#i know i’m doing the monochrome coloring again but i couldn’t help myself

[golden--doodler]

Louigan Week Day Three: Bicker/Unspoken

Happy Day Three of @louiganweek!! I decided for today, the concept would be that Louise and Logan had a fight (because when do they not), and Louise is currently giving him the silent treatment (hence the unspoken part of the prompt). And Logan is now having a dramatic musical moment, because he’s a Drama Queen. And it’s great.

[ID]: Digital fanart of Logan Bush from Bob’s Burgers. Logan is seen from the waist up and in a simple sketchy style with dark purple monochromatic coloring. He has one arm raised in the air dramatically, and he has an emotional look on his face, complete with watery eyes. He looks as if he’s bursting into song. He’s also standing in the Belcher’s kitchen.

[minty-chocco]

hallo may i request Riddle falling out of love... And reader knows but isn't ready for the possibilities...👉👈 I like hurting myself with angst😔🤡👊✨ love your writing~

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 🧁

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

Warning(s): Angst if it’s not your fancy + it’s cliche (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Word Count: 1.8k words

Extra Notes: I got carried away for this prompt (*/ω＼) I was just listening to random songs and suddenly the one that got away played and I remembered this ask so I decided to do this! This is the first time i’m writing about this kind of prompt and I apologize in advance since I kinda strayed from it but I tried my best nonetheless. I hope you enjoy reading! o(>ω<)o

The scenery was quiet and serene. This would be relaxing to some but to you, the silence was suffocating. The rose garden was devoid of students except for the two of you. It were bereft of any winds and the tree leaves surrounding the garden hung limp as some fell to their own accord. 

Clutching at your tea cup you looked at the young redhaired man across you. He was on his dorm uniform as usual, his cape was neatly placed on the back of his chair, taking a sip from his drink. 

His face was one of awkwardness, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. Looking anywhere but at you.

You pondered as to why. Is it because of guilt? Or was it because of you? Is your presence was starting to become unbearable to him?

“Riddle.” You called out for him and the dorm leader froze but turned to look at you. Your eyes have finally met his for the first time this evening. 

 “Yes, (Y/N)?” He looked at you, his tone of speaking changed as if he’s talking to a stranger. It no longer held the soft tone he would use as he always regarded you.

“After we finish, let’s go explore the rose maze, okay?” You smiled at him, trying your best to be enthusiastic and keeping a friendly atmosphere. You gently caressed the marble colored tea cup you’re holding.

This is your last day with him after all.

“Okay.” He shortly replied. Riddle took a sugar cube and plopped 2 blocks in his chamomile tea. The brown herb-brew water splashed lightly upon the impact and the sugar instantly melted after meeting the hot tea, he then took a teaspoon to fully mix his drink.

You nodded at his answer, satisfied that he even replied. He would’ve just ignored you or nodded at your question. You thought maybe he was being considerate of you.

You lift the silver glassware tea cup and took notice of your features from the reflection of the drink.

You looked miserable. The dark circles on your eyes were deep-set and tired for crying yourself to sleep every day.

The sweet desserts on the table in celebration of your anniversary were bright lovely colors in contrast to the monochrome mood settling in between the two of you. 

You took a strawberry flavored macaron and took a bite. You tasted nothing. Trey’s sweet always had such a sweet and unique flavoring on it in which you admire so you’re always looking forward at his treats but today it tasted bland.

Maybe your mood was affecting your taste buds. You felt a little upset that you could no longer enjoy the simple things in life because you felt so miserable. This relationship was draining you.

After finishing a few sweets and drank your tea you two decided to be on your way. There were some left since you didn’t have the appetite but you were sure that Grim and the rest of your friends would happily eat them. Good for them. At least they are happy.

You stood up from your seat and gestured to Riddle. “Let’s go.” 

“Don’t take too much time.” He reminded firmly and followed you behind soon after. He’s treating you like any other students and not as a lover. “We should head back early.” 

“Let’s not talk about that.” You said waving him off not wanting to be reminded of time. The limited time that you two have left.

You two strolled around the maze, the sun was reaching its peak. Riddle was quietly following you from behind, 5 feet away from you. 

You smiled bitterly at yourself, you two used to walk side by side while holding hands but now it’s as if he’s also mocking the distance that grew between you two.

You stopped upon arriving at a familiar place at the part of the garden. The two of you sat at a nearby bench, Riddle made sure he isn’t too close to you before taking a seat.

“Remember when we first got together?” You recalled a memory from a past and looked to see Riddle’s reaction, his face was burdened with guilt and a mix of regret. He couldn’t even face you.

“This is where we first got together.” He answered and gazed at the painted roses. “Trey and Cater were helping me confess.” 

You chuckled fondly at the memory. As if nothing’s wrong. “Yeah. You were stuttering at your words back then.” 

Looking back, Riddle was as red as his hair but not in anger but in pure embarrassment back then. You were surprised at his sudden confession not expecting him to return your feelings at all.

When you accepted, Riddle couldn’t be happier and the two of you shared your first kiss in this place. 

Your relationship with him wasn’t perfect. Just like any other couples, you two would fight. His temper doesn’t help during arguments either but you two made sure at the end of the day you two would make up, not wanting the other to sleep with a heavy heart. 

There might be some misunderstandings but the two of you would often communicate with each other to help understand each side. 

