#but yeah. it’s stuffed in my notes :3 i could possibly pop in each of your inboxes maybe

[lume-nosity]

happy valentines~ <3

HAPPY (late) VALENTINES DAY MELOOOONNNNN

damn “treat me like white tees, don’t get me dirty~” headass. not that i’m complaining though!! melon got that genshin rizz

“adepti? no, adeptus because you’re the only one i need” *lipbite*

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Floyd Leech?

a/n: Someone requested this; ask got deleted by accident! Hope you will like it, Anon!

Warning!

Once you start walking through the specific points of the guide, your life will be exposed to the presence of Floyd Leech. Interrupting the action at one of the stages may cause many problems; F. Leech categorizes stopping as "boring", which puts the user of this guide in great danger.

The only way out is to get to the very end. Or not to start at all.

You act at your own risk.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ 

1.   Be an easy new target.

To one’s surprise, it is much harder not to catch his attention.

You can easily become another entertaining target of Floyd, mostly by doing silly things or him just considering them as ones.

And to automatically get labelled as “silly”, you just need to fall into one of his traps—he prepares them for someone else, maybe for goldfish, maybe for another person given a sea-inspired nickname, expecting to enjoy watching how familiar face twitches with terror as he jumps into the scene and tightly embraces passing student.

But no. You were the one who showed up in the wrong place and time as Floyd jumped out from his hideout, scaring you half to death. With a strangled yelp, you sharply backed away. After gaining a slight flush on your cheeks, you recognised who you just bumped into and quietly gasped.

However, he was much more bewildered than you were.

He had never encountered somebody who wouldn’t just freeze under his touch. Jumping away, gasping, muttering half-hearted apologies and flushing? That’s new.

That’s also entertaining.

Even after your quickly disappearance from the scene, his gaze somehow inexplicably started returning to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Visit Mostro Lounge often.

“We’re looking for someone who would like to work part-time for Azul~” Floyd said, sliding poster across the table. He popped up in front of you unannounced, having your thoughts return to dark reality.

“Oh,” you replied quietly, packing your things faster. “Good luck with it.”

You got up from your seat, but the thought of letting you go just like that didn’t even cross Floyd’s mind.

“Ehh? Shrimpy, aren’t you going to try?” he asked, frowning. You winced a little at the nickname he called you, not sure how to feel about it. “You know, you won’t work there for free.”

Azul will grant your wish.

You fidgeted a little, questioning your response. You heard—who didn’t?—rumours that Octavinelle leader could fulfil any request for a certain price. Ones were working for it, others were paying, and lasts were trading their request with Azul’s one.

The thought of having anything just by working in some café made you consider the offer again—this time quickier.

“I will go,” you decided.

“Hooray!” Floyd smiled cheerfully, just as if he won some grand prize in the lottery. “But what could Shrimpy possibly wish for, to change your response so drastically~?” he wondered but didn’t get any answer in return.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be honest.

“Shrimpy...”

You passed Floyd, without sparing him a look. Anyone who has known you for a while would notice that your movements were a bit stiff and creaky.

Once you heard Floyd’s voice, a wave of tiredness struck you as if you didn’t get any sleep last night after working your shift in Mostro Lounge.

There were so many people to serve, so many things to do... and yet, you couldn’t help with anything, still not knowing how everything works, messing up with orders and breaking some plates in process.

Floyd buzzing around you, asking you some random questions (“Shrimpy, have you done it before?”). You answered them quickly, but each of them bumped you out of rhythm, making you forget what you were doing. It also didn’t help that Floyd certainly liked you being disoriented, replying with a shrug and grin on his face at your thundering glances.

So now, after gaining a little trauma from working in Octavinelle’s café, all you could do is ignore Floyd’s presence, silently accusing him of your infamous fiasco.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” he called you again, catching you up. “Are you mad?”

“I am not mad,” you snapped and took an unstable breath. “Look, I just started working, and on my first day I made already so many mistakes—”

“Yeah,” he replied indifferently. “And what with that?”

“...I couldn’t even correctly serve drinks—”

“Oh, stop!” Floyd muffled your mouth with his hand, an annoying look on his face. “I know where it is going. And no, you can’t quit a job, after all my efforts to get you there. It will get boring again!”

“But—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” he corrected his hand on your mouth, now not letting even a sound get through his fingers. “Azul knows that you tried your best. And for these plates you broke, he already added them to your paycheck. You need to practice! Not to give up, Shrimpy!”

You looked up at him, quite stunned by these words. Perhaps he quoted someone from the book or heard someone talking like that...

But it was encouraging. In some way, considering that you couldn’t protest, having your mouth covered. But still, it was encouraging.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Take classes together.

You can have the power of controlling Floyd’s behaviour, making other students’ life easier. Or you two can be a walking disaster.

Turning alchemy lesson into putting random ingredients into a boiler and praying that the mysterious mixture won’t explode.

History classes started being a regular pinching ritual to keep yourself from falling asleep (you are being pinched more, even when you don’t feel sleepy).

In contrast, flying lessons are peaceful. Nor Jade, nor Floyd, nor Azul are fond of these classes. Floyd is much eager to stand both feet on the ground, watching you practice or having you sulking next to him about heights.

However, if you are a calm, shy, or tranquil person, exchanging little notes or drawings will be a little habit of yours. Handing them discreetly under the eye of sir Crewel is quite a challenge, but it also gives satisfaction once the note was given.

Floyd throws away most of your paper conversations, but the ones he really likes, he cherishes them by keeping them with him, stuffed in his pockets. He will be irritated if anyone would like to see what you two were writing about, even if the talk was about new strawberries delivery for the new recipe.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Being ticklish or not.

There are two possible scenarios, whether his new, lovely target is ticklish or not.

If is: prepare for being touched a lot. Observing how you quiver with surprise, when he lightly—he especially makes his touch less fierce, knowing very well that tickling isn’t violent—wraps his hands around your waist, making you hold your breath.

He would tickle you a lot, very often making you cry out of laugh and pain that follows sharp writhing and fidgeting, but never that much, to seriously upset you. That’s some luck in such unlucky situation.

If not: he will try to find other weak point. Or will try to make you ticklish—his hands are particularly cold and pressing them to your warm skin, might make you give him a reaction he would enjoy.

Albeit, if you also won’t return any expression even then, he will seriously search for some other weakness. Slightly biting an ear lobe, whispering next to your ear or anything that could make his smile appear, once he made you put him somewhere between “I despise you with each and every cell” and abstract mumbling with the heat on your checks.

Oh, he loves your reactions so much.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Learn all nicknames he gave other people (you will unlock an option to slightly dish other people).

“Oh Lord...” you muttered to yourself, as your gaze followed scribbled list of names that Jade just passed to you. He willingly connected all student’s names with pseudonyms Floyd gave other people and handed the roaster over to you once you helped him with some kitchen cleaning.

“There are so many, right?” Jade replied with a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure you already memorised some of them, being around Floyd that much.”

You nodded mindlessly as you tried to get names into your head. You mouthed them soundlessly one by one, motivated to learn them by the end of the week.

The chuckle that escaped Jade’s lips startled you, and you realised that he still was in the room. Or that you didn’t leave the Lounge even after your shift has already ended.

“My brother surely didn’t exaggerate anything about you,” he said, his tone a bit more buoyant than ever, although you couldn’t be sure as the thick air of mystery still echoed in his voice. “I wonder how it will finally end?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Always share your takoyaki with him.

“What are you hiding, Shrimpy?”

You shuddered at a voice that you did not want to hear at this moment, not for all the world. Unless that the world included a chest filled with takoyaki, which you could give to certain somebody.

You felt that instead of a shashlik of tasty balls, you were holding a knife in your hands, a veritable proof of a crime you had committed. It weighed heavily in your grip, and Floyd's approaching footsteps did not make your situation any better.

It was a time to hide the evidence.

You pushed as much as you could into your mouth and swallowed a few balls without even gnawing them much. You almost choked on them.

“Me? I?” you asked innocently. You sincerely hoped that no sauce or a stray piece of cake was left on your face. “What could I possibly hide?”

"Hmm, hmm~," he drew closer, and you needed all your will gathered, to make yourself stay where you were. Even without looking in the mirror, you knew you were all pale on the face. “With my little eye, I spy something...”

His gaze went down, just to your hands, which you tried to hide behind your back.

Not giving him a clear look at your palms or wooden stick, you turned around on the heel and run with all your might. Your muscles felt somehow stiff as if they also didn’t see a chance to win this race.

Now Floyd was sure you are hiding something, and there is no chance he’ll let it go.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Watch him at his basketball practice.

81:30 for the blue team!

“Floyd once again started playing wild,” Ace breathed with clear regret in his voice. He glanced your way, frowning at you. “It’s your fault. Please come at practices when Floyd is in my team, not otherwise.”

You laughed awkwardly as he walked away.

A moment later, Floyd reached for a bottle with water and a towel you bravely guarded through the whole practice. He smiled wholeheartedly, happy with the win, water, and your presence.

“How did you like the game?” he asked once he changed from PE clothes and you two started heading towards Octavinelle.

“It was really fun!” you admitted, a speck of amusement appeared in Floyd’s eyes. “The red team didn’t have much time to capture a ball before you got hold of it again.”

“Hehe~ I’m glad you liked it,” he said. “I really like to play basketball, even more than ever, when I know that you are watching! That’s why,” he added, sincerity well-heard in his voice, “you need to come even more often!”

You nodded happily.

You just couldn’t mind it, all that accompanying him.

It was... fun.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Dance, dance, dance!

Heels tapped on the floor and the sound of these steps would probably have spread through the room, if not for the jazz music pounding through Mostro Lounge’s speakers.

Floyd pulled you closer, letting a playful smile on his lips stretch even more. You couldn’t help but smile back, before gasping as he spun you around your axis. You lost balance and would fall if not steady grip around your waist, as Floyd leaned on closer to you, making you bend on one leg more and entirely rely on his touch.

Last notes of melody faded, and you still were in that pose, facing each other. With each second, Floyd’s face was changing from some form of amazement to amusement, finally letting you properly stand.

“Ha... When did you learn to dance so smoothly?” you asked smiling in wonder.

“Hehe~ With legs you can dance a lot more than in the sea,” he answered. “On land, it’s super fun~”

You nodded at his words.

Floyd was a wonderful dancer.

But you can’t be sure if being a good dancing partner is the only thing that made you feel all warm and fuzzy because butterflies still didn’t leave your stomach.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            “Let’s do something fun!”

“Here is your paycheck,” Azul handed you a white envelope, sealed with a stamp with the Octavinelle logo. “And you, [Name], was also working for some request, right?”

You nodded as you stared at the envelope.

Somehow, knowing how stupid the lingering thought in your mind was, you couldn’t bear to look up. If you would, your gaze would probably ignore all the elegant furniture of the room, even the owner of the room, Azul, just to settle on Floyd.

If you saw anything more than his shoes, that stupid thought would make their way outside, turning plans into action.

And Floyd unknowingly did everything to make them come true.

“Shrimpy,” he cupped your face with his hands, judging by his voice he seemed quite... worried? When he made you look in his olive and gold eyes, you started holding your breath. “Are you okay?”

With that question, your strong will to wish for something expensive or practical was broken.

You started fidgeting more, not knowing how to express your thoughts in words. “I think I have a request... a question for Floyd, rather than for you, Azul...”

Azul nodded at first uncertain and the room has fallen into silence once again until you spoke.

“Well, Floyd,” you turned to him, trying your best not to wander your gaze away from him, “Please, take your time with answering, but I want your response to be, uh, honest.”

You were tripping onto your own words, embarrassment soaring in your body as you started to think that you should’ve kept quiet. But Floyd was patient with your answer, as well as Jade and Azul who observed the situation as if they predicted it before.

“I mean- Okay, just answer the question.” You took an erratic breath. “Would you like to—”

“Sure!” Floyd interrupted you before even hearing the whole question. “I would like to do everything with you.”

You stood there, all confused. But, by Floyd’s expression you knew that he guessed what you wanted to say. Face heating up, you forgot about Azul and Jade, who hid a chuckle by turning his head to the side.

“How fun,” he said as Floyd wrapped his arms around you, as if shielding you from other people in the room.

“I won’t share Shrimpy with you, Jade. Not a chance.”

[matsbarzal]

can I please request angst #14 with Petey??

angst #14. "are you going to talk to me or?"

pairing: elias pettersson x reader word count: 1.3k warnings: angst (happy ending)

Elias Pettersson knew he was good at lots of things. He knew he was a good person, a good friend, an even better hockey player. But the one thing he wasn’t good at? Understanding what he had done to upset you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have a relatively good understanding of the stupid things he did, he knew he had made plenty of mistakes in your relationships, easily fixable ones, really. Except this time.

It had been almost four days of complete radio silence, no text, no call, no FaceTime’s, nothing. You had sent him a thumbs up the moment he landed and told you he had landed, and no response since. Elias could easily tell you had been on your phone, snapchat stories and twitter likes popping up on both his feeds every now and then, but he could not fathom why you hadn’t texted him in days.

You had fought hundreds of times before, little spats here and there, petty arguments that just turned into nothing when he brought home your favourite food, but never an argument to the extent that you wouldn’t even text him.

“You alright over there, Petey? Lookin’ a little queasy… oh shit that rhymed, look at me go,” trying to ignore Brock was even more difficult than trying to understand why you weren’t texting him, especially when said blonde was his best friend and could pick up on every social cue Elias was giving off.

“Fine, yeah.”

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, the Swede thumbed through his phone, bringing up your contact card and then exiting out every few seconds. “Y/N still not texting you? You sure you didn’t do anything before we left?”

Tossing the phone onto the table in front of him, Elias groaned as he tried to rack his head for what he could’ve done wrong before leaving Vancouver. There was a multitude of things it could be, there was a spat right before he left the apartment, an argument over moving the cars, which somehow turned into him suggesting that the two of you should get a dog.

The Swede couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment in your last two days with one another where he might have upset you to the point of not speaking.

Halfway across the country, your eyes had barely left the box you had found sitting in Elias’ top drawer since he left. It was all you could focus on, your eyes constantly moving to find the little black box that you had moved to the top of the dresser, its closed lid haunting you, taunting you the more and more your eyes peered to it.

Elias hadn’t made any indications that this was what he was pushing towards, you hadn’t even realized he was considering this. Two years into a relationship, you knew it was possible, but you just didn’t realize how possible.

You loved him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t, but did you love him enough to get married? Maybe. But add in the constant bickering, the continuous fights, the never-ending spats that had no regular conclusion and usually just consisted of some form of idiotic makeup in the hopes the both of you would forget about what you were arguing for anyways.

The silent treatment may have been petty, all of Elias’ texts going unanswered, snapchats only being sent back every time the timer would appear next to your streak. You knew it was childish, and was probably terrifying your boyfriend, but your brain couldn’t fathom what to do, couldn’t fathom what you wanted.

The game against the Canadiens had been explosive, the Canucks losing horrifically, and Elias’ play just an even bigger catalyst to the team. It was the first game you had watched where he hadn’t played his best, the turnovers were consistent, his numbers were down, his penalty minutes were even higher than usually.

And you knew there was a large possibility you were the main cause for his deterioration of play.

Pulling up your phone from its spot stuffed under the covers, you scrolled until you reached his contact name, the little blue dot beside it just an indication of how many messages had gone unanswered in the last few days. Before you even had the chance to send a message through, his contact name appeared at the top of your list.

are you going to talk to me or am i going to come home to an empty apartment tn? not sure what i did wrong but this isn’t fair

You could feel the guilty instantly seep through your body at the text message, your eyes welling up with unshed tears at the message that came through. Elias was your best friend, the epitome of everything good in your life, and something about that just terrified you.

i’ll be here when u get home, ‘Lias. have a safe flight xo

A large sigh of relief left the Swede’s lips when the three bubbles popped up under your name, an even bigger sigh leaving his lips when you said you’d be home when he got there. He allowed his phone to drop in between his legs, his eyes focusing on the iPad in front of him, currently playing reruns of New Girl, your favourite show to watch together.

Almost six hours later, you heard the sound of the lock clicking, the door swinging open to reveal a dishevelled and thoroughly exhausted-looking Elias Pettersson.

“So, are we going to do this now? I told Brock to set up his guest bedroom, I’m not arguing all night so let’s just get this over with,” his keys were tossed onto the centre island, his eyes never leaving yours as you tried to rack your brain for what to say.

“I found the ring… in your top drawer.”

Your stomach turned as you watched the array of emotions fly across Elias’ face; confusion, frustration, anger, sadness, everything smoothing together before he placed a stoic look across his features.

“You freaked out and ignored me for almost five days, because you found a ring in my drawer?” The scoff fell from his lips almost beautifully, his features twisting into annoyance as he looked at you.

“I just… I didn’t know how to react. We argue about everything, ‘Lias. We literally fight about the colour of the sky, and you’ve already bought a ring?”

Moving so he was sitting on the couch opposite of you, the Swede turned so his entire body was facing you, the stoic look now turning into a look of concern.

“Y/N… we fight about everything because that’s just how we are. Our fights have never, ever turned into anything serious. We argue with each other because we both never want to be wrong, that shouldn’t be a reason for you to freak out and not want to marry me one day, my love. Just because I have the ring doesn’t mean I want to get married tomorrow. It’s my grandmother’s engagement ring, Emil let me have it for the day I eventually propose to you. I didn’t buy it, it’s been sitting in that drawer for ages.”

You could feel the embarrassment settling in your stomach at his words, your stomach turning as you tried to think of a response. The only thing you could muster up was an apology, your eyes never leaving your hands as they twisted amongst each other.

His body moved closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your back as he gently pulled you into his side.

“You don’t need to apologize, just maybe instead of going ghost, argue with me instead? Since when are you one to hide your feelings, especially something like that?”

Shrugging your shoulders at his words, you felt his lips press against the crown of your head gently, his hands squeezing your side as he did so.

“Pinky promise that you won’t do that again? Scared the shit out of me and Brock, and Brock never gets scared.”

Pushing your pinky finger towards him, he wrapped his own around yours with a smile small, his head pressed against yours as he squeezed your pinky with his own.

“And quit going through my drawers, nerd.”

“Don’t leave your clothes in the dryer then and I won’t have to put them away for you, Pettersson.”

note: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you enjoy, and it's everything you wanted. it's not too angsty, and it has a happy ending so hopefully that's perfect. <3

[childish-ish]

Yoo! *hands you subway sandwich* I absolutely loved the soulmate AU with Micheal making choices for each other. And I was wondering (if you can/want) what would it be like for Billy Lenz.

hii *fucking devours subway sandwich* thank u so much i love u <3 i would love to write for him! sorry if hes ooc :<

sorry it took so long too, i thought it said lOOMIS AND I LOOK BACK AND IT SAYS LENZ LMFAAAOOOOOOOO then i procrastinated xd its super awkward and weird, im sorry!! i tried- i was on major fucking writers block!!

bro u made me eat a bug dont talk to me

soulmate au.. makin choices fo eachother..

billy lenz x reader

also, just imagine like. a party right before christmas and they dont call the police to help them rather do it themselves, but then 1 girl calls and they're on their way at the end.. ya dig? ALSO I KNOW ITS HIS HOME BUT I DIDNT HAVE AN IDEA SO xd

"Hello?" You answer the phone politely, looking over your notes before closing the book as you wait in silence for a reply on the other line. "Hellooo?" You drag out the 'o' in hello.

"Y/n? Hey, hows'it going. Listen i have this party goin' on and I know you don't have jack-shit to do, so, why don't you come on over?"

Barb! Ah, that bitch.. should i? You thought over the pros and cons as Barb waited impatiently on the other line.

soulmate chooses: go to party.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Streets?" You ask, opening your notebook back up, flipping to a blank page as Barb told you the address. You hang up on the girl and rip the piece of paper off, holding it between your teeth as you lift yourself from your cushioned chair, grabbing your coat that hung on the back and quickly stuffed the address in the pocket of your coat.

eat bug or do not eat bug.

You furrow your eyebrows at the choices. Before choosing 'do not eat the bug'. What the fuck?

Of course you would choose not to eat the fucking bug. You weren't a dick. But your fucking soulmate was. You were totally gonna beat their fucking ass for choosing such choices.

You sigh, grabbing your coat on the way out. Your necessities jingling in your pockets of said coat. You shove your hand in, dragging out your keys, turning around to lock your door. Sighing once more, as you enter your car and start the ignition. You pull out the address. "Can't be too hard, can it?" You mutter, finally pulling out of your driveway.

"Hello!" You wiggle your fingers as a small wave at the unrecognizable woman who opened the door. "Hello." Sge greeted back softly. "Are you a friend of Barbs'?"

"You betcha!"

"Well, I'm Jess! It's a pleasure to meet you.. come on in!" Jess opened the door wider. You see a few other girls chatting lively. A glass or a beer bottle in their hands. You follow Jess.

"Y/n! You made it! Good job." Barb greeted you, immediately handing you a beer you watched her pop open. You grab it, took a gulp, and thanked her.

You spot an ant crawling on the counter by you. Jess and Barb began to argue softly. Background noise.. You debate on whether to wipe it up and eat it. You shake your heads of the thoughts to rid of the possibility of your soulmate choosing-

eat the ant.

You growl under your breath, crushing the ant under your index finger and wiping it off on your tongue. You swallow it with your spit.

Im totally beating my soulmates fucking ass.. you thought angrily, chugging the rest of your piss-tasting beer. Chug, chug, chug! You cheer yourself on.

soulmate chooses: chug.

You chuckle before downing the rest of your cheap beer. Barb hands you another wordlessly. A smirk planted on her lips as she watches you down another.

"You should really slow down, Y/n."

"Eeh come on, Jess." Barb rolled her eyes, tossing an empty bottle into the trashcan. "Her soulmate probably made her chug." Barb defends poorly.

"I suppose.. how about you chug some water?"

"Yeah.. that'd be best. I'm already feeling a fucking buzz!" You laugh, being the lightweight you were.

Soon. You had awoke in a extremely comfortable bed with a small headache.

"It's so quiet.." You mutter to yourself. Dragging your hand over your face before quickly pulling away, realising you already had acne that was beginning to sprout. You stare at the ceiling, glancing at the window. Still night-time. You turn your head to the nightstand. The lamp was on. A small glass of water.

"Awh." You smile at the thought of one of the girls leaving a cup of water for you, quietly closing the door behind them. You immediately sit up and chug the water, tossing in the two pills that lied on a small napkin right next to it. You swallow, lathering the pills up in your spit.

You stretch your arms over your head, before falling back onto the plush mattress layered in bedding. You sigh, before finally deciding that it was time to get up and see what was going on downstairs. If you were even upstairs.. you cant tell. Maybe you were downstairs? You continued your train of thought as you closed the door behind you politely. Not bothering to take the glass with you.

You continue down the stairs, hand sliding down the railing as you slowly step down each step, before noticing the sticky, yet not sticky liquid your hand laid in. "The fuck? Strawberry syrup, L-O-L." You lift it up to your lips, licking. Clearly not thinking as the taste registered.

"Pennies. Blood? Oops." You wipe your fingers off on your shirt, quickly continuing down the stairs. "Baaarrrb?!" You call out, awkwardly. "Oh. Who's the shit-face drunk lying on the floor." You step closer towards the dining area. "Barb? You fucking drunk." You snicker.

soulmate chooses: kick her.

You do so. Not like you had any choice yourself. Kicking her lightly in the stomach, you step away. "What the fuck?!" You shriek, slapping the hand that was placed in your shoulder. You turn around to face a rugged man in a dark sweater and black pants. no shoes? Yet socks on his feet.. "Who are you?!"

The person before you didn't answer before lifting up a single hand thay held a.. glass unicorn? The tip of the horn was covered in a red substance. You could only assume strawberry syrup once more.

"Murderer!" You shriek, grabbing the lamp next to you and chucked it at the offending man who barely dodged it. He screamed back in response before lunging at you; successfully tackling you to the carpet rug.

"I can't believe you, are my soulmate.. well no, i can." You place your index finger on your chin in a thoughtful manner as you stare at the ceiling. "Are you?"

"billy made you eat an ant." he snickers horridly in your ear.

As, Billy, with the biggest cock known to man, squabbled and licked the shell of your ear, muttering about pigs and boobs and pussies, you nod to yourself.

"I can just hand you over to the police, no problem." You hug yourself. "But could I, really? My soulmate. Who has killed people.. Barb. God, you fucking cunt!" You screech, rolling away from him, just to jump back on the wide-eyed motherfucker, wrapping your hands around his neck and your cunt being right over his crotch. Haha.

He gasped for air, short, uneven nails scratch at your hands.

Tables were turned, and you were back on the floor with Billy over you, screaming out profanities.

"I'm sorry, Billy." You apologize falsely. Tears streaming down to your ears, since, you were on the floor.. gravity? "You killed my friend, man. I didn't even know her that long!"

