#gave him some extra whimsy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dirtbra1n · 13 days ago

Text

Seigi Sunday the third—sunday in our Hearts ❤️

read the first and second here and here!

(one day late is nothing to me by now and time is what you make it. let’s all pretend together Take my hand,)

hi! merry christmas! decided on a whim I’d speedrun this one and by god am I going to try really really hard. (I fell asleep.) just how these things go. (noooo kidding) having read over the first two again I’m making the executive decision this holiday to use the more legible black-on-white reading mode. if it wasn’t apparent by my punctuality or lack thereof These are shaped in full by whim. and whimsy!

speaking of whimsy, how is seigi doing this lovely christmas evening and also perfectly average saturday morning :) ?

he’s doing just OK! 👍

more seigi under the cut

"Good morning. Is something the matter? You don't look well." "I went out drinking with my exam prep class yesterday..." "Did you shower when you got back?" "…I just fell asleep immediately." "I see." Richard stood up, took his wallet from his pocket, and handed me a 1,000 yen note. "There's a public shower, laundromat, and convenience store in front of Shimbashi Station. You have fifty minutes to take a shower, launder your clothing, and chew some mint gum."

It gave rank a whole new meaning. I mingled with the businessmen and homeless people as I shoved my head under the shower. I pulled my clothes out of the dryer and pulled them on, bought some gum at the convenience store, chewed it and spit it out into some paper before returning to the shop where I was surprised to find a customer.

seigi…… I . kinda can’t look at you right now CHANGE CLOTHES AT LEAST!!!!!!! AT LEAST CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES!!!!! YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE GOTTEN RUN OVER BY A CAR!!!!!!!!! SMELLY!!!!!!!!!

It was a man. "Wow, late to work, are we? If this were my store, you'd be chewed out." I threw a "hey" at the man who snarkily greeted me. He was wearing a wrinkled black suit with a wine-red collared shirt underneath. Richard, who was sitting across from him, checked his watch. It'd only been 48 minutes. I was safe, right? I was still safe, I made the baseball hand signal at him, and Richard asked me to make some tea. His tone sounded civil. I guess that meant I did make it. "Wow, no response? Where's the 'with pleasure!'?" "I know I've mentioned this before, but this is a jewelry shop." "Sorry, old habits." Speak of the devil. A real host actually had showed up at the shop. I brought out some royal milk tea with extra ice, and the customer said "thanks" with a wink. His hair faded from blond to brown, his lightly tanned skin looked a bit neglected, and he had a loud voice. He was probably in his late twenties. He introduced himself as Satoshi Takatsuki. It seemed a little plain for a working name, so maybe it was his real one. "So, I'm lookin' for a stone that'll make for a nice conversation piece with my clients. Girls love pretty things, right? Ideally something convenient to carry around. You know, I heard about this shop. You're pretty cheap, right?" "I have done favors for various customers of mine, yes." "Man, you sure talk like a real Japanese dude! Does one of your parents have some Japanese blood in 'em?" "Neither does, actually." "I bet you've got a hundred percent success rate with the ladies, don'tcha? Are you sure you're not in the wrong line of work?" "Sir, what would you like with your tea? We have both sweet and salty options." "I've got a sweet tooth. You charge extra for this?" "No, is basic hospitality..." "That's Ginza for ya! No one's gonna nickel-and-dime you here."

Wait. Then when was I going to tell her that I wanted to go out with her? I would chat with Tanimoto over text from time to time. Mostly about rocks. Well, pretty much only about rocks. She'd send me photos of specimens she was fond of or particularly unusual rock formations. Like the cliffs in Inubousaki with big round holes carved into them or large grey rocks lined up on the shore of Ireland. I'd never know about all these places all over the world if I hadn't met her.

you can put this in the comparison column for later. you’ll see

When Tanimoto got completely absorbed in the world of stones, she was less cute and more... passionate and dashing. And always replied to me really fast. But I would feel a little depressed when our conversations ended. At the end of our longer exchanges, she'd always add, "Let me see your sports car sometime." It was gradually turning into her regular sign-off. Even if it was just a mistake, the enthusiasm on display in my "got it!" made it difficult to correct, and I would always respond "eventually" like an idiot.

dingus.

I was profoundly jealous of our current customer, who wasn't at the mercy of love but could enjoy romance as a commercial endeavor. Mr. Takatsuki smiled at me. "What's wrong, kid? Love troubles?" "Wha—are you psychic or something?" "Men only look at hosts with one of two things in their eyes: disgust or jealousy. And men who are in love tend to fall into the latter camp. It only makes sense." "Well, this is embarrassing. You hosts really are incredible." "That kind of honesty is a talent, too. I think you'd make an excellent host."

INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS THING TO ENCOURAGE HIM ON. really really right though. super endearing quality of his. my stupid best friend in the entire world seigi who is so so honest. and stupid

"Apologies for the wait." Richard set a black velvet box on the table. It was about the size of a large chocolate box, and I'd taken to calling it the box of wonders. It was just like a regular jewelry box, with the top connected to the base by a hinge. It looked kind of like an alligator when the lid was open. Mr. Takatsuki's eyes went wide when the lid slowly opened. Pretty much everyone who came into the shop had the same reaction. Gems were laid out in four rows on black cushions. They weren't part of any jewelry—just plain stones. Red, green, purple, pink, every color you could imagine. These multicolored gems were like a preemptive strike. Mr. Takatsuki smiled for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. "I'm kinda speechless! There must be a ton of people who'd kill for an opportunity to see stones like this just once in their lives. I'm absolutely tellin' my guys about this." "That would be most appreciated."

"You really have a head for business," Mr. Takatsuki said with a smile, leaning over the box. "Every gem conceals a rich story of its own, so regardless of which you choose, you won't find yourself wanting for conversation." "A rich story, huh? Honestly, to me they're all just red stones, yellow stones, or purple stones. "My customers who find all their options equally attractive tend to have a rather broad and clear aesthetic sense. Please, try picking them up and taking a closer look." “...I really think you're in the wrong line of work." Richard's cool and collected expression didn't falter at all. Which just made me get annoyed on his behalf. Where did this guy get off, coming into someone's place of business and telling them "you're in the wrong line of work"? Mr. Takatsuki shrugged and reached for a random stone, like the option had just occurred to him. "What's this red one? It's not a ruby, is it?" "That would be a garnet. You have excellent taste, Mr. Takatsuki." "Nah, I just saw rubies at another shop. Ruby red is a lot brighter. What's this green one?" "This may come as a surprise, but that is also garnet." "They're the same thing?" Mr. Takatsuki asked, pointing at the two stones. Richard nodded. "Red garnets were extremely popular in 19th century Europe, which is why their Japanese name, zakuroishi or pomegranate stone, references the color red. However, garnets are not exclusively red in color. This green stone, demantoid garnet, is from Russia. The blue garnet you may be familiar with from a story featuring a certain famous detective, however, is pure fiction. Garnets come in nearly every color with the exception of blue." “...Um, I didn't catch the name." "Of the green stone? Demantoid garnet." "No, yours, Mr. Shopkeep." There was a brief pause, but Richard's courteous smile remained untarnished. "My apologies. My name is Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian. Garnet happens to be the birthstone for January—do you have any interest in garnet, Mr. Takatsuki?" "Let me be real with you, Richard. Have you ever considered a change of career?" "Excuse me, sir, would you care for a dessert? We have soft adzuki jelly if you're interested." "Oh, come on kid, read the room. I'm trying to scout your boss here." And that's why I'm trying to help him out, I frowned very pointedly so only Richard would see. My boss, whose calm smile never faltered, closed his eyes and bowed. "Mr. Takatsuki, you have your calling just as I have mine." "The night life is so brilliant though. If you like gemstones, I'm sure you'll take a shine to it. Roppongi's rough these days. All an average-looking foreign host has to do is speak a little Japanese, and he's raking in millions a night." "The brilliance of a human life lasts but a hundred years, but this garnet right here was born from the Earth a hundred million years ago. Gems have long lifetimes, yet they generously accompany us for the duration of ours." "Now that's what I'm talking about! That's the kind of host I want in my establishment!" Mr. Takatsuki looked at me again. I knew what he was trying to say, but at the rate things were going, all of Richard's efforts to make a sale were going to be in vain. I flashed him a slightly displeased face, and Mr. Takatsuki smiled a glorious smile at Richard. It made him look young, but this was his manager side, not his host side, I supposed.

okay. Yeah sure. alright. you’re a sick sick man. but Whateve No actually Can we talk about this

“...That would be an amethyst. Crystalline quartz." "Amethyst! Even I know what that one is! It sure is pretty." "Please feel free to pick it up and take a closer look." Mr. Takatsuki said, "Don't mind if I do," and picked up the amethyst with his fingertips. It was about as big as my pinky nail—probably double the size of my pink sapphire. Richard mentioned that you could view the stone from more angles if you set it between two fingers on top of your hand. He demonstrated, setting the stone in between his pointer and middle fingers before placing it on Mr. Takatsuki's hand in the same fashion. Mr. Takatsuki finally smiled. "You sure have beautiful fingers. Is there some kind of story behind amethysts?" "Excellent question. Humans' relationship with amethysts goes back a very long time. If we reach back beyond the realm of written history, we find amethysts in grave goods at prehistoric sites, and we have records of the nobility in ancient Egypt using them as stamps on documents. It's not nearly as hard a stone as diamond, ruby, or sapphire, so they found more uses in day-to-day life. It's the birthstone for February and is said to help cultivate an open heart, love, and intuition." "Where do you learn all that stuff? Is there a school or something?" "I learn every day. In the course of my work, I have many opportunities to acquire new information, and I count among my customers some specialists who are far more knowledgeable than I." "Your world sure is fascinating. Just makes me want to hire you as a host even more. So, is it expensive?" The moment Richard said the price was 5,000 yen, both Mr. Takatsuki and I made a weird face. "Huh? Are you sure that's not off by a zero?" "The price is neither 500 yen, nor 50,000 yen. The prices of all goods and services, not limited to gemstones, are determined by the balance of supply and demand. And as the supply of amethysts is most steady and abundant, it is possible to acquire rather high-quality stones for a relatively low price. This particular stone came from Brazil, the world's foremost producer of amethyst, though they were commonly produced in Japan just a few decades ago—stones from Yamanashi are quite famous." Mr. Takatsuki looked vaguely frustrated, saying that prefecture is known for its grapes. Richard smiled. "Is it not a remarkable twist of fate that beautiful gem-like fruits are grown on the same land beautiful gemstones were mined from?" "Don't you play favorites! Yamanashi's not the only place that makes good grapes. I mean, they're good, but... this is getting off topic. Please tell me more about the stone." Richard bowed and began speaking eloquently again, almost like a talking doll. The scientific name for the stone was quartz. I supposed it was kind of like how ruby and sapphire are both corundum. There were all sorts of varieties of the mineral—citrine, smoky quartz, rose quartz, and so on—but they were all chemically almost identical and were all about the same hardness. A lot of mineral enthusiasts collected it. Excessive exposure to sunlight could cause the color to fade, so care had to be taken when storing them. In Europe in the Middle Ages, amethysts were prized by high-ranking members of the Christian clergy and treasured as spiritual artifacts. In the realm of fortune-telling, they were used as pendulums for dousing. And so on and so forth. Richard talked about stones seemingly forever. If you told him to talk, he could probably go on for an entire day. If you closed your eyes and listened, you'd never know it wasn't a Japanese person talking. His voice was neither too high, nor too low, and it had a mysterious warmth to it—like someone holding you tight. If I were Mr. Takatsuki, I'd ask him to stop, or apologize and leave. Me though, I could never do it. It'd be like being in the same cage as a ferocious beast and trying to force it to do tricks. Terrifying.

you’re sick. You are so sick

While I was refreshing their tea, I stole a glance at Mr. Takatsuki's expression, thinking it was getting about time for him to get going. But he was utterly bewitched by Richard—he wouldn't even look at me. His enthusiasm was tremendous. "Your tank empty yet? Or can you keep going?" "Hm, Mr. Takatsuki, you wouldn't happen to know the origin of the name 'amethyst,' would you?" "I wish I could respond to that with an, ‘of course I do,’ but I'm not so lucky this time. What language is it? English?" "Greek, actually. 'Amethystos,' meaning 'to not become intoxicated by alcohol.'" It felt like the atmosphere in the shop suddenly changed in that instant. Mr. Takatsuki's expression grew a bit more serious. Richard seemed to notice. "Oh, so it's a gemstone that prevents drunkenness? Like a healing crystal?" "It's an old legend. This stone has a beautiful purple color, so perhaps that's why it became associated with wine. It is said that Bacchus, the god of wine, offers his divine protection to owners of this stone." "'To not become intoxicated,' 'to not become intoxicated,’ huh? ...Yeah, I like it." He sounded unnatural and listless as he added excuse upon excuse. I was sure he was going to buy it. He went down the line, looking at the other stones, but ultimately settled on the amethyst, just like I expected. "Do you just sell it like that? Or can I have it set?" "You mean this amethyst? I can have it set in a piece of your choosing—a ring, a tiepin, bracelet, or whatever else you might like. Of course, the cost and timeframe will vary, depending on exactly what you choose. I can have a designer sketch something up for you as well." "Yeah, I don't need anything that fancy. You've gotta have like a catalog I can pick from or something. That's good enough for me. Probably shouldn't go for a tiepin, it'd be hard to tell if I dropped it or something. What would be fastest? A necklace would be fine, too." "If you aren't set on this particular stone, I do have finished amethyst accessories in stock." "I like your gumption. Lemme see what you've got then." It was only another fifteen minutes after Richard went into the back room to replace the contents of the box of wonders that Mr. Takatsuki left the shop. Richard had three amethyst pendants to choose from, and Mr. Takatsuki selected the largest one. The stone was at least the size of my thumbnail and cut into a square with rounded corners. Its edges were wrapped in gold. It was a pure purple, like a morning glory, and the back was rounded off so as to not scratch the wearer's skin when worn. The chain was the same gold as the wrapping around the stone. It was rather delicate, as it had been designed as a piece for a woman, but when Mr. Takatsuki put it on, you could just about smell the aroma of nightlife wafting off it. The price: 15,000 yen. "It's almost like a toy," Mr. Takatsuki said with a smile. He left the shop in high spirits, oblong jewelry box with amethyst pendant inside in hand. He couldn't resist asking Richard to think his offer over before he left though. "...Think he was drunk?" "I'm quite sure he was sober. That was all an act." "Do you think he'll return it later?" "He won't. He appeared to be satisfied with his purchase."