Riddle was awkward at the first stages of your relationship. This was his first relationship and he wants to become a good partner for you. Despite his loaded duties, he’ll always made sure to have time for you. 

The heartslabyul dorm leader would have one on one tea parties with you atleast 2 times a week. He’ll make you desserts without the help of Trey to show his sincerity, although it might not be the best, you appreciate his effort and would happily eat what he offered.

He’ll be shy just from a small romantic gesture like holding hands but even so, he would never let go and his grip is secure. He makes sure that you’re not failing any subjects and would glad to go on to study dates with you. He always called your name with such fondness that you can’t help but feel loved. 

You once tried to make up a pet name for the two of you in which he politely declined. Riddle said he liked it when he calls your name because he loves your name as he does to you. This of course made you flustered, he didn’t even realize what he was saying until it dwelled on him which made him redder than you.

You felt hot burning pain build up on your chest at the sweet memories which will soon turn into bittersweet ones. “You promised to treat me well back then.. What happened now?” 

Riddle couldn’t answer. How could he answer that?

Noticing the lack of response, you whispered to yourself. “Promises really do meant to be broken.”

“(Y/N).” He warned. Riddle’s voice was cold and no longer held the fondness when saying your name before. 

“I was just joking.” You let out a forced laugh. “Happy anniversary.”

By your words, Riddle felt guilt again that he had been feeling all this time. Regret washed over his expression like a slow wave on a beach in the night. Each wave was icy and cold such as he was feeling right now but he knows he can no longer go back.

Although it was inevitable, he can’t force himself in a relationship with someone he no longer loves. Riddle really didn’t want to keep you hoping any longer so he wanted to break up with you yesterday but you had begged him to at least celebrate your anniversary. Just lie to each other again one last time.

“We should head back.” Riddle suggested not wanting to be here any longer. He stood up not waiting for your reply when you suddenly held his hand. 

“Wait.” You felt desperate, you wanted to be with him more. You help on tightly not wanting to let go. “C-can you stay a little longer?” 

“I can’t. I have to check the dorm.” He tried to loosen up your grip but you held on tighter. 

“I love you.” You declared your love for him once again hoping it was enough to make him stay but silence was followed. As if it will.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in a small voice. He was being nice to you out of respect being his first love but his words for you were cruel that he inflicted unintentionally. If he had been aware, he would not have cared one iota.

Your breath hitched. “Can’t.. you just say it back one last time?” 

“I can’t keep lying to you, (Y/N).” 

“Please.” You pleaded. “Just this time.”

Riddle felt frustrated but obeyed nonetheless. He hoped that at least this could give you peace. “I love you.” 

There, you finally heard the words that you haven’t heard for a long time now. That phrase was supposed to make any person feel butterflies but it was different for you. It was 3 words that expresses someone’s feelings of affection but Riddle’s words felt empty. It made you feel worse and you finally let go of his hand.

But instead he didn’t leave, he looked at you one last time with a pitiful expression on his face directed at you and you hated it. You didn’t want his pity. “You deserve better.” 

You gritted your teeth wanting to scream at him. Why? Just when did it go wrong?

He smiled at you and gently caressed your hair. This is the least he could do to comfort you. “I really did love you, (Y/N). Thank you for everything. You’re still welcome at heartslabyul anytime.”

Riddle soon turned his back on you and walked away.

You could only stare blankly at his retreating figure. No tears were shed, you already had cried enough upon realizing he doesn’t love you anymore. 

Instead, you felt empty. 

How ironic it is that in this exact spot that your relationship started but it’s also the very same place that ended it.

Deep down, you knew this would happen but refused to accept it. Even when Riddle would often ignore you in between classes, you’ll think maybe he is having a bad day. Even when he would look annoyed whenever you initiate physical affection, you’ll think maybe he is just tired. Even when he no longer calls your name with such warmth, you’ll think maybe he isn’t in the mood.

But that routine held on for a month now. At some point, you can’t make out excuses anymore because you have already been giving him too much.

Maybe if things could’ve been done differently, the outcome would’ve changed. 

Maybe if you tried hard enough.

But you could only dwell on the possibilities.

In another life, surely you two would still be happily together.

Sadly, that story isn’t yours to tell. 

Because the story of the two of you already ended here. 

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 🌙

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 22: An Offer

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Lacey has a meeting with Mayor Mills

Read on AO3

Content warning for verbal abuse and sexual fear

The clacking of Lacey’s heels against the sidewalk was music to her ears. She felt right, dressed like a whore and parading herself down Main Street. After her conversation with Mayor Mills, the stupid voice in the back of her head was quiet. Finally, things were back to normal. 

Now it didn’t matter that Mr. Gold had been acting like a stranger since October. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want her, that he was fucking somebody else. She didn’t need him. She didn’t have to be “Mrs. Gold” in order to get what she wanted out of life. All that bastard did was pay her. He didn’t own her. He’d given up that privilege months ago. She didn’t have to belong to him. There were lots of other people out there. Mayor Mills wanted to help her. Mayor Mills wanted her.

At least, she was pretty sure she did. It was hard to tell. Lacey had never had a woman look at her the way Mayor Mills did sometimes. It was a sharp, laser-focused look. A look that cut her to the bone and then began to saw into her marrow. Like everything Lacey was, everything she had ever been or had ever dreamed of being, was laid bare for Mayor Mills’ approval. 

