#ends up making it look like really nice old retro posters

[lakekdoesthings]

Proud of you for even getting to lineart

Absolutely not me

I have 10000 wips disease, I fear

[carmen-fics-for-thee]

The Girls' Sleepover

Summary: Carmen comes to see Julia again, hoping they can be friends. Julia arranges a 'girls night' and they have an old fashioned sleepover. Carmen decides to make a paper Valentine for her crush, and Julia realizes something about him. (Carmen and Julia friendship. Also CarChase ship.)

...

"Oh! Carmen. You came to the office...?" Julia said uncertainly.

There was the legend herself, Carmen Sandiego, poised in her long red trenchcoat and hat.

"I thought, you know... I could maybe get to know you a little better? Since you were so nice the last time we met."

Julia smiled sadly, knowing there might be another reason she was here. She'd felt it when her eyes softened around him. Deep in her heart she wished someone would come solely for her. But she'd do anything to ensure both of them happiness.

"Inspector Devineaux is not here today, he is busy on another mission. I could leave him a message for you if you like." She offered.

Carmen shrugged.

"What would I tell him...? Honestly, even convincing him I'm innocent would take days."

"That is true," Julia admitted. She thought for a bit. "Well, uh, what are you here for?"

She looked away, wondering what she could say. What would make Julia believe her? She really did come to see her after all.

"I don't know. We could do something that friends do..."

Carmen wracked her brain to think of something that wasn't a crime or a prank. She didn't want to get her new friend into trouble.

"Uhh..." Carmen said. "We could maybe have a sleepover? A girls' night?"

At this Julia brightened.

...

So starting off the girls night, Carmen wrote down all the things a regular sleepover would entail. They'd get their teddy bears ready, and then play a few games, tell scary stories, and finally fall asleep.

The room was small, a square shaped room, with a short bed in the north corner and a regular sized bookcase in the east corner. Posters of boy bands decorated Julia's room. There were also a few antiques she'd collected, an old rotary phone, a polaroid camera, a record player... even a retro desk lamp.

Julia was afraid Carmen would call her a nerd, but she was impressed.

"Wow, Julia! Who knew you were so cool?!"

She was taken aback. Pointing at herself hesitantly, she made sure she'd heard right.

"Me...?"

Carmen nodded.

Julia smiled.

They decided to make crayon drawings next.

On one drawing there was a huge coloured landscape of the Golden Gate Bridge, with Carmen swinging down from it with a grappling hook. Julia and Chase were in hot pursuit. It was hard to know what possessed Julia to make such an exquisite drawing, but she did her best, using the crayons to fill out the whole paper. Proudly, she held up her drawing to Carmen.

Looking up, Carmen smiled, holding the paper in her hands.

"Oh wow! ... Julia, this is amazing!" She looked over every detail thrice in her head. "You're a real artist!"

Chuckling, she showed Julia her own drawing. It was stick figures of her found family. All of the figures were smiling and holding hands. There was Carmen, Player, Zach, Ivy, Grey, Chase, and Julia. They were standing in a field of grass and flowers, with a smiling sun in the sky.

"Aww! Carmen, that's adorable!"

Her smile brightened.

Even moreso when Julia poked her sides.

"Juliiiieeee! Hehehhee, stop!"

Carmen decided to fight back, tickling Julia's sides as well.

"Hahahahaahaa! Carmen!"

Both of them laughed for a while.

Finally they decided to move on to making paper crafts. Carmen made a red heart Valentine with white lace. She couldn't really think of what to write on it; it should be nothing that could identify her as the Valentine sender, but romantic nonetheless. Finally she ended up with a red heart that said, "You're really something! - Your Secret Admirer."

She gave it to Julia to pass on.

Julia chuckled.

"He's really something, alright."

Carmen nodded, but this time she didn't smile. Noticing, Julia's gaze softened. Yeah, she'd messed up... She reached out her hand and offered a hug, not wanting Carmen to feel sad.

"I-I didn't mean it like..." Her eyes begged for Carmen to understand. It was true that she'd had to deal with Chase on a daily basis and he could be a handful. But she hadn't needed to rub it in. "I'm sorry."

Having looked away, Julia didn't realize when Carmen had accepted the hug; and her apology.

"It's alright. It was- it was just a joke." She forced a smile.

Julia took the Valentine from the floor into her hands. It was well made, no loose glue gun strings. The name Chase was written on the front in black crayon with drawn hearts surrounding it. Perhaps Carmen was wrong about not being good at art; her skills simply lay in a different kind of art. In any case, Julia wasn't going to judge her friend on her romantic tastes. There were good aspects of Chase too, and when you're the girl he wants it must feel pretty special. Wait a second. The girl he wants...

Smiling, and with a newfound optimism, she patted Carmen's back.

"You know what I realized? He's always thinking about you." Remembering all the times they'd spent chasing Carmen around the world made Julia feel a sense of happiness for her friend. Perhaps the Inspector was simply disguising his true feelings? If another woman asked him out, the Inspector would always turn her down. It was never about Julia, or any other girl. Only Carmen. She chuckled at that. "You're the only girl he wants. If he finally realizes the same thing, maybe we can get somewhere!"

Carmen looked up hopefully.

"What's your plan?"

Julia got out her phone. She called up Chase Devineaux.

After much arguing back and forth about the phone's ringing making him jump, letting the bad guy get away, Julia finally explained herself.

"Chase, think about it. What woman do you want most in the world?"

"Carmen Sandiego," he replied quickly and confidently. "I am sure to apprehend that thief one of these days!"

"No, no! What I mean is..." She paused and her voice grew softer. "Do you love her?"

He stumbled on his words.

"Ah-! W-what?! Preposterous! Why would I love that international theif? She's eluded me time and time again, frustrating me every step of the way, and you think I love her?!"

Julia frowned.

"Tell me, how many other women have you thought about in the past month? Name five."

A pause.

"There is um... there is you, right?"

"And...?"

He began to sweat. Looking around for answers, he tried to look for certain identifiable women in the crowd.

"There is um... that woman in the green dress over there! Ah!" He spotted another woman, quickly trying to describe her. "There is a redhead, wearing white! And um... over there! A brunette wearing yellow!"

"Inspector... Do you actually think about these women, or are you trying to evade the question?"

"Gah! Au Revoir!" And he hung up.

"Ha! Got 'im! Talk to you later, Inspector," She teased. And she hung up.

Carmen waited for what he said. Julia smiled.

"I think I got through to him... We'll just need to wait a while, since Devineaux can be very stubborn."

Seeing Carmen pull her legs up to her chest, beaming, Julia knew she made the right choice. It was nice to see Carmen so happy. One day, they'd put all the madness behind them.

Soon they went to sleep, cuddling their teddy bears.

It was a fun day, and Julia felt like she'd made some progress with Chase, finally.

The next day, Julia went into work and showed Chase the Valentine from the secret admirer. To her surprise, he didn't look surprised or make any cutting remark. He only looked at it with a longing look in his eye. Then he tucked it into his coat.

"Carmen..." He said softly.

Julia said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment. Perhaps the Inspector was not as imperceptive as she'd thought.

[xtruss]

Photographer’s AI Side Hustle: Creating Unique Dog Posters

— February 26, 2024 | Matt Growcoot

There are many who say artificial intelligence is about to destroy photography as we know it — but one photographer is using it to earn a little cash on the side.

Before Jim Henderson took up photography at the age of 55 years old, he was an art director and he used his past creative endeavors for a bit of inspiration.

“I’ve always liked these kind of retro travel posters that I’ve seen over the years,” Henderson tells PetaPixel. “So I thought I would make a couple of travel-like posters using my two dogs and posted them to social media.”

People love their dogs. So, perhaps unsurprisingly, people started enquiring if Henderson could make the retro AI posters for their own pooches.

“I just started doing it on the side,” he explains. “It’s not my job. I’m still a photographer. It’s more of a hobby than anything but I enjoy doing them and people really like getting a nice piece of art of their dog.”

He says that right now it is not paying all the bills — far from it. But they are proving popular and he finds the process fun.

“People seem to get a lot of joy out of these. A fair amount of ones I do are for people whose dogs passed away and they like having something that’s not just a photo but something that looks a little bit more heroic,” he says.

Methodology

It is possible to use a photograph as a prompt for AI image generators — but that’s not what Henderson does. Instead, he gets people who want a poster to fill out a profile sheet about their dog so he can understand their personality more to better inform the poster.

He does get reference photos sent over that were taken by the owners but they are used to inform his text prompt — rarely does he use them as a prompt.

“The AI is getting better and you can put an image of the dog into a prompt but it hasn’t worked out all that well and I’ve ended up using mostly just word prompts,” he says. “I’m not trying to duplicate a photo.”

The 69-year-old insists he’s “not very tech savvy” but he uses Midjourney which operates off of Discord.

“It’s really not that bad. There are a lot of people offering tips and advice out there. There is an art to a prompt. I don’t just type in a prompt and get the poster — it doesn’t work like that,” he says.

“I type in a prompt and it gives me something back and then I have to start refining it. Sometimes you just have to keep running and running and running — and rerunning.”

Henderson says when he’s creating a custom piece for someone it has to look like their dog.

“You can just plop in a picture of a golden retriever because body shapes are different and some are stocky, some are lean,” he says.

In fact, most of the time he has to take the AI image into Photoshop to perfect the picture and that’s why he thinks anyone doing this will get better results if they are a creative person and have an eye.

AI: Friend or Foe?

Henderson says that he will be winding his photo business down one day but adds that if he was 25 or 30 years old he would be concerned about AI.

“There’s definitely stuff that photographers shoot now that they won’t be shooting in five or 10 years time,” he says.

But Henderson doesn’t have as much disdain for AI as many other photographers do.

“The reality is: it’s here and you need to figure out how to work with it. It can definitely help a photographer in certain ways. You just have to figure out how to utilize it to the best of your abilities.”

[skei-seems]

Professor Reid

(PART 1)

Summary: Reader kicks off first semester of university with a team project that requires a trip to another city. Her professor, Spencer Reid, is to accompany the team, but the journey takes an interesting turn when he offers to show her a pub in the city one night.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Category: Smut [NSFW]

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Swearing

A/N: Please send me some feedback on this or requests, I would love to hear your thoughts. Also, do you guys prefer first person x reader or second person pov? Part 2 linked below ;)

-------

      You could always see something coming from a mile away, it was a peculiar skill of yours to be able to plan out every possible outcome of any situation (especially the worst ones) in order to satisfy your anxiety. University was a new ground, it was unfamiliar and untrodden, and that’s what made it dangerous - the unforeseeable future.

      As soon as you started criminal psychology class, you knew it would be your favourite. Perhaps it was because of the interesting analogy strategies, or the way the minds of the psychos worked, but mainly it was because of the gorgeous golden-locked professor. His intelligent hands gestured each time he spoke and the way they often ran through his hair to fix it, his big brown eyes scanning the room which sometimes met your gaze, and the nerdy button up shirts he wore was enough to set your lust for him on fire. The development of crushes on people that would never be interested in you was a frequent occurrence, and the probability of something happening between you was far from reality - you knew that - and that was where the satisfaction lay in it. Knowing nothing can or will happen, the infatuation was innocent and improbable. 

      “Okay class, I have an announcement to make,” the voice that sent goosebumps over your skin each time it sounded, boomed through the large classroom. You focused from a distance on his sharp eyes, before he looked down at a piece of paper in his hands. “There will be a trip to another university to join a team which will conduct a research project together,”  some ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ sounded there, ”but unfortunately I cannot take all of you.” Disappointment flooded through the room now, but a little jolt of excitement went through your body. A trip, to another town, with the hot professor. He continued, “I have selected five students based on how well they did in the last examination, the names of whom I read now please meet with me after class.”

      Your heart sped up in your chest, you were even afraid the thumping could be heard by your surrounding classmates as he read off the names, and stopped when yours was the last. Part of you wished you could be as calm as the others when class ended and they slowly made their way to his desk, but the other part of you wanted to lather up every bit of excitement that coursed through your body as you approached the tall smart-looking man.

      As he briefed the group on what you need to prepare and the plans for the trip, you calmed down and made some notes, but a strand of hair had fallen into his face which distracted you. When he finished the briefing and made sure everyone was okay with spending their first week of holiday doing a school trip, everyone made to leave. You pocketed your phone, looked around when you heard him say “Bye guys, see you on the weekend!” and made eye contact, he smiled awkwardly and averted his gaze to the others walking out the door. Your heart immediately started racing in your chest and only calmed once you got home, and you could not get those beautiful brown eyes out of your head.

---

      It was the day of the trip. You would be driving together in a bus and stay at a hotel; you had free time in the mornings and evenings, project participation during the day and one free days to tour the city with your guide, professor Reid. Apparently if you did well, you would be allowed a night of celebration at the end in a very fancy club, which did not really seem like a reward to you, clubs were loud and full of sweaty drunk strangers.

      The drive was long and seemingly endless with not much to do, and you were slightly amused to see that both you and the professor had brought a book to entertain yourselves with for the trip. When you arrived, the whole group set out to their rooms (each with a roommate) except for the professor, who made sure you knew where it was and that each had his number to call in case of emergency. He gave everyone the rest of the afternoon off to do your own activities, but you weren't allowed to go off alone, and had to be back at the hotel by 10.

      You spent most of your free time reading or putting together work for the project, and by the third day the others had quickly formed a bond and gone off without you to have fun. It was about six thirty when you heard a knock on the door. Wondering who it was, you opened it to the gorgeous blonde professor.

“Hi Y/N, the others have all gone with the other university’s team to a restaurant and I’ve allowed them a later curfew, don’t you want to join them?” He asked, with a slight concern (probably because you were always alone). His brows were knit into a neat frown and you could imagine them being like that for a whole other reason, almost buckling your knees.

      “Um,” you stumbled, thrown off by his sudden appearance and question, and thought for a moment. “To be honest I don’t really feel like being in that big group after spending the whole day with them.”

At this, he looked down and smiled, almost in a knowing way. “Well, if you want to get out, I’m going to meet some of my old university friends at a place that’s really nice,” then he sheepishly added, “and probably better than the restaurant your classmates chose.”

You bit your lip, he was asking you to come with him, without any other student present. “Your old university friends?” 

“Yeah, this was where I studied before I moved and joined the FBI to become a profiler.” 

Before you could answer, he added, “I just, couldn’t help but notice you haven’t gone out at all with the others. It wouldn’t sit right with me if you spend another night all by yourself.” 

His words sent a rush of goosebumps over your skin. It made you look away with embarrassment that your introverted habits had not gone unnoticed. “Okay,” you said with forced sureness, and shyly looked at him again, “could I maybe just change real quick?”

      He studied you a little and nodded. “Meet me at the foyer in fifteen minutes. You won’t regret it.” He seemed pleased with himself at convincing you to come out of your shell, and it sent electric sparks through your body that he made an effort for you, and only you.

      Fifteen minutes later you walked up to the foyer. It turns out he had made the decision to change as well, going for a white buttoned up shirt, black fitting trousers and a pair of high top converse. You could not take your eyes off the man, and your stomach somersaulted at his rolled up sleeves that exposed his veiny forearms and watched wrist. As you came closer, he turned around and let his smouldering brown eyes travel down your body.

       You flushed with warmth and redness as he took in your change of appearance, you wore black skinny jeans, a top that exposed your chest a little more than you would allow at school, and your go-to white sneakers. 

“I was almost afraid you decided to stand me up,” he joked and shuffled his feet as the scent of your elegant rosey perfume engulfed him.

      “Almost,” You chuckled, this informal stance was relaxing.  You made your way down a couple of blocks while the professor talked a bit about the city, and finally entered a retro-looking pub. As you observed the place, you could feel his eyes on you. You realised for the first that he was your grounding now, since there was no one else in the room you knew, an intimate feeling arose at this thought and you moved a little closer to him.

“This is where I spent many a night drinking with my friends,” he said - with pride - while leading you to an empty table. You could hardly picture this smart and always-composed man being drunk, but it was a humoured picture nonetheless. He had to lean in for you to hear him over the music and talking of the people inside, and you could feel his hot minty breath sending tingles across your skin. 

“I like it,” you replied. The bar was old wood, the walls were lined with all kinds of posters and signs that made up the aesthetic, accompanied by a small stage area with a landing dance floor. 

“It’s my favourite, ahh-” he looked up at someone behind you and got up, “here they are.” Your heart skipped a beat, you were always nervous when meeting new people.

“SPENCE, my man!” exclaimed a tall curly haired fellow as they ‘bro-hugged’. A second, more buff and bearded man followed with “Long time no see!” He looked a little older but the two seemed to make sense as a friendship.

      After they exchanged greetings, they realized your presence. Assuming they were out of earshot from a couple of feet away, the curly haired guy complimented professor Reid on his ‘date’ and made a gesture to suggest nice ‘boobs.’  You had to hide your smile when the professor went crimson and explained that you were his student, but you could feel your legs aching a little at the sight of him being flustered. He glanced at you nervously and ran a hand through his loose curls.

      Finally, the men joined the table and introduced themselves, sharing stories of when they were your age. The professor seemed so different like this, so warm and relaxed, as compared to his usual formal state. You exchanged glances and a couple of smiles through the drinks and conversations, and you couldn’t push away the thought that maybe you were forming a connection. You focused on the way he sometimes licked his lips or put his fingers to his mouth, and imagined sucking on them, squeezing your thighs at the thought. Maybe you would be different after the trip, but you were snapped back to reality when the two of his friends decided to call it a night.

As the two were saying their goodbyes and making their way to the door. You checked your phone and shocked, exclaimed “It’s only ten o’clock!” 

This earned a beautiful laugh from your professor. “I suppose that’s late when you’re my age. But we don’t have to leave. Wanna play a game of pool?”

Relief flooded unto you, you did not want this to be over, no one else had seen the professor like this and - despite your nervousness - you were having fun. The pub had grown fuller than when you first came in. Noticing a couple of lustful glances to your body, and to avoid being crumpled or lost between passing bodies, Spencer lightly put a hand on your lower back as he guided you in front of him over to the pool tables. The touch was barely, and so subtle, but it created a sense of dominince over you and made the area where his fingers connected with the fabric of your shirt tingle and spread to your lower belly. 

He was pretty good at the game, hitting with careful preciseness and studying the table for a while before taking each of his turns. Focusing like him was a rather difficult task when you kept watching his veiny hands wrap around the pool stick and grip it tightly before he bent over to shoot. It was a little funny that he took it with such seriousness, but this forced you to do the same, and soon there was an atmosphere of strong competitiveness evident between you two. It came down the last couple of balls, when you decided to throw in a bet. 

“If I win what do I get?” You confidently challenged, the alcohol had given your voice a certain assertiveness it lacked when you were sober, but this could also be a bad thing - the alcohol talking for you.

“If you win I buy the next round of drinks, if I win you pay for the round.” He said without thinking too hard about it, then returned his focus back to the game.

A couple moments later professor Reid won, and you reluctantly pulled out your wallet from your bag and made your way to the bar. The look on his face was triumph, but it had been a little exciting for the duration of the game that he considered you his equal, as competition. While you waited for the two glasses of Jack and Coke, a hand groped you from behind. You jumped out of the stranger’s grasp and tried to put as much distance between the two of you, but the line was cramped and it didn’t help much. 

A sloppy looking man smirked at you, “How bout I get you a drink, darling.”

“How bout you leave her alone.” A firm voice said behind you, and you felt a warm hand sneak around your waist.

The guy looked annoyed but retreated from the bar. You turned around, a little thrown off from the interaction. “Thank you for saving me, professor.” You said, looking into his chocolate eyes staring off at the guy, now darkened with a little - anger? protectiveness? or was it dominance? Either way, it excited you. 