I knew about the camera at the entrance, but I guessed there were cameras in the shop proper, too. But there were only valuables in the store when Richard was here, so the real concern was less burglars and more customers with ill intent.

I've always had exceedingly average looks, so I've never felt especially flattered by compliments on my appearance or particularly upset by insults to it, either. That said, I didn't think there were all that many men who were routinely scrutinized for their appearance, unless they're on Richard's level. The place my mother worked at before her current job at the hospital had a serious sexual harassment problem, and she'd often complain over a beer that she wasn't dressing herself for their sake. Richard had the same feeling about him now. Beauty wasn't something people engaged with to please strangers. People were welcome to appreciate what they would, but they should know it didn't give them the right to treat people however they wanted. "Um, so… I swear I don't mean anything weird by this, like, seriously, I don't mean it like you might think, but—" "Don't you think that excessively long and circuitous preambles are rather rude, too?" "I just wondered if you feel like people telling you you're handsome and beautiful is kinda... insulting. Sorry," I added, and Richard made a strange face. After a moment, he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was something eerily childlike about his expression. "Do you think telling someone with blond hair that they have blond hair is some kind of insult?"

let’s circle back to the narcissism thing from last chapter actually

"You know, I really don't love it when you act so full of yourself! Agh, I put my foot in my mouth said ‘love’ again!" "Just stop talking for a moment. I know what you meant. Do not worry about it," Richard repeated emphatically. He returned the products to the safe and took a sip of the fresh milk tea I'd made when he came back. I never thought of myself as someone who would perpetrate sexual harassment, but I might've been a lot more insensitive than I realized. At this rate, I just knew I'm going to say something stupid to Tanimoto and ruin everything. I've gotta be better. Richard sat alone in the lounge, eating the leftover adzuki jelly. It tasted just like red bean paste, but it was clear and there were goldfish—both common and fancy ones—swimming in the sweet, delicate substance. A little while ago, I asked him if he thought Japanese confections paired well with milk tea, and he glared at me, saying I was belittling royal milk tea. It was starting to seem more like a religious belief than mere opinion. Richard called my name, as though he noticed I'd been staring at him. He was still looking at the dessert as he spoke. "What? If you tell me not to look at you, I won't."

"The only relationship between you and I is that of employer and employee. Praising my appearance won't make me any more inclined to raise your wages, and I'm sure you're aware of that. Praise with ulterior motives is just sycophantic bootlicking. That said, earnest, spontaneous words of praise are an exclamation of sorts, nothing more and nothing less. The natural beauty of gemstones—even of those with little financial value—can soothe the hearts of people and grant them strength to keep going. I believe that is the true value of beauty." "I think I get what you're saying. That's kind of how I feel whenever I look at you." "Then perhaps it would be fair to say that your ‘you're beautiful’ comments are essentially the equivalent of ‘I'm in a good mood because the weather is so lovely today.’ They do not bother me." "Thank you. Well, if I do say something like that again by accident, I would really appreciate it if you just brushed it off." I forced a smile, and Richard frowned. What did I do this time? "...While it may not bother me, surely you have invited your fair share of unfortunate misunderstandings by making rash comments without much thought?"

maybe I shouldn’t have said that ALL-TIMER

I began wiping down the table, and Richard returned with a sullen look on his face. He looked a little red, even.

me when I lie This is my favorite bit ever by the way. richard you are so so so sick. and you brought this on yourself :)

Refusing to look me in the eye, my boss sat back down in one of the lounge chairs by the window and clasped his hands. He looked like something was bothering him, and it didn't seem like a sudden stomachache. The whole thing was very unusual. Richard silently stared out the window for a bit before abruptly mumbling, “...I wonder if he really deserved to own that amethyst." "What?" What was he going on about? Didn't he land the sale he was working on that whole time? Richard hung his head, burying it in his clasped hands. "I believe that every stone deserves to end up in the hands of someone who understands its true beauty and will treasure it—such would be a happy ending for both parties. But it makes me wonder... How should I put this... Yes, perhaps I, too, have acted rashly." "You mean you wish you hadn't sold it to him?" "Rather that I wonder if selling it to him was the right decision." There's a difference? Richard was being weird. I'd never seen him question a sale like that before. I know he said he was used to it, but after the way that customer treated him, maybe it put him in a bad mood. No, he didn't really seem irritated. The beautiful jewelry store owner had a weary expression on his face, like he was worried it might rain tomorrow. "Well, he bought it because he wanted it. Gemstones are products, after all. And if he paid the price you set, he must have felt that amethyst was worth at least that much. I don't see the issue." "I don't think that's the whole story. I think the thing he was most taken with wasn't the stone at all." "...But you?" My boss scowled at me, silently ordering me to be quiet. If I was wrong, I wondered what he was getting at? His seemingly endless well of sales talk? Or the relaxing atmosphere of the shop itself? Richard seemed deeply distressed by the whole thing, but nothing was making sense to me. Mr. Takatsuki didn't seem like the kind of person who particularly needed our concern. He liked his job, and sure, he was a little overbearing at times, but he seemed like a fun guy. He definitely came off as a bit impulsive, but there were tons of guys like that at my school, who ran on nothing but vibes and passion.

go figure that seigi’s already coming around on him. the world's sweetest person competition hates to see him coming

"I don't really think you have anything to worry about, but... I think every person who buys gems has their own reasons for doing it and their own reasons for liking them. It probably just put him in a good mood when he put that beautiful stone on, and he'll get over not being able to hire you." "There's only so much a good mood can do. Working in that sort of industry is rough, no matter what country you're in. I don't believe he really meant what he said. The disparity between his words and his actions suggests some kind of cognitive dissonance." "You're reading too much into it. I don't think he was thinking that deeply about anything he said. I thought you said you were used to people making passes at you? Don't worry about it so much." "That's not what I mean. Those who grow intoxicated with beauty far beyond their means are destined to fall to ruin." "Intoxicated with beauty" and "destined to fall to ruin" would probably rank pretty high up there if there were a "phrases I'd love to say some day" ranking. What is he even talking about?

SEIGI YOU ARE SOOOO LAME……. why does this exchange read so shakespearean to me also

I looked at Richard bashfully and explained that I had a crush on this girl and she was my friend at school who loved rocks and was super cute. I explained that, long story short, someone told her that they'd seen me in the Jaguar. The porcelain-faced beauty stared at me as he jabbed his fork into the remaining goldfish jelly, slicing the decorative fish clear in half. Please, I'm begging you, just get it over with. "So, uh, I was wondering... I have my driver's license. I drive my mom's car all the time, and I've never been in an accident or pulled over." "That's an impressive record for someone who seems like he'd be constantly distracted behind the wheel. Fascinating story."

SOOOOO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!!

"Don't assume the worst about me! I believe in safety first. I'm especially careful to check for children or elderly pedestrians, I yield to vehicles behind me, and I'll even drive below the speed limit just in case something happens. I don't get mad or panic if I hear someone honk at me from behind, either." I'd be in trouble if someone asked me to floor it, but I was confident in my safe driving skills. I was such a safe driver that when I drove my mom to work when she had a cold, she praised me saying, "I think you drove almost too safe." For some reason, she didn't let me drive very much after that, though. Richard smiled sweetly. He was like a jewel sitting in direct sunlight. I got my hopes up for a positive response. "They're about five million used, from what I understand." "What?" "Jaguars. I hope the drive is worth it." Um, that's not what I meant. I was hoping you'd understand that I was asking to borrow yours—is what I nearly said before I gave up. Richard skewered both pieces of the jelly with his fork and ate them in one bite. How brutal. This was bad. He had a terrifying aura about him. He had this look in his eyes like if I opened my mouth now, he'd say he'd kill me. Richard probably hated talking about personal stuff during work. I guess I should have known after how he reacted to me showing up hungover. "My mind is exhausted from speaking so much of my non-native language. Tea." "Yessir, I'll be right back." "But first, where's my change?" "...It was only 40 yen." "Change."

wrote here ENFADOSO!!!!! you are an ANNOYING MAN!!!!!!!! and it's . sooo fucking funny. bitch4bitch I can't take you two ANYWHERE

I guess no matter how casual the workplace, bosses are still bosses and employees are still employees. I mean, this wasn't a host club, and I'd never been chewed out by my boss, but I supposed expecting him to be so lenient that I could get away with not following instructions was out of the question. I had to get my act together.

- things to say when you will not be getting your act together

The following Friday, I was dragged along to go drinking with some college friends. We ended up in the same bar in Roppongi as last week. One of the older guys in my prep class was very eager to invite me. I thought the professor would be coming, but that wasn't the case at all—even the guy who invited me ended up not being able to make it. It ended up being a peculiar party made up of just six second year students. There were no girls in the class to begin with, so there wasn't even that to look forward to. It was a trendy bar, but not the kind of place a bunch of single guys could really relax. The interior design was so overdone, all form over function. The prices were middling, and there wasn't much in the way of food. After two hours of partying, things were starting to drag. "That reminds me, Seigi, you quit your weekend shifts. I hardly see you at all these days, man." "Yeah, I started another part-time job." "What kind of job?" I knew if I answered honestly, saying I worked at a jewelry store mostly serving tea, it would turn into a Q&A session since everyone was bored and didn't have anything else to talk about. What should I say instead, though? That I was handing out flyers? No, that wouldn't be believable. I'd be getting paid more working the night shift than that. "Uh, um… I'm in the hospitality industry."

nice answer that doesn’t invite questions, dummy

"Oh, are we doing twenty questions? Are you a host?" "Seriously?! How much does it pay? What's the place like?" "No hostesses there? Are there any hotties? Like among your customers?" "You're gonna destroy your liver working a job like that. That shit is seriously rough." I guess the Q&A session was unavoidable after all. I was an idiot for trying to lie about it. Convincing them they were wrong was going to be a pain. I visualized the fictitious club. The owner was a foreigner, and I served drinks. We got a lot of customers from overseas and the prices were reasonable. Honestly, it wasn't that far off the mark. I mostly told them the truth—other than the fact that it was a jewelry shop—and my drunk classmates listened intently. I got a little carried away and started speaking triumphantly about how attractive my boss was—the blond-haired blue-eyed polyglot who was possessed of such overwhelming beauty that it was hard to believe that such a living creature even existed. The atmosphere changed when I got to that topic. They were all staring at me for some reason. "...So you're, like, alone with this boss of yours in the shop?" "Whoa, that's sick. What do you two get up to when there are no customers around?" "What do you mean, what do we get up to? I make drinks, clean, and run errands. Stuff like that." When they asked me how I'd gotten the job, I told them that I'd saved my now boss from some drunks on the street one night. The moment I mentioned that, the dull atmosphere did a total 180. My drunk classmates openly scowled at me and started hurling insults my way. "Dang, dude, you really... Nah, no way." "What? I don't understand." “It’s like she got handed to you on a silver platter. Let me switch places with you!” "Just hurry up and get dumped and have your dreams crushed so you can go cry alone in your room." "Wait, wait, wait, wait!" For some reason they didn't believe me when I clarified that my boss was a man. It was so unfair. I wasn't lying. They kept insisting that because I said he was attractive, I must have feelings for him. It made no sense. Why did I have to be in love with someone just because I thought they're beautiful?

seigi you are truly one of a kind. god bless. also I’m sure a number of you out there can make something of this if you put your mind to it

"I mean it's not like there's just one type of beauty! It's like Mt. Fuji on New Year's Day, or the sun setting over the horizon, that kind of beauty! It's like one of those things accidentally took human form by some twist of fate. Dating isn't even a question for the kind of thing I'm talking about." "What the hell is a hottie like Mt. Fuji? You're not making any sense." "What, is your boss some kind of literal angel?" "Yeah right."

closest they got and they call it off. you guys are hopeless By the way women aren’t objects guys. not cool.

The whole thing was torture, but I guessed I got what I deserved for making up an elaborate story when I wasn't a good liar to begin with. I just stopped caring, cut out early, and went home. My friend, Shimomura, said he'd walk me to the station. I tried to lose him when we left the club, but he stopped me with an "um, so..." and an awkward look on his face. "I know you probably don't know this, but the guy from our cram class who invited us here owns this club." "What?" "He wanted to be his own boss, so he got into the food services industry, but it's still not turning a profit. Seems like he's friends with the third years, so he's been using us as fodder." Now it all made sense. That was why he specifically took us to Roppongi, of all places. There was supposedly a pretty strong business focus in that prep class, so it made sense that the older students might be starting up on their own. He must've been losing money. I told him I didn't know and thanked him, and Shimomura gave a strained smile. "You know, I think I kinda get what you were talking about earlier. I know it's dumb, but I love getting to see Tokyo Tower out the window of the Yamanote Line so much I could just die. The view from around Hamamatsucho Station is the best—it's that angle right across from the JOQR building. You only get to see it for the second because the train's moving, but it's incredible around sunset. Just a taste of that view recharges my batteries even when I'm exhausted. I think that's the kind of beauty you were talking about, right?"