Mr. Gold used to look at her like that.

Lacey dug her nails into her palms. Or maybe she was an idiot. Maybe she had been imagining the little signs. Maybe the mayor of Storybrooke would try to help anybody she came across in town, offer them rides in her sporty black Mercedes-Benz. Maybe she would arrange an after-hours meeting with any married woman who called her up. Maybe it was a public service.

Or maybe not.  

She remembered this feeling, this knowing-but-not-knowing. The anticipation. The unanswered questions. The tension gave her a thrill. A thrill she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Maybe that was why it was so easy to lie when she walked into the pawn shop.

Mr. Gold looked up from his inventory book when he heard her. His eyes were cautious. Afraid? Was this sad little coward really afraid of her? Maybe that was why it was so easy to grin at him, to reassure him with bright eyes and a lilting voice. 

“I wasn’t sure what you were doing for lunch,” she chirped. “Want me to pick up something from Granny’s?”

The corners of his mouth lifted up. It was almost a smile. “No thank you, Mrs. Gold. I brought leftovers from home today.”

She nodded, and tapped her fingers against the counter in front of him. How many times had he fucked her against these display cases? How many times had she dropped to her knees behind the cash register while the shop was still open? He would challenge her to hurry, to suck him off before a customer walked in on them. He told her he would beat her black and blue if she failed.

What kind of things would Mayor Mills want her to do?

“Hey, I’m sorry about this morning,” Lacey lied. “I’ve just been really stupid and emotional lately.”

“You’re not stupid,” Mr. Gold said softly. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you. I’m sorry about that.”

A plastic smile was a wonderful talent. She was used to using it on other people, but now Mr. Gold was as easy to fool as everyone else. 

“It’s not your fault,” she said sweetly, even though she was ready to spit acid in his face. “I just needed some time to myself this morning. But I feel better now. Later today I’m gonna get my hair done. I scheduled an appointment for around five.”

Easy as it was to lie, there was a specific delight in letting him get the wrong idea from entirely factual information. He had taught her how to do that. She would go to Janine’s and get her hair styled. And then she would have her appointment with Mayor Mills at five o’clock on the dot.

And he just nodded, just went along with it. Idiot. “The shop will be closed by the time you’re done. I can pick you up at the salon.”

She wrinkled her nose. Playful, casual. Not a care in the world. “No, I don’t know how long I’ll be, and the weather looks like nothing but blue skies. Besides, you’ll want to start supper. What are we having tonight?”

He began to ramble on about spring onions and fricasseeing, while Lacey counted the hours until her appointment at City Hall.   

****

Officially, the city offices closed at 4 PM, but everybody knew that Mayor Mills stayed as late as she needed to keep the town running.  Everyone admired her devotion, but pitied how often she had to leave her sweet little boy unsupervised. Rumor had it that was why Henry was so troubled, why he kept hanging around shady characters like Sheriff Swan, his birth mother. But his real mother was doing the best anyone could under such circumstances. Henry had appointments with Dr. Hopper several nights a week to keep his moods under control.

Why do you know so much about Regina’s life? Why is that woman the center of the universe in this town? Think about it!

Of course the voice was back. Lacey wasn’t sure if she wanted a stiff drink or a total lobotomy. Whatever would get it to shut up.

City Hall was quiet, that was part of the trouble. The empty hallway echoed so much she could hear her heart beating along with the sound of her footsteps. The voice always started jabbering at her during moments of stillness, moments when she should have been at peace. 

She couldn’t tell if City Hall was serene or creepy. Like most buildings in the rich part of New Town, the design was sleek and modern. The interiors were stark white trimmed in black--plaster walls and gleaming tile floors. Right now, it had the terrible oddness of a place that was supposed to be filled with people, but wasn’t. 

At this late hour, the fluorescent lights were dimmed. During the day the brightness was intimidating, but long evening shadows didn’t inspire confidence either. The doors lining the hall were a fake wood laminate, so dark they were almost black. The only other color came from the occasional piece of corporate art hanging up on the walls. Black and white photos of Storybrooke, all in frames as red as blood.

This is a bad place. You need to leave! 

“Shut up,” she hissed. She would try not to tell Mayor Mills about the voice right away. No need to let the mayor think she was crazy. Besides, if all this went right, Lacey would feel a lot better very soon. 

The door to the mayor’s office was ajar, but Lacey still knocked on the ebony frame.

“Come in,” Mayor Mills’ voice was brusque. For a split-second, fear clenched at Lacey’s stomach. She should listen to the voice in her head and run! Run away from this place that felt like a haunted house, run back home to Mr. Gold or to her father or to Sheriff Swan or anyone but Regina!  

But she didn’t. 

All Lacey did was adjust her purple bustier and walk in.

“Close the door behind you.” Mayor Mills didn’t look up from her paperwork.

Lacey did as she was asked--did as she was told. Her pulse quickened to be obeying orders again. 

Like the rest of City Hall, the mayor’s office was nothing but black and white. The only difference was the clutter of prints and patterns. The wallpaper, the curtains, the upholstery on the conference table chairs--they were all a different print, but they were all monochrome. There was no illusion of serenity here. The room looked designed to disorient.

