#but they are the only reason I still pay attention to HB

[trashogram]

Started watching Helluva Boss because of your ideas and writing... I don't quite like it but I'll keep watching just for Striker

-🌼

Awww

That’s very flattering but at the same time I wanna caution you to not subject yourself to disappointment like this 😅😭

[chaifootsteps]

Twitter is talking about a sarcastic chorus video where he holds stolas to account, shows clips of all his mistreatment, his imp classism, his refusal to pay attention to people’s feelings, his obsessive sexual framing toward Blitzø. You can tell he’s listened to critics and he’s researches the exact reasons stolas is falling off. Which is the best response to angry fans. Learn From It.

And the other half is him saying how hard done by life stolas is, spends an extended amount of time explaining and rationalising each and all of his actions with the most gentle sympathetic kid gloves you can possibly imagine. Believing him when he says ‘ravish me’ was a joke even saying it was stolas giving Blitzø a nice way out of getting in trouble. Even claiming stolas views everyone as an equal and is racist by accident. And that Blitzø is definitely super in love with him (only source: that Ozzies bed photo in his phone) His last lines of the video are even “I still ship it no matter what happens”

A lot of fans are still pissed at him but it’s just the stolas stans. But the thing with stolas fans including SC, is they apparently only view stolas actions as bad because he’s preventing himself from reaching his own goals. “He belittles blitz….which is bad because it stops blitz from falling in love with him” like? Huh?

Moral of the story? Even if you're a HH/HB fan who loves the show dearly, don't try to win with this awful fandom, because you won't.

[ezziefae]

How did the virtual event with HB go? I didn't even know she was having these events until that q/a post from a few days ago. Did you have to pay to be apart or was it some kind of ticket that came along with buying TPT?

holly announces any events she’s doing on her instagram, most of them you need a ticket, whether it’s virtual or in person. the event was great, she only answered one of my questions since the moderators were the ones picking out questions for her, which sucked. (I wish she could’ve read off of the comments and picked whichever questions she wanted to answer)

So yes we had to pay for the virtual event ticket + the book (personalized signed book plate) + and some book goodies (like pins and bookmarks) I thought the event was going to be a zoom call event (like it usually is) but it was a youtube live. I remember thinking “so i could’ve just watched the virtual event without paying” but at least i’m getting some goodies and a personalized book plate with it. The virtual event was one hour, and most of the questions she answered were 30% about her faerie books and 70% about her writing tips/advice. I would have definitely preferred to see her in person for many reasons it’s just such a better experience. :) currently there’s a contest for each tour stop, the best cosplay/costume wins a crown, (im very happy about this bc it encourages more people to dress up) and then there’s also a contest where a random person gets picked to have an hour chat with holly. i hope she does this for every book event she does in the future!!

here are some things she answered in the virtual event that caught my attention:

1) She has a plan for an adult fae book, but she still has no idea what she’s doing, it could possibly be 3 books from now.

2) Holly would like to write a coldtown sequel. She hasn’t yet because of schedule issues, with her upcoming sequel Thief of night, and the stolen heir duology, and now another elfhame book.

3) holly has a spotify playlist for the prisoner’s throne, she just forgets to change the settings to make it public. (this was my question)

4) Holly did anticipate the Taryn hate train, her friend absolutely HATED taryn. Holly doesn’t hate taryn to that degree, she feel sympathetic.

5) If holly could hang out with any character she would hang out with kaz brekker

6) Holly’s favorite scene she’s ever written is when Jude had Cardan tied up in the court of shadows with the knife to his throat in the cruel prince.

7) Holly hates hearing her audiobook, its like torture to her

8) Holly had fun making the card game, and is excited for people to play it.

9) Grima mag questioned Lord Jared many times, and did not agree with any of their doings, she was also sympathetic of Wren, resulting in her being cast out of the Court of Teeth.

[accio-victuuri]

CPN : random thoughts 🍬🍭

dumping some minor cpns that has popped up here and there for convenience. as usual, i need one space to ramble.

I also want to take this opportunity to applaud yibo-official for releasing that 1 hour + bts footage. They just went f*ck it and didn’t bother splicing it, they went ahead and dropped it on us out of nowhere. maybe one day they can post an hour long yibo vlog or photo set of yibo selfies. you know. just a suggestion. lol. The last post they made seemed like the final HB related content to share but apparently not. I am so thankful! This is best 3/14 gift!!!! I guess this is also a treat for “yibo movie fans” all over the world who continue to show their support for the overseas screenings.

1. Back in January, YBO posted for HB reaching 300 million in the box office and emphasis on the 3 ( zhan ). People have noticed that this scene looks like it was shot 10/5/2021 — ZZ’s birthday. What a coincidence that they chose this photo to be assigned to the number 3.

2. The way they dropped this big BTS content is reminding us of how the CQL 160 minutes bts was shared before. Is this them taking a page out of that? If there is something turtles are good at, it’s going through hours and hours of BTS footage! This is nothing to us!!! 😂😂😂😂

3. Also this was edited heavily, i can only imagine how many hours of footage they have. The selection of clips and what they can show. The music and it’s arrangement. going back to XZS being quiet — it’s a cpn that the two teams probably worked on this because the project is too big to accomplish by one group only. or maybe it needs a sign-off from the creative director xiao zhan. lol.

The important part of YBO’s post tho is their caption. Especially the part which said : Everything about Mr. Ye is dedicated to all fans of @UNIQ-王��博

I don’t know how many times I have said that Yibo is really making the necessary steps to make himself more mainstream. by that i mean, shedding the title of traffic star. the label itself isn’t all that bad tbh. lots of artists would kill to have the same traffic he does so they can have more endorsements and better scripts their way. however, i observed that he is transitioning to being an actor who hopefully will be loved by a lot of people and not just his core fans. The same goes for XZ, tho he is having a harder time staying away from being a traffic star and his own rice circle. I am in no way discrediting 🍤 or 🏍️, I just mean that the end game for the boys is to be a national celebrity. This transition leaves a lot of responsibility to existing fans like us, to be more welcoming to the new ones. This is why I get so mad when fans pay more attention to drama and fan wars cause it turns off potential supporters. It’s a huge red flag seeing a toxic fan group. I really hope one day, things do settle down and fans learn to be more chill.

4. Another ZSWW cute rumor posted said that WYB will still fuss when he sees old BTS videos of XZ scolding him. So XZ’s advice is to not scold the one you like even if you are jealous — who knows, you might end up together. This is too funny cause we know how fierce ZZ was with WYB, sometimes it’s already scary and you can tell the times he was jealous. 😂😂😂

5. Lastly, Weibo night posted some drama CPs and put it as a 9 grid photo. The pairings are not the most interesting part tho, it’s the top comments. 🤡

>> THIS IS THE LINK TO THE POST IF YOU WANNA JOIN IN. Like the top comments so they stay there, do not comment or reply. <<

On a regular day I would totally say that this is so unnecessary cause we have to respect the drama CPs on that post. Also BJYX is not really a “drama cp”, it’s WANGXIAN and if you believe in SZD there is really no reason to try and compete with commercial CPs. Plus it might indirectly harm the boys too. But i’m feeling petty today so i’m cackling. That’s all. You ask us about a CP? Okay, how about we clown you? I have no love for Sina Weibo and WB night at all so i don’t feel sorry for them or anything. We are just telling the truth, the pairing of XZ & WYB is truly superior. You ask, we answered. What I said about being careful is still true but sometimes you just don’t give a f*ck. It is what it is. 🤡🤡🤡

-END.

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

sorry but it's just like. exceedingly fucking clear to me that republican controlled state legislatures across the country are testing how far they can go right now. bills like tennessee house bill 0009, kentucky house bill 173, and kentucky senate bill 150 are intended to see how far the current political and judicial climate will allow them to restrict the rights of queer people. republicans did this for a little over a decade before they got roe overturned. (source: the first heartbeat bill was filed in ohio in 2011.)

they are setting up to challenge obergefell and lawrence v. texas. the majority opinion of roe cites the due process clause of the fourteenth amendement, arguing that abortion bans violate a right to privacy. obergefell guarantees the right of same-sex couples to marry through the due process clause and the equal protection clause of the fourteenth amendment. the majority opinion argues that marriage is a private decision the state cannot intrude on, citing loving v. virginia (also based on the due process and equal protection clauses of the fourteenth amendment). the equal protection clause protects same-sex couples from being barred from marrying while their opposite-sex peers can marry freely. the majority opinion of lawrence v. texas cites the due process clause as granting same-sex couples a "protected liberty interest" to have private sexual relations. in a concurrence, justice sandra day o'connor cites the equal protection clause as the reason gay sex should be decriminalized. (note: in some states only same sex intercourse between men was criminalized. in others same sex intercourse between women was also criminalized. in still others anal sex was criminalized regardless of whether the participants were of the same or opposite sex. the texas law being challenged in lawrence criminalized anal and oral sex between men only. the lawrence case made it legal for same-sex couple to have sex for the first time in FOURTEEN STATES. that's 28% of the country.)

bills like tn hb 0009 (which would criminalize "male or female impersonators" (i.e. drag performers) from performing in public; a second offense would be a FELONY), ky hb 173 (a don't say gay bill that would "establish limitations on school personnel related to instruction and discussion on sexual orientation, sexual preference, or gender expression," among other fucked up things), and ky sb 150 (which would force schools to out trans and nonbinary kids to their parents and prohibit schools from making teachers use kids' preferred pronouns) are clearly pushing at the limits of legality. they are trying to get the supreme court to uphold these laws when they are challenged so the conservative supreme court can say that according to historical precedent (cited in overturning roe) and publicly agreed upon morality (cited in bowers v. hardwick, a case that upheld georgia's sodomy law in 1986, which also cited historical precedent). whether publicly agreed upon morality actually condemns queer people is unlikely to matter, given the current leanings of the court.

this is all to say: we have to start paying very close attention. a felony charge means you can't vote. they are trying to make sure we can't vote. we have to start calling our legislators. we have to start engaging our politically unengaged friends. we have to. they are coming for us. they are playing the long game. we need to too.

i spent multiple hours researching this and i would appreciate reblogs. it feels like we have come to this crisis point so quickly. obergefell isn't even a decade old. we cannot be comfortable and we must act.

[artschooladventures]

More art? On an art blog? Unprecedented. This is my work from drawing class and its homework. Many many still lifes.

Each of the five still lifes from class were made within 10 minutes. This first one, we were supposed to explore shapes and not focus on details. I think I added a bit too much detail for the assignment, but I do like how it turned out.

In the second one, we were tasked to draw one object first, then measure the others from there. I drew the can first. This is probably my favourite of the five - it only gets worse from here :) I did somehow fuck up measuring the side of that book though.

The next assignment was to only use the side of the charcoal, to create shapes instead of lines. I didn't like this one when I first finished it, but looking back, I think I did a very good job of showing the different shapes.

The fourth drawing was the same as the third, with the twist that we weren't allowed to take the charcoal off the paper at all. This was mostly just very hard. It was difficult for me to visually differentiate the shapes when I couldn't physically lift my pencil to start a new one.

And lastly, this deformed masterpiece. The reason it turned out this deformed, was that we weren't supposed to look at the paper. Just at the examples. I did have a lot of fun drawing this one, and laughing at it when I was done. Goes to show that art doesn't have to be good to be fun.

During class we were supposed to learn about composition, linework, shapes, arranging them, contour, and analysing your example (and own work!) I regret to say that I didn't really pay attention to the composition of my works, but I did get a better feel for lines and shapes.

For homework, we were tasked to set up our own still life and draw it (in graphite) from three different perspectives. I added in the twist of using different pencils for each: an HB, 2B, and 6B

[flysafepapi]

the sin factor 6/?

Peaky Blinders Scream AU

masterlist

Warnings: Vague threats, excess of cute (or what passes for their version of cute)

Summary: It’s in the eyes, too, the same ambition and clawing desperation to be more, get more, hidden behind a carefully blank stare. He also knows that Duke has something Tommy never had although it’s more likely that it’s the other way around, because Tommy has lines that he won’t cross for reasons that are his own. Duke has no such reservations.

tagging: @zablife​​​ @the-makingsofgreatness​​​ @peakyrogers​​​ @hb-writes​​ (let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)

It seems, judging by where they are right now, that his father has decided that the best way to keep an eye on him is to never let Duke out of his sight. Hence the fundraiser or gala or whatever the hell this is supposed to be, he wasn't interested enough to pay attention when it was explained to him. He's got a new suit, even, and being here wearing it feels like he's been shoved into a bad play where he doesn't know his lines or what his cues are. Isiah standing beside him is the only thing that makes it even slightly bearable.

"That's the Lord Humphrey, over there, with who appears to be the mistress of the night. His wife never comes to these things, apparently far too busy with their children but everyone knows she's somewhere with a bit on the side of her own."

"And my cousin, apparently."

Nothing about the figure that walks through the doors, hair wet from the downpour outside but otherwise perfectly put together, is particularly impressive. Until now, Duke's never met any of the more distant parts of his newly found family, but he's heard enough to know that the relationship between his father and his cousin is frosty at best. He leans back against the bar, unconcerned with the once-over the man gives him, watching him shake the rain off the umbrella as best as he can. Everything, from the expensive lines of his suit to the ring on his finger to his wife standing beside him, is flashy and ostentatious and so very, very desperate for attention. Not unlike everyone else in the room pretending they're here for anything other than to make them seem like they give a fuck.

"God, who let him out of the house with that thing on his face? As if the wife didn't have bad enough taste already," he says, then has to reach across and hit Isiah on the back when he forgets that he'd just taken a drink and inhales it on a laugh, coughing at the burn when it goes down the wrong pipe.

"Fuck you, you did that on purpose."

"Prove it."

Before Isiah can say anything, still coughing, Michael and his wife stop at the bar next to them, painfully obvious in their charade of pretending ending up there wasn't their goal this whole time. Michael turns to him like he hadn't noticed and smiles, and Duke has to give him some credit, it barely falters when he notices Duke already looking right at him, eyes like ice.

"You must be Duke."

"I am. Who are you?"