“But I can handle myself”

He cocked his head and eyed you smugly. “Just stick closer to me from now.” He smiled with reassurance, not taking his hand off your waist, and the creep left your mind. All you wanted now was him.

You took your drinks and went back to the pool tables, all of them were occupied. Two friendly biker-looking guys offered to play in teams with you, though. You took on the challenge and played, but you were focusing on a different game. The alcohol had flushed out any thoughts or worry about the age difference or the fact that he was your professor, you were’t sure how, but you were going to get him one way or another. The game progressed slowly, and you got the opportunity to bend down in front of the professor. Behind you, you heard the biker next to him say “dude, if you don’t hit that, I will,” and felt a subtle, but not too soft landing on your ass. A yelp escaped your mouth, more out of surprise than anything, but you shot the ball in and turned around. Spencer looked embarrassed, and pulled you away a little and apologised. 

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, sir,” you insisted, then adding, “I kinda liked it.”

His mouth formed into an ‘O’ shaped, and with his eyebrows raised he let out a chuckle, but you could see something change in his eyes as he glanced at your lips.

You were pulled out of your daze when you heard it - the song. The song you had to dance to no matter what, so you grabbed your drink and downed the last of it. “Come on, professor,” you pulled him by his hand.

“What’s happening?” he asked, looking a little amused.

“We have to dance to this song, it’s illegal not to.”

      He laughed and followed you. The world was spinning a little and the alcohol had made your body warm, you would have to get out for fresh air sooner than later or you’d start sweating. Not knowing what was going through your or the professors mind, whatever it was, you hoped it was the same thing.

Once on the dance floor, the two of you easily fit in the crowd’s rhythm. He knew the lyrics just as well as you, and you jumped and moved around each other mouthing the words. A layer of sweat had started to make his shirt cling to him, and his hair was a little dampened, god he looked good. As the chorus ended, he stopped momentarily to unbutton his shirt a little for some air. His exposed chest was a huge turn on and you moved a little closer to him, but someone pushed through the crowd and squashed you right into each other. 

      This was the closest you had ever been, your bodies were completely pressed against each other and his cologne was overwhelming your senses. With your hand on his chest you looked up at him, resuming to the rhythm of the song, but the two of you remained close. He made no move to push you away, he just seemed deeply in though. With a last muster of confidence, you turned around and pushed your lower half onto his and felt him harden against you. Glad for the blaring music at that moment, you moaned loudly. For a moment he did nothing, then his hands shyly placed themselves on your hips.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe you should move away and pretend it hadn’t happened, but he pulled you closer by the waist and kept you rooted to the spot. So there was a dominant part in him, this pushed away the doubts you had momentarily and you continued to rub against his hard groin. The song changed to a slower, more sexy one. He hung his head so it was next to yours, and you could feel his sticky curls tangle with your hair. His hands were on your waist, guiding you and every now and then moving higher to just below your breasts. You slid down against him slowly, then slowly pushed your butt up back against his hardness. Just the thought of what the two of you looked like at that moment could send you over the edge.

      Unable to resist seeing what he looked like, you turned around and flung your arms around his neck, his hair was wet and messy, some parts sticking to his forehead, and his chest was rising and falling at a fast pace. What made you stop was how he was staring you right in the eye through his locks, like there was no one else in the room, you pondered whether or not to kiss him but it was hot, it was so hot in the room.

You pulled free from what seemed like your wildest fantasy come true and made way to the exist and out into the open air. Professor Reid had followed you outside into the dark lamp-lit street. He mirrored your out-of-breath and at-a-loss-for-words state. “Let’s get back to the hotel, shall we?” he offered after a while, not looking at you and already walking in the direction of the hotel.

      You weren't sure if he meant that in the sense of sleeping together or just going back to your separate rooms, but the reality of it had sobered you up a little and you were feeling a little nervous now. He seemed.. angry? or what he frustrated? Things seemed so obvious back on the dance floor but now they seemed cloudy and unclear.

When you finally made your way back to the hotel the nervousness had almost eaten you up, and you were shaking. You and Spencer hadn’t said a word the entire way back, and the silence hadn’t helped your anxiety. He stopped suddenly and you walked into him, not realising you had already arrived in from of your hotel room. 

“Do you have your key card?” he finally spoke up, his voice was coarse and full of restraint.

      You nodded, turned and swiped the card to open the door. Stepping half inside you peeked around, your roommate wasn’t home yet. When you turned back to face Spencer, he was staring at you with such intensity it seemed to sear holes in you. Boldly, you took a step toward him. He immediately grabbed you by the waist and kissed you forcefully. Inside, he slammed you against the door to close it and swiped his tongue over your lips, then inside your mouth to explore. His hands were all over your body and yours tangled in his long, messy curls. When you felt his soft lips connect with the sensitive area of your neck, you moaned.

“Professor,” you squeaked. Your voice was full of need and earned a rough groan from him.

      He picked you up and set you on the counter in the small kitchen. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, looking into your eyes, grabbing the back of your neck and reattaching your lips. His words were sending a rush to your core; you needed more friction. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his hardness now rubbing right against your beating core. He groaned and slowly grinded against you, making you want more. His tall lean figure against yours was too much to handle, it was overpowering and you couldn’t stop the soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

As his large hand massaged your breast and he continued to rock his hips against yours gradually at a faster pace, your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. 

He was in the middle of pulling off your shirt when a loud knock on the door made you freeze. He pulled away, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Who is it?” You called, your voice (and legs) shaking.

It turned out to be your roommate. The two of you swiftly fixed yourselves up and you opened the door. With the explained that you and the professor were just working on something more for tomorrow’s project session, he bid you goodnight and left hurriedly.

----

      The next day you awoke not sure of how to go about things, or if you should just pretend that nothing had happened at all. But all that was not possible at all, you realised, when you saw him that morning. All the events of the previous night rushed at once into your mind and you bit your lip, it wasn’t over. He cleared his throat and shoved a hand into his pocket while addressing the group, his eye contact with you being only brief, yet strong.

During lunch break you wanted to speak with him, and found him in the cafeteria’s far end. Before coming around the corner, you stopped. He was on the phone.

“I know I know, Sweetness, I love you.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, he had a girlfriend. How could you be a wedge between his relationship, you had messed up real bad, but then again, he was the one who kissed you...

     You avoided him for the rest of the day, and the next even though he asked to see you twice. Finally you received a text “Can we talk, please?” Yet you still ignored him, and even forced yourself to spend your free time with the group. It wasn’t too difficult avoiding him, but on the last day it was announced that since the group did so well, they would be celebrating at the great club in town - accompanied by the teachers of course. 

      You groaned. Slowly, anger had started to rise up to you. He was the one who had known he had a girlfriend, not you. He could have stopped it at any moment, but he didn’t. It was infuriating. Revenge may be the best plot. So you put on the sexiest clothes you could find, and met up with the group.

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

To be continued...  PART TWO AVAILABLE HERE: https://skei-seems.tumblr.com/post/642815872752353280/professor-reid-part-2

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter thirteen

here’s it is! it’s a shorter chapter, but i hope to have chapter fourteen up within two weeks, so be on the look out for that! if you enjoyed the chapter, reblogs are greatly appreciated! it helps make the effort needed to write the chapters feel worth it! 

here’s the link for ao3

Takashi’s Batting Cage was a quaint, almost run down affair not far from Seneca Falls. The building was owned and maintained by an old Japanese man that had immigrated in the late sixties, and there was something about the place that made it feel like it was frozen in time. The walls were plastered vintage, hand-painted posters of bands like The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and The Shadows. Mr. Takashi himself often sat near the entrance with a cigarette hanging between his lips, polishing the wooden baseball bats that he had carved.

Behind him, there were two kiosks, one where you paid for rounds in the batting cage, and another where you could buy hotdogs made by Mr. Takashi’s wife, sold cheaply at a buck fifty. All you got was a bun, hotdog, minced onions, and a drizzle of mustard and ketchup, but Reyna had assured Annabeth that they were nothing short of life-changing.

The kiosks themselves faced a huge chain link fence that housed three pitching machines that whirred like projector reels. The fence was painted green and touching it was enough for the paint to flake onto your fingers.

To a newcomer, it didn’t make for a particularly impressive sight, but there was a warmth and coziness to the place that could only be experienced firsthand. Over the years, the batting cages had developed a devout following as a spot where anyone could go to have a good time. Spending even a few minutes there was enough to leave the impression that the place was well and truly loved, like an old baseball mitt.

Annabeth had never heard of the place until Reyna had suggested they hang out there the Saturday after Percy’s swim meet. She was therefore surprised to see the number of cars parked outside, although she suspected that that might also have had to do with the weather calming down some. Reyna was already waiting for her inside when Annabeth entered, leaning against the wall.

Once she spotted her, Reyna offered Annabeth a smile and said, “Hey, thanks for making the drive.”

“It was no big deal,” Annabeth said, unwrapping her scarf. “I couldn’t help being curious after how enthusiastic you sounded about the place.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and her smile widened. “Oh boy, the pressure is on now, huh?”

“Just a little,” Annabeth said, grinning.

“Ooh, scary,” Reyna said. “C’mon, lets head inside.”

Annabeth nodded and followed Reyna to the first kiosk. There were families using two of the pitching machines, but thankfully they would have the third to themselves. A wooden sign was bolted to the kiosk, informing her that it was three dollars for five pitches. Reyna mulled it over for a short while before handing fifteen dollars over to the clerk and looking at Annabeth.

“I think we can start with that much and see how you like it,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth nodded and took a helmet from the clerk behind the kiosk before heading inside the cage with Reyna. They slipped off their jackets and set them aside on top of wooden bench that sat against the fence. The astroturf inside the cage was an oddly modern touch that felt anachronistic when juxtaposed with the otherwise retro atmosphere, but Annabeth didn’t have long to dwell on it because she was forced to move off to the side for Reyna’s first round on the machines.

Reyna slipped on her helmet and took a few practice swings before she stepped up to the plate and nodded to the assistant operating the pitching machine. The machine whirred on the far side of the fence and shot a ball towards them at incredible speed. Annabeth could barely even see the ball, but Reyna waited for the right moment and swung, making perfect contact. The ball cracked off the bat and sailed across the cage.

Annabeth focused more on the second pitch so that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself when it came for her to try as well. It was still almost faster than she could register, but even Reyna missed this time, which made her scowl. Although Reyna hit the three remaining pitches, she still looked peeved when she handed Annabeth bat at the end of her turn.

As she moved towards the plate, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting a single ball. Her suspicions were confirmed when the first ball fired past her before she even had a chance to react. The second one was no better, but she could at least make out the course of the ball. She managed to swing on the third and fourth pitches, but she didn’t make any contact. It was on the final fifth ball that she grazed the ball with her bat, sending it shooting upwards into the fence.

She ignored the way her face burned and turned to Reyna with a wry smile. “I think I’m gonna need you to give me some tips.”

“Your form could use some work,” Reyna admitted, stepping towards Annabeth.

Reyna put her hands on Annabeth’s hips and turned her slightly. “Angle your hips like this. Turn your shoulders a bit more this way. Move your left hand a little further down the bat.”

Annabeth couldn’t help feeling flustered by how casually Reyna was shifting her around. She was exactly the most touchy-feely person. She was only comfortable with it when it was someone she knew really well, but she was surprised to realize she was far less uncomfortable with Reyna than she thought she would have been. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if Reyna was aware of what she was doing.

“Do another round. I’ll go after you,” Reyna said, stepping back.

Annabeht cleared her throat and nodded before turning towards the pitching machines again. She grazed the first ball again and missed the second one entirely. On the third pitch, she finally managed to make contact, but the ball didn’t travel very far. The fourth and fifth pitches traveled further each time, but they didn’t pop off the bat the way they had when Reyna hit them.

She paid even closer to attention to Reyna during her turn to pick up on what she was doing that Annabeth wasn’t. Reyna missed the first pitch but hit the four subsequent ones. Each one shot farther and farther across the batting cage, soaring higher and higher, almost like she aiming for something. It was then that Annabeth noticed that there was a wooden target tied near the top of the cage. Although Reyna was still off the mark by some ways, she got progressively closer and closer with each attempt.

Nevertheless, Reyna still failed to hit the target once over the course of the next half-hour, which was presumably why she suggested taking a break to get some hotdogs. Annabeth was more than open to the offer, albeit for different reasons. Although she was improving, she still wasn’t anywhere near consistent enough to hit the ball properly more than once or twice a round, and it was beginning to get frustrating.

Once they bought a pair of hotdogs, they sat down at a table facing the fence and watched the other families play while they ate. Annabeth wasn’t really a huge fan of hotdogs, but she had to admit that Reyna had been true to her word.

After her first, she turned to Reyna and said, “Okay, this is stupid good for a dollar fifty.”

Reyna gave her a knowing look and grinned. “I know right?”

“I’ve never heard of this place before,” Annabeth said. “How did you come across it?”

“I heard about someone at school talking about it, so I figured I’d check it out sometime. Seemed like a good way to let off some steam,” Reyna said, taking another bite.

“I don’t if it’s just because this was my first time at a batting cage, but this is a lot harder than it looks.”

Reyna laughed. “That’s because the machines here are faster than at other places. You’re doing really well for your first time, though.”

“You didn’t have nearly as much trouble,” Annabeth noted.

Reyna shrugged and said, “I’ve been coming here for years now. I barely got any hits my first time around either. You’re doing better than I did then for sure.”

Annabeth chased some ketchup threatening to drip off her hotdog. “That would be enough to turn most people off from trying again.”

“It rubs me the wrong way to be shitty at something.”

“A friend of mine who said he went to summer camp with you said you weren’t bad at anything,” Annabeth said, smiling.

“Really? Who?”

“Jason Grace.”

Reyna’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, I remember him. Nice guy. Almost thought I had a crush on him, but that was before I realized I wasn’t straight.”

Well, that was news to her. Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a smirk. “Really?”

Reyna’s face turned a gentle shade of pink, which made Annabeth’s grin widen. “I was like thirteen, okay?”

“I’m not judging or anything,” Annabeth said innocently. “Just thought it was interesting.”

“That shit-eating grin on your face says otherwise,” Reyna grumbled.

“It’s okay, we were all cringe at thirteen.”

Reyna snorted. “Cringe is a good word to describe it, even if it’s mean.”

Annabeth waved her freehand dismissively. “What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s got a hot girlfriend now anyways.”

Reyna gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re straight?”

“What was it you said last time? ‘I might be gay, but I still have eyes?’” Annabeth said. “Same thing, except other way around. Besides, jury’s still out on the topic of my sexuality.”

“Fair play, I guess,” Reyna rolled her eyes. “Speaking of last time, how are things with your fake-boyfriend going?”

Annabeth picked at the onions on her hotdog and said, “You are awfully interested in him despite hating his guts.”

“I don’t hate him,” Reyna protested.

“Thinking he has bad vibes is pretty much the same thing.”

“You’re doing a rather poor job not answering the question. Sounds like something must have happened,” Reyna said suspiciously.

Annabeth sighed and resigned herself to telling Reyna what had happened on New Years and subsequently at the swim meet. Despite her initial reticence, it was honestly refreshing to be open with someone about the whole fake dating arrangement, just like it had the last time they had talked. The main thing that had been bugging Annabeth recently had been how during the aftermath of the swim meet, she’d come face to face with the realization that she had actually been totally okay with the idea of Percy kissing her. More than okay, actually.

I could have stopped the kiss at literally any point if I hadn’t wanted it to happen. It was just as much my decision as it was yours, okay?

Those angry words of hers had kept echoing in her mind at random intervals almost every day. The fact that she had basically implied that she had wanted Percy to kiss her was an epiphany that she still struggled to make sense of. On the surface, she didn’t feel any differently about Percy, but it was the only explanation for why she had felt so disappointed on New Year’s Eve.

“That means I like him, right?” Annabeth asked aloud.

“Babe, you wanted to kiss him so bad you felt disappointed when it didn’t happen.”

Annabeth’s cheeks began to prickle. “I know jack shit about romance and relationships, so excuse me for not knowing.”

Reyna snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “This kind of goes beyond not knowing. It’s honestly kind of mind-boggling to me that you’re struggling so much with the idea that you might have a crush on someone.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I’ve been thinking the same thing too, lately. It seems like it’s natural for everyone else, but it feels so weird to me.”

“At one point, I thought that you were aromantic or something, but I get the vibe that it’s something else. Like, you dissect your emotions so clinically that you abstract them and save yourself from feeling them,” Reyna said.

Annabeth laughed despite herself. “Holy shit, that sounds exactly like what a therapist would say.”

“Fuck off,” Reyna said, bumping her with her shoulder.

Annabeth bit back a smile and said, “Not sure I totally understood you, but you’re sorta right. Only thing is, I feel all my other emotions normally. Just not this stuff.”

Reyna thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know, this is just me talking out my ass, but maybe you have some baggage about romantic relationships or something.

“If that’s you talking out your ass, you’re gonna make me feel real stupid,” Annabeth joked.

Reyna screwed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I take back what I said about having a crush on you. Dealing with this level of sass gives me a fucking headache.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said, holding back a laugh. “I’m usually the one getting bullied, so I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I promise I’ll try to stop.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and looked thoroughly unconvinced, so Annabeth leaned into her and said, “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? When I see you at the Olympics someday, I wanna be able to brag to people that you once thought I was hot.”

“Don’t try and flatter yourself out of this,” Reyna snorted.

“I’m not,” Annabeth protested. “I could totally see you at the Olympics someday.”

At this, Reyna was oddly quiet. Annabeth thought she had touched a nerve, but Reyna looked up at her demurely and said, “You really think so?”

Annabeth blinked. “Yeah, I do.”

A shy smile made its way across Reyna’s face. “Thanks, Annabeth. It’s always been a dream of mine to compete in them someday, so it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I have full faith in you,” Annabeth said earnestly. “I’m sure you can do it.”

Reyna laughed and said, “What ever happened to wanting to beat me at a meet?”

“Oh don’t worry, you can still be an Olympian after I kick your ass at State,” Annabeth said casually.

Reyna raised an eyebrow, her eyes darkening. “Is that so?”

Annabeth coughed surreptitiously and turned to finish her hotdog. Reyna bit back a smile but otherwise chose to spare her by not pursuing the topic any further. The silence gave Annabeth time to collect her thoughts and dwell more on what Reyna had said. There was a lot to process, but one thing in particular had struck a chord with her.

“About what you said earlier, about me having baggage about romance and stuff,” Annabeth began slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like being in a relationship was something meant for me. Not sure if I told you, but my mom left my dad and I when I was still a kid. She never explained why, but it really wrecked the both of us. Eventually, my dad remarried and moved on, but I don’t think I ever did. Move on, I mean. It’s hard for me to think about getting into a relationship when I saw what it did to my family, what it did to me,” Annabeth continued.

Reyna pressed her lips in a line and nodded. “My mom left our family too. I can understand how that would really affect your views on romantic relationships.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Reyna shrugged. “She had a good reason for it, so it’s whatever.”

She was tempted to ask Reyna more about it, but she was afraid of overstepping her bounds so she remained silent.

“I don’t know if it’s something I never wanted or if it’s something that I never allowed myself to want,” Annabeth said quietly.

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Does that even matter though?”

Annabeth looked at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really get any value out of getting an answer to that question? Isn’t the only thing that matters what you want now?”

There was a pause. “I don’t want something that isn’t meant to last.”

“You have no way of knowing unless you give it a shot,” Reyna said softly. ��Besides, what have you got to lose?”

“Everything.” Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I could lose everything. Percy is too important to me. I- I can’t lose him.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “I don’t have any advice for you. I think, at the end of the day, it comes down to what you want and what you’re willing to risk for it. Only you can answer that.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “Yeah. You’re right. I just wish it were easier.”

