#blooming panic zine

[will-come-a-poet]

Hello you wonderful people! 

Recently, I had the absolute honor of writing (and acting as a moderator) for the Blooming Panic Blooming All Year Round zine! The Blooming Panic community has honestly become such a comforting place for me. So, working alongside such talented individuals to create something that represents just a portion of the fabase's love and creativity marvelous! 

Anyway, this is a link to preorder a physical copy of the zine but there is also a digital version available for free. It’d mean the world to me if you could show your support by grabbing a copy (and while you’re there why not check out my fic on pages 8-11 ;) ). Shout out to Leah for being the most amazing organizer, my fellow moderator Des for being wonderful, and every talented individual who poured their love and effort into this piece. Oh, and shout out to robobarbie and every other beautiful person involved in the creation of Blooming Panic.

[shwaim]

I had the chance to participate in the "Blooming all year Around" zine, so now I’m sharing it here on tumblr!

You can get your pay-what-you-like digital version, or preorder for physical copies here

[zillachii]

Coming soon!

Preorders for Blooming Panic All Year Round a fan zine for blooming panic

Its been fun working on this with everyone and I cant wait to show my full piece but for now here is a promo! ✨👀

Look for @/Lycheetlc on Twitter for

[omegalomania]

i kept forgetting to do this, but i finally remembered we got permission to upload the full pieces done for the SEASONS ZINE! they're not quite as good without @deathchic's gorgeous prose accompanying them, but they were really exciting to put together.

full breakdowns of the symbolism and unobstructed views of each card can be found beneath the cut, fully transcribed. as a warning, they are LONG.

my category was "fall," which encompassed the folie and save rock and roll eras, including the welcome to the new administration mixtape and pax am days ep. seeing as i've a great deal of love for all four of those works and fall out boy has four members, i decided to highlight each work by creating a tarot-inspired card, each featuring a member of the band.

Welcome to the New Administration: Pete Wentz

Pete was the primary organizer behind the viral campaign for CitizensFOB, making him the ideal pick for this card. His card prominently features his bass guitar with the iconic Clandestine logo.

Repeating Number 4: 4 stars above the eagle's head, 4 markings across the cube at the center, 4 members of the band

The tri-colored drapes behind Pete were suspended behind the band on the mixtape cover. The curtains parting over a black background signifies the oncoming hiatus.

The cube-like geometric shape in front of the eagle represents the single promotional art done for "America's Suitehearts," which was one of the tracks demoed in the mixtape and one of the singles that connected most prominently with the themes of the mixtape.

The shield Pete carries and the eagle mounted behind him are both symbols that were used to promote the CitizensFOB viral campaign, featuring the catchphrase: "For Our Betterment, There Is More Mayhem."

Pete's apparel is what he was wearing for the Believers Never Die Part Deux tour, in which there was a lot of direct satirization of Wall Street and American politics. All the band members were wearing suits and looking visibly battered, and Pete had a nosebleed. Patrick also has a nosebleed on his own card; both Pete and Patrick's cards are pre-hiatus projects.

The symbols at the four corners of the card are indicative of the imagery surrounding the campaign. The pointing hand comes from the cover for the mixtape; the airplane is a reference to the "Mailbaick Vaintey and Pidetaerson Firm" videos and accounts that were used in the viral campaign; the wolf head is for the "Alpha Dog" demo, which made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape and namedropped "Welcome to the New Administration" title in its demo form; the boomerang is for the "Lake Effect Kid" demo, which also made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape.

"The Citizen" is an obvious reference to the "Citizens For Our Betterment" campaign name.

The card features 12 colors, all colorpicked from the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape cover. This represents the 12 artists who contributed the mixtape musically (not merely speaking roles): The Academy Is..., Butch Watcher, The Cab, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Four Year Strong, Gym Class Heroes, Hey Monday, The Hush Sound, Panic! At The Disco, A Rocket to the Moon, and Tyga.

The background elements are indicative of the state of the band prior to the hiatus: the leaves are in tatters and shreds. The sunflower is a native Chicago variant, Helianthus occidentalis, late-blooming sunflower that lasts well into early fall. Sunflowers obviously have a strong association with the sun, but they also stand for adoration, loyalty, good fortune, vitality, longevity, and prosperity. The bright yellow color also associates them with intelligence, happiness, and friendship. Van Gogh had a famous Sunflower series, leading to the obvious connection to Infinity on High, the album preceding the Folie era. This made it a good pick for the pre-hiatus cards, since it was loyalty and friendship that led to the hiatus and ultimately to the band's longevity and vitality. Both Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape had more yellow tones than their post-hiatus counterparts as well, thus the pick of a yellow flower.

Folie à Deux: Patrick Stump

Patrick has stated that Folie à Deux is the most "him" out of Fall Out Boy's discography, making him ideal for this card.

Repeating Number 4: 4 electric bursts from the microphone, 4-sided symbol mounted on the microphone, 4 ruffles on Dr. Benzedrine's front

The card features 13 colors to represent the 13 tracks on the album itself (excluding bonus tracks). All colors were colorpicked directly from the album cover.

The anchor is a reference to the lyrics of "27," with a crown symbol on it in reference to "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet."

There are 9 stripes on the upper side of the background, as a reference to "West Coast Smoker" - the suicidal cats have 9 lives.

The microphone represents Patrick's role as vocalist. It is also a reference to "(Coffee's for Closers)," as the microphone stand is electrified.

Patrick's right half is modeled after his costume in the "America's Suitehearts" video, "Dr. Benzedrine." He has a nosebleed in reference to the lyrics of the song that is his namesake, "20 Dollar Nose Bleed." Both he and Pete represent pre-hiatus projects, and both have bleeding noses.

Patrick's left half is modeled after his costume in the "What A Catch, Donnie" video. He has 20 stripes on his shirt - half black and half white, keeping with themes of duality. The 20 total stripes also references "20 Dollar Nose Bleed."

The background on the bottom half is shattered into 15 visible fragments, indicating the 15 tracks of the full album (when including bonus tracks such as "Pavlove" and "Lullabye"). There are also 27 fragments scattered between the two halves of Patrick, representing "27" and the 27 club.

The symbols at the four corners have dual meanings, in keeping with the theme of duality. The bee is both a lyrical reference to "Lullabye" and a nod to the intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes"; the storm cloud is both a nod to the lyrics of "She's My Winona" and a reference to the "Mr. Sandman" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the horseshoe crab is both a reference to the lyrics on "The (Shipped) Gold Standard" and to the character of "H. Shoe Crab" in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the sunflower acknowledges the lyrics in "27" about shooting the sunshine into one's veins and nods to the flower on the hat of the "Donnie the Catcher" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video.

"The Mirror" references the theming of duality on the album, as well as the fact that the vinyl required a mirror for one to read the tracklisting since the text was printed backwards.

The card features heavy themes of duality to suit the theme of a "madness shared by two." The image is bisected in several respects: Patrick is fractured in two, both halves wearing different costumes and expressions; the shadow in the center is split down the middle; the broken heart in the upper half is also two faces; the image is divided both horizontally and vertically; and a dichotomy of fire (the electrified microphone stand) and water (the anchor).

Save Rock and Roll: Joe Trohman

Joe took a much more active writing role post-hiatus and on this album in particular, making him a good pick to represent Save Rock and Roll.

Repeating Number 4: 4 symbols, 4-pointed symbol holding up the others

The card features 11 colors, representing 11 tracks on the album. All colors were color-picked directly from the album cover, with an emphasis on reds, to suit the "red palette" imagery surrounding the album.

This card is saturated with imagery from the 11-part video series the band released in conjunction with the album, "The Youngblood Chronicles." Joe is wearing the costume he had for the majority of the video series prior to his death.

The card features heavy fire imagery due to this being a motif on the album and on the associated video series, with smoke rising up in the background. This is indicative of the band "rising from the ashes" post-hiatus, and also symbolizes the resurrection of Joe's character at the end of "The Youngblood Chronicles."

The guitar-axe weapon is from the "Death Valley" video and would have been his weapon if he weren't dead at this point in time. The card prominently features Joe's guitar, albeit turned into a weapon, as befitting the theming.

The four symbols mounted behind Joe are also from "The Youngblood Chronicles" - the symbol representing the "Silence the Noise" group; the symbol associated with the gang of child bikers; the symbol the Prince of Darkness tattoos on Joe's hand; and the crown-and-volcano symbol associated with the band post-hiatus. The symbol upon which these four icons are mounted is found on the floor in Heaven in the "Save Rock and Roll" video.

Joe is the only one who does not face the audience directly, and is turned in profile. Given the fictional nature of the narrative of "The Youngblood Chronicles," he has the most distance from the fourth wall.

The symbols at the four corners of the card also draw from imagery from "The Youngblood Chronicles." The disco ball is from the "Where Did the Party Go" video, in which Joe's character dies. The briefcase is a consistent object throughout the entire series, and serves to incite the entire narrative. Patrick's hook hand, also seen throughout, is significant due to Patrick's unwitting role as Joe's murderer. The snake, seen in "Young Volcanoes" and "Just One Yesterday," is representative of the group's collective trauma.

"The Defender" is a reference to the names of the characters of Fall Out Boy in "The Youngblood Chronicles," as they are referred to as "The Defenders of the Faith" in the longform video's opening credits. This title is in and of itself a reference to the title track on Save Rock and Roll.

Pax Am Days: Andy Hurley

The Pax Am Days EP is closest to the band's hardcore roots in terms of sonics and composition, and Andy is the most active in hardcore circles today, which makes him an ideal pick for this card.

Repeating 4: 4 holes in the American flag, 4 supports visible on the toms and bass drum, 4 tears on the left side of the wall

The card features 9 colors, all color-picked from the EP cover, per the 9 tracks on the EP (counting the bonus "New Dreams" Naked Rayguns cover).

There are also 9 tears on the right side of the wall, also befitting the 9 tracks on the EP.

The black-and-white checkered background represents the Pax Am studio where the EP was recorded and after which it was named.

Andy is the only one whose card features him looking directly at the audience, to signify the more intimate recording sessions behind the EP, in which studio chatter and laughter can be heard between every track. Being the drummer of the band, Andy's drumkit is naturally featured very prominently.

The crown-volcano symbol that's become synonymous with the band post-hiatus is (barely) visible mounted on Andy's bass drum. This is a similarity Andy's card shares with Joe's, as they both represent post-hiatus projects.

The American flag was also present in the studio for recording. The flag being torn and shredded on the card relates to tracks on the EP that discuss disillusionment with the American dream ("American Made"). It is also indicative of the eras preceding and following the Pax Am EP (Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape, and then American Beauty / American Psycho).

The four symbols at the corners of the card all represent lyrics present on the EP: the crown comes from "We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead)"; the lion comes from "Demigods"; the black widow comes from "Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside"; the skull comes from "Love, Sex, Death."

"The Believer" is a reference to the final compilation prior to the band's four-year hiatus, "Believers Never Die." With the band returning seemingly from the dead, it seems that believers truly never die. This is paired with Andy reportedly being the only member of the band who always believed they would get back together, even if none of the others did.

The background elements for the post-hiatus cards feature leaves with much more reddish tones. The color red has a great deal of symbolic meanings, including high energy, vitality, strength, and prosperity. Additionally, the fallen leaves are rich and whole, to contrast the shredded-looking leaves in the background for the pre-hiatus cards. After the hiatus, the band's overall health and mentality was much healthier.

The flower in the background is a Madame Julia Correvon clematis, a wine-red Chicago variant of clematis that blooms in the summer and fall. Clematis flowers are associated with mental acuity, wisdom, travel, aspiration, and mischief. Red clematis in particular is associated with passion, energy, good luck, prosperity, security, physical vitality, and courage. This, along with the red color scheme, made it a good flower to represent the cards for the post-hiatus projects.

[shhimagiraffe]

Fantasy High + Pokemon

I was inspired by @candaceaprillee and their art that they made for Hootgrowlithe zine! I had to go all in and make their teams, based off everything that's been released as of FHJY episode 3. There have been more episodes by this point but nothing that has happened since has influenced any changes!

Gang, I thought about this a lot...this is a lengthy post. This genius simply couldn't be contained. There are some that are based on vibes, and some that I dug a little deeper with Pokedex entries. Rest assured my explanations should suffice my reasoning! These Pokemon are not in any particular order btw!!

Adaine

Adaine's team is just Peak Blue/cool color Vibes. Was not intentional! I picked a lot of spherical shapes and mon that happen to exude calming energy/auras. I do think that, for now, Adaine keeps her Orb Pokemon from evolving because they're the perfect shape.

Spheal - Spheal is the perfect orb shaped Pokemon. I could not leave it out of the line up. Additionally, Spheals have soft fur and I think when Adaine's having a panic attack that soft fur would be good for grounding. As Spheal evolves it also learns to "identify" things with its sensitive nose, reminiscent of the Identify Spell.

Natu - Another phenomenal orb. While it's no owl, it will evolve into a psychic, fortune telling mon some day. It does have prophetic abilities in this version, but it seems to be more about hopping about and staring at things. Something about that feels right for Adaine.

Gardevoir - Admittedly, Gardevoir did not initially make my list for Adaine. I did get to thinking that since Adaine comes from an extremely rich family (albeit a neglectful one), her parents would want to give her a fancy mon to exert her status. I don't know if they'd give her a straight up Gardevoir as a kid, but in any case the whole line up is fairy/psychic; I thought since the Abernants are high elves that they would lean towards fairy type Pokemon to link back to their heritage. In any case! Gardevoir ALSO reads the future!

Dragonair - Dragonairs have that blue orb in them, plus they exude a "gentle aura," again another helpful thing for Adaine. They're also part of a pseudo legendary line, which is a great match for our legendary oracle. There's something very elegant about Dragonair, and it evolves into a cute lovey Dragonite!!!