He doesn't know which is more amusing, the way Michael's face seems to close off at the very obvious brush-off or the way his wife draws herself up a little higher like she can use her notorious family name to intimidate him in the same way that, he has no doubt, has made lesser men crumble. It's hard to choose, they're both contenders for the top spot.

"Right, you're the cousin that had more ambition than brains, yeah? I remember you mentioning that," he says to Isiah, who takes the cigarette Duke hands him, laughing a little to himself, "and the little American girl that thinks she can have anything she wants if she snaps her fingers and cries to Uncle about it enough. Am I right?"

"Sounds about right to me, love."

"I thought so. What do you want?"

He knows, even before Michael opens his mouth, that he's going to make some sort of case for Duke to work with him, and shares a look with Isiah that couldn't more clearly say 'These two really have no idea what they're doing' if he shouted it from the rooftops. Interrupting the speech is tempting, but he smokes the cigarette and listens to the pitch, nodding and making inquiring noises in all the right places, only just managing to hide how much he's enjoying this. He only notices that Michael's stopped talking when Isiah nudges him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Right, so what I'm hearing is you had big plans of taking over Shelby Limited but you had no idea how you were supposed to do that, so you've got to find other people to do the work for you because you haven't got the first clue, am I right?"

"That's not-"

Duke holds a hand up, cutting the woman off mid-sentence, and the glare she gives him is adorable, really, she can't possibly think it looks like anything other than a little girl angry because someone took her dolls. People around them give them strange looks, picking up on the tense energy most likely, and Duke switches tactics abruptly.

"May I have this dance, Mrs Gray?"

He knows the only reason she agrees, after a hesitation, is because she thinks she can persuade him over to their side of things more easily if she's so close. It takes everything in him not to shiver when she takes his hand, or to tighten his grip until the bones snap like dry twigs in summer. Isiah watches them, amused, as they walk away, and settles in to watch the show that he knows is coming.

"We're going to be in town for a week, if you need to get into contact with us, regarding our offer."

"I don't need the week. I'm going to have to say no," he says, moving her smoothly around the floor. It's been a while since he's danced, nothing more than a slow rotation of the room because that's all he's ever been bothered to learn, but it comes back to him quickly. "Even if I felt the need, I don't ally myself with children pretending they know how to swim in waters they're not ready for."

He does tighten his grip, then, when he feels her about to pull away, keeping her close. At least she's better at keeping her emotions off her face than her husband because, aside from the way he can feel her heartbeat speeding up underneath the hand on her waist, she doesn't outwardly react.

"This is a one time deal, Duke. You'd be smart to consider it before you make a mistake."

"No, Ms. Nelson," he deliberately emphasizes the last name, not bothering to hide how he feels about her habit of throwing her family name around like it's a key to get her whatever she wants, "You'd be smart to realise that you're out of your depth here and reconsider before you make a mistake."

"Excuse me?"

Over her shoulder he sees Isiah watching them carefully, only just barely aware that Michael's talking to him, then his father talking to someone he doesn't recognise, and, finally, he sees the last four of the people on his list, though they don't know it yet.

"When you make it back to your husband, tell him that just because he failed doesn't mean everyone will. Tell him to keep his eyes open and see what it looks like when people who know what they're doing do what he never could and never will." Duke finishes the dance, more of a circuitous rotation of the room really, not far from where it began, and thanks Gina for the opportunity before he walks back to Isiah, not looking back at her though he can feel her eyes on his back, considering and confused.

"Have a good time?"

"Surprisingly not bad to actually lead a dance for once."

"I keep telling you, it's only because you're shorter than me."

Isiah holds out a glass of water to him, and he doesn't say thank you but hopes that the smile gets the message across, the coolness of the ice a welcome relief after how hot it felt in the middle of the crowd of dancing couples. It's not often that he feels the urge to display the way he feels about the other man in public, but when he looks up and sees Isiah looking down at him, he wishes he could press closer and drag him down by the tie without one or both of them ending up dead by morning. He stops himself, barely, and settles for hooking his little finger around Isiah's, hidden between them. It's not as satisfying but it's enough, for now.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her the truth: That we were going to do what they never could. We're going to do it without anyone knowing it was us."

"What happens then?"

"Whatever the fuck we want. Who's going to stop us?"

Isiah grins at him, and it shouldn't make him feel like there's a cage of butterflies in his stomach but it does, not that he'd ever admit it. "That works out for me, because I've already got everything I want right here."

"I hate you,” He says, but they both know he means the exact opposite.

"Come on, let's go home, I've had enough of this."

It doesn't escape Duke's notice that he never really had a home until Isiah led him back to his apartment, all those weeks ago.

[primoredial-jade]

if you’re still accepting requests for your event hb,,,childe + groceries hehe ily jade congrats on your milestone you deserve the world 💓

send me a genshin character + a noun and i'll write a little blurb! [200 follower special <3]

ever since ajax was sent on fatui missions far away from home, basic human needs had practically been thrown out the window.

he was a warrior, an adventurer at heart. there was never an opportunity to settle down and relax. he was always on the move, cooking meals with whatever he could salvage from the wilderness. he wasn’t picky.

ajax was rarely stationed at one spot for too long, but liyue was an exception. the hunt for the gnosis had taken far longer than the tsaritsa had predicted, and soon enough, spending his nights in his office at the bank was not doing anything for his physical or mental wellbeing.

liyue was known for its delicious traditional dishes, and ajax found himself acclimating to their tastes easily every time he chose to ate out- which was all the time, now that he wasn’t always on the move. it was convenient, and he didn’t have the time these days to buy ingredients and make a meal in his busy schedule.

it was only when he finally used some expenses to actually get a room at a nearby inn that he began to miss snezhnayan dishes. in particular, his mom’s cooking.

ajax would admit to this in a letter home. it was a rare moment of vulnerability that he didn’t prefer to show to his family, but after a particularly long day on the clock, he had felt especially homesick.

he could only shiver with slight fear from the reply of the one person that could easily take him down with just a stare. 

i did not spend all these years birthing and raising my own flesh and blood for him to be so careless and irresponsible. the letter read.

you know how to cook, ajax. do not think i forgot all those nights you sat to watch mama cook. now get to the store and make the snezhnayan stew even i would be proud of. i love you.

-mama

and so, with a burst of confidence and vigor, ajax sucked a deep breath through his nose before braving the morning ingredient stalls of liyue harbor.

while ajax wasn’t one to shy away from his position in the fatui, he admittedly felt out of place amongst the crowd of older men and women picking out food for dinner that night. his bright auburn hair and monochrome colored clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb, and while he typically loved the attention, this attire was unsuitable for mundanity. 

still, his mom’s words echoed loudly in his head. he would make a stew that she would be proud of, no doubt about it. 

and so, with confident gait, he made his way to the first vegetable stall, seeking out calla lilies and mint. thankfully, the man didn’t make hassle and sold it to him for a fair price, kindly bagging it up for ajax.

the seafood stall didn’t go as easily. the octopus and fish looked of high quality, no doubt. but, even ajax could tell these prices were marked up abysmally. usually, he wouldn’t fight over it much- he had the means to pay it, after all. but, his mom’s words rang through his mind again. she would never agree to pay for prices like this back home.

side-eyeing the couple behind the stand, ajax squinted his eyes. “i don’t think these prices are fair.”

ajax would get the seafood at a reasonable price after a few minutes of accusation eased into bargaining. mama taught him well, after all. but... the couple probably wouldn’t be happy to see him again in the future.

with bags of seafood and vegetables in tow, ajax was satisfied with his grocery shopping for the week, at the very least. now, all that was left was to remember his mom’s all-famous recipe off the top of his head.

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Boss Vol 2: Loo Loo Land

Striker awoke with a start, panting heavily. His heart pounded so fast that he thought it would burst out of his chest at any moment now. The imp sighed as he ran a hand through his ash white hair.

He had that nightmare again. He didn't cry, as he had no more tears to shed and it wouldn't being her back but the wound was still raw. He'd tell himself that he did what she asked of him: to save their son. However, the guilt was still there.

Striker went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he looked through the window, he noticed it was raining. There were no thunders tonight but still, he better go check on Jake just in case.

Something pulled on his pants. Speak of the devil! Striker looked down and found the infant next to his leg, his little hand grasping his pants. How Jake managed to crawl all the way down from his nursery was a mystery to Striker.

"What's up, kiddo?" Striker asked, not really expecting an answer. Jake reached out his hands, asking to be picked up. Sighing, he bent down to pick up his son. " Can't sleep either, huh? That makes two of us, my boy," he said gently as he walked up the stairs. "How about we keep each other company for a while? It'll be less lonely that way."

Striker sat on his bed and placed Jake on his lap. He entertained the little one with the rattling of his tail for a while until Jake lost interest and snuggled into his father's chest, yawning. Striker knew what the little one needed. Jake protested via whimpers as he was tucked back into his nearly started to wail if not for the familiar sound of a guitar's strings and his father's voice as the cradle was rocked from side to side.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

For one so small

You seem so strong

My arms will hold you

Keep you safe and warm

This bond between us

Can't be broken

I will be here don't you cry

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forevermore

You'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be here in my heart

Always

Always…

Jake had long been lulled into sleep by the end of the song. Smiling, Striker kissed the little one's forehead.

"Good night."

*HB*

"M and M, J and S, get in here! We're going to Loo Loo Land!"

Striker frowned under his hat, annoyed at having his nap interrupted. "Isn't that the rip-off of Lucifer's far more popular LuLu World?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right, Strike! Stolas is paying us extra cash for making sure he and his daughter are still breathing by the end of the day."

Striker covered his face with his hat again. "Sorry, Blitz, my contract only includes assassination jobs."

"Look at it this way: you're going to 'assassinate' whoever tries to lay a hand on Stolas and his daughter."

The cowboy frowned. "Why us? Doesn't that blueblood have a whole legion of guards at his disposal?"

"Come on, dad! I want to go to Loo Loo Land!" Jake pleaded, taking his father's hat. "I've never been to a theme park!"

"Yeah, Strike, it'll be fun!" Millie wrapped an arm around the cowboy's shoulder. "You won't find a cheaper theme park in all of Hell, plus it's a good opportunity for you and Jake to spend some quality time together!"

Striker would have protested further, but Jake (and Blitzo) were giving him the 'puppy eyes' face. At last, he murmured. "Ugh. Fine."

They picked up the owl Goetias in I.M.P.'s van and went straight to the theme park in the Greed ring. As always, Striker and Jake rode Bombproof to avoid an overcrowding inside the vehicle, especially with two bluebloods inside.

Striker'd seen a few tv commercials about Loo Loo Land, but something he'd learned over the years is that no intentional rip-off of anything was worth wasting money on. He was soon proven right once they arrived at the place. Most of the attractions within Loo Loo Land were either broken, cracked, or disheveled-looking. And judging by the look on Octavia's face, she didn't like it here either. Jake, on the other hand…

"Cool! Look, dad, there's a carousel! Can we go? No, wait, I wanna try the roller coaster first! Whoa, is that a dragon? I must pet it!" the impling was running around the place, awing over the rides and booths with wide eyes.

"Blitz better add another zero to my next paycheck." Striker murmured under his breath.

"Woow! I haven't been to this place since I was a tot! It hasn't changed a bit- oh, LOOK!" Millie pulled Moxxie and Jake into a hug and gestured to an old dinosaur-like animatronic. "It's Big Woobly!"

"That is… deeply upsetting," Moxxie whispered.

"Oh, come on! It's fun! You've never been here?"

"No, theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots."

"I agree with Moxxie." Millie, Jake, and Moxxie himself gave Striker a baffled look. "As incredible as it sounds."

"Well, hey there!" Striker was caught off guard as Moxxie suddenly jumped into his arms with a frightened yelp as a guy in an old cartoonish apple costume appeared out of nowhere. The only reason he didn't drop Moxxie was that he too was disturbed by the awful, smelly costume. "I'm Loo Loo! Welcome to Loo Loo Land! If ya'll get hurt, just try and sue us!"

Striker quickly wrapped his tail around Jake's waist and lifted him up before he could get too close to 'Loo Loo'.

"Hey, dad, let go!" the impling protested.

"Stay away from that predator, kiddo." Striker finally dropped Moxxie to the ground.

"I have a question."

"Well, ask away, little girlie!" the mascot made a poor attempt at goofy laughter.

Octavia sneered. "Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off or Lucifer's far more popular Lu Lu World? This place reeks of insecure corporate shame."

Striker held tightly unto Jake until they left the creepy mascot behind. Being new to this place, he decided to follow Millie and Moxxie around for a while.

"You really love this place, huh?" Moxxie asked casually.

Millie nodded eagerly. "I love this place! My parents would bring me and my siblings here when they could swing it. Money-wise."

"Dad, look!" Jake ran towards a gift shop and pressed his face against the window, eyeing a plush dragon like the one on the Petting Zoo. "Can I have one?"

Striker only had to look at the price, 400 souls, to reply. "Absolutely not."

"Whyy?"

"400 souls for a doll you'll end up throwing away? Don't you wanna throw away all of my salary, since you're on it?"

Jake pouted, arms crossed. "Meanie."

"He does have a point. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?" Moxxie added, pointing at said cup worth 29 souls.

"Cause it's Loo Loo Land!" Millie chirped.

"Listen to your hoe, Mox." Blitzo seemingly had no trouble with loading up on the theme park's merch. "Hey, Strike, how 'bout you and I take the first watch while M and M have a little fun with Jakey?"

"Can I, dad? Please, please, please!"

Striker sighed. "Fine. Just stay close to Millie and Moxxie and listen to whatever they tell-"

"Um, Striker, I have to interrupt your fatherly monologue, but they already left." Blitzo was right. Millie, Moxie, and Jake were gone already.

Striker merely sighed and loaded his rifle.

*HB*

Jake still couldn't understand why his father had never brought him to Loo Loo Land before. This place was incredible! The rides, the junk food, kicking the guy in the Loo Loo costume; for some reason, he couldn't resist the urge every time he saw the apple costume. And of course, Moxie simply had to ruin everything. His wimpy stomach couldn't handle The Lawsuit ride and he ended up vomiting unto the people in the front car, Jake included. They had to get him new clothes in the nearest gift shop.