“Something tells me you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out,” Reyna said. “Besides, if all else fails, we can come here and you can hit baseballs as hard as you fucking can to get it out of your system.”

That managed to get a laugh out of her. “I might have to take you up on that sometime.”

Reyna opened her mouth to say something more, but then she looked past Annabeth’s shoulder and smirked. “Speaking of the devil.”

When Annabeth followed Reyna’s line of sight, she saw Percy standing by the entrance by three of his teammates from the swim team. One of that had said something that made him laugh, so he still hadn’t noticed her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing him here, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it because one of his teammates spotted her and nudged Percy to get his attention.

Percy smiled once he saw her and gave her a small wave. At first, it didn’t seem like he would come over, but his teammates shoved him towards her, making him scowl.

He walked over and said, “Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “Um, yeah, likewise. Reyna invited me here to hangout.”

Percy nodded to Reyna in greeting and said, “Hi, forgot if I ever introduced myself, but I’m Percy.”

Reyna offered him her hand and said, “Reyna. Annabeth here has told me a lot about you.”

He shook it with a bemused smile. “Only good things I hope?”

A sly smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “All sorts of good things actually.”

Percy’s questioning gaze flitted to Annabeth’s for a fraction of a second before immediately returning to Reyna. Though the way they spoke was casual, Annabeth felt a charged tension in the air, like anytime the two of them met. She assumed Percy was only going to make things worse until he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, um, wanted to apologize for how standoffish I acted the last few times we met. It was a dick move, and I’m sorry about that,” he said.

Reyna blinked in surprise. “Oh, no worries. I wasn’t much better either.”

And just like that, the tension dissipated almost immediately. The two of them still looked awkward around each other, but the vague sense of hostility between them had faded. Percy’s apology had been enough of a metaphorical olive branch, Annabeth supposed.

“I know you came here with some friends, but do you want to try going a round or two in the cages with me?” Reyna asked suddenly.

Percy swayed on his heels. “Um.”

Reyna shrugged and said, “Just some friendly competition, promise.”

Percy looked to Annabeth for guidance, but Annabeth was just as clueless about Reyna’s motives as he was so she could only shrug. He mulled over it for a little while longer before nodding and following Reyna inside the batting cage. Before she joined them, Annabeth threw away the left overs of her hotdog and washed her hands to get the ketchup off her fingers. When she returned, Reyna finished slipping on her helmet and turned to Percy.

“We’ll do three rounds each, so fifteen pitches total. The person that hits that wooden target over there the most or gets closest to hitting it wins. Deal?” Reyna explained.

Percy nodded and leaned against the fence, next to the bench where Annabeth sat. They watched Reyna hit four of the first five pitches before it was Percy’s turn. Percy missed the first two pitches and only barely grazed the third one, sending it shooting upwards into the fence. He got decent hits on the last two, but like Annabeth, they barely traveled further than halfway across the batting cage.

Reyna hit four pitches again, and the last three sailed close to the target but fell just short. Percy’s next turn went much like his first. He managed to hit the ball each time, but the contact was too shaky to send it a decent distance. On Reyna’s last turn, she hit every single pitch, each getting closer to the target than the last, but in the end she didn’t manage to hit it. Reyna scowled when she stepped away from the plate and removed her helmet. Annabeth didn’t see why she was so upset. Judging by the previous rounds, it would be very unlikely for Percy to do any better than her.

Percy got good contact on the first three pitches, actually sending them all the way to the back fence, but they lacked the height needed to reach the target. On the fourth pitch, Percy’s grip on the bat slipped, causing it fly out of his hands instead of hitting the ball. His face was grim before the final pitch, but Annabeth could see that there were still traces of hope burning in his eyes. He had been subtly altering each of his swings in the last round, like he was testing something.

The pitching machine launched the last ball towards him, and Percy waited for the right moment before swinging. The ball exploded off his bat and shot all the way to the other side of the cage. Annabeth stood up from the bench and held her breath, watching the arcing trajectory of the ball. When the ball hit the target, barely off center, she grinned and threw an arm around him without thinking.

“Holy shit! You actually did it!” Annabeth beamed.

“Somehow,” Percy said, grinning. “I’m pretty sure that I just got lucky.”

When Reyna cleared her throat, Annabeth grew aware of how close she was to Percy, so she quickly disentangled herself from him, her face burning.

“You won, fair and square,” Reyna said, offering her hand again.

Percy turned to her and shook her hand. “I’m just glad I didn’t totally embarrass myself.”

Reyna rolled her eyes and said, “If anyone embarrassed themselves today, it was me. That was the second time I’ve lost to you.”

Percy furrowed his brow. “Second? There was another time?”

Reyna hummed under her breath, a twinkle in her eye. “I wonder.”

That did nothing to clear his confusion, but it was clear Reyna wasn’t going to elaborate so he didn’t press the issue. It was clear to Annabeth that Reyna was messing with him, but it didn’t seem malicious enough to make her angry. Still, she wished she knew what was going through Reyna’s head.

One of Percy’s teammates called out to him from the rental kiosk, so Percy thanked Reyna for the game and said goodbye to Annabeth before he left. Annabeth waved to him and watched him leave before she turned to Reyna with a frown.

“What was all that about?”

Reyna shrugged. “Nothing.”

“It was super obvious that you were messing with him,” Annabeth said, narrowing her eyes.

“Only a little bit,” Reyna said, smiling. “Don’t worry, it was just for shits and giggles.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “Well, as long as you weren’t doing it to be mean, I guess it’s fine.”

“It’s nothing to get working up about,” Reyna laughed. “How do you feel about going another round?”

It was a poorly disguised attempt to change to the conversation, but Annabeth didn’t feel like pursuing the topic any further, so she sighed and said, “Sure, why not. About time I get my ass kicked again.”

[fancysimpinghere]

Euphories (Sykkuno x reader imagine)

well hello everyone, its me. It’s my first post here, so I kinda don’t know how to act, well, I’m trying to be natural but as you can see, I failed on the start so maybe we can skip this awkward attempt to make a good impression.

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

summary: You always liked video games and vintage aesthetic, so when you saw a strange signboard informing about small shop with games and videotapes in your town, you can’t help but go there and check it out. They say that curiosity killed the cat, but when you entered the shop you weren’t sure if you’re dying from curiosity, but maybe from the cuteness in stranger’s smile.

based on the plot from “Euphories” Videoclub

It was getting darker, when you left your apartment and went for a small walk. You always liked to catch fresh air before sleep, and even more you liked summer sunsets and evenings. It was something magical in beautiful view, accompaned by natural sounds of your small town - quiet music from restaurants, laughing kids, jingles from trams. For others it could be bothering, but for you, it was not. Delicate ambient sounds was calming your nerves and taking your mind away from busy day of working you had just finished. You wandered the narrow streets and watched light plays on the walls of apartment houses around you. The air started to get cooler and more fresh, so you breathed it deeper. You know this town like your own pocket - you grew up here and have great memories from your childhood, which returned to you during walks like this. Sometimes you were playing outdoors with your friends, sometimes when the weather were not that good you stayed  home and played video games with your older brother. You smiled when you recalled this memories - you shared this passion with your brother and you both were spending a lot of time breaking records and learning new techniques. It was fun. You were lost in memories when you heard little squeak from your left side. Your head turned in direction of the sound and you started searching source of it. You spotted something fluffy under the small signboard that was standing in archway to apartment house. Small creature looked at you from it’s place, watching you with big, cat eyes and squeaked again.  - Oh, hi buddy. - you cooed at this poor thing, your eyes roaming surroundings and catch the better sight of signboard. Join us on the time travel, was written on dark surface with pale letters. Under text was drawing of video tapes and gaming pad, and the signboard was wrapped in the colorful lights. You didn’t know that it was shop like this in your town, so you immediately grew curious. It was quiet again, you looked around but there was no signs of a cat. You shrugged shoulders.

- Hope you have a place to sleep, kitty. - you murmured as if it could hear or understand you. Your thoughts returned to mysterious signboard and you take a look at it again. There was small arrow pointed at the dark archway. You took a few steps closer to look inside and you spotted another signboard - this one was with neon letters, which were saying: Video Games And Film Tapes. You calculated in your mind if checking this shop will be worth your time, but your curiosity won the battle and you started to walk down the archway. Neon sign stayed behind you as you walked, echo of your steps getting louder. When you get to the end of this tunnel, in front of your eyes appeared warmly lit up shop window with small, colorful posters of game heroes and movie stars. Window was huge and encouraged you to enter the shop. Before you geto to the door, you started to be afraid if the shop is still open for today. But you didn’t spotted any signs, so you grab the doorknoob and twisted it. To your joy door opened and soon you were inside the shop. Small bell jingled and announced your entering. When you took your surroundings, you gasped with delight. Colorful tree lights and posters were hanging on the walls, making a magical, warm athmosphere. Behind the counter you saw old man, probably the owner of the shop. At first you thought he was talking with someone, but seconds after the realization hit you. You giggled when you realized that sounds he was making actually was snoring and man was deep asleep. But then you started to worry - what if someone was there before you, stole something and this man will wake up and will acuse you of this? Before you even can make any sound or move, you heard someone approaching you. 

- Uhm... he- hello. - you turned in the direction of soft boyish voice. In front of you was standing young man, you could say that you both were on similar age, but you have never seen him before. He has dark hair with forelock almost falling on his eyes, and before you could make any statement about this boy in your head, you have to admit that he is extremely cute. 

- It is very nice seeing you here, can I help you with something? - he asked with this soft voice, almost avoiding eye contact. You blushed, because your heart almost melted at his words. You knew that he probably welcomed every client here with this phrase, but something in his voice made you feel special.

- Oh, I’m... I came here just to look. - your tongue tangled with words when you realised you are actually supposed to answer his question if you want to make good impression. - I just saw the signboard and thought this place has to be interesting. I really like old video games.  - you said, smiling softly at the boy. He looked away again and you saw small blush creeping his neck. He laughs nervously, automaticly covering up his smiling mouth with his hand.

- Uhm, me too. That’s why I started to working there. - he said and finally looked into your eyes. You knew that your thoughts probably sounded cliche, but you could swear that there was something sparkling in his eyes, something that awaken butterflies under your heart. You were rather shy with new people and you never know how you found the courage to keep the conversation going, but quiet voice in your head were whispering to you to not waste this opportunity. 

- Actually if I am here...- you started, not knowing if it’s a good idea, but it was your only idea to spend some more time with cute stranger. - ... I can take a look of games that you have here. Could you show me the way?

The boy’s eyes sparkled with joy at your question and you again almost melted when you’ve heard his giggle.

- Okay, let me show you. - your heart swelled with hope and excitment at his words. He let you to the video games section and you gasp with astonishment. It looked like alley in the library, but the showcases were lower, reaching your shoulders, and not with books, but with games. Some positions were highlighted with small led lamps, some were set in special showcases with small retro gadgets - figurines of game heroes, key chains, models etc. - Wow, you’ve got here every parts of the Legends of Astoria! - you gasped, mindlessly pointing at the shelf with your beloved game. - It was my favourite, till the Prince in Distress were announced!

- Oh, I see you’ve played as much as me. - your companion chuckled soflty. - My favourite game was Space Ruler.

- Oh, really? - you asked, really amazed. - I loved it, I had every VHS in my special collection. I always adore princess Aria, she was my favourite heroine of all the time. Boy stayed silent for a moment, looking at you with contemplative face. Then he turned away and started to look for something on the lowest shelf.

- Hmm, I’m pretty sure you didn’t have this part. - he said finally, turning his face to you and coming a bit closer. - It is a special edition, limited. This is one from four avaliable pieces of this part.

You couldn’t believe your ears, when you heard his statement. It sounded ubelievable, but he was right - you have never seen this piece and you were sure of it. 

- Oh my...- you whispered, gently reaching to touch the cover of cassette. Your fingers gently brushed plastic surface. For a second you had a prickling sensation, but it finished faster than you could say.

- Do you want to hold it? - boy asked, looking at you with warm smile. Something like hope were glistening in his eyes.

- Can I? - you really wanted to feel VHS in your hands. From what boy were saying and your own thoughts you were sure that this cassette is worth a fortune. He nodded in answer and held out his hand. When you catch game with your palm, somethins strange happened. Suddenly you were not holding game, but boy’s hand, and your surroundings started to spin and flicker. You didn’t know whats happening, and then you started to fall. Air was ruffling your hair and you started to scream. You looked around and spotted your companion. He had a really shocked expression on his face, and you saw a guilt in his eyes.

- Close your eyes and don’t let go of my hand! - he tried to shout, but you had a feeling that his voice was to soft to do this, but you understood him anyway. You can’t do much in this situation, you could just hold him for your dear life and pray to stay alive. part 2

[lasting-inkpressions]

Burning Up [2/4]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4.1k

Prefer reading it on AO3?

It was raining heavily, the kind of rain that would drench you if you stepped out for just a second. Denali sighed as she stared out the office window, cursing herself for forgetting her umbrella at home. The weather app had warned her of the impending rain, but she’d forgotten as soon as she got a message from Rosé requesting that their morning meeting be pushed up, and so she had to rush out the house earlier than usual.

She supposed she could call an Uber, but was hesitant about spending the money. Sure Denali could afford it now with how much she made, but it was still nice knowing that she didn’t spend the extra money on that and instead saved it towards those new skates that she had been eyeing.

Collapsing into her chair, she swivelled around in it, noticing for the first time how deserted the office floor was. Checking her watch, her eyes bugged out at how late it was.

It was already well past 9pm.

Groaning, she slumped over her desk, knocking her head against it, finally feeling how exhausted she really was.

It had been a long week, and there had been a few big cases recently, meaning that there was a lot more paper work than usual. The paralegals had been running around helping out the various partners in the firm, and the managing partners themselves seemed a little bit more pressured than usual.

She remembered seeing Jan running back and forth between Lagoona and Rosé’s offices, followed by a trail of interns carrying various stacks and boxes of files. Lagoona had been the opposite, calm and collected through it all, reassuring and being a mentor to anyone who needed it on top of handling her own case load.

Rosé on the other hand had been a little on edge, as if she was the middle ground between the other managing partners, being neither frantic nor calm. She had been more restrained and quiet this week, retreating into her mind as she absorbed all the information she needed so she could plan out her courtroom strategies. Every time Denali had her morning meetings with her, or whenever she entered her office, it had been nothing but business, with almost no teasing from Rosé. At first, Denali had felt a little weirded out, then relieved at finally getting the peace and quiet she had always wanted. By the end of the week though, the blonde couldn’t help but miss their little interactions. She had actually gotten used to the banter that the two of them shared.

Burrowing her face into her arms, she pouted, thinking about how long she would have to wait for the rain to subside when she felt someone gently stroking the back of her head. Startled by the sudden touch, she looked up to find Rosé standing over her, a light frown on her face.

“Denali, what are you still doing here?”

Denali blinked, surprised that Rosé was still in the office. “Miss McCorkell! Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner with a client?” Rosé chuckled, settling herself at the edge of Denali’s desk. “Ever the diligent little secretary, aren’t you? It ended early, and I forgot something in the office. Also, you never answered my question, angel.”

And she was back with the nicknames again.

“I completed the weekly summary report not too long ago, so now I’m just waiting out the rain.”

“At this hour?”

Denali shrugged. “Catching an Uber now isn’t very economical.” Though she probably would have to give up at some point if the rain didn’t let up soon.

Rosé raised a brow. “And no plans on a Friday night? No hot date?” The younger girl couldn’t help letting out a snort before shaking her head in response. Who had time for dates when your job took up so much of your time? Rosé hummed, face carefully blank, then looked out the window at the rain. There were several beats of silence, causing Denali to squirm a little in her seat. She couldn’t tell what the other woman was thinking, and she couldn’t help but notice how close their hands were to each other, their pinkies almost touching. She quietly shifted her hands into her lap when her stomach let out a grumble, causing her to freeze and flush in embarrassment.

She probably should have eaten more than that panini for lunch.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have time for dinner again?” Denali’s brows shot up in surprise. She hadn’t expected Rosé to have noticed seeing as the older woman had been so busy herself. Rosé laughed at the expression on her face, lightly tugging at Denali’s ponytail in amusement.

“Don’t look so surprised! Of course I would have noticed that my secretary hasn’t been eating regularly for the past week.” Rosé slid off the desk and bent down to pick up both her bag and Denali’s. Smiling down at the blonde, she cocked her head towards the elevator.

“Come on baby, let’s get you some food, and then I’ll drive you home.”

Before she could even protest, Rosé had already started walking towards the lift lobby. Denali stared after the redhead, stunned for a moment before scrambling to follow her, trying to ignore how her heart was thumping just a tiny bit faster.

———

Rosé had practically herded the other girl into her car and, despite Denali’s initial protests, driven them both to a diner that was not too far from the office. There weren’t a lot of places that were still open at that hour, but The Goode Place was always open 24/7.

Careful to ensure that the both of them stayed dry, the older woman had parked her car as close to the entrance of the diner as possible and made Denali stay put while she walked over to her side with a large umbrella to shield them from the rain. Opening the door, Rosé had tugged Denali to her side, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and had hip checked the door shut with a click, making sure that it was locked. All the while, Denali had been trying to control the blood rushing to her cheeks and her racing heart, telling herself that Rosé was just trying to make sure that the both of them stayed dry, or at least as dry as possible.

When they’d entered the diner, Rosé had let go of Denali, and the blonde quickly took a step away while the older woman shook out the umbrella and set it with the other wet ones at the entrance. Denali looked around at the interior of the diner, a little in awe at how the place looked. She had always noticed it in passing, but had never thought to set foot in it before, and now she wish she had done so sooner.

The place looked bright and colourful with a mix of retro and modern touches. There were vintage looking posters on the walls featuring old school pin up girl illustrations, bright neon lights spelling out cliched words, signed framed vinyls, eccentric decorations like flowers and vines, and the odd set of crystals with bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. A juke box stood in the corner playing music from the 90’s, and the floors and walls were tiled in red, white, pink and blue colours.

Denali had been so enraptured by her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed how Rosé was staring at her with a small smile on her face. The older woman gently placed her hand on the small of Denali’s back and guided her to a nearby booth, and it was only then did Denali remember that she wasn’t alone, that she was there with her boss. After sitting in the booth, Rosé waved over a pretty girl with electric blue curls that was at the counter, whose face lit up in recognition and immediately bounced over with a pair of menus in hand.

“Hey there Rosé! I see you’ve brought some company this evening.” Rosé smiled back at the girl, leaning towards her and winking. “That I did, baby. Do I get a discount for bringing a new patron to this fine establishment?” The girl giggled, swatting Rosé in the arm with the menus. “Nice try, Miss Rich Bitch. Try again next time when you finally have a ring on your finger, and I’ll think about it.” Turning to Denali, the girl flashed a brilliant smile. “Nice to meet you girl, the name’s Crystal.” Denali smiled back, already taking a liking to her. “Nice to meet you! I’m Denali.”

Crystal’s brows shot up. “Denali? As in the pretty blonde secretary that Rosé is- OW!”

“Yes, she’s my secretary. And unless you want to lose the generous tip I usually give, I suggest you move on to what tonight’s specials are.”

Crystal pouted, rubbing the shin that Rosé had kicked into. “Alright, rude much.” She rattled off the specials for the night, took down their drink orders and left the two to decide what food to order. Denali opened up the menu, perusing it silently, trying not to think too much into how Crystal knew that she was Rosé’s secretary. Rosé tapped her finger on the table, already knowing what she wanted as Denali tried to decide what to eat. When Crystal came back with their drinks, they placed their food orders and then sat at the table in silence.