Even the stone floor was inlaid with black and white. An outline of a circle took up most of the space between the door and the desk. The circle was black, with tapered black flags coming out from the center. It looked like a pinwheel, or a clock, or something a bad guy would use to hypnotize someone in a cartoon. 

Without any other instructions, Lacey decided to stand in the middle of the circle. She waited, at the point where black and white met and disappeared into each other.

Mayor Mills stayed at her desk. After a few more signatures, she set her pen down in a drawer and began to stack the papers neatly into a shiny black file folder. So she was meticulous. Lacey could appreciate that. 

She kept waiting. The mayor didn’t look at her until the desk--a white slab of polished stone set on top of two carved stone pillars--was empty. 

“You were seven minutes early,” she said at last. 

Lacey swallowed and kept her hands at her sides. “Mr. Gold says that punctuality is the virtue of princes, Madame Mayor.”

One perfectly outlined, jet-black eyebrow raised on Mayor Mills’ forehead. “Mrs. Gold, if you’re looking for a prince, I don’t think I can be of any help to you.”

Would it be okay to laugh? Or would Mayor Mills think that was impertinent? Lacey just pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Do you want to tell me what you are looking for, Mrs. Gold?” 

Now she opened her mouth, but she didn’t have the words to answer.

Rumple. Rumple, help me! Rumple!

“R--r--really, I… I don’t know if I can put it into words, Madame Mayor.”

Mayor Mills gave her a considering look. She stayed at her desk, but leaned back in her black leather office chair. “Sit down.”

Two black and silver chairs sat in front of the desk. Lacey put her purse down in one and perched on the edge of the other. 

“Would you like something to eat?” Standing up, Mayor Mills went to the conference table that took up most of the space on the right-hand side of the room. A large white bowl--ceramic, and shaped so that it looked like a collection of bleached, dead coral--was full of apples. All of them were as red as blood. The mayor took two and held one out to Lacey. “I often find that when I need to think, one of my prize-winning Honeycrisp apples always helps me focus on what’s most important.”

Lacey took the apple and held it in her hands. If she had seen this in a grocery store, she would have sworn that it was a Red Delicious. But of course the mayor would know her own apples. She had grown apples since she was a little girl. The tree that grew these ones was right outside the window behind the desk. 

“Are you going to thank me?” The mayor was quiet, but it was the quiet of a viper about to strike.

“Yes,” Lacey said automatically. “Yes, I’m so sorry, Madame Mayor. Thank you for the apple. And for your time. I--I know you’re busy.”

“I am,” Mayor Mills agreed. Behind her desk, she pulled open a drawer and took out a silver knife. There was a design carved into the handle, Lacey couldn’t tell if it was an apple or a heart. After walking back to the front of the desk and leaning against the edge, the mayor began to cut into her apple. “There’s a lot of trouble brewing right now in Storybrooke. But I’ll make time for you, Mrs. Gold.”

“Why?” Lacey muttered. “I’m just a cheap, trashy slut.”

Grinning, the mayor took a slice of her apple. She chewed, swallowed, licked the juice off her red lips. “Is that what Mr. Gold told you to think of yourself?”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking down at the apple in her lap. She had said the words before to people, said them with a smile, like they were an honor. She had puffed up her own performance like a balloon. Only now she had popped, and there was nothing left of her but tattered shreds of rubber. 

Lacey felt something cold on the bottom of her chin. Mayor Mills held the flat edge of the knife against her skin and lifted her gaze until they were eye to eye. Sitting down, she was looking up at the mayor.  “Is Mr. Gold in charge of you, dear?”

She blinked. “I--He was. But I don’t want him to be anymore.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes.” Lacey wanted to look down again, but the mayor hadn’t released her yet. “He--he cheated on me. And he’s been keeping secrets from me. And--and he’s just different, I don’t know how to explain it, but I hate it. I hate it, Madame Mayor!”

Mayor Mills took the knife away, and cut herself another slice of apple. She smiled. “He’s not the man you married.” She seemed almost smug to say it. “So now you’re looking for someone who can take his place. Someone who can remind you of why you were put in this world.” 

“Yes!” Absurdly, Lacey felt her eyes begin to well with tears. Those were the words she had been looking for! She had been so right to come here. Mayor Mills knew exactly how to make everything right again! “I--I hope you’re not offended or anything. That I thought of you first when I wanted to find someone who would--would treat me the way I like to be treated.”

“The way you deserve to be treated, you mean.” Her voice was so low, so dark and so dangerous. “You cheap, trashy slut.”

It was like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and she was just perverted enough to love it. Repeating the same words that had just caused her shame, rubbing them in her face. This was exactly the kind of pain she had been looking for. Mayor Mills was brilliant.

She wanted to kiss her boots.

Lacey looked up at the mayor, at the way her crimson dress clung to her curves. Her silhouette was an absolute hourglass, tapering down into legs wrapped in tasteful nylons. So much classier than Lacey’s whorish fishnet stockings. 

Mayor Mills’ eyes were dark and intense. Black, where Mr. Gold’s were brown. Her makeup was dramatic but flawless. Her lips were as red as the apple she was eating, her teeth as white as its flesh.

Lacey had never felt so small before, not in front of another woman. Not in front of anyone but Mr. Gold. She looked down. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper, a breath. “What can I do? In order to deserve you?”