"You're so lucky my dad wasn't here or he would have fed you to that," Jake pointed at the dragon peeking over the Petting zoo fence.

"Okay, guys, how about we take a look around the smaller rides?" Millie suggested.

"You mean the kids area? That's where the Petting Zoo is! Can we go there to see the dragon?"

"I don't care as long as I don't have to get on top of it," Moxxie murmured, his hand still clutching his stomach. Jake squealed happily.

There were lots of animals at the Petting Zoo. Jake recognized some from Wrath, most notably some Hellhorses with green fire to reflect Greed. He had seen how Bombproof's fire color change from orange to red each time they entered Pride, and it had changed to a minty green when they entered Greed. There were other animals he had only seen in books too, but his attention was entirely focused on the giant red, black and white wyvern. Known as Hellvern, it is native to Greed and is often used as a 'guardian dog' of sorts by Overlords.

Jake felt a shiver down his spine as the giant dragon stared down at him curiously. Taking a deep breath, he stroked the animal's snout. Once he realized his hand was attached to his body, Jake began to laugh and jump.

"I touched the dragon, I touched the dragon!" he cried out happily. "Just wait until I tell dad!"

"Oh, I bet he'll be very proud of you!" Millie smirked, ruffling the impling's hair. "

Afterward, they took a break from the rides and wandered around the snack and game booths. Jake and Millie ate big cones of ice cream bugs and fried butter sticks. Moxxie chose not to consume any 'junk food of questionable origin'.

"This place is amazing! Man, I wish I'd come here sooner!" Jake said happily as he looked around the game booths.

"So Striker has never brought here? He would have loved the rides for sure!" Millie pointed out.

"Nah, dad's never been too fond of machines. He'd rather do things the old-fashioned way."

Moxxie scoffed. "Yeah, why would he come to work on a horse otherwise?"

"Well, at least we don't waste time on looking for a parking spot."

"Touché, kid."

"Hey, now that we're on it, I don't think we've ever met your mom."

Jake stopped in his tracks. His… mom? It's the first time someone's brought that up. Dad has never talked about her and there are no photos of her in the house. But surely he had one, right? Everyone has one.

"Hello, hello! Step right up and win a thing!"

Millie's excited cry distracted Jake from his thoughts. "Oh, look, Moxxie! A thing!" The 'thing' in question was a purple stuffed penguin-like creature with imp horns and pink overalls.

"Oh, you like that thing?"

"Yesss! I don't really know what that thing is but I want that thing!"

Moxxie smirked. "Finally, something I can handle." he placed a soul bill on the counter. "Okay! One game, please!"

Unsurprisingly, the cork but the target. To Jake's surprise, however, the target barely moved. Moxxie didn't seem to mind since he had hit the bullseye.

"Strike one, little man!"

Moxie's smugness faded instantly. "But I hit it!"

"Hmm, I don't know what to tell ya, buddy. The target, see?" the vendor pointed at said target "It didn't go down, so yeah, no go, bro."

Growling, Moxie placed another bill on the counter and fired another cork at the bullseye, but again it didn't move. Annoyed, Moxxie slapped the pistol. "The Heaven's wrong with this thing?!"

"Oh. Man, a real shame, I tell ya." the carnie made crying gestures in a mocking manner, prompting Moxxie to slam yet another bill on the counter.

*HB*

As incredible as it may sound, Striker envied his son. Jake was probably having a great time at the admittedly cool-looking rides while he is stuck babysitting a blueblood. He couldn't say he was completely bored, though. Turns out the pervert was right when he said there'd be lots of people going after him. Striker even ended up making a bet with Blitzo over who could shoot more people by the end of the day. Up to now, Striker was winning.

The cowboy casually spotted Octavia, who by then looked like she'd snap at any second now. He couldn't blame her, the show's musical number was rather bizarre.

"How come that pervert hasn't noticed his daughter is not enjoying himself at all?" he asked Blitzo casually.

"Not our business, Strike. We're their bodyguards, not their family therapists. Speaking of which," Blitzo shot an assassin in the back before he could stab Stolas. Blitzo smirked. "That makes it four on my count, Striker."

"Let's save that for later, Blitz. Looks like the mare's finally kicked." Striker motioned to Octavia as she fled the tent, Stolas following closely behind.

"You should find Jakey. It's Millie and Moxxie's watch, anyway, they can go keep an eye on Stolas."

Striker nodded gratefully and left the circus tent. Surprisingly, it didn't take him too long to find Jake, Moxxie, and Millie. They were at a shooting game booth. Judging by the enraged look in Moxxie's face and the 600 souls in the vendor's hands, the wimp just got scammed.

"Hey, dad! You won't believe what I did, I petted a dragon!"

Striker chuckled and petted the boy's head. "I'm glad you had a great time, kiddo."

"Hey, you, cowboy! You look like ye might be better at shooting this sad little fella."

Striker frowned. He knew from experience that these booths were rigged to scam customers out of their money at the vendor's leisure. He had a better idea. Smirking, Striker pulled out his pistol and handed it to Jake.

"Show them what you got, kiddo."

The impling's face lit up. He pointed the barrel of the weapon at the carnie to give him a fright before shooting all of the targets with flawless precision in quick succession. The bullets went right through the targets, leaving big holes. The carne was reduced to a trembling, frightened mess.

"H-Hey, take it easy, p-pal…" he stuttered nervously as Jake pointed the gun at him again.

"That's my boy!" Striker laughed, patting Jake's shoulder.

"Now I think," Moxxie sneered as he leaned unto the counter. "That you owe us a thing."

Something crashed through the roof of the shooting gallery and on top of the carnie. The group leaned in to take a look.

"Sir?" Moxxie asked.

Striker sighed once he turned around and found the theme park literally on fire. "Really, Blitz? I leave you alone for a second and you screw the damn place up?"

"Oh, hey guys!" Blitzo seemingly didn't hear him as he drew his pistol. "You should probably go, uh, make sure Stolas is okay. I got some… unfinished business to take care of."

The group dispersed, with Millie quickly grabbing her plush thing. Strike quickly picked Jake up and moved out of the way as Blitzo fired at the burning robot; the thing caught the bullet in its mouth and curled up to roll towards Blitzo in a fiery charge. Blitzo jumped out of the way just as the robot hit the booth and it exploded in an inferno of green flames.

"Um, Dad, should we lend Blitzo a hand?"

"I suppose so lest he ends up blowing the whole place up with us inside."

Jake smirked as he spotted the dragon from before on the loose. "I got an idea!"

Striker knew what the boy was thinking. He wasn't sure if it was such a good idea, though; he's dealt with wild hogs, hellhorses, and many fauna, but never a fully-grown Hellvern. Then again, he's always liked challenges. He had Jake climbed onto his back and cling to his neck.

"Hang on tight, my boy, this will be one hell of a ride!"

Grabbing a discarded rope and tying it into a lasso, Striker expertly threw it over the dragon's neck and pulled, tightening around its neck. When the animal reared back and spread its wings, Striker took advantage of the momentum to pull himself onto the Hellvern's back.

"Easy, there! I'm your new master now!" the cowboy shouted over the Hellvern's angry shrieks, pulling the ropes tightly in the manner of reins. It wasn't that hard, as the Hellvern had already been tamed. Otherwise, it was like riding a giant version of Bombproof.

"Woohoo! Can we keep the Hellvern, dad?!"

"I already got enough with a Hellhorse, kiddo!"

Striker led the animal through the green inferno, eyeing the crazy robot going after Blitzo. Millie and Moxxie were shooting it, but it was far too fast for bullets. Striker couldn't contain an excited 'yeehaw' cry as he whipped the Hellvern forward and it snatched Robo Fizz right before it could run Blitzo over; the animal threw Robo Fizz into the air before eating it whole.

"Got a new mount, Striker?! Can I keep Bombproof?!"

"In your dreams, Blitz!"

They barely made it out of Loo Loo Land before it was consumed by flames, then made a run for it before anyone could identify them as the people who destroyed the place. Mammon would look for heads to roll before the day's end, after all.

*HB*

"Best… Day… Ever…" Jake laughed in-between exhausted pants as they got home that night.

Striker fell on top of the couch, groaning in exhaustion. "We're taking the rest of the week off, kiddo. If Blitz calls, tell him Bombproof has a cold or something like that, but I'm not moving from this couch."

Jake joined his father and snuggled against him. "Thanks for taking me to Loo Loo Land, daddy."

"I'd say 'anytime' if the park hadn't been reduced to ashes." Striker chuckled, eyes closed as he wrapped an arm around his son.

As Jake snuggled into his father's arm, he thought about what Millie had said back at Loo Loo Land about.. "Hey, dad?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you something? "

"What?"

"Well…" Jake took a deep breath. "Do I have a mom? I mean, Millie has one, Moxie too, Blitzo… Even Stolas's daughter has a mom. I've never seen any pictures and you've never told me about her…"

Jake trailed off as he heard snoring. Dad had already fallen asleep. He must be really exhausted, Jake thought. I can ask him some other time. I'll let him rest for now.

…

Striker didn't open his eyes until he was certain that Jake had fallen asleep; then he carefully cradled his son in his arms and carried him upstairs all the way to his room. He carefully tucked Jake in as quietly as possible; Jake shifted a bit, but otherwise didn't look like he'd wake up anytime soon. Striker smiled as he stroked his son's hair.

It's not that he didn't want Jake to know about his mother. He wanted to tell his son about the wild-spirited, strong-willed woman that stole his heart. He really did. But he just couldn't find the words to explain what had happened to her. Just even remembering her was like adding lemon and salt to an open wound. Striker would tell Jake about his mother eventually, just not now.

The cowboy carefully placed the stuffed dragon he had grabbed from the shooting gallery in Jake's grasp, carefully leaning in to kiss the boy's head.

"Good night."

*HB*

Well, seems there's been a hint about Jake's mother. What do you think happened to her? I might go into details later on.

[luki-fanfic]

Helluva Boss 5: The Harvest Moon Festival

Huh, Helluva Boss usually drops by mid month. Wonder why this episode is taking so long to put toget-

*Episode airs*

0_0

Oh. That’s why.

I’ll admit it, my interest in HB was waning. Episode 3 and 4 honestly didn’t do much to keep me interested. Spring Broken had a lot of plot and writing issues, and I felt the concept could have been better executed. C.H.E.R.U.B was more solid, but did have some issues, and just wasn’t that fun to watch.

Harvest Moon on the other hand? Oh boy, now there’s an episode. I am, if you’ll pardon the pun, back on this horse. World building, the action scenes, incredible animation, relationship development of the bad kind, more worlds, interesting characters! It gives us so much to work with.

Spoilers abound, so read carefully.

That said, I will start this with my biggest complaint – and it’s one I’ve had for several episodes, but this one really rammed it home due to the ‘sneak peak’ clip we had of the opening. In the black and white boards, the swearing was limited, and honestly the writing was pretty witty. Then we got the finished product – certain lines were missing, and several words had been replaced with random swearing. Considering what the scene was, it felt like the finished product was a step down – I really wish the scriptwriters would realise random swearing isn’t always funny, and they’ve given proof that their writing is snappy as is.

Anyway...onto the actual episode. We learn that I.M.P seems to be building up their business as Blitzø has 15 clients looking for a kill. Considering he had to do a sale to get a multiple kill, and the other episodes show him basically going out straight after getting the job, they’re clearly building up a name for themselves.

This is further shown with the arrival of Striker, who compliments his decision to go into business for himself, since most Imps don’t. This is new information, since we’ve seen Wally attempt to start his own business – although clearly it wasn’t going well – but if Striker is to be believed, most companies in Hell, even Imp City, don’t have Imps as the owners. Maybe it’s a financial capital thing, maybe it’s partially Hell’s racism, or maybe Imps just generally prefer to follow, which Striker seems to allude later. It’s hard to say with the information we’ve got at this point, but it does put I.M.P in a slightly different light – and probably explains why Blitzø is fairly incompetent when it comes to running the whole thing. He has literally no one to ask or use as an example, and the society he lives in generally assumes he’s going to fail by the nature of him being an Imp.

In fact, even though Blitzø owns I.M.P, he is still completely dependent on Stolas and his Grimoire. Without it, I.M.P is screwed – the reason they’re even at the Harvest Festival is because they can’t work. And that’s what Striker tells him in the final act. Their society has made sure that he can never truly be successful on his own merit, no matter how hard he tries.

I’ve seen some debate on whether what Striker told Blitzø was true or just an attempt to let his guard down. It’s hard to say, because Striker says and does some very conflicting things, but I’m going to believe it was genuine. Why?

He lets Millie and Moxxie live to have leverage over him. He does insult Blitzø to their faces, but why would he need leverage once his job was done?

When Moxxie learns the truth, he doesn’t even try to talk him round, just kill him. Millie is also tossed to the side – possibly because neither of them are ‘superior.' Blitzø gets a full on speech about their superiority and how much he respects him, even if he’s hiding a knife in his tail for if he can’t talk him round.

When he has Blitzø on the ground at his mercy, he doesn’t mock him. Instead, he tells him he genuinely thought they’d be a good team. He had the advantage, but doesn’t take the chance to continue the insult.

Like most Imps, Striker seems to dislike the demon royalty, but at the end of the day, is also working for one (and can I say that twist was brilliantly well done? It made SO much sense but I honestly didn’t see it coming). What is his end goal? Is he envious that Blitzø has some kind of power of Stolas while he has to be obedient? Is he aiming to kill Stella once Stolas is down? Maybe opening an assassination business to take out anything Overlord and above? We just don’t know.

And with that, we’ll step off this train of thought to speak about something else very important in this episode. Stolas. Specifically his relationship with Blitzø, and precisely how wrong it is.

I admit it, I future-shipped them, especially thanks to the Instagram (which become a bit of a bait and switch when the insta-accounts were declared ‘non-canon’). I acknowledged that the relationship was problematic and needed some serious work on both sides before it could really be a functioning relationship, but this episode hammered home exactly how much needs to happen in a way the other episodes didn’t. The pilot and Murder Family treated Stolas as a gag, and then Loo Loo Land made us all care about him and his actions. But Harvest Moon showed the other side of it, and I'm not sure the ship can realistically recover.