Billy leans over and licks the tears away. You flinch away, before he pulls you into his lap awkwardly, his head dipped down into the crevice of your neck and sniffed loudly before giggling to himself.

"Billy's pretty little pig. Billy's. Pretty pig. Pretty cunt. Pretty, pretty, pretty." He mutters, an odd sense of nostalgia washed over you, catching an odd scent that activated said nostalgia.

"Move bitch. Let me get fucking comfortable." You snap, pulling out of his hold and turning your body around to face him. Crotch to crotch as you wrap your legs above his own.. does this make sense? You wrap your legs around his and he crosses his legs, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you fiddle with his hair.

"Man, you are such a fucking dick. Making me do all those fucking things while i chose nice things for you.." You lay your head on his shoulder. Very much stinky, yes.

"We should dip though. Didn't one of the girls call the police while yo' dumb-fucking-ass was suffocating one?" You pull away, getting a good look at his face.

You wouldn't say he was.. handsome.. but you certainly wouldn't say he was ugly. His skin was.. a sickly pale yellow. His.. fuckimg huge brown eyes stared at you. His cracked lips were curled into a unnerving smile.

soulmate chooses: leave.

"Yeah. Let's go." You stand, offering him a hand.

Billy's blood coated calloused hand makes contact with your own. You gag, covering your lips with your free-hand. "Fucking disgusting." You mutter in disgust, enduring it for the sake of your new partner.

You shove Billy in the back of your car, slamming the door shut and sprinting to the other side, just to slip right before you put your hand on the door.

You swing it open angrily, sitting down and starting the ignition, ignoring Billy's giggles and mutters as he peers out the window like a little kid looking at snow for the first time.

break the window or tap obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, the hint of a smile plastered onto your lips.

tap obnoxiously.

[thenextchapter22]

Angel of the Three Realms

Part 8!! The Last Chapter!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: THE FINAL BATTLE! DUN DUN DUN!

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, Wingfic, Angel!Reader

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: Thank you everyone who followed along with this story, or just joined! I loved writing this so much and I really hope you had a good time reading. Please let me know what your final thoughts are and reblog, like, comment. I honestly did not expect to write this much of this story but yeah I had a good time and I’ll be writing more of this Reader in the future, so be on the lookout for more~ <3 <3

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

_+_

There was something to be said about finding true happiness. It was hard to see a future where you would have such a thing. What was true happiness, though? Each person had to have their own idea of what it was.

For you, it was several little things in one. It was being with these Demons born of Sin, and the Angels, and Solomon, in the Devildom where you were given a home. They all made you a better person. A better Angel, if you were still technically one. You still never knew for sure.

The thing was, as a Human you were basically made into a role model. The Humans had no clue what you were or had been, but they flocked to you as if you knew everything and how to make it better. It was a human instinct, you supposed, as if their souls immediately knew they were in the presence of someone different than who they were.

Despite that, you never took advantage. You moved as if you were one of them, lived as one, but just a little better, to make their lives better. Especially the children who needed you.

You had lived as Human, and an Angel before that, and were now living as a Demon in an odd way. And everywhere there was something different, a hint of danger at school or even traversing the halls in HOL. You had adventures that were unimaginable, entered video games and small worlds, and solved dozens of puzzles that made even Lord Diavolo’s world a better one.

You worked with them, not above them. The change was a welcome one.

Of course, it would be better if you had the courage to be with Lucifer and admit your feelings, but it took this long for you to realize that was just something you’d drag with you forever. You would have to get used to it. The stages of grief it seemed applied to one sided love as well.

And somehow, you had found Acceptance.        

“BEEL!! STOP!!” Mammon shouted.

Pulled from your deep thinking, you turned to see Beel attempting to eat all of the bread for the sandwiches you were making for a picnic outing. It was decided a few days ago, and the three demons in the kitchen with you were Beel, Mammon, and Satan. They were supposed to be helping, but that was okay. You were sure that Lucifer would pop in soon and make sure they did their part.

“Beel, stop that,” you sighed.

He looked at you with a loaf of bread halfway in his mouth. A big chomp later, bread totally gone, and he shrugged. “Sorry. Tastes good.”

You giggled. He was so straightforward as usual. “It’ll be better with the meat and cheeses.”

He licked his lips. “Mmm…. Cheese… meat…”

Mammon leaned over the counter top and rolled his eyes. “Ch. Glad I got extra at the store.”

Satan scoffed. “I’m surprised you even went to the store and bought the bread. Probably stole someone’s wallet, though.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Satan. “At least I did something for the picnic! What did you do, huh?”

Satan raised a brow. He crossed his legs in his seat, and pointed at the basket. “That’s my basket.”

“Yeah, where you stuffed a bunch of kittens the other day. You’re lucky Lucifer didn’t see that. There better not be any hair in the food either!”

Sometimes, it was best to let them argue. You just went on making the sandwiches, smiling. It was just the three of them in the kitchen, but everyone was going to come to the picnic, even the Demon Lord and Barbatos, and Simeon, Solomon, and Luke. All parties would bring food, and it was going to be a feast and a really good time.

Yes, this was bliss. You could honestly not have a better day than this. You kept humming as you built the sandwiches—

Boom!

The entire house shook with reverberations and you held the counter to stay steady. The glasses clanked in the kitchen for a second and then nothing, like something extremely large fell. How strange, you thought. There had never been an Earthquake in the Devildom before.

“What was that?”

Everyone opened their mouths to respond back when there was a chill in the air. It made all bodies in the room shiver, with no draft, but an invisible force. Something had clearly made itself known, and it was a foreboding, cold presence coming from outside. Strong, and large… Was it the Demon King, back again? What else could that have been?

Sandwiches forgotten, everyone went to see what was going on. Lucifer met up with the four of you as you went outside, and then the others came as well one by one as you walked to the front door. They looked extremely apprehensive.

The sky was an orange hue when they opened the door. They all went in front, protective of you, which touched you deeply. You couldn’t see anything but the sky for a moment, then you heard everyone gasp and stiffen up. What had happened?

You pushed your way through their rigid bodies to find out, and froze on the top step of the house.

Standing there, in the lawn, was Michael… and an army of Angels. There had to be almost a hundred of them. All in battle gear, stern-faced, wings out and dipped in gold at the tips to cut. A true sign of War. But Michael, he was standing tall, wings folded neatly behind, and sword on hip.

“Michael,” you whispered.

How? Why? This wasn’t possible.

Lucifer transformed in seconds into his demon form. He stepped down and stood before Michael, who looked pissed off. The energy clashing between them was unhinged. If it was seeable, it would be like looking into the Eye of a Storm.

The eldest brother nearly growled, “How did you get here, Michael?”

Michael grinned. He looked mad. “I used a transportation spell.”

“There is not…” Lucifer’s eyes widened, taken aback. “You used that spell?”

The Angel gestured behind himself, and tilted his head slightly. “My followers will give themselves to my cause, and some will even give their lives. This particular one gave his to create the portal. A willing subject, and an entire Angel’s body and blood. Easy spell, easily made portal to the Devildom.”

You knew of the spell. It was a Forbidden one. He had basically killed an Angel. His own kin, forced to commit suicide to create a portal to come here, for what reason?

This was madness. This was a nightmare you had to wake up from now. Michael was someone you left in the past, he had no access to you here, or to your family. Yet he wormed his way here just has he had when he made that spell and went to the Human world to force everyone to forget you.

“Why?”

All eyes turned to you, and you realized you spoke that aloud. You really didn’t want the attention on you, but this was your chance. And so, you continued to speak, albeit a little shaky while looking at Michael. “Why did you do this, to me, to my friends?”

Michael sighed like it inconvenienced him to have that asked. “I really don’t care much to explain it, but considering you are about to meet your end, I’ll give a short explanation. So cliché, you really are not the brightest Angel are you? But then again, are you even an Angel, without a Halo?” He grinned.

Lucifer’s aura flickered in anger. “Get on with it.”

You took note of the others. They had transformed as well, and surrounded you in a half circle behind you and on each side, while Lucifer was the one between you and Michael. A shield of demons.

Michael stepped forward, and waved his hands as he spoke, glancing around at everyone, all the while Lucifer’s eyes followed his every move as he did this. “Several hundred centuries ago, I had my personal seer glimpse into the future of my world. All was well, I was leader of an Army, and Father was proud. Then the vision she had altered, and it revealed the Three Realms connected together in ‘harmony’. Angels and Humans side by side, Demons and Angels as friends… Revolting. Obviously I did not like what she foretold so I decided to make some changes.”

When Michael paused, he turned to stare at you. His golden eyes burning into your own. “And you. You, blessed to be created of Angel blood… turned to complete scum. You, who fled from Heaven to escape the sin chasing so steadfast behind her.” He scoffed, mocking you. “You lived as a Human, pretending to be one of Father’s creations, and still maintained the immortality He somehow let you keep? And then you had the nerve to live with Demons, my own Fallen brethren, to bring ‘peace’ to the Realms when Heaven is clearly above all?”

His armor glinted as he tilted towards you, and he narrowed his eyes. “You are the reason I am here today to cleanse the universe of your immortal and foul souls.”

Your throat clenched in fear. He sounded more evil than the Demons you had surrounding you, so set in his plan to eradicate. You panicked, shaking hands and body, and felt a few hands touch you, comforting you. They calmed you a little, and you re focused back on Michael who was not yet done speaking.

“So after planning for years, I made my spell, and used it on you as soon as you landed on the Surface world. But then seeing this idiotic program ‘Lord’ Diavolo came up with and you being accepted into it? Well, that changed things again. So this is the only way to stop the Three Realms aligning.”

You swallowed hard. “War?” you asked nervously. It was a wasted question, you knew the reply he would make.

He grinned, and patted his long sword in its holster on his side. “War. Death. The end of you and these Avatars of Sin.”

He looked out at the demon brothers and seemed sincerely disgusted with them. “The Fallen. The lowest of low. You all deserve what’s coming to you.” After his jabs at them, Michael turned to you. He smiled, a false kindness in his eyes. “Did you tell him why you left? Your unholy feelings?”

You turned pale. “Michael, no—please.” Begging to someone who seemed to be a psychopath was probably not going to work, but you did have to try.

Michael grinned, flashing teeth like a shark about to bite. He looked at Lucifer, who was darkened with infernal magic slithering all around his body. “She loves you, Lucy. She’s madly in love with you.”

The chill that spread through you was unlike anything you’d felt before. This was all you had been avoiding: the utter heartbreak of Lucifer saying he did not feel the same. And Michael, the little shit, had unleashed this terror in you. It was chained up in you for so long now, covered in dust, and unsteady as it was free. Free to tear your heart up. The love you hid was in open waters, and Lucifer, he was going to hurt you more than you’d ever been hurt before. Physical pain would be nothing compared to this.

You shut your eyes, braced yourself, and readied for it.

“I love her as well.”

…. What?

There were stunned gasps around you, and a few claps. They didn’t matter.

You swallowed dryly, and dared to open your eyes to look at the Avatar of Pride. His body faced Michael, about 10 feet between them. But his head turned back to you, and his red eyes blazed. His perfect lips turned up, and he smiled at you.

“Truly?” you spoke softly, scared to hear a reply.

There was sadness then, in the downturn of his brow, but he kept a minuscule smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, my dove. I had no idea you felt this way. If I wasn’t such an idiot Demon…” he paused, “I would have admitted my feelings sooner than this.”

For Lucifer to call himself and idiot, that was a lot for his Pride.

You shook your head. Your hands clutched together at your chest, and you so desperately wanted to hold his gloved hands. Feel his winged embrace. “I was foolish, too. I should have just told you how I felt back then in the Celestial Realm.”

“We’re both fools, then. Together.”

You wanted to laugh and cry, because he was so right. It took a moment like this, and Michael of all people, to speak of the love you held for him.

Before you had the chance to say more, there was a streak of blue heading towards you: an arrow lit with Heavenly fire.

Lucifer spread his wings and was a dark blur as he jumped to you and shoved you away from it. You hit the grass on your back, Lucifer on his knees and one hand at your head. It made you dizzy for a moment, but you took a deep breath and shook it off.

Then, it was chaos all around. Lucifer barely had a second to look at you before he was focused on Michael. Mammon took his place standing above you, and pulled you back to your fortress of protective Demons quick as lightning.

“Stay here.”

You nodded at the second eldest. “Yes.”

You had no experience with Celestial/Demonic Wars. You left far before the one that had Lucifer and his brothers Falling from Heaven. You did have a few Human wars, but those were all literal pitchforks and fire and you stayed out of that sort of thing, only assisting in helping the wounded.

Your fortress had been broken soon, with only a couple brothers staying with you in order to fight the other Angels. Belphie on one side with Beel, and Asmo on the other, a sort of triangle around you.

The only thing you could do was watch in horror as they fought. And for several minutes you did this. There were Angels on the House grounds, slain. Throats gleaming with blood, lifeless eyes opened and frightening. Feathers falling all around like false snow. The sounds of swords clinging, and of wings flapping. Arrows flew, some tried to get you but you protectors were fast and snapped them in pieces or hit them away with a burst of magic.

Mammon was quick, and Levi was fierce. Satan was his namesake, full of Wrath. They were unstoppable, knocking down Angels left and right. They killed, marred, and snapped necks. It was brutal. It was War.

There was no surprise when Simeon and Luke showed up with Solomon, and there was no time to explain what was going on, but it was clear to them who to fight. Luke, of course, took shelter with you, and you held his hand as he hid his face in your side. He was a baby compared to the others, and you didn’t want him to see the blood bath that was currently happening.

Solomon, in full Sorcerer garb, chanted spell after spell. Barriers of magic flew around, entrapping Angels or sending them through portals. You happened to see into one, and it burned with flames so bright you had to blink for several seconds to get the flickering fires out of your vision.

Simeon flew above you with Lucifer, and they surrounded Michael. He used his magic and fought, but Simeon and Lucifer had their own and it clashed together. Michael also used his sword, but Lucifer’s Infernal magic wouldn’t let the sword hit, pushing it back. The Angel roared, pissed, and slammed his body into Simeon.

You cried out as they fell together in a tumble, fists and magic fighting together. They pushed each other apart seconds before they hit the ground. Simeon’s face had blood on it, and your heart pounded, he was like a father to you, he took great care of you. The mere sight of him injured was making you weak.

Lucifer was above Michael, and he dove down with a quick burst of his four dark wings to slam his fists to Michael’s head. But the Angel was fast, too, and was gone, and Lucifer landed in an empty space.

It was in mere seconds what happened next. Michael flew to Simeon low on the ground, gliding over the grass, and pushed him so hard in his chest that he landed far away with a loud thud.

Several seconds passed. Simeon did not get up.

You fell to your knees, and bawled. “Please, no, no, no—not Simeon, please,” you sobbed.

Luke panicked in your arms, and begged to see, to go help him. You would not let him go. He struggled in your embrace, and you realized you clutched him like a child would a teddy bear. But it was for his own good.

Asmodeus put his hand on your head, and smiled down at you. “He’s okay, I promise. I can still feel him. It’s weak but there, his heart beat.”

“You can?” you asked. You focused, and it was a small force. But it would grow, Simeon was a strong Angel. Michael had only knocked him out it seemed.

You sighed in relief. This was too much. You felt so useless, and at the mercy of whatever Michael and his Army wanted. Battle was not in your blood.

“Michael!” A large booming voice echoed the area.

Lord Diavolo and Barbatos had arrived through a portal. The Demon Lord was in full form, and fierce looking. Battle ready with his gold jewelry and buff body, he was strong and powerful in energy.

Barbatos was also prepared. His usual butler attire missing for armor of the same colors. His tail was flickering about, and you watched the forked tail closely, it dripped with something acidic looking.

Lord Diavolo spoke directly at Michael. “You have no right to be here. Surrender now, or face the ultimate consequence.”

“Even in the end, you try to be diplomatic.” Michael laughed. “No, I will not surrender. Angels, continue fighting, we will kill all the unholy and unworthy!”

They all cheered, and the fight went on with viciousness.

Diavolo scoffed. He was royally pissed, you could see, and his face was full of calm rage. He was going to kill Michael.

You wanted it, too. You wanted Michael dead and gone. After what he had done, and caused, he honestly deserved it. And this was what the Devildom made you, wasn’t it? But was it so wrong, to want revenge? These Angels came to kill, they should expect it in return.

The Demon Lord and Lucifer battled Michael. It was insane to say that Michael was formidable against them both, but he had prepared for a long time for this. He moved like a fluid force, and attacked with sudden jabs. He got nothing on Diavolo or Lucifer, and they did not hit him. It was all offensive hits or bursts of magic, but then the other side used great defensive moves. Watching it was nerve-wrecking, and a bit difficult as they were so fast in the air, wings and magic flying all over.

On the ground, Solomon, Barbatos and the other brothers fought the remaining Angels. You looked around and saw a few trying to leave, no doubt to kill other demons aside from them.

You pointed to one, and shouted, “They’re escaping!”

Barbatos was there in seconds, and he grabbed the Angel’s neck and held him still, and his tail went through his chest. He fell down, dead, yellow poison and red blood mixed with body parts escaping the gaping hole.

You almost threw up, and took a deep breath.

“Please, I want to see Simeon,” Luke begged.

“I’m sorry Luke, not now. I promise you he’s okay…”

Luke cried. He clung to you, and shook.

In the moment, Belphie’s tail whipped out and blocked a sword from getting to you, and it wrapped around the sword to fling it at the Angel who used it. You thanked him with a nod, and he had never looked so awake before.

All around you, you noticed the Angel’s numbers diminishing. It was down to maybe 25-30 of them. The lawn was an absolute disaster, in terms of body count. So many dead Angels, it made your stomach ache. This was not what was meant to be. If they just left you alone, they would be alive. If they didn’t try to kill Demons, they wouldn’t be killed by them themselves.

“This is the end for you, Lucifer!” Michael shouted into the sky.

No, not Lucifer.

You searched for him, and found him in Michaels grasp in the sky. How, you were not sure. You had been too busy watching the terror around you on the ground, you didn’t watch what was above you. He was held by his throat, and Michael had his a sword at it. The sight had your eyes watering, and your chest throbbing. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

Lord Diavolo was not longer there, where had he gone? You looked for him, and found him herding a pack of Angels back. He was supposed to help protect Lucifer, help get Michael, but he did have an entire land to protect…

So now… now you had to help.

You handed Luke to Beel, the Gluttony Avatar taking him in his arms like a babe, and he frowned. You said nothing. Wings burst out from your back, and tore part of your shirt. That was fine. You felt something building in you, something made from the sight of seeing your beloved hurt, something protective but more. A magic that was blinding, and used all of your influence, and soared up to the sky. Straight into Michael.

The Angel was not expecting that, and his sword was knocked out of his hand, falling to the grass below. Lucifer fell, too, but you saw Mammon catch him.

The Magic gathered inside of you, swirling. You held Michael as he did Lucifer, by the throat. He thrashed and bat his wings, but you ignored the pain, the gashes he created. Your eyes burned white, your hands burned the same shade, and you let everything just… go.

Wings turned from white to bright blue and gold, shimmering waves of magic surrounded you. What was this power? Unimaginable power, to keep Lucifer safe, keep your family safe. You had to end this. There was one way to end it all.

Could you kill? Did you have the strength, not in magic, but heart, to kill your brother? Even after what he did to you?

Michael, killed by your hand…

“Don’t do it,” a whispered voice called out.

You tilted your head, lost in the influence of this almost static-flame magic. Listening for more from the soft deep voice calling to you.

“You have the power to, but you must not. He will be punished, that I promise.”

This voice, it had been so long.

“…Father?”

Michael was still struggling in your hands. You looked around, and everyone was watching you. The battle had paused, pending what you would do next. Lucifer was looking at you, full of Pride and awe. He smiled, and the just nodded once, firm and sure. He wasn’t telling you to kill, you realized. Did he hear the voice, too?

So, using this magic you gained, you did not kill Michael. Despite all that anger and sadness, you simply put him to sleep. And let him fall about 20 feet to the ground, but still… he lived.

Lord Diavolo was there, and he and Barbatos took him. The remaining Angels, 12 of them, were put in chains and taken away.

You landed on the ground, and let out a breath. With that, the power you suddenly had was gone. With a single inhale and exhale, you were just… you.

The battle was done. Blood was everywhere, dead Angels, fallen weaponry, a stunning amount of feathers. Simeon was awake, and Luke looked him over with worry. You were overjoyed to see him sitting up at all, and smiling.

Drained. That was what you were. Sleep would be nice. Soon, you would pass out, and in time forget these terrible images of bloody battle.

But first, Lucifer.

He was being tended to by Solomon. Sitting on the front steps of the House, huffing and shrugging away from help. Pride, definitely. Adorable, even more so.

When he saw you, he almost stood up. Instead, you fell into him, and held tight. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” you exhaled shakily.

He hummed, his wings encompassing you, though he did wince. “Darling, you are incredible. I love you so much.”

You sniffled. Leaning back, knees between knees, you held his face in your hands. Searching his eyes, watching the glow in them, in his powerful gaze that commanded so much on a daily basis.

And you kissed him. Nothing crazy, a peck really, but it was all you ever needed or wanted. His lips were worn from battle, a little salty from the blood, but warm. A sigh, and you pulled away.

His hands wrapped around your waist and he tugged you in again for one more, and you smiled so wide that your teeth clanked. He chuckled. “You’re so sweet, my dove. So perfect.”

Your wings ruffled from praise. “You’re perfect.” He pinched your side, and you squeaked. “Hey!”

He laughed. “I must tell you something…”

“Okay,” you said, confused. You pressed your face into his chest, taking a moment to hear his heart beating.

“The reason I fell… there were quite a few, honestly. Though, I must admit, part of the reason I Fell at all, was because there was no you to stop me.”

You froze. “Luci…”

He pat your head, and you both sighed. “We can speak later on that. For now, I think we should clean our wounds.”

He was right. But sitting here was like being in your own personal bubble. Still, there would be more moments later, and you would kiss and cuddle him until he could take no more of it.

After the battle, you found out Simeon had taken Michael back to Heaven along with the other Angels, Diavolo opening up an old portal that could only be used if both sides allowed and it lead to the celestial realm. There was no telling what would become of them, but you knew your fellow Angels would take care of what needed to be done.

_+_

The picnic did not happen for obvious reasons. Everyone got cleaned up, bandaged and whatnot. Then helped dispose of the Angel bodies, which was very unpleasant and heartbreaking. You threw up once, and Lucifer directed you to sit down and let them take care of the rest. You were grateful for that.

Then, everyone went to rest in their own space, with the promise of talking at another time. You waved goodbye to the others and wished them well. Simeon most of all, after taking such a hit. He said he was fine, but you knew he was being his usual self.

You went with Lucifer to his room. He gave you a pair of soft sleep pants, and one of his tank tops (the fact that he owned one was shocking). He put his pajamas on, a pair of silk pants and a silk shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his collar. Then you went into his bed, under the blankets, and snuggled close. Your legs tangled with his, and your hips slotted together. Nothing sexual came of this, you were both far too exhausted from what just happened, and you both had a few scrapes that would take days to heal up as well.

He pulled you close to him, and kissed your cheek. “Sweetheart, I want you to know that I am sorry.”

“Why?” you yawned, pressing your head to his chest, feeling his warm skin.

“My Pride kept me from talking to you. Once my memories of you returned, I desperately wanted to confess, but feared it was too late. I assume you thought the same.”

You blushed. “Yeah… I only just recently accepted that you wouldn’t love me that way.”

His arms tightened around your waist, and his fingers pressed into your hips. It was a good pressure, letting you know he was there. “I so hate that you felt that. But I need to hear you say the words. If I wait any longer I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You smiled. Such a stern softy, you thought. You tilted your head upward, and he moved back a bit on the pillow to see your face. The words had never been easier to say. “I love you, Lucifer.”

He cupped your cheek, and pressed his forehead to your own. He inhaled, and sighed. “My sweet dove, I cannot wait to ruin you.” You squirmed and whimpered at his deep tone, knowing exactly what he meant by that. “But for now, we shall sleep only.”

He kissed you once, and then rearranged you to him, folded neatly in his arms, cocooned into him. “I love you.”

The words made your head heavy. Still, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were a virgin. Well, it will come up eventually, you supposed. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t care.

Yawning again, you let the thoughts drift away into dreams, trying not to think about the death that occurred mere hours ago. Instead, you imagined future happier times with Lucifer at your side.

_+_

Pure white greeted you, as well as pure emptiness all around. But it wasn’t bright or blinding, it just was.

“My darling daughter.”

You gasped. “Father? Is that you?” you glanced around from where you stood, and tried to see him.

“I am proud of you.”

You wanted to cry. “You are?”

“Very much. I heard your prayers always. I’m sorry for not answering, but I did not want to misdirect you on your true path. You’re so strong, and if you ever really needed me I would have been there.” He paused. “The original spell, my dear, was broken by me.”