The mayor’s laugh was rich and throaty. It sounded like red wine at a midnight feast. She set down her apple and her silver knife and held Lacey firmly by the jaw with her own silky-smooth hands.

“Let’s make sure we understand one another, Mrs. Gold: You don’t deserve me. You can’t deserve me. Nothing you could ever do would be enough to get you even close to my level. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Lacey whispered. She couldn’t move. Fear and arousal were too overpowering. “Yes, Madame Mayor.”

“Good.” She took her hand away and went behind her desk. “You know, you’re actually a very lucky girl. Until quite recently, I was content with the submissive I had. But then he… disappointed me, and we had to part ways.”

You killed that poor man, you vile--

“So!” Lacey said, too loudly. “Are we agreed then? Will you take me on as a ‘submissive’?”

Mayor Mills looked at her from her office chair. Her gaze was steady and unblinking. “Do you think you can submit to me? Even though I’m not your husband?”

“Yes,” she said. “At least, I’d like to try.”

“Have you ever served a woman before, dear?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “No, of course you haven’t, not properly. Well, I’ll warn you, we’re not like men. We’re not easy. There’s no one-and-done climax while you lie back and think of England.”

Lacey opened her mouth. Her instinct was to defend Mr. Gold, to say that sex with him had never been like that. But that wasn’t anything Mayor Mills wanted to hear. 

“I’m going to demand a lot more of you than a man would,” the mayor went on. “I’m not satisfied by anything but perfection. And the cocks I use never go soft.”

She shifted in her seat. Were these threats or promises? “I would like to satisfy you, Madame Mayor,” she said softly. “I would like to please you.”

The mayor smiled again. “Of course you would,” she purred. “I think everyone in this town understands the benefits of having a happy mayor.” Her eyes flickered over Lacey’s body. “Are you wearing anything underneath that ugly skirt?”

 A flash of heat went through her body. Partially it was the shock and pleasure at the sudden shift in the conversation. But there was also a bit of embarrassment. Lacey liked this skirt--black vinyl with blue tulle ruffles underneath. Was it really ugly?

“Well?” Mayor Mills said patiently.

“Oh! I--yes. A thong. It’s purple, like my bustier.”

“Mmm.” The mayor smiled like a cat with a bluebird in its paw. “Well, that I simply must see.”

Lacey sprang to her feet. She moved to unzip the tight skirt, but then she got an idea. “May I take off my blouse as well?”

“Oh, if you insist.” Leaning back in her chair, the mayor picked up her knife and cut off another slice of apple. She ate it, while Lacey stripped down to her lingerie and folded her clothes neatly on the conference table. 

Then she stood in the center of the circle again, in front of the mayor’s desk, wearing nothing but purple silk, black lace, high heels, and jewelry. 

Looking at her, Mayor Mills crunched into the last bite of her apple, then threw the core into the trash. 

“Turn around,” she ordered. “Slowly.”

Lacey obeyed. God, this was amazing. Under the mayor’s scrutiny, every inch of her felt alive. This was what she was made for. This was the reason she existed in this world.

“You're groomed, at least. And it looks like you have some marks,” the mayor said coolly. “Am I safe in assuming they’re not recent?”

“No--I mean yes. They are not recent. Mr. Gold hasn’t touched me since October.”

“I imagine that would be frustrating,” she smirked. “For both of you. Come closer.”

Lacey stood directly in front of the desk. It was like she was here on official business, like she was going to ask for funding to re-open the library or something.

“Bend over, with your elbows on the desk. Lean forward until that pert little ass of yours sticks up in the air like a bitch in heat. I’m sure you’re familiar with the position. Keep your head up, but your eyes lowered. Don’t look at me.”

She did the best she could, remembering that the mayor was only satisfied by perfection. Once she was settled into place, she kept her eyes downcast. Her head was spinning. For some reason, it was hard to breathe. 

Then Lacey felt the mayor’s hands on her throat. 

She gulped,  but didn’t move. Do the brave thing. And it wasn’t that she was afraid of Mayor Mills. But the movement had been so sudden, so unexpected that it caught her off guard. And the mayor did have a very tight grip.

Her hands weren’t cold, but Lacey would have been hard-pressed to call the touch warm. A better word would have been to call the touch… proprietary. Appraising. She was inspecting the goods before she made a claim on them. 

Obediently, Lacey kept her eyes down while the mayor touched her. She couldn’t see her face. She heard her chuckle as her fingers explored the skin of her neck. 

“All these little scars here look like you lost a fight with a rose bush. How did you get them?”

You gave them to me, you bitch! You and your dragon! She made thorns grow into my skin while you made me fuck you!

“I don’t remember,” Lacey said. Honestly, she didn’t remember having scars on her throat. “I don’t think Mr. Gold gave them to me.”

“Hmm.” Despite Lacey’s ignorance, Mayor Mills sounded pleased. Her hand moved from Lacey’s neck down to the upper edge of her bustier. There was enough space between the cloth and Lacey’s skin that the mayor could have slid inside and copped a feel. But all she did was trace her fingers over the mounds of cleavage and pinch.

“Ow!” Lacey yelped, but stayed braced against the desk. It was a little shameful how quickly she reacted. But a sharp pinch could hurt more than a spanking and she was out of practice. Besides, Mr. Gold always liked her to be vocal. He liked to know exactly how much pain he was causing.  