Stolas considers Imps as inferior, to a ridiculous degree, and Blitzø is no exception. He has absolutely no respect for Blitzø, and holds all the power in the relationship. We saw this a little in the previous episodes, but they were either alone, or Blitzø was working for him, and surrounded by people aware of the relationship. His actions could be somewhat explained away.

In Harvest Moon, Stolas proves he treats Blitzø this way even in public. Blitzø has very obvious issues regarding his name, so Stolas persistently using a nickname and treating him the way he does around people who aren’t aware, says a lot about how much Stolas doesn’t care about Blitzø’s opinions. Even if Blitzø does have some feelings for him – which I do suspect due to his panicked attempt to explain it as transactional. If he didn’t care, he would probably find it easier to explain. At the same time though, he’d be happier if he could get the book without the monthly visits, because what he has with Stolas isn’t a relationship, no matter what Stolas tries to pretend. Any feelings Blitzø develops puts him even further under his control.

Part of me wonders if the relationship evolved between the pilot and the first episode in planning, and that’s why we have such a disconnect between the Insta relationship and the canon one. I’m really hoping the series addresses it in the future.

Finally, lets talk about that final reveal. Stella has hired a hitman to kill Stolas – even armed him with two angel-tech guns.

(Which, also finally gives us confirmation that Imps/Hellhounds/Succubi can die from conventional weapons, but the higher ranked native demons need angel weaponry to off them).

Stella is also confident enough to scream it over the dinner table. Stolas either doesn’t care, or isn’t paying attention – if he doesn’t care, if definitely puts his motives regarding the original invite up in the air, but if he isn’t paying attention? Then it’s another point in the anti-Stolas tab.

That said, this scenario does ask a question. Why don’t these two divorce? Stolas is clearly not in love any more, and living together clearly isn’t doing Octavia’s mental health any favours if she’s literally hiding behind her music rather than interact with her parents. He should be the first to offer a divorce, but he hasn’t brought it up. And if he hasn’t, maybe the reason Stella hasn’t is because they can’t?

It’s generally assumed that the two of them have an arranged marriage, and that Stella’s anger at his relationship with Blitzø is due to his status more than the cheating. But then wouldn’t it make more sense to hire a hitman to kill Blitzø rather than Stolas? Choosing to kill Stolas, even if it would hurt Octavia, suggests it’s the only option left to her.

I’m guessing we’ll (finally) get some Stella development next time Striker appears, and get an idea of what makes her tick. But for now, I suspect the two of them regularly had lovers on the side, but kept it discreet until this point. Stolas refusing to keep his relationship with Blitzø quiet is causing untold damage to their name and status. Stella wants rid of a man who not only doesn’t love her (if he ever did), but is constantly humiliating her for not hiding his much lower class lover (which we know by this episode he doesn’t even attempt), and since the rules of Hell for demons of their status doesn’t allow divorce (or perhaps their arrangement doesn’t), assassination it is.

Hell, maybe the plan was to kill Stolas, and frame Blitzø for it. Striker clearly knew about their relationship before they met (which should have been a red flag now that I thing about it), so Stella probably mentioned him. It would also put the recruiting on another level, if Striker actually did get Blitzø involved at the final moment and teamed up.

Oh, and as a final amendment? If that angel-gun that Striker left behind is not now in the hands of I.M.P and becomes a key piece when Asmodeus, Mammon and the real Fizzarolli show up? I will be very disappointed.

[honeyhan-123]

The Artist ~ I

Summary: When Steve meets the reader at an art class he immediately becomes enticed and maybe, just maybe, she can help heal his wounded heart.

Warnings: None for this chapter but smut will be present in later chapters

Pairings: Steve x reader, Steve x Bucky

AN: I meant to post this tomorrow but I realised today was Chris Evans’ birthday as well as @jtargaryen18​ who inspired me to start writing so I decided to post it early in celebration. This is also the first chapter of my entry to @that-damn-girl​ pride writing challenge. I would like to say a massive thank you to @imanuglywombat​ for the absolutely stunning moodboard and @magdaleneruth​ for being an awesome beta! 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

He couldn’t believe it. 

Even watching the flyer hang from the board on the wall with his own two eyes, Steve could barely remember the conversation with Nat that led to this moment as he was sat on a bench outside a classroom for the first time in eighty years. 

He hadn’t drawn seriously in decades, probably since before the Battle of New York. The rest had just been little doodles, here and there. Nothing really came from it. But here he was  standing in the doorway of a studio, ready for a life drawing class. 

Steve couldn’t understand the nerves racking his body—he was Captain America for crying out loud, he’s been in far worse situations than attending an art class. 

Why on earth couldn’t he bring himself to walk through a silly little doorway? He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft delicate voice. 

‘Excuse me...’ He was pulled from his thoughts by a voice, soft and delicate. His head snapped to the left, his jaw drifting slightly ajar as he took you in. ‘Are you headed inside?’ You were dressed casually, a warm jacket over what was clearly a man’s button down shirt and your jeans had little doodles on the rough denim canvass. Little splats of paint here and there coated the entire look.  Steve didn’t know quite why, but he was immediately enticed. 

‘I - uh, yeah. I am, sorry I’m in your way.’ He hastily moved out of the doorway, gesturing for you to enter first but you didn’t make a move as your eyes clearly sized him up and he was thankful he had pulled the dark blue baseball cap low over his brow. It wasn’t much in terms of a disguise but that paired with the thick beard that coated his jaw made it harder for the average person to recognise him.

‘Is this your first drawing class?’ You framed it as a question, but it was clear you already knew the answer.

He nodded a little sheepishly. ‘How could you tell?’

‘You just seem a little nervous. Don’t worry, though. It’s really not as scary as it might seem. I remember when I first signed up, I was terrified that someone would say I wasn’t good enough for the class. I could barely keep my hands steady. So, naturally, that turned out to be one of the worst drawings of my life but no one said a word. You have nothing to worry about - you don’t need to prove yourself here.’ 

‘Anytime, but if you are going to come in I suggest you do it sooner rather than later. Madame Maxine absolutely hates tardiness and it’s nearly seven.’ You gave him a small but genuine smile before you excused yourself, your hips swaying slightly as you walked through the doorway and over to an easel. 

He let out a sigh of relief when you’d left - it gave him some privacy to hype himself up and quiet the inner critic screaming his anxieties.Taking a steadying breath, he followed your footsteps and headed for an unclaimed easel towards the back as the rest of the class made idle chit chat, clearly all familiar with one another as they readied themselves for the lesson.

He rolled out his shoulders before sitting on the small stool, pulling his sketchbook and set of charcoal pencils from his satchel. It was a mixed media class and Steve watched in awe as some people set canvases up on their easels, their palets already covered with various colours of paint. 

He felt woefully underprepared with his worn leather bound sketchbook and collection of pencils, but it was how he had always drawn. His mother had barely been able to afford the splurge for real drawing pencils, nevermind paints or canvases. 

There was a portly man standing in the corner of the room stretching his muscles this way and that, and he figured this must be their model for the day. Most of the drawing Steve had done in the past few years had been of inanimate objects, it was much easier than asking one of his many busy friends to sit still for a few hours as he drew them. If he’d felt more in the mood for a portrait, he generally used photographs as a reference point, so having a real live model would be a nice change.

A few more minutes passed before an elderly woman entered the room. Her hair was grey and her curls frayed out in every direction from the messy bun she has tied it in. She wore a green and yellow bandana around her face keeping her hair away and a matching flowy dress with a dark blue half apron tied around her waist. Immediately, Steve knew this woman had to be Maxine. 

She clapped her hands together, drawing the class’s attention as she neared the front of the room. ‘Good evening, I am Maxine Winnefred and I will be your instructor over the next few weeks as we explore the human form. I recognise some of you from my Summer course focussed on the true form of still life in fruits and flowers, and I would just like to say it’s lovely to see you all again.’ She smiled as her eyes rested on those who must be the familiar faces. 

‘To the new faces in the room, there are a few things you should know about me.While I do understand everyone has lives outside of the art world, tardiness remains unacceptable as a hard and fast rule–especially where live models are concerned. Secondly, whether about your own piece or someone else’s, I will not stand for any negative thoughts. We are all here to learn and the only way you can truly achieve that is with a positive mindset. If you feel negatively about a particular piece of yours, you must think of it as a stepping stone. What did you do wrong? What can you improve on next time? The human form is incredibly complicated and it may take a while getting used to if you’re not familiar with it.’

‘Since you have all elected to pay for the entire course, if for some reason you are unable to make it to a session, I also run a Thursday night class. You must call me and let me know that you will be attending that class as I will need to make sure there are enough easels and stools. I will hand out my number at the end of class. Are there any questions?’ 

Although it had barely been five minutes, Steve could already tell he would enjoy this class, especially being under Maxine’s tutelage. She had a no nonsense air that was rare to find in the art world and despite this being a fairly casual, once a week type of get together, Steve knew she took her work seriously. She wanted all of her pupils to be their best. 

The room fell into silence as her eagle eye flickered around the sea of faces. When moments had passed in silence, she continued. 

‘This is Jerry,’ she held her arm out, becaning the man over. ‘He will be our first model. We will be drawing him for the first two weeks, once with clothes and once without, we will then move onto our next model and the same process will follow.’ Everyone nodded their heads in understanding but Steve felt his cheeks flush slightly. He had known that there would be nude models and he knew that it was all purely professional but still… the small kid from the forties never would have even thought about doing something like this. 

‘Right. Jerry,’ she clapped her hands again, eyes locked on just where her model would go in the scene. ‘If you could please get into position A, we can get started. To the class, we’ll have him sit for an hour and twenty minutes. Then another hour after that with a break in between. Somewhere in there we’ll have a vote on whether or not we would like to see a new pose or the same.’ Maxine checked the time as Jerry found his seating on the lone stool in the front of the room. Once he was in position, she prompted the class to begin.

Although he’d been wanting to avoid detection, Steve was deeply regretting choosing a seat so far from the front. On the surface level, his better than average eyesight would be acceptable - and yet, being the perfectionist that he was, he wanted to get up and close with Jerry. He wanted to be able to mark every tiny blemish on his skin, every line of sadness or laughter.

Steve sighed to himself before he picked up his HB pencil, getting to work on his main outline. He hadn’t been working long when he felt a presence at his shoulder, peering over at his work. He’d just finished the vague outline of Jerry’s clothes and the stool beneath him when she spoke. ‘Back in my day, it was considered rude to wear a hat indoors, Mr…?’

He had to at least try and hide his smile over her words, being at least forty years her senior. 

‘Just Steve.’ Quickly he swiped the cap from his head, placing it down in his satchel on the floor. ‘I’m sorry ma’am.’

‘That’s okay son, just don’t let it happen again.’ She gave him a small smile before setting off, perusing the pieces of the other artists and Steve got back to work. 

+

His neck ached from the awkward position it had been contorted to for the past ninety minutes. He could feel the muscles in his hand beginning their protest. It had been a long time since he’d drawn so intently and he wasn’t used to it quite yet.

He stood from his stool, stretching out his back as he did so, wandering over to the small table of refreshments after a few moments. He swiped a lemon biscuit from the tray, catching sight of you from his periphery. You were gesturing wildly as you chatted up an older fellow. Your face was the picture of sincerity and Steve couldn’t help but smile as he eavesdropped. 

‘One of these days you have to teach me your shading technique, Albert. The way you make a simple shadow have so much depth and colour is incredible,’ you gushed.

‘So long as you teach me how you do the detail work around the eyes. Whenever I try, they just come out looking blank!’ he shot back with a smile on his lips. 

‘It’s a deal.’ You held your hand jokingly Albert took it, shaking it vigorously as you chuckled. Feeling his eyes on you, your head quirked in Steve’s direction and you quickly excused yourself.

Steve tried to busy himself and pretend that he hadn’t been caught awkwardly staring at you but your footsteps were growing closer by the second.

‘So? How are you feeling, newbie? Not as daunting as you thought, huh?’ There was a small teasing smile playing along the corner of your lips and Steve couldn't help but laugh along with you. 

‘I really don’t know why I was so nervous, but what you said… Well, it really helped. So, thank you for that. I assume you took Maxine’s summer course?’ he asked, trying to make conversation.

‘Yeah, it was a fruit and flower class, plus I also took her winter human form class before that. I fell hard for portraits, so I just knew I had to take it again this year.’ Steve nodded in understanding, taking a class this way was the perfect opportunity to work on portraiture. ‘And what about yourself? I may have snuck a peek at your easel. You have an incredible eye from what I can tell. How did you capture such detail in only pencils?’

Steve felt his face heat as he took your compliment. ‘I’m honestly not quite sure, but I’ve had a lot of practice. Growing up, I was bedridden more often than not and my best friend used to come over and sit with me for hours. I probably know his face better than my own.’ He felt the familiar pang that echoed around his heart every time he thought of Bucky and those days that stretched into nights when all he would do was stare at the other man, trying to capture his beauty on the page. Steve forced himself to shake off the memories to try and keep his tone light. He hadn’t intended on saying something so personal but there was just something about you that made him want to let down his guard and that was dangerous. 

‘Really? You were bedridden?’ Your mouth gaped slightly and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes danced slightly down his body. ‘But you look so perfect now - I mean, uh. You look… You look very healthy.’

He smiled, trying not to laugh as dread coated your face. He’s reminded so much of the man he left behind all those years ago…the boy in the back of the car, driving through Brooklyn, although he had to admit, you were far cuter than he had ever been.

‘How long have you been painting for?’ Steve tried to brush the conversation away, he liked talking to you just as a fellow artist and he wasn’t ready for you to recognise him. ‘You’re very talented.’

‘Oh, it’s just sort of a hobby that I do in my spare time. I went to uni and got an Arts degree, but you know how it goes. It only gets you so far in the real world.’ 

‘If you’re not an artist, what do you do for a living?’

‘I’m a secretary at a law firm.’ He nodded trying to maintain control of his thoughts. Being a secretary wasn’t a filler job for a woman any more. Not like it had been in his day. ‘You?’