Riolu - I originally gave Adaine a fully evolved Lucario, but given that Riolu evolves with high friendship, I don't know if Adaine would be emotionally ready for that. It still gets the same vibes across with being able to detect auras of others. I'm HC'ing that she got her Riolu as part of an official Welcome to the Family gift from Jawbone :') Riolu is basically an emotional support dog, after all.

Feebas - :) Gang :) I'm taking some liberties here. Wouldn't it be angsty and sad if we envision small Adaine, sad and alone, ignored and chastised by her family, off on her own and happens upon a sad little Feebas? And finds comradery in this lil fish that's considered the ugliest thing in the world? She brings home her very first mon she caught herself and her family tears her to shreds for it but she still loves this mon with a bad rap? I'm obsessed.

Fabian

Fabian's mon consist of a mix of fighting types, dancing vibes, and trauma based dex entries! That's really all I can say so summarize his team. I'm sorry to my boy but he's so fun to play in the angst space with.

Lombre - My HC is that Bill Seacaster gave Fabian his first Pokemon, maybe as a small Lotad. Lombre, in the anime, is one of Ash's mon that gave him a hard time, and I think that Fabian would have at least one mon that wouldn't completely respect him in the same way. Once Fabian sheds the expectations of his father, then Lombre accepts him and their relationship blooms! Bonus points! Lombre evolves into Ludicolo, a dancing Pokemon!

Cubone - This is my biggest brain idea. Cubone's whole thing is abandonment because of his mother dying. While Fabian's mother is not dead, she might as well be since she's off traveling with Gilear. Even before then! She was emotionally absent in his life. Sure the skull could be from his literal dead father THAT HE KILLED...there's just something about the mother/son relationship (or lack thereof) that's *chef's kiss*

Hitmontop - This Pokemon is purely fighter, but he's got sick dance moves and if this isn't the Pokemon version of Fabian I don't know what is.

Kirlia - Sigh. Okay. So. The dancing theme is obvious. Unfortunately, I think Fabian would be the kind of guy that would sexualize Kirlia's evolution, Gardevoir. I could only hope that he wouldn't fall in love with his mon but JY Fabian has me fucked up with his character development. I originally gave Fabian Kirlia before I gave Adaine her Gardevoir, so I think he'd probably go with Gallade for his evolution? I do think that this mon, whatever happens, would knock some sense into Fabian like Brock's mon do in the anime, hehe!

Bisharp - Bisharp reflects Fabian's initial work with swordfighting and fencing. Its description about leading groups of its unevolved form plus getting kicked out if it loses a battle to become boss.....gives me Fabian's Very Bad No Good Day on Leviathan vibes to me.

Absol - Absol's deal is that it is something of an unlucky charm -- but it can actually warn people of incoming dangers. I truly think Fabian needs a creature like that in his life. He probably wouldn't know how to interact with a mon such as this, but I believe in him.

Fig

Fig's team consists of fire types, music based designs, and illusion/trickery Pokemon. I'm realizing that I'm HC'ing that a lot of Fig's mon evolved with her around the time that she learned she's actually a tiefling. I borrowed that idea from Candace, particularly with Houndoom!

Jigglypuff - Jigglypuff is SUCH a match for Figueroth Faeth, I'm talking pre-campaign Fig. It's cute, it's bubbly, and is fully capable of being a menace. Fig would absolutely egg on her mon to do something like, I don't know, marking up their sleeping audience out of anger. Plus it's a singer so it could be a cute lil back up singer for Fig! Jiggly is also sweet and fitting for Fig because it evolves through high friendship. I know that Fig says she keeps her emotions wrapped up but miss thing would absoLUTELY have best friendships with her mon.

Loudred - Loudred feels right for Fig, especially if we assume that Fig started with Whismur, this shy timid lil pink first evolution that has a piercing scream. It's basically a big speaker as well (even though it would not be ideal for a concert with it being able to level houses...Fig would probably love that though) It is a pretty destructive Pokemon, but if it gets to evolve it'll mellow out some. I don't know Fig will ever truly mellow out, but who knows! Anything's possible!

Salazzle - Salazzle's deal is that she emits pheromones that attract males which I think goes well with Fig's penchant for flirting with random guys. Maybe Fig found her Salazzle while in Hell and wasn't an initial part of her team, as they are found in volcanoes and other craggy places. She's also generally cunt and Fig deserves a member like that on her team :)

Zoroark - I love Zoroark for Fig as it is an illusion based Pokemon that is extremely loyal to those that have good bonds with them (I'm being liberal with this, they're more loyal to other Zoroarks but I think Fig's would see her on the same level). It can transform itself and makes large crowds believe their illusion. It just matches Fig's vibes!!! Could I go into how its first evolution, Zorua, transforms itself to protect itself from danger and that parallel with Fig's transformations to protect her emotional state?? Sure, but y'all get the point.

Houndoom - Houndoom is a given for Fig. It's a demon fire dog. For our tiefling archdevil that occasionally shifts into German Shepherd mode? Yeah, nuff said.

Shelgon - Shelgon's line is based on being so determined and literally head strong to get what they want. There's the obvious trait we see here, which is that hard shell that Fig often comments on. Both creatures are reorganizing their cells to better reflect their true/ideal selves. Plus Shelgon turns into a dope dragon and I wouldn't put it past Fig to love that for herself and her Pokemon.

Gorgug

Gorgug's mon are a majority grass/bug based, which I think works with how he grew up with the Thistlesprings in the tree. I gave him two "new" members of his party to reflect his artificer second class. Pretty much all of them could work for both of his classes!

Timburr - Timburr's a cute lil guy that absolutely would start out with Gorgug training to be a barbarian and turn into a lil helper with Gorgug's artificer tinkering. Should Timburr be more evolved than its base form? Yes. Do I think the rest of the line is ugly? Also yes. Sorry about it.

Roselia - I needed to reference Gorgug's very sweet tin flower in some way!!! If taken care of, and we know our boy would absolutely would, it releases a calming scent. Maybe this scent helps calm down Gorgug before he enters a rag e outside of battle, or just to help him relieve anxiety at the end of the day.

Rillaboom - Gorgug 100% would have first gotten its first evolution, Grookey, as his first mon. It'd fit in perfectly with the tree, plus it's whole line is about drumming and rhythm!!! What more can you ask of a mon?

Heracross - I think Heracross is Cute. And strong to boot! For a long time, it's the only one that can keep up with Gorgug as far as strength goes. It's described as docile unless it's disturbed while eating honey; a great match for our sweet barbarian!

Rookidee - I'll be so honest, this choice was based off Cloaca Chloe. I originally gave him Beldum, which is literally a hunk of steel. But I thought about it some more, especially with Chloe being a metal bird, and how could I *not* pick a Pokemon that eventually turns into this giant badass steel/flying type Corviknight? Plus, this mon is bold and always up to the challenge of fighting. What better for a creation that goes "I SUCK" all the time unprovoked?

Tinkatuff - I think that Gorgug found this mon while in the Nightmare Forest, or perhaps right outside of it scared and alone. She's figuring out tinkering along with Gorgug and I know this giant/tiny duo would kick so much ass. Will Tinkatuff end up wanting to fight Rookidee all the time? ...Maybe, but I'm sure Gorgug will find some kind of solution for that to be chill with each other.

Kristen

I had the hardest time with Kristen, because I can't really pin down her personality and ideals in Pokemon. I think it's because she doesn't know who she is currently. I love Kristen, but most of these mon are a read on her.

Bellossom - Bellossom is one of the handful of Pokemon out there that has the healer ability! It could certainly be the final evolution of a mon Kristen could have had as a cleric of Helio, Oddish. Also, picturing Kristen and Bellossom doing ribbon dances together? That'd be cute as hell.

Cosmog - Cosmog is veeeeery Cassandra to me. It's a borderline legendary Pokemon. It is characterized as taking an immediate liking to anyone who gives it the time of day. Something about the frailty of this mon reminds me of Kristen's current god. And if any of The Bad Kids were going to have a legendary mon, it'd be Kristen. Given episode 4, we might be looking at an evolution soon...

Psyduck - Psyduck is constantly plagued with headaches that makes it constantly confused! While Kristen doesn't get the headaches she doesn't necessarily quite know what's going on and why she does certain things. It looks like this season she's on the ball with battles though so we'll see! I'm also thinking of Misty's Psyduck and how she treated hers...while I don't think Kristen would get pissed off with her Psyduck, I think she wouldn't see its value in her party all the time.

Eevee - The beauty with Eevee is that it simply could be anything depending on its environment. I think, if anything, this mon most reflects her current religion with Cassandra in that nothing is set in stone and that's okay.

Bidoof - Kristen picked Bidoof for the meme. I just know she would have at least one joke Pokemon. And yet...I don't know, Bidoof just works with Kristen for reasons I can't explain.

Quaquaval - This is the gayest Pokemon I've EVER seen. Imagine seeing this guy ribbon dancing with Kristen? SICKENING!!!! On a more serious note, it does take things more seriously especially while training. Kristen needs someone to whip her into shape, take things more serious.

Riz

Riz is obviously our crime solving lil goblin kid. Of course, he's going to initially pick mons that could help with a case. But he's also got SUCH a big heart and would wholeheartedly love all of his mon for who they are outside of being helpful. I also just had to go in and do my best to make sure that Riz has a balanced team -- I refuse to think of him as someone that wouldn't have an answer to counter a weak point for any of his Pokemon.

Zigzagoon - I've HC'd that Zigzagoon as Riz's first ever Pokemon! Found him in the grass while he was snooping around for something, and Zigzagoon are naturally curious and restless creatures, so they became quick best friends. I think they're always side by side working on a case!

Spoink - Ok hear me out...I was thinking about how the Night Yorb happened because of Riz trying to figure out Garthy, essentially creating the Night Yorb for the universe with that bit. So I fell on Spoink with it's orb on it's head. But then I got to thinking...Spoink can never stop bouncing because it will die if it does. And if THAT is not Riz Gukgak I don't know what is. Boy doesn't know how to relax; his literal worst fear is resting.

Rotom - Honestly I think Rotom would be super useful for Riz! I'm thinking with the arcade in Freshman Year, if Riz had a Rotom that encounter would have been a bit easier! It is a little bit mischievous, and while that's not really Riz's steez, I think he'd find it endearing to a degree.

Klefki - I think that Riz would love to collect things like keys he thinks are relevant to a case. The great thing about Klefki is that it will hang on to keys that it likes and I think Riz relates to wanting to hold on to things he obsesses over! I know that Riz trusts Klefki with his keys, in general. It apparently jingles itself at attackers, and the mental image of a ring of keys jingling while Riz hisses in Goblin Mode™ is so funny to me.

Greninja - Greninjas give me rogue energy. By this time in its evolution it's a pro at devising battle strategy and is a sharpshooter like its trainer. Plus you KNOW Riz would have Battle Bond with Greninja, they'd be a great fighting pair!

Golbat - Originally I picked a bat Pokemon to relate back to Riz's goblin race; goblins live in dungeons, bats live in dungeons, fantastic! Plus the teeth and open mouth? Riz and Golbat going toe to toe in hissing games. Ok let's get serious, cutthroat. I feel as if Riz would find kinship with its unevolved form, Zubat, because of how they are perceived as small annoying things (I personally was always annoyed encountering zubats in the games, idk if this is a widespread belief). Bonus: Golbats evolve with high friendship into Crobat! I don't know why I didn't give Riz a Crobat, just didn't feel right I guess.

And that's the end! Hope you enjoyed this deep dive into Pokemon, Fantasy High, and dare I say character analysis??? I don't know, that might be a little generous to my word vomit. Get in the comments!! I'd love to hear other takes and see more discussion!!

Anyways uhhhh stream Fantasy High Junior Year on Dropout and play/watch some Pokemon k bye

[rambling-panic]

The most unrealistic part of Blooming Panic isn’t the fact that BloomBot is sentient or any of the ai stuff.

Its the fact that in xyx’s route a whole ass Zine gets finished in like 6 days lmao

Aint no way everyone had enough free time to write a short story or create a piece in that short amount of time IM SORRY

It is kinda funny tho, oh the things fans will do (i say as if ive never done a zine before)

[heavensickness]

HE DOESN'T WANNA DO IT!!!

[kiiviews]

Blooming Panic is a dating sim/VN set in the discord for a fictional webnovel and I LOVED IT

I just think it absolutely nailed the discord-flavour writing. Most of the game is chats in server, and fights and emotes and flailing, with multiple channels and chill background music and it's great? it really works?? I feel like it's unfair I did not make real friends playing this game, I spent all this time chatting with them??? it also has a 'pause' button even though obviously the game won't progress until you input your option and it's such a great button, real discord stresses me out with the onslaught of messages but in the game if you want more time to catchup and read while 'people' are 'typing' you can cause it's so good they've made a great engine

it is definitely an otome game! I changed up my pronouns between runs because y'know sometimes you're vibing different ways, but if you go for a he/him then you are roleplaying a very soft boi indeed. The MC types how I type (so validated to get 'Ye!!' as a dialogue option) but is not how I would project for a male char lmao. these dudes are also all head-over-heels in about 7 days which is a lil quick for me but Otherwise cannot complain

I also found all the bad ends dark in a very realistic way - if you have ever seen anyone spiral online, it feels very real in a way that's both super well-written and also very sad - I found them very memorable and fleshed out for the characters (it's also still funny to me that after getting the good ending you always go back and start gaslighting these nice men who are so welcoming to you by suddenly being rude, mean and disinterested, to get the other route lmao)

anyway it took me about 6 hours to 100% it, but there's so much work and love in this game (lots of text of the fake novel! fanart! a whole zine gets built! there's voice acting and nice pics and a CONVENIENT GALLERY for ALL the pics I'm howling honestly)

super loved it super recommend

[ducklettwrites]

DST Zine Tryout Fic: “Caught in the Rain”

Now Available on Ao3

Fandom: Don’t Starve (Together) Characters: Wormwood, WX-78 Pairing: Wormwood & WX-78 (meant as platonic but can be read as romantic I guess) Description: Wormwood is a good friend. Author’s Notes: My tryout piece for the next Constantly Obsessed Don’t Starve Zine. I’ve been wanting to write something sweet between Wormwood and WX-78 for a while. My headcanon going into this is that System Overload must be pretty overwhelming, and can lead to some not so great effects if the sanity gets too low because of it.   Minor trigger warning: there is depiction of a panic attack and minor self harm. Don’t worry, it all turns out okay.