SHIMOMURA ❤️ OUR FRIEND SHIMOMURA ❤️

"Yes. Yes, that's what I was talking about. That's exactly what I was talking about." I felt like my head might come off from nodding so much. Shimomura's face crumpled into a smile that seemed like a 50/50 mixture of happiness and discomfort. "That sorta thing is so hard to talk about." "…I wish you could've said that back at the club. Also, there's nothing dumb about it." "You think so? I took a girl on the train at my favorite time during a first date and told her to look when we got to the spot, but it just confused her. Just a 'Huh? What?' and that was it. I guess not everyone has the same idea of what's beautiful." "Well, I'm one hundred percent positive you'd be bowled over if you met my boss. I guarantee it." "I'm just glad you're happy."

"Not going home yet?" "I'll hang out until the last train. I don't have any reason to go home really. See ya." The night had ended without me clearing up much of anything with the guys, but I thought I got through to Shimomura and that was good enough for me. I knew exactly what he meant when he said that not everyone had the same idea of what was beautiful. There were as many models of beauty as there were people in the world. There was nothing you could be entirely certain that every single person would find "beautiful." At least, that made sense to me. Though I wasn't sure I'd make the leap from that to the idea that you think something's beautiful just because of love. I didn't think love and beauty were the same at all. Sure, there could be things you loved because they're beautiful and things you thought were beautiful because you loved them, but I didn't think they were the same. [...]

this is a gun I'm realizing. I'll just take the bullet wound for now so we can keep it moving

[...] If I was going to take a stance on anything from now on, it's that. My feelings for Tanimoto were wholly unique. I couldn't compare them to my feelings for anyone or anything else. I wondered when I'd be able to muster the courage to tell her I was in love with her and wanted to go out with her? Maybe she'd tell me she loved me, too, with that adorable smile on her face. Well, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I had to deal with the sports car thing first. What was I supposed to do? I wished I could find a clever way to tell her I didn't actually own the car without disappointing her. I wanted to find a way to make a grand comeback and turn my mistake into an opportunity. The voice in the back of my mind betrayed me though, vividly reminding me that it wouldn't work and that I should just give up already. I guessed people kind of got drunk on love and flip-flopped between visions of heaven and hell. My thoughts kept racing to either extreme. What if it made her hate me and she wouldn’t text me anymore, let alone talk to me? No, I just needed a good opportunity to take her on a rock-themed date or something. But what kind of date would that even be? Going out somewhere with hammers to mine rocks?

My more immediate concern was that I still couldn't move my leg, buried in trash bags. They seemed suspiciously heavy. I strained my eyes in the dark to see what it was. In the pile of trash beneath my feet, atop the transparent bags of trash, was... ...a person. "Wah!" They'd fallen over, splayed out flat on their face. And they weren't moving. Surely, they were just asleep, right? Just in case, I timidly touched the person's throat with my hand and felt a pulse. But they were very warm. "Are you okay? I can call an ambulance," I said loudly, but their response was slow. The person just groaned. They were wearing a grey button-down shirt and a vest made of a shiny black material. And they stank of booze. "Do you remember your name? How old are you?" “...Satoshiii Takatsuki. I'm twenty-seveeeen." Satoshi Takatsuki? Wait. That Satoshi Takatsuki? His body slid off the pile of trash bags and did a half tumble on his way down, landing on his butt as he hit the ground. He was positioned like an awkwardly sat up teddy bear, his face was red, and he was barely conscious. I lifted up his chin a bit to get a better look at his face. He was burning up. It was dark, so I could barely make out his features, but I knew this wasn't good. I used the telephone pole to confirm the street we were on, called an ambulance, and ran to the red-light district. I feel like this has been a recurring theme in my life lately. I asked the women for help with someone who'd passed out. They reacted quickly, like this was a common occurrence for them. Three people from separate shops came to help, but none of them knew who he was or where he worked. I told them his name was Takatsuki, but it didn't help. Before long, one of them headed back to their shop and returned with a pitcher full of water. Sirens and flashing lights approached while he was still vaguely conscious. Mr. Takatsuki groaned, and his head flopped over. I noticed something glittering around his neck. It was a gemstone. It was an amethyst pendant set in gold and dangling off a delicate golden chain. Two helmet-wearing EMTs came out of the ambulance, asking if anyone knew the man. It was becoming a bit of a scene, and people in suits and dresses started emerging from the other shops. I timidly responded. "…His name is Satoshi Takatsuki, and he says he's 27 years old." One of the EMTs kept calling his name. I looked around, but no one else responded. Even when another call went out for anyone that might know him, people just exchanged confused glances amongst themselves. I had an awful feeling about letting them take him off to the hospital alone. "I'll go with you." "What's your relation to the man?" “...He's one of our clients." "Are you sure you want to do this?" I nodded. I wasn't lying, either. I'd gotten a good look at his face when they laid him out on the stretcher. It really was him. His arms and legs flapped about, and he began shouting the name "Nozomi" over and over. I sent off a text just before I got into the ambulance. It was nearly midnight, but I figured he'd still be up. My boss, that was.

seeeeiiiiiigiiiiiiiiiiii…………….. you're too good....... and awfully confident about richard here. What would you do if he actually kept regular hours

The sliding door opened up, revealing a four-bed room. The morning light was blinding as it poured in through the windows. White frame beds sat atop the featureless cream floor. Only one of the four beds was occupied, by a tan man in hospital pajamas. "Hey." I gave a cheerful greeting, and Satoshi opened his eyes before crumpling back into bed, bitter expression on his face. "Oh, it's you... Um, what was your name again?" "Seigi Nakata. You really gave me a scare last night. Are you okay now?" "Well, as you can see, I'm not dead. When I woke up, they told me a young man who described me as a 'customer' came with me and waited until I was out of the woods. I couldn't figure out what shop it coulda been for the life of me... Um... What the hell were you doin' out there anyway? Also, it's Saturday, isn't it? Shouldn't you be working in Ginza right now?" "My boss let me come in late today. Trust me, I'm more shocked about that than anyone." "...You know, I never wanted to be the kind of old man who makes kids take care of him."

WHO SAID YOU’RE OLD!!!!!!!! sweet thing to say though, Averagely Aged Man

I sat down next to his bed, and Satoshi gave a defeated shrug. "You probably figured it out already, but I'm not actually a host." Satoshi began to tell his story in bits and pieces. His amethyst pendant was strewn on the table next to a cup of water. It looked much duller than it had when it was back at the shop. But maybe it was just the hospital's fluorescent lighting not doing it any favors. Satoshi explained that he was a bartender at a club in Roppongi. It was primarily a hostess club, not a host club. He said he didn't have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol, "just an average one." Two glasses of wine would have him dizzy and forgetting things, almost like he'd been drugged. […]

categorically Not an average tolerance for alcohol but sure

[…] But despite that, it was a point of pride for him that he had a very thorough understanding of the flavor of each alcohol. His family ran a vineyard in the mountains of Nagano. He described it as "painfully out in the boonies," in a hushed, embarrassed voice.

Nozomi was more of the bubbly, cutesy type of hostess. She overflowed with powerful customer service energy. She was the type of person who couldn't say "no" when everyone was having fun. She could never bring herself to pressure clients into drinking themselves into oblivion, so she'd offer to drink for them. As a result, despite being two years younger than Satoshi, her gamma-glutamyl transferase levels were already in dangerous territory. "Gamma… what?" "Glutamyl transferase." "I'm surprised you can remember that." "Of course I can, it's about Nozomi," Satoshi said like it was a given. It sounded as though she was like family to him already. "It's not like you can't make money if you don't drink like that, but she likes having fun with her customers, and she can't say no to their suggestions. I did tell her to just stop drinking, for the record." "Guess that didn't really work though, huh?" "You can't survive in the business if you don't drink at all. Honestly, if I really wanted to stop her, I'd have to get her to quit her job. But we're barely scraping by with both our earnings right now. I know tons of kids your age who want to work part-time in the biz, but it's really not a great line of work. Your liver can't hold out forever." "But when you came to our shop, you were putting on this whole influential host act." “……” He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Are you okay?" “…Nozomi's gotten obsessed with a host lately. That's where all her money's going—to supporting him." I let out a little "huh?" and Satoshi gave me a dubious look. The tone of his grumbling made it sound like it was nothing out of the ordinary, but the subject matter didn't seem to mesh with that. His girlfriend was seeing a host? "But you're still together...?" "Yeah... I'd be mad if she was dating another man, but hosts are kinda like idols. When they're on the clock, they might technically be men, but they're not 'real,' in a way. I dunno if that makes any sense to you, though. It's just like how someone being a hostess's number one client doesn't mean they're dating her." That was true, I supposed, but was he really satisfied with that arrangement? I looked at him trying to find an answer in his face, and he just laughed with a ragged expression. I guess not. "Nozomi lives for the night life. I know that. And I know that's why she spends money on that guy. She says that it's fun for her to see him having fun at the club with her money, that it makes her feel accomplished. It just sounds so depressing... but it's depressing for me, too. I mean, who is this host guy anyway? Don't you already have a bartender for a boyfriend? At most, we're talking the difference between a common goldfish and a fancy breed—they're still both goldfish." "I guess that sounds kinda like the difference between Richard and me."

classic comparison to make, thank you seigi. I can always count on you.

"It's torture." Apparently Nozomi had told him that hosts were just "dazzling." This was the guy who told me that regular men only look at hosts with one of two things in their eyes: disgust or jealousy. And that it tended to be jealousy for men who were in love. When his girlfriend essentially told him that he wasn't "dazzling," he made a decision. He would make a change. He would work to become the owner of a host club rather than a lowly bartender. "So you decided to... Wait, are you being serious? That's so reckless." "That's easy for you to say when you have no idea how much a popular host can make in a night. It's absurd. A club or two can get by on one popular guy. That's how this world works. I'm not kidding when I say attractive men can keep the world turning." “…Still, I think it's a pretty crazy idea." He looked a little embarrassed. Of course, I didn't know anything about the industry, but I was a little dubious that success could come so easily. I feel like host clubs would be all over the place if it really was that simple. The most laid-back person in my prep class has to be either me or Shimomura, and I just knew even he'd be a little suspicious if I asked his opinion on this. If a good man was enough to bring customers in, you'd first need to find that man—which was why Satoshi had been walking around Tokyo looking for "dazzling" men. He started pretending to be a host because it was hard to imagine getting a favorable response from people with, "Hi, I'm a bartender, would you like to become a host?" "But I couldn't find the right guy. The young ones would always get nervous at the mere mention of the industry, and when I got a bite, they'd immediately start asking me to lend them money." "Well... I guess that's to be expected..." He had zeroed in on the area around jewelry shops to hunt for host candidates. I think his theory that men going to buy jewelry either were hosts or would be interested in becoming one was pretty off the mark, but regardless, his dedication to getting something done when he put his mind to it was impressive. At any rate, he would loiter near jewelry shops and approach men going into or coming out of them. Whenever the employees chased him off, he'd move to another store. Just listening to the story was starting to get painful. After failing more times than he could count, Satoshi found himself meandering around the shops on the outskirts of Ginza. That was when he saw something that hit him like a bolt of lightning. Richard. "I was so shocked. A man who looked like he'd stepped right out of a classic Hollywood film was standing there, talking to a shop owner in fluent Japanese. I heard them chatting about how the sponge cake at that cafe over there was delicious and how he wishes the public bath nearby offered laundry services, too, and so on. […]

typical richard points of discussion. typical thing for him to do.

[…] After he left, I asked the shop owner about him and was told he owned a new jewelry shop in the area. I thought it must be fate. I mean, seriously, if anyone's born to be a host, it's him. Honestly, why is he in the jewelry business? He could make a living off that face alone." "I'm not sure he'd appreciate it if you told him that." "I'm being serious though." Put it the wrong way, and "you have a nice face" can sound like it comes with an implicit, "and it's the only aspect of you that has any value." Of course, Richard's looks were definitely extraordinary, and I didn't doubt he'd have at least the same power to attract guests that the pandas at Ueno Zoo[—”]

SEIGI.

[“—]did. But it wasn't like he just stumbled into being an Englishman with perfect Japanese running jewelry shop by no effort of his own. "...I mean, he came all the way from Europe to Japan to open a jewelry shop. I think he has a pretty good reason to be doing that." "Like what?" "I don't know, but maybe he just loves what he does?" He went silent. I wondered why. He had a weird expression, like he'd seen the straight ball I threw him coming but still took it to the face, and hard. I casually made the comment that if Richard wanted an easy life, he could probably go anywhere and have an affair with a member of some royal family, and Satoshi flashed a big, toothy host smile. It reminded me a bit of Shimomura's smile when he saw me off from the bar the other day—thirty percent happiness, seventy percent bitterness, and full of resignation. "What I wanna say is, he could just work for me, then." "All right, let's say you did get him on board. What was your plan after that?" "I decided I'd just go with the flow and figure it out from there. As far as the money goes, I could just get a loan. I think even if I confessed that I was really just a bartender, as long as I got a location rented, I could make it work somehow." "That's a pretty sorry excuse for a plan. You should probably be glad it failed."

SEIGI.