‘Oh…’ The question took him completely by surprise and his mind went blank. He needed to think fast. ‘I uh… I work for Stark Enterprises. I’m on his PR team.’ Steve tried to justify it in his mind as it wasn’t a complete lie he was a part of the PR team. Plus, he couldn’t have said he was a scientist or something. It would have been clear he was lying if you asked him any type of even remotely science question. 

‘Ah, maybe that’s why you look kind of familiar. Are you a part of his press conferences?’ 

Steve nodded, feeling his throat start to tighten. He wasn’t ready for this to end. Call him selfish but he didn’t want this to end. For someone to treat him as he was, rather than who he was. He hadn’t felt so at home with himself, with someone else, in a long time.

He was saved from further interrogation by the chime of a bell. The ten minute break was up. The group had already opted to keep Jerry in the same reclined pose, so he quickly found his position and the class returned to their sketching. 

While Steve tried to keep his eyes focussed on his drawing, he couldn’t help the constant flicker of his eyes over to where to sat, paintbrush in hand, looking like one of the Greek Muses. 

He only prayed you were one of the merciful ones. 

+

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Next Part

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

[chaifootsteps]

RE: https://www.tumblr.com/chaifootsteps/732776463261138944/i-really-dislike-the-fact-that-fans-have-to-do?source=share&ref=_tumblr

Def one of my biggest issues with HB from the beginning. Personally, I'm not someone who likes to be assigned "homework" for media (one of the reasons I dropped Star Wars was the amount of research I was told I had to do to enjoy any content outside of the OG trilogy). It's one thing to have extended lore that adds background detail and feeds the more hardcore fans, but none of that information should ever been REQUIRED READINGS for your series.

Mind you, I was on Twitter during S1, seeing the Viv explanation tweets, the instagrams, and all the other random factoids that managed to leak from the patreon. It STILL bugged me because I knew that if I wasn't catching all this crap on a totally separate website, I'd be pretty lost despite paying pretty close attention and rewatching the episodes multiple times.

Heck, back when I was a fan, I sought out reactors who were outside of the fanbase and the amount of times they were confused on basic things was genuinely embarrassing. Not embarrassing for them btw, but for Viv's writing. Just as an example: so many of them did not catch that Verosika was meant to be a Succubus since it's only really mentioned in a joke line "succubitches" and there isn't that much visual distinction between Imps and Succubi. So you just had a lot of people who were left wondering why she had magic powers when Blitzo and the Imps didn't. Oh, and god forbid you had no idea what the heck a Succubus even IS because HB just expects you to already know the basics of Xtian Demonology in order to put the pieces together.

So much of the series hinges on the idea of you as the viewer being super keyed into her social media and patreon. Then the hardcore fans blame YOU for misunderstanding or not knowing what's happening as if you failed some sort of fandom pop quiz by not studying hard enough. Gatekeeping at its finest and they wonder why there aren't a lot of new fans, especially since those old tweet threads are long since buried.

And more often than not, even if you've done all your homework meticulously every step of the way, it's still impossible to keep up with what the hell Vivzie's trying to convey. Her stans don't know either, but they'll pretend they know if it's the last thing they do.

[subasekabang]

Past Nova - Chapter 01

Title: Past Nova - Chapter 01

Rating: T

Word Count: 12,665 [Ch 01: 3976]

Pairings/Characters: Neku Sakuraba. Beat. Shiki Misaki. Rhyme. Sota Honjo. Nao. Joshua Kiryu. Sota/Nao. 

Warnings: Past Character Death mentions. 

Summary: Neku and his new friends find that they’ve been brought back to life, time wound back as if the three weeks had never happened. It’s something that they don’t have time to adjust to though, as Neku realises that Sota and Nao are still alive, with no guarantee that the two won’t end up back in the UG. Even without a timer on his hand, time is ticking down - but Neku isn’t going to let Sota and Nao disappear without a fight. Not again.

Partner: @licobleps & HB Kit

Author’s Note: Tadaa! I was having trouble coming up with what I wanted to write for the Bang but just before we had to submit the idea I remembered this old plot bunny and said ‘yes, this is it!’. I struggled to get this moving at first because I kept overthinking details but it was fun once I got going. A super huge thank you to Lico and Kit for choosing my fic to work with - look out for their artwork, I’m sure you’ll be just as impressed as I am!

“The stars are out tonight!”

Despite this proclamation, if one were to look up at the sky, they would not spot a single shining star. The lights that kept the city alight past sunset maintained disappointment for anyone with enough optimism to have a glimpse. Even if stars were visible in the city, they were a touch far from nighttime; the sun was barely past the horizon.

Nao, however, showed no signs of her spirit being dampened. On the contrary, she seemed invigorated, arms spread wide as if she was about to welcome falling stars into them.

He couldn’t see anything in the sky himself but if Nao saw something more up there, Sota sure as hell believed that they were really there.

Even as she stumbled slightly, stretched too far on her tiptoes, with Sota moving in to catch her by her shoulders, he was sure of this.

“You manage to catch one?”

“Like, I tried. But no.”

“I’m gonna get you one.”

She giggled - wondering aloud if they could really catch one.

“We will, promise.”

After all, they had all the time in the world to chase stars.

Didn’t they?

Chapter 01  - Urban Nebula

Ramen.

Just a while ago, Neku would have carried on eating this dish without a second thought. It was something that he could find anywhere, something he would consume unceremoniously. Yet here he was, finding himself genuinely appreciating how good this bowl of ramen was.

Nothing can beat a warm bowl of Shoyu.

“Yo, you’re trippin’. Tonkotsu’s where it’s at.” Beat said this in between messy slurps of his own.

Neku didn’t realise he said that out loud.

“I’m more of a Miso person myself,” said Shiki.

He also didn’t expect this to be where their conversation went.

“I actually prefer Miso too,” Rhyme piped up.

The volume in the small ramen shop increased twofold as Beat noisily argued why exactly Tonkotsu was the best of the best when it came to ramen. Shiki countered with reasonings of her very own, while Rhyme added her thoughts every few pauses.

It all seemed so trivial. So normal.

As if it hadn’t been a week since he had last seen them.

Though, he supposed Beat did tear up when Neku met him and Rhyme by Hachiko a few hours ago. So it wasn’t like he was the only one still reeling from the Game. Still, Beat bounced back pretty quick and once Shiki arrived, they were all just happy to be reunited.

Honestly, he welcomed this normalcy but at the same time, it was a new kind of normal for him.

Before this, he hadn’t had any friends to actually just sit down and eat together with. Not for a long time. During the Game, once he figured out that eating actually affected his performance in fighting against the Noise, he became pretty careful with what he picked and he was still a lot more…prickly than he was now. He was sure that during his first few days with Shiki, they spent the majority of their time while eating in silence. Well, she did make an attempt to make conversation though he admittedly brushed her off. With Joshua, as Shiki’s life was on the line, Neku didn’t want to waste his time with too much small talk. Beat inhaled his food, just as he was doing now, so they didn’t really stop to chat during meals either.

Now, however, they didn’t have to rush off anywhere. No timer burnt upon their skin to urge them onto their feet. They were just four friends eating ramen Shibuya. Who would’ve thought?

“Neku, I know your fave is Shoyu but give it to us straight - Miso or Tonkotsu?” Shiki nudged his arm to get his attention. She must have realised that he was spacing out.

“I think that - ” Uh oh, this looks serious. Both Shiki and Beat’s expressions said that victory hinged on his answer. Rhyme was looking between the two with concern, hand against her mouth as if to prevent herself from intervening. “I think that they’re both ‘okay’. Shoyu’s the best.”

Beat groaned while Shiki let out a cheer. “Rhyme agrees with me, so that makes the score for Miso, Tonkatsu and Shoyu to 2-1-1. I win!”

“What exactly do you win?” asked Neku.

“Hmm.” Shiki tapped her finger against her lips as she pondered the question. “Aha, I know! You guys can pay for my lunch.”

“‘That ain’t gonna work Shiki, I’m broke.”

Shiki peered at his sister instead, who begun to smile sheepishly.

“Neku?” Shiki looked at him expectantly.

“What? Hey, don’t look at me! Why should I get dragged into this?”

At that moment, the owner of the shop leaned over the counter and slid across his receipt. It had both his and Shiki’s orders on them. Wha - he can’t do that! Can he do that?

He opened his mouth to object when he spotted that Beat and Rhyme had their receipt, cash already on top of it and passing it back to the owner. When did that happen? Neku suspected the ramen owner had been listening to their conversation and had picked a side.

“Okay, okay, I get it Mr. Doi, I’ll pay.” He sighed, forking over his cash.

“Oho? So you’ve heard of me, young man?” He crossed his arms and nodded triumphantly. “As I thought, I’ve still got it in me to reach young folks like you too. Always appreciate getting new customers who follow the news of good ramen. You kids enjoy the rest of those bowls! Don’t take too long, though!” He gave a hearty laugh before rushing off to serve another customer.

Just like that the steam that wafted throughout the restaurant suddenly seemed to contain more heat, the smell becoming sharper to Neku’s senses. He pulled at his collar, feeling the stuffiness start to overwhelm him.

“He doesn’t remember us, huh?” Shiki said quietly, voicing what all of them were probably thinking.

Guess we’re going to talk about it, after all. It would be stranger not to.

“During my second week, we helped him out,” Neku murmured. “He should remember us.”

“Yo, I just wanna ask so that I know I’m not goin’ crazy. The Game did happen, didn’t it?” Beat whipped out his phone. “So how come Day 1 is supposed to be…tomorrow.”

Beat was right - which was a weird thing in of itself - the date shown on his phone was the date that they had their first day in the Game.

Neku had woken up in the middle of Scramble Crossing last week and he knew that wasn’t where he died. When he had rushed home then, though, there was no sign of him having been gone for more than the few hours from when he went out that day. He was left even more confused as to when he checked his phone and saw the date, it was a little over a week before he was to start his first Game. Not only was Shibuya not Erased but he had been brought back to life as if nothing had ever happened. Unlike the first time he woke up on the streets, all his memories, even of the Game, seemed to be intact. Some of which, he thought he could do without.

“It was the same for me,” Shiki said after Neku described what happened for him. “I remember everything but…my parents don’t remember me…dying.”

“Our folks don’t remember that either.” Beat grit his teeth, “but they do remember me an’ Rhyme runnin’ outta the house.” A familiar look flashed across Beat’s face. It was the one that he had every time he talked about Rhyme during their third week.

Before Neku could find any words of comfort, Rhyme said, “I think it makes sense that they don’t remember. Otherwise, I don’t think the Reapers having double lives would work.”

“Really?” asked Shiki.

“I think so. I heard about Def Märch before the Game because they were getting more famous. But wouldn’t there be a problem if someone who knew 777 when he was alive saw him? Since he should be dead?”

Neku was sure he didn’t find out about Reapers being able to appear and disappear whenever they wanted until Joshua told him, but Rhyme was observant so he wasn’t surprised that she caught onto that. She did have a point about that; if you become a Reaper, something probably needed to be done to the memories of people around you. “The Reapers, or at least the Conductor and the Composer, definitely have the power to change memories. I learned that the hard way.”

“Right, so if they do if they change up memories of people for Reapers it would make sense that they do it for Players that go back to the RG too,” Rhyme reasoned.

It did make sense…but was something about it bothered Neku. “How come we’ve got back a few weeks, though?” If they could just change memories, why were they also back before the start?

“Mr. H told me and Neku that the Shibuya we saw wasn’t real, so maybe it’s kind of a reset for us?” Shiki suggested though she didn’t sound so sure.

“He did say that. But Joshua, was saying the opposite,” Neku recalled.

“I dunno man, how’re we sure he wasn’ lyin’?”

He couldn’t answer Beat. He wasn’t sure exactly how many of the things Joshua had said to him during their week together were lies but he definitely knew that there was a lot.

Seeming to notice Neku’s change of disposition, Shiki carried on, “So let’s say we were reset. Does that mean everything was reset? You guys went on for another two weeks after we won our game, right? Does that mean that everyone who played those games have come back to life?”

“I’m back and I got Erased in the first week.” Neku wondered how Rhyme could say that in such a matter-of-fact way. “Maybe that means the other Players that got Erased were also brought back. There weren’t any other Players in the third week but Beat and I saw some in the second.”

Other Players in the second week…- wait!

“There were…there were two Players that I made met - that I made friends with - during the second week.” It was the couple, the ones who reached out when he felt himself slipping back to his old self. They were kind and wanted to help other Players, even if it might have put their own reincarnation at risk.  “They were Erased when I was Partners with Joshua and I couldn’t do anything to help them.”

The memory of it, of the Taboo noise attacking the two, of Neku arriving too little too late, flooded through him. What made it worse, though, was that he hadn’t thought of them again until now.

A tentative hand rested on his shoulder. He looked at Shiki, to find her eyes searching his. Although it was the first time he had seen this on her real self, her worry was something he recognised.

While Shiki seemed to try and be a calming presence, Beat was anything but.

“Phones, I don’t wanna freak you out but,” Beat hesitated and Neku had the feeling he would end up freaking out, “when I was a Reapers I was talkin’ to Shades.”

“The Conductor?”

“Yeah, that dude. I asked him a bunch of questions about tryin’ to get Rhyme back and how comin’ back to life works an’ he gave me half-assed answers for most of ‘em but I swear he said that if a Player came back it wouldn’t bring back anyone who’s supposed to die with ‘em.”

“Right…which is why you wanted to become Composer to change the rules,” Neku recalled.

“And Rhyme’s only back ‘cause - ” He exchanged a look with Shiki, who seemed to understand what Beat was going to get at.

“‘Cause we were all there…at the end with The Composer.”

‘At the end’. It was a moment that had been playing in Neku’s mind more times than he could count in the last week.

“We couldn’t move Neku, we couldn’t stop him from…from shooting you.” Shiki’s voice started to tremble. “I was scared for you Neku. But he didn’t Erase you but you were out cold and he said he would bring us all back. And the next thing I knew I was in the middle of a road. It was a few moments before I died. Except I knew that it was so I didn’t get hit by the car in the end.”

“Us neither. Beat stopped running away so we didn’t get to the middle of the road,” said Rhyme. “So it wasn’t that our parents didn’t remember, it’s that we never did die.”