“You—you did that?” When your wings were freed, you assumed that was why the spell broke.

“I could no longer see you suffer. Simeon’s informant was directed to him by me as well. I was always there for you, my daughter, and always will be.”

“Are you… you knew I would leave, didn’t you? And you still let me keep my immortality?”

He laughed. “Yes, I knew. I always know when my children need to follow a different path than the one I set for them. I will always love them, despite their change in faith. That’s just what being a father is, loving their child unconditionally.”

You realized he meant Lucifer and his brothers.

But you had to ask one thing, “Where is Michael?”

“Michael is being punished as we speak. I have locked him in a room where he will reflect for all time on what he has done. His so called Army will be given the same punishment. I was sad to see so many of my children perish, but they made their choices.”

You felt the same pain he did, then. Your fellow Angels, so many dead. But Father was right, the choices they made set this path for them, and it ended in bloodshed and death.

Then he shocked you with what he said next.

“I will also be allowing Angels to love who they wish, only if it does not affect Humanity. You have changed me, my dear, and that is a feat not so easy. I created Humans as a reflection of myself, and my Angels to keep watch over the world, to aid in their growth. For all that you did to aid Humanity on its path to good, I will grant you one favor. What do you desire most of all?”

This was too easy. You smiled at the blank space ahead of you. “I only want to be happy, with Lucifer and his brothers, and Simeon Solomon, and Luke, and Barb and Diavolo. I want to be together and bond with them all. They are my family.”

“You shall have your wish. And, my daughter, know that I love you very much, and I wish you and Lucifer all the happiness in the universe.”

_+_

“Darling, wake up.”

You shuffled closer to the warmth around you, and heard Lucifer chuckle. You opened your eyes to see him sitting up in his bed, hair ruffled and eyes sleepy, and he smiled down at you. This is what would greet you in the morning, you realized. It was incredible, having him so close, so intimately holding you.

You remembered the dream, speaking with Father. That he was the one to release you from your bindings, and release everyone from Michaels hold. The truth that he still loved Lucifer, and his brothers. You knew that Lucifer had different feelings about Father, and that was something very different in the both of you, but you would work past that. Because you loved each other.

Just that same day, mere hours before the Angels came to destroy them, you had thought of Acceptance. Accepting the fact that this would never be. That living this life, without him, was just going to have to be your true happiness. You still had the brothers, and him, just not in the way you wished.

You reached a hand up to press to Lucifer’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, and kissed your palm, holding his own hand against yours to keep it there.

“G’ morning, Luci…”

Yeah, screw acceptance, you thought, and leaned up to kiss him.

[losille2000]

The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

Smokey the Bear (Reboot)

Commission for a lovely person who wishes to remain anonymous! I loved working with your ideas and character, thank you for commissioning me!

If you would like to commission me, please head to my About page, link in my blog description!

~

1.

“But Bellaaa, I want to come too!” Kristopher whined, tailing his sister to her personal flight. “I can be helpful!”

Izabella sighed heavily, taking a cigar out of her box and stuffing it in the corner of her mouth. She wouldn’t light it until she landed, but it was comforting. “You have to stay, Kris,” she said firmly. “There isn’t room in the cannon. And no one is expecting me to bring a little kid.”

Kris, only four years younger than her seventeen years, hit her bicep in annoyance. Izabella smacked the top of his head with the flat of her palm. “I love you, you demon,” she said, and bent to kiss his forehead. “We still have communications, remember? And I’m counting on you to blow some stuff up, alright?” She grinned slyly, and he bounced on his toes, grinning right back. “Make Babushka proud.”

“Yeah!” Kris cheered. “I can help aim the cannon!”

“Excellent!”

Izabella packed her bag while Kris readied the cannon’s coordinates. Everything that could be vacuum-packed, was. Her gadgets either folded or were compact enough to be stacked so no space was wasted. Izabella swung on her bearskin coat, and then attached the bag to her front. After a check with Kris, Izabella slid down inside the barrel of the cannon, wiggled into position, and called, “Aim!”

The cannon turned ponderously to face the right direction. Under the cold winter moon, the landscape was grey as a charcoal sketch. Mountains, trees, brilliant stars…

The cannon adjusted height. Izabella yelled, “Fire!”

(A group of young boys who had made an illicit bonfire looked up in terror as an enormous boom shook the air. There was a small projectile ascending into the sky, twinkling like a star. The boys hastily stomped out their fire and ran home.)

2.

“Tell us what happened,” the grizzled interviewer told the witness, with the perfect stereotypical gruffness.

The witness, the teenage heir to a tech company far too big for him, considered lying. She might come back if he lied. One glance at the interviewer shot that hope down, so he began speaking.

“She was really pretty. Red hair, blue eyes, absolutely gorgeous. She was wearing this enormous, like, fur coat? I mean, I know it’s autumn, but it wasn’t that cold.” The interviewer raised his eyebrow; the witness gulped. “She also had a cigar, a huge one, like a cartoon, y’know? It was legit scary, man. She was Russian, too.”

The interviewer’s eyes narrowed. “What did she do?” he growled.

The witness had a fleeting thought that he didn’t want to be James Bond anymore. “We were at the yacht club, there wasn’t much to do. She was drinking whiskey and smoking that huge cigar and everyone was taking turns talking to her. She was friendly enough, but… when I went to say hello, she said hi back, and while we were talking she said--well, she said I shouldn’t tell anyone…”

“We are the police, sonny.”

The witness nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir, sorry. She told me that the English monarchy was weakening. She said she was warning me, in case my dad was involved in England. Which he is. He’s anti-monarchy. I called my dad after the party--”

“Why?” the interviewer interrupted, looking even more annoyed, if that were possible. The witness rubbed his sweaty palms on his knees.

“Because I wanted him to know. If she was warning me, maybe she wanted to warn him, too. I dunno, okay?! She was nice and gave me this lighter thing--”

“What lighter thing?”

The witness fumbled in his pocket and brought out a thing shaped like an old-fashioned metal cigarette lighter. As he put it on the table, almost slamming it, the lid clicked open.

There was a bark like a small-caliber gun, and out of the lighter came--

--Silly String.

The witness screamed and fell off his chair. The interviewer jumped to his feet and tried to save his notes, but the oily surface of the rapidly-expanding foam had smudged and smeared his ink writing to illegibility.

When two other officers burst in, the witness was curled in a corner, sobbing, and the interviewer was staring into the distance with a grim expression.

“It’s that Izzy girl,” he said, with complete conviction.

(The boy was inconsolable and had to be sent home on a private jet to his mother’s house over the border. When the captain heard the interviewer’s oral report, she shook her head and said, “Red hair? It can’t have been Izzy. She’s blond, remember? With curls.”)

3.

Izabella lit her cigar and puffed on it a few times before entering the meeting room, Kristopher at her side. They were both on their best behavior, and dressed to the nines; Izabella in her sumptuous furs, and Kristopher in a new suit in olive brown. The heels of Izabella’s shoes tapped a brisk rhythm.

“Hello, boys,” she drawled, pausing in the doorway to breathe out a cloud of smoke. She then stuck the cigar back in her mouth and swaggered over to the remaining chair at the foot of the table. Crossing her ankles neatly, her next exhale was in rings. Kris stood at attention beside her, his face emotionless.

“We are not boys for you to command, young lady,” snapped a tall man with a Portuguese accent. The Australian on his left gripped his wrist lightly.

The four other Russian men chuckled softly. “She’s in command, alright,” said Gustav, who was sent to Ukraine when he was small to escape government assassins and still had the faintest accent. “Do not worry. She will make sure we have what we need.”

Izabella smiled brightly, then took off her tall fur hat to reveal a bottle of whiskey balanced perfectly among her curls. All of the men at the table cheered, and drinks were poured for everyone, though Kris’s was watered down quite a bit. When everyone was feeling looser, Izabella said, “I have planted seeds of doubt, and heightened tensions with clever paperwork. Your way to revenge is clearing. Kris, the hologram please.”

Kris took off his watch and placed it neatly in front of her, face down. With a subtle flick of his fingernail, a beam rose and spread, to show an office building slowly rotating. The building was quite normal, except for the eighteen red squares in various strategic points.

“This is my plan,” Izabella explained, leaning forward. “I will compromise this building, after securing the information in its mainframe. And then your men can swoop into the police station while the officers are busy, and take back your mole.”

“Will this work?” asked the Australian.

Izabella smiled and raised her glass. “We shall hope so.”

(After the meeting, the Portuguese man was seen flying off into space, twinkling like a midnight star. No one asked questions.)

4.

The teenager striding down the hall of the office building, talking on her phone loudly in accented English, caused more than one curious worker to stare, baffled.

She was slight and pretty and wore cat-eye sunglasses, her hair perfectly curled, a slinky black dress, and a fur coat that was pulled off her shoulders and bunched up on her biceps. Her brooch was a silk flower, startling in its bright pinkness.

“No, Kris, no!” she was saying as she walked straight into the CEO’s office. “I told you, Mama said to not touch the telephone! If it is the men, they will find you.” She stopped in the middle of the room, and seemed to notice the CEO and his guests for the first time. She smiled, and said, “Hello! I’ll call you back, Kris. Yes, yes, I’ll tell Papa.”

She snapped her phone shut as she pulled it away from her ear, and kept it level with her cheek as she struck a pose and asked sweetly, “Mr. Ama-zone, I presume?”

“Ah. It’s Bezos,” the CEO corrected. “Who are you?”

“Mascha. You talked to my Papa a few days ago. He asked me to come by for your answers.” The girl flipped one heavy lock of hair out of her face, then pulled a paper-wrapped gumball out of her pocket, and let the paper float to the floor when she unwrapped the sweet. Popping it in her mouth, she chewed quickly, then continued, “Papa is rather unhappy, as well. Something about overdue payments.”

The men in suits at the conference table glanced at each other, Bezos, and the girl. Bezos looked rather pale as he smiled and replied, “There must’ve been a mixup. I haven’t talked to anyone from Russia in a long time.”

The girl sighed dramatically and swaggered across the room to lean on the window, so Bezos had to turn to keep an eye on her. This also meant that he didn’t notice the other men watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Mr. Bezoss, do not play games with my Papa,” she retorted. “He will bring his men here, and your company will go poof!” She snapped her fingers for emphasis. “He wants his payment. He wants it now.” She smiled again, innocent as spring. One of the other businessmen was texting furiously; another had laid down his mobile with the mic pointing up.

Bezos cleared his throat, and pressed a button on his own mobile, under the table. The girl’s sweet smile became a smirk. Bezos’s eyebrows twitched, but he spoke strongly. “I don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t know who you are or why you keep dropping hints about a man being angry, so my staff will have to escort you away.”

Silence fell on the office.

The girl took her gum out of her mouth, tossed it into the waste basket, and took a cartoonishly large cigar out of a different pocket. A plain silver lighter was next. She lit the cigar, put the lighter back, and took a deep draw on said cigar, letting the smoke billow out of her nose.

Bezos was sweating. So were his compatriots. More of them were sending emergency texts and alerts.

“Mr. Bezoss,” the girl said kindly, “Perhaps you should check on your staff.”

Every man there jumped to their feet, and pelted for the door. Izabella trotted over and locked it, then gathered all the wallets and personal gadgetry left behind and tucked them into her coat’s inner pockets. Finally, she plugged a tiny USB into Bezos’ computer, and set it to siphon what her employer wanted. It was designed by Kristopher, and made by a Swiss watchmaker they knew. It finished in about three minutes; plenty of time for these foolish Americans to realize the entire building was now blocked from any electric communication.

When the computer binged, Izabella sighed dramatically and sat up. With four key taps in quick succession, she unleashed the virus also hidden on the USB. It began to systematically purge the computer’s data, and spread from there, attaching to every connection it could until the entire building began to shut down, and police started yelling outside the locked door.

Izabella tapped her cigar, and the ashes fell on the specially-formulated gumball, which burst into flame. She smiled at the fire, then turned and drew a glass-cutting blade from her sleeve to quickly slice out a hole in the window that was supposed to be indestructible. Just as she prepared to climb out, she drew her lighter again, and flicked it three times.

Bombs hidden throughout the building began to go off, within seconds of each other, and destroying the structure of the building. Izabella threw herself out the window, landing in the window cleaner’s hoist positioned just so to catch her, and smacked the brake on the rope. It plummeted immediately, and Izabella shrieked with glee as explosions and the rumble of crumbling concrete surrounded her.

(She escaped unharmed, somehow, covered in stone-dust and ash. Gustav and his men had fetched their mole, and when she joined them, they nodded solemnly and followed her to the vans. Later, the interviewer from Alaska (who had been reassigned to California) heard the details and told his captain that he knew it was that Izzy girl. The captain frowned and said, “Izzy? No, no, she smokes cigars constantly. This girl chewed gum.”)

5.

“Babushka!”

Kris and Izabella flung themselves at their grandmother, who laughed warmly and hugged them back, with much kissing of their cheeks.

“Ah, so how are my two little kittens?” she asked, hauling Kris into her lap while Izabella sat on the foot stool beside the rocking chair. “How much have you brought your babushka?”

“So much!” Kris crowed. “Almost a BILLION rubles!”

“No, it’s two hundred and fifty thousand rubles, three million American dollars, half a million Lybian dinars, a few thousand in various other currencies, and five pledges of partnership from various governments,” Izabella corrected, and stuck her cigar in her mouth again.

“Ah,” Babushka sighed mournfully, shaking her head. “Ah, my kittens. When I was your age, I was blackmailing royalty and undermining continents.”

“It’s harder now, Babushka!” Izabella protested. “You were a duchess! Kris isn’t even an adult!”

“Neither are you,” Kris sniped.

Babushka shushed them both and stroked Izabella’s hair. “I was teasing, vnuk,” she said, the corners of her wise, bright eyes crinkling. “Tell me what you did to that Egyptian banker.”

“Oh, Babushka, it was amazing! Kris made these tiny microphones with nuclear batteries that I placed throughout the banker’s home, and we got results in three days! The information has been securely transferred to the Yamaguchi-gumi, who will send the final payment tomorrow.”

“If they don’t, I’ll crack into all the bank accounts the family controls,” Kris piped up.

“I used the shoulder-cannon on the man in London calling for the rejoining of Ireland under the English government,” Izabella said dreamily, blowing smoke rings. “Oh, Babushka, it was splendid. He flew up so high, he didn’t even leave a glimmer. I also dropped that pink poison-flower into the double-agent’s brandy, as instructed. He died in about twelve hours.”

Babushka shook her head. “We’ll have to have a talk with the chemists, kittens; that poison is supposed to be quicker,” she told them. “But in the meantime--let’s have some kholodets to celebrate another successful year!”

The two children cheered, and their babushka chuckled again.

(Babushka’s kholodets was made from a recipe passed down since before the Soviets, and most people who were given the honor of tasting it whispered to friends later that it was poisonous and had given them sores in their guts. All of Russia feared the Babushka and her grandchildren.)

6.

The squadron of soldiers stood their ground, as the heavy, pink-painted tank drove toward them with complete disregard for anything else. Other soldiers had given up trying to break its track; this squad would not.

Carefully, one of them set a small, shallow, rectangular dish on the ground. It had wheels much like the tank, and an electric motor. A demolition expert gently attached a very strong bomb. An enlisted soldier brought out a radio remote.

The dish with its bomb jerked into life and whizzed across the bare field, which was scarred and streaked but mostly whole. The soldier with the remote drove the dish with her tongue poking out of her mouth, eyes flicking over the terrain and to the pink tank.

The dish and bomb swooped neatly under the tank.

“COVER!” the demolition expert roared, and everyone dropped back to the trench. She pressed a small button and dove in too.

The bomb went off, and the power of it literally blasted the tank apart at the seams. As the soldiers took deep breaths to cheer, they saw two people-shaped objects flung into the air. Somehow, their voices carried over the explosions of their tank giving way.

“I told you, Bella, I told you they would have a sneaky bomb--”

“Shut up, you’re the one who wanted to save weight with thinner plates--”

The shouting became too faint, as the figures became nothing more than glints in the sky. The soldiers looked at each other uneasily. One of them, a corporal, who used to be with the police, opened his mouth to speak.

“Wasn’t that Izabella, the spy?” whispered one of the enlisted soldiers.

“Nah,” whispered the other, “Neither of ‘em were wearing fur coats.”

The corporal turned around and started thumping his head against the earthen side of the trench in a consistent rhythm. Why. Why was everyone so stupid. Why.

(Later, the corporal was demoted for leading a ragtag group of soldiers from other squads to do something so dangerous. When he pointed out that they had actually been led by a captain, said captain shrugged and answered, “Wasn’t me.” The corporal went to his quarters and got drunk.)

7.

Earth’s atmosphere was a boring place to be, but Izabella and Kristopher couldn’t really come down themselves; they had to wait for Gustav’s air balloon.

Izabella re-lit her cigar and puffed on it angrily. “This is your fault,” she grumbled, the thinness of the air softening her voice to a whisper.

“How is it my fault?” Kristopher snapped, throwing up his hands and immediately bringing them back down with a wince. Space always made his hands cold. “I told you there would be sneaks!”

“Then why did you make the tank so delicate?” Izabella retorted angrily. “Saving weight, saving gas, blah blah blah--Blyat! You’re worse than Anatoli.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that labrat!”

The siblings continued bickering for several hours, floating and turning and twisting. Eventually they grabbed each other’s arms to argue at the same level, and the insults got truly vile, until Kristopher started crying. Izabella growled, but pulled him in against her and hugged her baby brother tightly.

“We’ll be fine, Kris,” she said. “Gustav is too afraid of Babushka to leave us up here forever.”

“I’m cold,” Kristopher sobbed, his tears drifting from his pale cheeks and falling into the clouds.

“I know, bubble-butt.” Izabella pressed their foreheads together. “When we get back to the ship, we’ll sit in front of the heater and watch that film you like, what is it? The Swan Princess? And we’ll drink hot cocoa and design a new tank, and you can tell me all the things I missed, and then we can paint each other’s nails. Alright?” Kristopher nodded. “Good. It’s okay.”

Not even ten minutes later, Izabella spotted the grey-blue balloon rising up to them slowly. “Ah!” she exclaimed, shaking Kristopher gently, “He’s here!”

(Returning to their base of operations on the warship, they did indeed watch The Swan Princess in front of the radiator, drinking hot cocoa. Gustav watched from the doorway for a moment, smiling softly, then walked away, leaving his children in peace.)

[sunriseintropicisle]

Things that makes me happier

I gave up posting number in front of my post title, initially it was to mark whether I reach the goal of posting a writing every week, which made me had to post 52 writings for the year of 2021, and by this point I am pretty sure I am not gonna reach that number so yes, we can forget it. 

So I personally feel like recently I am in a better state of being, and have lots of idea coming up in my head. While I still religiously write on my handwritten journal, I feel like writing, in case my nonexistent reader would like to know, or give some inspirations. Lol, like who you are. 

No, really, I am just really believe in sharing, and I would love to know if my mundane knowledge or experience be insightful even to only one other person. Because I myself found multiple times that a knowledge/sharing that someone posted online impacted me greatly - hence I am just thinking about the other me who may be seeking the things I am about to say/share. 

Things that makes me happier are:

Intermittent Fasting

I have been doing IF for 2 weeks now, and yeah, it makes me feel good. I started initially because, duh, like everyone else, I wanted to lose weight. Some might want to kick me in the ass for saying such thing, and assure me that I have normal body and yada yada. And, as straight forward as it is - I just want to be as skinny as possible. Hahaha. Maybe it is something to do with me very sold into the standard beauty, or maybe it’s got to do with something in the past - I was quite cheeky. 

However, even though I always say that I want to lose weight, over the years I have never really made the effort. Some days I took it hard some days it just a normal day, me eating this and that and whatnot. But then I have noted the intention of  me wanting to be so skinny, on top of those beauty standard I believe have huge impact in me and a quite hard time in the past for being cheeky is because it simply makes me feel lighter, not holding anything within my body. Because for the context and some TMI, I have a not so good digestion, so yeah. There was a period of the time that I often I feel stuffed and bloated - which felt so uncomfortable, that I can’t stand working while sitting because I felt my stomach is getting on my way.

I tried IF a while back, and it worked for me, so now I decided to try it again now. Intention achieved. I believe it was because the time window for eating that pool all the food I eat in a day to be only consumed for certain times (I do 7 hours, my best convenience). I used to eat on times where, looking back, I was not really hungry, you know. Like breakfast - turned out (I don’t know why I forget about this) that I am not a breakfast person. All through high school I don’t remember myself sitting, eating breakfast in my uniform. 

But then I just picked up a habit of eating breakfast while my stomach is actually not really ready for it, which end up making me feel bloated that last long all through lunch and pretty much for the day - and then without me knowing the new day has begin, and the cycle starts all over. 

So yeah, IF had helped me to be to schedule my eating time which made my digestion works better I guess, and no more me having a bloated stomach constantly.

Quitting Social Media

Finally I succeed in cutting myself with social media. This, I also had tried in the beginning of the pandemic I guess - went on without social media for weeks and at that time I really felt the benefit and all, until I came back to social media and can not disconnect ever since. Even though I have been wanting to detox myself, but at the same time I felt really dependent on it.

It took me one lows moment of life to finally be able to went cold turkey about disconnecting. It was when I felt frustrated on Twitter news where every day it seems like there were a bad news - people died, people lost jobs, people complaining, the news about our incompetent and corrupt government and so on. Without me realizing, it took a toll on myself. Other than that was me who checking in Linkedin constantly at the time and seeing my friends’ profile whose climbing up the corporate ladder, while I was unsure and questioning whether I am in the right place (sounds like the problem of these days youth who lives in their own bubble, yeah?). 

So one Friday where I had one of my breakdown, I went MIA for the weekend to the people who are close to me, as well as to my social media. It’s only been 2 weeks now, but it is safe to say that I can reclaim myself within these times, suddenly lots of thinking came up to me, as if all these times the bad news maybe somewhat oppress it or something. And, I also feel more certain about what is going on my mind/heart. 

I believe quitting social media has its downside as well, as like I really am not having an update on the news (90% of my news source is Twitter - how sad yet could not be truer for most of us), I completely blind on our Covid update I even think that Covid is slowing down in the territory. Yeah, as expected you lose win some as well as you lose some, but for now at leas, I decided to win for myself. 

Olympic 2020

I have never watched Olympic before, as far as I remember. Nor that I care about it. But this time is different. I believe the fact that we are on privilege to be in the safety of home have a huge part in me having the opportunity to watch the Olympic - thanks for that. For almost two weeks I was hooked to my TV, even one time I was on my TV from 6am to 10pm and watched all the games they aired. 

To have the company to watch was a big advantage as well. As now I have my sibling in the house, I teamed up with my sister to watch the Olympic, we both did not know that we enjoyed it so much that we invested in each game we watched. We cheered for athletics, we scream for badminton, we gasped for weightlifting. It was a very fun experience. For almost two weeks I change my work station in front of the TV and so did my sister. 

On top of that, what made Olympic special and very intrigued me was the diversity of the athletes. I guess I just did not exposed to such diversity as it was presented in the Olympic. I was presented with some very foreign countries whose name I hardly heard, or the people whose features were different one another. 

Questions like why some sports dominated my a certain race while other sports dominated by others also popped out in my head. And not to mention my awed to each of these Olympian athletes when they perform their sports, I always wonder what it takes for them to be there right now - how many years of training, how much tears were sacrificed and relationships had to be let go. There were just so many elements of the Olympics that made me really drawn and invested in it. 

Youtube

Surprise, surprise. 

Well, my attraction to Youtube recently was different because of the previous para - Olympic. Because of getting really drawn into the Olympic athlete, I was searching lots of reference videos. And as we all know how we are being spied and we are mere a number for these big tech companies, they get to know me better know and present me with more content that I love (or else I had never discovered). 

I am not sure what I searched previously, but Youtube chose that I now an avid cultural researcher, jk. Yeah, I watched a lot about something culture-related on Youtube because it is funny, looking back, I was once really attracted to be a global citizen and what not (what a flavor of youth!!), traveling the world, meeting people from other countries, make impact in the NGO (before long I know the NGOs are mostly funded by big corporations as well, heart breaking reality for me). 

What I am saying is that the savvy man-made tech of Youtube has made me rediscover my old interest about culture! And I just actually learn that you can learn a lot from Youtube’s comment section, which debates often open up you to things which are (1) people can comment based on data and have every intention to educate other people; and (2) people more often be ignorant, and how much you are on the right stance, with the wrong people, you can still be, yeah wrong. 

Somehow the lesson I gained in the Youtube’s comment section was really grounding to me to realize these polar of people, and in the end what you can do is only simply be you because after all, people really will hold on to their own opinion and belief. 

Jigsaw Puzzle 

RECCOMENDED 100/100. Damn, wasn’t it a good choice when one day I decided to try out jigsaw puzzle to entertained myself while waiting my partner to reply my chat message? 