Springtime was the closest Wormwood got to being on his lonesome again. He sighed. The ceaseless rain pelting against his tent. The small makeshift camp was illuminated slightly under the glow of a lantern. He wasn't sure if being in his tent meant the darkness monster couldn't get him, but he wasn't willing to take that chance either. At least this isolation was voluntary he supposed.

He knew how he got during the Spring. His bloom cycle didn't make him the best company. The buzz bugs became attracted to him and weren't exactly friendly to the friends he had back at the camp. A minor, though painful, nuisance to most, including Wormwood. They were a bit more fatal to the newest friend he had made this past Winter season; and he wasn't keen on being the reason for any of his friend's death. So he settled a deal with them to tend the farm further away from camp. They'd come every few days to pick up the fruits of his plant friends and bring him supplies. He'd be able to come back around Summer, when he'd be needed to keep the plants friends at camp from succumbing to the heat. He hoped book friend would be able to take care of them until then.

A crack of lightning shook the tent and Wormwood blinked into the starless sky. Rain batted against the budding flower at the tip of his stalk. He wouldn't be gone from his friends forever, just for a while. Still, it didn't mean he didn't miss them, quite a bit actually. For this reason, when he started to hear the somewhat familiar sound of metal clanking against metal, he thought it was just in his mind. When his head began to hurt, he could have a whole lot of things just happening in his mind. But his head didn't hurt; he felt fine. So, why did he still hear it?

He stepped from the tent, grasping the lantern tightly with his leaf hands. "Hello? Who there?" He called into the dark.

The sound of rain and the continued clanking of metal was his only response.

Wormwood moved closer to the sound. From between the shadows of the rain and dark was a glow. A halo of light accompanied by two glowing eyes peered directly at him. He blinked, confused. "Robot...friend?" He questioned why, of all his friends, would the robot come to him, this late, and in the middle of a storm.

But he was correct in his recognition. WX-78 caught Wormwood's gaze and returned the look with the same wide blank eyes they usually had. Except, something about them seemed... off. They glowed from head to toe and extra special light came from their eyes. There was a noticeable hum to them now that Wormwood stood closer to them. Though their face betrayed no emotion, every fiber of his being screamed that something was wrong with his friend.

At first he moved to hug them, embrace them and make it all better. But then he remembered that robot friend had explicitly told him that they hated hugs. He stopped before touching their casing. There was a sensation of electric energy pulsing off of them. A moment of silence passed between them, where he was frozen, too scared to make a move.

Then a shudder of electric energy worked its way up the robot. Wormwood jumped back with a start. A pained screech indicated that it was anything but painless. WX-78 was shaking now, gripping their head and shuttering their eyes.

"Let's get friend back to dry." Wormwood was careful not to touch the robot, instead using his arm to try and lead them back toward his camp.

They reluctantly followed. The trek back wasn't long, just wet. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and WX flinched at the noise.

"Not far now..." Wormwood said sympathetically "almost there, friend."

WX nodded with a creak.

The camp was in sight. Wormwood led the trembling robot to his tent. They eased their way down, sitting in front of the entrance. He set the lantern in front of them outside and moved to rummage through a nearby chest. For once he was happy that choppy friend and his friend killer had stopped by. He pulled the hunks of dead trees from the chest and tossed them onto the firepit. The resulting blaze made Wormwood jump a little. He returned to the chest to pull out an orange vest before walking back to the tent.

With the fire going, WX was settling at the entrance of the tent. They stretched out, sparks flying from their joints where water had seeped in. Wormwood settled next to them and handed over the vest. He watched as the robot donned the outfit silently. By far it was their silence which worried Wormwood the most. He had known WX long enough to know that they should’ve been complaining by now. They had always been outspoken.

"What happened to robot friend?" He wasn't used to having to make the first words in their conversations.

They hadn't stopped shaking completely. Their fists clenched and unclenched as they had to force the words to come out. It looked like quite the struggle. "LIGHT...ING." was all they could manage.

Wormwood nodded, trying to force down his own feeling of unease for the sake of a friend. He did remember that there was something about lightning that robot friend talked about; and he assumed that must've been what they were trying to tell him now. "Do you hurt?"

Another struggle, this time they could barely manage more than a few sputters and creaks. Their expression darkened. Metal fingers clawed at the side of their temples and Wormwood could now see noticeable scratches begin to form in their casing.

It was a quick reaction. He reached out and grabbed their hands away from their head. A jolt of electricity stung him but he maintained his hold. He could feel their shaking continue beneath his grasp. He looked them in the eyes and they returned the gaze. "Does head hurt?" He tried to sound firm, hoping they didn't notice how scared for them he really was.

They didn't even try to speak this time, just nodded and dropped their gaze to the ground.

Wormwood squeezed their hands gently to get them to look at him again. "It okay, friend." He said softly. He wished he hadn't used that green mushroom in the crockpot today, but at least he had one other way to fix his friend's low sanity. "Sleep." He gave the order gently, but was clearly not to be disobeyed.

WX didn't seem to be in the mood for arguing as they obediently lay down next to the plant. He settled himself in. Sitting up to watch guard until his friend woke in the morning.

"SHOULD...T...NEED...HELP…" The voice was barely above a whisper, an unusually low volume for the robot.

Wormwood patted their back gently. "Is okay, friend. Don't need to be ashamed for needing help. Everyone need help sometime."

There was a creak as they nodded, then the sound of a buzzing snore as they drifted to sleep.

[zillachii]

ITS TIME!! Fanzine blooming all year round is out for preorder and digital copies!! (link below)

Its been so much fun working on this project with people and im so excited to show my final piece!

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing (Aug 29 - Sept 11, 2021)

That’s right folks!  Because of the long weekend last weekend, you all get a two-for-one this round-up!  Lots of excellent stuff from the fandom the last two weeks, so take a look and show your fellow fans some love!

--Mod LAM

Fanfiction

Dirty Computer (CH 11/?) by @doctormegalomania​ 

Pairings: Heero x Duo, Wufei x OFC

Characters: 5 pilots

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: minor violence, espionage, unreliable narrator, post-war, reference to past injury, implied/referenced self-harm

Summary:  Years after the war, nothing is what anyone hoped for. Peace reigns supreme.

Man Lion Thing Dude (CH 14-16/?) by @anaranesindanarie​

Pairings: Trowa x Duo, Triton Bloom x Duo

Characters: full cast, original Trowa Barton, OCs

Rating: EXPLICIT

Tags / Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, whump, blood, alternate universe, supernatural, were-creatures, family problems, arranged marriage, mentions of torture, smut, magic

Summary:  Duo Maxwell is estranged from the last of his remaining family who are demanding that he return home for an important announcement. Meanwhile, Duo has been having strange encounters with 'wild' animals, all of whom seem to be hunting him.

The Life of the Immortal Jellyfish (CH 15-16/35) by @lemontrash​

Pairings: Duo x Wufei

Characters: 5 pilots + Relena, Hilde, Noin, Une

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: post-canon, post-Endless Waltz, UST, roommates, Preventers, slow burn, insomnia, friendship

Summary: Is it chance that lands Duo and Wufei in the same university dorm room? They’re not stupid enough to believe that but too tired to fight it. Duo’s dragged himself back from the brink of going too far and remains teetering on the edge while Wufei’s doggedly trying to prove himself to the ‘good guys’ in the aftermath of the Eve Wars. Sleep and normalcy eludes them both. As they become increasingly aware how damaged they are, they start to edge towards friendship, or something more, but all too soon the peace seems jeopardised by a new and manipulative threat.

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @bryony-rebb​ 

Pairings: Wufei x Sally

Characters: Wufei and Sally

Rating: PG

Tags / Warnings: flashbacks, future fic, tropical diseases, best partners evar

Summary:  “I’d come for you”, he said. “No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.”

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @boxofhatebrains​

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: PG

Tags / Warnings:  music, friendships, concerts, foul language, complicated relationships with faith, cherry-picking manga

Summary: “You free Saturday night?”

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @heartensoul​

Pairings: Duo x Relena, Heero x Trowa

Characters: Heero, Duo, Trowa, Relena

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: REO Speedwagon, future fic, receptions, reunions, getting together, smoking, shotgun kisses, first kisses, cherry-picking manga, FT what FT, look at my life look at my choices

Summary:  The reception, at least, was a welcome reprieve from most of the events that she’d been forced to attend in the last half-dozen years.

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @noirangetrois​

Pairings: Duo x Relena

Characters: Duo and Relena

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: stargazing, criminal trespass, future fic, FT what FT, discussion of panic attacks and mentioned ptsd

Summary:  “Well, guess we’re here until the solar storm clears,” Relena sighed...

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @seitou

Pairings: Heero x Trowa

Characters: Heero, Trowa, Relena

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings:  1+R friendship, dates, home cooking, future fic, beers, fade-to-black sex, sweet dumb men in love, everyone ships it

Summary:  “I have good MREs that I was saving for a special occasion.”

Katahimikan by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: post-Blind Target, Pre-Endless Waltz, non-confessions, pre-relationship

Summary:  “I’m just taking a little rest,” Quatre smiles. He lets himself get slightly more comfortable, loosening his posture.

Orgel by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings:  alternate universe, fantasy elements, established relationship, injured character

Summary:  Duo comes home late with a gift.

Fanart

Doodle Prompts (1x3x5) by @seitou

Heero x Relena (elf AU) by @lokineko 

OZ Military Ball (13x11) by @keiko1183

Zechs and Duo Hairbraiding by @keiko1183

Several by @gundayum

Wedding Bells (3x4)

Snuggles (1x2) 

Trowa’s a Pathetic Clown

Duo as the Little Mermaid 

King of the Hill (Heero, Relena and Bobby/Mariemaia, and Trowa)

Kinbaku WIP (3x5) by @2pcbart

Relena as John Cena by @farshootingstar

Quatre learning to knit by @farshootingstar

On the Wing by @theboringbluecrayon

Snuggles (3x4) by @circusoftrash

GW Crack by @circusoftrash

Heero EW Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art

Relena FT Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art

GW Kiddo Doodles by @lemontrash

Jellyfish Fic Art (2x5) by @sparkchemy for @lemontrash

Summer (1xR) by @alphaikaros

Zechs and Relena by @alphaikaros

Belated MerMay Relena by @serenestorm

Sexy Trowas (Part I, Part II, Part III) by @serenestorm 

Summer Duo by @owlinpajamas

Relena and Heero by @darksharinganz

Other Fanwork

Gunpla and Cosplay

Duo Maxwell Cosplay (Part I and Part II) by @itsjesskage​

HGAC Wing Zero by @macks-mechas​

Headcanons and Discussion

The Accidental (?) Seduction of Trowa Barton (3x4) by @a-river-of-stars

GoL Thoughts with @kittykatz​

Dorothy and Treize, Cathy and Trowa

Treize and Zechs

Treize, Dorothy, Heero, and Epyon

Lieutenant Trant Clark

Other Fun Stuff

GW Sims 4 Portraits by @eslanes​

Power Stances, with Zechs and Treize by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Quick: look pensive with gloves by @the-reanimated-bhg​​

@incorrectgundamwingquotes​ still making us laugh (example)

Memes and Macros

This is my boyfriend’s boyfriend (Rx1x2 and Hx1x2) by @portrayalmuse​

Dad Jokes Zechs (Part I and Part II) by @bonmotfic

Heero’s Romance Novel by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Coffee Puns with Cathy by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Requesting Leave with HR by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Zechs, the master of pick-up lines by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Spaghetti Westerns by @the-reanimated-bhg

Calendar Events

@gwcocktailfriday​ is back with this week’s prompt!  Be sure to post your responses on Friday (September 17) between 3-5PM EST!

@gundamzine has opened up the mailing list, so be sure to register to get your FREE PDF on October 1!  In the mean time, be sure to follow the account so that you can learn about the stellar 2021 Zine Crew members. Also consider donating to the team’s chosen charity, World Literacy Foundation (donations are optional, but encouraged).  In the meantime, check out some of the previews, with more to follow.

September is National Prostate Awareness Month and @expewrites​ and @boxofhatebrains​ are hosting a GW Prostate Health Event at @prostatehealth-gundamwing​ beginning September 1.  More info is available on the Event AO3 Page but in brief, options are to (1) create something or (2) donate to your prostate health organization of choice.

Sign-ups are officially open for the 2021 Holiday Gift Exchange with @thisweekingundamevents​!  Sign-ups close September 30, and participants will get their assignments in October, followed by the creation period November-December and finally posting in early January 2022.

@/ficwip (Twitter) is hosting a “Rise of the Dead Fandoms” event. Contributor sign-ups end on September 30, so be sure to register soon! Creation period runs September-October; posting will be in November. More info at their FAQ.