So, Joshua kept all of their memories intact then…For Beat, Rhyme and Shiki, he made it as though their deaths never occurred as they had the memories they needed to stop it from happening themselves. In Neku’s case, it seemed Joshua had to undo things completely since he was the one who killed him. If it was only the four of them that had their memories from the game, though…

“That could mean that…they - those two -  would still die and enter the Game.” Neku’s blood ran cold at the thought.

I don’t know for sure. It was entirely possible that he was simply taking leaps in logic. It wasn’t like any of them were certain that they were the only ones that were ‘brought back’.  Still, if there was even a small chance of it…They didn’t win the Game that Neku played that week - there was no way of knowing whether they would win if they were the play again. If he was remembering correctly though, he was sure he saw them earlier than the Tin Pin tournament.

“Shiki - remember when we were helping that Makoto guy give out the red pins? And he managed to give them out a couple? Both of them had blond hair.”

“Their outfits matched, yes I remember! That was them? That was our second last day…so then - “ Shiki realised it the same time as Neku.

“If time reset then they’re still alive now,” said Neku. ”And not because they were brought back but because they hadn’t died yet in the first place. “So we could - “

“We could stop them from playin’ the Game in the first place!” Beat punctuated those words with his hands slamming down on the counter and jumping off his seat.

“Hey, keep it down. Are you kids not done eating?” Ken Doi’s voice snapped Neku back to attention. He had completely forgotten that they were in such a public place.

It was a good thing Beat had shouted ‘stop them from dying’ because that would cause eyebrows to rise from the other customers, no matter how few of them there were. Neku had to admit that it sounded crazy. But it also sounded crazy enough to work, considering everything else he had gone through in his time in the Game.

“We done. C’mon les’ go.”

“Beat, hold up,” Neku said, trying to get his friend to slow down. “I don’t even know where to begin with this. We’re not sure if they’re actually still going to die. And if they are we don’t know if there’s any chance that we could stop it.”

“Yeah, so les’ just go ask.”

“Ask who?”

Beat grinned.

“The coffee man, who else?”

xxxxx

Neku had thought about it.

There was a small window of consciousness that Neku had, between getting shot and waking up at the crossing. He was sure that during those few seconds, he saw Mr. Hanekoma and Joshua standing side by side. They were both smiling down at him.

The Conductor didn’t seem to know who Mr. H was. Joshua had told Neku himself that he was the Composer, otherwise, he wouldn’t be here right now. So then, who was Mr. Hanekoma? He told Neku to think of him as a ‘guardian’ of the Game. Did he mean that he was there to oversee the Game that Neku was playing or the one that Joshua was playing with the Conductor? Was it his job to do both? Was that why he was there at the end?

Questions like these had plagued Neku’s mind since the day he got back. The reason that Neku started to let his guard down around Joshua was because Mr. H was helping him out. If Joshua’s goal was to cause Shibuya’s destruction then Neku could only conclude that Mr. H was helping Joshua do that. But that can’t be it. If Mr. H was really CAT, he couldn’t believe that. His art, his words, they didn’t call for the end of the city but the constant renewal and growth of it.

With his doubts on Mr. H it wasn’t as if taking a trip to WildKat hadn’t crossed his mind. If Mr. H was actually there…he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know if he was ready to hear the truth of it, if Mr. H was going to share it at all.

At least, he wasn’t ready to face it alone.

The Shibuya streets weren’t exactly appropriate to be running through, not when they couldn’t pass through people anymore. Nevertheless, Beat bulldozed his way through the urban crowds, parting them as people jumped aside to get out of his way. His sister tried to keep up with him, always several paces behind, offering a quick ‘sorry’ to anyone who might want to hear it. Shiki lagged behind slightly, stopping every now and then to catch her breath (“did I mention that I’m also not as athletic in the RG?”). Watching them run, for his sake, for the sake of putting his mind at ease - it made him feel ready.

Their arrival at the cafe’s storefront highlighted their reset, as Shiki called it. It stood, as unassumingly simple as it did when Neku first saw it. That was to say, there was none of the damage that Minamimoto had inflicted on it during their last week.

“Mr. H owns this? Funny…I’ve never noticed this shop before,” Shiki said, squinting at it.

Maybe it was by design; if not a lot of people visited because it was a ‘simple’ shop in Shibuya’s plethora of unique offerings, then it gave Mr. H a lot of time to be doing…whatever that he was supposed to be doing in the Game.

Beat had stopped right in front of the door. He looked back at Neku. “Yo, you aight?”

Neku blinked at Beat, taken aback by the sudden question. “Yeah, I’m - ”

“We don’t have to go in yet,” Shiki said, “if you don’t want to.”

They noticed, huh?

“Thanks guys.” He really was touched. “But I’m okay, let’s go in.”

Even as Beat pushed the door open, however, Neku took in a deep breath. He could do this. He followed behind Shiki, feeling the weight of every step forward.

The shop was empty.

Not completely, there were still pastries in the display, ones that looked fairly fresh. There was no sign of anyone being around though. Neku couldn’t help but start to feel disappointed. For all his apprehension of coming here, Hanekoma wasn’t actually around. Being here when they wanted to see him would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Seems cosy,” said Shiki, if for nothing else but to fill the silence that had set between the four.

Neku pulled out a chair, sinking down into it. Might as well sit down, while he thought of what they could do next. If they were going to help Sota and Nao, they should probably go look for them. It might be possible if he could still scan people, but how was he supposed to find them in a sea of people that he couldn’t read? If they did need help, in the first place.

Lost in his thoughts, once again, he only registered that Beat was snooping around when he heard a tearing sound. He sat straight up, recalling that this was where Hanekoma had hidden the note for them, leading their way to the Shibuya River.

“Huh? The hell is this?” Turning to show the others, Beat had his fists clenched around two feathers, grip a tad rough for such delicate-looking items. They gave off a glow as if hinting that they would not be harmed no matter how Beat handled them. “Why’d Coffee Man leave these here?”

“Maybe he’s a bird keeper on top of a cafe owner and working as CAT,” Neku said, drily. “You sure you didn’t find anything else in there?”

“Nah, nothing else in there ‘cept dust,” Beat confirmed. He came back around the front of the counter, looking to hand the feathers to Neku.

Sighing, Neku got up and took them from Beat, making sure to be gentler with them than he was. While they looked like feathers, they weren’t exactly ‘normal’ looking feathers.

“Did those come from a Noise?” Shiki adjusted her glasses, taking a step close to inspect them properly. They did look like they could have come from one. “Maybe you actually got it Neku, maybe he’s some kind of birdkeeper…for those bird-looking Noise. Or just in charge of the Noise in general.”

“He did know how to make Noise,” said Rhyme, also taking a closer look. “That’s how he kept Beat and I in the game, after all.”

“Maybe.” That was one possibility. It was just a gut feeling but Neku didn’t think that was it. Though he didn’t think that Hanekoma was a Reaper either. Whoever he was, he must have been pretty important if he knew the Composer so well. Knew him a lot better than I did.

Bzzt.

The buzzing came from one of his pockets. It was his phone. He fished it out of his pocket and stared at it.

“What’s wrong, Phones?”

The only people who would message him were in this room. Except for the two people that he couldn’t seem to find.

Flipping open his phone he clicked on the message, sent from an unknown number.

–

I’m devastated that I couldn’t make it today. I have a few things to attend to.

You’re probably all at WildKat Cafe right now, aren’t you? Predictable.

I’d rather not come back and find you running around Shibuya aimlessly again so I’ll give you a little hint -

Sota Honjo and Nao Akahoshi.

Entered Shibuya’s UG on the 2nd of August.

6.48pm

I can’t provide you a timer in the RG but it’s safe to say your time limit is within seven days.

Have fun saving the tin pin champions.

–

Neku considered reading it out loud but he wasn’t confident in how his tone would come out right now. He passed his phone along, allowing the others to read through it. The message gave Neku so many more questions. Ones that he wouldn’t know how to voice properly, even if Joshua had been standing right here with them.

Yet that was as good as a confirmation that he was going to get that he had to do this. No, he didn’t have to - he wanted to.

“Look at the time,” Shiki said as she passed Neku back his phone.

6.48pm

“Seven days, exactly.”

And to think, only this morning Neku had been looking forward to spending time with his friends without having a time limit hanging above them.

This time, though, they were alive. Alive along with the rest of Shibuya, brimming with life day in and day out.

“You guys sure you’re alright with trying to do this?”

It was a question that didn’t need to be asked.

They were with him.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Ghost” Part 2

Bane’s wife is a mystery to everyone, including her husband. Ghost also happens to be The Joker’s little obsession, not that she ever pays attention to him. Maybe that’s why The King of Gotham should stop messing around: when you push too much, you might get more than you bargained for.

The Joker and his girlfriend left about 15 minutes ago; Kara was in a bad shape and you offered to drive her car back tomorrow. You have no idea how she made it to your house after the events at the club. You could tell J was fuming and for once he seemed to care about what happened to his woman: maybe it was a little wakeup call The King of Gotham needed. Hard to tell when it comes to these matters due to his spectacular personality.

One thing’s for sure though: after his arrival Kara couldn’t stop crying and Ghost knew why. The Joker’s girlfriend merely escaped assault and him giving a damn about the ordeal made her overemotional: it was the first time he showed some real interest outside the bedroom; he held her hand all the way to the car and didn’t even mind a kiss before she got in.

“You’re awfully quiet,” your husband points out. “You’ve been staring out the windows at the empty parking lot since they left. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m fine,” you turn only to see him signal for you.

Bane is not stupid; he can tell you’re distracted and he can guess the reason. As soon as you straddle his lap he rests his forehead on yours, choosing to dig a bit dipper without sugar coating his objective.

“Are you thinking about that day?”

You take such a strenuous breath there’s no need for a verbal confirmation.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You are aware of the meaning:  your spouse is not asking for details, he’s just bringing it up in case you want to share your feelings regarding Kara’s unfortunate experience.

You caress his bald head and sigh, prepared to describe the facts.

Bane never mentioned anything about the first time you’ve met simply because he always assumed he understood what he saw five years ago. The truth is he didn’t.

“When…when you found me…” you gulp and he distinguishes the struggle.

“Hey,” your husband whispers. “That’s not why I brought it up. You don’t have to re-live the past; I was trying to hint that if you want to discuss…”

He twists a strand of your white hair around his finger while you interrupt:

“When you found me behind the truck, that guy wasn’t trying to rape me; he was trying to kill me.”

Bane’s not wearing his mask and you can read the conflicting emotions written all over his face.

“Vee was my ex,” you continue and pause in order to gather your thoughts. “When I learned he was involved in human trafficking, I urged him to quit. The money was great and he refused so I planned to disappear and help some girls flee in the process. I was very careful yet he still perceived my intentions and when you bumped into us… he was trying to finish me so I won’t be any trouble for his boss and their line of business.”

“Shit…” HB mumbles, hating that his Ghost looks upset.

“I wasn’t defending myself from a rapist, I was fighting for my life. What do you think about that, hm?” you throw the question at him and his reply doesn’t fail:

“That whatever- his-name-was-your-ex had it coming. You can’t kill a Goddess! A man is lucky enough to encounter one and if he fucks up, then he signs up for the bitter consequences.”

A few moments of complete silence, then Bane hears his favorite words:

“I love you,” Y/N pecks the thin scars across his nose and decides to turn the gloomy night into a more accommodating situation. “We were having lots of fun when the unexpected guest barged in; we should stick to the original schedule and reprise our activity.”

“Agree,” Bane squeezes you in his strong arms tighter. “A tiny Ghost might be already in here,” he softly rubs your tummy.

“Or a handsome little brute,” you giggle and he has to underline:

“However, it doesn’t hurt to keep practicing.”

“U-hum,” you wink and he likes the smile forming on your lips, infinitely better than having his wife distressed about an incident that almost ended her existence.

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

5 Years Ago

Bane was done loading the supplies he wanted in his truck, lingering at the spot chosen for that evening’s transaction. It was consistently a random place where everyone that wanted to buy or sell could get together and exchange merchandise; under the radar of course, since the negotiations were less than legal and the individuals present could have easily be enlisted on FBI’s most wanted list.

A lot of turmoil and movement at the campsite, but he still detected a woman’s scream; he carefully listened when it happened again. Bane circled his truck and walked between the vehicles stationed there until his heavy steps abruptly halted: there was a lady trying to get from under a limp body collapsed on top of hers, still holding the rock she used in order to defend herself.  

You crawled from under Vee and froze when you noticed Bane glaring at you. Y/N recognized the masked man: he was starting to gain a certain reputation, not that it was his purpose; he only stuck to his agenda and didn’t give a damn about anything else.

Your future spouse believed that one of the imbeciles tried to sample the merchandise and got more than he could chew; he also knew they didn’t like the girls to rebel and the price paid if they did.

That feral look in your eyes reminded him of the same fire that fueled his veins every time he attempted to get out of the accursed Pit; made him take a decision he never regretted: instead of alerting the others and score a nice bonus for cooperation, Bane gave you a choice.

“If you want to survive, come with me.”

You hesitated: was he toying with you before sounding the alarm?! The pile of muscles indifferently distanced from the scene and you got on your feet, stumbling from the aftermath of almost being assassinated by your former boyfriend. Vee was out cold and you dropped the rock by his feet, not bothering to check if he was dead.

You followed Bane to his truck and he gestured for you to hop in the back; it was difficult to fit in between the boxes yet you managed anyway. He covered everything with the tarp and advised while sealing the way out:

“Stay put!”

It was a nerve wracking couple of hours: Bane drove away immediately and you had no clue about what will occur next. Where was he taking you anyway?

**********  

He pried the door and Y/N strolled inside when she realized he was keeping it opened for her. “This is a gated, private property; we’re right outside Gotham, north of Willow Creek. You should lay low: by know they must have identified the guy and they might be searching for the responsible party.”

He was thinking you were “one of the girls” and you didn’t correct him.

“I had no clue I’ll find myself in this mess,” you skeptically brought it up. “I should go to my apartment and pack suitcases.”

“Bad idea,” the distorted voice huffed. “You should disappear, it’s safer. Those are not the type of people you want to cross!”