"You're probably right." This time the smile was closer to eighty percent bitterness. It hardly qualified as a smile anymore. Mr. Takatsuki wiped the sweat from his brow and his moist eyes with his pajama sleeve. "The thing is, I really hate the person I am right now. I love Nozomi, but I can't keep her safe and happy, and I'll never outshine a host. I can't even increase our income. I don't have anything. I've been scraping by, trying not to think about it for so long, but I don't think my body can take any more of this lifestyle. I feel burnt out, like the walls are closing in on me. That's when I found your jewelry shop. I kept thinking to myself, what the hell are you doing, man? Are you just gonna be a good-for-nothing drunk for the rest of your life?" “...So that's what the amethyst was about." "I went in planning to buy something, not really caring what it was. It was a lot less expensive than I thought." Almost exactly a week after he visited Richard's shop, he put on that amethyst pendant and went out. Nozomi had a client that made her drink a ton again that day, and she went into her usual routine. Normally, Satoshi would just watch from his place behind the counter, but for some reason, he just couldn't bear it that night. He put himself in the ring this time, downing all of Nozomi's drinks for her, making merry and drinking even more. The customer clapped for joy at seeing the bartender who usually rarely drank at all cutting loose, and Satoshi just kept drinking and drinking and drinking as long as the customer insisted. When he was starting to have a hard time standing, he slipped out the back of the club. Satoshi forced an awkward smile. Apparently, I had a pretty horrified look on my face. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't actually think legend about the amethyst preventing drunkenness was real. It was completely my fault. You and your boss had nothing to do with it." "That's not why I'm concerned. Do you know how many people die every year of acute alcohol poisoning? It's really not funny. And why did you leave the club like that? That was so dangerous." "I mean, I was drunk. Plus, I didn't want Nozomi to see me make a fool of myself." "You passed out in a pile of garbage."

SEIGI!!!!!!

“...I do remember making it two blocks down the street." He muttered to himself that he was surprised he was still alive and put his hands in mine. "Your name was... Seigi, right? I remember the EMTs saying your name. Thank you. You saved my life. And I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble." "You really don't need to apologize to me. What are you planning to do now?" "I called the club earlier. I got chewed out and fired. Dating the hostesses is against the rules, so Nozomi might be in trouble, too. I'm worried. It doesn't take much to make her cry. She's always bawling at every little thing." "Did you call Nozomi?" "I texted her that I was in the hospital this morning. I figured she'd still be asleep." He smiled without reservation. He smiled again when I gave him a concerned look. It was a defiant smile. The defeat that had colored all his expressions thus far had vanished. "It's so weird. I've done something so stupid, but for some reason I don't regret any of it." I gave him an indignant look, and he put his hands together and apologized profusely. "What am I gonna do now... You know, I think I might try going back to the country. My parents have a vineyard, see. I'm the oldest son, but I kinda shirked my duties. If I help out, surely they'll let even their good-for-nothing son sleep under their roof. Plus, the grapes my old man produces sparkle like gems. They're delicious, to boot." "What about Nozomi?" "You really know how to hit a guy when he's down. I'm a farmer at heart. I'm a totally different breed from a hostess, and our incompatibility couldn't be more obvious now. I'm not good enough for her. And I'm not old fashioned enough to ask her to come with me." "Does that mean you're breaking up with her?" He went quiet and thought for a moment before silently shaking his head. "I can't give up on her. I want her to wait for me. I'm gonna tell her I'll come back to Tokyo someday, so if she can bear it—" "Sounds like you're expecting a lot of patience. How do you know you won't meet someone else while you're in Nagano? Are you sure you don't actually want her to come with you?" "Of course I do! I love her! But it's not that simple." He sounded genuinely mad. I was still a little worried but figured I'd said enough. "Did you hear that? That's how he feels!" I said, half shouting. The door to the room opened without a sound, and a bubbly, cutesy woman tottered in. Her brown hair was a mess, and she had a seasonally inappropriate coat on over her dress. She clutched a pink towel, and her whole face was red from crying. Satoshi shouted, "Nozomi!" "How dumb can you be?! Why are you so stupid?! You can't still be drunk! You big, stupid, useless idiot!" "What are you doing here?" "Oh, shut up, dummy! Obviously, I'm here because I was worried about you!" I left Satoshi in his panic and got up from my seat. Nozomi sat down in my place, wiping her face with the towel while giving Satoshi a couple of gentle smacks across the face. "You almost died! How can you act like barely anything happened... Don't text me when it's something that important, you oaf! Call me! You big, stupid dummy... Maybe you should just go die for real!" "I'm sorry, Nozomi. I'm so sorry." "I can never leave you alone. I guess I have no choice but to go with you," Nozomi said, clutching Satoshi's hands and falling onto the bed in tears. I left the room with a big grin on my face and walked down the hall. I bowed to one of the nurses near the elevator, and she responded in kind.

I know the answer. I know. but Could you two be normal people for a change

Richard checked his watch. It was 10:30 a.m. If we took the Jaguar, we could get back to the store by 11:00 easily. "You could have gone back without me." "And without access to a car, you would be late to work."

no they can’t . what a shock

I'd contacted Richard while I was stuck waiting at the hospital. He was initially in a very bad mood because he'd already gone to bed, but when I explained the situation, he let out a sigh and asked me when visiting hours started. We'd had basically the same idea: I'd go home, get some rest, then meet up in Ginza and take Richard's green Jaguar to the hospital. As we were coming up into the hospital from the underground parking, we ran into a woman who'd arrived by taxi. Her eyes were red, and she had an ostentatious hairstyle that didn't really match her hastily cobbled-together wardrobe. We ended up in the same elevator, got off on the same floor, and were headed in the same direction. When I saw her write the name "Nozomi Kanzaki" in big bubble letters on the guest form, I remembered what Satoshi had been shouting the previous night: Nozomi. I took her aside and asked her if she wouldn't happen to know a Satoshi Takatsuki, and I was right. What little composure she had left dissolved. She broke down crying and told us all the dirty details of Satoshi's rampage the previous night. He barged in on a party, got drunk, and disappeared before anyone realized. He didn't come back by closing time. The owner was furious and fired him on the spot. Nozomi was worried about him, so she went looking for him after closing time, only to find an ambulance had taken a bartender away and was told what hospital they'd taken him to. She cried as she disparaged him. She had no idea why he'd done it. She broke down sobbing, saying that if he was unhappy with something, he should have just talked to her about it, and that she didn't know what to do anymore. And the person who got down on his knees to catch her was none other than my boss. When she saw Richard's face, Nozomi blushed with embarrassment, asking what club he was from again. We had a little meeting on the bench in front of the nurses' station. A sort of strategy meeting. Richard was the ideas man. Nozomi gave the go-ahead, and I was the one assigned to execute it. The plan was simple, really, I'd use my position as the person who saved his life to get him to talk honestly about what was going on. Honestly, I wasn't crazy about the idea in the beginning. I mean, there could be some circumstances behind the whole situation that might be better left unsaid, and Nozomi might get hurt. But Richard looked at me with calm eyes the whole time. We might not have known each other all that long, but—and I know this sounds crazy—I didn't want to do anything that could bring him unhappiness. I almost felt like I couldn't do that to him. I had the feeling that Richard had already gotten a pretty solid read on the situation before he even proposed the plan.

I know this sounds crazy, he says. seigi Did you know? You just said one of the most obvious things in the world to us just now

Nozomi encouraged me, telling me to "give 'im hell!", and I braced myself for what I was about to do. In the end, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. While we were in the elevator, which was big enough to fit a hospital bed, I asked Richard a question. "What exactly was bothering you so much when Mr. Takatsuki left the shop? Don't tell me you knew this would happen."

"You could tell he wasn't really a host though, right?" "Someone who is confident in their profession doesn't go out of their way to boast about it indiscriminately. He had the feeling of a buzzing mosquito, following you everywhere, yet easily charmed by the flame of a candle." "So that's what was going through your head while you were talking about gemstones. Scary..." "Excuse you." Richard pondered it on his own for a bit after that, saying he had the sense that what Satoshi had been after wasn't actually a gemstone. "So what was he after in the end? Maybe it really was a host." "I don't think that's the case. The thing he wanted from the very bottom of his heart wasn't a piece of jewelry but something that would make him feel like it gave him a power-up." "A power-up? Like a magic accessory in a video game?" "It's not magic, but you often hear stories about people who don't normally wear jewelry acting differently when they do. Wearing jewelry makes them more acutely aware of themselves and how others look at them, and they act accordingly. Beautiful gemstones have a unique power to their beauty." "So they can kinda influence people's behavior. Like a fancy stone might make a woman feel compelled to act more elegantly?" "Or it might make her more arrogant or less cautious about spending money." "These all sound like bad things." "Of course, gemstones can have a positive influence on behavior as well. Like an athlete's good luck charm or, on the more extreme end, the way the crown jewels are said to bestow wisdom on their wearer. At any rate, humans are creatures that grow in order to accomplish their own desires. A gemstone might act as a catalyst for action, but they are not the engine—only the heart can provide the fuel for that." “...That sounds kind of scary." "You're absolutely hopeless." Satoshi had had a carefree smile on his face, but if anything had gone differently, he could have died. As the thought of how close to the brink he'd come last night sent a chill down my spine, Richard continued talking. "While I don't dispute that it's up to the individual to determine what they do and where, as a simple lover of gemstones, I would like to do what I can to prevent situations where beautiful stones bring unhappiness to others. Let us be thankful for your extraordinary luck." My shoulders drooped. There couldn't be many part-time jobs that came with so many extra obligations.

okay seigi you need to listen to me closely: there aren't that many extra obligations. you just take them on yourself. you are doing this to yourself. I love you very much also

When the elevator arrived at the first floor, a pajama-clad elderly person and an accompanying younger person were waiting in front of the door. The way Richard startled the moment the door opened was kind of funny. We left the hospital from there. I wondered if Nozomi had stopped crying yet. "You know, I was wondering. I noticed when you explained what the word amethyst comes from meant you said that it meant 'to not become intoxicated by alcohol' and not for 'alcohol not to intoxicate you.' I don't entirely understand what the difference in nuance is, but you seemed very particular about your choice of words there." "Oh, you have an interest in Greek grammar? It's a difference in voice: active vs. passive. And the Greek word happens to be in the passive voice." "Nope, I don't. And even if I were, I'm definitely not that interested!" As we headed toward the door to the underground parking lot, the jeweler gave me a fast-paced lecture. He explained that back in the era when most people believed that gemstones possessed magical powers, people used to believe that amethysts would ward off intoxication, and thus their owners would, "not become intoxicated by alcohol." For however many thousands of years alcohol has existed, people have probably always overindulged and suffered for it. Even if you took Satoshi's story, for example, he acted recklessly because he wanted to protect Nozomi and didn't want her to get drunk. The way they got there was pretty awful, but I guess in the end, everything turned out all right. "Who was that god of wine again? Bacchus? Sounds like a pretty lazy guardian deity to me." "In various tales, Bacchus, also known as Dionysus, is a passionate god who is no stranger to drunkenly barging in on parties. Perhaps, in a sense, you could say he did bless our wayward client." "You should definitely not mention that to him." Richard gave me a look, like he was surprised I was telling him something so obvious. He pushed the button on his key fob when we got to the parking lot. The car made a couple of beeps as it awoke. I decided this might be my best shot. "Ahh, today's been such a lovely day, huh? We saw a love story end well—doesn't it just make you feel good about the world? I gotta hand it to you, your cupid strategy was a total success. I wonder what those two are gonna do next." "You know, I've been thinking this since I was waiting outside the room earlier, but you really are an atrocious actor." "I'm sure that if Tanimoto and I had someone in our corner who was so smart and honorable, then—" "There are those who say that love is a disease of the heart. Let us pray upon the power of the stone that prevents one from becoming intoxicated to swiftly quell your fever. Well, I guess people only tend to think something counts once what's behind the curtain is revealed. I think the moment satiating your vanity becomes your foremost priority, your budding romance has much more significant problems to worry about."

I was pretty sure that even if I passed the civil service exam in one try, I'd never be able to afford a Jaguar. But I wanted to be able to experience this indescribable slow-speed rollercoaster ride with her someday, even just once. I wanted to savor the feeling of our familiar world becoming an unfamiliar space with her. Though maybe she would just go, "Huh? What?" But maybe she would smile at me softly.

We'd stopped next to a hotel with a concert hall attached. I guessed it was a pretty fancy area. I'd never stayed at the hotel or even gone inside, so you might be wondering how I knew about it. Well, it all went back to a rather painful and pathetic moment last Christmas, when I was diligently doing research just in case I ever got a girlfriend.

seigi......... why's THIS the part that makes the chapter topical. you're so LAME!!!!! and SWEET ALSO SOMEHOW. let me throw rocks at you

Thank you. Thank you, past me. If I could go back in time and let you know that your lonely, girlfriendless internet browsing would pay off, I would. I feel like that could have kept you from suffering in vain. The customer that day was a man from the Maldives. He had a cheerful chat with Richard in a language I couldn't even recognize as they ate the tropical mousse I'd bought.

and that concludes this edition of Seigi Sunday on "The Amethyst of Protection". on this Still christmas.* Merry Christmas! and happy holidays!!! That ones not out of date :)

#seigi sundays #the case files of jeweler richard #still a little late but i figure it might still be christmas somewhere #(not a chance) (wrote that a few minutes after midnight)#i just have Sleep when you're tired disease. can't help it #this one's a shorter chapter and its not as hard a hitter as the last one #but it's still dear to me. love is so real and powerful and Sometimes people make stupid reckless decisions for it #and sometimes those decisions land you in the hospital. BUT! you'll have met nakata seigi. this is worth it #also Laying framework for guns down the line is never unimportant. Never forget this #having finished this one now though. Why in the hell did the last one demand so many photos from me. goddamn

6 notes · View notes

edwinspaynes · 10 months ago

Text

Butterflies

A Herondaisy drabble based on @hanelizabeth's beautiful art. Also, @angeldaisies, I think you'll like this one too.

You can read it on Ao3!