The @weedgrandpacookbook is an homage to the fanon of Mike Howard as the Gundam Wing’s chillest Weed Grandpa. Check out the Zine Calendar and  FAQ for more info and be sure to complete the interest check before September 30.

Spooky prompt idea generation for the GW Hallows Event will kick off mid-September, and posting period will happen in October.  Stay tuned to @thisweekingundamevents!

Keep an eye on @gwoc-october​​ while you’re at it for news on the GW Original Character (OC) October Event.  You can expect a prompt calendar to go live in September with posting in October…but you can also just use the month to showcase works with your original GW characters!

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

The Infamous Jethro Tull Incident

PART THIRTY-THREE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of anxiety/panic attacks please read with caution, plentiful pop culture references, allergies

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Visiting Stars Hollow once again, Ella and Jess help Luke with his custody battle and see the Spring Fling.

A/N: The descriptions of panic attacks in this chapter and in this fic are based on research and my own experiences. Everyone is different. If you need to talk, I am always here. I just felt Gilmore Girls always kind of ignored Jess’s trauma, and the after-effects it would have had on him. 

Though Chris and Matthew had invited them out, neither Jess nor Ella had any desire to eat at some fancy restaurant on a Sunday night. It was under the guise of a celebration over the monthly Zine including an interview with someone who had once interned for Dave Eggers. Not that it was a small feat, but both Ella and Jess knew it was simply just an excuse for Chris and Matthew to go on an expensive double date. Often, the two called them frugal. And they called the two of them unnecessarily hedonistic. Whatever the case, Ella was glad to have the apartment for the night. Two days into spring break, and she was still only just bouncing back from the mid-semester exhaustion.

She sat cross-legged in her pajamas on the couch, sketching, as the water on the stove began to boil. Once again, she was attempting dinner. Spaghetti, something simple, she’d told Jess earlier in the evening. She could totally manage it. She still couldn’t understand why her baking skills were never able to travel over into cooking territory. Just as she finished the lines around the eyes, the phone on the counter began ringing. Putting her sketchbook to the side, she rushed up to the counter and saw it was Jess’s cellphone alight with a number.

“Jess Mariano’s phone,” she said as she opened the phone, hoping to answer in time.

“Ella?” the voice came through the receiver.

“Luke?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

A smile came to her lips. “Hey, boss! How are you?”

Luke cleared his throat, hesitating a minute. “Oh, well I…”

“Jess is in the shower, but I can get him if you really need to talk,” she cut in, growing worried. Not only because she noticed the water on the stove was boiling over and hissing on the oven. She dashed over to the stove.

“No, that’s okay. I have no desire to speak to him while he’s any degree of naked,” Luke said gruffly.

Ella uttered a chuckle and she stirred the pot to lessen the overflow. “Well, that makes one of us.”

Only a heavy sigh came from the other side of the phone.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said. As she broke the spaghetti in half, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder, several noodles flew across the kitchen. A few landed on the burner and started to smoke instantly. “Fuck!”

“What?” Luke asked, suddenly alarmed.

Growling under her breath in frustration, she sweeped the noodles from the burner with a damp kitchen towel. “Nothing, sorry. The spaghetti caught on fire but it’s fine now.”

“Why are you trying to make spaghetti? You can hardly make toast,” Luke groaned knowingly.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m broadening my horizons, alright? But that doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

“Well, uh...you know April?”

“The name rings a bell, yes.”

“Well, Anna wants to move her to New Mexico,” Luke said, voice emotionless. “And I’m trying to get joint custody. The lawyer uh...he said Jess, or you, might be a good character reference. The trial, or whatever we should call it, is on Tuesday. If you can’t get here, that’s fine. They’re speeding up the process because they’re moving away so soon. You could just put it in writing, but I don’t know if it would get here in the mail. So, if you can’t, I completely-”

“Luke,” she interjected.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be there,” Ella said with finality. “What time is the hearing?”

“Eight,” he answered.

Nodding, she stirred the spaghetti. Furrowing her brows, she considered the time. “Could we maybe stay over tomorrow night? Then, we can all go to the courthouse.”

“Really? Is Jess okay with that?” he asked.

“Jess won’t hear of anything else, I promise. The Zine just came out. The other guys will understand. We’ll call it a family emergency. And I’m on my spring break. It’s fine, boss,” Ella reassured him, face flushed over the steaming pot.

“Are you sure? I mean, only if you’re sure-”

She sighed again, a long exhale through her nose. “Luke, I’m sure. Just hang in there. We’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll bring you some of this spaghetti, if you want.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he said flatly.

“Noted.”

There was a long pause. “Ella?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

A sad smile ghosted over her face. “Don’t mention it.”

“Hey, it’s the Spring Fling, too. In case you guys need something to do tomorrow night,” Luke added, shifting the conversation away from emotions.

A pang of nostalgia hit her, and she could smell the greasy food. “Oh, well, I was on the fence about coming up there before. But the Spring Fling? There’s the thing to seal the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grumbled, unamused by her sarcasm.

“Alright. Well, I gotta focus on this spaghetti, for the sake of public safety. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah. Okay, Ella. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Luke.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, Ella flipped it closed and set it back on the counter. Waiting for the spaghetti to finish boiling, she tried to hum but couldn’t bring herself to. A knot sat in her stomach. She knew how much Luke loved April; she had seen it even through the few months she’d witnessed them together. And she knew how much April loved Luke. She wondered over how the girl would feel, if she were not allowed to see Luke ever again. Not exactly like her own mother’s death, but Ella could certainly sympathize.

She was too deep in thought to hear Jess emerge from the bathroom, hair damp and still dripping slightly.

“Is something burning?” he asked, coming up next to her.

She jumped slightly and then huffed out a breath when he smirked at her surprise. “For just a second, it was. But, now, everything is under control.”

“Whatever you say, Stevens,” he teased, brown eyes twinkling.

Pursing her lips, she finally took her eyes away from the water. “We have to go to Stars Hollow tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” he asked, his brow crinkling.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Luke is trying to get joint custody of April. The hearing is on Tuesday morning and he wants us to testify as references.”

“Huh,” Jess deadpanned, nodding slightly.

“If we get there tomorrow, we can make sure he doesn’t completely melt down during the dinner shift and then ride with him to the courthouse. Is that alright with you? If you can’t come, I could just-”

“Woah, Stevens. I’ll go. Obviously, I’ll go. Not like Matthew can’t babysit Chris all on his own for a couple days. He’s been doing it pretty much his whole life,” Jess said, pressing a kiss of reassurance to her cheek.

“Good. Just...making sure.” She bit at her thumbnail for a moment, nodding. “What if...what if he loses her?”

“I don’t know,” Jess said, shaking his head. “But, at least we can try to help. Here’s hoping it’s not too A Few Good Men.”

“There’s the bright side, Mr. Sunshine,” she said, smiling weakly.

Jess smirked a tiny smirk, then grabbed the wooden spoon as the pot began boiling over, spaghetti spilling onto the glass top, once again.

.   .   .

Misty March air seeped in through the cracked Station Wagon windows, the afternoon sun warming up the early spring day. Pollen and dust were stagnant in the air, flowers beginning to bloom in the Connecticut countryside. Television, “Marquee Moon,” played on the radio, Jess’s arm draped over Ella’s headrest. Hydrangeas were blooming, blue and purple and pink, on the sides of the road as they crossed over the edge of town into Stars Hollow.

As soon as they passed over the border, Ella’s eyes began to itch, and she started sneezing into the crook of her elbow.

“Jeez, Stevens. Bless you,” Jess said, eyebrows raised. “Are you getting a cold?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, sniffling and blinking the irritated shine from her eyes. “Maybe it’ll make me more sympathetic to the judge.”

“There’s one way to win a case,” he chuckled.

“Hey, who am I to look down on a shortcut?” she said, shrugging lightly as she took the turn down Main Street.

As they reached town center, their eyes widened. Parking was one of the chief worries to pop into Ella’s mind, but not the only one. Hay was stacked up every which way, forming a maze. Stray straws littered the empty spaces, bales piled ten feet high and taking up space on every single street. Hitting the brakes, Ella came to a stop on the edge of the strip, next to the bookstore.

“What the hell is this?” Jess asked, flabbergasted.

Shaking her head, Ella was at a loss for words. Then, it dawned on her, and she groaned in frustration. “I forgot to tell you. Luke said it’s the Spring Fling this week. I guess now that means a hay bale maze?”

“Ugh,” Jess grunted, rolling his eyes. “The last time I was at this thing, Taylor almost called the cops on me because of my Jethro Tull t-shirt.”

She chuckled as she turned around, headed for the small parking lot with the dumpsters behind Luke’s. “Well, only time will tell what this year will bring.” Sneezing again, she sighed.

“Besides hay fever, that is,” Jess added, teasing, tucking a strand of hair which had fallen loose behind her ear again.

“We’re doing this for Luke, we’re doing this for Luke,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a headache already forming behind her eyes.

.   .   .

She felt transported to the past as they entered Luke’s through the back door, leading into the stock room. It still smelled of tomatoes, dirt, pine; an odd mixture but not unwelcome. The room dark and dank, Ella took Jess’s hand and led him carefully through the random crates and boxes. In his other hand, he held their old duffel, containing both of their only business-appropriate clothes. Apparently, she would be wearing the pencil skirt again much sooner than she had hoped. Jess could already hear Luke ranting before they got to the main room, flashbacks to the consequences of stealing gnomes and baseballs and dry erasers.

Lane passed by the stock room door and caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye. A panic filled her eyes and, immediately, she approached them, a dirty dish bin held in just one hand.

“He’s on the warpath, guys,” she began, retreating into the dim room and glancing over her shoulder anxiously.

“Well, hello to you too, Lane,” Ella smirked.

Lane’s face morphed into a delicate, rushed smile. “Right, sorry, sorry. How’s one of America’s most historical cities?”

Jess shrugged. “Historic.”

“Wow, your vocabulary had really grown since I last saw you,” Lane said, feigning amazement.

A crash sounded, followed by a yell, from out in the main room. The door slammed and Ella couldn’t mistake the sound of a fearful yelp from some customer.

“I think we can continue this love fest later,” Ella suggested, gesturing to the main room.

“Agreed,” Lane said, turning on her heel.

Jess and Ella followed her out of the stock room, finding the counter almost completely empty of customers. The tables were dotted with just a few customers, staring down silently at their plates, faces drawn in fear. Boots trodding heavily on the tiled floor, Luke was making his way back from the door to the kitchen. Caesar was nowhere in sight, and a thin cloud of smoke was billowing through the kitchen window. The front windows were a view of nothing but giant walls of hay. Nothing boded well. Ella glanced at Jess doubtfully, and he only gave a slight shake of his head in response.

“Can I get you guys something?” Lane asked, returning to the space behind the counter.

“No, I think I’d rather not risk it,” Jess said, taking a stool, placing the duffel on the floor next to him.

Ella hopped onto the seat next to him. “Says Mr. I-Live-On-The-Edge.”

“Even I have my limits,” he replied.

“I’m fine, too. Thanks Lane,” Ella told her friend.

A couple steaming plates appeared from the kitchen window, burgers blackened and fries soggy. Lane looked at them suspiciously, but placed them in front of Kirk, who sat on Jess’s other side. Kirk grinned and nodded emphatically.

“The gourmet experiments keep on coming,” he exclaimed, digging in with a fork and knife instead of his hands.

Ella’s brow crinkled. “Kirk, that’s-”

“Don’t,” Lane warned. “It’s...not worth it.”

Perking his head up from his food, Kirk craned his neck to see the two of them. “Oh. You’re back. I’ve missed your pies, Ella. I hope Luke has rhubarb.”

“Kirk, we’re not...moving back here. We’re only gonna be here until tomorrow,” she said, head tilted in confusion.

He narrowed his eyes, then turned to stare closely at Jess, who leaned back against Ella slightly. “You just had to take her to Philadelphia with you.”

Jess was about to respond, before Ella jumped in again, tone vehement.

“Excuse me, Kirk, but I moved to Philadelphia on my own to go to grad school. Jess just happened to be there.”

“The hand of fate, huh?” Kirk asked, unphased. “What a beautiful thing.”

Jess snickered, eyeing Ella to gauge a response. Instead of retaliating, her jaw tensed and she turned her head to the kitchen window.

“Luke, we’re here!”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke reappeared from the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up messily, his shirt splashed with grease. He didn’t look as though he’d been careful in the kitchen. A black baseball cap sat backwards on his head, the one he’d been wearing since he and Lorelai broke off their engagement. But Ella had heard, through her weekly phone calls with Lane, Lorelai and Christopher had divorced, breaking up once again. The constant romantic whiplash was beginning to make Ella dizzy.

“Oh. Hey, guys. How was the drive?” Luke asked.

“Well, I don’t know about Eleanor, but that huge ball of twine gets more interesting every time I pass it,” Jess deadpanned, arms crossed over his t-shirt, elbows on the counter.

Ella smiled thinly. “Jess is thrilled about the Spring Fling, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah, I might’ve guessed. I mean, who could forget that Jethro Tull incident?” Luke replied.

She was about to respond, but instead Ella buried her nose in her sleeve again and sneezed.

“Bless you,” Jess said.

She sneezed again.

“Bless you,” he repeated, smirking.

A moment more, and she sneezed a third time.

“And one more for good measure,” Jess continued, increasingly smug. “Bless you.”

Luke furrowed his brows at Ella. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“The hay doesn’t agree with Rudolph,” Jess chimed in, smoothing a hand over Ella’s back.

Blinking the wateriness from her eyes again, she shot Jess a look. “Bite me.”

“Just like old times,” Luke grumbled, going over to the register when two meek customers came up to pay.

Catching her breath, Ella got down from the stool again. “I’m gonna go to Doose’s. Try to get something to handle this new reindeer look I’ve got going for me.”