It felt a little awkward to Denali, being out in a public setting with her boss outside of their work hours, and having supper together at that. She wasn’t really sure how to act with the woman who signed her pay check every month combined with the fact that only up until recently, she had been harbouring nothing but frustration and a dislike towards. It was odd.

As if sensing the other girl’s inner thoughts, Rosé knocked their knees together. “What’s going on in that pretty blonde head of yours?”

Denali shrugged, playing with the straw of her drink. “It’s nothing.”

“Really? Nothing? Now why do I not believe you when you say that.”

Denali laughed under her breath, and chose to take a sip of her milkshake instead of replying her. Her eyes widened once the cold drink hit her tastebuds and she pulled away. “Oh my god, this is so good!” Rosé beamed. “Isn’t it? I discovered this place when I was still a paralegal a few years back. I haven’t been able find another place that makes as good a milkshake as this.”

Nodding in agreement, Denali happily drank more of her milkshake, oblivious to the fond smile Rosé gave her when the blonde finally relaxed.

It wasn’t too long until their food arrived, and they both ate in a more comfortable silence. In between bites, Rosé would ask Denali little questions, easy and non-intrusive ones, mindful of the fact that Denali still wasn’t entirely comfortable in her presence. It didn’t last too long though as Denali loosened up a little more, and was soon also contributing more to the conversation with her own questions. When both plates were empty and glasses drained, Rosé moved to pay for the bill, despite Denali trying to pay for her own food. Crystal had rolled her eyes at the two of them and had immediately taken Rosé’s card, ignoring Denali’s.

“Doll, if a rich woman offers to pay, just let her.” Denali pouted at Crystal and pocketed her card, ignoring the chuckles coming from Rosé. “She’s right, baby. Just listen to her.”

The blonde rolled her eyes at that, and the two of them departed, with Crystal blowing them a kiss goodbye. Thankfully, it had stopped raining and by the time they had reached Denali’s apartment, and it was a few minutes shy of midnight.

“Would you look at that? Looks like your chariot won’t turn into a pumpkin after all, Cinderella.”

Denali snorted at Rosé’s comment, biting her tongue when she instinctively wanted to make a remark, and instead smiled.

“Thank you for supper and bringing me home, I really appreciate it.”

Rosé brushed it off with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. You were working late because of me anyway, so it’s the least I could do.”

“Well, not a lot of bosses would think that way, so thank you again, Miss McCorkell.

Rosé pouted, leaning against the wheel of her car as she looked at Denali. “Oh come on Nali, after all these months together and me introducing you to New York’s finest milkshake, and you still won’t call me by my name?” Being tired from the long day and no longer as mindful of her own behaviour as she usually was, Denali couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh while unbuckling her seatbelt. She opened the door and paused for a moment, as if carefully contemplating something, before turning to look at Rosé, a playful glint in her eye.

“Good night, Rosé.”

Rosé’s mouth fell open when Denali said her name, but before the older woman could react, the blonde had shut the door and retreated to her apartment.

That night, Denali dreamed of milkshakes, jukeboxes and pink roses.

———

It was Monday morning when Denali knocked on the managing partner’s office door and let herself in, her trusty leather folio and Rosé’s usual cup of coffee in hand. She set the coffee down in its usual spot as Rosé carried on typing away at her keyboard.

“Good morning, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé stopped typing and looked up from her laptop, a pout on her lips.

“What happened to Rosé?”

Ignoring her question with an almost affectionate roll of her eyes, Denali extracted an envelope from her folio and slid it over the desk towards Rosé. “This invitation for you was just delivered this morning.” The managing partner took one look at it and recognised the emblem. “Ah, it’s the invite for that benefit Lagoona mentioned earlier.” Deftly opening it with her fingers, she pulled out the invitation card and scanned its contents while Denali sat down in the chair opposite her, opening her folio and clicking her pen.

“I’m assuming that you will need a plus one for the benefit. Would you like me to contact Miss Sin again?”

“No need. Did you manage to get a hot date for next Friday?”

Denali raised a brow, unsure of why Rosé was asking her that. “..no?”

“Good, then you can be mine at the benefit.”

Denali had to pause for a moment, unsure about whether she heard Rosé correctly. She couldn’t have just asked Denali to be her plus one, right?

“I’m sorry, Miss McCorkell, did you just ask me to be your plus one for the benefit?” Rosé chuckled as she closed the lid of her laptop and folded her hands, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Well, I wasn’t really asking, more like I was ordering you to be my plus one.”

Denali laughed under her breath. “Of course you were.”

“What was that?”

“I said that I can’t.”

Rosé frowned, not liking her answer. “And why not? You already said that you didn’t have a hot date, and I’m assuming no other plans either.”

Well if Denali had known that Rosé was going to ask her to be her plus one, she probably would have made one up on the spot. Knowing that she was waiting for an answer, Denali wracked her brain for a quick excuse.

“..I don’t have anything to wear.”

She was an idiot.

“That’s it?”

“Also, I don’t think that it’s very appropriate for me to be your plus one when I’m your secretary.”

Rosé waved off her concern. “It’ll be fine and besides, who cares?” Denali pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling an incoming headache. “Miss McCorkell, with all due respect, I do. And again, even if I didn’t, I don’t have anything appropriate to wear for the benefit.” The redhead frowned. Denali saw that Rosé was about to argue back and quickly cut her off.

“Now, on your schedule for today…”

Rosé frowned at being stopped, but kept quiet, hands clasped as she listened to Denali, though not as intently as she normally would.

Just because she was quiet , it didn’t mean that she had accepted Denali’s rejection.

———

Heels clicking on the asphalt, Denali walked along the sidewalk and towards the boutique she had been asked to go to pick up Rosé’s new custom suit for the benefit on Friday.

It had been funny and entertaining how the days leading up to the benefit, the older woman had been constantly and relentlessly pestering Denali about being her plus one. Every single morning Rosé would ask, and every single morning Denali would say no. Sometimes the blonde would go off for an errand or two, and come back to a post it stuck on her desk asking her, and each time she would sneak the post it back onto Rosé’s desk with no as the reply. There were even attempts to bribe her with boxes of donuts, cupcakes and macarons delivered to her table, and still she said no.

Kandy had been amused at the whole situation and had asked Denali if this was their weird version of foreplay, which had earned her a well placed eraser to the forehead.

Honestly, Denali wasn’t really sure why Rosé was so determined to bring her to the benefit as her plus one. If she had needed her secretary at her side at a professional capacity, Denali would have gone for sure, but from the sounds of it and the way Rosé was asking her, it didn’t feel like it. A small, insecure part of Denali felt a little scared that the redhead was just teasing her and leading her on, which was one of the main reasons why she kept rejecting her. Denali didn’t want to just end up being another conquest for Rosé.

Not that she was looking for anything more than a professional relationship anyways.

Pushing the glass door open and sighing in relief when she felt the cool air on her skin, Denali stopped in her tracks when she saw Rosé sitting on the settee in the middle of the boutique, eyes glued to her phone.

“Miss McCorkell? What are you doing here? I thought you had a personal appointment this afternoon.”

Rosé looked up from her phone and stood up, pocketing it. “I do.” Confused, Denali furrowed her brows. “Then why are you here? Did I make a mistake about picking up your suit for you?”

“Oh no, that’s correct. You’re here to pick up my suit for me, and I’m here too pick a dress for you.”

Denali stared at Rosé’s smug face, her mind slowly processing what other woman had just said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rosé chuckled at Denali’s expression just as a beautiful blonde woman emerged from another part of the boutique. “Rosé, the dresses that you selected are ready.” Clapping her hands, Rosé grinned at the French woman. “Excellent, thank you Nicky. Just like your name, you are an absolute doll.”

Pulling Denali over by the hand, she introduced her to the other blonde. “Nicky, this lady here is Denali, my plus one for the benefit.”

Shaken out of her stupor, Denali protested. “Wait a minute, I never agreed to be your plus one.” Rosé scoffed and looked down at Denali. “Well, the only reason you gave me for saying no was because you have nothing to wear. Now that we’re here, Nicky is going to help remedy that little problem, isn’t that right doll?” Rosé winked at Nicky. The French woman laughed, amused. “Indeed, come this way mes amours.”

Nicky led them to one of the adjoining rooms in the boutiques where there was a rack of dresses set up next to a curtained off fitting area. Rosé walked over to the rack and thumbed through the fabrics, pulling out a red dress.

“Let’s start with this one.”

What felt like hours later, Denali was tired out from trying on countless dresses, despite how hard she had tried to argue her way out of it. Both Nicky and Rosé had pointedly ignored her objections and kept pushing her back into the fitting room with a new dress to try on. With each dress she tried, Denali had noticed the price going higher and higher, with the number of digits and zeros increasing. She could probably sell one of the dresses off and have her rent taken care of for at least a year or two with the exorbitant price of each piece. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d be able to afford any of them, let alone for just one stupid night of dancing with rich snobs.

Finally, when it felt like she was about to reach her limit, Nicky had passed her a dress, assuring her that this was the one. Denali had sighed and taken it from her, drawing the curtains closed. Unzipping the blue one she had on and taking it off, she took the dress that Nicky had passed to her and finally looked at it. On the hanger, it looked like it would be a stunning floor length white strapless number, but would it be the case when it was on her?

Carefully unzipping it and taking it off the hanger, Denali stepped into it and slipped it on, frowning for a split second when she realised that she would have trouble zipping the dress up on her own. She tried to do it a number of times, but soon huffed in annoyance.

“Is anything the matter, mon cheri?”

“I’m just having some trouble zipping up. Do you think I could get some help?”

There were some quiet murmurs from outside, then the sound of the curtains opening and closing. Feeling fingers on her back, Denali brushed her hair to the side and held the dress to her chest as the the hands on her back pulled the zipper up, fingertips grazing the bare skin of her back as they did, causing her to shiver. Feeling the tug of the zip reaching the end, Denali stilled when she thought she felt lips ghost the back of her neck. Blinking in a daze, she turned around to find heated hazel eyes watching her.

Rosé was looking her over, eyes going down her body as she took in Denali’s form and how the dress looked on her before going back to her face, taking in how the blonde had a soft blush on her cheeks. Gently turning her to face the mirror, Rosé slowly tugged Denali’s hair loose from her high ponytail, letting her long blonde hair fall about her. Carefully arranging her hair to one side and tucking away an errant strand, Rosé smiled softly as they both looked at Denali’s reflection.

The dress was breathtaking on Denali, the white fabric contrasting beautifully against her tan skin. The sweetheart neckline showed off her collarbones, and the way the bodice of the dress hugged her body flattered her figure. There was a slit that stopped mid thigh that would flash her toned legs every time she took a step, further emphasised by the subtle pearl sheen. It was as if the dress was tailored just for Denali.

“Beautiful.”

Denali tore her gaze away from the reflection of the dress to Rosé’s face and felt her legs almost give way at the hungry look that was in her eyes. It looked as if the older woman wanted to swallow her whole with how close she stood to Denali, her fingers loosely curled around Denali’s wrists. She hadn’t even realised that Rosé had been touching her.

The blonde looked away after a while, not being able to stand being trapped in the heat of Rosé’s gaze any longer.

“Yes, the dress is indeed beautiful, Miss McCorkell.”

The fingers around her wrists tightened, and Denali felt a chin rest on her bare shoulder, causing her to gasp.

“I meant you, Denali. You’re beautiful.”

The air between them felt electric, and Denali was afraid to make a move, unsure about whether she wanted to break this bubble, this moment between them. As if reading her mind, Rosé’s eyes met hers in the mirror before she stepped away. Taking her by the hand, she led Denali out of the fitting room and back to the larger one. Nicky was nowhere to be seen and in her place was a small table with an assortment of jewellery laid out. Humming, Rosé examined the precious stones laid out before them, all the while rubbing slow circles onto the back of Denali’s hand, and selected a thin gold necklace with an intricate floral pendant of twisting vines and small inlaid gems. Turning the younger woman around, she fastened the necklace around Denali’s neck, all the while Rosé’s fingers were purposely grazing her skin.

Turning Denali back around to face her, Rosé smiled, a finger gently tracing the curve of Denali’s cheek.

“Perfect.”

———

I've lightly sprinkled in hints of sugar mommy Rosé in there. Very minor though because let's be honest, do you think Denali would be able to just sit still and look pretty? Yeah, no.

I might have ideas of setting up a verse of sorts to have little side stories which might even feature Crystal and Gigi because I think it'd be so cute and fluffy to have little Crygi moments of them running the diner together, but who knows.

[serifsans]

Vladimir’s gone again. Family business. He wouldn’t elaborate more and Jean-Paul’s learned that it’s best not to prod him about it too much because he’s never going to get any further details and he just has to live with that. For someone who isn’t actually involved in the family business, Vlad’s way too wrapped up in it, but whatever, whatever, it’s not like they didn’t know what they were getting into when they got involved with him.

In the safety of their locked office, the curtains shut tight because JP doesn’t let anyone see him in disarray except Vlad and only grudgingly, they loosen their tie and mix themself a gin and tonic; they’ve been told before that they drink like an old lady but they are an old lady, so it’s fine. The shop’s closed for the day, the customers gone, the employees dispersed. She's supposed to design some wedding invitations but there are still plenty of hours in the night and they aren’t going anywhere. It’s always designing invitations for someone else’s wedding. It’s never her wedding.

The week or so in Vegas was nice and now it’s back to how it usually is: hiding and skulking around and always preoccupied with something else that demands either of the two’s attention. It doesn’t have to be like that. It is anyway. At least the gin’s good.

JP hates to be anything less than efficient (and maybe that’s why they like to slip into their PJ form so much because it offers up an escape from the rules they’ve built up for themself) so they decide to check their email because that’s an important task important, responsible business owners do and also something you can easily do when your end goal is to get comfortably tipsy.

Their order for an entire set of dinnerware from the 1970s finally shipped. This is a responsible, mature purchase and not something they did completely on a whim because it reminded them of a dead ex-boyfriend’s forks. Boyfriend? Benefactor, maybe. The man died and left JP a small fortune they quickly burned through and some real estate that turned out to be great investments (he’s sitting in some of that real estate right now) so they’ll call him whatever they like. It’s good dinnerware, very fun, and now it’s retro, which makes it better.

Cathy sent him an email requesting time off for her upcoming wedding anniversary, so of course they approve it and jot it down on the calendar because they’re not a monster like some old bosses they’ve had. They’re trying to run this business as ethically and worker friendly as possible over here. They’ll make her a nice card with plenty of flourishes and set aside one of the pride candles they keep in stock. The butch-themed one smells like wood smoke and juniper with just a hint of spice around the edges.

Their penpal sent them several paragraphs detailing his latest trip to Utah, links to several pie recipes, and a picture of the moon. JP sends Ned a highly sanitized account of their time in Vegas, a meme they found on Pinterest, and a link to an article about sustainable farming that they found interesting. Nice fellow. Terribly boring but nice.

The person who keeps sending him rambling emails asking if they can put up posters outside his shop is at it again. JP blocks them and deletes the email but they’re just going to create a new email account in a few weeks, so it’s a losing battle. They highly suspect it’s the same person who keeps leaving weird stickers in his alley but they also don’t care enough to investigate every weirdo they happen upon.

Spam that the email filter didn’t catch. Someone asking about commission prices even though they’re clearly stated on their website. Something about utility bills that he’ll deal with later. Something about his newly created Reddit account, which is a website he’s never looking at again. Someone’s inviting them to yet another baby shower. They’re so tired of baby showers. They’d probably like it if they had a baby but that’s not something they’re capable of and he feels like the regs wouldn’t let them adopt even though there are plenty of children that need homes and clearly there aren’t enough humans adopting them. Vladimir’s already a grandfather, so he’s not too keen on raising another child at his age anyway.

And speaking of Vlad, he sent him several paragraphs of extremely mushy sentiments (people see his scars and his tattoos and assume he’s a tough guy, one cold son of a bitch, and he is but he’s also a complete sap) and some interesting pictures. JP puts the drink aside and replies at once. He’s vaguely irritated with him right now for reasons that aren’t actually his fault and which don’t really have to do with him (except he’s vague and uncommunicative and that does irritate the hell out of them sometimes, even if overall he adores the man) but it’ll pass.

JP works on commissions throughout the night. When morning comes, they change clothes and carry on to their employees like they don’t basically live in their office.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 1

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

genre: angst, thriller, romance

pairing: han jisung ( stray kids) x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mild language, mature themes + violence

description: when your best friend Felix sets you up on a blind date with adorable medical student Han Jisung, you find yourself falling for his sweet words and dark eyes, and the even darker secrets he hides behind his charming, angelic smile.

watch the trailer here!

1 | blind date

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, but today it was nearly deserted: just you, two students studying in a booth across the room, and an old man reading what seemed to be a newspaper upside-down in the corner. A lone waitress was stacking clean milkshake glasses behind the counter.

It was raining hard outside, the drops sounding like impatient fingers tapping at the window beside you. As you peered through the glass, you caught a glimpse of a boy on a rusty bike, waiting to cross the street. Yang Jeongin, you recognized -- the delivery boy. A silver Walkman was tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, his lips mouthing the words to a song, a halo of dripping blonde hair sticking out from underneath his hood. He was smiling, despite the fact that it was pouring buckets, and he’d likely been up doing deliveries since 6 in the morning. Yang Jeongin was always smiling.

The light flashed red, traffic halted, and the delivery boy sped away. 

Turning your attention back to the empty seat in front of you, you sighed.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

Your mind was running over all the ways you were going to give Felix hell when you saw him in class tomorrow; how you were going to explain to him that you’d been stood up on the blind date he’d arranged for you. 

“You know what they call me? The Matchmaker of Miroh Heights. Has a nice ring to it, huh?”

You’d groaned as your best friend wiggled his eyebrows. Felix loved playing wingman. As the school photographer and a talented journalism major, he was the one who came up with the “Cutest Couples” section in the campus newspaper -- photoshoots and candid shots of pairings, most of which he’d set up. Still, you’d never thought that his...work...would extend to you.

It had been a while since you’d entertained the notion of love. You’d had your fair share of unrequited crushes and relationships that had not-so-pleasant endings, so the moment you’d enrolled into college and the workload had swept up your entire schedule, you’d left love on the backburner. You kept telling yourself that the right person would come at the right time -- but Felix seemed to have other ideas.

“Let’s see...Hyojong? Ah, no, I forgot -- he’s taken by that pretty senior. Lucky bastard.” He huffed. “Or...Seungcheol? Nah, doesn’t seem your type. Ah!” He snapped his fingers, making you jump. “I know!”

“Felix, for the last damn time -- I don’t need a boyfriend right now.”

“Just one date? Please?” The blond boy hung up the last photo, a mischievous glint in his eyes visible even in the dark room. “I know a great guy -- health sciences major and everything. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I’m a psychology major, ‘Lix. I don’t know -- you know I’m no good at blind dates--” you caught sight of his puppy-dog expression, and sighed in defeat. “Fine! Fine. What’s his name, then?”

The school journalist flashed an impish grin. “Han Jisung.”

Han Jisung.

He was the reason why you were here, sat in a near-empty diner on a rainy Sunday afternoon, waiting for a date to show up while a pile of psychology coursework waited for you back at home. 

Maybe he couldn’t make it, you told yourself -- it was pouring buckets outside. Maybe it was better to swallow your hopes and head back. Biting your lip, you pulled out your phone, tapping on Jisung’s contact (courtesy of Felix) and typing. 

New Message

Hey, I’m y/n! I’m really sorry, but I had to leave.

Your finger hovered over the Send button, hesitating. What if he was on his way? Or got caught in traffic? Still, it had been over thirty minutes…

You were so caught up in your dilemma that you barely registered the sound of the diner door swinging open, and the sound of wet footsteps squeaking until they stopped at your booth.

“Hello!”