The mayor rubbed at the sore patch of skin and gradually expanded her touch so that she cupped the whole of Lacey’s breast. 

“Oh poor thing,” she cooed. “I’m just surprised to see that they’re real. Of course, it would be a waste of Mr. Gold’s money if you paid for tits and these were the best you got.” 

The mayor emphasized her words with a sharp twist, digging her long nails into the soft flesh.

Lacey gasped in pain. The heat of it started at the mayor’s hand, coursed through all the nerves in her body, and eventually settled between her legs. The gasp turned into a whine, and then a moan.

“Good girl,” Mayor Mills said quietly. “But remember, slut, this is a public building. I can’t have you defiling these hallowed halls with your grunts and groans. You disgusting animal.”

Pressing her lips together, Lacey tried to swallow her hungry noises. 

“Ugh.” She could imagine the mayor rolling her eyes. She could imagine the disdain, the contempt on her face. Lacey was so worthless. And now she had finally found someone who understood that she was worthless, who would treat her like she was worthless.

God, she was so wet.

“Here.” The mayor took Lacey’s apple from where she had set it down earlier. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you refusing to eat this. That was exceptionally rude. Ungrateful, even. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s ingratitude.” 

“I’m sor--” She began to apologize, but as soon as her mouth opened, Mayor Mills had shoved in the apple. Lacey’s teeth broke through the red skin and she tasted the sour-sweet juice on her tongue. After only a moment of having the apple in her mouth, she felt the juice dripping down onto her chin. It mingled with her saliva and made her a slobbery mess. 

“Better.” Now Mayor Mills’ voice was gentle, sweet. She was happy. It was good to make her happy. 

Lacey heard her footsteps move around the desk. She couldn’t see the mayor, and she couldn’t make any noise. Apple flooded her senses of taste and smell. All she could do was hear. And feel.

The mayor was behind her. Manicured nails scraped at the exposed flesh of Lacey’s ass. She would have made a noise, to show how much her body liked the attention, but the apple was an excellent gag.

“You know, I can smell how wet you are, you tramp.” Her hands rested on either one of Lacey’s hips. “You stink. You’re filthy. You’re a disgrace.”

Unable to moan, Lacey shivered. Her hips rocked against the desk for a minute, until Mayor Mills dug her nails in and she stopped. 

“Why do you even wear panties?” She plucked at the straps of her thong. “You always soak right through them. Every time I walk by you, you reek of pussy. You needy, greedy little cunt.”

She couldn’t stop herself. She jerked up, pushed against the desk in a desperate search for any kind of friction. 

“Wriggling like a worm,” the mayor sneered. “You’re not even really a person, are you? You’re just a sex machine, like a junkie looking for a fix. You’re nothing but your need. Just a trio of fuckholes, desperate to be filled.” 

When had Lacey started crying? She was bent face down on the empty desk. The apple in her mouth was the only thing that kept her face from pressing against the cold stone. Her hands were balled into fists on either side of her. She didn’t dare move her arms.

Everything the mayor had said echoed in her mind until she felt the vibrations of the words in her body. Her flesh trembled and shook. Her cunt clenched and it didn’t matter that it had nothing to clench against. She just wanted. Her body wanted...  

“Don’t you dare!” Mayor Mills roared. “I forbid you to come. Don’t you--”

But then there was silence.

Desperate to obey, Lacey tried to stop her orgasm. She had done that often for Mr. Gold. There was a trick to it--pretty much the same thing as stopping yourself from having hiccups. As her body calmed, she became aware that Mayor Mills hadn’t spoken. 

Then she became aware of a breeze swishing back and forth over her nearly-bare ass. It was like when Mr. Gold would pretend to spank her, just to see her jump. He would laugh at that. But Mayor Mills didn’t seem to find it amusing at all. 

“What the hell?” 

Even without seeing her, Lacey could tell that Mayor Mills was clenching her jaw. Again and again, she felt the breeze of phantom spankings. Did the mayor not want to spank her? What was going on? 

“Hands flat on the desk!” the mayor barked. “Let me see your fucking wrists!” 

Her wrists? Why? But Lacey did as she was told. Gracelessly, the mayor pulled on her hands. She turned them around and examined them. While she was distracted, Lacey dared to look up at Mayor Mills. 

She was livid. Her breath came out in huffs and her red lips snarled around bared teeth. Suddenly, she slapped her right hand beside Lacey’s left. 

“This ring,” she hissed. “That’s your wedding ring, isn’t it?”

Lacey lifted her mouth off the apple and nodded. 

Mayor Mills looked angry enough to burst into flames. “Take. It. Off!”  

Hands shaking, Lacey tried to obey. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken off her wedding ring. Mr. Gold had wanted her to wear it day and night. But what the fuck did Mr. Gold matter now?

When the ring was off, she set it on the desk next to the gnawed apple. She stood at attention, with her eyes downcast. 

The mayor took the ring and held it between her thumb and forefinger. She looked at it, and shook her head. 

“Unbelievable.” 

Yes, it was unbelievable that Lacey would go to a seduction still wearing her wedding ring. What a stupid whore she was. Thoughtless. Sloppy. Ungrateful. 

Mayor Mills tossed the ring back down on the desk, like touching it made her sick. Then she stood up again.