“You want me to go with you?” Jess asked, almost hopefully.

“As much as I would love that, cutie, I think your existence would probably be a catalyst for Taylor’s flashbacks. I’ll be back in like ten minutes. I think you’ll survive.”

“That’s debatable,” he said.

She turned away and sneezed into her elbow yet again, growling under her breath in annoyance.

“Debatable for me and you both,” he added, smirking once more.

Flipping him off, she made her way to the front door, preparing to brave the wall of hay which was about to meet her eye-to-eye.

.   .   .

“Don’t touch!” Ella exclaimed, exchanging a flathead screwdriver for a phillip’s head on the counter next to her.

“Do you see me touching anything?” Jess shot back, rounding the counter to make his way to the dish pit.

She snorted a bitter laugh. “You were getting too close. I think you just coming in this register’s dance space would be enough to break it more.”

“If you make one more Dirty Dancing reference-”

“Need I remind you of the shower head?” she continued, ignoring his complaints.

He sighed heavily.

“Oh, please, remind him of the shower head,” Luke piped up from where he was wiping off the red tables.

“In January, the shower was leaking,” Ella began, straightening up from her spot tinkering with the cash register drawer.

“C’mon, Elle,” Jess moaned from the dish pit.

“Jess, both Luke and I are privy to the swan attack. This is far less humiliating, I promise.”

“Fine,” he said, turning the boiling hot tap back on. Only a few more mugs and he would finally be finished. He was careful to avoid any stray kitchen knives.

“The shower was leaking. I had class, but I said I would fix it when I got home. Because, somehow, Chris, Matthew, and Jess are all completely devoid of home improvement skills,” Ella said. “Jess tried, which was so sweet of him. But then the entire shower head and the faucet ended up coming off the wall. It took me four hours to get them back on.”

“Hence the register dance space,” Luke replied, biting back laughter.

“Exactly.”

“Hey, I fixed that toaster out there!” Jess shouted over the sound of the water.

“And it only took you six years to admit it,” Ella said.

“Shut up,” Jess retorted.

“There’s the charm,” she mocked. She pushed the small gold button, and the register drawer popped out silently. A bright smile crossed her face. “This might be the first time this hasn’t sounded like Janet Leigh since I started working here.”

She wondered in the back of her mind why Luke hadn’t fixed the cash register sooner. It was antique; maybe he thought a screeching drawer just came with the territory. Or, maybe it was because nearly every single repair he had done in the past few years was on either the Gilmore house or the Dragonfly Inn.

“I told you guys you didn’t have to work,” Luke said, rolling his eyes guiltily. He began flipping the chairs up onto the tables, stuffing his damp rag into his apron.

“For the last time, we wanted to!” Jess called from the back, wiping his hands on a stained dish towel as he finished up with the mugs.

“Well, you’ve done enough. I can finish closing. Go see the Spring Fling.” Luke came over and took the screwdrivers from Ella’s hand, putting them back in his toolbox and shutting it with a snap! before she could protest.

“Oh, yes, it’s bound to get wild out there in the hay bale maze,” Ella quipped, going to grab her coat from the rack with Jess following behind.

“You’re tellin’ me. Just go see it. Taylor certainly spent enough on it.” Luke went back to the tables, upturning the chairs rhythmically, as he had for so many nights and so many years, wearing the same thing.

“We’ll be back before midnight,” Ella said, shrugging on her leather jacket and tugging her long hair, half-up, half-down, out from beneath the collar.

“And, now that we’re grown up, we can go get involved with as many ritual cults as we want while we’re out,” Jess added, grabbing Ella’s hand.

“Don’t mention that in the deposition tomorrow,” Luke warned.

“It’s good you said something. Otherwise, I definitely would have mentioned it,” Jess shot back smugly.

As they emerged into the evening, the stars were just beginning to appear, Luke having closed up early at around eight o’clock. Ella looked around, trying to see any other way into the maze besides the opening just in front of Luke’s. She’d thought about popping into her old house, surprising Fiona and Adam after school. But, she’d gotten busy with the dinner shift and could see no physical way to get there in the dim light of the twinkly strings somewhere beyond the maze.

“How the hell do they pay for stuff like this?” Jess asked as they began strolling through the maze.

“Beats me,” Ella replied, shaking her head. “This place makes no economic sense. I stopped guessing a long time ago, my friend.”

He hummed, eyes roaming over the seemingly endless yellow straw. “Tax fraud, you think?”

“I wouldn’t put it past Taylor,” Ella said, smirking.

“Oh, now how could you accuse a sweet old man like that of such a crime?” he asked, feigning shock.

She shrugged, grinning. “Since he conveniently ‘lost’ the money for the bridge renovations and we had to start the whole fundraiser over again.”

“Y’know I was the one who took that money, right?” Jess asked, thinking back to his first two weeks in Stars Hollow.

“No, I meant the first time. I was like eleven,” she explained, feeling a pleasant night time breeze ghost through her hair.

“What?” Jess chirped. “It happened before?”

“Yeah, and Taylor kept saying someone stole it. But I had a sneaking suspicion it was an inside job.”

Breathing deeply, she could smell nothing but the hay. It seemed odd, considering the Spring Fling usually had booths with caramel apples and popcorn and all other sorts of junk. But, she was also just glad she could breathe through her nose again with the help of the allergy medicine she’d picked up at Doose’s, though her eyes were still a bit itchy.

“How very Watergate.”

“I’m telling you,” Ella insisted, only half-joking, “Taylor could be an evil genius for all we know.”

“It would explain a lot,” Jess agreed, nodding. They’d taken many turns, and he figured they must be nearing the end. The carnival in town square was what he remembered as the main event.

“Yes, all the sweater vests would be perfect for establishing a mild-mannered cover,” she continued, speaking with her free hand.

“Well, with that logic, Chris is also an evil mastermind,” Jess pointed out.

Ella pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “I think Chris is probably more of a Jekyll and Hyde situation.”

“I just love how much faith you have in humanity,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She laughed, and was about to retort, when they turned a corner and she almost ran straight into Lorelai. Her stomach did a quick flip, and her hand tightened slightly on Jess’s. But then, her old instincts kicked in, and she plastered a small, polite smile on her lips. On Lorelai’s right side, Rory stood hand-in-hand with some blonde guy.

“Oh, hey!” Lorelai greeted them brightly, looking between them. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Only for today and tomorrow. Just taking care of some stuff, y’know?” Ella said, unsure of whether Lorelai would be aware of the custody battle. Then, she turned to Rory. “What about you guys?”

“Visiting. We just had to come down for the Spring Fling,” Rory explained. She turned to the man at her side, gesturing between him and the two of them. “This is my boyfriend, Logan.”

“Oh, hi,” Ella said, shaking Logan’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure,” he grinned slyly, one dimple on his left cheek. “Strong handshake.”

“That’s what I’m famous for,” she replied. “I’m Ella.” Tilting her head to Jess, she broke hands with Logan. “And that’s Jess.”

“Hey,” Jess said shortly, also shaking Logan’s hand.

Logan’s smile didn’t even falter in the wake of Jess’s tight demeanor. “Nice to meet you, Jess.”

“So, how about this hay bale maze? Gives you Labyrinth vibes, doesn’t it?” Lorelai asked, smiling warmly.

“Yeah. All that’s missing is Bowie,” Ella agreed, nodding.

Intertwining their fingers again, Jess leaned into Ella’s side slightly against the chilly spring breeze.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing him in that costume,” Lorelai continued.

“Agreed,” Rory chimed in.

It occurred to Ella how long it had been since they had seen each other. Rory’s hair was longer and straighter, with side bangs and a redder tone. And her clothes seemed different, as well. Kate Spade and Coach and other brands Ella couldn’t have named. As far as first impressions went, she couldn’t quite figure out Logan. His smirk seemed constant, but not genuine like Jess’s. It wasn’t endearing, as though he were about to laugh at a private joke. Instead, it was almost smarmy. She wondered in the back of her mind what he was trying to sell her. Seeing Lorelai, though, was welcome. Images of movie nights and sleepovers and quiet afternoons reading flashed across her memory. Ella could recognize Lorelai just fine in the memories; Rory was not as easy.

“Not sure it’s worth it for how long we’ve been wandering around, though,” Lorelai added. Ella could see new, blonde-ish highlights in her hair. A pang of guilt hit her; with as much Lorelai had done for her, she should’ve checked in more. Even if she and Luke were still, inexplicably, on the outs.

Jess furrowed his brows. “What? I thought we were near the end.”

“Far from it,” Rory said.

“What about the caramel apple stand and stuff?” Ella asked.

“The budget wouldn’t allow it. Not after Taylor bought all the hay in Connecticut,” Lorelai said, gesturing to the maze around them. “This is it.”

Ella scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ll say it again. Evil mastermind.”

“What?” Logan asked, laughing.

Before she could answer, Ella’s nose began to tickle and she caught another sneeze in the crook of her elbow.

“Gesundheit!” Lorelai exclaimed.

“Well,” Jess began, looking between Ella and the other three, “we should probably start making our way to the other side. Seems like sneezy’s allergy medicine is wearing off.”

“Anyone who starts naming the other six dwarves will be in grave danger,” Ella warned, sniffling and blinking harshly.

They bid each other goodbye and were about to part ways when Rory suddenly spun around and called Ella’s name.

“Yeah?” Ella asked.

“Do you wanna maybe...go to lunch at Weston’s tomorrow? If you’re still gonna be in town,” Rory offered, her voice soft and hopeful. Her blue eyes were large in the moonlight.

Ella blew out a breath, considering it for only a moment. “Sure. Meet you at noon, alright?”

Rory nodded, and was soon whisked away again by Lorelai and Logan. They turned a corner and were masked by the hay.

.   .   .

She had never been to the Hartford courthouse, and it shocked her how much the place smelled like a dentist’s office. Chilly and plasticy and devoid of all human feeling. Painted in white with mahogany accents and bright lights, the building had supposedly been standing since before the Salem witch trials. Or so the plaque on the front of the red brick structure read. The minute hand on her watch ticked on silently, as nine o’clock rolled around. Ella had tried sketching, but couldn’t keep her focus on the portrait of her grandmother surrounded by sunflowers. Jess was halfway through a worn Bukowski volume, scribbling penciled notes in the margins, despite the faded writing already there. Ella’s head rested gently on his shoulder, dozing. Neither of them had slept especially well, nervous over the deposition. And neither of them were willing to take Luke’s bed again, and had squeezed onto the old brown couch. They considered the old twin bed, but decided falling off wasn’t worth it.

Ella was nearly asleep, her sketchbook shut and stuffed into her purse next to her, when she felt Jess shifting beneath her. His form tightened, and his breathing had become labored. Immediately, Ella’s eyes shot open, as she recognized the noise. She turned to find the novel shaking in his hands, his eyes wide and watery as his breathing began to pick up.

“Whoa, Jess, hey,” she began calmly, taking the book from his hands and placing it absently on the bench behind her. She faced him fully and reached out, but then hesitated. “Can I touch you?”

He swallowed dryly, trying to fight the tears blurring his vision. One second, he had been underlining a sentence; the next, his entire being became rigid and his heart was pounding. Not long after, he felt his throat tightening. Harsh shivers rolled through his body. He simply couldn’t control his erratic breathing.

Then, his eyes flitted to her face, the crease between her brows, and he nodded slightly.

“Okay,” she replied. Grabbing his wrist with a gentle hand, she brought his palm to her chest, the fabric of her blouse soft beneath his fingers. “Just breathe with me, cutie. Everything will be fine.”

“Pretty optimistic, Stevens,” he grumbled breathlessly, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Desperate times, Mariano. C’mon, just breathe with me,” she said softly, breathing in a long breath through her nose, exhaling out her mouth.

Beneath his hand, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. Though he felt a little silly, he focused on the earnestness in her face. A few pedestrians passed by them, tossing uncertain glances their way, but Ella paid them absolutely no mind. She only focused on Jess. His cheeks were flushed as he ran his free hand over his mouth, nodding at her again as he finally began to mimic her breaths. Air hitching in his throat, he had to try more than a few times to steady himself.

“Good job, James Dean,” she smiled, watching him eventually begin to relax. His cheeks were glistening in the fluorescent light, and she wiped them dry with her thumb. “You okay? I can find you some water.”

“I’m pretty sure all they have here is burnt coffee,” he said, voice still uneven. The stench of stale coffee permeating the air in the whole building only added to the dentist office vibe.

She gave a breathy chuckle. “Hey, anything’s possible. My powers of persuasion are pretty strong.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, averting his eyes from her. His cheeks burned hotly.

“Hey,” she said, tone serious once again, as she placed a hand on the back of his neck, “are you sure? If you can’t do the deposition, you can just write something down. I’m sure I could just go in.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, eyes widening emphatically. “Don’t worry, Daria.”

“Impossible,” Ella said, dropping her hand from his neck and intertwining their fingers instead.

Jess cleared his throat. She saw his eyes flicker nervously over to the door of the room Luke had disappeared into over an hour earlier. Jess almost raised a hand to run through his hair, but then stopped as he remembered they were supposed to look professional in front of the lawyers. He felt fidgety and anxious.

“You’ll do fine, cutie,” she told him.

He faced her again, trying to force a confident smirk on his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to. “I know, just...like you said. What if he loses her? Or if-”

“‘You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that,’” she interjected.

He stared at her curiously for a moment before he ventured a guess. “Chuck Palahniuk?”

“Roald Dahl,” she answered.

“Huh,” he chirped indifferently.

Her eyes lingered on his distracted expression, watching his gaze be drawn again to the door to the deposition. He pursed his lips, a wistful, guarded look.