You nearly threw your phone into the face of the boy who had spoken, his hand shooting out to catch it before it fell to the floor. Drenched from head to toe from the rain -- cheeks flushed and breathing hard as if he’d been running, dark hair falling in his wide eyes, lips spread in a breathless smile -- was your date. 

His other hand was hidden behind his back as he handed your phone back to you, cool fingers grazing yours as your eyes met. 

Well, shit.

He was absolutely, devastatingly, adorable.

“O-oh, hi!” You stammered. “You’re…”

“Jisung,” he finished for you. “Han Jisung.” He glanced at the empty seat in front of you. “May I…”

“Yeah, of course!” Your heart rate was steadily increasing, and you wanted to slap yourself. It’s just a blind date, y/n, stop getting your hopes up--

Your gaze fell on the hand he was still hiding behind his back as he slid into the booth. Noticing your stare, Jisung slowly and sheepishly pulled out a small bouquet of roses.They were an unusual colour -- a faint, peachy pink rather than the conventional ruby red. 

They were also falling apart, clusters of wrinkled petals dripping and blown askew from the wind and rain, no doubt. 

“They’re for you. I mean, I completely understand if you don’t want them, it’s just--I passed a florist’s on the way here, but it started raining, and--”

“I love them,” you blurted, and, seeing Jisung raise an eyebrow, you giggled. “I really do.” 

You gingerly took the misshapen bouquet from his hands, bringing the flowers to your face and breathing in softly. They smelled pleasantly of petrichor, and something else faint yet sweet.

Jisung watched you, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re -- really pretty.”

You felt the blood rush to your face, your tongue tying into knots and betraying you oncemore. “O-oh,” you squeaked, “th-thank you?”

He chuckled as the waitress came to take your orders for drinks and food.

As she left, Jisung’s gaze wandered around the vintage movie posters, records, and other retro paraphernalia that decorated the diner’s interior. “This place is something else.” 

“Right? Every time I come here, I think I’ve stepped into a movie. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Dirty Dancing--” you blushed. “Sorry. I probably sound like a nerd.” 

Jisung turned back to you. “Don’t apologize. What’s your favourite kind of movie? Rom-coms?”

“Psychological thrillers, actually,” you admitted shyly. Good gosh, that intense stare in Han Jisung’s eyes was making your heart do somersaults in your chest. “But romcoms are not far behind.”

He hummed in approval, an odd glint in his eyes. “So you’re into psychology?”

“Well, I’m majoring in psychology, so I kind of have to be -- although it’s been pretty hard on me as of late.” You sighed, suddenly remembering the mountain of final assignments weighing on your shoulders.

Jisung leaned in closer, resting his chin on his hands. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just--my final project.They’re testing our ability to communicate with and analyze a patient,” you explained. “Kind of like a therapist simulation. We’re supposed to find someone and, like, apply psychological concepts by giving them mock counselling over the course of a few months. And by the end of it, we have to write a conclusive report on their mental state. I can’t find anyone who’s willing to be my patient, which honestly makes sense -- it’s such an invasive topic.”

Jisung was silent for a long moment, dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he sat up a little straighter, cocking his head to the side. “I could be your patient.”

You blinked, mouth falling open. “Wha--are you sure? I mean, you really don’t have to--and it might take up a lot of your time--”

“I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you,” he replied, eyes glinting, and your heart skipped a beat. 

“R-really?” You could already feel an incredulous, relieved smile spreading on your blushing face.

Jisung chuckled. “Just to see you smile like that, trust me -- I’d do anything.”

You were infinitely grateful that at that moment, the waitress arrived with your food. You weren’t sure your face could get any redder. You knew you were a hopeless romantic at heart, and had told yourself time and time again not to be swayed by sweet talk, but this was...different. There was something genuinely sweet in Jisung’s words -- he said them so honestly, with an almost childlike simplicity. 

You sipped your drink in a feeble attempt to regain composure. “My turn to ask the questions. What’s your favourite food?”

“Cheesecake,” Jisung replied instinctively. You watched him bite into his burger and giggled at the way his round eyes widened even more before he practically inhaled the rest.

“Favourite season?”

“Winter.”

“Least favourite colour?”

Jisung froze, a weighted silence falling over the table. He swallowed, hard, before replying quietly, “Red.”

When you peered at his face, you felt an icy chill trickle down your spine. His warm brown eyes had darkened and grown impossibly wide, and the colour had drained from his cheeks. Had you said something wrong? You looked down at your clothes -- a soft, oversized beige cardigan and light blue jeans.

“W-well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing red, then, huh?”

“No.” Jisung shook his head slowly, and his shaky gaze met yours. You felt your mouth go dry at how lost his eyes seemed -- bottomless pools of pitch black. “No, I’m sure you would still look pretty in red.”

As if on cue, your cheeks turned a bright cherry hue.

Deciding to change the topic, you cleared your throat. “What about dogs? Do you like dogs?”

Almost as quickly as it had come, the dark look vanished from his face. “I love dogs!”

By the time the waitress brought the bill, Jisung had you in stitches over a joke he’d made, and you’d long forgotten about the whole ordeal.

The rain had stopped when you two stepped outside. Behind the knitted clouds, the sun was setting, its rays of light seeping through the stormy sky like veins in marble. Jisung’s features were painted a soft gold, warm eyes sparkling as he turned around to face you. His hair was a strange colour, you noted -- under the dim lights of the diner, it had appeared a light brown, but now that you were in the sunlight, it looked more blond. It had also been dripping wet, soaked from sweat or rain or both after running all the way to you, but it had dried off now, the ends curling in his eyes.

Maybe you’d had one dose of sugar too many in your drink, because you suddenly found yourself wanting to touch it. So you did just that, fingers reaching for the soft, fluffy golden locks and ruffling them playfully. Jisung’s eyes held yours the entire time, his gaze questioning. 

You huffed. “You’re cute, okay?”

He broke into a smile that made your heart flutter. “Okay.” 

Cheeks blazing at your own sudden boldness, you quickly pulled your hand away, fingers lightly grazing the side of his cheek before you stepped back. “I--I’m gonna get going now. Thanks for a great time!”

“Of course. See you next time?” Jisung winked, handing you the bouquet of peach roses.

“S-see you!” With that, you turned and practically ran across the street, heart still threatening to leap out of your chest as you fought the butterflies in your stomach and the smile sneaking onto your face.

Behind you, Jisung’s face darkened, smile slipping from his lips as you disappeared from his sight.

[tetsuwan-atom]

To a New Awakening...?

A TMoHS/Disappearance Drabble. PART 3 OF ???

< | >

—————————- 

...The drapes open on their own...

Oh wait no they don't. There's someone else in his room doing it for him.

"Bowen, sweetie! Up and at 'em, baby!"

One could not forget the easily recogniseable voice and mannerisms of Bowen's mother, rousing the young male out of his bed gently. "Mmmn..." Eyes would open to his nice, spacious bedroom. Oh that's right! His room has always been this nice, his parents did go and buy a lovely house in Nishinomiya didn't they? Two story, plenty of room for, well, everything! So much bright light too. Slowly with a groan would Bowen sit up from bed to turn to his mother so.

"Morning.. Mom.."

The banter sort of became stale by this point, awakening again and again five days per week for the dredge that was, well, school. Thankfully this is his last year, though if he doesn't do as well as he should he might not get a good setup to university. What a slog, really, why put people through this? With a sigh he waddled down the stairs, with his mother, breakfast was at hand, as was his father.

He had been living in Japan since he was little. His parents moved here as part of an expatriation program. Nishinomiya is dotted with a few from Australia, doing a few different things.

At the breakfast table, conversing with his parents, as he ate. Cereal today. It was always a mix of different things for different days. A railway poster on the wall catches his attention. He knows this is how it has always been.

...But he can't help but think something's wrong...

It's strange, there was a thought, that he shouldn't be living in a house. He should be in some sort of apartment block on his own. That his parents were far, far away, not because he didn't like them or anything, he loved his parents, but this was something he was thinking, like something that...

"Bowen, you okay? You seem distant.."

Spoke his father, who had noticed the blonde's stare earlier. It was enough to snap the young man out of it, turning to both his mother and father before shaking his head. "Ah.. yeah, sorry, I'm fine!" He brought out a smile that tried to add to such a feeling. "It's all good here."

"That's good." His mother then commented. "If there's anything on your mind, you know you can tell us, okay?"

"Of course!"

Probably something to think about later, he's got school coming up. Can't miss that... even though he rather, well, would..

~~~~~~~

North High was a good school. Not as good as some but it was good enough for him. Also a nice fancy uniform, he liked that. Class 3-9. He didn't really have much friends at this school, sometimes he even got admirers, though he never knew who they were. Not a week goes by without coming to your desk and seeing a few boxes of chocolates. Still, it was otherwise pretty normal, pretty boring.

And so the day would continue on as per normal, until the end would signal him to head on out. As he exited his classroom however, there was a pause. A slight compelling feeling to stand out and look over by the window over the school grounds, see the people all making their way home. Well it was a nice sight. He did like the way his school looked. Old, retro, for the most part, not as old as the Clubhouse situation by it but still. It was ni-

‘THERE YOU ARE!’

Instantly, instantly did he turn to the sound of a female voice right down the hall.

Only... there was nobody there.

Nobody in his direction facing him anyway. But.. he heard it so distinctly... clearly.. But did he.. dream it?

'You got a lot of nerve making me find you' A tilt of his head. There's nobody there. And now he's thinking of something that's right before him? This is so strange.

"What.. do.. you mean?"

He speaks, quietly, as if reciting something. What is this? Something's starting to picture in his head. Marching footsteps like lightning, a mischievous grin.

'And you're already late.'

Hazel eyes, brown hair, yellow.. ribbon?

"Late?" Again he replies, quietly. "Late.. for.. what?" As he spoke, in that reply to the blank space before him, he didn't notice his eyes were beginning to glow blue, a bright blue, if only for a second or two.

-crack-

..But that seemed to be enough to do something..

Abruptly he turned back to the window. He could have sworn it was an intact window but now...

...The glass is cracked?

A quick step back. That was not there before. He was just looking out of that! Another few steps back. Was this.. connected? The strange thoughts, this?

What?

Now he was feeling a bit scared. He can't stay here. Quickly did he grab his back and bolt down the hallway, down the stairs, out the door. All with thoughts racing in his mind. This was not normal, what was that moment?

Who was that girl meant to be?

~~~~~~~ 

After school, Bowen headed straight to Kitaguchi Station. Why? He has a part time job there as a Station Assistant. It was a good way of making money, though he could only attend as long as there wasn't much homework if at all to complete. Today was a good day though, he can stay a bit longer and earn some extra money. It's not every day of the week, but it's today at least.

Most of his proper friends work there, many of them also expats from Australia, particularly one Leland Brighto. His best friend really. Can be a bit overboard but that was few and far between. The blonde had a habit of showing up early, grabbing a bit of food, maybe head on over to the vending machine there. Iced coffee was a popular drink here and man did he enjoy it a lot. At the vending machine he was, about to insert a few Yen coins, to bring forth his much needed 'ener-

'I'm gonna start a new club, gonna bring all the drivers over and have a real good time'

...That's Leland's voice, but he doesn't recall that conversation, whatsoever.

But..

"What... sort of.. club?" Bowen speaks again, slowly, though still sane enough to push the right numbers for an iced latte.

'Social club! What else do you think! It's gonna be every Friday Evening, you don't have to attend I know you got your kids club stuff and all, you told me that schoolgirl gets very cranky if you don't rock up'

Kids club? Schoolgirl? This conversation doesn't ring a bell at all!

"What are.. you going to call it?" He reaches down to take the drink from the bottom dispenser... just as his eyes are glowing blue again.

'Mmm, how about the Friday Night Club!'

-CRACK-

An immediate jolt, grabbing the drink out taking a few steps back to see that the entire glass pane of the vending machine had cracked from top to bottom! You could press on it and the whole thing would collapse! Not to mention.. it looks like it's not even on anymore.. it's completely... dead.

"Bowen... what happened man?"

Now that was the actual voice of Leland, he didn't imagine that, clutching his drink as he swung around instantly, eyes back to normal, to see the familiar black clad Stationmaster.

...But why can he picture him in something more... an olive green colour.

"L...Leland.." He spoke, trembling just a bit, clearly in some sort of shock. "Do you... remember forming.. some sort of.. social club.. on Fridays?"

"...Social club?" The taller man tilted his head in confusion. "Why would we do that? We go out on the weekends y'know." He then tilted his head the other way. "..Do you want to form a social club?"

"...Ah... no.. no it's okay, just.. um.. a thought." He began to walk towards and past Leland, shaking his drink, though not as violently as he normally did.

"You doing okay Bow? You seem a bit pale."