---

James dimly recalled Cordelia once telling him that she looked better in deep hues rather than pastels. She could not have been more wrong. James knew that his wife would be beautiful in anything she chose to wear, make the wings of his heart beat heavily until it took off inside of his chest. And now, looking upon her in her newest gown, James felt those wings take flight and lodge in his throat.

He was lost for words. Breathless. Angel, Cordelia was a dream beyond anything he had ever imagined.

She spun around, an impish smile on her face. "So, do you like it? I know it is far from my usual attire, but I rather liked all of the butterflies on the skirt." She paused. "There's just so much... so much whimsy-"

James knew that his golden eyes were smoldering as he took her in. "'Whimsy' is perhaps not the word I would assign to what I am currently feeling," he said, his voice deep and rich. He laughed, a low sound in his moth-addled mouth as the butterflies moved low in his belly. "I am thinking more along the lines of 'beauty' and 'excessively hopeless desire.'"

In an attempt at true whimsy, James waggled his eyebrows, and Cordelia laughed. She strolled up to him, lifted a finger, and poked his nose. "Your expression is truly quite amusing," she informed him lightly. "As though I am some sort of angel come to life, though I assure you that I am having far too much fun teasing my husband to truly be angelic."

Up close her opal earrings winked. They were set in gold, bringing out the glint of the globe necklace that James still remembered being fastened around her neck for the first time. The gold complimented the flame of her hair perfectly, and the blue...

Well, that brought out the sky shade of her gown, and the white accents and butterflies and sash offset her rich brown skin. The curve of a smile graced her lips, and James...

He wove a hand around her waist.

He pulled her in close.

And when their lips met, the butterflies in his throat and stomach became too much to bear. He made a small noise of desire as he trailed his hand up the small of her back to rest at the nape of her hair, the thick red chignon brushing the sides of his hands...

Cordelia pushed him away with a giggle. "Do control yourself," she said. "There shall be plenty of time for that tonight, and I will wear the dress if you want."

"I certainly would not complain," James told her in perhaps too agreeable a tone. "But you're right. As much as it pains me to let go, I would not wish to miss our dinner reservation. You know that I can never say no to duck ala orange, tempting though it may be."

The duck was good, but Cordelia was better.

She sat across from him devouring her lamb chops and parsnips, talking of a ridiculous dinner that she had recently had with Thomas and Alastair at their home in Cornwall Gardens. "I am telling you, Alastair gave me those lemons to mock me," she said. "You know how I find them too sour!"

"Very rude of him," James agreed, though there was no mirth in it. He liked Alastair. "Next time we have him over, we'll find a way to get him back. Perhaps an extra lump of sugar in his tea?"

"Oh, no. Set out blackberry tarts and pretend that there are not enough for him. He will be horribly overset by the time I reveal that there are, in fact, more in the icebox."

James laughed.

Over dessert, he told Cordelia about the time that he had gone to a market in Alsace with his father, an overcast day when the sun shone over dozens of cards filled to the brim with books. "And that was my first experience with a pop-up stalls," he said. "And now they are an eternal part of my existence."

"Oh!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "I remembered something. Next week in Camden there is to be a book fair. I saw a flyer for it at Comb's Coffee."

"Well, we're going. Mark the date," he told her. "And I will, of course, buy you all the books you want."

Cordelia grinned radiantly, and the opals in her ears sparkled. "Sounds like I'll be requiring a handcart," she said.

"And don't worry," James told her. "I'll select the most insufferable-looking bargain romance that I see so we can read it before the fire and laugh at its nonsense all night."

"My favorite kind of sleepless night," Cordelia agreed.

"You mean second favorite," James argued.

"No, actually, I don't." She smiled. "Though, of course, our other activities are a very close second, I very much just enjoy spending time with you."

She is my best friend, James thought unbidden. Absolutely and completely, I am hers.

And when he finally peeled her butterfly dress off after a night of laughter by the fireplace, he did not forget that.

#i think there will be a part 2 of this #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #herondaisy #jordelia

12 notes · View notes

gingerteaonthetardis · 2 years ago

Note

Thinking about that scene in boom town where they all pull out shitty early 2000s mobiles despite the fact jack and nine are time travellers and theres really no need for them to have them except. I'm fully convinced they bought them to keep in contact with rose when she's being jeopardy friendly

Anyway. So nine has his boom town phone ten has the flip phone Martha gave him and maybe rose (in a rose stays au) has the same phone or she keeps getting the same phone because it's what she's used to do and she does not want to update, she doesn't care what these new phones can do. But then the old companions are trying to set up a group chat so she finally relents

But they're time streams are so often out of sync that they still don't hear from the time travellers all that often and they start to wonder if they're dead or something but then they'll get a message from rose like 'cant talk right now we're being held in a dungeon again and about to get tortured for information. See you Sunday when we get out of here :)' and it's always some insane shit like that. I don't where I'm going with this but I think the companions should be allowed to share their insane lives with each other with the doctor and rose occasionally popping in to give updated before disappearing again because they had to reset the timeline again

i sat here and just nodded the whole time, you're so right on every count.

- jack and nine having special rose phones!!!! are you for real!!!! yes!!!

- also nine has, like. three numbers on speed dial. one is rose and the other is a pizza place that closed in 1983 and never reopened. the third number is cher, but he does not know that because he's never called it

- i think rose would only upgrade when a) yes, the gang beg her to join the groupchat but also b) she discovers that getting an iphone or whatever doesn't mean you have to give up all your cutesy nokia phone charm whimsy!!!! she goes to some random market and sees a stand selling the most extra phone accessories imaginable. pop sockets with aj mclean's face on them. glitter gel cases. stickers that squish when you press them. cases shaped like burgers and unicorns and stuff. like, she can truly just get whatever she wants and that's what ultimately sells her on the upgrade. (i firmly believe bill is the one helping her with this. to her chagrin)

- rose being the most unhinged in the groupchat also tracks to me. she'll on the one hand be like hey martha, can you ask your mum for her roast recipe? but then she'll follow immediately with btw can't make it to dinner, we're currently on a sinking ship in kublai khan's fleet and martha is just like..... *sigh* *flips through recipe cards*

- rose and jack have a complex and inscrutable shared emoji language. i don't make the rules

- unlike david tennant, nine knows what the eggplant emoji means and he uses it indiscriminately and with extreme prejudice

#nerdie faerie #abbey.txt #dw #rose tyler #ninth doctor #martha jones #bill potts #captain jack harkness

64 notes · View notes

ideas-on-paper · 11 months ago

Text

Lies of P - No Specter Challenge Results

It's been a while since I finished Lies of P, and I'm already on my first NG+ right now, but I thought it would be fun to take a retrospective look at the results of the No Specter Challenge I had running during my live playthrough of it.

Since I streamed my complete first playthrough of Lies of P, I still have the recordings of the boss fights I did live on camera. The breaks during my streams have been subtracted from the times, however, since I had to take those from the edited episodes (the breaks were usually about 10 - 15 minutes).

More information and backstory under the cut 🔽

My Lies of P No Specter Challenge was something that I originally started out of a whimsy. When I got to the Scrapped Watchman (who really gave me a hard time during the demo), I did a voting on my Mastodon account, saying "Hey, would anyone like to see me trying myself at the Scrapped Watchman without Specter? Y'know, for the extra challenge?"

Of course, everybody voted "yes" (probably expecting to see me gloriously fail), and I said "You know what? I'm going to set 2 hours as a limit, so let's see if I can beat him in that time."

It was, as I expected, a fierce struggle, but about an hour into the stream, I actually managed to beat him - with one millimeter of health left, three perfect blocks just at the right moment, and a final blow just before the lightning got me. Needless to say, I was beyond myself with happiness and relief.

Later, when I was about to fight Fuoco, I did the same voting again, this time (curiously) with the result that I should fight him with Specter. However, my stream crashed at some point without my knowledge, so I not only had to re-do the boss fight, but all my game progress up until this point. (I made a habit of regularly copying my saves on a USB stick since then.)

Nevertheless, despite winning the battle against Fuoco, it almost felt too easy with Specter support. So when I re-recorded the fight, I said "You know what, I feel like I can do this without Specter, so let's give it a try." And I succeeded, at my second attempt even! (I almost got him the first time, just took a bit of an unlucky hit at the end.)

From there on, I decided I would try myself at all the bosses without Specter for my own fun (and kind of regretted it when encountering Andreus). I'm pretty proud that I managed to do almost every boss solo, with the exception of Romeo. (Unfortunately, it seems I blew all of my luck on the White Lady beforehand, whom I defeated first try - weapon break included!)

After Romeo, I also introduced a rule allowing me to use a guide after one hour if I can't beat the boss for whatever reason (frankly, the biggest problem for me was how to deal with Romeo's inferno combo). This rule really helped me out later with Laxasia, who also has what I call "bullshit combos" you can only counter with very specific tactics or items.

Other than that, I actually did all of the boss fights in the game with one and the same weapon: the Wintry Rapier handle + various upgraded versions of the Greatsword of Fate blade. (I started out with the Rapier and a Technique build, and I've been using the combo with the Greatsword blade ever since the Scrapped Watchman.) It may not be the fanciest weapon combo skill-wise, but it does really good raw damage. I did briefly use special weapons during some battles - like Etiquette for my first few tries against Andreus and the Puppet Ripper for the Green Monster - but these didn't really do much to help me (in fact, it almost ended up losing me the fight against Andreus, since the raw damage of Etiquette is really lackluster).

So, I essentially took on all bosses in the game solo, with no special weapons, no special amulets (since these were always too heavy for me to wear), just with my good old trusty standard weapon and my more or less fixed combination of amulets. (Life/Blue Guardianship Amulet, Patience/Leaping Amulet, Recharged Amulet and an amulet for bonus damage depending on the type of enemy.) And from my experience, it's absolutely doable.

As far as explanations go, I think this should suffice for now. However, if there's anything else you'd like to know, like tips for a specific boss, feel free to leave me a comment. I'm open for Q&A. :-)

#lies of p #lies of p bosses #no specter challenge #soulslike #soulslike bosses #boss fight #I'm probably the only person on the planet who likes the boss fights in LoP better without Specters xD

6 notes · View notes

brothershardy · 1 year ago

Text

Now that things had been finally settled, Joe could enjoy the start of the holidays, and Hogwarts was at it's most crowded. Snow had fallen thickly on the ground, making the Beauxbatons carriage look like a giant blue frosted cake, and he could only imagine how the Durmstrang students were handling their ship, now frozen in so close to the shoreline of the Lake. But considering where they came from, this was probably mild weather for them.

Ron did manage to ask Padma, having lost some of his grumpiness, and Padma graciously accepted, as she must have been warned by Parvati ahead of time. But the girls rushed off together to plan their outfits, and Joe finally was able to convince Ron to give him the redhead's dress robes to try and fix them.

"Do you even know how to handle it?" Ron asked as he handed over the offending garments.

"One of my absolute best friends is a fashionista," Joe assured him. "I learned from the best. Now, I just need some scissors, some thread and a few needles, and no one to fucking bother me for a few hours, or I'm gonna get distracted."

Emboldened by this, Ron was able to convince the other Gryffindors to give Joe a corner of the common room to himself, but that didn't stop many from stopping and watching him as he worked, tearing off the lace and cutting some of the frayed endings, before he started in one some extra measuring, adding cloth, and some new golden thread points. He started in the morning, and by that evening, after only a few bathroom and food breaks, he had a set of robes that looked incredibly stylish and revamped from their original era.

"Wow!" Ron accepted them with awe in his eyes. "They look brand new!"

"I knew my cosplaying days would work out," Joe said with pride. "And I even lengthened them so that your ankles aren't showing. You're welcome, thee of little faith."

(*)

Christmas Day was when things got exciting. For one thing, Dobby gifted socks to everyone in the boys' dormitory, even though none of them matched, which just added to the whimsy. He got a good portion of presents from everyone, and the presents he gave to Harry and Ron -- individualized bags of their favorite sweets and a certificate to Zonko's respectively -- were also appreciated.

Breakfast in the Great Hall was wonderful, as per usual, before they spent a good morning in the common room enjoying and swapping presents. Joe's Christmas sweater from Molly was a beautiful rose red with a golden dragon on the front, and he, with the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry, took a selfie to send back to her to let her know that her sweaters were always loved.

Lunch was a wonderful feast to celebrate the holiday, with lots of ham and turkey, and various knickknacks scattered around the tables. Joe and Ginny pulled a few crackers for the prizes inside, one of them including a rather gorgeous wizard's hat of old. Then they all ran outside for a few hours of snowball fights and sledding, before Hermione mentioned it was time to start getting ready for the Ball.

The other boys, once dressed, were more awkward and self conscious than one would think. Joe was the only one really primping in the mirror, working on his curls and even adding a bit of makeup to hide a few red spots. Once he was ready, he headed off with Ron and Harry, until they reached the Great Hall, where it was already packed with various students in their best outfits.

"Hello boys!" Parvati and Padma were at the bottom of the staircase, both dressed in identical dresses -- Parvati in shocking hot pink and Padma in a beautiful teal shade -- with their hair braided in gold and bangles on their wrists.

"You look quite dashing," Padma complimented Ron, who blushed a little.

"Hello Joe!" Luna came drifting over, in the fluffiest periwinkle blue gown he'd ever seen. Little silver stars had been sprinkled in her hair, and she had large silver earrings shaped like ornaments; overall, she made for a pretty image, and she smiled serenely as she joined them. "Professor McGonagall needs us to stay by the doors so that we greet everyone as they go inside."

"Sure thing," Joe said, offering her his arm, and she accepted it. "See ya guys. And remember, be gentlemen. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Harry had absolutely no idea why, but for some reason it caused him a feeling of relief to know that Joe was taking someone nice, and…platonic. That he cut Hermione’s smirk off at the knees, asserting that he’d asked Luna as a friend, made Harry grin even though he didn’t know what he was happy about. Joe was matter-of-fact on such things, if he was interested, he’d say so.