“Jess,” she started warily, her voice a sigh, “did you ever think about seeing someone? I mean, is this only the second time-”

“Can we please not talk about this, Doctor Laura?” he snapped quietly. Not unkindly, simply impatient. Ella hadn’t previously realized just how nervous he was for the deposition, considering how neutrally he’d reacted when she’d first told him about it.

She sighed again through her nose, jaw tensing. But she reminded herself where they were, and who they were. She told herself not to push too hard, not to worry about him getting scared and running off again. But still, a familiar fear threatened to rise in her throat. She swallowed thickly, then gave a slow nod. She pressed a quick kiss to the back of his hand and disentangled their fingers.

“Okay, James Dean,” she said flatly, handing him back his book. “To be continued.”

“Thank you,” he replied, flashing her a weak, half-hearted smile.

She tried to quiet the uneasiness whispering in her mind.

.   .   .

Weston’s looked much the same. The outdoor tables were adorned with vases of gerber daisies, fluttering in the light breeze. Bright sunlight warmed up the afternoon. Rory came back to the table with a tall coffee in one hand and a tea in the other. A tin of pound cake sat in between them on the frilly lace tablecloth, two forks beside it. Back in her plain purple dress and leather jacket, Ella felt more comfortable. And the judge had, thankfully, ruled in favor of Luke. Ella’s heart was alight with joy at just the thought of the verdict.

But an odd sense of deja-vu filled her. After Saturdays swimming in the Stars Hollow Community Pool, she and her father would come to the bakery, sunburnt and exhausted. She would get an apple tart and he would get a slice of chocolate satin pie. Just the two of them while her mother and brothers were at home playing board games. It had been their place, a father and a daughter, before everything fell apart. Her mind wandered to Jake for only a moment, wondering where he was and what he was doing. She wondered if he ever remembered their post-pool bakery visits, sitting outside with towels wrapped around them, damp bathing suits sticking to their bodies.

But then Taylor rode by, in the front seat on a bus of tourists, blasting his words through a megaphone. She snapped out of it. Offering a grateful smile to Rory, she took a sip of her tea. “Really, Rory, you didn’t have to get my tea.”

Rory waved a dismissive hand as she sat down. “It’s fine, Ella. Consider it making up for those last few birthdays when I wasn’t there to force presents on you.”

Ella smirked through a chuckle. “Okay. Thank you.”

“So,” Rory began, leaning in, conspiratory. “Tell me everything.”

“Well,” Ella said, shrugging and glancing over to her left. She forgot that her vision of the lush green square would be obscured by the wall of dry yellow hay. Having dosed up again on allergy medicine, she was glad to soon be leaving. She snickered under her breath, then turned back to Rory. She had a small smile on her pink lips. For a moment, Ella saw her as she had when they were teenagers. Bookish and shy, similar to Jess in a lot of ways. “I’m pretty busy with grad school. My students are all so fucking smart though, so it’s honestly not all that hard getting things to stick with them.”

“Yeah, Lane told me you graduated early,” Rory nodded along, almost jealous.

“Just took a bunch of summer classes and stuff. Luke gave me so much time to study. I wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise,” Ella shrugged, spinning the tea mug around as she spoke.

“And how’s living with Jess? Above the publishing company, right? Is it Truncheon? I can’t remember. It seems like so long since Luke told me about it,” Rory said, giggling through her words.

Ella’s smile widened. “Yeah, Truncheon. They sell books and local art. Even some of mine, actually. But we live with Chris and Matthew, Jess’s partners, above the store. They’re...interesting. Matthew can do these crazy, Good Will Hunting math problems in his head. And Chris has, like, forty Red Bulls worth of energy everyday, but he hardly ever drinks caffeine. He just has a natural, endless supply. Kinda reminds me of your mom.”

“Sounds eventful,” Rory chimed in.

“That it is. But...it’s really fun. The city...it’s so lively. Everyday I walk outside and it’s a whole new place,” Ella said, blushing slightly at the sentimental words as she spoke them. But it was true. Returning to Stars Hollow always reminded her how much she enjoyed Philly. “But, what about you? Let’s hear about this Logan character.”

“Oh,” Rory began, looking down at her drink. “He’s good. We’re good. He’s really smart and we have a lot in common. And he’s really well-traveled. We’re great. He’s great.”

Eyes widening marginally, suspiciously, Ella nodded at Rory’s babbling. “So, you’re great, I hear. Alright. He makes you happy?”

“He does,” Rory answered, taking a sip of her coffee. Then, after a moment of pause: “It’s just…”

“What’s up, Ror?” Ella asked softly, furrowing her brows. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Rory finally met her eyes again. “It’s just...I got offered this job at a newspaper in Rhode Island. And it’s solid and steady. My mom thinks I should take it.”

“That’s awesome, Rory! You’re gonna be at the Washington Post before we know it!” Ella exclaimed.

Rory offered her a weak smile. “Yeah, but, I also applied for this big scholarship. Only like five people get it every year. But it could be huge, and Logan thinks I could go for it. But, he also just lost about a million dollars and quit his job at his father’s company.”

“Hm,” Ella hummed, trying to keep her face expressionless as Rory continued. They were nowhere near close enough anymore for Ella to criticize her boyfriend.

“And then, the other day, I found this ring...”

“Oh, fuck,” Ella said, leaning back in her chair.

“Yeah,” Rory sighed. “And I have no idea what to do. I don’t know when he’s gonna ask me, if he’s gonna ask me, if he’s gonna want to follow me to Rhode Island, and...I mean, do you wanna spend the rest of your life with Jess?”

Taken aback by the question, Ella bit the inside of her cheek and paused. “Um...I...I hardly believed in love before I met Jess. Sometimes change doesn’t happen all at once. But...I mean...I would always rather be with him than not with him. If that means I want to spend the rest of my life with him…then, yeah. I do.”

Rory tucked her hair behind both her ears, shrugging. “I guess it’s not the same type of thing. I mean, you’ve been the Catherine to his Heathcliff forever.”

“Nothing’s perfect, though, Ror,” Ella said. She thought back to a few hours earlier in the courthouse, Jess’s stony expression. She could practically see the scowl he was sporting back the diner, where she’d find him after Weston’s to drive back home. “I mean, marrying someone doesn’t solve everything. Living together doesn’t solve everything. Jess and I argue. We fight.”

“Yeah, I think we all remember what it was like when you two worked at the diner together,” Rory scoffed nostalgically.

Ella snorted a laugh. “Believe me, I know. Jess and I don’t love each other because it’s easy. We don’t communicate the best sometimes. He’s not the chattiest, if you remember. And I’m not the most flexible. He turns the heat up in the apartment way too high. And, sometimes, I swear he’s got the worst taste. But we promised each other a long time ago we would always try for each other. That’s all it is. We try for each other.”

“You sound like a Nicholas Sparks novel,” Rory said, giggling once more.

“I do not!” Ella exclaimed, a blush creeping further up her skin.

“Oh, really?” Rory asked doubtfully. “Tell me what you love about him, then. Tell me the little details about the man who melted the icy Ella Stevens.”

Ella snorted again, shaking her head. “It wasn’t some sexist Taming of the Shrew situation. He’s just...he’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“Come on, you have to get back to Philly soon, don’t you? Humor me for the sake of this advice session,” Rory continued.

Rolling her eyes and groaning dramatically, Ella shifted in her seat and sighed. “Fine. For old time’s sake, Rory. He...he’s such a good writer. He writes like nothing I’ve ever read before. It’s thoughtful and deep and...I don’t know. He does that thing where he bites his lip when he’s nervous. And he’s probably the biggest romantic I’ve ever met. I used to think it was absurd, but now it’s just cute. He rubs circles on my back sometimes, for no reason. He just…always likes to be touching. And, as much as that man loves words, it’s the actions. He doesn’t need to say something for me to know...I guess. He’ll show me instead. Does that make sense?”

After a moment of gaping, Rory burst out in laughter. “I knew it was serious. I didn’t know it was a Tennyson poem.”

“Alright, alright, enough,” Ella grumbled in embarrassment. “The point is: do you want to be with Logan for the rest of your life?”

Rory’s face fell slightly, and she could only manage a non-committal shrug.

As the breeze blew past them again, and Ella watched Rory’s expression falter, she felt her stomach fill with nerves. She hadn’t realized it before, quite how committed she was. When she imagined her life, Jess was always there. It wasn’t even a question. She didn’t know exactly when she’d decided he would be a permanent fixture, if he wanted. But apparently she had. And no matter how frustrated she was with his refusal to talk about his panic attacks, or the anxiety which had been following him for, perhaps, years, it didn’t matter. It had been a tough trip for him. She just wanted to get back to him, to make sure he was alright. To see if he was feeling better.

[damienthepious]

speaking of, for definitely no reason whatsoever, here is a list of the softest, gentlest rad bouquet fics I’ve written, all rated T or below.

Like Whispering [t] [ao3] ~2k words - Rilla wakes up, and gets distracted analyzing her fascinating monster while he sleeps.

each kiss to lip and cheek [t] [ao3] ~600 - A soft little list analyzing lizard kissin’ as an activity.

Each Day You’d Rise With Me [t] [ao3] ~700 - Mornings in the Keep, together and in love.

Make It Up As We Go [t] [ao3] ~400 - The bouquet, dancing.

The Touch Of Softest Petal [t] [ao3] (avg) 400 - a collection of 8 prompted ficlets about the three of them kissing.

Eye to Eye [t] [ao3] ~700 - A conversation in the swamp on a quiet day.

Different Now [t] [ao3] ~1k - Some changes are good.

Waves of this Feeling [t] [ao3] ~1k - Arum helps Damien down from a panic attack.

Thus Unfurled [t] [ao3] ~2k - Saintsrise. Today, today they are all family.

[edited 9-7-2020 to add!]

Solace At Your Door [t] [ao3] ~900 - Rilla comes home to the Keep, and finds a restful scene waiting for her. (originally published in the Seasons of the Citadel zine!)

If Secrets Were Like Seeds [t] [ao3] ~600 - Arum has always had secrets. Now, he finally has people to share them with.

susurrus [t] [ao3] ~200 - Arum comforts Damien after a nightmare. Told exclusively through dialogue.

Space To Be Kinder [t] [ao3] ~1k - Sir Damien talks in his sleep.

Falling [t] [ao3] ~1k - Rilla gently tricks prompts Arum into admitting something soft.

Undertones [t] [ao3] ~1k - Damien finds a way to speak his heart while still making sure that Arum isn’t too overwhelmed by his words.

Take care of yourselves. Be gentle. Kiss lizards.

[edited 8-21-2021 to add]

twined [t] [ao3] drabble - Holding hands.

Honey Soaked Light [t] [ao3] ~2k - Arum admits to hurt feelings, and Damien responds rather gallantly.

your sweet lips on my lips [t] [ao3] ~1.5k - The bouquet experiments with how kissing works, with Lord Arum.

To Be Inside Your Arms [t] [ao3] ~2k - Post-BaWE, the bouquet is very, very tired.

could stay right here [t] [ao3] - ~2k - Arum isn’t quite used to sharing a bed.

a leg up [t] [ao3] ~700 - For once, Arum leans up for a kiss.

Less Like A Deadly Weapon [t] [ao3] ~3k - Rilla helps Damien shave. Arum is persuaded to help as well.

kiss it better [t] [ao3] ~1.5k - Damien has more than his fair share of scars. His loves want to help to soothe them, each in their own way.

slowly a sunlit dream [t] [ao3] ~2k - Rilla asks to be held, a little clumsily.

mwah! be sofft!!

[edited 4-11-2024 to add]

delicate as [ao3] drabble - Perhaps Damien should be accustomed to this by now.

Missives [ao3] ~1k - Lord Arum cannot join Damien and Rilla in much of their lives. Luckily, they are all of them too clever to let that stop them from sharing as much as they possibly can.

A Sound That Runs In The Deep [ao3] ~1k - Amaryllis says I love you. Inadvertently. In a language not entirely her own.

Lulling [ao3] ~500 - Sir Damien with a baby.

oh, admiration in falling asleep [ao3] ~1k - Sleepy Damien and Arum share some cloth.

in the keep of this rainy morning [ao3] ~600 - Arum takes a lazy day.

Flowers Pick Themselves [ao3] ~1k - Arum’s swamp is a part of him. It loves as he loves.

Maybe Sprout Wings [ao3] ~1.5k - Rilla tries to soothe some of Arum’s oldest wounds.

Held [ao3] ~300 - Holding hands.

fly out into white clouds [ao3] ~500 - An extremely sleepy Rilla, in the arms of an affectionate monster.

watch the ones that I love bloom [ao3] ~1k - None of them had particularly playful childhoods, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be playful now.

makes them kind [ao3] ~1.3k - Taking a break together.

Veiled [ao3] ~500 - A stolen moment at the edge of a Citadel party.

Budding, Blooming [ao3] ~4.5k (two-shot) - A rad bouquet florist/tattoo artist au. Hilariously.

Alternate [ao3] ~1k - Would this have been possible, were the circumstances different?

[marzipanparty]

Here’s the full piece i did for the Blooming Panic: All Year Round zine!! Physical copy preorders are over but you can still get a digital version of it here! Blooming Panic is my favorite 90s shoujo anime 🌸💖 i loved the episode where Toaster takes us out on a cherry blossom viewing date 👀

[lady-divine-writes]

Husband, Guardian, Muse - Chapter 1/3 (Rated NC17)

Summary: After the untimely death of his husband and muse, Crowley tries to find the simplest, most foolproof way to join him. But in the days that follow, he discovers that sometimes what looks like an ending can turn out to be a beginning, and that no one is ever really gone if we find a way to remember them.