"I'm fine! I'm fine.. the vending machine just.. decided to frighten me." An excuse, the man probably won't understand these weird thoughts, might call Bowen crazy. He can figure all this out when he gets home anyway. Just get changed, get to work, earn some good bucks. His model railway layout needs the expense.

~~~~~~~

It’s dark now. Bowen got sent home an hour early. Leland could see he wasn’t doing too good and that there was stuff on his mind. Unfortunately the blonde had another day of school to go to after this, he wasn’t going to call in sick, he knew he needed to attend.

It still gave him time to try and think. Why were things starting to break around him? Glass, electricity.. why was he getting strange thoughts? It was like they were memories, but, they didn’t.. they didn’t happen at all! Why can he picture Leland clearly in a different uniform. Why was this school girl in his head? Brown hair, yellow ribbon, so excitable with a grin. Was she the same girl Leland was mentioning, the cranky one? Was that plausible?

And this ‘kids club’. What was that? Bowen wasn’t a member of any club! Despite the idea that he could choose to be.. it never entered his head. And yet it was.. connected with that schoolgirl?

This is weird, very, very weird, unsettling. There has to be a reason why he’s getting these thoughts, and why things might be breaking like that. The way it all happened it seemed, they were connected with one another.

But then why... why was this all happening?

Why him?

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

10 and 13 please please please 😌

@poppy27 and all who requested 10 and 12 here they are! I combined them since they are related. And a bonus slightly creepy but sweet Simon one.

and yes I’m still working on #13. That’s been the most challenging one so far!

10: What sorts of things would they give each other “just because”?

12: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

1.

Baz

One of the particulars I noticed about Snow, that first night in our room, after the Crucible had encumbered me with him (burdened me with his mole-dotted skin, ordinary blue eyes, bronze dusted hair) was how few possessions he had brought to Watford with him.

Worn trainers on his feet. A scant number of ratty t-shirts. A few threadbare trackie bottoms. That fucking red ball.

That was it. Not another bloody thing.

It’s not like I brought much with me. Uniforms, text books, notepads, writing utensils—all were provided to us.

I’d packed some clothes. Pajamas, of course. A few favorite books. A tiny, contraband iPod Fiona had lent me the summer before (discreetly hidden in the depths of my closet, thanks to the Mage’s ludicrous ban on electronics.)

Over the years more items traveled to Watford with me. More books, naturally. Some family photographs (Mordelia was an exceptionally ugly baby) (She’s marginally better now) (it would be devilish hard to look any worse.)

By fifth year there were posters, meticulously confined to my side of the room. Some abysmal drawing Mordelia had made for me that I kept spelled to the wall. A whole shelf of books.

And Fiona’s old lava lamp, for the sheer ridiculousness of it (it was mesmerizing) (and retro) (and I liked to spell it different colours.)

Snow never added anything. Other than larger sizes of the items he’d brought with him initially. And a winter coat. A few nice jumpers, after he started spending Christmases with the Wellbeloves.

No personal effects. No books. No photographs.

At least he got rid of that fucking ball.

It took me years to understand. To realize he went into care every summer, wasn’t with the Mage as I thought. To recognize that he couldn’t afford or even really risk owning anything of value.

It was much the same when I helped him move into the flat with Bunce earlier this year (I did help, no matter what Snow says) (I supervised) (Someone had to.)

Most of their furnishings were tatty cast offs from Bunce’s family home.  Some mystical wall art that she had found in Camden. A mismatched selection of mugs and tableware. Typical uni apartment.

But Snow’s bedroom was so sparse. Just like his side of the room had been at Watford. A bed. A desk. A lamp on a rickety nightstand. A dresser with virtually empty drawers.

Blank walls.

It’s not like that now, no thanks to Snow.

It’s not like he doesn’t have money. Bunce finally convinced him to do something with that sack of leprechaun gold. I took him to a Normal bank, helped him open an account and the bank helpfully converted the gold to legal tender.

It’s a tidy sum. Enough for him to indulge himself a bit.

He doesn’t.

So, I do.

It started before he moved to London. Those weekends second term, when I would visit him at the Bunces.

When he was all long silences and thousand-yard stares.

I held his hand and tried to distract him. Dinner dates. Film nights. Clothes shopping.

I bloody adore taking Simon clothes shopping. He has no idea how fucking attractive he is. Buying him fitted shirts and tailored jeans is as much a gift to myself as it is to him.

I can’t help it.

I think of him when he’s not with me.

I’ll walk by a shop and see a shirt that reminds me of the color of his eyes.

Strolling through a bookshop I’ll find a title I actually think he might like.

A peculiar trinket will catch my eye at a street market and I know he’ll be captivated by it.

I buy them all for him.

Even my old lava lamp has taken up residence on his dresser.

Bunce says Simon’s room looks like a tatty shop stall from Spitalfields Market. It looks nothing of the sort. She’s prone to slanderous hyperbole.

What it looks like is home.

2.

Simon

I’m not sure what I love best about living in London. Rooming with Penny. Getting to see Baz every day (and most nights) (almost like when we were roommates) (but better.) Going to uni. Exploring the city. All the food.

The variety of food is astonishing. There’s posh restaurants and so many curry take-out shops. Neighbourhood pubs. All the street markets.

I don’t know if I like Borough Market or Camden Market best. Or Maltby Street. Or Brockley.

I love them all.

I’m only taking two classes per term this year. My therapist thought that would be plenty, with all that I’m trying to sort through right now. Uni’s been very understanding and accommodating about it all. My therapist sent a letter and spoke with the dean.

Professor Bunce mentioned Metropolitan first, when I was still living with them. Said she knew they had some pathway that wasn’t full-time to start.

But I think Baz’s father had something to do with it too. Baz had dragged me along, to their family lodge near Oxford, for a weekend visit soon after he’d left Watford.

I hadn’t really seen the Grimms much since I’d run away from them, the night the Humdrum had attacked Baz. The night I’d extinguished all the magic for miles around their home.

Well, I’d seen Mr. Grimm, at the Coven meetings investigating the death of the Mage. He’d not said much to me, just gripped my shoulder a few times and said “Simon” and nodded at me.

It wasn’t much. But it helped. Helped to know he didn’t hate me for the hole in Hampshire. For driving them all out of their home. For being with his son.

It was just a quiet encouragement, something I’d never expected from him.

But when Baz took me to Oxford with him, to tell his father he would rather be staked than go to uni there, to tell his father he was moving to London with me, I was anxious.

I was going bloody mental.

So of course, being me, I started babbling on at dinner about moving to London, living with Penny, our fourth floor flat, what my therapist had said about uni. Just nattering on, face turning red, hands shaking but unable to stop the fumbling words coming out of my mouth.

Baz, the prat, just looked at me with one eyebrow raised and a half-smile. Bloody twat. He could have cut in and stopped me any time.

Mr. Grimm looked a little glassy-eyed and Daphne had a fixed smile on her face. I finally took a large swig from my water glass and stopped talking.

“That’s … that’s very interesting to hear, Simon.” Mr. Grimm’s face was impassive. “Have you thought about where you might like to study?”

“London’s got so many options,” Daphne added helpfully.

“Uh, Professor Bunce mentioned Metropolitan. Said it’s got some flexibility, with part-time programs and such.” My face was flaming. Baz’s hand slipped into mine and I could breathe a little easier.

“I’m familiar with it. Sebastian is there, Baz. You remember him?”

And then they’d moved the conversation on and I’d slumped back in my chair and taken another helping of pudding.

But a few weeks after I applied to Metropolitan I received a letter from a Mr. Sebastian Palmer-Lloyd, informing me that I was approved for a part-time pathway and providing information on a scholarship he felt I was qualified for, if I filled out the appropriate paperwork.

I think Mr. Grimm arranged it all.

I haven’t dared ask him or attempted to thank him directly.

Baz said not to worry about it, when I asked him what to do. Said his father wouldn’t want me to mention it. He had an odd expression, when I told him about the letter. A distant, fond look.

I don’t think it was for me, though. I think he was thinking of his father.

So that’s how I ended up at London Metropolitan. With only two classes per term. I got that scholarship. I’ve got tutors and a foundation year advisor who stays in touch with my therapist and is surprisingly helpful to me.

Which means I’ve got a fair bit more free time than Baz and Penny.

Which is why I’m wandering through the market on this blustery Thursday. I’ve had a kebab and an ice cream so far. There’s a stand with baked goods that look wonderfully appetizing. Might take some home for later.

I’m strolling along, eyes darting from the food stalls to the art displays when I see the table across the way. The wind’s picked up and my ears are getting a bit cold. It’s not even the end of October. It’s shouldn’t be this blustery yet.

The table is covered with woolen hats and mittens and scarves. Bright colors, soft jewel tones, dark greys and browns. They’re soft and thick and look so very warm.

I don’t wear gloves much. Or hats. Get too hot still, even without the magic. I’m like a personal space heater, Baz says.

Baz gets cold. He’ll whinge about it tonight, how the temperature’s dropped today. But he still doesn’t do a bloody thing about it. Still wears his posh tailored wool coats, his thin leather gloves. He wears scarves but only because he thinks they make him look mysterious and aristocratic. He looks bloody gorgeous in them but I’ll not tell him that.

I will. I have. I can’t help myself.

Baz won’t wear a hat. He wore the boater at Watford because it was required (he loathed it) but once we didn’t have to wear them anymore he wouldn’t wear any type at all. Not even in the frigid depths of winter. Thinks they make his hair look bad, the tosser.

He’ll wear gloves but the ones he has now are useless. Thin leather ones, no good at keeping his fingers warm at all.  I should know. I hold his hand constantly.

I thought he had lined ones, when we were at Watford. I’m sure of it. I remember seeing him putting them on before he’d go to his violin practice. Cashmere lined, I’m sure.

They must be at his place. I’ll have to see if I can dig them up when I’m over there next. It’s only going to get colder.

I run my finger over a pair of mittens. They’re so many—simple knit ones, ones with a flap you can flip over to free up your fingers, ones made from cozy old jumpers and lined with fleece.

Mittens would surely keep Baz’s hands warm.

I find a simple charcoal grey pair with a thick, warm lining. They’re trim and neat, subdued and sedate.

He’ll still find something to complain about but at least his hands will be warm while he does.

3. Bonus Simon slightly creepy ficlet

Simon

Taking only two classes means I’ve a lot more free time than Baz and Penny.

I don’t have class today but I’m up early, as always.

Baz spent the night at his place. Had a paper due today so he didn’t make it over. Probably for the best. He doesn’t have class ‘til noon today. We usually just stay in bed all morning when he sleeps over on Wednesday nights.

But I’ve got plans for the day and an early start is what I need.

London is the best place I’ve lived, other than Watford. There’s so much to do, to see, to explore.

It’s not great for hunting though. At least not for the kind of hunting Baz does. The non-human hunting.

London’s probably more like an all-you-can-eat buffet for the regular vampire types.

But Baz isn’t a regular vampire. He argues with me about it but he’s more human than vampire. Always has been. All that rubbish about being half-dead. It’s all rot.

He’s basically a human with a taste for blood.

But it’s a bit sparse here in the city for him. There’re rats, yeah, but not as concentrated in one place, like they were at Watford.

Places where they do congregate aren’t places I want Baz going to alone. I know he’s got super strength and super speed and whatnot but I still don’t fancy him lurking in Hackney in the middle of the night.

London’s not even in the top twenty rat-infested areas of Britain (yes, I looked it up) (Research.) There are some right big ones in Hackney but it doesn’t even make the list.

There’s a fair amount of birds but they’re a bit dodgy to catch and Baz isn’t too fond of them. There’s deer in Richmond and Greenwich but it’s not that easy to drop a deer in the middle of London, even at night. There’re people around all the time.

You can find badgers in some of the parks but Baz says they’re an endangered species so they’re off limits. That’s taking it a bit far if you ask me. What’s one badger, here and there?

Baz draws the line at bats too. I tease him about that. He’s just too fastidious. Drives me mental. He’s got to feed somehow.

Odd thing is he’s not needing to feed near as often. He used to feed almost every night, he would, at Watford. But since last term he can go two days or sometimes even three and not be worse for the wear. I’m not complaining, mind you, but it’s odd.

Maybe the whole Numpty incident reset his vampiric metabolism? I don’t know. I’m no expert on vampires.

Probably more of an expert than most. On one particular vampire.

So anyway, feedings have been a bit chancy for Baz now that he’s in the city. He’s made do with rats and pigeons, the occasional deer if he can manage it.

He lets me go with him, mostly, now. At least when he hunts for deer. I’m good at lookout, making sure no one’s about, distracting people if I need. Gives him a few moments undisturbed it does.

Even with his altered metabolism it’s still not ideal. He needs a more consistent supply. He’s got a heavy class load. He can’t be out all night trying to feed.

Tried dried blood. I found it on Amazon, of all places. It’s mainly for making blood pudding. Thought it would work all right.

Baz hates it. Made him gag, it did. Says it smells funny and has a chemical aftertaste. Probably all the preservatives. Used it in emergencies a few times, like when it snowed for three days straight in February.

I found some in an Asian market. In the freezer section. I swear to Merlin I had no idea you could get frozen blood in a grocery store.

I’d actually found the place on some Reddit forum on blood pudding. I keep having to clear my browser history. Don’t know what my classmates would think if they saw the searches for blood products on my laptop. Think I’m mental or part of some cult, I’m sure.

The frozen blood wasn’t much good either. Something about the freezing process and coagulation and whatnot. Baz and Penny went on and on about it. I couldn’t follow it all. Just crossed frozen blood off the list of options.

This one Asian market in Catford had fresh blood. Thank you, Reddit. I got a tub of it and brought it home on the tube. Lid must have loosened up at some point. Ended up with the front of my shirt all soaked in it. Looked a nightmare I did.

Walked into the flat and Penny took one look at me and started shrieking about Goblins.

I haven’t seen Baz look that frightened since … since the whole Weeping Tower incident.

He looked terrified. Face shades paler than usual, nostrils flaring, pupils blown, eyes wide and fixed on the bloodstain on my shirt. His fangs popped (I can tell) (His cheeks puff up.)

And then he was right there, running his hands over me, searching for a wound or injury or some such. Got blood all over his hands, patting me down like that.

It took some time for everyone to settle. I hadn’t realized what I looked like, big blood stain in the middle of my chest and splatters of blood on my hands where I’d snapped the lid back on.

Thought I’d been attacked, is what they thought. The Goblins still think I’m fair game so I suppose Penny and Baz had a point.

I put the tub of blood in the refrigerator and went to take a shower. I think Baz burned my shirt. I don’t know why they didn’t “out, out damn spot”it. That should get blood out.

I kind of liked that shirt. But I don’t think Baz or Penny were quite rational at that moment. It’s their biggest fear for me, played out, now that I don’t have magic anymore.

Took me half the night to get Baz settled down enough to try the blood.

Better than the dried blood for certain. Better than the frozen too. Not sure how I was going to manage transporting it back and forth from Catford without another disaster like this one.

Got a big thermos is what I did. Went back a week later but they didn’t have any in stock. Finally got some a few weeks later and transported it home without incident. Thermos did the trick.

Their supply isn’t that reliable. I’m on their list to call when they have it now. The owner thinks I’m some private chef who specializes in blood sausage. The language barrier helps keep them from asking too many questions.

So that’s what I’m up to today. I’ve got a list of butcher shops I called Monday that said they get fresh blood every so often. I’m going round to see if they look reputable and clean. Won’t be getting dodgy supplies for Baz.

I’m hoping if I find enough suppliers I put them in a rotation of sorts. You know something like Catford first Friday of the month, Ealing every other Thursday, Camden on alternate Tuesdays. Something like that. So I’ve always got a supply on hand for Baz.

Keep him from having to prowl around as much at night, especially once it gets cold again. Keeps him out of the dodgier neighborhoods too.

It’s almost six by the time I get home. I’ve got a list and dates and I’m going to put it on a spreadsheet to keep it all organized.

I’ve got two thermoses in my backpack so that’s all right then. I tuck them into the small refrigerator under my desk and head to the shower.

It’s almost eight by the time Baz texts me that he’s on his way over. I’ve got the spreadsheet all done and put the pick-up reminders in my phone.

He’s going to fuss about it all. Baz doesn’t deny it, like he used to, but he still hates talking about it. So I won’t say much. Just tell him I’ve found a steady supply and leave it at that. He doesn’t need to know the details.

That I went all over London today to find reputable distributors. That half of London thinks I’m a blood sausage specialist. That I set up a schedule for myself of when to get the blood. That the frig under my desk isn’t just there because I get hungry all the time.

Baz does so much for me.

I just want to do something for him.

Baz

My heart is pounding in my chest and I can't catch my breath. Simon is staring at me and I can't speak.

I've completely lost the ability to form coherent sentences and I can sense the anxiety rising in him at my continued silence.

This boy. This absolutely fucking gorgeous nightmare of a boy.

He's been fussing with different ways for me to feed for weeks now but I thought he'd finally given it a rest.

But no. I should know by now that Simon Snow perseveres and digs his heels in when faced with a conundrum.

I'm the conundrum.

I know the enormity of what he's done for me. He's minimizing it all, not telling me what I know is true.

That he's traipsed the length of London, personally scrutinizing these butcher shops. That despite his utter loathing of Excel he's put the effort in to make spread sheets--spread sheets, for Merlin's sake--to keep track of dates and times and locations. That he's volunteered himself to pick up the blood, so no one becomes suspicious of me.

Simon’s done all this for me and I'm speechless.

He’s said he loves me. I know he thinks he means it. I want to believe that Simon Snow loves me as desperately, as passionately, as absolutely as I love him.

But I've never really let myself believe it. Not until now.

And it makes me love him even more than I already did, if that's even possible.

I can feel the tears coming on so I grab Simon's shoulders and pull him towards me, burying my face in his neck, my arms tight around him.

"I love you, Simon Snow."He relaxes in my arms and pulls me closer.

"I love you, Baz."

And I know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, just how much he truly does.

[0poole]

God, recent cartoons are/will be dope.

Just binged Twelve Forever in 3 days (because I wanted to prolong the experience, but failed quickly) and like, even though it’s not the best thing ever it’s super fun and cute. The fact that it’s on Netflix, not only meaning I can watch it without a second thought, but also meaning that they can slip in actual talk about puberty and shit instead of clearly alluding to it while simultaneously sweeping it under the rug, and even bringing up straight-up non-straight relationships, makes it more interesting to watch. Especially with that last one, because without the episode blurbs they totally could’ve slipped Reggie’s crush on Conelly under the rug. I mean, Mack and Beefhouse would still be there, but still.

I was super hopeful that that episode was going to be more like a generic cartoon crush episode, except with a girl-to-girl crush, but maybe something like that will end up in an inevitable Season 2. It’s weird, because usually when I hear about “progressiveness” in cartoons it kind of has a weird aftertaste, where I’m overtly okay with it but have some terrible gut feeling about it for some reason, but this time like 90% of me breaking me trying to prolong the experience was fueled by that episode. I was so excited!

And the Butt Witch is the classic part of most cartoons that make some part of it super creepy and dark. It’s funny, the fact that she has a male voice was fitting somehow, even outside of the obvious lore reason. Plus, you can never pass up a lady with multiple arms~ It’s also weird how, despite clearly being super sexualized, they managed to make her butt the sort of funny-haha-cartoon butt instead of the this-is-a-sexy-cartoon butt. There was a scene of her crawling on her knees for a second, and her but was seriously drawn like it was porn. Trust me, I should know. It was strange, considering the TV-Y7-ness of the show.

It’s not nice to play favorites, obviously, but I definitely think my favorite of the native islanders is Galaxander. First of all, his name is perfect. Second, I die for any kind of star-motif. It’s like he was made for/by me. That bit where he was showing a family photo album, except all the photos were of galaxies and planets, was genuinely the best joke in the entire show. I love it/him. Also, Ester’s nonspecific Saturn powers are really cool, as well as her vaguely retro-futuristic look. Oh, and Pretty Please? It’s always the rabbits. ALWAYS.

Really, the one thing that can sell me on any cartoon is just great art/animation/character design. Without that, I probably would’ve passed this show off as one of those “haha lol xd so ramdom111!!!1!!!” shows. Hell, even something so simple as the thumbnail for the pilot short sold me. Reggie and Shane (may he rest in peace) looked practically identical to a duo dynamic of my own creation (gung-ho long haired ginger and darker, medium-lengthed hair male friend) and that really caught my eye. It’s even funnier, because those two characters also ended up being too similar in concept to Inside Out, meaning I had to change them from that, so I guess they’re just a really “normal” character concept.

Apart from Twelve Forever, we got Mao Mao, Heroes of Pure Heart, also readily accessible via the Cartoon Network website. I love their set up for that, where you just need to log in with a network provider as proof you could’ve watched the episodes live if you wanted to. Anyway, Mao Mao has the same deal as I just mentioned: Mao Mao himself looks super dope. Plus, the overall concept of “Edgy warrior protects innocent town from evil monsters” Is what sold me in the first place. Not only do I get a fair dose of action, but I also get a fair dose of cuteness. Also, the concept of Orangusnake (had to rewatch the first episode with subtitles to figure that name out) is just stupid enough that it works. Also also, Mao Mao’s family clearly being set up as either appearing later as actual, professional warriors or as dopey losers that he thought were just cool is making me super invested. 

Then, Infinity Train. The show with the balls to kill of some random nobody in the first episode. Also, what’s the trend with every lead character in these cartoons having parental issues? Either way, everything seen is dope (even if pointy-chin pilot Tulip is superior) and it’s hard not to want more.

I also just bought the first season of Amphibia so I’ll check back on that, like, tomorrow maybe. Waiting is for the birds. I will say that the giant evil insect designs are amazing so far, from the first episode.