On the one of the breakdown moment I mentioned I believe that I had to have distraction and I thought of either a puzzle or a coloring book. I ended up buying both, but I am positive that I am more drawn to jigsaw puzzle. I first ordered a 1500 piece puzzle and when it first came, I kind of secretly afraid that I will give up. Also my mother being my mother and she was pessimist that I would finish the puzzle. 

But one time I was just playing by myself, not expecting anything or even asked anyone to help me (afraid that I put too much task on other people), yet my sister helped me out, and a while after my mom helped we out as well. Resulting in the puzzle finished in 3 days. Soon after I order new puzzle, and so did my sister. Her order came first and it was a 1000 pieces puzzle, which we finished in 2 hours (boo, it turned out to be too easy), and now we are opening up our 3rd puzzle and tried to work on it. 

I am just really happy that I discovered it, it is really great way to bond and filling time. And every time I successfully put the pieces together - that just very satisfying feelings! I believe I will have more and more puzzle to come in the near future. 

--

I hope one of the thing above will work out for you and make you happier as well as it had affected me. 🤗

[perriewinklenerdie]

Sugary lips (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! So, I guess this is turning into a series pretty rapidly, huh. Well, this timeline is just so fun and easy to write, a true pleasure, I’m telling you. I have one more planned, that doesn’t mean that it will be the last one though, so we’ll see how that goes :D

Here are the links to all the previous parts in the order that is correct with the timeline in case anyone wants to read them :)

~Before we met again (How they met)

~Into your arms (Their date) 

~Sugary lips

~Convincing enough (Claire’s first day working with Ethan)

AO3 link:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21836734

  Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

--------------

„Ugh, is it possible for you to go and take my exams for me?” Claire whined as she let her head fall onto the open book in front of her. She felt the soft touch along the back of her neck that made her shiver. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working.”

“Hm, it would be my pleasure…” Ethan replied, leaning towards her, planting a hot kiss in place of his fingers, tracing a line down the column of her spine. Her low moan made him smirk, his hands making their way to her shoulders, working the knots out of her body. She groaned in pleasure, prompting him to move closer to her, whispering into her ear. “Right after you’re done studying.”

“My god, Ethan, you’re no fun.”

“You’re going to be thankful for it tomorrow.” He smiled, pushing her hair out of the way to look at the side of her face. She opened her eye, trying to intimidate him with her hard gaze, but all she managed to do was make him laugh. “Come on, baby, you can do it. I’ll help you, and after we’re done, we can do whatever you want.”

“Oh yeah? Then I want my candy. And I want it now.” Claire stated as she sat up, shaking her head from side to side, blowing her hair away from her face. Ethan shook his head at her, laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“You’re going to get diabetes if you eat that much sugar that often.”

“I won’t let that happen. Who would be here to annoy you if I died of sugar overdose?” She giggled, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side as they looked down at the book again. They focused on the matter at hand for solid five minutes before she spoke again.

“Ignorance isn’t going to save you, Ramsey. I want that candy, you either give it to me or I’ll go and throw your kitchen upside down to find it. Your call.” He sighed heavily, standing up from the couch to get her a bag of sweets he had stored only for her. He didn’t like eating it himself, he preferred chocolate over anything else, but he knew his girlfriend had a sweet tooth. Just for that reason and that reason only, he started putting ‘candy’ on his shopping list, making sure the shelf in his kitchen was never empty. The moment he sat down next to her, she tore the bag from his hands, digging into it as she started reading again.

“Keep that up and I’ll get jealous of all the artificial substances that you’re stuffing yourself with.” He teased, trailing his index finger down her arm.

Hours passed, filled with textbooks upon textbooks, him quizzing her on every topic possible in every direction possible until he was satisfied with her results. Finally, with a heavy sigh, they both deflated, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh. Her head fell onto his shoulder and his head on top of hers, their eyes closing for a short while.

“If I don’t pass this, I’ll sue them.” she muttered, turning to the side to nuzzle her nose against the column of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap, hiding his face in her hair.

“Tell them that I quizzed you and you passed with goddamn 110%, that should be enough.”

“I don’t know, Doctor, they might say that you’re biased.” She teased him softly, all her energy leaving her more and more with each moment that passed. “Ugh, I’m coming down from my sugar high. Carry me to bed?”

“I told you not to eat so much, but of course, you know better.” He shot back, waiting for her response, but got none back. He didn’t even have to lean away from her to know that she was sending daggers his way this very moment. “Remind me to just give you smaller portions so you can fulfill your candy desires in doses.”

“Are you going to continue on talking about how much sweets I had or are you going to take me to bed? I swear to god, Ethan, you are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“And yet you’re still here, Herondale.”

“That still remains a mystery to me, how do I stand your sarcasm? Oh right, I fight back with my own. My bad.” She bickered, pushing her finger between his ribs playfully as he finally stood up and started walking them towards his bedroom. As they were getting out of their clothes and getting ready for sleep, he smirked, inching away from her.

“You admitted you were wrong. World must be ending.” He raised his hands, preparing himself for the upcoming attack of a flying pillow that she sent his way, laughing as he went over to her side of bed, pulling her to him by her waist, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “We should get some sleep, you have some ass to kick tomorrow in that exam room.”

---- ---- ----

Claire would never know what went down at four am. She would be asleep the whole time, while he tiptoed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleep was what she needed, not unnecessary questions about his intentions of leaving the bed in the middle of the night. Covering her up with their blanket to keep her warm, he padded out of the bedroom, looking back at her one last time.

As he was drinking water in complete silence, his gaze fell onto the almost empty bag of candy that Claire left by the couch. Ethan hated mess, so it was almost an impulse that he walked over to pick it up. Before he could turn around to put it away, his eyes located a chocolate covered caramel candy. His curiosity peaked when he saw more of the similarly looking ones, so much so that he sat down on the couch, dumping the candy onto the coffee table, examining the sight before him.

In a split-second decision, he reached for the first one, not even checking what kind it was, popping the sweet cube into his mouth. The rich flavor coated his tongue, far better than he expected it to be. So much better in fact, that he found his hand reaching for another one before he was done with the first one. And so, twenty minutes later, what started as an almost empty bag, was now completely empty. He could feel the sugar high Claire talked about so often, he could see the appeal of it, although maybe not in that exact moment. One thing he didn’t think through was that it was the middle of the night, and he was supposed to be sleeping. Instead, he felt as though he could go to the hospital and pull of a graveyard shift without even needing coffee. Not ideal.

He cleaned up the wrappers and walked back to the bedroom, getting into the bed and wrapping his arms around her. She stirred a little, falling deeper into his embrace, and he was so sure that he was about to get away with his little sin and just hold her all night until he fell asleep, when she spoke up.

“If your lips are sticky from sugar, I’ll murder you right here and right now, Ramsey.”

He tensed up, unsure how was that even possible that she immediately knew what he did, and she wasn’t even there to see it happen. Breathing in and out, he shook his head, trying to deflect her question, distract her.

“And how would you check if that’s true.”

She didn’t reply and was lying still for a short moment before turning around in his arms, flipping them over so she was straddling him, his hands pinned to the mattress, their faces close. Grinning, she nudged his nose with hers.

“I think I have a few ideas.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his.

Unsurprisingly, they were covered in candy, making her giggle as they kissed. Their fingers tangled together as she kept his hands against the bed. Ethan’s groan made her lips tingle, the intensity of it all took her breath away, causing her to lean back, her eyes closed for a moment longer before opening.

“You’re a dead man walking, Sir.” She muttered, trailing her hands down his arms, pushing herself up into a sitting position, releasing her grip on him. Looking down at him, she could clearly see how his eyes flashed with something darker and deeper, as though he was about to beg her to kill him and thank her afterwards.

“If you want to kiss me to death, I’ll die a happy man.” He breathed, focusing on the way the moonlight created a halo around her head, illuminating her hair from behind. His hands ran up and down her sides before finally resting on her hips, pushing her down onto him as he sat up, reaching for her, pressing his lips to hers again.

She hummed softly, tangling her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands a little. She could taste the chocolate that lingered in his mouth as their tongues touched, time and time again, making them fall into each other, deeper and deeper into their passion. There was a quiet voice in the back of his head, nagging him that he should stop kissing her and let her sleep, but with each movement of her lips, he found himself forgetting, more and more, why.

Ethan moved his hands to the small of her back, his fingers brushing against her backside. He grasped the material of a shirt of his she was wearing, suddenly desperate to feel her closer to him. Claire leaned back for just a second, catching her breath, before descending onto him again, pressing her lips to his jaw and moving downwards, tracing the lines of his muscles with the tip of her tongue. She looked up and into his eyes, smirking as she left openmouthed, hot kisses on his stomach, creating a trail from one hipbone to the other. He let out a broken moan, his head falling back against the bed slightly, panting as he felt her move her hair to the side of her neck, going back to kiss his lips.

“You should probably get some sleep.” He spoke slowly, flipping them over so he was leaning over her. She grinned, stroking his cheeks with her hands before cupping them, pulling him to her again, pecking his lips a couple of times.

“You’re on sugar high, we have to get you tired somehow. Now, come here.” Claire whispered, smiling up at him softly, sparking warmth in his chest as he embraced her once more, kissing her again, one of many times that night.

[typewriterghcst]

Title: A Very Small Wish Fandom: The Cat Returns Characters: Baron, Muta, Toto, Haru, plus some OCs Rating: PGish maybe?? Words: 4724 Summary: A pleading request from a parent whose daughter has been cursed by a resentful witch is nothing truly out of the ordinary for the Cat Bureau— in fact, it might be so common so as to be routine— so why does something feel inherently off about this particular one? Notes: Third chapter of six of a Secret Santa gift for @deedee-sunflowers. It’s about here that the chapters start getting a bit long hhh. Tho I think they end up a little shorter again eventually Anyway, the first task. A lot of different influences went into these parts of the story, and I hope they’re not too blatant or distracting, aha ;;  Also, I forgot! I drew a very small doodle of the little patchwork creatures which feature in this chapter, if anyone’s interested `~`;;

                                    Ch. 3: The Sown Forest

The Sown Forest is near deathly silent, or… perhaps at least it feels that it should be, but the crunching of the snow under their collective feet and an ever-present rumbling ambiance akin to a distant earthquake means there’s little true silence to be had. And even without that unexpected ambient background, something about the place doesn’t feel quite right. In every direction grow thin, white trees, scattered haphazardly and yet also in just the right formation to make the forest seem far too organized, tidy. Patterned. 

No matter where they look, the horizon stretches out over an immeasurable distance, and the white of the sky and that of the level, milky ground meld into one. Only the wispy, bare branches of the trees break up the monotony of the landscape.

“Well,” Baron finally thinks to remark, “The bright red of a holly berry is likely to stick out like a rather sore thumb in this environment, isn’t it?”

“Sure, if you can find the one dumb enough to grow right now,” Muta grumbles, burying his nose into the warmth of the scarf wrapped around his neck and grumpily huddling further into his coat.

“Now, let’s not lose faith so early, Muta. Should we remain positive and keep a cool head about this, we’re sure to succeed.”

“Yeah, that’s what you always say…” More grousing.

“We have only a limited amount of time to triumph over all three of these challenges, and I believe we’ll cover more ground if we split up into groups. Muta, Miss Haru— the two of you start in that direction. Mr. Vanya and I shall take the opposite. Toto, see if you can discern anything from the sky.”

“A berry— even a patch of berries, might be difficult to spot from an aerial view,” Toto responds as a gentle caution. “Even in such a uniform environment.”

“I know, but there’s no harm in trying anyhow.”

Toto nods. Then, more firmly than before, “And how do you propose we find this spot again to inevitably reconvene?”

Ah, bless Toto again, Haru thinks to herself briefly, because Baron looks rather comically bemused by this question, and she and Muta and Toto (if possibly even Vanya, the newcomer that he is) know that this very important piece of information had not occurred to him while putting together his impromptu plan. He gives a pensive noise, one hand going to his chin as the other is planted on his hip.

Eventually, he glances at the trees surrounding them, appearing to have been struck by inspiration, and then removes his hat.

Wordlessly, he hangs it on one of the nearest branches, positioning it just so so it won’t slip off or blow away (though there’s not been even the slightest whisper of wind since they’d arrived). 

“Here we are. We’ll all meet back here in an hour— keep an eye on your own footprints. They’re all four of them different, and they should help to distinguish our separate paths.”

Something in Vanya’s gaze gleams as he looks to Baron’s hanging hat, though he ultimately turns away from it to rejoin the group. Instead, he hops like a particularly excited toddler to Haru and Muta (well, Haru, to be more truthful). In one of his paws is what appears to be a skewered snake or worm, which he wastes no time in handing sloppily to the teen, much to her dismay.

“For good luck! This is a traditional Oostal charm good for finding tricky things. And we need all the good luck we can get!”

Haru looks swiftly to Muta for assistance, but the cat is leaning away from her with an expression that speaks to no less than utter baffled disgust. Well. Strained gratitude it is, then, it seems.

“O-Ohh… You’re right, that’s a good idea— th-thank you.”

Vanya beams in a manner eerily reminiscent of the Cat King before scampering back over to his place beside Baron (and it’s only through their long shared history with the cat figurine that Toto and Muta both glean the subtle apprehension in his own expression, that he is mutely waiting in terror for the fox to hand him one of these traditional charms as well). Vanya neglects to do so, however, and Baron’s subdued trepidation is gone almost as soon as it’d revealed itself.

“Remember— one hour. If all else fails, Toto at least should be able to reunite us.”

With that decided, they start off in their opposite directions, Toto taking wing into the sky.

                                                          &&&

It’s terribly easy to become disoriented in the Sown Forest, Haru and Muta quickly find out. If not for their own footprints, they swiftly agree they’d have long since been wandering in tight circles and not even realized it. The seamless boundary between land and sky and tree has Haru occasionally feeling rather like she’s walking on a spinning top which also wobbles across the table.

She eventually places the skewered… animal Vanya had given her down beneath a tree, shooting Muta an injured look when he comments on it.

“Looking a gift horse in the mouth, chicky? Didn’t think you had it in ya,” he cracks with a sardonic laugh.

“I’ll pick it back up before we head back to the others! He’ll never even know. B-Because there’s no reason for me to actually carry it with me the whole time we’re looking…”

“I’m just picking on ya. You dropping that thing is gonna do wonders for my nose. Smells like a spoiled fish.” Then, with an annoyed huff, he continues, “I woulda thrown it at him— try to give me some stinky dead thing on a stick—”

“Come on, he’s not that bad,” Haru tries, but she knows she doesn’t sound all that convinced herself. And Muta’s not about to let it go without comment, either.

“You don’t sound so sure to me, kid.”

Haru turns in her spot on her heel, feeling lost and restless in a hard-to-define way. The Sown Forest is devoid of rocks and bushes entirely; it’s nothing but thin scraggly trees, and she would never have imagined before now that to scour such a nebulous landscape might prove to be so exasperating. Where does one search for a pop of color when there are no hiding places? 

“...do you get… kind of a weird feeling from Vanya..?”

“Yeah,” Muta doesn’t hesitate to respond sourly. “He’s a tiny, annoying puffball with a bad laugh.”

“N— No, I mean— like an uneasy feeling. Like something is… um, off.”

“Probably ‘cause something is off about him. I don’t trust that puffball.”

The relief Haru gains from such a simple sentence is near indeterminable. She almost leaps in victory.

“I knew it couldn’t be just me! Well, and Toto, maybe, but he was more mum on the whole thing. You know how he is.”

“A gargoyle of few words, yeah, I guess. Real annoying, if you ask me. It’d be a lot easier if everyone just said what they mean instead of hanging on to secrets to keep the peace.”

Distantly, Haru gets the distinct impression this complaint has roots beyond the borders of the current situation, and she’s not sure what to say to it.

Muta, also, seems similarly surprised at himself, and in the end, he chooses to bulldoze past it, circling a few trees in the silence and eventually speaking up, “...Anyway, this Vanya creature pipsqueak is fishy, an’ I don’t like him. I don’t know what he is. Something old. And this place is, too.”

“What about Baron? Do you think he’s being careful enough? He’s wandering around alone with Vanya right now…”

“Eh, Baron’s kind of a soft-hearted ham sometimes, but he’s no peabrain. He’ll be fine.”

“Is that really the best you can do to reassure me..?”

“What? I dunno what to tell you, chicky, it’s the truth.” 

“Yeah, but a little more optimism wouldn’t have hurt,” Haru mumbles plaintively.

“If you want, ya could bust on to the scene and rescue him from the puffball to pay him back. Hey, maybe he’ll start crushing on you, then.”

Oh, that calls for a heated blush. Haru stares down at the snow-covered ground of the Sown Forest, hands balled loosely into fists at her sides, though she’s trying desperately to play it all cool. Unfortunately, she’s never been much of an actor.

“He’s my friend— of course I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Muta’s response of the beginnings of a chaffing laugh is not well-received; Haru spins around to protest, but— 

Something comes shuffling into their space from behind a nearby tree. And something is all Haru can think to describe it as— smaller even than Vanya and Siree, with a long, snuffling snout and a soft, bean bag body. The tiny creature lacks arms or wings of any kind, giving it an awkward, waddling gait. Missing also are eyes and any noticeable ears.

Yet the strangest thing is that it appears to have been sewn together out of scraps of colorfully-patterned fabric, much like a quilt. (It triggers a memory of her mother’s handiwork, in fact, and the very idea of her mother back at home, in the real world, throws Oostal’s alienness into stark relief. She’s so terribly far from home.)

Muta and Haru watch the little thing waddle between them and then down the way from them in silence before looking back to each other.

“What is it, Muta?” Haru asks. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“What, you never had a stuffed animal before?”

“Stuffed animals don’t walk, Muta,” Haru responds with a huff.

“Eh, shows what you know.”

Whatever response Haru might have had to this lazy red herring abruptly trails off, because the funny little creature, having paused for a brief moment, now drops its floppy snout onto the ground and continues on in a faintly opposite direction, snorting softly the whole way.

“It must be one of the rumored inhabitants of the Sown Forest, right?”

“Yeh. Bet it’ll lead us to those rumored holly berries, too, if we’re careful about it.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Baron.”

Muta darts out from beside her with a faint derisive groan. “Remind me to scratch you later for that one.”

                                                          &&&

Following a colorful (albeit very small) waddling quilt animal through an otherwise blinding array of white snow and sky proves to be astonishingly more difficult than either Muta or Haru would have expected. More than once they somehow lose sight of the thing, only to have to stop and strain their ears for its characteristic snuffling breaths. 

“It has two little stick legs and waddles like a sedated duck,” Muta complains at one point when they’ve lost it again. “How do we keep losin’ track of it?!”

“Hold on— Muta, I hear it again. It sounds really close.” Then, after a few seconds spent listening, she adds, “...Actually, it… sounds a little like it’s eating something, doesn’t it?”

This is all Muta seems to need to hear before turning on his heel and starting the opposite way.

“Where are you going?” Haru calls after him.

“I’m out!” He hollers back. “Nothing good comes outta anything that involves weird creatures feasting on stuff, I don’t care what it’s actually— woah!!”

“What is it— Muta, what’s wrong?” Haru dashes in the direction of his voice, fearing the worst. Yet she finds him with little difficulty, and in one piece, poised in the same horrified position a housewife might take were she confronted with a trail of muddy footprints across a formerly pristine linoleum floor.

At his feet, so close he could stretch out a paw and tip the little thing over were he so inclined, is the patchwork animal they’d been struggling to track… and the good luck charm Haru had abandoned earlier, which appears a little worse for the wear.

Muta dashes behind her with an unsteady gait, complaining the entire way. “Ughh, it’s even worse than what I was thinking—!”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Haru tries, even as she takes a repulsed step back at the faint sound of tearing meat and flinches. “...it’s still pretty bad, though.”

It’s as they’re watching from a couple paces away that the little thing lifts its ostensible head to… well, scrutinize them, Haru supposes, though it lacks the eyes to do so. Perhaps there is another, hidden sense that allows it to see in a less traditional manner.

Your trade is acceptable.

Haru can’t quite place it, how she Knows that this is what the creature before Muta and her is communicating, as it hadn’t spoken aloud, nor does she hear the words echoing in her mind as one might expect of a bizarre display of telepathy. Yet, still, the resounding statement is clear.

“O-Oh—” She starts, and her voice is like an echoing gunshot in the silence of the forest, which leads her to whisper her next words, “We’re, um, glad you like it.”

Then, as they watch, it drops its head again and continues tearing delicate slivers off the charm, seemingly oblivious to their presence again.

“Well, now what?” Muta says at her feet. He’s still eyeing the patchwork creature with no small measure of antipathy, but he’s at least not subtly hiding behind Haru anymore.

“I guess we… wait for it to finish..?”

“Great.” Muta sits down with an annoyed huff. “Doesn’t it know we’re on a tight schedule here?”

Haru laughs, but it’s tinged with a speck of nervousness.

If not for the unmistakable noise of flapping wings over the ever present hum of the forest, the resultant wind would certainly give Toto’s arrival away— there’s been not even the barest hint of a breeze since they’ve been searching. The crow perches atop a nearby tangle of branches, cocking his head in a distinctly avian fashion at the creature they’ve run across.

“Ha, looks like you’ve found one of the inhabitants.”

“What was your first clue?”

“The quilt creature down there, mostly.”

Muta, again feeling indirectly bested, only grumbles lowly to himself and crosses his arms. Instead, Haru speaks up.

“It’s taking this good luck charm as a trade for the berry. At least, that’s what it sounded like to me. I guess it’ll… um, show us the way once it’s finished..? I’m not sure how it works.”

“Sounds plausible to me. Baron and Vanya are some ways off in that direction,” Toto also adds, gesturing with his wing. “I’ll go to let them know they can stop searching, and bring them here. Be right back!”

Haru and Muta watch him take off, and for a little while until he’s too far in the distance for them to make out, before turning back to their… companions. It seems in their distraction, more of the little quilt animals had arrived, attracted no doubt by the scent of the ‘good luck charm’ Haru had laid down before the tree.

“They really like this icky stuff, don’t they?” Haru muses in an almost-laugh.

Muta pokes one of them on the top of its soft head, causing it to lose its balance and fall to the side. Grudgingly, he sets it rightside up again. “...Guess that little pipsqueak knew what he was talking about, after all.”

                                                        &&&

Elsewhere, Toto’s return trip hits an unforeseen, somewhat bizarre snag.

“The Very Pretty Vanya Creature does not fly through the air like an unsolicited blown kiss!” 

Baron and Toto share a puzzled, if slightly frazzled, look between them.

“Mr. Vanya, I sympathize if it’s a matter of a… ah, disdain for heights, but the time limit with which we’ve been burdened is perpetually ticking down, and we ought to do all we can to minimize wasted time,” Baron first tries.

“I’m a very careful flier, too. I promise you’ll have your feet on solid ground in no time at all,” Toto also adds.

But Vanya only shakes his head. “It is no matter of fear!” He begins in a manner that says fear is exactly the matter. “It is the principle! Pretty Vanya has no wings. He was meant to stay on the ground.”

It seemed there would be no convincing him. Baron turns to Toto.

“Toto, do you think then that you could fly a little ways overhead and guide us to the others? If we hurry, perhaps we’ll still make good time.”

Before them, Vanya wrings his paws fretfully before finally throwing one arm across his eyes and crying out, “Pretty Vanya must be left behind! He is the millstone dragging everyone else down!”

“N-Now— Mr. Vanya, please, don’t despair—”

“The Most Helpful Bureau must leave me behind,” Vanya insists again, this time without his face hidden, fixing Baron with a determined look. “I said it before, didn’t I? The Pretty Vanya Creature will meet you there in no time, because he is very fast.”

Faced with Vanya’s clear obstinate refusal and the added stress of a ticking clock, it doesn’t take long for Baron to give in, though the veneer of reluctance lingers over him still.

“V… Very well, Mr. Vanya. If you do insist. We’ll go on without you.”

"You will. But there's no reason to worry. It'll be all okay!"

"...Yes. Of course. Be careful."

As they’re flying away, Toto speaks up. “Do you think he’ll make it?”

Baron seems reluctant to answer, gaze distant and unfocused. Coupled with his stilted posture, it gives him the look of someone who is quite diligently trying to avoid jumping to an unpleasant conclusion.

“...It doesn’t matter,” he eventually responds quietly. “I suppose it’s not something which overtly needs his presence.”

“What about covertly?”

“Then we shall hope for the best.”

                                                          &&&

True to Toto’s ultimately fruitless attempts at reassurance, it seems only a matter of seconds when they have their feet back on solid ground, spotting Muta and Haru from the air easily enough and touching down just shy of them in the hopes of not startling the by now bristling crowd of tiny quilted animals surrounding the other two.

“Eh? Where’s the pipsqueak?”

“He chose to find his own way to our location,” Baron first explains in his impeccable manner.

“Scared of heights,” is Toto’s more honest addition.