You nervously played with the hem of your torn dress and Bane added:

“There are clean clothes in the bedroom; you can use one of my t-shirts. I’ll bring some items your size tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?!” you inquired, perplexed.

“Nope, I’m busy. Give yourself a tour; I’m positive you can cope with my absence.”

He saw the doubt and muttered:

“You’re not a prisoner; you can leave. Close the gates if you do. If I were you, I would linger on the premises.”

That’s all he said and left a very confused Y/N in the middle of the living room. You wished to ask why he was aiding a total stranger, but you figured it was dumb to do so: Bane seemed like the type of man that didn’t do things unless he felt like it. Period.

You curiously inspected the house, marveled that it was neat and organized: four bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs, the spacious living room, another bathroom and the kitchen downstairs. The dust settled on the counters indicated the hideout wasn’t used very often; the decorations were minimal, mostly functional, basic furniture.

You were grateful when you opened the fridge and found some food that was still eatable: the precooked kind but you weren’t picky at that point. After warming up a container in the microwave, Y/N took a sit at the table; with the crazy events that spiraled out of control she didn’t have time to reflect about her current predicament.

It hit as you were munching on your ravioli: how the hell did you end up there?! A sudden, unbearable sense of isolation washed all over you, the numbness that protected you from the initial shock gradually dissipating in thin air.

You had no plan. None whatsoever.

Was it better to go with the flow until you could outline a strategy aimed to get you out of the deep whole you accidentally sunk in? Maybe…

So you did.

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

Next morning, Bane popped at the residence as promised; at 10:12 am he discovered a hyper Y/N tidying up the kitchen: after a sleepless night and six cups of coffee, she was pretty much invincible. You were wearing one of his military print t-shirts: it was big and he was somehow amused to see you swim in the garment.

“I brought you clothes, shoes and food,” Bane grumbled and arranged boxes on the chair closer to you. “I estimated on the size.”

“Thank you,” the sincerity in your voice proved you meant it. “Thank you for helping me.”

“U-hum,” he intensely gazed at you and maybe because you weren’t in your best shape you misinterpreted his demeanor: was your savior expecting some sort of reward? Since you didn’t have much to offer at that time, Bane probably wanted sex as compensation for his services. If he would have taken what he wanted by force, you reckoned it wouldn’t have been pleasant, not with a man his size; not putting up a fight could have made it at least bearable.  

Your logic was way off though: as soon as you took your t-shirt off he came near, picked it from the floor and dressed you back himself.

“You don’t have to do that,” he emphasized and saw how embarrassed you were. “Do you know how to load guns?” Bane switched the dialogue without making it awkward.

“Not really…”

“I’ll show you; I have a project coming up and you can assist.”

“OK,” you were fast to accept as it was an easy way to repay him.

“Besides cracking someone’s skull with a rock, do you know how to defend yourself?” the interrogation continued.

”If I have to.”

“Comes in handy,” he muffled the words beyond the mask and promptly took it off so he can enjoy the coffee too.

It was the first time you saw Bane minus the breathing device; definitely not what you imagined: he was good-looking. HB had a few thin scars across his nose and a thicker one above the upper lip that added a certain flair to his wholesomeness. 

He caught you staring and misjudged:

“What?” he growled, pouring hot liquid in a mug. “Is the view not up to your standards?”

Y/N has always been a direct person, that’s why she described exactly what was in her mind:

“I was actually thinking that you’re handsome.”

One of Bane’s eyebrows went high and he huffed at the candid remark:

“Hm… … I’ve been called worse.”

You bit on your cheek and waited for him to finish his coffee in silence, but he had more to say.

“You should change your appearance; it’s safer if they’re searching around for the runaway girl that dared retaliate.”

You nodded a yes, wondering how you could accomplish such task. He wasn’t wrong: it would have evidently aided if they were indeed hunting for you.

“I know somebody,” Bane insinuated the path of action. “I can bring Zorina here and she can work her magic; the woman’s a pro.”

“Sure,” you welcomed his proposal and instantly blurred out: “I have money stashed at my apartment; it’s a hefty sum, all cash. I’ll have to retrieve it then I will be able to reimburse you for everything you’re doing for me.”

He snorted, entertained at your passionate tirade:

“Reimbursed!” Bane repeated and slammed the cup on the counter, preparing to bail. “Don’t worry about that; they might have the condo under surveillance or maybe they already raided the rooms and took your money.”

“I hope not…” you frowned, swiftly tense at his warning.

“Wait for Zorina,” the suggestion alleviated your anxiety a bit. “I’ll text her and she can be here in one hour. I am going out of town in the morning; I will return on the 27th,” he grabbed his mask from the table. “If you have an emergency, call the number I uploaded as an emergency contact,” Bane handed you a brand new cell phone.

“Will you be the one answering?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed and noticed how relieved you seemed at his affirmation.

Bane came back after 10 days, on the 27th as scheduled. You were outside on the porch and he stopped in his tracks when you emerged from behind the wood pillars.

“How do I look like?” you presented the new Y/N to the stunned man instead of a conventional greeting: your hair was completely white, shaved on the left side and the fresh skull tattoo inked on the exposed skin completed the ensemble quite beautifully. The dark red eyeshadow and black leather suit scored extra points with your future husband.

Bane was a straightforward person and didn’t utter words unless he meant them, yet the unpredicted reply still made you smile:

“Like a Goddess.”

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

For the next six months you helped with whatever was necessary: it kept you busy and while you understood everything was a test, you were able to form your own opinions too.

Bane wasn’t a mindless brute: he was intelligent, outspoken and articulate; the crew didn’t question his decisions not necessarily due to his physical appearance that indicated he could level anyone to the ground with one punch, but because they respected him.

You blindly plunged into an unfamiliar environment: in the great scheme of things, your ex Vee has invariably been a pawn struggling to find his way up to the top. Weren’t you the same now? Another small piece of the puzzle trying to figure out where it belongs?  

You weren’t positive so you kept your distance from the team members and never really talk to them; Y/N only did what she was told and stayed away from social interactions. After your disappointing past experiences, one could have said you didn’t like people. Why bother?

Even Bane was probably going to send you on your way soon: he kept on coming to the house more often and your best speculation was that he was getting ready to tell you to vacate the property. Which was fair; you couldn’t rely on his hospitality forever. And for some reason it made you sad.

It was true that Bane dropped by more often: from barely visiting the hideout once a month before your arrival, he multiplied his visits to 3-4 times a week. Under the pretext of checking up on his protégé and give her assignments, of course. It had nothing to do with how much he liked seeing your face light up every time he was around.

One night you fell asleep in front of the fireplace: it was cozy to pile up blankets and watch the longs burn until they turned into ashes. You woke up around 2 in the morning and stretched, surprised to see Bane passed out on the couch a couple of feet away. You didn’t hear him sneak in and assumed he had a motive for being there: to finally tell you he wanted the residence evacuated.

You rolled over and got on your knees, carefully placing two more logs on top of the dying fire.

“Add more,” the deep tone made you jump. “It’s getting chilly.”

“Hi,” you tilted your head to look at him. “I didn’t mean to awake you,” you apologized and did as requested.

“You didn’t,” Bane rubbed his eyes, totally used with short power naps instead of dozing off for hours.

You delayed more conversation, but it had to be addressed although you dreaded the subject; maybe he was expecting you to get the hint so you gathered the courage to speak up:  

“I was debating… I should…e-hem…” you fakely coughed, “… find a new establishment…”

“Don’t you wanna stay?” he cut you off.

“I do,” you admitted, “but it’s not fair to take advantage of…”

Bane’s laughter at the statement made you halt your small presentation; it was his strategy of disguising how discouraged he was at your arbitrary idea.

“I doubt I’m the type that can be taken advantage of,” he got on his elbow and you abandoned the warmth of the fireplace in order to sit down by him on the sofa. “You don’t have to go anywhere…unless you wish to,” he gave you choices once more.

You glared at each other for a few seconds and then you demanded:

“Can you please take your mask off?”

“Why?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Bane unsnapped the leather straps without a second invitation: God knows he seldom dreamed about it without paying attention to what it truly meant.

Your lips touched and the intimacy made him slowly pull you in his arms; it seemed natural that the woman he was in love with belonged there.

“My name is Y/N,” you suddenly moaned in between kisses and Bane paused, eager to mention:

“For your own safety I suggest to never disclose it to another living soul. It’s better if you don’t exist; a ghost doesn’t have a past or present thus can never be seized.”

“I like the notion of being a Ghost,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “And you have to call me something; the rest of the world also.”

“Sounds like you got yourself a deal,” Bane grinned and instantly cautioned: “I also have to bring up to your attention that I’ve never slept with a Goddess before.”

Your mouth got close to his ear and you whispered:

“I’ve never slept with a Handsome Brute but I believe we’ll manage.”

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

Today, 1:13 am

Your cell phone keeps on vibrating on the nightstand; attempting to ignore the insufferable noise might wake up Bane: you exhausted your husband last night and he has to recharge. You’ll probably need his services by morning time so… might as well make an effort for his sake.

Great, it’s The Joker.

“Hello?” you keep your voice down.

“I was thinking,” the insomniac King of Gotham gets straight to the core of the issue without apologizing for the late call. “Next time Bane’s out of town and you don’t accompany him, I should take you out to dinner; then we can get some stuff out of our system.”

Is he for reals?!

“I have a better proposal!” you hiss, irritated. “Next time Bane’s out of town without me, you’ll take your girlfriend out to dinner and then you can get whatever you want out of your system with her!! I’ll wait for my husband and then when he comes home he’ll know how to take care of my system!! GOT IT??!!” you hang up and J is displeased at your behavior:

“How fucking rude!” he puffs, cuddling next to Kara; she’s snoozing after her misfortune. 

“Who’s that?” your spouse groans.

“Uggghh,” you snuggle to his chest, aggravated by J’s crap.

“Idiot…” HB wraps both naked bodies tighter in the fluffy cover since he guessed the name; your reaction is enough clue.

Ghost pecks his shoulder and gradually relaxes, 100% convinced of the only truth in her life: if she ends up with nothing again, as long as he’s there she will still have everything.

Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/187322128171/the-joker-x-reader-ghost-part-1

Also read: MASTERLIST

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on AO3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[mysticscanlations]

That Summer Chapter 146 Translation!

Read the raws here: That Summer

YW: Hi.

YW: Have you been well?

YW: Looking at your face, it seems like you are.

YW: Whew~

YW: I had so much trouble getting here.

YW: Sorry, I'm gonna drink a little.

SFX: Gulp (x3)

YW: If you keep staring like you've seen a stalker, I'm gonna be sad...

YW: Don't misunderstand, I'm not here to catch you.

-I'm just stopping by while I'm on vacation.

HB: Va...cation?

YW: Yeah, I'm backpacking!

-Since it's summer break, I wanted to come to the US at least once before I got busy.

ST: Did you know? They let medical students get their passport even 3 weeks beforehand!

YW: For now, that's the reason... I wanted to come here as soon as possible.

-I had something to give you.

SFX: Tap

YW: Take it.

HB: What is this.

YW: The money I borrowed from your father.

YW: I used it for my mom's surgery,

YW: to move,

-and to pay for my tuition.

YW: I still have a lot to give back,

-but I'll start repaying it slowly from now on.

HB: Stop talking nonsense..

SFX: Shake (x2)

HB: Take it back.

HB: I don't know about that stuff.

-Congrats on getting into medical school, that was your dream.

SFX: Slide (x2)

YW: No.

YW: It was you.

YW: Aren't you the one who asked your father? To help me out.

YW: If it weren't for that, there would be no reason for you to be here.

YW: … Why did you do it?

-What do you gain from helping me out that much.

YW: Whether or not I take the CSAT for a 3rd time has nothing to do with you.

-Neither does my mom collapsing or us being out on the streets.

YW: It had nothing to do with you,

-and if things went as had, you would've taken the CSAT last year and gone to a college in Korea.

YW: Why did you needlessly interfere and end up here?

-Just what are you doing here?

YW: Seriously, why did you do it, you idiot?

HB: H... How's your mom?

HB: They say that you even need to pay attention to the after-effects when it comes to brain surgery.

-She needs to be healthy.

YW: .. My mom's okay.

-She's getting therapy for now.

YW: Thanks to you, a huge storm has passed.

YW: Ah~

HB: Good for you.

YW: I really can't understand you.

YW: I'm asking why you helped me...

-No,

-that's not what I wanted to say...

YW: Thanks.

YW: I don't know if you remember, but you once said this. That no matter what I thought, the feelings of you liking me during the time we went out were real.

YW: I'll apologize for internally laughing at you for that.

YW: The things you've done for me

-were things that couldn't be easily given or received.

YW: I'll remember

-meeting you.

YW: Because you were there,

-even when life sometimes felt exhausting,

YW: I was able to endure it.

YW: I'll never forget it.

HB: Hyung,

-don't be too sorry.

HB: This is just the path I chose.

Box: Ordered because he was hungry

YW: … Path, you say—

YW: For a long time, my dream was to be a doctor.

-A job where you can save other people's lives, make a difference, and make a lot of money so that you can live a stable life after retirement... There aren't many like that.

YW: Poverty and anxiety made it so that I couldn't think of any other path.

-... I thought that was the only path for me.

YW: But recently I've been thinking about something.

YW: Just why did I think I couldn't take another path?

YW: I want to change this world.

YW: To one where the younger version of me can think about other paths, too.

YW: Where people are less tired than they are now,

YW: can make more choices, and live with the dreams they have.

HB: Wow.

HB: At this rate, you might get into politics like my father, you know?

YW: May~be?

ST: Don't worry, I have no thoughts on working under your father

YW: I know it's difficult to do on my own.

YW: But I have a lot of good friends.

YW: If I don't let my pride get in the way, I'm sure they'll help when I need them.

YW: Since they've always been been there.

ST: Thanks for remembering me.

ST: I heard you're in Boston?

ST: Come visit me in Pennsylvania!

HB: That's the broadcasting club gang for you.

-They all like you, anyways.

ST: The power of alums

HB: If you asked for help, I'm sure they'd come running.

HB: … I'm going to be a reporter.

ST: Oh~

YW: Reporter?