“Let’s try something else.”

For a moment, her anger had abated. Her hips swayed softly as she walked over to Lacey. Gently, she put one hand on Lacey’s neck, and cupped her cheek with the other. She tilted her head back. 

Lacey closed her eyes and parted her lips--but nothing happened. The mayor’s hands moved away. After another moment, Lacey opened her eyes. 

Mayor Mills had one hand extended toward Lacey’s face. It was flat and open, like she was about to slap her. But she wasn’t. She hadn’t. Aside from some pinching, Regina hadn’t been able to do anything to her.

Rumple, you genius!   

When Lacey caught the mayor’s eye, she started and looked away. Without a word, Mayor Mills walked over to the other side of the room. There was a cabinet by the fireplace, from which she pulled out a bottle and a glass.

Her back to Lacey the whole time, the mayor poured out a measure of clear alcohol and drank it in one gulp. Then she took a deep breath. 

Then she turned around. 

“Mrs. Gold, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to continue this relationship.” She gave a bittersweet smile. “You see, unlike some people in this town, I value marriage. I couldn’t possibly engage in an affair with a married woman.”

“What?” Lacey’s voice cracked. “No, you can’t mean that! I-- Mr. Gold isn’t taking care of me anymore. Our marriage is dead! I--I need you, Madame Mayor!”  

“And you can never know how happy I am to hear you say those things, dear. But the facts are facts--as long as you’re married to your husband, I can’t touch you. Not in any way that matters, at least.”

“Fuck.” Lacey put her hand over her mouth. “Oh fuck, Madame Mayor. I--I really need this, you know?”

“I know,” she nodded. She went over to the conference table and picked up the stack of Lacey’s clothes. She held them out to her. “And I am truly sorry that I won’t get to punish you the way you deserve. But this is how it has to be.” She turned back to her desk.

“Wait!” Lacey clutched her clothes to her chest. “You--you’re just doing this because I’m married, right?”

The mayor nodded again. She had pulled out a paper towel from a desk drawer and was wiping up Lacey’s spit and apple juice. 

“Well, what if--what if I left him? What if we got a divorce?”

Mayor Mills stopped cleaning mid-wipe. For the first time in a while, she looked Lacey in the eye. “Divorces can be messy. They can take a long time. I thought your issue was more pressing than that.”

“I--I don’t know what else to do, Madame Mayor.” Dumping her clothes on a chair, she got on her knees in front of the desk. “You’re right, I do need what you can give me. I need it now, and I’ll do anything to get it!”

She smiled. A light shone in her black eyes. “Anything?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Hmm.” The mayor stood. She began to walk around Lacey in a slow circle. “Well, my point still stands. I simply can’t do anything worthwhile to you while you’re married to Mr. Gold.”

Lacey opened her mouth to beg again, but Mayor Mills lifted a finger and she fell silent.

“And, as we’ve established, a divorce might take a while to finalize. Especially with your husband’s thorough approach to contracts. So I suppose I’m forced to meet you halfway. I’ll just need some proof that your marriage is dead.”

Lacey licked her lips. “Proof?”

“Yes.” When her circle was complete, Mayor Mills was in front of her desk again. The golden ring was still on the surface. She picked it up and handed it out to Lacey. 

It was a bizarre reverse-proposal. Lacey was the one on her knees. The mayor was giving her her own ring back to her, in exchange for a promise to end a marriage.    

“This is part of a matched set, isn’t it?” she asked. “It’s useless on its own. Your husband wears the other one?”

Lacey nodded. 

“Alright,” Mayor Mills said. “So in order for me to have you, I’ll need both of them.”

“What?” Lacey felt her eyes going wide. “You want me to take Mr. Gold’s wedding ring?”

The mayor shrugged. “If your marriage is as dead as you say, he won’t miss it. If it isn’t, then, well, I have no power over you.”

“No.” Scrambling to her feet, Lacey took the ring from the mayor’s hand. “No, I want you to have power over me. I really do!”

A knowing, full-lipped smile. “There’s not much that would make me happier than having absolute power over you, dear. And it will happen, just as soon as I have both of your wedding rings.”

“It will,” Lacey nodded. “I’ll make it happen. I won’t disappoint you, Madame Mayor!”  

[peachy-beomie]

Yellow <TAEGYU>

Genre: Light Angst

Pairings: Taegyu (Kang Taehyun x Choi Beomgyu)

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: None!

Synopsis: In a world where you cant see color until you meet your soulmate, Kang Taehyun lives his life in monochrome. He’s never experienced color. But one particular boy makes him realize that maybe color isn’t all about what you see.

A/N: This is one of my FAVORITE ideas I’ve ever come up with. It was intended to be much longer but I struggled to write the whole thing and this actually turned out really good! I might write a second part so maybe be on the lookout for that 👀

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409198

Taehyun’s POV

People tend to take for granted that which they have no fear of losing. Things so constant and ordinary in life, like hope and freedom. But some people are not blessed with the luxuries of consistency, and even those who are can learn just how quickly things can be ripped away. In this world of soulmates and colorless lives, people learn very quickly to cherish what they have.