Muta turns back to the quilt animals with an unimpressed scowl. “Figures. Just make us do all the dirty work.”

“Now, Muta, a genuine fear of heights is nothing to brush off.”

“Yeah, if it’s genuine…” Mumbled under his breath, but distinct enough for them all to hear, and that Baron (nor the other two) step in to offer a defense is telling… but also serves at least to inform them all that they’re all four on the same page.

“What about these little guys? Have they brought up the trade or the berry again?”

“No. I think they wanted to finish off the, um… trade first,” Haru says, looking from Baron and Toto to the gathering of quilt animals scattered about before them. She sits crouched on her haunches with her elbows on her thighs, gazing out at their odd companions with the same detached but amiable curiosity one might reserve for a child’s play.

“Can they really stretch out that one sticky charm enough for this many to have a bite of it?” She eventually notes with some incredulous amusement.

“They’re sure gonna try,” Muta snorts.

Finally, as they watch, in the distance it looks as if there are languid waves in the sea of brightly-colored patchwork, divots in the throng that speak to the movement of only a few individuals while the others part to let them pass.

It doesn’t take long; they soon find themselves approached for an apparent audience with a… particularly diminutive individual which separates from the group, one which also appears to have been adorned with a tattered shawl thrown over its body, which trails like a leaden weight after it (though upon closer inspection, this threadbare train is simply part of the little thing’s frame).

Some of the seams on its patchwork appear to be coming undone. Distantly, Haru wonders what will happen should they truly do so, and— quite swiftly derails her own thoughts before they can wander down distressing paths.

Strikingly, also, unlike the others, this one has been endowed with an eye— a single coffee-colored iris in startlingly familiar, human-shaped white sclera. Situated somewhat strangely off-centered atop its tapered, drooping head, it stares vacantly ahead, half-lidded.

The four of them feel themselves scrutinized by this seeming elder; even Muta has no complaint to offer in an attempt to hurry the process along.

Only one.

Haru can’t quite place it, how she Knows that this is what the little creature before them all is communicating, as it hadn’t spoken aloud, nor does she hear the words echoing in her mind as one might expect of a bizarre display of telepathy. Yet, still, the resounding caveat is clear.

Baron nods stiffly, appearing to have been caught off-guard in the same way the rest of them had. “Yes. Just the one.”

The quilt-like creature responds with some erratic, floppy movements that vaguely resemble an affirmative nod before placing the tapered end of its cloth snout into Baron’s hands, where it drops a single round, bright red berry. It’s about the size of a particularly plump blueberry, though it seems quite larger in Baron’s gloved hands. Seemingly satisfied, the little animal turns then, and begins to waddle away.

“Thank you,” Haru thinks to call after it.

Not too far into the future, they will all four find themselves remembering this particular phrase and wonder furiously why such an innocuous one seemed to have such a profound effect upon the Sown Forest’s minuscule inhabitants. For now, however, it’s little more than a curiosity, when the creature abruptly stops with an accompanying jerk, and then goes quite still.

The others surrounding them, too, copy this one’s motions.

“Uhh, I don’t like the look of that—” Muta starts, but he’s rather abruptly cut off by a hoarse, low-pitched bark which echoes through their surroundings. The four of them instinctively back up in alarm, a sentiment which only grows upon witnessing the little things begin convulsing, tossing their heads into the air and then back down, all the while emitting those same short roars like a baleful staccato.

“That’s loud—”

“I think it’s time we took our leave,” Baron says (he makes a motion to steady his hat, only to belatedly realize he’d left it behind). He’d liked that hat.

No sooner have they turned on their collective tails and fled that the Sown Forest’s inhabitants scuttle and crawl after them in whatever way they can, and despite their obvious disadvantages, the little things are startlingly adept at keeping up with them. Haru doesn’t have the nerve to give their pursuers the thorough, lingering look she wants, too intent on making sure her pounding steps remain even and sound, but the tight-knit mob’s thunderous pursuit is impossible to mistake. It’s not long before panicked discouragement sets in. To everyone’s surprise, it’s Baron who speaks up first.

“We won’t be outrunning them on foot—”

“Good thing we have a gargoyle chicken, then, isn’t it?!” Muta snaps, then calls to said ‘gargoyle chicken,’ “Hey, birdbrain—!”

“Toto’s many good and admirable things, Muta, but I doubt even he is strong enough to carry a full-grown human—”

Haru, overhearing this, burns with the inclination to wildly apologize, all too aware of the cracks of the trees and the deafening crunch of packed snow behind them. She bows her head in remorse, feeling fervently in this moment that her decision to tag along really had been a mistake. She’s so close to contemplating how far she might get should she separate from the group and divert the creatures away… when she notices something rather strange.

“Wait—” Haru gasps, glancing down to herself in a bewildered fashion, so much so that for a fleeting second she stops in her tracks and has to be tugged along by Baron. “I’m not the same size I was— when did I get this small—?!”

Baron sounds just as bewildered when he answers, though he at least moves past it, “Let’s not kick a gift horse, now— Toto!”

“Got it!”

If Toto at all struggles with the effort to carry all three of them, even if Haru has been unexplainably shrunken, then he’s quite gifted with hiding it. He takes off into the air with them, far above the swarming quilt creatures, with no less agility than he usually does, and Baron and Haru spend the next few moments surveying the horde raptly.

“Ya just had to thank them, didn’t you?” Comes Muta’s complaint from his not altogether eager spot in Toto’s talons.

“I was just trying to be polite!” Haru counters just as plaintively, but even she sounds at least a little remorseful. “What kind of place takes words of gratitude as an offense..?”

“They don’t show any signs of slowing down,” Baron notes.

“Are they really gonna chase us all the way to the border?! They barely have the legs to run! You really steamed them with that gratitude BS, chicky.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Haru laments.

“We know you didn’t, Haru, “ Toto tries to reassure.

“Ah, it’s Vanya,” Baron says with a nod in the fox’s direction; he looks quite small (smaller than usual, that is) from their height, rapidly looking between them in the air and the horde of… well, what look to be furious blankets swarming the forest below them. He’s motioning frantically to them to come closer, to land as quickly as they can.

“Is he crazy?! There’s no way we’re landing that close to the forest— if he doesn’t make a break for it, he’s gonna get smothered, too,” Muta says.

Seemingly as an exasperated response to their stubbornness, Vanya points to the forest behind them with an agitated zealousness, or, perhaps more specifically, the perimeter which is teeming with untold numbers of the tiny quilt creatures. The vast majority of them pace behind the line of trees, fretful and overwrought; the unfortunate few that have accidentally tumbled beyond it lie scattered and twitching on the snow-covered ground like marooned fish.

“What’s wrong with them..?”

“Looks like they can’t go beyond the trees,” Toto guesses.

When they land, still uneasy from the agitated mass of patchwork continuing to obsessively tread back and forth just a scant stone’s throw away, Vanya is swift to bound over to them, practically throwing himself at Baron and wrapping his arms around the Creation. If Baron had appeared disconcerted at the mere possibility of being given one of Vanya’s messy luck charms, he’s downright alarmed when being in no uncertain terms ‘glomped’ by the same creature.

“You made it! Pretty Vanya was worried!”

“What’s wrong with the forest’s inhabitants, Vanya?”

Vanya lets Baron go (much to his evident relief) and cants his head in thought.  “The Sown Forest exists as a powerful transformative milieu. Stay too long and one becomes part of it. The inhabitants can’t leave it.”

“What will happen to the ones that accidentally fell out of bounds?” Haru asks, glancing to the small number of quilt animals still lying pitifully just out of reach of the border of trees.

“They will die,” Vanya answers with a shrug. “Eventually.”

“But that’s awful! Can’t we just push them back into the forest..? Will they go back to normal then?”

“Yes.” Vanya sounds confused.

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Haru says, starting for the border with a marked lack of hesitation. “There aren’t that many— it shouldn’t take long, should it?”

“Even less with assistance,” Baron agrees shortly, following after her.

“I guess we’re doing this now.” Muta, as well, trails after the two with a sullen grumble.

“Cheer up, kitty, exercise is good for you.”

“Don’t make me cook you.”

Behind them, Vanya, still holding Baron’s hat as if it were a priceless artifact, watches them leave with a hard to define look, moving just a foot or two from side to side (but never so much as a half-step forward). His tail twitches and flutters in a manner quite reminiscent of an inquisitive squirrel, with the searching mien to accompany it, but he ultimately says nothing and seems to content himself with killing time.

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

Alien Spaceship Pyramids

(Very mild Kwamibuster spoilers. Also on AO3)

-

Alix was not a happy bunny when she went back to the Louvre that evening.

“Did you see me on TV?” Jalil said immediately, jumping up in excitement. “My theory was accepted! I’m so happy!”

“Yeah, I saw it,” Alix snapped. She threw her schoolbag down on the floor and went off to go find her skates – she really had to do something fun and distracting or she would go mad.

“What did you think? Was I okay? I did get lots of followers on my history blog, so I’m glad at least that my theories are gaining traction–”

“Aliens, Jalil? Really?!” She spun round to face him. “You do know it’s possible for humans to build pyramids, right? That’s an actual thing that humans actually can do. I can do it myself, just gimme a few Lego blocks and I’ll happily show you. ‘Alien spaceships’, honestly...”

“But I have proof! The pyramids are so ancient that primitive human technology of the time can’t possibly have built structures as mathematically magnificent as that!”

“They just piled a bunch of rocks on top of each other, how hard can it be?”

“But they’re so huge, and – and – I have other proof too...”

She sighed. “Look. I didn’t care about the necromancy thing, even if it was so cringey that you got akumatized over it. I didn’t care about the Atlantis thing. I got super into the Area 51 thing, if you remember. I get that conspiracy theories are fun. But this? This is a step too far!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like our own ancestors were too dumb to build a freaking pyramid!”

Jalil crossed his arms. “You sound just like dad.”

“Pfffff, dad doesn’t talk like that, he’s way less informal.”

“You know what I mean! Anyway, come on, can’t I count on my own family to support me? I support your skating thing, even though you keep getting injured from it!” He gestured towards the bandage on her knee.

“Jalil, dude. I have supported you through so much. Like that hang-gliding fad, or your weird rivalry with that Theo guy, or that bloody necromancy ritual you never shut up about. But now I’ve had it. Next you’ll be saying the moon landing was a hoax, or the earth is flat, or that vaccines are bad, or that Rena Rouge is Marinette, or... or...”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Rena Rouge is Mylène, of course.”

At the end of her patience, Alix turned away and began walking off to find her skates again. “I’m disowning you.”

“Hey! You can’t do that!”

“I can and I will!” she called out over her shoulder. “Dad was right to give the pocket watch to me! And guess what? I’m gonna go find Juleka’s mum and get her to adopt me, and then I’ll get an actual cool older brother instead! Not a weirdo like you...”

“Fine!” She heard Jalil stomp his foot, like some immature little kid. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Me neither!”

Good riddance – she’d had enough of him and his stupid conspiracies!

 -

 “You can’t just get my mum to adopt you,” Juleka said, rolling her eyes. Well, the one eye that was visible anyway. Who knew what the other one was doing.

“Why not?” Alix asked.

“Because you’ve already got a parent. My mum would have to marry your dad, and uh... yeah. Not happening.”

“But it’s so unfair! You get a cool big brother who’s actually supportive and nice and didn’t try to convince you that Beethoven is an alien time lord when you were only 3 years old...”

The quiet twangs of Luka’s guitar could be heard from where he was sitting out on the deck. Imagine if Jalil could play the guitar? But no, the stupid nerd had to go for drums, and it was so frustrating to have to hear that boring repetitive tapping whenever she was trying to do her homework.

Juleka’s one eye widened. “But Alix, Beethoven really IS an alien time lord.”

“Haha, very funny.” Alix turned away.

“Hey... Jalil is a grown-up, isn’t he? Surely he’ll move out soon and then you won’t have to deal with him?”

“I doubt it. He works in the museum with dad. It’ll be me who has to move out, and I’ve still got years left before I can do that. Meanwhile my brother is on TV going on about alien spaceships while yours is on TV because you guys are in a rock band.”

Couldn’t Jalil be in a rock band with her? Sure, the age difference was a lot bigger than Juleka and Luka’s was, but still! Sibling rock bands were such a cool idea. Why couldn’t Jalil ever think of something like that? “Sibling archaeology team” didn’t have quite the same ring to it, especially when said team ended up getting chased out of the park for digging up all the grass.

“It’s not like Luka isn’t annoying sometimes too,” Juleka said, seemingly trying to put on a reassuring smile. “For example he... uh... hmm... he thinks ethereal wave is better than darkwave. It’s really annoying.”

“Ah yes, arguing over music genres. Jalil thinks the Hurrian Hymns are better than the Jet Set Radio soundtrack and I want to slap him. Like no offence to the Ancient Sumerians but they could really have used more bass.”

“Well um... Luka also won’t use mascara even though I keep telling him it’ll really make his eyes pop.”

“Yeah, and Marinette and Adrien still won’t stop obsessing over him. Jalil fricking wears scarfs indoors. Like, inside when it’s warm. I don’t care about fashion and even I want to nominate him for Queer Eye.”

Juleka shrugged. “Oh, I give up. Luka is a great brother. I’m sorry.”

Alix nodded, getting up to leave. “Never mind. I guess I’ll just have to deal with him then, though I’m not gonna stop giving him the silent treatment...”

Anyway, Juleka constantly trying to make her feel better wasn’t what she needed. She needed a brick wall to vent at who would just nod along and not really care, and let her be as annoyed as she wanted in peace. She needed... ah yes... a certain emo who would certainly be in the art gallery back at the Louvre right about now...

 -

 She hadn’t even made it there yet before hearing the unwelcome voice of Nuisance #1 chasing after her down the street.

“HEY ALIX! Your brother was awesome on that show earlier! Wait come back! Stop!”

Screeching to a halt on her skates, she turned around. “What do you want, Kim?”

Kim did that weird half-dab thing he had been doing all day. “The show, Alternative Truth! How do you get on it? I wanna be on it too!”

She rolled her eyes. “For what? What stupid conspiracy are you going to go with?”

“Well don’t tell anyone but...” He looked around and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think your dad might be Hawk Moth.”

“God, and I thought Jalil was bad...”

Kim didn’t seem to have heard her. “So how do you get on the show? How did Jalil do it? What do I do? Do I need to make a history blog too? I follow Jalil’s one now and it’s really great but he hasn’t mentioned anything about the show yet so...”

Alix made a mental note to remember to block Jalil’s blog from every one of her accounts at some point in the near future. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Go ask him yourself.”

“Well I would, but I can’t go in the Louvre, the security guards banned me after I broke that statue that one time...”

“Oh yeah, that was great,” she said, allowing herself a grin despite how annoyed she was. “Fine, I’ll let you in through the side entrance. But only on the condition that you never speak to me about Jalil ever again.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“Because he’s the worst brother ever and I hate him.”

“Wow, that’s kinda harsh...”

“I don’t care. Now hurry up and follow me, I’ve got a tomato to meet up with.”

She skated off and trusted he was following. He was always bragging about being able to run super fast, well surely he’d be able to keep up, right? If he couldn’t then too bad for him!

 -

 “Alright, go through there,” Alix said, pointing at the corridor that led towards her family’s quarters. “I’m going to the art gallery. And if you get kicked out or arrested by security guards then I’m absolutely throwing you under the bus and pretending I had nothing to do with this.”

“Cool. In return, I’m gonna tell Jalil what you said about him being the worst brother ever and that you hate him. See ya later!”

Kim turned and ran off before she could even process what he’d said.

Wait... he was going to actually tell Jalil that? To his face?

Alix ignored the weird pangs of guilt. Anyway, it was true! Jalil was the worst. She definitely didn’t care if someone told him so. He deserved to be insulted.

Her gut twisted painfully.

No! No guilt. She stuffed a pair of headphones on and skated off towards the art gallery.

 -

 The best thing about Nathaniel was that he just didn’t care. It probably worked both ways – plenty of times he’d been the one sitting here, ranting about something while doodling in that little sketchbook of his, and Alix would just skate around and listen. Now it was her turn to rant.

“Jalil is so annoying! I can’t stand it any longer! His conspiracies don’t even make any sense, he’s just doing it to be edgy and weird and I hate it!”

“Mhm.” Nath didn’t even look up from his sketchbook.

“I never even minded before, but this alien spaceship thing has gone too far. And to think he was on TV, and everyone saw it! It’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“Yeah. So embarrassing.”

“I used to wonder why dad is so harsh on him all the time, but I kinda get it now. He’s just – just so–”

She stopped just short of saying the word useless.

Was Jalil useless?

Well... he had been the one who had bought Alix her first ever pair of skates. Heck, he’d even been the one who bought the skates she was currently wearing.

Nath finally looked up. “Having second thoughts?”

Alix had been so busy venting that she hadn’t noticed the songs that were playing through her headphones, having just put the thing on shuffle and let it do what it wanted, but she suddenly noted the vaguely familiar tones of an ancient lyre.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she looked to see that it was... oh yeah, Hurrian Hymn No. 6. That time when she’d downloaded it just to see what Jalil’s hype about it even was. It was okay, she guessed. Not her type of music, but hey, the Ancient Sumerians only had a limited availability of instruments to work with, it wasn’t her place to judge that.

She sighed and went to sit down beside Nath.

“It’s a bit weird... me and Jalil have never really fought like this before. He just does his own thing and I do my own thing. I... I’m not used to being mad at him.”

Peering over, she noticed that Nath was drawing the pyramids themselves. It reminded her of what she was annoyed about in the first place.

“I just can’t believe he literally went on TV and called the pyramids alien spaceships! Does he even hear himself? I usually stick up for him when dad is calling him out on his dumb theories, but this one just doesn’t make any sense at all...”

“So this is the first time you haven’t taken his side?” Nath asked.

She nodded. “I guess that’s why he’s mad at me too... he’s used to me sorta passively supporting him... I mean most of the time his theories aren’t any more or less zany than the stuff Alya comes up with, so it’s not usually a big deal...”

The lyre was strangely haunting. So much reverb, echoing around like the thoughts in her brain. It was enough to calm her down a bit – probably a good thing, because getting akumatized was not exactly a priority today.

Her phone buzzed. She looked at it again to see–

Ugh, a notification that Jalil had updated his blog. She’d forgotten to block him.

But even as she unlocked the screen and went to do so, she couldn’t stop herself from reading what he’d posted, at least the first few lines.

Apologies to all my dear fans and followers who watched Alternative Truth today, but I am renouncing my theory that the pyramids are the remains of ancient spaceships. I have come to realize that I was misinformed and that there is a high possibility that the Ancient Egyptians really did build them through their own power, and...

What?

“Nath!” Alix leapt to her feet. “Jalil doesn’t believe that alien spaceship theory anymore!”

Nath barely even blinked. “Okay. Cool.”

“How did this happen? There’s no way he’d just stop believing something like that, he’s always so adamant that he’s right! Unless... unless... oh no...”

Was this her fault? Her saying that she hated Jalil, that he was the worst brother ever, and Kim deciding to tell him so, did that really hurt Jalil so much that he’d renounce his own theory? Had her words affected him that much?

“Oh my god I have to go apologize to him.”

“Uh what?”

“I’ll be back later! You keep drawing, I have to go...”

Leaving Nath there confused, she skated off at top speed.

 -

 “Jalil! Jalil, there you are!”

Jalil frowned. “Alix? I thought you weren’t going to talk to me anymore?”

Too much momentum to stop in time, she skated right into him and almost knocked him over. “I’m so sorry I was mean to you okay, I mean your theory was definitely stupid and I’m glad you renounced it but please ignore whatever Kim said, I don’t think you’re the worst brother and–”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the things I said about you behind your back! Kim said he was going to tell you...”

Jalil scratched his head in thought. “That’s the kid with the Tintin hair, right? I didn’t get to talk to him at all, I saw him getting kicked out by security actually.”

“So he didn’t tell you that I said I hated you?”

“No, not at all!”

Oh...

“Well then why did you renounce your theory?” she asked. “I thought it was because I made you feel bad.”

“Something really strange happened to me actually!” Jalil said, his eyes lighting up in the way that they always did whenever he was going to go off on a conspiracy tangent. Alix mentally prepared herself for the worst. “I met a superhero who claimed to come from the future! She had the powers of time travel and said that she would prove me wrong, and so she took me through a portal back in time to thousands of years ago, and briefly showed me the Ancient Egyptians actually building the pyramids themselves. And I know it sounds too good to be true but I promise I’m not lying! This really happened to me!”

Superhero from the future? She was about to say how far-fetched that sounded, when she noticed Jalil looking at her very suspiciously.

“The superhero... looked very familiar, now that I think about it...”

“Uh... who did it look like?”

He hesitated for a few seconds before answering. “...Never mind. Just a conspiracy theory.”

“Is it one with proof this time? Because as long as it’s not as stupid as the pyramid one, I’m willing to hear it.”

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you someday, but just uh... not yet.”

“Um, okay.”

“Anyway, you were right about the pyramid theory being wrong, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“Cool. And I’m... I’m sorry I was really harsh about it.”

“No, it’s good that you were! I shouldn’t be giving all the credit to aliens for things that humans did. And you’re usually really nice about my theories, so if it was something that made you annoyed, then it surely had to have been bad...”

Alix smiled – it was nice to be back on her brother’s good side. “All forgiven. I’ll still stick up for you when dad’s being annoying, I promise.”

“Thanks, munchkin.” He patted her on the head. “I like it better when we’re not bickering.”

“Same.”

Something popped into her head all of a sudden.

“Oh yeah, Jalil? How did you get onto Alternative Truth in the first place?”

“Why do you want to know? Are you going to go on it?”

“What? No! Not me! Kim stans that show, he was bugging me about it earlier...”

“Oh right! Well it was like this...”

He launched into an explanation. Phew – things were back to normal. Jalil could be annoying, sure, but he still helped Alix with her homework, and covered for her whenever she was doing anything she wasn’t supposed to, and cheered for her at skating competitions, and so many other things she was grateful for. In fact, he probably kept her in line as much as she had done with him today. Of course, being so much younger, it wasn’t exactly easy to boss him around without him getting overly annoyed about it. But at least he was still there for her.

Superhero from the future, though... who on earth was that?

 -

 It was several years later when Alix kicked open the door to Jalil’s room, pocket watch in hand.

“Hey Alix, what’s u–”

“The superhero was me, wasn’t it?” she said, deadpan.

“What superhero?”

“The one who showed you the pyramids years ago.”

Jalil’s eyes widened. “Oh – the bunny? You mean that really is you?”

“Oh hell yes, it was me alright. You were being such a twerp that day, it still annoys me when I think about how I had to sit through that stupid TV show...”

“Wait you’re a miraculous holder?!”

Alix didn’t pay him any attention. “I’m going back in time to that day right now and proving you wrong. Your alien spaceship theory doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Wait wait wait you’re telling me my little sister really is a superhero???”

Alix turned back around and walked out of the room. How had it took her so long to put two and two together? Well, whatever. Time to fix mini-Alix and mini-Jalil’s friendship, and put an end to the alien spaceships once and for all.

[angelsfalling16]

Chapter 5 of Friends Don’t Engaged

Read it on ao3

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 2587

Summary: Simon puts his plan into motion.

A/N: Thank you @wo2ash for beta reading! <3

***

Simon

When I return to the flat after talking to Ebb, Penny still isn’t there, but I go into her room anyway.

I know the container has to be in here. The hall closet is stuffed to bursting, so there’s no way that it’s in there, and there’s nowhere else for it to be except somewhere in her room.

Unless she threw it all away. Which is doubtful. They put hours of work into planning this fake wedding, and Penny has kept every notebook she’s ever written notes in, so there is no way that she threw this out.

I flip on the light and look around. There aren’t many places that it could be hiding. The most obvious place would be under the bed, so that’s where I look first, and sure enough, it’s there, filled with all the magazines and papers that a few days ago, I was hoping to never see again.

Right now, though, I’m relieved to see them because I have a plan.

I pull the container closer to me, pop the lid off, and start pulling things out.

All the stuff in here is a symbol of everything that I will never have unless I find a way to show Baz that I’m serious about him.

As I flip through the notebooks, looking over guest lists and seating plans, a rush of emotions flows over me, hitting me from all sides.

This box is full of so many possibilities, and I couldn’t see it until now.

Before, I only saw all of these things as an impossible future, something that would hurt me, but now, I look at it and wonder. I wonder whether Baz and I could actually do this. Could we celebrate our love for each other and spend the rest of our lives together?

It only takes me a couple of seconds to decide that yes, that is definitely something that I would want. I would want to commit myself to him, to a lifetime of showing him how much he means to me.

I would do anything to be with him for the rest of our lives.

Towards the bottom of the box, I find what I’m looking for. Wedding invitations and save-the-date cards.