As for poor Ron, his mortification over the flub with Fleur was more than relatable. Joe’s report of her bloodline had them all raising brows, and Hermione nodded knowingly. “That makes sense, and explains a lot. I mean, she is lovely, but it felt rather supernatural. How’d you learn that?” she asked Joe with interest.

Harry shook his head at Joe, and gave Hermione a wry look for correctly interpreting. “I was walking over to, but she was with some friends and one of them asked about the colors they’re wearing. I mean, I reckon she’d have been kind about it, she is sweet that way, but I’m glad I didn’t have to go through the fluster.”

And, well, if he had to be too late to ask the pretty Ravenclaw…at least Cedric was someone he could admire. They did make a rather handsome pair.

He was surprised to hear about Draco and Hermione, and joined Ginny in grinning at her. “Well, well, now. I’m proud of him for getting right on that, sounds like he knew what he wanted.” Hermione smacked his arm, but Harry kept laughing, glad that for once they could tease her over something fun and lighthearted.

Hearing that he’d been a rubbish date to Parvati, or her sister, made Harry wince. “….another opportunity to be damned glad you’re here,” he sighed. “I’m finding all of this to be nonsense, but yes, I’d regret being a prat for no good reason.” Harry rubbed his forehead. “This ball’s more trouble than it’s worth, if you ask me.”

As if on cue from Joe’s words, Lavender and Parvati were coming in through the portrait hole, and Harry straightened his shoulders. Why not. “Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?”

Parvati went into a fit of giggles, which Harry neither understood nor wanted to understand. “Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously. Harry desperately hoped Joe wasn’t misled by his world’s books, and that Harry hadn’t just sparked some later drama over an unreturned crush.

“Thanks,” he said, aiming for polite. “Um, and it’s weird to ask, but Ron’s still stag–does your sister have a date? I’d ask you, but I know Seamus did,” he added to Lavender, who looked flattered that this was public knowledge.

“I can ask Padma, sure,” Parvati confirmed, giving Ron a sidelong look. “Though he ought to, you know.”

“He’s a bit out of sorts, but I’ll tell him to,” Harry offered, sparing Ron by not explaining the whole Fleur debacle. “Really, though, thank you. I don’t mind the idea of going alone, but it seems all our close friends aren’t, and I’d just prefer a big group fun thing, you know?” There, wording it so it was clear it was platonic.

“Ooh, right, I heard about Malfoy asking Granger,” Lavender said keenly. “Is that a thing? What a twist, coming from a family like his.”

“I’m going to stay out of that,” Harry replied, snorting, and he parted from the girls as they burst into giggles again, heading back to the others. “Done, and Ron, shake it off. Joe’s right, we need to be nice, so actually ask Padma. Just–you know, ‘want to go as friends?’ kind of thing.”

“Well, that worked out tidily,” Hermione said, smiling as she sat down. “And we’re going to have fun! Gin, can Luna dance? Joe’s got ballet experience, I assume he can lead just fine if not.”

#blackcurlsgreeneyes #v; like fire and powder

108 notes · View notes

bourbonbees · 3 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 6- Cemetery Boys

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34336042

Rating- G Jack POV

Jack has discovered there are a great deal of things that he loves about being human, he loves eating cake, taking his dog for walks, and swimming, but there’s nothing he loves more than his family. His family is not conventional, he’s got three dads, one of which is an angel, but all of them love him unconditionally. It’s rocky at first with Dean but after some quality time spent listening to Zep and going fishing together, the grumpy hunter warms up to him. It also doesn’t hurt that Jack’s first dad, Castiel, is also Dean’s partner and therefore holds a lot of sway over him, whether he likes it or not. Sam, his third dad was the best! He’s the one that establishes family movie night, Jack’s favorite night of the week!

Sam lets Jack pick the movies pretty much every week, much to Dean’s dismay. This week Jack chooses Ghostbusters as his pick. It’s great, he especially loves the jokes and the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man. He isn’t sure where the writers did their research for the movie though, his experiences with ghosts contain a lot less whimsy and a lot more salting and burning. The movie is just wrapping up when it hits him, they don’t have a name, every great team of heroes has a name.

“Hey, why don’t we have a name?” Jack poses the question, looking to Dean for a response.

“Kid, how much candy have you had? Are you sugar crashing? Remember, me Dean, you Jack, that annoying guy over there, Sam, this adorable ray of sunshine, Castiel.” Dean is concerned, he feels Jack’s forehead and looks him over, his parental instincts kicking in.

“No like a team name! Like there’s The Avengers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, uh The Fellowship of the Ring.” Jack lists off, Sam sending him a proud smile at the last one.

“Jack, hunters don’t really do teams. We’re kinda solitary, it’s our nature.” Sam explains, causing Jack even further confusion as he looks around at his family. They do everything together, live together, celebrate wins together, spend holidays together, work together, is that not a team?

“We’re not a team? Isn’t a family a team?” Jack frowns, worrying that he’s misread a long series of social cues. He is prone to that sometimes, his brain working a bit differently from his dads, neurodivergent, that’s what Sam had called it.

“Jack, oh, of course we’re a team. But more than that, we’re family.” Cas swoops in, reaching over and patting Jack on the shoulder. Cas is always the gentlest of his dads, he gives really good hugs, and is the one Jack goes to on the days where being a human is too much to deal with.

“Would it make you feel better if we had a team name?” Dean offers, following Cas’ lead. Jack doesn’t miss when Cas sends Dean a small nod of approval. Dean has a different parenting approach, sometimes he’s a bit harder on Jack. Jack doesn’t like that but he understands that Dean is trying.

“Yeah, I was thinking Cemetery Boys!” Jack says right away, looking around the room expectantly. Sam chokes slightly on his beer while Cas smiles approvingly, Dean laughs softly, shaking his head at Jack.

“Well we do spend a disproportionate amount of time in cemeteries, so it makes sense to me.” Jack defends, his cheeks feeling hot, blushing, that’s what Sam had told him it was. Sometimes Jack hates being human, blushing is embarrassing and makes him feel a bit like a baby.

“Shouldn’t we be cemetery men?” Dean questions, raising a quizzical brow at Jack.

“Technically speaking, Jack and myself are neither male nor female. So, no.” Cas supplies, shrugging his shoulders at Dean and earning an eye roll. Jack doesn’t understand why his dads enjoy teasing each other so much, maybe annoying someone was another human way to express love?

“So, you’re telling me, I came out as bisexual for nothing because, I’m not really dating a man?” Dean blanches, gently smacking Cas on the shoulder. Hitting people is another love language Jack has learned, but not too hard, he learned that after accidently punching Sam a little too enthusiastically on the shoulder. Play fighting is good, actual violence is bad, he had explained that to him.

“We’re non-binary! Claire taught me that.” Jack is happy to interrupt, always happy to share the latest things he’d learned. He loves Claire for that reason, she’s always full of new things to learn, she is an excellent big sister. “Claire, Me, Cas, and Dean, we’re all LGBLT? Or is it LGBTQ? Either way, Claire is a lesbian, she also taught me that. And Dean, you’re a bisexual! Cas, you’re gay, I think? So, you didn’t come out for nothing, you came out for your non-binary partner.” Ha! Jack is very proud, this is one area he feels confident he knows more about than Sam, Dean, or even Cas.

“You’re surprisingly well informed for a toddler.” Sam compliments, tipping his beer bottle at him.

“The toddler age range ends at 3, I assure you, Jack is 4. He is no longer a toddler. I read all the development books.” Cas corrects, earning a laugh from Dean and a groan from Sam.

“He did, trust me Sammy, made me read some of them as well. Babies are weird man. Glad you came out fully formed kid, it was a relief.” Dean chuckles. Jack is relieved he came out fully formed too, it’s a lot more fun hanging out with his family when he can talk to them like this.

“I’m a celestial being, age doesn’t exist for me. I am as old or as young as I want to be at any given minute. Isn’t that neat?” Jack prides himself on choosing this form, a teenage body, he likes it because he can help his family. He likes going hunting, driving cars, and helping Dean cook dinner, a baby couldn’t do any of that!

“He really is your son-uh I mean they really are your child?” Dean self corrects, Jack notices he does that a lot more lately, again he really is trying to be better. Jack admires that about Dean, it’s something he tries to emulate as best as he can, always working to be a better person and make his mistakes right.

“Oh, I’m comfortable with he/they, just like my dad! I do feel like a boy most of the time.” Jack looks to Cas who nods along with him. They’d talked about it once, Cas explained that Jack could change a number of things about himself if he wished, if it would better match his soul. But Jack is really and truly happy with who he is. So is Cas.

“Yeah that’s my son.” Cas says fondly, pulling Jack into a hug. This is a good hug, the kind that makes Jack feel safe and cared for. Cas always makes him feel like he belongs, that no matter what he has a place in his arms.

That night, Jack sets a plan into motion. He waits until everyone is asleep and gets to work on creating gifts for his family. He uses his powers to manifest a set of matching black crew neck sweatshirts with the words ‘Cemetery Boys’ embroidered on the front in white thread. He then designs a magnet, putting a little ghost and tombstone on it. Once he’s satisfied he goes through the recycling and finds a box to put the sweatshirts in.

The next part is the most dangerous. Jack, creeps down the hall to the door that leads into the garage attached to the bunker. His eyes glimmer when he finds his target, the black 67 Impala, sitting dead center in the garage. Dean had just waxed her the day before so she was extra shiny. Jack likes when Baby is shiny, it makes the sun reflect on his face, nice and warm. He takes the magnet and carefully places it on the bumper, making sure not to scuff or scratch the shiny metal. Then in a flash, he is back in his room, laying in his bed as if nothing has happened.

Dean doesn’t notice the magnet until they are packing for a hunt the next day, a simple salt and burn case in Wisconsin. The whole family is going! Dean has even promised Jack that he will take him to Wisconsin Dells if it goes well and they will go to a place called Deer Park where he could pet and feed a bunch of deer. Jack likes animals, sometimes more than people, they’re much less complicated.

“Oh my god! My Baby is a whore! You gave her a tramp stamp?” Dean gasps, pointing to the offending ‘Cemetery Boys’ magnet on the bumper.

“You like it? I made it myself!” Jack beams with pride, hoping Dean was speechless because he was blown away by his ability to create magnets.

“Also, the term you’re looking for is sex worker. You need to be more sex positive Dean, especially for someone, who from the sound I hear coming from your room at night, seems to enjoy sex a great deal.” Jack blurts out nervously when Dean doesn’t respond. Jack tends to do that, he wishes he could stop, another part of what makes him different from most people.

“Oh, for the love of Christ. Please Jack, no.” Sam is doing something Claire told Jack is a facepalm, meaning he was either embarrassed or frustrated, perhaps both?

“Do not be ashamed of our healthy sex life, Dean. But do but ashamed of your gendered slurs and generally overdramatic demeanor. The car is unharmed, it’s a magnet.” Cas steps in, doing the teasing thing again. Jack really doesn’t understand his dads, but he’s glad they seem happy together.

“I swear one day Baby and I will drive away and leave you all behind. Traitors.” Dean threatens, this is a joke, Jack measures. Dean does that a lot, uses sarcasm and empty threats, at first they used to confuse and frighten Jack but now he just accepts it’s part of his nature. Dean is grumpy. Loveable but grumpy.

“See your theatrics are quite comical. You couldn’t leave us if you tried. Who would open the pickle jars for you, darling?” Cas smirks, Jack remembers witnessing this scene, Dean saying all the “no words” at a jar of gherkins as he struggled for a good 5 minutes, until his dad took the jar and opened it within two seconds.

“It was one time! And I swear I loosened it!” Dean glowers, clearly ashamed by the great pickle debacle of last week.

“Dads, stop. I will remove the magnet.” Jack decides it’s his job to play peacemaker, he steps up and gently takes the magnet off baby’s bumper, Dean visibly sighs in relief. Jack tries to hide his disappointment, he’d meant the sticker as a gift.

Cas notices his mood shift and is by his side, pulling Jack into a side hug. “Hey, you can put it on my truck.” He offers, rubbing Jack’s back and making him instantly feel better, must be magic dad powers Jack figures.

“Thanks dad, this is why you’re my favorite.” He says without thinking, Sam and Dean giving him matching offended expressions.

“Uh-what about me, I’m the one that sneaks you candy when Cas isn’t looking.” Sam makes a good point, he is exceptionally good at sneaking. He and Jack have so much fun together, that’s how they ended up with Miracle the dog. Sam had helped Jack smuggle him into the bunker and once both Jack and Cas had bonded with the dog, Dean couldn’t kick him out. Though Jack knows that Dean loves the dog just as much, he’s caught him slipping Miracle some of the good bacon when he thinks no one is looking.

“No Dean is the one that gives me candy. You help me pull pranks!” Jack laughs as Dean, flinches, quickly busing himself with packing all their bags in the trunk along with the weapons they’d need.

“Dean!” Cas says in his low, ‘oh no you’re in trouble,’ voice. “We’ve dicussed this, Jack’s intake of high fructose corn syrup is frighteningly high. He needs to eat real food.” He adds. Nougat is a food, Jack thinks privately, nougat might be his favorite food in fact.

“He’s a kid, he’ll be fine. Dean and I lived on that shi-stuff as kids and we turned out alright.” Sam, usually the vegetable police, surprisingly comes to Jack and Dean’s rescue, earning a matching raised brow from them both.

“Did you though?” Cas challenges, hand on his hip, sometimes dad gets sassy. Jack likes when dad gets sassy because it’s funny, makes him laugh.