But, Owl House has the potential to overtake ALL of these. Oh my god, who knew that adding a little lip onto a character would instantly make their cuteness skyrocket? Luz (hopefully pronounced “Looz” because that’s how my mind is saying it) is actually one of the cutest characters I’ve ever seen. Plus, she has a tiny pet Cubone! And also the potential for creepy monster designs, amazing stories... The potential is high here. 

That’s not even talking about that “Curse of Molly Mcgee” that we’ve only seen a poster for. It’s like its the era of cute girls. I’m dying here.

I’ve also heard Victor and Valentino is pretty good, with true-to-culture Mexican supernatural stuff. Sounds pretty cool, but due to the lack of cute girls on the poster I’ll wait until I’m bored. I have seen a cute goth girl inside of it, though, so I’ll have to watch to see where she fits in. I’m a sucker for thick eye liner and eyelashes(?) that are only visible on the lower half of the eye. 

That’s not even it, either. There’s bound to be something I’m forgetting. OK KO Is also dope but I’ve been watching that for a while, and Hilda’s pretty sweet, but is also old news (until we get another season). Like, so many modern cartoons are so great. Who needs anime?

[shy-violet-soul]

Try to Remember (1)

Pairing:  OFC Rae, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Summary:  A forgotten memory surfaces and breaks Rae’s heart.  How will the boys, with their own heartbroken history, help her heal? Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries/fatal injuries; grief; parent death; depression; angsty fluff Rating: Mature due to descriptions of canon-type gore Word Count: 3,700ish

A/N:  We all love the funny moments with the brothers.  But their sensitivity to someone else’s pain has always broken my heart a little, and I wanted to explore that. This is a companion piece to Life is Good (for you) & Just Desserts. You don’t have to read them to understand this story. This is my OFC Rae’s “origin” story. 

A huge, sparkly, fluffy hug to my 2 betas @pinknerdpanda and @thesassywallflower. Ladies, you get all the Sam cuddles!

This is a work of fiction based upon characters created and owned by the CW. My work is not to be copied/distributed elsewhere without my written permission.

Playlist for this part: Sign Your Name - Terence Trent D’Arby

It started out as a good day.

On their way back from a hunt in eastern Illinois, Rae had squealed with excitement when she stumbled upon a Yelp listing for an ‘80’s themed diner. Located just outside of Olathe, Kansas, they were apparently famous for their retro cuisine and milkshakes. After shamelessly begging Dean to stop, he’d grumbled about wanting to get home until she said the menu’s magic words: Sloppy Joes. So convinced, the group had detoured to the charmingly dubbed ‘Mixtape Medleys Cafe’. Hair band posters plastered on the walls, Guns n Roses and George Harrison blasted from the jukebox, and a menu loaded with nostalgic delights were a welcome break from gas station food.

 Dean was on his third Sloppy Joe sandwich, already rhapsodizing over the ‘Whatchmacalit’ candy bar milkshake he had ordered for dessert. Serious inroads made into his chicken caesar salad, even health-nut Sam had ordered something with actual, real sugar in it - a ‘Vanilla Cow Tale’ milkshake. Her plate of mini bagel pizzas stood empty as Rae laughed, waiting on her ‘Nerds’ milkshake. Another monster defeated, a nice young man saved, the three of them unscathed, and now their bellies were full and faces smiling.

It really had started out as a good day.

People talk about memories hitting them like a tsunami, or a ton of bricks. That’s not how it happened for Rae. It happened slowly. Like a glancing sprinkle of warm rain, barely noticeable. Then, another that spit into her face a bit. A pause, like the moment of calm before the unexpected thunderstorm when it was all blue skies and sunshine just a blink before.

One minute, Rae was laughing with the boys about something. Then, the distinctive drum beat tickled her ear. The reedy keyboard intro snagged her attention, and she glanced towards the jukebox across the diner. One heartbeat, two, and the unleashed memory wiped the smile from her face.

“Come on, honey, it’s our song!” her dad crooned, tugging her mom up from the couch. Rae giggled as her dad started grooving at the end of their outstretched arms, her mom rolling her eyes at his antics.

“You say that about every slow song, Alex.”

Smiling victoriously, Alex pulled her mom into his arms and began rocking side to side, winking at Rae where she sat on the floor with a book in her lap.

“But this is the one we danced to when I knew I was in love with you, Liz. So, it’s the most important.”  Pecking a kiss to her nose, Alex pulled her closer to his chest and closed his eyes. “‘Sign your name across my heart, I want you to be my baby.’”

Shaking her head, Liz smiled fondly at her husband.  “You still can’t sing, sweets.”

“‘Sign your name across my heart, I want you to be my lady!’” he yodeled out comically, drawing giggles from both girls. He tucked their entwined hands up into his shoulder and pressed a grinning kiss to her smile. Rae’s little nine year old heart warmed with happiness; her parents loved her and loved each other. She knew she’d remember their song forever.

And now, they were dead.

“...you okay?”

Rae flinched as a hand on her arm pulled her back to the present. She blinked at Sam seated next to her, then over at Dean. Shaking her head a bit to try and clear the fog, Rae drummed up a smile.

“Yeah.  So, you duct-taped the guy to a chair, and started hacking the place with an axe?” Rae tried to pay attention as Sam told the story. But the crooning rock n’ soul voice had opened Pandora’s box, and more memories came pouring in. As the brothers’ chatter filled her ears, the bittersweet warmth of the recollection skirled into something cold. Instead of the cracked vinyl seat beneath her fingers, the raw bite of rope echoed in her wrists. The scent of french fries and sugar melted into smoke and camphor.  And the images…

“Hey, there, honey bun! Here’s that milkshake for you!” The older, pink-haired waitress plunked the tall, frosted glass down in front of her with a flourish before she started teasing Dean about the saucy mess on his face. Lost in her head, Rae didn’t notice the woman collect up empty plates and promise the men their forthcoming desserts.  

Pointing out missed smudges to Dean as his brother wiped up with a napkin, Sam’s gaze moved back to Rae. For someone who had completely geeked out over a ‘Nerds’ candy milkshake, she seemed to be uninterested in the beverage now. She stared blankly at the glass, off in her own world. Dean noticed her preoccupation, too, and reached over to give the glass a little nudge.

“Hey, Rainbow, it’s melting.  Drink up!”

They watched as Rae blinked back to them from wherever she’d been, glancing back and forth between them before swallowing carefully and pushing the milkshake away from her.

“I changed my mind. You can have it.”

Dean’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’ve got crispy-peanutty-caramel goodness headed my way. That’s all yours, make me proud.”

Without a word, Rae slid the glass towards Sam, offering it to him with a bob of her chin.  Sending her a quizzical smile, Sam urged it back to her.

“Extra pink ‘Nerds’ on top. Just like you asked. And a cherry!” he crowed, nabbing the goody by the stem and dangling it out to her.  

Normally her favorite part of a milkshake or sundae, the sight of the sweetness through the haze of her memories churned her stomach.  

The smile she offered was a sad little effort. Now Sam’s eyebrows quirked, halfway to his famed ‘puppy dog’ eyes when Rae merely shook her head before getting to her feet.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room. Be right back.”

When she didn’t add on her usual, ‘don’t leave me again’, the brothers looked at each other.

“Okay, something’s up. What did you do?” Dean demanded.

“Yeah, I know. Wait, what? Why does it have to be me that did something? What did you do?”

The elder Winchester scoffed in denial. “I’ve been here the whole time, minding my own business with my ‘Manwich’ perfections.”

“She was fine up until the last couple of minutes. What were we talking about?”

Dean scowled as he thought. “We were talking about that time we went to the Mystery Spot and I died a lot. She was laughing about you trying to keep me from eating breakfast.”

Shaking his head, Sam frowned as he glanced towards the bathrooms. “Something’s not right.” Their waitress, Cyndi, reappeared, her sparkly-blue-shadowed eyes narrowed with concern.

“Hey, fellas, that honey bun of yours not happy with her shake?”

    Flashing her his most charming smile, Dean answered, “actually, she’s not feeling well.  If it’s not too much trouble, could we get our two shakes to go? And the check, if you don’t mind.”

Cyndi hurried to take care of things, and two styrofoam to-go cups and the guest check were delivered promptly. As Rae appeared, the men got to their feet to greet her.  

“Hey, Rainbow, you ready to blow this popsicle stand?” Dean asked.

Quiet, a little pale, Rae saw the concern they failed to hide and valiantly tried to swallow the lump in her throat and smile.

“Yeah, let’s get home.” As Robert Palmer began belting out ‘Simply Irresistible’, Dean tucked Rae into his side and sauntered them towards the Impala.  Sam tossed some bills on the table and hurried to follow.

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

Sam and Dean stole surreptitious glances to the backseat for the next thirty minutes or so. When the silence began to crawl on her skin like ants, Rae forced some life into her voice.

“How about some AC/DC?” The brothers flashed each other a look before Dean thumped Sam in the chest.

“You heard the woman!  Gimme the good stuff, bro, and keep your cake hole shut!”

Sam’s annoyed tones, Dean’s cackling mixed together with the soft clatter of the tapes rummaging together as Sam fished out the designated cassette and popped it in. ‘Back in Black’ promptly blared forth, and as Dean began drumming on the steering wheel, Rae let herself curl up and fade in the lack of attention.

It was taking everything she had to hide it from them.

Seven months, three weeks, and five days. It had been an exercise in blissful hyper-focus to count it out as Baby ate up the miles. Seven months, three weeks, and five days since they’d died. The early days had been about healing. Then, after the brothers shared the truth of their family business with her, the later weeks had been all about reeling. After countless hours of inactivity, Rae’s broken heart had craved industry. Anything to keep her from looking at memories too closely. So, she’d put that Master of Library Science degree to use and become the best damn researcher the Winchesters had ever seen. The familiar rhythms of reading and analysis comforted her while the unfamiliar topics kept her wholly engaged. Engaged meant busy. Busy meant distracted. Distracted meant forgetting.

Forgetting meant she never had to grieve.

That grief, along with all the memories, bitter and sweet both, Rae cobbled into her own personal Pandora’s box. Then, she promptly ignored it, walking her days untroubled. Until one jukebox song cracked it open.

As the Impala rumbled its way into the bunker garage, Rae blinked into the quiet when Dean cut off the engine. Exhaustion suddenly swamped her, her feet heavy as Rae dragged herself out of the car. As she strode towards the stairs, Rae tried to straighten her shoulders.

They’re watching you. Look normal. You’re fine.

They’d seen her unconscious, peeved, sassy, laughing, focused. But this Rae they’d never seen. Quiet. Not just quiet, but almost...not there. Their sharp eyes missing nothing, the brothers chatted to each other with seeming nonchalance as they followed her down into the library.

“All in all, that wasn’t a bad trip.” Dean dropped his duffel on the table, tagging after Rae into the kitchen.  

“Yeah, it was nice to have a regular milk run. I need to update the records,”Sam mumbled around a yawn.

Rolling his eyes, Dean strolled to the frig and opened it. “C’mon, man.  We scored one for the good guys. It’s Miller time.  Relax,” he urged, pulling out three beers and handing one to Rae.

She took it wordlessly, the glass cold against her fingers. The bunker’s scent of concrete, steel, old books, and gunpowder, so familiar a few days ago, now felt wrong.

It should smell like vanilla from Mom’s baking, and Dad’s Old Spice cologne. Deep voices from the brothers wavered into her thoughts distantly, and an awful lump grew in her throat. That should be Mom complaining about Dad always leaving his coffee cup on the counter, and Dad yelling from the back porch about someone hiding the grill utensils again.  Like horrid little fiends, the memories leaked out of that carefully cobbled box. They roiled in her head like awful eels. I miss the creak of Mom rocking in her chair, and Dad snoring under his newspaper on the couch. I miss them holding hands when they walked together. 

The lump in her throat grew, burning up into her eyes and blinding her. I want to hear Dad whistling while he does the dishes. I want to see Mom trying to carry all the clean laundry down the hall in one go, and cussing when she drops the socks. I want…

“I don’t know why you’re always so down on everyone except Metallica and Zeppelin.  There’s other good music out there, Dean.”

“Whatever, Fall Out Boy. Hey, there was that song at the diner. Dad hated that song, but it was kinda cool.”

“Which one?”

The older brother scratched the back of his neck as he thought. “I think the singer changed his name, but it was Tony. Timothy. Terry?”

Cocking his head to one side, Sam frowned as he thought. “You mean, Terence?”

Dean pointed at his brother. “Yeah!  Terence Trent D’Arby sang it.  How did it go? ‘Sign your name across my heart?’” he mumbled out.

The sob that tore from Rae sounded like it was ripped straight from her soul, yanking their attention to her. The beer bottle slipped from her suddenly limp hand, smashing into foamy shards on the floor. They darted towards her when she wavered, Sam wrapping his arms around her before she collapsed knees-first into the broken bottle at her feet.

“Rae! Rae, what is it?”

“Rainbow, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Their questions garbled into her ears as if she was underwater. Months of tears torrented through her, opening up an ocean of grief that pulled her under.

The agony left her drowning.

Sam’s heart pounded in his chest as he scooped Rae into his arms when she sagged against him, plopping to the floor and holding her in his lap. Dean knelt in front of them, his own heart chugging with alarm at Rae’s continued sobs.  

“What happened?” Dean carefully brushed messy caramel-colored strands from her face. “Rainbow, talk to me!”

Distantly, Rae felt warm, rough hands on her face, strong arms surrounding her. A fleeting dart of awareness over the Winchesters’ alarm stitched through her, and she tried to speak, but her throat closed up over another choked cry. The urgent calling of her name had her desperately sucking at air as she tried again.

“What? What did you say, Rae?” Ducking his chin to try to look into her face, Sam tried to maneuver her so he and Dean could see her.

“S-saw...”

“It’s okay, Rae, just take a breath. We got you,” Dean tried to soothe her, keeping his voice gentle.

“The s-song-” The men blinked at the coughed out words. Sam’s mind spun as he tried to think.

“You mean, from the diner? The Terrence guy’s song?” Another harsh cry tore from Rae as she weakly nodded her head.

“Theirs.”  

Gently squeezing her a bit, Sam quizzed her again. “Whose song, Rae?”

“M-muh….peh-peh...parents.”

Dean felt his windpipe squeeze as he looked up to meet Sam’s gaze. He saw his own memories in his brother’s eyes - their first meeting with Rae.

Baby’s doors groaned open before the car fully stopped. The brothers sprinted up the lawn, their boots sliding a bit on the rain-slickened grass. Smoke bit acridly into their faces when Dean kicked in the front door. Maniacal laughter mocked them as they took in the scene. Blood pooled steadily beneath a woman crumpled on the floor. A lone figure tied to a chair writhed as it burned.  His horrid, awful screams clawed at them in jagged edges.

“Heil!  All heil to the Thule!” cackled the young blond man rocking side to side feverishly. Aaron Bass hadn’t known the identity of the Thule operative wreaking havoc in the northeast, just that he and the golem couldn’t get there. His plea for help had sent the Winchesters hurrying to Bennington, Vermont. As Sam pointed his gun at Christoph Nauhause, the memory of letting him walk away from them once had both guilt and rage churning in their guts. A bullet in his brain silenced the peals of unholy glee, but the man immolating in front of them continued to scream out his agony. Dean knew the man was too far gone to save; frustrated tears and smoke itched in his throat as he aimed and fired. Abruptly, mercifully, the man died as his flesh burned around him.

Sam leaped over the sofa, crouching down beside the woman. The neat slice across her throat wasn’t deep enough to kill her outright, but the rapid blood loss pouring from the wound would soon enough. As Dean tried to extinguish the flames, Sam tried to comfort the dying woman.  

“Shhh, shhh, just be still,” he whispered, grasping her shoulder to try and subdue her shaking. She didn’t so much as glance at him, her gaze fixed towards the wall. One hand tremored outward, reaching, pointing spasmodically as her breaths wheezed wetly from her. Sam followed the line of her hand, distantly hearing Dean curse behind him.  

A young woman sat tied to another chair against the wall, hidden in the shadows. Blood from numerous, carefully placed stabs and cuts showed shiny in the flickering light from the fire. Tufts of ragged curls sliced from her hair dusted her front and lap. And her eyes, swollen, bruised, shone dark with dazed horror at the scene before her.

“Sam!  Sam, the fire’s spreading, we gotta go!” Dean suddenly jostled against him, following his gaze to the girl. As one, the brothers strode urgently to her side, knives quickly slicing her free. Sirens began calling in the distance as Dean pulled at a stubborn length of nylon. “Let’s go!”

With a violent yank at the last tie, Sam scooped the limp girl into his arms, following Dean as the elder brother kicked flaming furniture to clear a path. In moments, the Impala roared away from the incoming sirens, Dean watching the emergency vehicles brake in front of the scene as he drove them away.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted.The impotence and desperation of the failure in the rearview mirror suddenly swamping him as he pounded his hand on the steering wheel. In the backseat, Sam swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, at a loss for words in the moment. A movement from the girl caught his attention, her head lolling back as she stared vacantly out the window. The whisper, nearly lost to the rumble of the engine, broke his heart.

“Momma...Dad…”

In the next heartbeat, she’d sagged into unconsciousness. They’d taken her to their hotel room, the next twenty-four hours a whole different battle. The brothers stitched her up, bandaged her, dosed her. They took it in shifts sitting up with her. Watching. Waiting. Not just for any sign of life. No, after that painful loss, the Winchesters were ready to take on whatever reaper dared to darken their doorstep. They wanted a win - needed it. Loss after loss weighed on the brothers like Atlas’ own burden.  

Reaper, or hellhound, or whatever douchebag deity ruled the roost finally decided they were due a sliver of good luck. No one came knocking for her soul that night. They didn’t have to mourn another loss behind silence, whiskey, or work.

Slowly, over the crawling-by days, bandages and antibiotic cream were swapped out for lore books and the internet. She just seemed to fit, all at once, into a space in them they didn’t know was empty. She seized onto things with a tenacity that rivaled theirs. New resources of research opened before them with that librarian background. Dean even started grinning with pride at how she was coming along with her shooting (not that she was going to be let out of Baby on hunts anytime soon). Rae grew into that surprise space so smoothly and quickly, the brothers almost didn’t notice that she never mourned.

She was mourning now.

The pain squeezed her chest until she couldn’t breathe, her hands cold as she sank deeper into this ocean. Her body pulled at oxygen, and it fueled a sudden, awful rage within her. It geysered up out of her belly and into her head, ripping a shrill scream free.

“Why?! I wanna know why!” When her fists tightened in their shirts till the wrinkles pinched them, the boys didn’t even flinch at the sting. Sam squeezed her tighter as she screamed, eyes closed under the weight of her pain. Dean’s hands stroked her hair, a gentle answer as she thrashed in their arms.

Slowly. Slowly, the clangor caved to their quiet. She sagged spent and hiccuping in their arms.

“I don’t even know where they’re buried. I mean, it’s probably at Park Lawn. Dad’s parents are at Old Bennington, but Mom didn’t like it there. She didn’t want people tromping over her grave trying to find Robert Frost.”

 “She didn’t like Robert Frost?” Sam asked quietly.

 A sad, sorry chuckle croaked from Rae.

“She hated birch trees. Had one in our backyard that kept getting fungus. She held a grudge on the man for making the damn trees so popular.”

Dean dragged his fingers softly through her hair, squeezing her knee with his free hand.

“She held a grudge on a dead guy for a poem about a tree?”

“Yup.” Her chin quivered back another sob. “Daddy had me researching arborists to try and save it for her again.” She shrugged her shoulders, a loose, weary move as she swallowed the stickiness in her throat. “And now they’re gone. Me, too, I guess.”

Sam felt his heart pounding on the lump in his throat as he let himself hug Rae the teensiest bit closer against his chest. Let his chin rub against her hair just a breath.

“You’re not gone, Rae. I know - I know it’s hard. Just try to remember that you’re here. And we’re here.”

The message hung loud and clear in the quiet, their comfort an anchor in the torrent that still tugged at her. For whatever reason, her life had been spared. Purpose still existed for her. Friendship, camaraderie still surrounded her.

If Dean’s gaze urged his brother to voice anything softer, warmer than friendship, Sam’s bitch face shot him down as Rae tiredly rubbed her eyes.

“Hey, Rainbow. Why don’t you go take a hot shower? I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Her eyes still dim, she tried to smile for Dean.

“My hot chocolate or Dean hot chocolate?”

Easing back on his heels, Dean took her hand as he and Sam both helped her up.

“There is nothing wrong with a shot of rum in hot chocolate. Delicious and nutritious!” he proclaimed. His words had the desired effect as a bigger smile tugged at her features.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Sheepish eyes ducked away from their gazes as Rae squeezed their hands and headed for the hall. A moment later, they heard her bedroom door shut. They stared at each other, the heaviness of the scene still playing on them.

“We’ve gotta tell her, Sam.”

“I know.”

A/N: Liked it? Read part 2 HERE.

[dorleing]

Secret Santa 2018

Merry Crisis @disorganizedkitten !! Hope you enjoy!! Thanks to @mlsecretsanta for hosting it!

Alix had seen far too many pairs of underwear for it to be okay. Too many pairs that weren’t hers, period. 

“Oh my god, Kim. Pull up your trousers. You ain’t ever be gangsta. You look stupid.”

“You’re just jealous of my amazing butt muscles.”

Alix and Kim were in the lunch line, waiting to be fed a substandard meal. Kim had lost a bet against Ondine last week that he could hold his breath for longer than she could. His punishment was to wear something other than athletic clothes for a full week (including sleepwear!). Ondine had been hoping to see him dress in style, like maybe a button up shirt tucked into nice slacks, but it appeared that Kim was oblivious to more than just the people around him. He thought that 2012 American wannabe gangsta was perfect for him and his newfound “swag”, and delightedly showed off his plaid pairs every chance he got.

Alix thought that if she ever had to see a Gabriel waistband again, she would murder somebody. And it wasn’t just Kim; no, he set off a ‘retro’ trend around the entire school of Francoise Dupont. Only the few didn’t follow this trend: Adrien, because there was no way in hell his father would let him leave the house with his underwear showing (that was strictly for photo shoots), Ivan, a man of sense, and Max, who said suspenders were more necessary than ever with the current trend.

“You know what, Kim? I am jealous of your Kardashian rear. Because you can show your butt to anyone you like and go shirtless anywhere, but as soon as I show as much as a bra strap, I get called out for public indecency!” Kim went pffft at that. Alix had had enough of his attitude for one day. She looked down at her chest, and then out to the cafeteria where the student body was happily eating their meal. Giving Kim the side eye, Alix spoke. “I bet you 20 euros that I can get the staff to send me to the office for dress code violation in less than thirty seconds.”