Notes: This was the piece I wrote for Celestial Harmonies Zine :) Go check it out. Human au. Warning for heavy angst, death, alcohol abuse and thoughts of suicide. But it does have a happy ending :)

Crowley hated working over his vacations.

Wasn’t the point of being a semi-famous artist that he got to make his own hours, work alone, and spend as much time at home with his husband as he wanted?

Not this time, apparently. Not since Alciston & Selmeston Village Hall decided to do a complete renovation, including replacing their hospitality-grade art with original work from local artists, he had been stuck in meetings and consultations all week while his husband occupied himself at their cottage.

Aziraphale said he didn’t mind since he was doing renovations of his own – a new work space for Crowley, an extension to his library, expanding the wine cellar. Being alone gave Aziraphale the opportunity to putter over fabric samples and color swatches in peace without his husband intervening every five minutes with his supposed “expert eye for nuance”.

But Crowley had enough of forgoing lunches with his husband (as well as afternoon delights) in favor of another discussion over whether or not a Monet-inspired acrylic of waterlilies would be appropriate for the treasurer’s office. He launched his escape when an argument over abstract sculptures for public spaces broke out. He grabbed a blank canvas under the guise of starting a new piece and slipped away in his Bentley. He hit the interstate and sped off like a bat out of hell, making it to their cottage in record time.

Crowley loved how secluded it was in their small patch of heaven. Tucked far and away from any other living souls, no one complained about their activities – amorous or otherwise - be it at three in the afternoon or three in the morning.

Crowley shed his jacket, his keys, and his phone at the front door, then he wandered the rooms, the canvas from earlier tucked beneath his arm, making as much noise as possible to alert his husband of his arrival.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley called, walking through the kitchen in search of his muse. “Aziraphale! Where are you, angel? I miss your ass!”

“I thought you had to work this afternoon.”

Crowley smiled. “I am working. I’m doing a portrait of a gorgeous man, as soon as I find him.”

“No …” Aziraphale chuckled. “You’re supposed to be doing a landscape for the city planner’s office.”

“No,” Crowley insisted, inspecting another empty room. “I’m painting you. Naked if I have my way.”

“You just want to snog,” Aziraphale teased.

“Nothin’ wrong with that. Now where are you? This cottage i’n’t that big.”

“Out here, installing the track lighting.”

Crowley turned the corner to the patio – a space they’d recently added to give Crowley a protected outdoor area to work. There was Aziraphale – his intrepid Aziraphale – braving their rickety, eighty-year-old ladder to install a row of lights. The chrome runner and bonnets gleamed in the midday sun, right in Aziraphale’s eyes, so he was installing them blind, his eyes shut against the reflected light, feeling around for the holes to put the screws in. Crowley winced when the ladder shivered beneath Aziraphale’s weight, but Aziraphale seemed oblivious, balancing precariously on his toes to screw the fixture to the wall.

Crowley put the canvas down and held the ladder secure beneath his husband. “I really wish you’d let me do that. Or wait till we buy a new ladder.”

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley with playful blue eyes. “This ladder is fine. Besides, I don’t have much more to do. It’ll only take a ---” Aziraphale leaned sideways. The ladder lurched. Luckily, Crowley reacted in time to keep Aziraphale from toppling head first into the retaining wall.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Crowley said, pulling on Aziraphale’s pant leg. “Get down now.”

“But I only have one screw left!”

That’s an understatement, Crowley thought bitterly in reference to the dozen or so times he’d asked Aziraphale to wait on this project. “I don’t care. Get your ass down off that ladder.”

“Geez,” Aziraphale huffed, carefully navigating the rungs. “You certainly have a fondness for my rear.”

“It happens to be a glorious rear.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s behind and squeezed for emphasis. “I don’t want anything happening to it.” He drew Aziraphale close, relishing the way their bodies fit together, as if some higher power had carved them both from the same slab of stone.

Like they’d been made specifically for each other.

Aziraphale tilted his head, pouting in mock offense. “So, you only care about my rear?”

“Among other things.” Crowley captured Aziraphale’s lips, not waiting for an invitation, trying his best to kiss the pout from Aziraphale’s face.

If Aziraphale’s whimpers were any indication, Crowley was winning.

But Crowley’s cellphone, ringing where he’d left it, called a foul on his game. He had no intention of stopping, but Aziraphale annoyingly felt that job and responsibility came before snogging.

“You should get that,” he struggled to say, voice muffled by Crowley’s lips pressing insistently against his.

“Nope.”

“But it’s probably village hall, wondering where their artist is.”

Crowley frowned as his husband squirmed out of his arms while laughing at what Aziraphale called Crowley’s “sour mug”. Crowley narrowed his eyes at his husband.

“I’m going to go answer that, but just to tell them to get lost, and then I’m getting you naked.”

Crowley peppered Aziraphale’s cheeks with kisses to a symphony of his giggles. Then, with a heavy-handed swat to his backside, he reluctantly released his husband and ran inside to answer the phone.

Despite his frustration at having to put his escapades with his husband on hold, Crowley couldn’t help smiling. He loved his life. He loved his marriage. He especially loved the time they spent at their cottage in the South Downs. He’d always be a city dweller, but this place was paradise. He loved bringing his husband here and having him all to himself.

Crowley and Aziraphale had been blessed with a wonderful five-year-long honeymoon, and he didn’t see that ending anytime soon.

“Coming, coming,” he yelled at his insufferable phone, but he wasn’t exactly rushing to get it. By the time he reached it, it stopped ringing.

“Oh, no,” he joked. “I didn’t get here in time. Whatever shall I do?”

It didn’t matter to him anyway since no power on heaven or earth could have convinced him to leave his husband right as he was preparing to ravish him.

And to make sure they weren’t interrupted again, he turned his ringer off.

“Well, now that that’s settled …”

A sharp noise pricked at Crowley’s ears. Nothing too alarming. In fact, it could have been a bird chirping. But it filled him from head to toe with dread.

He didn’t know how he could possibly feel the ladder tilt from inside the cottage, but he felt the sway of it as if he was standing on it instead of Aziraphale. After a swoop of sudden and inexplicable nausea hit him, everything happened absurdly fast. He heard Aziraphale yelp, a loud metallic clatter, then a horrifying crack, like pottery hitting pavement.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley called, and then he waited. When his husband didn’t answer, he started to panic. “Aziraphale!” He ran for the patio, having the sense of mind to start dialing 9-9-9, knowing in his heart that his husband would need an ambulance. “Aziraphale! Are you alri---?”

Crowley got his answer the second he burst through the patio door.

No, Aziraphale wasn’t alright.

Aziraphale definitely wasn’t alright.

***

It rained the day they buried Aziraphale.

This weather was such a marked change from the weeks of sunny skies and no clouds. Aziraphale had mentioned how they needed a good, all-day rainstorm to trap them indoors where they could snuggle together on the sofa with mugs of cocoa and listen to the drops fall. Aziraphale was a quintessential pluviophile. He found peace in the rain.

Crowley hated the rain. He hated getting wet. He hated when his soaked clothes stuck to his skin and cold water ran into his socks. He hated sloshing inside his shoes, and the way they never completely dried. But as much as he hated the rain, he loved Aziraphale, and the rain made Aziraphale happy.

So Crowley became a pluviophile for Aziraphale.

Crowley stood by Aziraphale’s casket beside his open grave and waited in the rain. He waited while the mourners paid their respects. He waited while everyone hugged and cried. He waited until the final mourner wandered somberly away. He waited until they lowered Aziraphale into the ground, and even after there was nothing left to witness, he waited until nightfall, when the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the stars came out.

Crowley had painted stars hundreds of times. They were one of his favorite subjects to paint.

Now, he didn’t want to look at them.

Tracy, one of Aziraphale’s dearest friends, and her husband Sergeant Shadwell, returned to the cemetery a little before midnight in search of their missing friend, convince him to go home, but Crowley refused to leave. So they waited with him, not pressing the issue even though Crowley was sopping wet and stifling sniffles he knew would bloom into a full-blown cold later on.

At some point, Crowley finally came to the conclusion that Aziraphale wasn’t going to magically return, so he took Tracy’s hand and let himself be led away from his husband’s final resting place. Crowley’s forehead burned with fever by the time the couple got him back to the cottage, but Crowley turned down Tracy’s offer to stay. As much as Tracy objected, in the end, she didn’t have the strength to battle her own grief and Crowley’s, and they left the man alone.

Crowley walked through the unlit cottage, straight out back to the patio, shoving aside a morbid sense of déjà vu. He dropped heavily into a wicker chaise and looked up at the clear night sky, but his vision was obscured by something shiny hanging a few feet above his head.

The light fixture.

That stupid track lighting.

Crowley stared at it in shock as it dangled on its two screws.

The fixture was there, brand new out-of-the-box, installed except for one damn screw, but because of it, Aziraphale was dead.

Crowley snapped.

He spotted an abandoned hoe over by the retaining wall, a few feet from where Aziraphale had fallen. He grabbed it and, with a renewed vigor, attacked the lights.

“Goddamned lights!” he screamed. “What the fuck did we need these for, Aziraphale? Why did you have to put them up when I asked you to wait!? Why didn’t you wait, Aziraphale!? Why couldn’t you just sit on your ass and fucking wait!?”

The sound of the hoe hitting the lights and the brick behind it echoed. The force of the blows caused the hoe to vibrate painfully in Crowley’s hands, but he only tightened his grip and struck harder.

“Fuck you, Aziraphale! Why did you have to put up these stupid lights!?” Crowley screamed, shattering the bulbs and sending a spray of glass falling over his hair and clothes. “I told you to wait! I told you I’d do it! I don’t need the lights, Aziraphale! I need you, Aziraphale!”

He pounded the bonnets flat, chipped away a good portion of the brick wall, but it didn’t make him feel better. He didn’t feel avenged. He could pick those lights apart piece by piece, chop them up until they became dust, but that wouldn’t bring his husband back. And why was he taking out his anger on the lights? He should turn that hoe on himself. Why the fuck hadn’t he held the ladder till Aziraphale finished? He knew how stubborn his husband was, how determined he’d be to finish something he’d started. Why didn’t he take Aziraphale’s place and screw in the lights himself, get it over and done with once and for all? Those lights didn’t kill his husband, nor the ladder. And it wasn’t Aziraphale.

It was Crowley.

He was the only one to blame.

Panting hard and with blistered palms, he dropped the hoe on the ground at his feet.

He’s the one. He did this. He killed his husband.

He destroyed his muse.

He stumbled into the cottage and rifled through the cabinets, searching for a fresh bottle of whiskey. He couldn’t stand being sober any longer. His hand came in contact with a bottle that felt mostly full. He grabbed it and pulled it down. Except this bottle wasn’t his spare bottle of Jack.

It was a lone bottle of Hennessy … and it had belonged to Aziraphale.

Crowley’s first instinct was to toss the bottle up against the wall and smash it. He looked around for an open space to hurl it when he caught sight of his paintings - a new crop he had started working on for a show in the fall, all of them featuring his muse.

Aziraphale.

Crowley hadn’t set them up in here. Aziraphale had. He was so proud of them, he’d displayed them. That way he could look at them while Crowley toiled down at the village hall, wasting his talents painting hillsides and sunsets.

But Crowley couldn’t look at them. They represented everything he’d had and lost in an instant. Being in their presence made him realize that he couldn’t go on this way. He couldn’t keep being the artist he was when the only subject he enjoyed painting was gone.

He didn’t want to keep existing when the only man he’d ever loved was dead.

He took a swig of the Hennessy to steady his nerves. With his body burning hot and fire in his veins, he grabbed up the paintings, every last one, and carried them outside, dropping them in an undignified pile on a patch of bare earth a distance from the cottage. He doused them with the cognac, gritting his teeth as the liquid assaulted the paint, causing it to bleed, distorting Aziraphale’s face, twisting it, like Aziraphale’s body would eventually be, decaying inside his coffin.

When the bottle was just about empty, he rummaged through his pockets for his silver Zippo. He didn’t smoke, but he liked keeping a lighter on hand for emergencies. And why carry around a common plastic BIC when he could spend over a hundred dollars on something he only used once or twice a year? But that was the man Crowley was.

Frivolous.

Over-the-top.

Who in their right mind chooses to make a living as an artist anyway? He didn’t even want to be a painter initially. But when his trust fund matured and he gained control of it, he realized that he had more than enough money to live the life of a rock star and never work a day in his life. On a whim, he began to dally with watercolors and voila! He unlocked a secret talent.

But he should have done something respectable - gone to law school, or medical school. If he’d done either of those, Aziraphale might still be alive.

He’d give it all away, call a complete do over on his life, to get Aziraphale back.

He flipped the lighter open and an orange flame sprang to life. Crowley tossed the lighter into the pile. The flame barely touched the heap before the whole thing went up in a blaze. Crowley stood back and watched it burn, watched the past three months of his life go up in smoke. The paint melted, the canvas crackled, sparks of color went flying into the sky.

“There, Aziraphale,” Crowley grumbled, his throat raw from screaming. “It’s done. All of it. No more muse … no more you … no more paintings. I’ve buried it all with you. I’m done!”

Weak, tired, and sick, Crowley drank the dregs of Aziraphale’s cognac while fire devoured his paintings … and the love of his life.

It seemed too much work to trudge back to the cottage and climb into bed, so he lay down on the hard-packed earth next to the destroyed canvases. They maintained a slow burn, the air around him reeking of chemical smoke. Crowley hoped it would seep into his sinuses and suffocate his brain. Or maybe an errant cinder would jump onto his alcohol-soaked clothes and he would burn to death in his sleep; a sudden temperature drop freeze him to the ground where he lay. Either way, without Aziraphale, his bed wasn’t his bed, his home wasn’t a home, and Crowley wished more than anything that he could find the quickest and most efficient way to die.