“Well damn, don’t sugar coat it or anything babe.” Dean says in disbelief, opening the passenger door for Cas, Sam climbing into Baby’s backseat before Dean motions for Jack to come sit behind him. “Do I even want to know?” He sighs as he spots the box Jack is carrying.

“Well you’ve all been distracting me, I almost forgot.” Jack pauses as he opens the box and holds up the Sam sized sweatshirt. “I made us all shirts! Team shirts, we’re the Cemetery Boys!” He says proudly, shoving the shirt at Sam, then two at Cas, one for him and one for Dean. Jack pulls on his own shirt right away, stretching his arms and modeling it for them all.

“Can you all wear them for me?” Jack pulls out his trump card for this one, using the ‘look’ that Sam had taught him. He made his eyes big and kept them open just long enough so they were watering slightly, then bit his lip.

“I really screwed myself when I taught you my secrets. Really, using my own puppy eyes on me. Really short sighted of me to teach you that.” Sam sighs as he pulls on the sweatshirt, Cas doing the same.

“Nope, still not doing it. I don’t do matching shirts.” Dean holds firm, shaking his head at Cas when he holds out the sweatshirt to him as they pull out of the garage.

“Dean, the couch in the library is awfully uncomfortable. It’d be a shame if you had to sleep there.” Cas is firmly on team Cemetery Boys, pulling out the big threats to get Jack his way.

“Ugh fine, but no one can ever find out about this!” Dean groans, waiting until he’s at a stop sign at the end of the road to pull it on. Jack lights up, his team is complete, all three dads are wearing his shirt!

“It’s funny how easily emasculated you are Dean. Life is a lot more fun when you stop caring about gender expectations.” Cas smirks, Dean rolling his eyes at Cas and mimicking his know it all expression.

“Dean is sensitive, dad, and he’s really good at making pies! I think he cares less than you think he does.” Jack pauses, pleased when Dean makes eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Besides, I saw the pink underwear he hides when I helped with that laundry that one time.” He adds, Dean’s smile quickly disappearing, his eyes wide as he tightly gripped the steering wheel.

“Jesus Christ, kid, stop selling out all my secrets.” Dean grits between his teeth, now he is blushing. Jack knows Dean hates blushing just as much as he does.

“Oh that’s good! Can’t wait to tell Claire that one!” Sam barks out a laugh, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“You wouldn’t!” Dean hangs his head in shame when they stop for a train.

“Already did!” Sam sing songs, holding up his phone. Jack is sometimes thankful that Claire doesn’t live with them, living with your sibling seems exhausting sometimes, if Sam and Dean are any indication.

“Alright that’s enough Jack, don’t spill all the coffee. Your dad is allowed to have his secrets.” Cas intervenes, gently patting Dean’s thigh.

“Tea, dad, its spill the tea!” Jack sometimes can’t handle how out of touch his dad is. Guess that’s what happens when you’re millions of years old.

“Oh right, what’s the difference?” Cas sighs, laying his head back against the headrest as if he’s exhausted, Jack knows it’s just for dramatic effect because Cas doesn’t sleep.

“Cas, there’s big difference! One is the nectar of the gods and the other is glorified leaf water.” Dean defends, holding Cas’ hand, it’s meant to be a private gesture, but Jack can see it and it makes his heart happy.

“Tea is good.” Sam tries.

“I rest my case.” Dean counterpoints.

The case is a rough one, it turns out to be a bit more than a simple salt and burn. The ghost, a family annihilator was coming from beyond the grave to try to kill his son who had survived his attack. They had split into two groups, Dean and Cas at the cemetery burning the bones and Jack and Sam with the victim, trying to keep him safe.

“Do you think maybe we can take a photo together in our shirts?” Jack asks offhandedly as he and Sam roam the house looking for any objects that might still tether the ghost to the house.

“Why do you care so much about these shirts and taking a photo together?” Sam asks curiously, making Jack pause to think for a moment.

“Because, I’ve been watching a bunch of shows and movies, and all the families in them, they have all these photos together. They make all these memories together and they display them in their houses for everyone to see. I want that. The fact that we don’t have that makes me kind of scared, like this isn’t real. Like you all are prepared to run at a moment’s notice if I go nuclear.” Jack explains, using air quotes around the word nuclear.

“Oh. Oh. Jack, hey, it’s not like that. I guess, well we’ve been so busy saving people and hunting things, we’ve lost track of normal family things. You’re family Jack. Promise.” Sam says right away, pulling Jack into a crushing hug. Sam is strong, Jack hopes to be that strong someday.

“Can we take a photo then, a family portrait?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Family portrait? Family portrait. Shit! Jack, the family portrait!” Sam gasps, letting Jack go and looking around the room with wild eyes.

“Huh?” Jack is trying to catch up before he spots the family portrait hanging above the fireplace, both the victim and his evil departed dad in the photo. He rushes to grab it off the wall and tosses it into the fireplace. Sam pulls out a container of salt and lighter fluid, coating the portrait, then Jack tosses a match, lighting it on fire.

“Good work kid.” Sam grins as the ghost appears and then bursts into flames. “I think you’ve earned that portrait.”

True to his word, the first thing in the morning, Sam helps Jack use the laptop to find the closest portrait studio. It happens to be a JC Penney portrait studio, making Dean groan and complain about cheesy backgrounds and awkward poses that they’d likely endure. With much coaxing and further threats from Cas to relegate Dean to sleeping with Miracle on the dog bed, he agrees to the photoshoot.

Jack gets several copies of the photos made. He hands out wallet sized copies to Mary and Eileen who both coo over how adorable they look. Cas gets it framed and hangs it in the library, Dean never admits he likes it, but Jack catches him stopping to look at it every day, a proud smile on his face.

This is Jack’s family. His team. His Cemetery Boys.

#suptober21 #cemetery boys #supernatural #destiel #jack kline #jack kline pov #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fan fiction

14 notes · View notes

auggieparkhurst · 3 years ago

Text

Labyrinth

Perhaps he could not find respite in the shadows of their shared hearth, the second chair now occupied by someone else, but he could still find it within dust-filmed tomes. The bell’s chime welcomed Augustine into Stacks. It was an old, decrepit bookstore. Haphazardly wedged between two towering buildings, as if it’s been an afterthought. Even late in the evening, as Augustine had left the house at nine bells, the door to the shop remained unlocked. Ever confident was the Archivist in her security measures. The runes of her ingenuitive mind were etched into the doorframe, their lament light barely visible. He blinked up at them, flashed a smile, and stepped inside. Immediately the young man was met by the dower countenance of the Archivist. A gnome, who showed the first signs of grey as testament to her age, by the name of Tinkara, perched behind an adjacent counter. The ledger sprawled across her desk marked by a quill as she peered over horn-rimmed glasses.

“Hello again, Augustine.” She spared no time for pleasantries. Any kind word to be offered by him promptly silenced by an upheld hand. She licked a fingertip and flipped a few pages in her ledger. The crow’s feet at her eyes deepened as she strained to read. Her lips puckered in an indignant pout, nail tracing along a line of text. “Here we go. Alchemical Principles and Runic Associations,” -she quirked a thin brow- “Just got it in, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”

He forced his smile to grow beyond its limits, revealing a sliver of teeth, while he stuffed any misgivings down his throat. The passenger in his bag squirmed. “Oh,” he chittered, clutching his satchel’s strap in a white-knuckled grip. “Um...Not tonight, actually. I was just looking to browse.”

“Hmph.” Tinkara squinted. Milky gaze traipsed up and along his length until it lingered on his face. Another chuff. She flipped the ledger closed with a satisfying smack. “Look to your heart’s content, I suppose.”

“Thank you.”

Just as he turned to leave, Tinkara beckoned him back. “One moment, Augustine.”

He froze in the aisle, gaze fixed on some distant point. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You don’t have that cat with you, do you?”

His laugh was effortless. Light and airy, he expelled it like any other breath as he shook his head- extra sure to jostle his curls just so. “Of course not.” He looked over his shoulder to the Archivist, canting his head. “Wouldn’t dream of bringing her inside. Not after what happened last time.”

“Uh. Huh.” Tinkara pushed the spectacles further up her nose. She gave Augustine another once over. “I should hope so.” She waved him on.

Augustine dipped his head in gratitude and scurried down the seemingly endless aisle of books. That was the magic of Stacks. It’s exterior belied little of it’s interior. A street view would lead by-passers believing the shop to be little more than an insubstantial accrual of second-hand books. Only those who ventured inside knew the truth-- that the shop was bigger on the inside. Augustine ventured down the aisle, hand trailing along the spines of leather-bound books, and veered right when the path forked. And continued to choose right whenever the opportunity presented itself. Further and further, he dove into the labyrinth. His shadow growing into itself by glow of alchemical lanterns. The tension in his shoulders began to unwound as the thick shelves swallowed any idle sounds made by the Archivist. Sure that he had placed enough distance between himself and her, Augustine paused. Knelt down and opened his satchel. From its fold, a black coil spilled onto the floor. A pleasant purr rolled from the feline shade as she nudged his hand.

“Yes, hello.” Augustine ran his hand down Calcifer’s back, and smiled when she rewarded him with the languid swish of her tail. He rose onto his haunches, arm extended down. “Come on then.” A devious smile curled at his lips as he added in a haughty tone, “As it please you, my Shadow.”

Green gaze wrinkled beneath the weight of the cat’s smug grin. She plodded up his arm and curled herself around his neck- tail coiled just under his chin.

The two continued their journey- always right, never left- until they reached the emporium’s heart. The endless line of books opened into a central chamber lit by alchemical lanterns and furnished with a handful of weathered tables and accompanying chairs. A few ink pots and quills dotted the separate work spaces for anyone who chose to use them, stacks of parchment kept at the head of each table. Everything always kept in order, no matter the occasion, by an unseen force which enacted on the Archivist’s demand for organization.

Augustine expected the space to be vacant, as it normally was at this time of evening, and found himself a bit miffed when a mysterious man occupied his favored spot. A Kaldorei reclined back in the chair closest to the trolley of books. One hand supported the back of his head while the other held a weathered-novel folded back on its spine. He read with an impassive countenance. Skimmed through the pages as if they were little more than filler.

Retorts churned in Augustine’s stomach. Unsure if he could muster them beyond a shy whisper, he continued to swallow them down. His fingers flexing as they worked the icy-pricks of annoyance from his hands. Resolving to leave the man alone and choose another spot, he turned on his heel-

-and froze when the gentleman cleared his throat.

“Master Parkhurst?”

Augustine bit back a crestfallen smile as he faced the man. “Oh. No. You must have me mistaken for my sister- Max Parkhurst.”

The Kaldorei rose from his chair with the shake of his head. Stepping out from the shadows and into the lantern’s glow, Augustine caught a better glimpse of the man. He was such a miserable specimen. Ears cropped to a length far unusual, cheeks hollowed and eyes - faintly lambent and silver- sunken into his skull. Wisps of black hair, dull and a bit lackluster, pulled into a haphazard tail. Only the wire-thin hairs of a goatee brought softness to his features. Augustine might’ve thought him to be bitter with his ill-fitting clothes and slight limp. But then, the man’s thin lips curled in a beaming smile. All teeth and no eyes.

“No. I am quite certain I have the right man.” He dipped his head low. “Augustine Parkhurst, yes?”

Augustine cast him a dubious look. “Yes…” A tentative hand reached for Calcifer, finding remedy to his nerves in the down of her fur. “That’s me- I’m sorry. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Laughter eased the bite from the man’s appearances. He extended a callused hand out to Augustine. The chemical stains on his fingers contrasted against his ash-grey skin. “My apologies, young master. I am Hyleass Duskbough.”

An excited current danced up Augustine’s spine. “You’re...The Hyleass Duskbough?” he breathed, lips curling in a manic grin. He promptly took Hyleass’s hand in both his own. “The Glasswork Alchemist?”

“Anu’dora,” -Hyleass turned bashful gaze skyward- “That is one of my many titles. Though, these days I’m referred to as Councilman Duskbough.”

The sudden realization sapped the warmth from Augustine’s blood, and settled heavy in his stomach. He pulled his hands from Hyleass. Swallowed back the lump crawling up his throat. “High Alchemist…” He folded himself over in a low bow- Calcifer spilling from his shoulders. “I-I am so sorry for the disrespect! Had I known- If I was more observant… I’d wouldn’t have guessed you of all people would frequent- erm. Um! Not saying you couldn’t visit a bookstore, but tha-”

Hyleass culled Auggie’s stream of incoherent babble with an upheld hand. His smile turned gentle. “It is quite alright. I am no more a man than you. Amongst these stacks, we are equals. So, please, just Hyleass.” He left no room for interjection as he canted his head.

Augustine nodded slowly as he rose. His gaze remained rooted to the ground. “Then it is an honor, Hyleass.” A moment’s contemplation passed before he cracked a meek grin, stealing a glance up at the elder alchemist. “I am a big fan of your work.”

“As I of yours, young master.”

Inklings of warmth swelled in Augustine’s chest. “Really?”

The Kaldorei gave an affirming nod. Either of his hands came to rest in the depths of his coat pockets. His gaze found the young man’s, twinkling with aged whimsy. “Quite. Unique ideas with execution of equal measure. And your dissertation?” A breath of laughter filled the momentary quiet. “It I was none the wiser, I’d have sooner thought you a wordsmith rather than alchemist.” The gaiety all but withered from his smile. “A pity,” he lamented with the twitch of an ill-cropped ear, “That the Board refused to advance it.”

For all the praise in the world, Augustine couldn’t ignore the thin dagger which those words slid between his ribs. Old wounds never quite healed reopened with a simple reminder. The rejection still lived rent free in his head. Denied advancement. Try again next year. He tried to not let the disappointment show in his smile. Brushed it off with a half-shrug. “It gives me plenty of time to re-evaluate. To hone in on my research. As they say, ‘A jack of all trades is a master of none.’”