They’re blank and only meant as samples, but as I look at them, I think that they will work perfectly for my plan. I grab a notebook, the one still open to the guest list, which Penny has already added addresses to, and a few of the cards and start filling out a few of them with a date for over a year from now and one of the two venues that Baz was pretty keen on.

He was trying to get me to choose one last week, and even though I knew which one I preferred, I never told him.

Now is my chance to try to change things.

I only fill out three invitations: one to Penny, one to Dev and Niall, and one to Baz.

None of them will go to someone that will make this hard to undo. Only to the people to whom this can be somewhat easily explained to.

I slide them into the envelopes before packing everything else back into the box and slipping out the door again, this time headed to the post office.

It is a little strange to send mail to my own flat, but I need them to all arrive on the same day for this to work.

This at least gives me a couple of more days to figure out the rest of my plan.

This probably isn’t quite the romantic gesture that Ebb had in mind, but this will just be the beginning. It’s my way to show him that I’m serious about us, that I’d be willing to marry him today if he’d let me.

I know that there are better ways of going about this, but I need to do something big, something meaningful, and really, what else do I have to lose? I’ve already lost his friendship. The worst Baz can do to me at this point is never talk to me again, which is going to happen if I don’t do something.

The next part is going to be a little more difficult. I’m going to have to get him to be in the same room with me so that we can hash everything out. There are so many feelings that have built up between us, good and bad, and so much that has gone unsaid. It’s going to take a while to work through all of that.

I just hope that Baz will be open to it.

***

Not long after I’ve returned from the post office, I find myself sitting across from Penny and Dev at the small kitchen table.

Penny got back from wherever she has been all day about an hour after I got back. I was sitting in my room, a welcome change from the living room, when she knocked lightly on my bedroom door before letting herself in.

She was wearing a serious expression, and I began to worry that she had somehow found that I had gone through the box and sent those cards, and when she spoke, I began to worry a little more.

“Hey, Simon,” she said softly. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

 “Yeah, sure,” I said, gesturing for her to join me on my bed.

“Actually, Dev is here, too, so I thought we could sit at the table instead.

 “Oh,” I say, furling my brow in confusion. “Okay.

I knew that it was impossible that he could have received the save-the-date card that I sent out earlier, but I was struggling to come up with any other reason for why he would be here or why they would both want to talk to me about something.

But now here I am, sitting across from them, and I begin to wonder when they became a team — and when they decided to start plotting together.

They take turns speaking, explaining how they’ve been meeting up and what they’ve been talking about for a few days (so that’s where she’s been all day.) It’s almost like they wrote a script, switching off talking about different points in such an organized manner that I decide not to speak until they’re done so as not to break the flow that they’ve going.

It takes me a while to realize that their plan is to get me and Baz together. It’s surprising because I didn’t think either of them cared so much about whether Baz and I were together. What’s more surprising is they honestly believe that their plan will work.

It could be a good thing, though, because their plan will be a good second part to what I was trying to do. It might even be a better idea than what I would have come up with.

Although, I still have my doubts about it.

“Do you honestly think that he’ll talk to me after all of this?” I ask. “I got mad at him and ignored his calls. I haven’t even seen him since…” I shake my head, not wanting to think about that day anymore. I need to focus on the future and trying to make Baz a part of it. “I’m worried that I’m going to show up and have him immediately reject me without hearing me out.”

“You won’t know unless you try, Simon,” Penny says gently.

“You don’t get it. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to be with me. From day one, that’s all he ever said to me. That it wouldn’t work between us. That we couldn’t be together. Maybe it’s time that I accept that.”

Instead of making me feel better about my plan to talk to Baz, talking all of this through with them is making it clearer that this isn’t going to work. Why would Baz agree to date me after all of this?

“Why don’t you just take a chance and see what happens?”

“I don’t want to face his rejection.” I don’t know that I can take it anymore. I’m already in enough pain. Why would I want to cause myself more of it?

“You don’t know that that will happen,” she says.

I shake my head. “I can’t risk it. It’s better this way.”

“How?”

“He likes you.” It’s the first time that Dev has spoken in a while now, and it catches me so off guard that I freeze, mouth open, the rest of my argument slipping away.

“Dev,” Penny says, giving him a warning look that I am personally very familiar with. “We agreed.”

“It’s the only way. We have to tell him the truth.”

“About what?” I ask.

“Baz has liked you for years,” Dev says, almost matter-of-factly. “He’d never admit it to you because he’s just as worried about rejection as you are, but he’s liked you for a long time.”

“Why should I believe you?” I ask. Even if we’ve grown friendlier, how do I know that Baz didn’t put him up to this so that he could break my heart even further?

But I know Penny would never go along with something like that. She wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, so either Dev lied to her, too, or there is some truth to what he’s saying.

“I’m one of his best friends. He told me how he felt, and I want him to be happy. If that means setting him up with the boy that we fought for years, so be it. As long as it gets him out of his flat.”

“Why wouldn’t he just tell me?” I wonder, not sure if I’m asking them or myself.

“For the same reason you wouldn’t tell him how you felt,” Penny says. “He was afraid to lose you.”

“How long have you known?” I ask her. “How he feels, I mean.”

“I suspected while you were fake dating, but I didn’t know for sure until after you proposed.”

I think about it for a long moment. I want to believe them. I want it to be true. But it’s difficult to believe that Baz could think of me that way. I have to at least try to find out if it’s true. I’ll regret it if I don’t.

“You really think that he’ll forgive me?” I ask warily, starting to give into that small bit of hope. “That he’ll give me a real chance?”

“You might have to apologize and talk through it with him,” Penny says, “but I’m fairly confident that he’ll come around.”

“I’ll do it. I-I’ll try to at least.”

“That’s all we’re asking you to do. We just want you to try.”

“Not now, though, right?” I ask. I need a couple of days to prepare myself. “Could we do it the day after tomorrow?”

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. Just, don’t wait too long or he may be gone.”

“Right.”

They go over the details of their plan with me one more time, and once Dev has gone, I return to my room to try to figure out how I can make this right, what I can say to Baz to fix this.

I really screwed up, especially since I never returned his calls, but I really hope that I can make things right with him.

I want to be with Baz, and that won’t happen unless I fight for him.

I spend the night staring at my ceiling and remembering all of the good moments that I’ve had with Baz over the past several months. It’s like a montage of every moment where we forgot that what we were doing was a competition, and we just let our feelings rule us.

Those were my favorite moments with him.

We’d give in and forget for a while that it wasn’t real.

There was a lot of kissing involved in those moments.

It wasn’t just for show because most of it happened in our room or dark halls or any other secluded areas that we found ourselves in. It was like we couldn’t stay away from each other - and didn’t want to either.

When I was on my own again, I would blame it all on the fact that I was letting my feelings for him lead me to do this, but I wasn’t the only person pulling the other away from the crowd to kiss them.

We wouldn’t even say anything to each other. We didn’t need to. There would be a light tug on an arm, and then I’d find my lips pressed to his, out of the view of other people.

As we grew closer as friends, I found that I couldn’t stay away from him. The line blurred between what we were doing for the sake of competition and what we were doing simply because we wanted to.

I’d see him on the way to the class, and I felt like I had to be near him. Occasionally, I gave into that urge and moved closer to him, my fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging him away from prying eyes. I’d soon have him pushed against the wall, covered by shadows, and I’d be kissing him before he could protest.

There were other times when it was me who was suddenly pulled away from the crowd, Baz’s mouth on mine before I realized what was happening.

We’d pull away much too soon, avoiding each other’s eyes, and be on our way again, never saying a word about what happened.

It has continued to happen recently, even now that we’ve left school. Baz comes over to hang out, and we end up in my room, my fingers tangled in his hair and our tongues wrapped sensuously around each other.

There was one time that we got a little carried away in the kitchen, which Penny did not appreciate too much when she walked in and found me sitting on the countertop with Baz standing between my legs.

I thought that she would demand to know why we were doing that, but she seemed more concerned that we were doing it out in the open rather than in the privacy of my room.

Remembering it now, I can’t help but smile.

I loved those moments.

I loved being with Baz and not caring what anyone thought. I loved thinking that maybe there was a chance.

I want to experience that with him again, which is why I have to make things right with him. And soon.

Hopefully before those save-the-date cards arrive.

I can’t believe I actually sent those out. It was a stupid idea, and it is likely to have the opposite effect of what I wanted.

Rather than show Baz that I’m serious about the way that I feel about him, he will most likely see it as an attempt to continue the competition, much like what I did with the fake proposal.

I just have to hope that talking to him will help him see that it is absolutely serious, that I care about him and want more than this. I have to hope that he has grown to know me well enough not to think that I would do something like this to hurt him or continue a competition that I’ve despised for a long time now.

I need him to give me a chance to explain.

Otherwise, there may be no going back from this.

[thisisthepartwhereyou]

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #3: “The Pitfalls of Thin Walls pt. 3” by JCL

We're back in Sebun's apartment. Raika looks surprised and bewildered. RAIKA: "Wow, I didn't see that coming!" Ebisu on the other hand looks a little shocked. EBISU: "How can they talk about having kids? They're basically kids themselves!" ZAGUAN: "You think Haru is pregnant with his baby?" Eugen shakes his head at this notion. EUGEN: "The way young people carry on these days, I wouldn't be surprised." Bogue on the other hand nods and looks intrigued as he continues to take notes. BOGUE: "I can see it right now: The hidden condo full of playful little wolf-rabbits. Little... I dunno, what would be the therm, 'wunnies?'" -- Haru begins to cheerfully rant while Legosi looks weirded out. HARU: "There's so many pretty flower names for girls you know. *HIC!*" LEGOSI: (She's not poisoned.. She's DEAD-DRUNK!) HARU: "Rose, Hyacinth, Violet, Daisy, Jasmine, Lily... The list goes on!" Legosi tries to inernally calculate how this could've happened. LEGOSI: (But HOW?! I mean I had some sake in the soba, the way grandad always makes it, but...) Haru begins to pout and begins to scratch her chin in a pondering manner. HARU: "Not a lot of names for boys though, that might be a problem... Hazel? Nah, that's such a typical rabbit name..." LEGOSI: (Wait a minute...!) He grabs Haru by the shoulders in order to gain her full attention. LEGOSI: "Haru, focus. If I poured 1,5 dl of sake into the kind of small cups you have at your family's house, how many cups would I fill?" Haru looks confused; warped scribbles of matemathical equations and numbers holding martiniglasses dance around her head. HARU: "... How many?" She then laughs and gives Legosi a playful slap on the arm. HARU: "SILLY! I can't drink that much! I get tipsy from just one cup, six would just slay me!" Legosi looks horrified. -- Fina facepalms. FINA: "Ooooooh now I see what is going on. You can have liquor in yakisoba right?" The rest of the guys look confused. MUGI: "Yeah?" FINA: "I think that Legosi has made a classic mistake that can sometimes happen when you cook a meal for a smaller animal: He didn't take their different size proportions into consideration." The other guys still look confused. EBISU: "I don't get it." FINA: "It's simple: Lets say he made a meal with proportions adapted for a larger animal like himself, with alcohol." Explanatory illustrations pop up behind Fina as she details what she means. We see a chibi-version of Legosi standing next to a stove, pouring the contents of a flask of sake into a wok containing yakisoba. FINA: "Within those proportions, that amount would have virtually no effect on him." Chibi-Legosi proceeds to eat from a bowl of the same yakisoba. He seems completely unaffected. FINA: "But give it to an animal who has a smaller body to process it, that amount might just be much more potent, and make-" We then go over to a Chibi-Haru who eats from the same kind of bowl. She seems unaffected at first. BOGUE: "That poor little bunny more drunk than a skunk on junk outta some trunk!" Chibi-Haru turns red, puts the bowl on her head and starts to dance drunkedly back and forth. We cut back from this illustration and return to the gang in Sebun's apartment. Zaguan shakes his head sympathetically. ZAGUAN: "Poor Haru, poor Legosi. What bad luck!" -- We're back in Legosi's apartment. Legosi looks incredibly guilty, while Haru looks a little stunned. LEGOSI: "I am so sorry Haru! I didn't mean for this to happen!" HARU: "Oh... So that's why I feel strange..." Then she points and laughs at Legosi. HARU: "Haha, you idiot!" Legosi doesn't seem offended though; just sort of relieved that Haru seems to take this in stride for now. LEGOSI: "Don't worry about it, I'll fix this somehow...!" He gets up in a panic, unsure of what to do. He freezes though as he suddenly hears a voice coming through the wall. EBISU: "Make her some coffee!" -- The gang in Sebun's apartment stares daggers at Ebisu, who is holding down his beak, having realized that he thought WAY too loud just now. Fina hisses at him under her breath. FINA: "Idiot...!" Ebisu looks panicked, but then he suddenly spots a coffee jar on a nearby table with the brand Walker's Instant Coffe printed on the side and gets an idea. EBISU: "W-Walker's Instant Coffee, the brew for every couple!" He then proceeds to sing like it's all part of a commercial jingle, set to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round". EBISU: "Dun-dun-dun, just make her some! Dun-dun-dun, just make her some... He gives the others an imploring look. They get what he's trying to do and joins up in his singing. EVERYONE: "Dun-dun-dun, JUST MAKE HER SOME!" -- Legosi hits his fist in his open hand, completely buying into that it was just a commercial playing next door. LEGOSI: "Coffee, that's a good idea!" He turns around and goes over to the sink, where he grabs a percolator. He opens it and proceeds to fill it with water from the tap. LEGOSI: (And I who thought this kind of stuff only happened in mangas or bad fanfics...!) He suddenly gets a shocked expression though. He turns his head back and looks down to see that Haru has walked over and grabbed his tail. She is proceeding to snuggle with it like it was a stuffed animal. HARU: "I've wanted to touch your tail for the longest time! Heeee it's so warm and fluffy! It's like a steering wheel cover in the winter!" Legosi gives Haru an imploring look. LEGOSI: "Haru... Could you please not touch my tail?" Haru looks up at Legosi in drunken confusion. HARU: "Why? Is there poop on it?" LEGOSI: "NO... Because it is making me a little uncomfortable." HARU: "Oh... Okay." Haru lets go of his tail, looking a bit dissapointed, while Legosi breathes out in relief. LEGOSI: "Phew... HUA!" Legosi looks shocked yet again. It turns out that Haru's attention has moved away from his tail and onto the second best THING. Though we don't see exactly what she grabs, as she is off screen. HARU: "I've wanted have my hands on THIS for the longest time too...!" Legosi looks like he wants to die. LEGOSI: (I AM IN A HELL OF MY OWN MAKING) -- Fina has a little blush on her face. FINA: "I suspect her hands found something else to fondle..!" Zaguan looks a little uncomfortable. ZAGUAN: "Maybe this is getting a little too private?" Bogue on the other hand seem to writing things down in a notebook. BOGUE: "Maybe, but you can't deny it's total gold!" -- Legosi is now carrying Haru in his arms towards his mattress, while she sings a tonedead rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You". HARU: "And aaaaah-ah-ha-ha *HIC!* Will alwaaaaays love uuuuuu-" Legosi looks anything but enthused by Haru's musical aspirations. LEGOSI: "Haru please... My neighbors will hear you...!" At this, a text bubble with a large sweatdrop spawns from the wall behind them, illustrating the neighbor's sense of irony. Legosi proceeds to put Haru down as carefully as possible. He leans down and gives her an assuring smile. LEGOSI: "Just lie down here for a while. You'll be back to normal in no time." He's about to rise up, but Haru grabs him by his t-shirt. HARU: "Hey... " LEGOSI: "Hm?" She has a come-hither sort look in her eyes. HARU: "... You're not gonna leave just yet, are you?" LEGOSI: "I, um, well...!" HARU: "There's a pretty girl lying underneath you, intoxicated and vulnerable... It hasn't crossed your mind, has it? *HIC!*" LEGOSI: "Wha-wha-what are we talking about?" Haru raises her other hand and proceeds to caress Legosi's cheek. HARU: "To take advantage of the situation. Full and complete, ADVANTAGE." Haru speaks the last of this line with such a low voice, that it is obvious to everyone except the completely stone-deaf that it is an invite. -- Most of the gang in Sebun's apartment has gone red in the face, the exception being Raika and Zaguan, who looks relatively calm. Fina begins to speak in a nervous and high-pitched voice. FINA: "Oo-ho-ho-ho-kay, maybe we should stop listening now!" Raika waves this away though. RAIKA: "It'll be fine, we all know Legosi. He's too much of a gentleman." Zaguan nods at this. ZAGUAN: "Agreed. He would never do something so clearly amoral." -- Legosi grabs Haru's hand and gently (but firmly) removes it from his cheek. LEGOSI: "You´re drunk Haru, of course I wouldn't!" -- Raika smiles and points at the wall. RAIKA: "See? He's a regular Gregory Peck!" The others look a bit relieved. -- Haru suddenly sits up and looks Legosi straight in the eye, a sudden sharpness appearing in her gaze. HARU: "What if I said I'm not as drunk as you think, and I'd like you to?" RAIKA: "OH HOT DIGGEDY DAMN!" Both Legosi and Haru turn their heads to look at the wall. The sudden outcry is then followed by a loud acapella-styled jingle. EVERYONE: "DUN-DUN-DUN! JUST MAKE HER SOME!" HARU: "What the hell?" Legosi's large, muscular arm moves past Haru's face. She looks up, and Legosi appears to be leaning in to kiss her. Haru swallows, thinking that Legosi is about to accept her invitation. But then we see that Legosi was merely reaching for the pillow next to his mattress, which he places behind Haru. He sits back and gives her mature look. LEGOSI: "I'd say you're still drunk, and it would still be wrong." He then grabs her with both hands and pulls her back, putting her head down against the pillow with a gentle, yet strict, care.   LEGOSI: "Now lie back, while I make you some coffee." He stands up and walks back to the sink. Haru looks a bit annoyed, kind of like a kid that has been sent to bed early because she wouldn't eat hear vegetables. HARU: "... Fine." -- The gang in Sebun's apartment looks relieved beyond belief, almost collapsing from the whole ordeal. RAIKA: "The force is strong in that one..." -- TEXT: LATER, AND ABOUT 5 MINUTES BEFORE SEBUN COMES HOME. Haru and Legosi are now sitting next to each other on the mattress, both holding a cup of coffee in their hands. Haru is much more sober now and looks ashamed. HARU: "I am sorry." LEGOSI: "Don't be. It was my fault to begin with." HARU: "But I acted like a complete idiot... I fondled your naughty bits and asked you to take advantage of me...! God I must be so screwed up!" LEGOSI: "I... Think everyone does something they normally wouldn't do when they've had too much to drink. Or in your case, eat food filled with booze." Haru gives Legosi a sad look. HARU: "But I made you uncomfortable. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Not when you're so nice to me... It's frustrating you know, cause it seems like I can't do anything for you. I just want to do something for you in return and I don't know what..." Legosi blinks. He puts a hand on Haru's shoulder. LEGOSI: "Haru... You know why we can't go too fast. Our instincts tell us one thing, and that is either to eat or get eaten, and we don't want either to happen." HARU: "I know... But our heads and hearts, they want us to do nice things to each other, because that's what people do when they care about each other. I mean, you work so hard to make this work, and now you're making me dinner too? It just doesn't feel fair somehow... It's kind of like Christmas when you exchange gifts; you feel guilty when you don't have anything to give back." Legosi stares at Haru. She sighs, gets up and proceeds to pace back and forth. HARU: "I know it's stupid, but I just feel bad about not having given or sacrificed enough compared to you. I mean you dropped out of school, you're covered in scars, you work your butt off in a restuarant and get involved in all kinds of shady stuff, all for me. Meanwhile, I just keep going to school, I have a good relationship with my family, I don't have any problem with money and I'm not even bullied anymore! I mean be honest with me, doesn't any of that bother you?!" As she turns to Legosi with a frustrated expression, she suddenly trips over the carpet and almost falls over. Legosi reacts with lighting-fast reflexes and catches her. She looks up at him, and he gives her a serious look.   LEGOSI: "It doesn't bother me a bit. What kind of person would I be if I wished my girlfriend's life sucked? You make me feel good, just being you. Coming to visit me, letting me come to visit you and your family, talking to me, looking at me with no fear... You don't have to feel oblidged to sleep with me because I cooked you a meal. This isn't a third world country you know." Haru blinks, then gets a shy expression on her face. She looks away with a wobbly smile and begins to run her finger across Legosi's forearm. HARU: "Hey... Since when did you start to act so adult?" Legosi smiles in response. LEGOSI: "I'd say you're rubbing off on me, and I like it." -- We're back in Sebun's apartment, where the whole gang seems to be nearly moved to tears. Ebisu is rubbing some away as he speaks. EBISU: "That guy is my fricking hero...!" Bogue on the other hand is biting into his notebook with tears running down his cheeks. BOGUE: "I'll have to dedicate my next book to them. They are so inspirational!" Fina smiles with a proud look on her face. FINA: "Gregory Peck can throw something old over himself." All of them look up though as they hear the door opening. TEXT: SEBUN IS HOME -- Haru's ears suddenly flickers. She appears to have noticed something, and she moves her hand up to her nose. She sniffs it and then gives off an amused little giggle. HARU: "Nope, it's still here." LEGOSI: "What is?" HARU: "The smell. I think I was mistaken earlier. It wasn't the apartment. It's probably coming from you." Legosi looks embarassed. LEGOSI: "Oh..." Haru grabs his big hand with her two small ones, takes it to her face and presses her nose against his fingers. HARU: "Don't worry about it." She looks up, and her eyes meets with his. They got more tenderness in them than the entirety of "Love me tender." HARU: "I like your smell..." Legosi blushes heavily and swallows. LEGOSI: "..." (Her touch, her eyes, they're so full of warmth) He grabs both of her hands in his, and begins to lean down closer. Haru looks up. LEGOSI: "Haru..." HARU: "Hm?" She sees in his eyes that there's something Legosi wants; coincidentally, the same thing that she wants. Her eyes begin to glitter with anticipation. HARU: (Really? Now? Is he finally ready, so that we can... we can... finally ki-) She raises her head, he lowers his, they both ready their lips and are about to proceed when: SEBUN: "LIKE HELL YOU CAN!" The sudden, loud voice coming from next door startles them both. Especially Haru, who jumps up and grabs Legosi around the throat. Legosi on the other hand gets so surprised that he trips backwards to the kotetsu, which he violently crashes into.   -- Their screams and the violent crash is heard next door, turning into the exact same scene at the end of part 1. SEBUN: “… Did you say.. That Legosi was making her dinner?” -- We see the disastrous result of the crash in Legosi's apartment. He is sitting in the wok atop the collapsed kotatsu. Both he and Haru, who is lying atop of him, are covered head to toe in yakisoba. Legosi looks tired. LEGOSI: "You know what, maybe we'll just go out and eat next time." Haru looks like she's in a murderous state of mind. HARU: (I am gonna kill that woman next door...!) TO BE CONTINUED...

[starblazerm31]

The Courtiers as Shitty Retail Customers

This HC of mine seems to have gotten lost in the miasma somewhere.  It was an ask I had gotten in response to the Main 6 as Retail Workers HC.

Now...as a note...everything I write here I have seen/happened to me personally. EVERYTHING.  These are not your typical “Karen” stories. 

Content warnings: Bodily fluids (blood, vomit, feces, etc.).  Blatant rudeness.  Flagrant stupidity. THEFT.  Disturbing malevolent behavior.  Unwanted butt pinching.

The Courtiers As Shitty Retail Customers (cont. of Main 6 as Retail Workers)

Valdemar

That customer who leaves unexplained blood spatters ALL OVER the single bathroom.  They didn’t seem injured when they went in...but after they came out, everyone swears they committed a murder in there.  Poor Julian got pegged to clean it up since he’s the one certified in hazardous spills and Muriel was off that day.

The customer who stares at everyone in a really uncomfortable way.  Like...are they planning on slitting someone's throat right here in the store?  Please don’t...the employees really don’t want to have to deal with the inquiry and paperwork.

The customer who will grab a worker and just...occupy them.  Talking.  Oddly.  About anything and yet absolutely nothing.  But still dropping the most uncomfortable TMI.  One time, they grabbed Asra and just HAD to go into explicit detail about how they skin an animal after hunting.  And how much they love Satan.

The customer who will ask a really dangerous request of the worker they swept up just hoping to see them get hurt.  One time, he asked Julian to check on a specific tire which was WAAAAAY up on the top of the huge tire rack.  Chuckled to himself when the tire fell on Julian and almost broke his arm while he was ten feet in the air on a ladder.

Gets really offended when an employee gets too close.  "Come any closer and I'll stab you."  Julian:  "Do it.  Five cameras can see you RIGHT. NOW.

*flashes a knife at Muriel*  Muriel:  "My dick is bigger."

Volta

That customer who grabs food off of the shelf, eats it, then deposits the empty (or half-empty) wrapper/bottle on another shelf in another part of the store.