Crowley had prayed that he would black out, surrender to an unconsciousness where time passed outside of memory, but he had no such luck. Locked inside sleep, he had the same dream over and over - Aziraphale falling from the ladder and cracking his head on the wall. And no matter what Crowley did, no matter how fast he ran, no matter if he didn’t go into the cottage to answer the phone, Aziraphale still died.

That was an absolute. It never changed.

Which meant that doctor, lawyer, or artist, Aziraphale would still die.

Before dawn, Crowley had no idea when, he heard a rustle, followed by footfalls on the ground, and he wrestled through the fog in his brain to open his eyes. If he was about to be mauled by wild animals, he wanted to know. But what he saw was a man – a beautiful man - approaching the charred pile, focused on it as if a sick, drunk, and urine-smelling Crowley wasn’t lying mere feet away. The man bent over the burnt canvases, a trembling hand pressed to his lips, and a gasp escaped his mouth.

Crowley had an overwhelming urge to reach out to the man, apologize for setting the paintings on fire, but why, he couldn’t explain. Crowley groaned, trying to form words with his sticky tongue. He rolled slightly, blinking to get a better look at his paintings’ solitary mourner, but when he opened his eyes, the man was gone, and Crowley fell asleep once again.

Crowley awoke after sunrise to the sound of laughter breaking through the haze of his fever-induced stupor. It was high-pitched, familiar. It sounded like heaven and home and the future Crowley had always dreamed of having, starting during those days when Aziraphale was completely clueless that Crowley had a crush on him. He could punch himself in the eye for the time he’d wasted not outright saying, “Aziraphale, I’m in love with you!”

Time he could use now.

Time he would never get back.

Back then, it took him longer than necessary to realize what he’d known from the beginning, from the first moment they met.

He wanted Aziraphale. Just Aziraphale.

Crowley peeled open his eyes and craned his head in search of the laughter, fixing his gaze on the cottage, and the patio he planned to tear out brick by brick by hand as soon as he was physically able. Somewhere in the midst of his pounding headache and the fog that refused to lift, he spotted piercing blue eyes – blue like the sky in summer – staring at him from behind a golden hibiscus. It was that exact spot Crowley had planned for his painting - the one he’d rushed home to start, of Aziraphale lounging on a chaise in front of the outdoor fireplace, the hibiscus behind him, its golden hue mimicking the highlights in his hair.

Crowley sat up too quickly to see who the eyes belonged to. His head swam, his stomach flipped, and before he knew it, he was on his hands and knees, vomiting over the ground. Crowley heaved until there was nothing left, eyes squeezed shut as his body wrung the past several hours’ worth of alcohol from him. As quickly as he could, he looked back at the cottage with watery eyes, but this time, he saw nothing. He dropped his head. It felt too heavy for his neck so he let it hang while he blinked what remained of his tears from his eyes. He caught a glimpse of his hands, filthy and paint-stained; the ruined cuffs of his suit reminding him that he still wore it. He pictured himself covered in dirt and vomit and knew that if Aziraphale could see him, he would be sorely disappointed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, with that thought lodged in his mind giving him an impetus to move, he crawled back to the cottage on his hands and knees. He felt lousy with fever, but his head began to clear. Small pebbles cut into the palms of his hands, but, unable to get to his feet, he continued to crawl, distracting himself by considering his options.

By the time he made it to the patio, his path seemed certain.

Crowley didn’t want to live, not without Aziraphale. His mind was made up.

He would settle his affairs.

He would finish his commissions, complete his obligations.

And when the cottage and his flat were put up on the market, and all was said and done, he would find the quickest, most foolproof way of being reunited with his husband again.

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Witch and familiar au what if one of the guys from ff xv was cursed as a furry animal and mc, the local witch, finds them and takes care of them and poof they wake up with a half whatever animal/human in their bed and the other is just all "yeah so this awkward but I gotta a good explanation." Im leaning heavily on it being Prompto with some form of dog ears.

I’m glad I can finally get to this request, @roshytsunami! I was originally going to do HCs about a lot of characters in this situation, but now I think I’ll do a short fic.

I think your idea about half fish Noctis (wait, that’s a merman, right?) is awesome! I also really want to see faun Gladio (goat legs and maybe horns?) and maybe a half cat Ignis…rotfl idk. OHH! What about a half falcon Ravus, so he can have wings?!?! Or a wolfy Nyx?! Ok, I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t have time to write all of these right now >.

If any of these ideas sound good to you, please request them! I get to requests before originals and use them to gauge what ideas people think sound interesting.

Btw, Roshy is a mod for an upcoming Prompto centered zine that you can check out here!

Prompto just works too well with SnapChat…

Taglist: @idiotflowerex, @laststory1013, @sayaoqueen, @jophinabean, @mysme-already

If you like what you read, please consider supporting me on Patreon or buying me a Ko-fi!

Love Spell

Eye of newt,Tongue of dove,A blue flame’s soot,NOW SHOW MY LOVE!

Over your table top cauldron you chanted, throwing each ingredient in. The small container bubbled with a pinkish liquid until you chanted the last line, in which it overflowed into yellow steam over the sides. It was the color of a sunflower explosion.

Fitting, considering who you were looking for.

You must be truly desperate to be trying your own spell to find him, you thought to yourself. The room around you stayed quiet as the yellow steam dissipated.

Life wasn’t easy for your friendly neighborhood modern witch. The tarot cards were moody and only liked to read misfortune while your modern cauldron was the size of a two cup measuring cup. Who could afford a giant cast iron pot these days? You made up most of your own spells because the ingredients for the ones you found in old books or online all called for expensive items that couldn’t be found in your city. You were a witch that flew by the seat of your pants, not a broom.

Without warning, the smell of the potion exploded into the room. It was an unpleasant combination like cheap cologne and a seeding mint plant. The odor overwhelmed your small flat and your ran to the kitchen window, throwing it open to gasp at the fresh air.

As your lungs took their fill, you lingered in the warm windowsill. The sun glowed on your skin, heating your body after the cold of your flat. Your fingers played in the soft soil of your flower box, dancing between your herb plants.

Your eyes stared off into the sunny day, willing you to wander down the busy streets below in search of him. You dreamed of him as your gaze settled on your neighbors yellow and orange marigolds. They reminded you of his hair and cheerful smile.

The man you loved had been gone for three days now. He had gone out to get you coffee and never returned. You missed your love and were worried sick about him.

Sure, you had only been dating for a few weeks now, but you knew you loved him the moment you met him. It was the type of situation where the word just fit. He was your sunshine: the light of your life and the warmth to your days. But you had been too scared to tell him that. Now, you were worried you’d never get the chance to.

It had been three sleepless nights, thousands of missed calls, and hundreds of hours out looking for him. But he was still gone without a trace.

You were woken from your daydream by a sound at the door: scratching. Oh by the six, had you summoned something with your made up ramblings?

You spun from the window, grabbing the first item that could be used as a weapon, which happened to be a large wooden spoon. You held your new sword before you, ready for whatever was going to tear your door down. Your breathing came in gasps and your hands shook as you listened to the soft scratching.

Every sound made you flinch. You felt certain that the front door would come flying towards you at any moment. Your heart beat thrummed in your ears.

Silence.

“HERE IT COMES here IT comes here it COMES here itcomeshereitcomes” the words tumbled through your mind faster than you could comprehend them.

But nothing happened.

The door stayed perfectly still. When a soft whimpering was heard from the other side.

It sounded like a puppy.

You willed your frozen feet to move, to help you find out what was outside that door. Your initial instinct was to believe it a daemon’s trick, something to lure you outside, but curiosity got the best of you.

One hand on the doorknob, the other holding your spoon up to strike, you whispered, “Please don’t kill me,” before you threw the front door open.

Staring ahead, you half expected to see some giant, red and black glowing beast, ready to tear you apart. Instead, there was nothing.

You looked down towards movement on the floor to see a golden colored puppy sitting at your feet.

The two of you stared at each other in confusion, before it barked at you with its shrill but adorable voice.

Your head snapped to the upheld spoon. “Sorry!” You apologized while lowering it. The puppy rose to all four feet, trying to measure up to you.

You picked up the small baby, holding it before you to examine it. “So…boy,” you confirmed. “Tell me, are you some great daemon in disguise that I summoned to bring about my own bloodied doom?” You looked the bundle of fluff in the eyes. He just whimpered and waged his tail at you.

“AWWWW! You’re too cute to be here to hurt me! Aren’t you little guy!” At the will of this squirming puppy, you became a baby talking, giddy, melty mess. If it was going to kill you, at least you’d die happy from seeing something so adorable. You carried the little pup inside, cradled in your arms.

The rest of your day was spent drenched in sunlight, warm away from your sorrow. You now had someone to care for.

You made some homemade food for your new friend and stitched up some makeshift toys. You would sprawl out on your living room rug and play with him. As the sun was setting, painting the bricks of your flat in orange, you realized he still didn’t have a name. You smiled, watching the puppy yawn, content to put the task off until tomorrow.

You cuddled into your bed, soft and safe from the world outside. Your new friend whimpered on the floor, until you relented, picking him up to cuddle into your blankets with you. He curled up in your arms and was soon snoring under your adoring gaze.

It felt like mere moments later when you awoke. Everything was so warm; from the morning sun streaming in, to your blankets, even the breath on your skin.

WAIT!

Breath on your skin?!

You looked down frantically. Were a soft puppy had once laid, now a blond haired handsome man lay, curled up against your chest.

Your cheeks burned red as you scuttled backwards. Your bed mate moaned in his sleep.

“PROMPTO!?!” You cried! Was he really here? Now? Was this a dream?

“Errmm, [Y/N]?” He blinked sleep filled eyes, trying to focus on you. “[Y/N]!!!!” He realized suddenly who you were, tackling you onto the other side of the bed.

He was so excited to see you! You had to close your eyes to the onslaught of kisses…very wet kisses.

“Prom! Where have you…what have you…” He pulled away from you, his sky blue eyes staring into yours. You couldn’t help but notice small, fluffy ears sticking out of his golden hair as his tongue lolled out his open mouth. “What happened?!”

“I missed you so much, [Y/N]! I swear I can explain everything!” He dove into a rambling story, a tail swishing in your sheets to his cadence.

Ears, tongue, a tail…had your puppy friend been Prompto?!

“Prom, Prompto, sunshine…PROM! Stop!” Finally you got him to quiet. “I don’t think it’s all worn off…” You picked up your phone to show him what he looked like in the camera. He stared obliviously happy at you as you took his picture.

You turned your phone around. It took him a moment to recognize his own reflection. When he did, he snatched the device from your hands.

“THAT’S ME?!” He cried as though it was your fault.

You just nodded, still in shock at the puppy boy in front of you. A blush bloomed again. You had slept with the puppy, you had rolled around on the floor with the puppy, you had seen the puppy’s…

He started to panic, still staring at your phone.

“You were that puppy!” The realization left your lips.

“YEAH! AND NOW I’M ME BUT I’M STILL PUPPY AND…” Prompto had at least triple your anxiety.

You took a moment to breath. Everything was crazy, but he was here now. That’s what mattered.

“Prom, what happened?” You hoped your forcibly calm voice would help him.

“There was this person and I bumped into them and they knew my name and then I saw them here and…”

He was going to give himself a panic attack at this rate! So, you stopped him in the best way you knew how.

You pressed your lips to his. You had missed these soft lips. You felt the tension in your body release as you tasted his wet lips, letting your souls click into place.

Gently, slowly, you pulled away. “What was that for?” Your sunshine asked breathlessly.

“True love’s kiss and all that jazz,” you replied softly, half hoping it had worked.

“Oh…better try again, then.” And in an instant, your lips were reunited.

You could feel the heat in your cheeks rise. You had never purposefully been in a bed with Prompto,  much less like this before!

As heat was starting to build, he suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide. He jumped out of the bed and made for the bathroom.

“Prom? Honey, what’s wrong?” You called, concerned by his sudden departure.

“Gotta go!” He called, slamming the door.

You smiled at the strange scene.

“IT’S REALLY HARD TO GO WHEN YOU KEEP TRYING TO RAISE YOUR LEG!” He yelled from the other side of the door. Yeah, your Prompto was back.

The rest of the morning was filled with a slow breakfast and as much time in each other’s arms as you could have. Prompto kept trying to lick you instead of kiss you and he accidently did whine a few times.

Eventually, you pieced together his story. It sounded like a rival witch had been trying to cast this spell on you, when Prompto walked out of your apartment and right into it! You laughed with him but vowed to get revenge on whoever did this.

With a little bit of research and luck, you discovered that Prompto’s transformation would go away with time and “warm love”. He would need to constantly be around someone he loved, to take care of them and be cared for, until all the symptoms went away, or else he would transform back into a puppy!

“You poor thing! The shock of the transformation must have scared you so bad that you ran away!” You pet his head, trying to comfort him through understanding.

Prompto laughed nervously.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I guess…this means the cat’s out of the bag…heh or the dog.” He did a weak finger guns to you.

“What?”

“The ‘L’ word stuff! LOVE! Now you know…” He looked down sadly. “And I never got to surprise you or make it super romantic or something…”

You smiled, pulling him in close for a tight hug. “Yeah, but I don’t need that, because I have you.” You pulled away to hold is face in your hands. “Prompto, I love you and I never want to lose you again.”

His eyes sparked. “I love you, too, [Y/N]. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You held each other tight, wrapped in the strongest magic the world had ever known: Love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I was a pretty cute puppy, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you still are!”“I am not!” “You can still be very dog-like at times.”

“Well, you don’t need a leash to keep me around.” ;)

“What if I want one?”

“What?”

“What?”