“Dora’ dor,” Hyleass remarked, “Though, you neglect the entirety of the quote.” He ventured back to the table, gaze thrown over his shoulder. “ ‘But oftentimes better than a master of one.’” A knowing smirk given as he began to collect his things. “You’ve remarkable potential, Augustine. Let not the word of a few pious individuals sully your thirst.”

The tailspin of emotions had begun to make Augustine dizzy. He entered Stacks with a seedling of resentment in his chest. So quick it shifted. Like the passing of a season. First to annoyance. Then annoyance rolled into excitement. To embarrassment. To pride then shame. And now, he stood in a dizzying stupor. Strength siphoned from the current dancing up his spine. Not a name to be given to this buzz as he merely beamed at Hyleass. For once, he was left speechless.

Hyleass filled the silence for him.

“It was a pleasure to meet you in person. Unfortunately, I’ve other duties to attend to.” He paused beside Augustine, casting the young man a knowing look. “Shall I see you here tomorrow, same time?”

Augustine blinked out of his stupor. Met the question with an eager nod. “Oh. Um. Yes, sir!”

A dubious brow was quirked at Auggie. He quickly checked himself. “I mean- Yes, Hyleass.”

The elf grew a face-splitting grin. “Excellent. Until then, ande’thoras’ethil.”

And with a departing nod, Hyleass ventured into the labyrinth of books. Augustine left to simmer in his excited buzz until Calcifer’s delicate chirp plucked him dust-filled clouds. He smiled down at his feline shadow.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed, reaching down to stroke Calcifer’s ear.

The cat responded with the deft thump of her tail.

Tomorrow.

[Prelude] | [Audience]

#| Labyrinth |#The Alchemists #| Omens Etched in Crimson |#Augustine Parkhurst #Hyleass Duskbough

18 notes · View notes

delos-mio · 4 years ago

Text

Death of a Bachelor - EPILOGUE

“Fuck, we’re so late!” you sighed as Charles pressed the elevator button for the 15th floor of the downtown high-rise. This photoshoot and interview had been on the books pretty much as soon as you and Logan got back from your honeymoon, so really, there was no good reason to be running this far behind. But, you’d been held up at the hotel putting out small fires that didn’t stop just because you were away from the office.

“Sorry! I know, I know. I don’t know why Cole can’t figure out how to convert anything to a fucking PDF.” Charles had been promoted to office manager and had been doing a spectacular job. You always knew he would be, but when it was finally time to add on those additional responsibilities, he took them on effortlessly. He did still enjoy moonlighting as your personal assistant, even though technically you had hired someone new to do that job. Now when he helped you out, it was as a devoted friend as opposed to paid employee.

“Just…just talk to him tomorrow, please?” you asked, the elevator pinging and doors opening.

“Don’t worry- you can consider it done.”

Your heels clicked on the tile floor as you made your way to the receptionist’s desk. The Forbes HQ was sleek and screamed “wealth”, which you were used to at this point. As you got closer, the curly haired woman stood up from her seat with a bright smile and rounded the desk to greet you.

“Mrs. Delos! We’re so excited to have you here!” She took your hand and gave it a shake.

“Thank you, happy to be here,” you replied, dropping her hand. “But, I actually kept my own last name,” you corrected gently. It was an honest mistake and one that happened often. You’d perfected the polite correction over the last couple months.

“I am SO sorry,” she said with genuine embarrassment. “Truly, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s really ok, dear. It happens all the time.” You waved her off quickly and reassured her it was just fine. “Besides, there are a lot worse things to be called than a Delos, right?” The smile finally returned to her face.

“You’re right about that,” she laughed and visibly let out a breath. “Here, follow me. The rest of your group is just through here.”

You followed her down a hall with double doors at the end. Just as she was about to usher you in, you heard your favorite laugh in the whole wide world. There Logan was, laughing at something Elliot had said, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. You loved it when he let go like that and just enjoyed himself and his company. He was handsome all the time, but he was absolutely breathtaking when he was happy. Logan must have heard the door shut behind you as he opened his eyes and turned to you, a grin plastered on his face. He held out his hand to you, which you were all too happy to take.

“Hey,” you whispered just to him.

“Hi,” Logan breathed back before placing his palm on the small of your back and kissing you with a smile still on his lips. “Glad you made it.”

“I was always going to make it,” you huffed, shoving his shoulder gently. “Sorry for being late.”

“I’m a patient man,” he shrugged.

“No, you’re not,” you laughed and he broke into a grin. “You look extra handsome.”

“Thank you, princess. You look entirely fuckable yourself,” he said in a low voice just for you, his hand wandering down your backside.

“Ugh, ok, enough,” Juliet said with a roll of her eyes. “Can we get this show on the road?”

With that, the photographer came over and started arranging everyone in front of the windows with the New York skyline in the background. Elliot and Emily were directed to stand together back toward the window, Charles placed just next to them. Juliet stood near the middle with John by her side. Finally, the photographer had you stand on Logan’s left side, the two of you front and center. Without prompting, Logan wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in close, kissing your temple.

“Can you…sorry. Forbes is looking for more…professional shots…” The photographer attempted to interrupt, but Logan kept his arm around you, only glancing in his direction.

“So, I’m not allowed to kiss my wife?” Wife. You still loved hearing the word fall from his lips.

“I…” the photographer drawled, clearly uncomfortable and unsure how to answer.

“I’m fucking with you. We can behave for an hour, can’t we?” Logan asked you, arching an eyebrow.

“I can. Jury’s still out on you,” you winked. You heard Logan groan that desperate little sound he liked to make in the back of his throat and ignored him, turning to the lens as the camera clicked.

The photo shoot was light and fun. You weren’t really sure what to expect since your experience being professionally photographed was extremely limited. But, Logan was a seasoned pro and never let you out of his grip, quietly encouraging you and fawning as picture after picture was snapped.

“Alright, I think we got what we need. You all did great,” the photographer smiled and set his camera down. “I think Carmen is set up in the other room whenever you’re ready.”

“Have you guys already talked to her?” you asked Emily.

“Yeah, she grabbed all of us before you and Chuck came. I think she’s doing his interview last.”

“Sounds good. How was it? Is she nice?” you asked, nervously thumbing the band on your ring finger, a new habit you’d picked up.

“She was pretty cool, actually,” Elliot shrugged.

“Mostly asked about you two,” John smirked. “Y’know, making sure you’re treating us good and all that.”

“Whatever,” Logan laughed. “You ready, babe?” You nodded and he draped his arm over your shoulder, ushering you into the small side room where a Forbes journalist sat.

“Mr. and Mrs. Delos! Very nice to meet you! I’m Carmen.” She introduced herself and shook your and your husband’s hands.

“Thank you for having us. However, my wife has kept her last name,” Logan said with a charming smile.

“Of course, of course. My apologies. A modern woman- I love it!” Carmen chirped before gesturing you both to take a seat. Logan waited for you to settle in, smooth down the top of your pencil skirt, before taking his seat next to you and placing his arm around you along the back of the couch.

“So, some congratulations are in order! First, congrats on Delos being named one of the Most Innovative Companies. That’s quite an accomplishment for your first year of ownership.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a small nod.

“Second, congrats on your recent nuptials! Tech’s most eligible bachelor is officially off the market,” Carmen laughed. “Tell me a little bit about your wedding before we get into the meat and potatoes.”

“Well,” you started, “We started planning a kind of big wedding, something that we thought weddings usually looked like. But a couple months into making arrangements, we decided that it wasn’t for us and everything we’d been planning just wasn’t what we wanted. So, we rounded up everyone who was in that photoshoot with us and eloped in Fiji.”

“Wow, that’s quite a 180. And Fiji, that must have been beautiful!” Carmen beamed, clearly caught up in the whimsy of just fucking off impulsively to another country and getting married.

“They’re our family and at the end of the day, everyone else we planned on inviting was just decoration. It was nice just to have the people who mattered there with us,” Logan said, looking at you with a soft smile. “I only cared that my wife walked down to meet me at the end of that isle. Whatever else she did or didn’t want on that day was good with me.”

“That’s so sweet,” Carmen cooed. “Well, I’m very happy for you and marriage looks good on you both.” She took a moment to turn on the recording function on her phone and organize her notes. “So, once you got home, walk me through what happened at Delos. There has obviously been a lot of speculation between the change in ownership, the pivot to Virtual Reality, and the acquisition of other businesses.”

“As you know, John and I bought Delos last year from my father. In that last year, we more or less gutted the whole thing and started new. We kept on Juliet, obviously, and my secretary and that was it. Everyone else was let go. We made sure to bring in talent that was new and fresh and rallied around building Delos back up. My father liked people who said yes to him, and that led to a lot of stagnation both in new ideas and growth for the business. John and I didn’t want that. We wanted to make Delos our own.” Logan had that proud, serious look in his eyes that made you clamp your thighs together just a little bit tighter. “Our vision of the future of Delos required a clean house and staff who were excited and innovative.”

“That’s a bold move. What empowered you to take such a big leap?” Carmen asked.

“Is it corny if I say the woman sitting next to me?” Logan chuckled.

“Oh Christ, stop,” you laughed.

“I mean it though!” Logan looked over at you fondly, his gaze soft before turning back to Carmen. “She has pushed me since the first day we met. And she’s supported me unconditionally all this time. I don’t think I’d have the courage to do half of what we’ve accomplished if I didn’t know I had her behind me.”

“The thing about Logan is that he’s incredibly driven. If he wants to accomplish something, he puts his mind to it and he does it. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” You squeezed above his knee, feeling an incredible swell of pride in your chest. He really had some so far and worked so, so hard in the years you’d been together. It was hard not to feel proud and keep the tears from your eyes. Logan must have sensed what was going through your head because he leaned over to press a quick kiss to your temple, just something light to ground you, remind you he had your back too.

“Once John and I had cleared everyone out, that left us with four employees. Which wasn’t going to work, clearly. But lucky for me, my beautiful wife is also an entrepreneur,” Logan smiled.

“Yes. I’d owned my own marketing firm and really, it just made sense at that point kind of merge the two companies.” You nodded.

“We brought marketing in house and took on her staff and bought her business in exchange for ownership shares. Now, Delos is a three owner operation,” Logan grinned. It was important to both of you that you not work for Logan, but rather with him. “Her old assistant became our office manager and is now in charge of day-to-day operations. My sister and brother in law, Emily and Elliot, moved out to LA from Milwaukee and headed up talent management and recruiting. They helped us fill in the other vacancies left.”

“So, it really is a family affair, huh?” Carmen asked, looking between the two of you.

“I think we’ve both learned how important it is to keep a tight circle of people you can trust. These are people we’ve known our entire lives, that are the very best at what they do, and are unwaveringly loyal.” You looked at Logan, who nodded in agreement. “Saying ‘yes’ to everything and being loyal aren’t the same thing. And I think that’s something that previous ownership never understood.”

“Damn right,” Logan affirmed with a crooked smile, his eyes still trained on you.

“I think ‘power couple’ doesn’t even come close to describing you two! It’s been amazing as someone who watches the market and businesses to see Delos rise from the ashes into this juggernaut that it is today.” Carmen seemed genuinely impressed and a bit enamored by you and Logan.

“It was a lot of long nights and hard work. But we like to think it’s been worth it, right?” You asked Logan.

“It’s all been worth it. Everything.”

---

About a month later, you were curled up on the couch, totally zoning out as an episode of Real Housewives of Potomac played. Sleep was weighing heavy on your eyelids when the front door opened and shut again. Finally, Logan was home which meant you now had your favorite pillow to fall asleep on. You listened to him set down his keys, hang up his jacket in the closet, and grab himself a San Pellegrino before wandering into the living room.

“Happy you’re home,” you said with a sleepy smile, reaching out your arms to beckon him over.

“Happy to be home,” Logan laughed and took his normal spot in the corner, legs sprawled out on the chaise, and quickly scooped you into his arms. You settled in his lap and gave him a kiss hello, an I missed you kiss, an I’m so happy to see you kiss. “Got a surprise for you,” he murmured against your lips.

“Yeah?” you asked, running your fingers through his dark hair. From over the side of the couch, he pulled out a copy of the newest Forbes magazine with a proud flourish. “Oh lord.”

“Page 71,” he directed, handing it over to you. And sure enough, there you two were, front and center, with every important member of your team, and family, behind you. There was something uncomfortable about seeing your own face on a glossy page, but the picture really was nice of the whole group. Logan radiated confidence and power, his arm securely around you in a way that said I wish you would try to fuck with us.

“It sure is…published,” you laughed.

“You look so fucking beautiful. I can’t wait to get this blown up and hang it in the lobby,” he mused, looking over your shoulder at the write up.

“For real?”

“I think it’s a great picture! It should be the first thing anyone sees when they come in the office, don’t you think?” Logan placed a tender kiss on your shoulder.

“I suppose.” You still weren’t entirely convinced, but it was also impossible for you to say no to Logan. You handed the open magazine back to him and let your head rest against his shoulder. “Read it to me?”

“Of course, princess,” he chuckled and raised the article into his line of sight, starting in on the story you knew and lived. Your eyes slipped shut as you let the sound of Logan’s voice and his heartbeat comfort you and lull you into a peaceful sleep.

TAGGED: @marvelcapsicle @thesandbeneathmytoes @something-tofightfor @songtoyou @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @abroadcastofthemind @gollyderek @dylanobrusso @marauderskeeper

#logan #logan delos #logan delos x reader #ben barnes #westworld #logan x reader #logan delos fanfic #logan westworld #westworld fanfic #ben barnes character fic #doab #masterlist

81 notes · View notes