She once stole some things from the store and got a big head about it.  So she decided to come back the very next night to steal some more.  All the employees were wise to her and watched her very closely.  She stuffed a bunch of items up her shirt and made her way to the door.  Nadia and Muriel were standing there waiting for her.  She panicked and dropped everything out of her shirt in front of everyone (all the employees proceeded to point at her and laugh) and then walked out in a hurry.

When free snacks are offered to customers, she proceeds to stuff her face while spilling the snacks all over the store.  She leaves a trail of chips/popcorn wherever she walks.

Somehow managed to knock down an entire shelf of gallon jugs of water.  The water jugs all exploded on the floor.  It looked like a Noah's Ark situation.

Walked by Muriel and proceeded to suddenly vomit onto the floor.

Will unfold and an entire shelf of shirts (about an hour's worth of work) just to be a bitch.

Tried to steal a "Try Me" stick of deodorant that literally hundreds of people had touched.  Saw that she was being watched by Muriel, so she proceeded to look Muriel right in the eye and apply the deodorant.  Muriel:  "...I hope she gets sick."

*grabs Nadia*  "I think that worker is spying on me!" *points to Julian*  "He keeps following me around!"  Julian is stocking shelves, not even paying attention to her.  "And his body odor is really offensive!"  *Nadia looks to her dubiously*  "I'm sorry about that.  Here, let me fix it."  *walks over to Julian, explains the situation, and then gets on the radio*  "Watch the customer in accessories, they are behaving strangely."  Thirty minutes later, Volta is being escorted out by police for theft.  Julian:  "Body odor!  *huffs* Enjoy the lockup BO you're gonna have tomorrow, bitch."

Vlastomil

Brings in Wiggler.  "He's my emotional support worm!"

Wiggler pees on the floor.  Is asked to take his pet out of the store.  Proceeds to scream about how the store targets the mentally ill.  (Muriel has to go to the back to rage in private with Asra)

Asks about products, and then proceeds to criticize the store for even carrying such  "ridiculous" items.

Brings a fuckload of coupons, and expects them to be applied to clearance items.  Finds out that coupons cannot be honored for clearance items, and leaves two whole shopping carts of random items for the staff to reshelf.

"I can't see myself spending $3 on THAT."

To Asra:  "I'm going to need your employee discount."  Asra:  "So...I can move in with you tonight?"  Vlastomil:  "What?"  Asra:  "Well, if I give you my discount, I will be promptly fired.  I have a snake to take care of.  If I lose my job, I lose my apartment and my ability to feed myself and my snake.  Since YOU would be responsible for my getting fired, I'd expect YOU to take care of me and my snake afterward.  So...I can move in with you tonight?"  Vlastomil:  "...nevermind."

"The handsome manager said I could get this item with a 10% discount because it's not the brand I'm wanting."  Julian:  "Lucio isn't here today."  Vlastomil:  "He said it the other day."  Julian:  "He has to actually be here and tell me that himself, sorry.  He'll be here tomorrow, try again then."

Went into the bathroom.  A few minutes later, came out and grabbed Muriel and said that the bathroom needed to be cleaned.  Muriel looked inside and was APPALLED by the sight of feces smeared EVERYWHERE.  The floor, all of the stall doors, the trash can, the sinks, the toilets.  Vlastomil:  "Yeah, I had an accident."  Muriel did not hide his disgust and went to get the cleaning cart.  Threatened to quit that night.  Muriel:  "This is the kind of stuff DOCTORS AND NURSES deal with!  They get paid at least $20 an hour!  I make MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE!!!"

Vulgora

The customer that snaps at every single employee that speaks to them.

"No one likes (sports team)!  Why the hell do you even carry merch for this shitty team?!" (because there are more fans of that sports team than of the team that THEY like in that particular area)

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S A PENALTY FOR LETTING MY LAYAWAY EXPIRE?!  I WANT MY FULL REFUND!!!"

"RETURN THIS ITEM!"  Portia: "We don't carry this item."  Vulgora:  "YES YOU DO, I BOUGHT IT HERE!!"  Portia:  "I'm sorry, but this item is exclusive to (different store)."  Vulgora:  "YOU'RE AN IDIOT!  LET ME SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!"  Nadia proceeds to tell them the EXACT. SAME. THING.  Vulgora:  "YOU'RE ALL MORONS!  I'M CALLING CORPORATE!"

"How do I install a trailer hitch?"  Julian:  "I'm sorry, I don't know."  Vulgora:  "Well they just need to employ a trained monkey here!"  Julian:  "We ARE accepting applications, you know."

"Is this shit real gold?"  Portia:  "Yes, 18k."  Vulgora:  "How much is it?"  Portia:  *looks*  "$250."  Vulgora:  "What gold do you have for $20?"  Portia:  "Nothing."

"I WILL CLIMB OVER THIS DESK AND MESS YOU UP!"  Portia: *points to the camera aimed directly at them*  "Do it.  I'll see you in court."

They lost their place in line because they had to go and look at something.  When the person behind them stepped up to the register and started to get their items rung up, they dashed back in front of the person and grabbed Portia's arm to stop her from ringing up the other person's items.  Drew back in shock and horror when Portia immediately balled up her fist and held it threateningly at them.  Nadia was standing right there next to Portia.  Nadia:  "You need to leave.  Right now."  After they left, Nadia looked to Portia and said: "You wouldn't have gotten in trouble if you'd hit them, you know."  Portia:  "No one grabs me.  No one."

"YOU'RE HIDING ALL OF THE STORE EXCLUSIVE POP FIGURES IN THE BACK SO YOU IDIOTS CAN BUY THEM ALL AND SELL THEM ON EBAY!!"  Julian:  "I'm sorry, but you're incorrect.  That Pop figure is $8, and no one here wants to lose their job over an $8 figure.  Plus...the figure you're wanting isn't at this store anyway."  Vulgora:  "AND WHY NOT?!"  Julian:  "...Because it's sold online only." *shows them the online info that clearly states "online-only"*

Valerius

The customer who expects an employee to follow them around with a basket while they shop.

"Is this organic?"  Julian:  "Yes, sir, it is."  Valerius:  "I don't believe you.  Places like this can't possibly carry organic items."

Left an ENTIRE. PILE. of tried-on clothes in the dressing room when the limit on items was 4.

Opened at least 20 different tubes of lipstick and swiped them on his arm.  Put them all back on the shelf.  Asra could be heard swearing as he had to pull each lipstick off of the shelf and dispose of them since they were no longer sanitary and could not be sold.  "Couldn't he just steal?  It would have been so much easier..."

Comes into the store drunk off his ass and acts belligerent to everyone he sees.  Gets so OFFENDED when asked to leave.

"Are these diamonds real?"  Asra:  "They are lab-grown."  Valerius:  "So they aren't real."  Asra:  "They are lab-grown, so they are synthetic diamonds." Valerius:  "So they aren't real."  Asra:  *sighs* "They wouldn't be sold for just $50 if they were."

Starts fights with other customers because he thinks "They're weird."

The customer who accosts other customers, thinking they work there.  Even though they AREN'T. WEARING. A. UNIFORM.

Stuffs a pile of clothes he decided he doesn't want behind the tampons.

Demands that the single bathroom be unlocked, even though the single bathroom being locked means that it's occupied.

"How do these pants make my package look?"  Julian:  "...I'm not going to look, sir.  But they make your calves look amazing."

Walked by Asra and pinched his ass.  Looked so shocked when Asra whirled around and yelled at him.  Valerius: "Hey, I thought you would like that!"  Asra:  "I CLEARLY DID NOT!  That is called SEXUAL ASSAULT!!!  YOU GO TO JAIL FOR THAT!!!"

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Secret Admirer

Summary: For the first 14 days of February, Cyrus receives a small gift from his secret admirer. With the Valentine’s Day Dance coming up, will his secret admirer reveal himself and have the night of his dreams?

This is my Valentine’s Day Exchange Gift for @tyrus-endgayme-confirmed ! I hope you like it!

Word Count: 6851

Ships: Tyrus, Minor Ambi, Minor Muffy

Wednesday February 1st

TJ grabbed the towel from out of his bag, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated during practice. A few of his teammates clapped him on the back on their way out, and soon it was just him and Marty in the locker room.

“You played great today, man,” Marty said, taking a seat on the bench and unscrewing his water bottle, “we’re gonna crush the Raptors when we play them,”

“I hope so,” he mumbled, digging into his bag for a piece of paper; not just any piece of paper, but the piece of paper. “Can you do me a favor?” he asked, folding up the paper neatly.

“Hm, depends, what am I getting out of it?” Marty challenged, capping his bottle and stuffing it into his duffel bag.

“The satisfaction that you’re helping a friend of yours with a love related issue?”

Marty perked right up, hopping over and slapping TJ’s arm repeatedly. “Oooh, TJ’s got the hots for someone,” he crooned, smiling mischievously.

“Shut up,” he muttered, pushing him aside and handing him the piece of paper, “just tape this up on locker 143,”

“Wait, that’s Cyrus’ locker,” he sputtered, earning an unenthusiastic glare from TJ.

“Good catch, dude. Glad to know you’re not totally clueless,” he said, patting him on the shoulder, “just go pin it up. I’m picking him up from school today and I want him to see it before we leave,”

“TJ and Cyrus, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-”

“Finish that rhyme and I’ll bench you for the season!” he called, heading towards his locker. Marty pulled his lips into a small smile, sneaking out the back door of the locker room and  jogging down the hallway. It was mostly empty, save for a teacher or two, and the cleaning crew that came every night. He peered around, not wanting to be caught, and haphazardly stuck the note on Cyrus’ locker, ducking out of sight as quick as he could.

“I’m telling you, my answer was right,” Cyrus huffed, clutching his biology textbook to his chest, “she just didn’t want to go back and check because she didn’t want to admit that I was right,”

TJ chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine Ms. Wingood being that petty,” he replied, as the two of them stopped by Cyrus’ locker for him to drop off his stuff. Sure enough, there was a small scrap of notebook paper, folded in the shape of a heart on his locker.

“Must be the wrong locker,” Cyrus mumbled, ripping it off and opening it up to read it.

I think you’re one of the most beautiful people in the world, Cyrus.

Cyrus stared, dumbfounded. That was his name on the note. His name. This wasn’t a mistake. “What the. . .?” he trailed softly, running his fingers delicately along the writing.

“Someone’s clearly smitten with you,” TJ teased, trying to contain his amusement.

“Or it’s just some dumbass prank,” Cyrus corrected, exchanging his biology book for his english ones, and dropping them into his bag, “you’re driving me home, right?”

TJ nodded, starting towards the parking lot. “Just like I said I would, Underdog,” he commented, unlocking his car with the click of a button.

“I’ve got to tell Buffy about this,” he started, snapping a picture and quickly texting it to her.

And if TJ nearly hit a bush on the way out because he was too busy staring at Cyrus, nobody made a comment.

Thursday February 2

TJ had never been at school this early; the birds were hardly chirping, and most of the lights inside were off, or were just starting to warm up. He pushed through the entrance, dropping off his books at his own locker, when someone came up behind him.

“So what do you need me to do again?” the boy asked, looking up to TJ with tired eyes. Darren, one of the members of the basketball team, agreed to help TJ out with his ‘challenge’, but he didn’t imagine getting up this early.

“When you see Cyrus, give him these and tell him that his secret admirer made them for him,” TJ insisted, shoving a box of cookies towards the other boy, his eyes darting around the hallway for a certain boy.

“Here he comes,” he whispered, pushing Darren out of the way and dashing into the nearest classroom. Tentatively, he peered out of the window, trying to see what was going on without giving away his location.

“Cyrus, right?” Darren greeted, approaching the other boy, “these are for you. Your, uh, secret admirer told me to give them to you,”

Cyrus’ face scrunched up, carefully taking the box. He looked around at the other students; a few of them were watching him with a concentration that could only be described as endearingly creepy. “Who’s behind this? Are they recording this? Is this a prank?”

Dareen shrugged, tapping the box lightly. “Don’t shoot the messenger, dude. I was just told to give this to you this morning,” he mumbled, turning on his heel and pivoting away. Cyrus opened his locker, setting the box down lightly.

“Hey, Underdog!”

Cyrus whipped around, smiling tentatively when he saw TJ. “You will not believe what happened to me this morning,” he gushed, pulling out the box of cookies from inside his locker.

I have some idea. “What’s inside?” TJ asked, trying his best to conceal his smile.

“I’m not sure let me just,” he started, peeling back the sticker and opening up the box. Inside were around two dozen heart-shaped cookies, decorated with pink and red royal icing, “oh my gosh,”

TJ peered over his shoulder, biting back a smile. “Secret admirer?” he asked.

Cyrus nodded. “That’s what Darren said. It’s nice, I just-I really hope this isn’t some stupid prank,” he muttered, taking a cookie and handing one to TJ, “want one?”

TJ took it gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll see you after practice,”

As if on cue, Buffy ran up to Cyrus, poking his shoulder. “Did I just see TJ giving you a box of cookies that were heart shaped?”

Cyrus scowled, already halfway through a cookie; they were so good. “And now you don’t get one for being nosy,” he insisted, “no Darren gave me these. From my secret admirer,”

Buffy raised her brows, snatching the box and taking one for herself and one for Andi. “They went through all this work for you? That’s pretty sweet,”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Don’t make this a big deal,” he mumbled, walking off to class, cookies in hand.

Friday February 3

He was almost there; he could see Cyrus’ locker. Unfortunately, he could also see a certain pixie-haired girl standing near it. This couldn’t possibly go well. He tried to act casual as if he was walking in this direction for a good reason.

“Your locker is on the other side of the hallway,” she pointed out, “this is Cyrus’,”

Crap. “I know, I was just. . .getting help from a teacher,” he lied, walking into the nearest classroom and shutting the door. So much for that plan, he supposed. Luckily the room was empty, and he didn’t have to explain his actions.

“Hey, Cyrus!” Andi called, “ready for French?”

“Oui, oui, mon amie,” he puffed out, drawing out his French accent tremendously, “on y va,”

As soon as TJ saw that Cyrus and Andi were gone, he popped out of the classroom. Pulling out his phone, he pretended to look at it and stretch up, slapping another note on the boy’s locker. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least his anonymity was still in tact.

While he was doing homework later that day, TJ got a call from Cyrus. Putting it on speaker, he continued to try and do his work.

“Hey, Cy, what’s-”

“A poem, TJ!” he squealed, and TJ could practically hear his grin on the other side of the line.

“What are you talking about?”

“On my locker, there was a poem! Let me grab it so I can read it,” he said, and TJ heard the sound of papers shuffling on the other side of the line. He smiled to himself, and could feel a blush rising within him.

“Okay, here we go,” he started, clearing his throat, “Cyrus, you are the moon and the stars, the sun and every brilliant ray of light. With a smile so warm and inviting that it’s hard to picture any other expression on your face. You are the wildflower in a field of grass, the warm patch of grass on a cloudy day, and the gentle breeze on a summer’s day,”

TJ cringed internally; he didn’t like having his poetry read aloud, but he couldn’t really tell Cyrus this. He just listened to him, paying close attention to his inflection.

“Can you believe? That’s, like, the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me!” he gushed, folding it back up, “do you have any idea who this person might be?”

TJ swallowed; he hated lying to Cyrus. “Not a clue,”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to your work. See you tomorrow!” he hung up, and TJ shut his phone off. He couldn’t concentrate on his homework for the rest of the night.

Saturday February 4

TJ’s chest ached from running, his feet stinging. He could see the small, blue house close ahead, so he kept going, paper in hand. He knew Cyrus wouldn’t be home right now; he had dance rehearsal, which he hadn’t failed to point out in the daily. How dare they deprive him of his Saturday, he’d whined.

Hopping up the stairs, he taped the small piece of paper on the door, and scurried away. He felt a certain lightness to his step, smiling when he thought of the smile on Cyrus’ face.

Cyrus wobbled out of his dance class, feeling different. Luckily, Buffy was there to help him walk home. “How was class?”

He groaned, shooting her a look as he grabbed onto her arm. “I have a newfound respect for ballerinas,” he muttered, wincing with each step.

“Well, look on the bright side,” she offered, “at least when you go to the dance, you’ll be the best one on the floor,”

He snorted, rounding the corner. “Yeah, you say that as if I’m going to actually go to the dance,” he pointed out, shaking his head, “I’d just end up going alone,”

“Not alone,” she said softly, “you can go with me and Andi, like we always do,”

“You mean I tag along with you guys until Amber and Marty show up,” he corrected, sighing in relief when he saw his house in the distance.

Buffy hesitated, gnawing at her lip. “Well. . .what about your secret admirer?”

Cyrus shook his head. “That’s probably just a joke,” he shrugged it off, “and even if it wasn’t, I doubt they’d reveal themselves,”

Buffy offered a sympathetic smile, turning into his driveway. “I think the mail came,” she pointed to a small piece of paper, fluttering on the door. As they got closer, Cyrus realized that it wasn’t a piece of mail; no stamps, no address, no envelope, nothing. Peeling it off the door, he unfolded it and read it.

Valentine’s Day Dance. You and me?

It took everything in Buffy to not say ‘I told you so’, so instead she shook her friend lightly. “See? Look!”

Cyrus fought a smile off of his face, folding it back up and placing it into his pocket. “Whatever,” he mumbled, trying to keep his cool, but missing the mark by a long shot, “I’ll see you later,”

That night, while he was trying to finish some math problems, TJ got a text from Cyrus. It was a picture of the note on his door, followed by a text of random letters mashed together.

[scary captain: oooh? someone’s smitten for youuuu]

[underdog <33: i can’t even it’s so cute !! someone actually wants to go to the dance with me??]

[scary captain: what can i say, you’re quite the catch]

[underdog <33: someone sure seems to think so]

Sunday February 5

TJ sat around most of the day, not sure of what to do. He didn’t really feel like running to Cyrus’ house and placing another note on his door. Plus, he knew Cyrus was going to be home for probably the entire day, so that plan went out the window. He peeks outside through the curtains, and smiles upon seeing the flowers. It may be February, but at least some wildlife was alive. Suddenly, he has an idea, so he texts in the groupchat.

to: operation muffin

[scary captain: find as many flower petals as you can. meet me tmrw in front of my locker]

Monday February 6

“C’mon, I don’t want him to see us,” TJ groaned, brisk walking towards his locker. His friends came up to him and the box that he held, and they dumped all their petals in there. Pink, red, white, yellow, and every color in between spilled into the box. It looked like a rainbow threw up; how befitting.

They scattered, and feeling a bit more confident, he hurried towards Cyrus’ locker. All that confidence evaporated when he saw the lock. Crap. He didn’t know the code.

Luckily, Andi seemed to be passing by; maybe she would know? “Hey, Andi,” he called out, holding the box tight to his chest. Because if he dropped it, it would all be over.

“TJ, hi,” she greeted, a small smile on her face.

“Do you, uh, know Cyrus’ lock combination?” he asked, tapping his feet in his shoe. Andi’s happy expression morphed into one of confusion, knitting her brows together.

“Why?” she asked, crossing her arms, almost as a means of defense.

“Oh, uh. . .he, um, he stole one of my hoodies,” he lied, forcing a small smile, “yeah, and I. . .need it back,”

She looked him over once, twice. She was probably sure that he was lying, but she didn’t press it. She merely shrugged, tugging on her backpack straps. “Okay, um, it’s 2, then, 28, then 19,” she supplied, giving him one more look of confusion before walking off.

Sighing in relief, he turned the lock, using the numbers that Andi gave him, and sure enough, it opened. He peered around; not too many people were in the vicinity, and the ones that were around didn’t look like they were paying attention. Hurriedly, he dumped the petals in and slammed the locker shut, locking it.

“Okay, done,” he mumbled under his breath. He wanted to wait around for Cyrus and see his reaction, but he needed to meet up with his math teacher and touch base about the upcoming quiz. Oh well, Cyrus would probably tell him about it later.

Cyrus walked out of his biology class, tears glossing over his eyes. That was the worst test he’d ever taken; it might as well have been written in Chinese, he would have understood it all the same.

“Hey, Cyrus!”

A familiar figure came up behind him, slinging his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders. “How was class?”

Cyrus shook his head, looking up a little. He felt a little guilty for making TJ’s smile go away, but it was like he couldn’t help himself. “That was the hardest test I’ve ever taken. Failed it for sure,” he groaned, crossing his arms.

TJ frowned, pulling him in a little closer. “I’m sure you didn’t fail. You always say that, and then you do fine,” he noted.

Cyrus sighed. “Whatever, it’s over, I guess. History is next, can this day get any worse?” he grumbled, heading towards his locker. TJ wondered if Cyrus had seen what was inside.

He watched as Cyrus carefully turned his lock, like it was clockwork. The moment he tugged the locker open, all the petals spilled out, like a waterfall. A few of them spent considerable time in the air, before floating down and settling on the floor.

“What the-” Cyrus started, reaching into his locker and pulling out a large handful of petals, “do you think it’s from. . .?”

“Your secret admirer?” TJ supplied, a bit too quickly, “probably. I can’t imagine it being anyone else,” he added, squatting down to help Cyrus pick up the petals.

“I’m taking these home to press them in books,” Cyrus decided, a soft smile returning to his face.

“Feeling a little better?” TJ asked, handing him the rest of the petals.

Cyrus nodded, scooping all of the loose petals into a stray bag that he had floating around in his locker. “Yeah, thanks,” he smiled, “for, helping me pick these up, I mean,”

“Don’t mention it,”

Tuesday February 7

“And I keep getting all these little things, like in my locker and I just, I’m going to burst from happiness!”

Jonah smiled. “I’m really happy for you,” he noted, patting his shoulder, “whoever this is, they’re really cool for doing all these things,”

“Yeah, they are,” he mumbled, dreamily, leaning against the locker. Curse him for thinking of a certain blonde haired boy.

“Do you have any idea of who it might be?” Jonah asked, opening his locker and exchanging the books for his next class.

Cyrus shook his head. “I have an idea of who I want it to be,” he admitted, “but it would be stupid,”

Jonah smirked, shutting his locker with a gentle click. “TJ, right?”

Cyrus nearly fell, the ground feeling like it was crumbling underneath him. “What?” he squeaked, looking around.

Jonah chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, man. You think I can’t hear all the things you’re constantly mumbling under your breath about him? Or the way you look at him?”

Cyrus smacked his forehead. “Ah, silly,” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” he smiled, and Cyrus felt infinitely better.

Unfortunately, TJ did not. He saw a part of their exchange from afar, and all their laughter made him want to turn around and run the other direction. But that would be childish and silly. Two things TJ Kippen was most definitely not.

“Hey guys,” he says, with all the enthusiasm that he can muster. It’s lame, but it’s an attempt.

“Oh, hey TJ,” Jonah greets with a nod, “we were just talking about you,”

Cyrus elbows his side, feeling his cheeks heat up. He shot Jonah a look that read ‘I’ll kill you’, but before he could cause too much damage, there was more speaking.

“Really?” TJ questioned, and it almost looked like he was about to smile.

Jonah rubbed his arm, getting the message. “We, uh. . yeah, we were. . .talking about the upcoming basketball game,” he lied, with a bright grin on his face.

“Oh, okay,” he replied, glancing at Cyrus, “I’ll catch you later,” he says with a wave, walking off. Once he’s out of earshot, Cyrus gives Jonah a swift slap on his arm.

“Are you kidding me? Could you be any worse at this,” he groans, putting his head in his hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he didn’t notice,” Jonah supplied, walking off to his next class.

“Aaron, hey!” TJ whispers, kicking the desk beside him to get his attention, “can you give this to Cyrus when you see him?” He handed him a piece of paper, that had been folded up, and on the outside there was a small heart.

Aaron nodded, slipping it into his pocket for later.

It hardly felt like a Tuesday, according to Cyrus. The week had just started, and he was already looking forward to the weekend. Each class seemed to drag on and on. What was worse, in Cyrus’ opinion, was that whoever was this secret admirer of his didn’t give him anything today. He tried not to feel bad about it. Besides, it was probably just some joke anyways. Why was he so hung up on it?

“Uh, Cyrus, right?” someone called out, stumbling forward to try and get his attention.

“Yeah that’s me. . .Aaron, right?”

The boy nodded, fumbling with a piece of paper. “This is from T-” he bit his lip, shaking his head, “from, uh, from your secret admirer,” he corrected, handing him the piece of paper. Cyrus took it carefully, trying to suppress the building excitement that was blooming in his chest. Unfolding it, he found that it was a carefully sketched picture of him, concentrating on something. It was done in pencil, probably something done in a class, but it was beautiful.

“This is incredible,” he gawked, not even bothering to look up, “thanks for giving me this,”

“Oh, uh, I’m not. . .I’m not your secret admirer,” he flushed, rocking back on his heels.

Finally Cyrus looked up, folding the drawing again. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that,” he laughed dryly, “I mean thanks for being the messenger,” he corrected, “I’ll see you around,”

Wednesday February 8

There’s less than a week until Valentine’s Day, and TJ feels like he’s going to explode. He’s kept this secret for so long and he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it for another week. Six days, actually.