“Y’know what, I actually want to see that. Deal.” They shook hands, and Alix ripped her shirt off. She tossed behind her and smirked at Kim. She was in a sports bra and thin-strapped cami, nothing exposed but her shoulders.

The vulture-eyed Mendelieve came storming over to them. “Miss Kubdel! Put your shirt back on immediately or I’ll have to give you a demerit for public indecency!” The fury in her face was palpable as she glared down her nose at the aforementioned student.

“No.” Alix crossed her arms and glared back, channeling as much defiance as she could muster, preparing to tantrum. 

Apparently, it worked, because she had no less than two staff members escorting her to M. Damocles office a minute later, Kim giving her a look of respect as she was frog-marched from the cafeteria.

“Miss Kubdel, would you please put a shirt on while I’m talking to you,” Principal Damocles said, holding out a large t-shirt to her while facing away.

“Why?” Such a simple question, Alix thought. One that would really help her prove a point.

“W-why? P-please, child,” Damocles spluttered. “I simply cannot talk to you when you’re in such a state. It’s indecent, and frankly, distracting.”

Alix allowed herself to gasp with dramatics Chloe would approve of. “I’m distracting to you?” Alix shifted her weight to one side. “Do I need to call another teacher in here, M. Damocles?”

“Of course not!” Damocles snapped. “Why would we need someone else to help me discipline you?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be for you.” Alix sneered. “They would be here for my protection, obviously.” M. Damocles looked a bit confused. “Y’know,” Alix started. “To keep me, a minor who hasn’t finished maturing into an adult body, from being preyed upon by an adult man in power,” His eyes widened at her statement. Damocles stammered again.

“I am not- I would never- That is an outrageous claim-”

“Is it though?” Alix said. “You are always alone in here when students are sent in, and you are well known for getting students to behave after they see you. How can anyone be sure you’re not persuading any student who comes in here? All it would take is one person…”

“Get out.” He said. “Put a shirt on and get out of my office.”

Alix smirked. Grabbing the shirt off the desk she sauntered out of his office, knowing she was twenty euros richer and had a plan of action on her side. Now all she needed was support.

 “Ailx, you know I fully share your sentiments, but are you sure this is a good idea?” Marinette said from behind her sketchbook. The Girl Squad was gathered on the steps of Trocadero, with the addition of the newly indoctrinated Chloe and Sabrina, who were off to the side absorbed with their phones.

“Absolutely, Mari. I am sick and tired of the blatant sexism happening at school. I want to be able to show my shoulders at school if the guys walk around with their pants around their ankles.”

“I’m in,” said a voice from the edge of the group. Everyone looked over in surprise at Chloe examining her nails. “What? Just because I dress more effeminate than all of you doesn’t mean I don’t want freedom of choice.”

“Yeah,” Juleka spoke up from Rose’s lap. “I’m sick of teachers saying my ripped leggings show too much skin.”

“I remember I’ve been told to zip my hoodie up because my shirt was too low cut. I can’t help that I’m busty and the girls do what they want from time to time.” Mylene offered.

“I can do an expose on the school blog to help gain more support,”

“I can make posters!”

The girls started shouting about how they could help Alix. She smirked at Marinette’s new look of resolve.

“Okay, Alix, but I can’t do my part alone. You all will need to chip in with supplies, and come in for fittings.” Everyone started nodding. “But! I’m not a miracle worker. I’m thinking I can finish these in three? weeks with help.”

“My daddy’s started being a bit too old-fashioned for my tastes lately, so I’ll handle material expenses.” Chloe smirked.

Alix brought a notebook out of her bag. “Now here’s a bunch of points to take note of when we start researching our arguments, and I also brought a copy of our school’s dress code,”

 Marinette was yawning, trying to finish the first set of outfits by the end of the weekend. Alya had left a few hours ago, being the last to go home of all the girls helping put together the new outfits. A thump from her roof and one “Hello, Princess!” later and she had a new helper. Chat Noir was surprisingly knowledgeable of the specific stitches Marinette was using to create the illusionary effects.

“I may not have your amazing skills, Princess, but I am purrfectly well versed in your lingo,” He said, nuzzling into her neck as she was trimming a hem. Marinette failed to hide her blush, his quiet laughter ringing into the night.

 Alya’s eyes were drooping. Her laptop screen was too bright, and her head hurt, and she wasn’t finding reliable sources on dress codes at the moment, and she-

Nino’s ringtone called out like a beacon in the night. Alya lept from her chair to grab her phone on the bed. “Hey, Nino,” She said, trying to not sound too eager and out of breath. “What’s up?”

“Nuthin’ much, babe. Just wanted to see if your super-secret research had killed you yet.” Alya could hear his eyeroll and burning curiosity. “And to say goodnight in person.”

“Nino, you can’t call it ‘in person’ if it’s over the phone,” She corrected, teasing him back.

“I know,” He laughed. His breathing was a bit labored, she noted. “Are you hungry?”

“A bit- why?” Her doorbell rang, and she gasped. “NINO, you didn’t-” she said, launching herself out of her room and tore down the hall.

“I did,”

She wrenched the front door open to see a flushed Nino with a bag of food and a phone to his ear, grinning like an idiot. Both phones fell to the ground a moment later as the two nerds collided.

 “Hey ladies,” Adrien crept up behind Marinette, spooking the poor girl. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re planning a protest.”

“So what about it?” Alix narrowed her eyes at him. “What d’ya want to know?”

Adrien looked at her curiously from his place on Marinette’s shoulders. “I want in.”

“what”

“I want to partake in your protest. Wear what you’re going to wear, help highlight double standards, bring in a privileged face. That sort of thing.”

“Fine,” Alix snapped. The other girls gave her a look of surprise. “What? I just wanted to keep it secret for a bit longer, but some how this nerd,” she shook her fist at him in jest. “caught wind and I don’t want him letting the cat out of the bag,”

Adrien snorted at the last bit and Marinette shoved him off her. “Will your father even allow it?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Probably. Hopefully.” Adrien said with a grimace.

“Well then, I guess we’ll tell you more over lunch, but only if you’re buying,” Marinette called over her shoulder and sauntered away. Rose nearly fainted, with Juleka catching her before she hit the ground. Then Juleka dragged the still-swooning Rose down the hallway to their next class.

“Hey!” Alix snapped her fingers in front of Adrien’s dumbstruck face. “Lover boy!”

“Hmm?” Adrien snapped his eyes to hers. “Did you say something?”

“I said,” Alix muttered. “You’re a hopeless case. C’mon, let’s get to class. I don’t want to miss Chloe’s compliments today.”

That’s all for now, but I’ll have the next chapter out soon!

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2018 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest Part 1.0 Results!!

Again, thank you everyone for your patience. Too many random things popping up over the last 2 weeks. ^^; Whew, just got this posted before midnight. Sorry for the late night post for those of us in the US, but it’s kinda my thing, isn’t it? 

14 total entries between the two categories, but as always, a nice mix of new participants and veterans to this contest. Are the usual players coming away with the goodies, or have the newbies snuck in to wow us with their creative styles? While tumblr will shrink down all the images, I will include the full size uploads (well, almost for all - 2 were way too big) on my imgbox account. Just click on the “(FULL VIEW)” link for each one. Hopefully this way, there won’t be people who have trouble viewing them this time around. 

My thanks to @digitallyfanged and @jaybird-c for helping me judge the entries this time around!! We were all sorta on the same page it seems for our individual results, but it’s always harder when there is a smaller total of participants, because everyone is deserving in their own way. 

Thanks once again also to all who participated! For all winners [and there are 10 of you, out of 14], I will be contacting you as soon as I can about your prizes. If you didn’t win, there’s always next time...which starts as soon as tomorrow, when I announce Contest Part 1.1 (as in Mega Man 11)!!

Without further ado, after the break, here are your top 3 winners for each category, the raffle winners, and all of the fantabulous artwork!

CATEGORY 1: Ride Armor Road Trip 

[FULL GALLERY HERE]

1.) @follyknight: (FULL VIEW MAIN IMAGE LINK) (PHOTOS 1) (PHOTOS 2)

*Tabby’s #1 - I felt like out of all of the pieces, this hit the theme the hardest. Definitely showing the back of one of the cards was a really unique touch to the piece as well. And that LaLinde postcard. The CHEEK. “Hey dad, I visited your girlfriend while on vacation.”

*Jay’s #1 - I have got to hand it to Folly Knight, above and beyond doesn't begin to cover this. Eight postcards, each with a unique theme, composition, and aesthetic, and then all presented together? That's fantastic.

Miyabi’s #1 - Even as simple, everyday objects, that book and cup of coffee are painted so well! I appreciate all the various scenes you presented in your postcards, with emotions ranging in each one of them. From the hilarious “Shrimpin’ Ain’t Easy” bib to Blues’ loneliness in Fiji, your entry was varied and unique. I also felt your entry really represented the theme very, very well. 

2.) @multiple-sages: (FULL VIEW LINK PIC 1) (FULL VIEW PIC 2)

*Tabby’s #2 - This is very cute. I like that it showed summer activities from sort of a different perspective/culture. Not everything is action and traveling. Sometimes it’s small festivals and quiet cafes with friends.  Zero definitely seems like the type to sit around in a cat cafe for hours. 

*Jay’s #2 - Man, it was hard to pick -- a lot of these have great composition, but I think the #2 Spot should go to [multiple-sages for] Cinnamon and Zero. It does a great job at setting the scene for the moment and raises a lot of interesting questions as to how exactly we got here. Obon postcard is also very good, but of the two, this is a slightly less evocative piece (that is, there's less story apparent here)

*Miyabi’s #2 - Both cards look super cute, and show different ways the hunters spend their time not battling Mavericks, while experiencing tradition in Japan. The Maverick Hunter logo stamp on Axl’s was a nice touch. The little kitties are all adorable, either sleeping or pawing around with Zero’s luxurious golden teaser toy hair. Like Cinny is trying, it’s hard to hide your smile while looking at that scene!

3.) Steph O’Dell: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Tabby’s #3 - A very cute image of the ladies at the beach. Everyone needs some sun! I do dig how you made it sort of look like a selfie. 

*Miyabi’s #3 - While the hubby is away, the girls will play. Haruka finally gets out of the house and to the beach with some friends. The selfie style was a different take compared to the other entries, while still feeling like a postcard. While the palm trees look like they’re just ‘shopped in, the rest of the background ocean and sand is deceptive enough where I couldn’t tell you had worked on that until I zoomed in closer. So kudos for making that part of your background look photorealisitic!    .

Runners up (in alphabetical order):

@bracedshark *RAFFLE WINNER ~ X7 4KOMA*: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Jay’s #3 (tie) - Very appealing and exceedingly well-composed, but kind of suffers a little from how they handle the text. There's a sizing issue the cuts some of the text short.

*Miyabi says - I didn’t know I needed to see starfish booblight Zero, but I am amused! XD I totally liked where you were going with the curved arc format for the text to match that familiar typefont on so many postcards, but I agree that the ‘from’ getting partially chopped feels like it just needed to be resized down a little more. Otherwise, a fun pic that fit the theme well!

@chaudandfrends *RAFFLE WINNER ~ ZERO ACCESSORY SET*: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Jay wrote - This drawing is ambitious, but I'm afraid it's more pictures with text over postcards.

*Miyabi says - I don’t care if I need to eat my calcium, I am not touching those fishbones, Captain Beefhead. Good mix of action with Yai, Dingo and Netto jumping into the water, to the rest of the crew reclining and enjoying their refreshing dip. The watercolor look to your sky and sand give a little contrast to the rest of your coloring technique for all the characters. LOL at Enzan ducky on his inner tube.

@forceway: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Miyabi says - Much like myself, a Shadow vacation involves not really going anywhere, not really doing anything, and just enjoying the simple things outdoors near home, while sipping an ice cold beverage. XD While you won’t see many Polaroids around these days, it feels fitting for these two bots. I felt it was a wonderful composition, and very enjoyable piece. 

@seabyrocks: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Jay wrote - I gotta say, I love Seabyrocks' sunset lighting, but I'm afraid the pose is a little simple and, I hate to break it to you, Rock, but you put your hands on backwards.

*Miyabi says - Nobody should visit Mega City without a commemorative autographed heroic Rock Light postcard! I do think you did wonderful blending those sunset colors in, on the right side of the pic. The purples and oranges are so pretty in the sky. Very cute!

@tealsalmon: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Jay’s #3 (tie) - Very appealing and exceedingly well-composed, but kind of suffers a little from how they handle the text, as it blends in with the darker parts of the background.

*Miyabi says - This turned out very pretty, and also gave me a laugh with Zero’s pointy helmet tips poking through his straw hat. Having a butterfly land on X’s finger feels so fitting for his peace-loving ways, and I loved the E-Tank being used as a container to hold all those fresh strawberries. Even the little details like the dirt and grass on Zero’s shovel are well done. 

CATEGORY 2: Ruby-Spears Mega Man: Plasma Powered Up!!

[FULL GALLERY HERE]

1.) @irissempi: (FULL VIEW ZERO SHEET RETRO)

(FULL VIEW ZERO SHEET CLEAN)

(FULL VIEW ZERO CAP RETRO)

(FULL VIEW ZERO CAP CLEAN)

(FULL VIEW ZERO CAP 2 RETRO)

(FULL VIEW ZERO CAP 2 CLEAN)

(FULL VIEW AXL SHEET RETRO)

(FULL VIEW AXL SHEET CLEAN)

(FULL VIEW X SCREENCAP)

(FULL VIEW LUMINE CAP RETRO)

(FULL VIEW LUMINE CAP CLEAN)

*Jay’s #1 - This. This is the picture that caught my eye immediately. The composition, the lighting -- this is one of those iconic series' images that gives you everything a character stands for. Lumine is going to end the world, and every second of it's gonna rock. Goofball Axl and hardcore samurai Zero are also winners.

*Tabby’s #1 - I love this. I love everything about this. I love the extra mile on making the design sheets, and making it look like a horribly ripped off tv shot. The corny dialogue. Clearly Ruby Spears needed to continue and make us an X series.

*Miyabi’s #1 - You get major kudos for using an actual Ruby Spears production sheet as your format, and adding those effects to make it look just like it was a photocopy I scanned. The grainy filter to make the ‘screencaps’ feel like they came from a VHS tape, and punny one-liners are wonderful! Thanks for putting in all the work to make your entry feel like it would fit in perfectly with the original series! (P.S. - those aren’t booblights for Zero anymore. Those are mammoth pec sunglasses, that would blind anyone who dares to stare at his super cool, manly chest!!! LOL)

2.) @kaitlinexe: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Miyabi’s #2 - Of course this theme was right up your alley, and you certainly didn’t disappoint! I can’t believe how many characters you tried to fit into this collage. While at first glance it might feel like you focused on mostly existing RS-characters, you really did add quite a few updated designs. I just have this feeling that you planned to be even more ambitious than this, but weren’t able to finish it as you hoped. But regardless of the lack of background, the work you put in drawing all of these characters is amazing! Kalinka, Treble Boost Bass, and Time Man are probably my favorites of your redesigns.The more pronounced spikes for Bass’ helmet and claws look so, so good!!

*Jay’s #3 - I gotta love all your new designs, and is your Skull Man taking notes from Hitoshi Ariga or am I just getting my hopes up? Bonus points for all the attention to detail and going out of your way to replicate the original style.

*Tabby’s #3 - You definitely have the style down pat here. It’s super clean. This would make a great poster, with a little bit of background work. 

3.) @pstart: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Tabby’s #2 - Dat Forte. You really changed up his and Gospel’s design quite a bit, and it definitely works within the Ruby Spears theme. Super kudos on the retro graphic design going on here. It almost looks like the back of the old DVD covers too.

*Miyabi’s #3 - Just from the look on his face, I feel like Bass would have the same wisecracks and would sound almost just like Proto Man...only with a deeper voice. And now I’m imagining Proto and Bass both harassing Mega in stereo. XD I like the "super” title twist to your ad, which would have played off the actual game well, if Ruby Spears got another season to coincide with Megaman 7′s release. It does feel like an ad I’d see in old gaming mags.

*Jay wrote - I like your poster design. Good job cleaving to the show's style, good job with the little details like the marketing schlock and copyright, great job with the classy reference to the old school instruction manuals.

Runners up (in alphabetical order):

@forceduser *RAFFLE WINNER ~ RUBY SPEARS WILY CEL*: (FULL VIEW PIC)

*Jay wrote - Block Man is a neat design; the plunging neckline is certainly evocative. This one, too, could've stood to have more personality exhibited.

*Miyabi says - From what little we’ve heard, Block Man’s dialogue in Megaman 11 is like by far the most fitting to be used in Ruby Spears. So he was a good, and relevant choice to try to tackle. Definitely can see his chiseled pecs hiding under his main shell, and feels like he’s at least been working out on leg day, doing squats while lifting his heavy body around everywhere. 

@hyperbole1729: (FULL VIEW COMIC) (FULL VIEW BURST)

*Jay wrote - Your Burst Man is something. The explosive nipples are going to haunt me. But as stand-out as your design is, I wish you would've shown off more of Burst Man's personality.

*Miyabi says - Your comic totally has the right tone with the dialogue, from Proto’s complaint not being able to deal the final blow, Wily being Wily, and the obligatory ‘sizzling circuits.’  It flows well, has some drama, and I totally read it all in their Ruby-Spears voices. Burst does seem like he’s bulked up just right, with some minor changes to his classic design. 

@3-oclock-blues *RAFFLE WINNER ~ ARCHIE COMIC INKED PAGE*: (FULL VIEW PIC) (FULL VIEW SPLASH)

*Jay’s #2 - Now THIS is promotional material. I love how well Bass is introduced by simply having him rage off into the distance. Everybody else, they're mad because they hate this moment. Bass?  Bass just hates everything. Splash Woman is also a neat design, but also shows off more design than personality.

*Miyabi says - BUT I WON’T MISS THIS TIME...With all the rage and fear from everyone around them, it’s quite amusing to see the two brothers smiling as they hold their glowing busters to each other. It’s chaotic, but also nicely almost ties in with the photo theme of the first category, too. Splashy’s side fins and more flowing waves protruding from her helmet are nice touches to her design. Would have been interested to see how she and other Light/Wily bots would have fit into that family photo. 

[lbthedirectorscut]

My Final Zine:

Here is my final, fully developed zine. It went through many iterations to get to where I was happy with it. The main idea I had for my front cover aesthetic was to make sure it looked nice when sat on a coffee table. As I wanted it to be simple, yet eye-catching to the naked eye. As it was a movie review zine I decided to use a DVD format as almost all movies came out on DVD at some point or another. I incorporated a blue version of my logo as the red logo stood out far too much on the baby blue backing. The plastic texture and masking tape was added to pay homage to DVD’s as they are almost obsolete. I also like the retro, aged vibe it gives off.

I was exploring many different forms of typography to create this page. I am loving the vintage, aged looking pieces of art at the moment and I love the concept of having a distressed and realistic looking piece of digital work. That I why. I went down the route I did. I tried to make this page look as if it used to be an old white piece of paper that was left out in the sun for too long, which lead to discolouration and ink leaking.

The typography here was inspired heavily by David Carson and his strange methods of composition. it started off with a straight line of type which I then used the envelope distort tool on to move the individual letters around to create the abstract forms of the text. Once this type was finished I duplicated the layers and changed the blending options on each layer to create the effect seen above. When this was done the canvas looked flat and empty, that is until I decided to create a low opacity, blue, liquefied background that would help to add texture to the canvas. I tried to keep this theme consistent throughout the zine, it acts as an intro to the movie that you are about to read about.

For the Men in Black information page I wanted to relate it to the movie. That meant I had to go with a space theme to keep in authentic. The galaxy in the background was created in photoshop and it was incredibly simple. I used the pen tool to sketch on the canvas in many, space-style colours and then used a heavy gaussian blue to create the galaxy effect I was going for. The stars where added using an in-built brush type in photoshop that I used to dot white spots around the piece.

This cover was made in a very similar way to the first, however, this time in red to reflect the poster colour that I used when screenprinting.

Overall, I really like the effect that was made on this information page. It was firstly created in illustrator where I used the blend tool to create the squiggly lines, which were then duplicated many, many times within photoshop. It was originally a blank black background but again, it looked far too flat so I used one of my pre-saved textures to add a nice crinkled page effect. The gun was created by getting a screenshot of the gun used in the movie and then thresholding it, whilst also using the blending options to create the transparent effect. I really like how this effect helped to merge it into the background, whilst also making it stick out. It really fills the blank space.

Again, this was created in the exact same way as the other two, however this time around it was using an orange colour palette as I always associate the colour orange with halloween.

This is probably my favourite page out of the entire zine. I love the colour palette and how much the orange pops. This was created using a physical paint roller and some sponges with temporary templates. I then tweaked the colours and composition to give the effect that is seen above. I think the fact that it started physically and went digital really satisfies me, and I would love to continue this method going forward.

I wanted to keep the same theme for this page as I did for my contents page. Almost like a new chapter page to divide up the zine.

I added my 3 movie posters at the end so that the person who bought the magazine could put it on a wall as a poster itself. I decided to do it this way instead of a tear-away poster as it allowed for you to change to a different poster if you get bored of a single one. its just as easy as turning a page and putting it back on a wall.

I wanted to end off the zine with something very simple and basic. I wanted to ease the viewer into the end instead of a very abrupt and contrasting to the rest of the magazine. That is why I chose to continue the colour scheme that was on the front. I tried the design without the sticker in the middle and it seemed empty and vague. That is when I decided to add the brand logo into the middle to help fill the void.

Overall, I am very happy with how my zine turned out. A step to upgrade it in the future would be to add more pages with more information about the movies, however, for now I am extremely pleased with how the design side of this turned out.