ST: Shy

HB: It's not like I've been doing nothing while I've been here, either.

HB: When I thought about what I was good at,

-I realized I like to write, I'm good at cracking people down, and biting down and stretching things out is my specialty.

ST: Haha

YW: That's perfect for you.

-...Then I guess if we both work hard, we might meet again in the future.

HB: .. Don't think I'll help you like the others will.

YW: But Hee bum.

YW: Why aren't you mentioning Jumi?

1st rated comment: Don't forget Webfoot Octopus ㅠㅠ

2nd rated comment: Jumi ㅠㅠ

3rd rated comment: Yeah, Jumi Jumi!!!!!! Jumi!!!!!

[amillionmillionvoices]

@victorianlesbian, and @fligurl86 asked for a hicsqueak tattoo fic, and my brain obliged. Inspired by this ask from my A1. <3 title from sappho (anne carson) - if not, winter. 

and who is good will soon be beautiful 

Hecate hasn’t gotten a tattoo from anyone but Dimity Drill in sixteen years. Not so much out of loyalty (though there is that, a little, though she’d never admit it) but she’s a creature of habit. Dimity knows her style, knows what she likes and doesn’t. She trusts her, though the woman annoys her to no end, always talking about her sports league and gym habits and other things Hecate generally tunes out. She isn’t quite sure if she’d call Dimity a friend (though it hurt, when she found out she’d been excluded from her birthday party) but she’s kind and intelligent and good at what she does, and that’s enough.

She’s also, however, frustratingly observant, and it’s only twenty minutes in to her session for an ornate willow tree on her calf that Dimity looks up with a smirk.

“Her name’s Pippa.”

Hecate blinks, and snaps her gaze from the blonde woman across the room that she’d...evidently been staring at.

“Pardon?”

“Pippa Pentangle. She’s new. Just moved here from London.” Dimity grins. “Single, far as I know.”

Hecate doesn’t flinch, even as her heart hammers. “I don’t know why any of that information would be relevant to me.”

Dimity snorts. “Cause you look like you lost a carrot and found a cream cake.”

Hecate glowers, shoves her headphones in her ears and pointedly does not look at anything other than the ceiling for the next two hours.

She barely notices the time pass until there’s a blur of pink in her peripheral vision, and Pippa is leaning over Dimity’s shoulder. Hecate switches off her music.

“What’d you think?”

Hecate stares resolutely st the ceiling.

“She’s beautiful,” Pippa says softly, almost wistfully, and Hecate prays neither of them notice the blush that takes over her cheeks. “I mean, it! It’s beautiful. The tattoo,” Pippa stutters, and Dimity laughs, and Hecate can feel her stare when she says gleefully,

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

—

Pippa’s work is...pretty. It’s soft and colorful and occasionally cartoonish, bright, happy things done in bright, happy ways.

She only has a few tattoos herself, which Hecate finds odd. There’s an owl on the inside of her forearm and a small bee just below her knee she spies one day when Pippa wears a short dress that sends her first into a coughing fit and Dimity into stitches.

Other than that, Hecate can’t see anything, and she can’t help but wonder if there are others, hidden. If they’re secret, or private. What it might be like to know, for Pippa to show her—

She cuts off that line of thinking before it becomes too real, too desirable.

Still, every time she’s in the shop - which is more frequently, it seems - she finds herself sneaking glances at Pippa as she putters around the shop, talks to clients, works on someone.

She’s chatty, but not in the way Dimity is. Dimity tells everyone her entire life’s story.

Pippa asks questions. She gets to know people, but shares so little of herself, and Hecate wonders why. Why someone so bright, so perfect, would be so quiet.

She feels a kinship with that she’s not sure she has any right to. Especially given that she’s only said about five words to Pippa, and three of them were rude.

But sometimes, she’ll be sitting with Dimity, and when she glances up Pippa will be staring at her, a small smile on her face. She always looks away, turns her attention back to whatever it was she was working on, and Hecate doesn’t dare to hope. Imagines she was probably lost in thought.

Dimity rolls her eyes, and says a bit loudly, “Can you cut it with the tension already? Some of us are trying to work here.”

Hecate glowers, and across the room, Pippa flushes and smiles.

—

It’s a stupid idea. Quite possibly her stupidest, but that doesn’t appear to be stopping her.

Ada greets her kindly, as she always does, and asks if they’re still on for tea that weekend (they are) and Hecate inquires after her students (she still teaches part time) but she can’t stop her gaze from flickering toward the back of the shop.

“Dimity’s with someone at the moment, but she should be wrapping up soon, and she’s got some time if you like.”

Hecate swallows. “Actually, I was hoping Miss Pentangle might be available.”

Ada’s eyebrows skyrocket into her hairline and it doesn’t escape Hecate’s notice that she has to forcibly bury her grin.

“Of course. Let me see.”

Ada makes a show of checking the calendar and Hecate raps her nails against the counter.

“You’re in luck,” Ada says finally, before she turns and hollers back into the shop, “Pippa, you’ve got a walk-in, dear!”

“Be right there!”

Hecate’s stomach flips at the sound of her voice, and she realizes this was not only stupid, but ridiculous and foolish and while Ada’s back is turned, she twists on her heel and all but runs out of the shop.

—

It’s been six months since Pippa started working at the shop, and they’ve exchanged a grand total of perhaps 10 sentences.

Pippa will occasionally wander around to see what Dimity’s doing now (each planet, relative in size, in a line down her outer thigh).

Hecate tries not to tense at the way Pippa stares, her eyes sweeping over the bared skin.

Though most of her body is covered in tattoos - nature scenes and constellations, old goddesses and cityscapes - she rarely ever shows them to anyone. She wears long sleeved, high collared dresses most days, only the single back line above her knuckle on her middle finger visible, and most don’t even notice, or mistake it for a ring.

She shivers under Pippa’s stare, her smile, and looks away.

Pippa leaves, and Dimity pauses, looking at Hecate strangely.

“Something on your mind, Miss Drill?” she sneers, but Dimity doesn’t respond as she usually does, with good natured teasing.

Instead, she ducks her head and goes back to work, says quietly, “You know she just got out of a long relationship, bad breakup. Right wanker, too, from what she’s told me.”

Hecate glances over at Pippa, standing by the desk, laughing at something Ada has said. She can’t imagine Pippa being sad. Can’t imagine Pippa being hurt. It makes her stomach clench and her face feel hot and her hands wish for something or someone to punch.

Still, Dimity doesn’t need to know that, so she arches an eyebrow, says coldly, “Perhaps you should keep other people’s business to yourself, Miss Drill.”

Dimity stops and glares up at her. “It’s common knowledge around here. The only reason you don’t know is cause you can’t work up the courage to ask.”

Hecate flinches, manages a terse, “You mistake cowardice for disinterest.”

Dimity snorts. “Hate to break it to you, HB, but if you were any more interested you’d be a neon billboard.”

Hecate clenches her jaw and looks away, silent for a long while, wrestling with herself before she asks, “Is it really so obvious?”

There must be something in her voice, some fear or anxiety because Dimity softens her words with a smile.

“Only to those of us with eyes.”

—

She makes an appointment with Pippa. Insists on paying up front, hoping it will motivate her not to back out.

For a week before the appointment she frets and curses herself and Dimity and Pippa and everyone else she wants.

She hasn’t felt like this in ages. Possibly ever. She knows she hardly knows Pippa - might find her grating or shallow or unintelligent - but for the first time in a long time, it almost feels worth the risk to find out. Worth it to embarrass herself, worth it to take a chance, worth it to get her heart broken.

She’s not so sure of that when the day arrives, and she shows up at the shop in long sleeved shirt and dark jeans, her hair up in its customary bun.

Pippa is waiting for her when she walks in, her eyes bright, hands fiddling together near her waist.

“Hi,” she says.

Hecate slowly closes the door behind her. “Hello.”

They stare at one another until Ada coughs from behind the counter.

“Right,” Pippa says brightly. “This way.”

“I have been here before,” Hecate says, then winces at her tone, an automatic response; but Pippa only looks back over her shoulder with a grin.

“Not on my side of the shop.”

She takes her into one of the open cubicals, and Hecate tries not to wrinkle her nose at the designs on the walls. Hearts and flowers and birds - god, so many birds - and trees, all in bright colors, all joyous.

Hecate thinks of her own arm, covered in black, and wonders what someone like Pippa could possibly want from someone like her.

Still, she sits when Pippa gestures to the chair, hands clenched in her lap.

“So. What can I do for you?”

Hecate hesitates. Her eyes flicker over a cute looking frog kissing another frog, and her stomach knots for more reason than one.

But Pippa is looking at her with warm eyes, kind and deep and Hecate takes a deep breath, rolls up her sleeve.

There’s a patch of bare skin on the inside of her right wrist.

“A cat,” she says.

Pippa blinks. “Cat?”

Hecate nods, licking her lips. “My—I have a black one.”

“Of course you do. What’s her name?”

“Morgana.”

Pippa smiles. “Hecate and Morgana. Quite a penchant for mythology, yeah?”

“Yes, I’ve never heard that one before,” she says dryly.

Pippa’s smile widens. “Alright then. What’d you have in mind?”

Hecate takes a deep breath, and shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

Pippa pauses in her reach for a pencil. “Are you sure? I’m not—I mean, my work doesn’t seem like your style.”

“If you’d rather not—“

“No!” Pippa says quickly, reaching out a hand as if to keep her in the chair. “I’d love to. I just—Dimity said you haven’t worked with anyone else in years. You trust me?”

Hecate doesn’t know why. Doesn’t even know if she does entirely, but she wants to find out. Wants to know if she can.

“It’s only ink,” she says.

Pippa looks a bit disappointed, but then squares her jaw and nods decisively.

“Okay.”

She spends the next ten minutes sketching, eyeing the space on Hecate’s wrist for size. Then transfers it, then stencils it to her skin.

Hecate keeps her eyes averted. Doesn’t want to see what cutesy monstrosity she’s going to end up with. But she nods when Pippa asks if she’s ready, and they begin.

It’s quiet for a long while, and Hecate wracks her brain trying to think of something, anything to say.

“Your work is very...pink,” she says finally.

“Haven’t you been keeping up with the latest trends?” she asks, a spark in her eyes as she glances up. “Black and grey is out, watercolors are in.”

Hecate purses her lips. “Vanity is very unbecoming in an artist.”

Pippa shrugs. “But, like pink, not against any sort of code now, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

Pippa grins.

—

The conversation is stilted at first. Hecate never knows what to say, doesn’t like to talk about herself. Pippa seems to be trying too hard to keep the mood bright, but eventually she tells Hecate about her breakup, the horrible relationship she got stuck in for almost a decade. Hecate mentions, very quickly, that she had a similarly disastrous relationship with her father.

Pippa asks what she does when she’s not in the chair, and Hecate admits she owns a small cafe on the other side of town, that Ada is a long time customer and friend, and that’s how she met Dimity.

They talk about tattoos and trends and Hecate even indulges a bit of shop gossip. She can hardly stop staring at Pippa, her blonde hair, the line of her jaw, her brilliant smiles.

Somehow, she makes Pippa laugh a few times, and it feels like she’s won something precious. Something just for her.

The hour and a half goes by so quickly, Hecate doesn’t quite know what to do with herself when Pippa sits back and snaps off her gloves.

“There. Done.”

Hecate braces herself - pink is fine, pink is fine, pink is fine - but when she looks down, there’s hardly any pink at all. Just an accent, in a dark galaxy - blues and blacks and purples, and little spots of white, all contained within the outline of a black cat, sitting primly on her wrist.

Hecate swallows tightly. It’s beautiful, of course, but more than that it’s her. Her style, her taste.

And it looks like Morgana, the outline. But she has the whole galaxy inside her, which is how Hecate feels sometimes - like she’s a shell too thin for everything inside her. The tattoos, she think, keep some of it safe. Protect her, even if it’s just from herself.

To her horror, she feels tears prick at her eyes and she clenches her teeth, hard.

“You don’t like it.”

Her gaze snaps up and Pippa looks dejected, heartbroken, almost, her eyes equally wet even as she forces a mild, “I’m sure Dimity can fix it for you.”

“No.”

Pippa looks up with a frown. “No?”

“No, I—I don’t want to fix it,” she says, her voice a bit hoarse. “I love it.”

She’s never said that before, not even to Dimity. “It’s satisfactory,” or “Thank you for your talent, Miss Drill” is the most she ever manages, but this...this small thing, she loves. Loves so much it tugs something in her chest looser and looser, and unravels completely when Pippa gives a wet laugh.

“Oh, thank god. I thought you were going to murder me for a minute.”

Hecate rolls her eyes. “Hardly. The clean up would be far too tiresome.”

Pippa smiles and rubs a thin layer of ointment over the tattoo, and Hecate tries not to shiver at her touch, so light. She fails, and Pippa looks up nervously.

“Did I hurt you?”

Hecate shakes her head, unable to speak, unable to say how empty she feels when Pippa stops and pulls away.

She gently wraps the fresh ink, and arches an eyebrow when she’s through. “I assume I don’t have to give you the aftercare speech?”

“Hardly.”

“Good,” Pippa says, turning in her chair to grab something from her desk. “However, if you do have any issues, you can reach me here.”

She hands Hecate one of her business cards, with a number scrawled on the back.

“Issues?”

Pippa shrugs. “The usual. Itching, peeling, boredom, Saturday night drinks.”

Hecate lifts her gaze from the card to Pippa, sees her biting her lip, and her hands shake. She stares at Pippa and Pippa stares at her and it’s a while before she finds her voice, a careful, controlled,

“I...don’t recall having had issues before,” she says, and Pippa’s face falls until she adds, “But drinks would be...agreeable. If you—“

“Yes,” Pippa says. “Yes.”

Hecate almost smiles, ducks her head to hide the shy lift to her lips. She startles when Pippa crooks a finger under her chin.

“Don’t hide,” Pippa says softly. “You smile beautifully.”

Hecate flushes, but she manages to hold Pippa’s warm gaze for a few moments before she breaks, looks back at her wrist.

“I should go.”

Pippa nods and sits back. “But you’ll call me, right?”

Hecate clutches her card in her pocket. “Yes. I promise.”

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