He walked into school with flowers in his hand; forget-me-nots, along with a small note. Cyrus’ favorite. He always liked the name, because he talked about how he didn’t like being forgotten. And TJ never forgot that.

Unfortunately, neither did Buffy. When she spotted him, she made a beeline towards him, a determined look on her face.

“Flowers? You shouldn’t have,” she cooed, batting her lashes.

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if, Driscoll,”

She shook her head. “Who are those actually for?”

TJ tried to brush it off; he wasn’t going to let Buffy Driscoll of all people get under his skin. “No one. They’re mine. Someone got them for me,”

She hummed, unconvinced, but surprisingly, she didn’t press any further. She gave him another look before walking away. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he started towards Cyrus’ locker, only to see him starting to walk in that same direction. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen TJ. In a moment of panic, he chucked the flowers towards the base of Cyrus’ locker and ducked into the nearest classroom.

“Breathe, TJ,” he told himself, placing a hand over his heart. He waited a few beats before peeking his head out of the room. And sure enough, Cyrus had the flowers in his hand. Casually, TJ waltzed out of the classroom and towards him.

“Wow, more gifts,” he chuckled, leaning against the lockers.

“And they’re my favorite flowers!” he beamed, opening his locker and neatly placing them in there, “they must have a spy on the inside to get this information,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later,”

“Later,”

Thursday February 9

“But you don’t get it, they’re my favorite flowers!” Cyrus cooed, walking side by side with Andi.

“I know that. You tell me all the time,” she pointed out, shaking her head.

He sighed, tugging on the straps of his backpack. With each day, he was getting more and more impatient with this secret admirer of his. He figured he’d find out who he was eventually, but he also knew he couldn’t wait much longer.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Andi muttered under her breath, plucking a note off of Cyrus’ locker and opening it up, “it says ‘I fall harder for you each day. Each day it gets a little harder to keep this a secret. But I promise you’ll know who I am by Valentine’s Day’”

Cyrus grabbed the note out of her hand, feeling mildly violated. “I did not approve you to read this,” he noted, but he was smiling, “and oh my gosh, that’s quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he murmured, “hey, you have history with TJ, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just,” he paused, “wondering if-”

“You wanted me to analyze his handwriting and compare it to the one on the note,” she deadpanned, offering a sympathetic smile.

He opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She hit the nail on the head.

“You want it to be TJ,” she said softer, placing her hand on his arm.

Cyrus nodded, almost sadly. He wanted it to be TJ so badly, and a small flutter of hope existed, but he knew that deep down, it wouldn’t happen. Because he was Cyrus Goodman, and TJ was. . .TJ.

Friday February 10

Cyrus hadn’t seen TJ all morning, which usually he wasn’t too bummed about, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to show him the drawing he’d received. He’d pinned it up in his locker, holding it up with a few magnets to support it. It was beautiful.

“Cyrus, c’mon, we’re going to be late for class,” Buffy drawled, physically having to drag him away from where he was standing.

“But I didn’t get anything this morning, and I didn’t see TJ,” he whined, trudging along down the hallway.

Buffy shook her head, trying to piece two and two together. It made sense in retrospect; the flowers, the handwriting seemed pretty similar, and TJ wasn’t a bad artist. She smiled to herself. “I’m sure things will all fit into place,” she said, pushing him into the classroom.

By the end of the day, TJ had finally found himself a spare moment to rush by Cyrus’ locker. It was a bit of a messy job, but it was done. He didn’t want Cyrus to think that he’d forgotten about him.

“. . .and I’m telling you, it wasn’t the right answer,” Cyrus’ voice floated down the hallway, so TJ pretended to check his phone casually, staring at a black screen.

“TJ, hey! I haven’t seen you all day,” Cyrus beamed, bouncing right up to him.

He pocketed his phone immediately, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so I missed the first two periods,”

Cyrus nodded, turning to face his locker. He swore he turned a shade of red one could only describe as unnatural. There on his locker was a cut out kiss, with a little thing of lip balm, with a small note that read “Pucker Up”.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled under his breath, quickly taking it down, “this is the flirtiest by far,”

“Something wrong with that?” he asked. He tried to make it sound casual, but it sounded worried and almost strained.

Cyrus giggles, placing the note in his locker and the lip balm in his pocket. “No, I just. . .wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted, “I mean, I didn’t think anyone would want to kiss me of all people,”

“Are you insane? Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” TJ blurted out, freezing up a little. He really just said whatever came to mind, didn’t he? “I mean, uh, you shouldn’t. . .shouldn’t say things like that about yourself,”

“Right,” Cyrus mumbled, the deep shade of red never fading from his face, “. . .any fun plans for the weekend?” he tried, filling the silence as they walked towards the exit.

“Nothing much, just. . .waiting for this Valentine’s Day dance,” he muttered.

“Oh, are you asking someone?” he asked nervously, toying with the hem of his shirt.

“. . .maybe,” he said with a smirk, carding a hand through his hair, “maybe, maybe not,”

“I hate when you say that, you know,” Cyrus chuckled, rounding the corner towards his house.

“I know,”

Saturday February 11

TJ wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have plans. If Cyrus hadn’t have texted him asking if it was alright if he came over, he would be in his room staring at the wall.

“So,” TJ started, pausing the game of Mario Kart that they were currently on, “you ready for the dance?”

Cyrus shook his head like his life depended on it. “God, no,” he chuckled, leaning back against the couch cushions, “I’m just. . .nervous,” he admitted, “I mean, what if my secret admirer is a girl?”

TJ breathed out a laugh. “No offense, Cy, but it’s not exactly a secret to the school that you’re gay,” he pointed out.

“I know, I know,” he hesitated, fumbling with the controller, “but still, I just. . .I don’t know, I can’t help but feel like it’s some joke. Like someone has been doing this just to get a kick out of me,”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” TJ assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “plus, whoever he is, he’s really lucky,”

Cyrus tried to respond, but nothing came out. Because dammit, TJ Kippen was really beautiful up closer; the way his green eyes shined, all his little freckles that splayed across his face, the gentle smile that made all his worries melt away.

“I, uh, yeah. . .yeah,” he stammered out. It was a lame excuse of a response, but it was a string of words.

Sunday February 12

TJ tugged on his hoodie, pulling down the hood as far as it would go. It was a chilly Sunday, and he wished it wasn’t him doing this. He’d tried to ask one of his basketball teammates if they could, but apparently they all had other things to do. Either that or they were tired of being TJ’s messengers and listening to him gush about Cyrus.

Either way, that’s how TJ found himself walking to Cyrus’ house that day, note in hand and everything. It was basically deserted that morning, considering people were probably still at church, which he was grateful for. He really didn’t need someone catching him this late in the game.

“TJ?”

He froze, taking a step away from the door and swiftly turning around, making sure to keep his head low. Sure enough, he saw a familiar pair of sneakers and if he was being careless, he could see a head of curls.

“Buffy? What are you doing here?” he asked, scowling.

“Cyrus and I are supposed to hang out today, what are you doing here?” she challenged, a small smirk on her face, “taping a note to his door,” she tacked on.

He grumbled, the wind pushing back his hood a little. “Nothing,” he lied, “I’m, uh, I’m doing this for. . .someone,”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “I can read you like a book, TJ. You can’t lie to me. Well, you can but I’ll know,”

He groaned, crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

“I just wanna know,” she said simply, waiting a beat.

“. . .fine. It’s me, okay?” he gave in, defeated, “you can’t. . .you can’t tell him, okay?”

She clapped her hands together, walking up and plucking the note off of the door. “I won’t,” she promised, opening the door and stepping inside of the house. TJ shook his head. So much for secrecy.

“Cyrus!” Buffy called, pounding up the stairs with manic energy, “I have something for you!”

Cyrus was lying on his bed on his stomach, staring at the TV in front of him and watching whatever show was on the Food Network. “Unless it’s Alton Brown’s pie, I don’t want it,” he mumbled, holding onto the pillow.

“Oh,” she shrugged, “so I guess you don’t want this note from your secret admirer,” she sighed dramatically, holding it out.

He snapped out of his haze, sitting upright and snatching the note from her hand. He unfolded it, and it was a small doodle of a heart, with a small message inside that read ‘I hope you’re not disappointed when it’s me’.

Cyrus smiled, clutching it to his chest and flopping back down. “Do you know who it is?”

Buffy hesitated; she did promise TJ that she wouldn’t say anything about him. “I don’t not know who it is?”

He groaned, frowning. “Buffy, please, I’m dying here!”

“Alright, alright, calm down there, Shakespeare. You’ll find out in two days. You can wait till then,”

“I suppose,”

Monday February 13

How was it was it was already the day before Valentine’s Day? TJ felt like just yesterday it was the end of January, and now he was walking in with one of the last gifts. He handed it off to Blake, the alternate shooting guard for the team. TJ saw Cyrus at his locker, and instantly his day was better. Unfortunately, Buffy and Andi were off to the side making goo-goo eyes at him.

“What is the matter with you two?” he grumbled, approaching them.

“Aw, Kippen’s so smitten for Cyrus,” Buffy cooed, and Andi tried to swallow her laughter, “oh yeah, also I told Andi,”

He pinched the bridge of his nose; pick your battles, TJ. “Can’t keep a lid on it can you,” he muttered, shaking his head, “look just, keep it under wraps for one more day. Please,”

They both mimed zipping their lips and hurried along, bursting out in laughter as soon as they were out of sight of the captain. It didn’t take too long for a certain voice to travel down the hallway.

“TJ, you have to see this!” Cyrus squeaked, pushing the present into his hand, “this is the best one yet, look!” He started pulling out strips of paper, with some of his favorite quotes written down on them.

The things that make you strange are the things that make you powerful -- Ben Platt

You matter to me, simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody -- Waitress

Nothing is a beautiful as you, but these quotes can try -- Your Secret Admirer

“Oh my god,” Cyrus cooed, feeling his cheeks heat up, “this is the best gift ever,” he decided.

“Oh, uh, actually,” TJ mumbled, pulling something out of your bag, “your, uh, secret admirer told me to give you this,” he said, pushing a small trinket into Cyrus’ hand. It was a ceramic dinosaur that TJ had made in pottery class, with the help of the teacher and a photo reference. It was far from perfect, but it was an attempt.

Cyrus swore he was going to cry. “I-I love this,” he whispered, willing himself not to cry, “it’s. . .it’s so beautiful,”

TJ smiled, feeling a little prouder of his work. “Someone really cares about you,”

Cyrus nodded, smiling up at him. “Yeah. . .they do,”

Tuesday February 14

The dreaded, or long awaited, day had arrived. Depends how you look at it. TJ had changed into seven different outfits within the span of ten minutes, and he ended up going with the first one anyways; a pink polo and nice jeans. He got up so early that morning, for fear of being late, that it was still dark outside when he was ready. Trying not to focus on that, he took the opportunity walking to school to try and rehearse what he was going to say, because he knew that he was going to fumble over his words.

On the way, he stopped by a flower shot to pick out a small bouquet of daffodils before continuing on his way. It was a relatively warm day for February, and TJ was grateful for that, considering he hadn’t worn a jacket.

When he arrived at school, he waited around his locker for a while, pacing back and forth so many times a teacher approached him to ask if he was alright. The hallways were littered with Valentine’s Day decorations and posters for the dance. He sighed; how was he supposed to tell him? No, this was going to be okay.

“TJ, hey!”

The moment he saw Cyrus, everything he’d rehearsed this morning went out the window. He barely even remembered where he was or what his name was. It was like he was transported to an alternate universe.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. Daffodils. Cyrus. Daffodils for Cyrus. Right. “These, uh, these are for you,” he added, pushing them into his hands, “from your secret admirer,”

Cyrus’ heart skipped a beat, he swore, and he all but stopped breathing. Was it. . .could it be? Was this actually happening?

“I’m on delivery duty,” he lied quickly, trying to cover his tracks for a little while longer. Yeah, this was going to be a lot harder than he previously thought.

Cyrus deflated; of course it wasn’t TJ. He was just making it out to be like that. “Oh,” he mumbled, dejected, fumbling with the flowers. At least they looked nice. “Thanks,”

TJ felt a pang of guilt rush through him. He couldn’t keep lying to himself and to Cyrus, it wasn’t fair. “Actually wait,” he hurried, “I. . .need to tell you something,”

Cyrus nodded, looking at him sincerely. “Go on,”

And of all the ways he thought he would feel at this moment, numb was not one of those options. All the anxiety and the fear and the excitement and adrenaline had all melted into nothingness, and left him feeling completely numb.

“It’s me,” he said quietly, shutting his eyes and bracing himself for rejection, “I’m your. . .secret admirer,”

Cyrus was speechless for a moment, before he broke out into a huge grin and started giggling. “Are you serious?” he breathed out, putting a hand on his forehead, “oh my god, I never would have thought,”

TJ opened his eyes slowly; even if he was facing rejection, it was nice to hear Cyrus laughing. “Are you. . .disappointed it’s me?”

Cyrus literally jaw-dropped at that. “Are you kidding? I’ve never been so happy in my life to hear something!”

Now it was TJ’s turn to be speechless. Did he hear that right? “Y-You are?”

Cyrus nodded, placing the flowers in his locker. “You’re seriously asking me that? I’ve had a crush on you since, like, the seventh grade,” he admitted, smiling sheepishly.

TJ smiled so wide his face hurt, but he didn’t care. “So. . .does this mean you’ll go to the Valentine’s Day dance with me?”

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes,” Cyrus squealed, wrapping his arms around TJ.

Arriving at the dance was pure chaos. Kids were running down the ramp towards the gym, letting out squeals of delight. Cyrus had arrived with Andi and Buffy, but they had already made their way down the gym after they took pictures. Amber and Marty were waiting down there, so they said a quick goodbye to him and left him alone.

He walked around a little bit, taking note of the posters on the walls for this dance. Andi and the rest of the art club had really gone all out to make sure they were perfect. All the glitter really stood out, and the different styles of hearts and-

“Cyrus?”

A voice cut through the general silence that surrounded him. When he turned around, he thought he could melt right then and there. TJ wore a maroon blazer with a light pink shirt, and a black bowtie. In short, he looked stunning.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, taking a few steps forward and placing a hand on his arm, “you look. . .incredible,”

TJ swallowed, biting his lip. “Right back at you,” he murmured, slipping his hand into Cyrus’, “this okay?”

Cyrus nods, dragging him down the ramp, his feet hammering into the ground with each step. The music was blaring, and the gym was nearly packed with kids, all moving around and waving their hands in the air. And if Buffy and Andi came up to TJ and barraged him with questions while Cyrus grabbed them drinks, he didn’t mention it to Cyrus.

Most of the night was spent bouncing around groups of people, but TJ and Cyrus were basically inseparable. They really liked having each other for company.

“Alright, ladies and gents, it’s time to take it real slow,” the DJ drawled, switching over to a softer song with a gentle beat, “so find that special someone,”

TJ looked almost nervous when he asked Cyrus to dance. It was silly, really, since he already said yes to going to the dance with him. As if Cyrus could sense his nerves, he took TJ by the hand and led him towards the center of the dance floor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching up and wrapping his arms around TJ’s neck.

“Hi,” he replied, a small smile making its way on his smile as he gingerly placed his hands on Cyrus’ waist, “is this okay?”

Cyrus nodded, inching forward a little and resting his head on TJ’s chest. He could almost hear Andi shrieking from the other side of the gym, but he assumed it was Amber who kept her in check.

“What are you thinking about?” TJ asked quietly, swaying gently from side to side.

Cyrus chuckled, picking his head up. “How much I want to kiss you,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush at that.

“Oh, really?” TJ replied cheekily, smirking down at him, “what’s stopping you?”

Cyrus shrugged, smiling softly. “I mean. . .do you want to kiss me?”

“So badly,” TJ murmured, smiling.

Without much thinking, Cyrus leaned up and planted a short kiss on his lips. They burned at the sudden sensation, and he worried that it wasn’t good. “Sorry,” he murmured, “that was. . .awful,”

TJ gave him a sympathetic smile, hooking a finger under his chin. “It’ll get better,”

Cyrus smiled, placing his hand on TJ’s. “Yeah. . .yeah, it will,”

[cottonblush]

misconstrued meetings | kth

❧ word count: 1,921

❧ genre: fluff, fluff, fluff, humor

❧ notes: ugh the ending has me soft i can’t believe i actually wrote this what the heck?? but like it lowkey seems like a crack fic at the beginning and i swear it’s not??

this is the fifth frat party your friend has managed to drag you along to in the span of 2 weeks

and at every party you always see the same dude creepily staring at you

and he looks kinda familiar so you point him out to your friend but she has no idea

she does, however, say that maybe you guys met in another lifetime

and then your friend starts to rant about how cute that would be and she gets this glimmer in her eyes and you’re just like

miss me with that romance bs this is the real world sweetie

anyway you’ve gotten so distracted that you lose track of the creepy yet somewhat cute boy

but you just shrug your shoulders and go to find yourself a drink that isn’t spiked bc you’re the designated driver

eventually you find a nice lil can of sprite and pop it open

then you go back into the mass of people and try to mingle

but like everyone is just grinding and you’re like,,,, no thank you sir

so you’re about to go find somewhere quieter but then the dude from earlier runs up to you

he looks a little different from when you first saw him when you walked in

now he’s practically bouncing up and down and he looks like he’s on the biggest sugar high ever

and you’re about to be like,, dude r u ok

but he beats you to it and he just goes

“asdfwjkdhh have you seen my pet alligator sKREEEEEEE”

and then he runs away screeching????

and you’re like

“wtf this can’t be the guy”

but sure enough you roll up your sleeve and double check

and what he said matches your soulmate tattoo word for word

the first thing you think is,,, ohmygod my soulmate is?? a stalker? who does drugs perhaps???

you think he’s pretty weird tbh

but ofc it’s your soulmate so you run after him and he’s not in the most stable condition so it literally only takes you 4 seconds to catch up

and you grab his shoulder to turn him around

and he looks at you for a good 5 seconds before passing out on you

you’re just glad he didn’t throw up bc like you’re wearing a pretty expensive shirt and

we going: broke hours!!

anyway so you sit him down on a couch and ask around if anyone knows who this guy is

this one guy with rlly cute dimples says

“oh that’s taehyung dw he ate like 20 sugar cookies earlier he should be fine just leave him”

and you’re just like?? “how could i just leave him there?  and how are you so nonchalant about this-”

the guy introduces himself as namjoon and says that taehyung lives on the same floor as him in the dorms

and then he asks why you’re so interested and you go

“i mean he could possibly??? be my soulmate,, but like no big deal or anything”

and namjoon is like “oh,,,,,,, oh shit wow rlly?”

and you’re like “yes rlly.. um so i’m just gonna go check on him”

after like 45 minutes taehyung finally wakes up and it happens to be right when you press a hand to his forehead to see if he has a fever or anything

and then you blink and say “are you ok dude? you kinda passed out on me”

he sits up straight and he’s like “yeah dw i’m fine- wait!! what’d you say!”

and you repeat yourself with like an unsure voice and then he just smiles

like he full on beams and you swear you’re looking at the sun even though it’s almost midnight and you’re in a crowded, dark room

and he goes “wow it’s really you:)))))))))))))))” and he starts lifting up his shirt

and you’re just really flustered at this point

“bro what are you doing we’re in public”

taehyung just waves you off and continues to lift up his shirt until it’s up to the middle of his chest

you have to try so hard not to focus on the fact that he has abs and he’s!! hot

but then your eyes land on this little tattoo he has along his ribcage

and it’s exactly what you said to him

and you smile too and show him your tattoo and say

“woah we’re soulmates that’s so cool!”

taehyung replies with “yeah so you wanna date?”

you kinda think it over in your head bc like taehyung is very very very attractive and he seems nice enough

but you eventually say “sorry um ii don’t really believe in the whole love/like at first sight thing but maybe we can be friends”

and it’s true,, your whole life you’ve thought the idea of soulmates is impractical like one day you meet this supposedly perfect person and you’re supposed to be instantly in love? that aint it

and lucky for you taehyung takes it just fine and is like “sure sure i totally get where you’re coming from,, how about we like go out for coffee some time but just as friends”

and you get taehyung’s number and make sure he’s feeling ok enough to stand up and stuff

and you say bye and go find your friend so you can zoom out of there

so you guys go out for coffee the next weekend at this cute café that taehyung recommends to you

it’s pleasantly surprising bc you’ve only been talking for 20 minutes but you feel like you’ve known taehyung since first grade or something

you learn that he loves to make jokes but he doesn’t like puns that much bc he says his roommate has a pun for literally everything and taehyung is: over it

he tells you he’s majoring in chemical engineering and you’re like !! me too

and he’s like,, yeah ik we have 3 classes together

and you’re like “what?? but? i never see you”

he explains that they’re all lecture classes and he sits behind you so you probably wouldn’t notice

and taehyung also wants to bring up the fact that he’s wanted to ask you out way before he knew you were soulmates but he knows you want to be friends first

and if you knew what he was thinking you would be aww-ing and probably soft™ like he’s balling his fists up bc he just wants to tell you he likes you that much

anyway so the totally not romantic get together goes really well and you say

“taehyung you should totally sit next to me in class next time”

and he’s like “ofc see you then”

you part ways and on the way back to your dorm you can’t stop feeling this tingly feeling all over and there’s a huge smile on your face but you’re telling yourself to stay strong bc

you can’t just cave in after seeing him one time

but then you start seeing him everywhere

like in classes and when you’re walking to club and at the cafeteria and at the library and ofc you guys hang out almost every weekend

and you kinda tell yourself,, ok i guess i kinda like this dude??

so anyway it’s been a good two months since you met and you and taehyung are pretty comfortable around each other

like you guys know each others orders at all of your favorite restaurants and you have clothes at each others dorms for when you have secret sleepovers and marathon marvel movies

and all of your friends and taehyung’s friends assume that you guys are a couple

one day you’re thinking and you’re like “i think i’m gonna ask tae out”

so you do and you do it during one of your sleepovers

you and taehyung are wearing matching flannel pajamas and you’re stuffing your faces with cookies and brownies

and you turn to taehyung and tap him on the shoulder

“go out w me”

“what”

“you heard me”

“no but like are you serious”

“yeah why wouldn’t i be???”

cue taehyung’s sunshine smile

he wraps you in a bear hug and releases this huge sigh and is like

“thank god i’ve literally had a crush on you since i saw you at the orientation fair”

and you pause and think for a second and you’re like

“taehyung that was 4 months ago… YOU’VE LIKED ME FOR FOUR MONTHS AND??? DIDN’T TELL ME SHHJSKHDJDHJSDHK DUMBASS OHMYGOD”

and at this point taehyung is super confused bc he rlly thought you’d be happy to hear it but instead you hit him on the head so he’s just like ??? por quay

and you have to force yourself to calm down and explain “the only reason i didn’t want to go out with you is bc i thought you only liked me bc we’re soulmates,, if i knew you had a crush on me!! i’d have said yes”

taehyung scratches his head and says “i thought i made it pretty obvious why do you think i always stared,,, and remember when i came up to you and tried to talk to you even though i knew i was on a sugar high and it was 500% likely i would say something dumb”

you’re just trying to process this bc ,,, taehyung thinks ‘have u seen my alligator’ = 'i like u’

and your eyebrows are scrunched together and you’re just trying to form a sentence to express how dumb you think he is

so you don’t notice him inching closer and closer

until he plants a lil peck on your lips and you blink once… twice… thrice

that!! just happened

taehyung just kissed you:))))

but he looks totally calm while you’re basically a tomato

and he does this half smirk half smile and is like “does this mean i can brag to people that you’re my gf/bf”

you hit taehyung on the head again

aNYWHO!!

so you and taehyung as a couple!

you two decide to join the bird watching club and like half the time it’s just you actually trying to find cool looking birds and taehyung stealing kisses and hiding your binoculars

and the other half of the time is when you actually want to be cuddly and sweet n stuff but taehyung is a tease so he ignores you and is like “woah is that an owl!! haha look y/n it’s an owl”

your movie marathons only get more frequent and sometimes you invite namjoon and even taehyung’s roommate seokjin (much to taehyung’s dismay)

coffee dates!! whenever one of you has a stressful test or project and needs to unwind

and also you two surprise each other with pastries from the café when you see each other in class

taehyung loves to share his hoodies with you

you think it’s rlly cute that his mom still sews his name into the tags of all of his favorite clothes

so imagine your surprise when one day you go to slip on this bright red sweatshirt of his and you glimpse at the tag and you see taehyung and y/n

you’re so soft because taehyung feels proud enough of this relationship to tell his parents about you and now you can’t wait to meet his mom bc she seems like the sweetest person ever

overall you and taehyung are just super sweet and goofy and you just fit so well together that you’ve managed to convince yourself that this whole soulmate system must be real bc you honestly can’t see yourself without him