Color, a word which here means: varying pigments and shades; is a concept unknown to me, as it is to many others. Everyone has a soulmate, our ‘perfect match’ or ‘other half’, the person who will complete us. It’s said that when you and your soulmate first lock eyes, the world explodes with colors, vibrant and dazzling. My parents used to tell me stories of blazing sunsets that would leave them breathless, and of endless fields filled to the brim with flowers who’s hues outmatch the very sun. They talked on and on about colors, and they’d always tell me: “One day, you’ll see them too, with someone you’ll love more than life itself.” 

As a kid, I’d dream of meeting the person who’d make my world come alive with countless tones and hues. But as I grew up, I began to worry less about finding my soulmate, though I never stopped dreaming of a world beyond the monochrome I’m all too familiar with. 

And as I’m sitting at my desk at 3 am, nose buried deep in the history texts I’m memorizing, color, soulmates, and all their mystery are the last thing on my mind. 

Nonetheless, my thoughts are interrupted by the pale white light of my screen revealing a text from Choi Beomgyu, my best friend.

3:48 a.m.

gyu the annoying hyung

are you awake?

i can’t sleep

baehyun

why?

gyu the annoying hyung

just thinking too much. you?

baehyun

homework. are you ok?

gyu the annoying hyung

it’s nothin hyunnie-bunny don’t worry your pretty lil head about it :)

Ignoring the slight flutter of my stomach at the nickname (and the fact he called me pretty), I continue to mull over Beomgyu’s texts. Despite his protests, I can’t help but worry a little bit. Beomgyu is the least sad person I’ve ever met, always full of ear splitting grins and melodious giggles. It’s what makes him so endearing. The warmth of his smile, and the brightness in his eyes, it’s unmatched in its beauty and splendor. I have never met anyone as refreshingly themself. Beomgyu lives as though he has nothing to hide, and no shame to carry.

baehyun

you cannot stop me, i will worry if i want to.

gyu the annoying hyung

well if you’re going to worry anyway, can you at least come over?

please?

I can practically see Beomgyu’s pouty face and puppy eyes through the screen. I sigh almost defeatedly, knowing instantly I’ll never be able to say no to the charming boy.

baehyun

you’re lucky we’re friends

gyu the annoying hyung

love you toooooo <3

I groan lightly as I grab my coat and exit the building. It’s not like his apartment is too far away, only about a 10-minute walk from my own. I quite enjoy the serenity of the streets at 4 am. It’s quiet, save the soft bustling of stray cars, the cool air wafts towards me in light bursts. I take in the city and all its wonders, giving into the quiet mystery.

It should be odd that I gave into Beomgyu’s requests so easily, but truthfully this is just habitual at this point. Even though we’ve only known each other a couple months, we’ve fallen into an easy routine. Friendship with Beomgyu is just that: easy. He makes me feel comfortable

My phone buzzes sharply in my pocket.

gyu the annoying hyung

hurry uppppp >:(

I giggle quietly at his impatience but quicken my pace all the same.

Upon arriving at Beomgyu’s door I only get to knock once before Beomgyu appears before me, grabs my hand, and walks pointedly out the door with me in tow.

“Beomgyu wha-” I try to ask as I’m dragged to the stairs. I’m met with no answer .as we trudge up the narrow stairway to the roof. As we burst through the door, the crisp night air envelops us. Beomgyu calmly walks towards a desolate corner of the wide expanse of roof and motions for me to follow.

“Come stargaze with me,” he says as he lays down to look at the sky. I take my place beside him and stare at the stars. I’ve never been good at astrology but I can spot a few constellations. Andromeda, Orion, and Cassiopeia smile down at me from their perch up in the boundless night. It’s calming, finding the constellations. Knowing each star has a purpose, instead of just being placed in the sky at random. I imagine I’m one of those stars, lost in the infinite infinity of space. I think about how I too will find my constellation, my purpose, my home, and I’m placated by this knowledge. 

Beomgyu and I sit like this for what feels like hours, comfortably silent; aware of each other’s presence without really acknowledging it. This is one of the best things about Beomgyu and me: though we talk consistently, we don’t need to say or do anything to feel comfortable with each other. 

Beomgyu is the first to break our silence. 

“The stars remind me a lot of my soulmate.” I turn my head sharply to face him, ignoring the way my stomach sinks at this news.

“You’ve found your soulmate?” Beomgyu nods quietly.

“Yeah, a long time ago. His name was Zhong Chenle. He loved astronomy and he’d always make me come out to view the stars with him,” Beomgyu smiles slightly at the memory. “I met him when we were kids. He was so bright and energetic, he used to bounce around a lot because he just couldn’t sit still. He made the whole world seem less dull. Not only because I could see colors, but his existence simply made me happier. He was like the sun in my universe. But then-” Beomgyu hesitates, tears falling silently from dejected eyes onto tanned cheeks. I grab his hand and give it a light squeeze, trying my best to let him know that I’m here and it’s okay. He stutters a bit before continuing, “It didn’t happen all at once, but the colors just began fading. First the yellows, then reds, each one dissipated until I was only left with black and white. I tried calling his house for hours but got no response. Finally, his mom called me, in tears, saying that he and his father had been in a car accident. His father sustained a lot of injuries, but Chenle died before they even arrived at the hospital.” Tears are now streaming down Beomgyu’s cheeks. He closes his eyes tightly as if it’s all too much. My thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of his hand.

“The worst part,” he says suddenly. “...is that later I realized his favorite colors were the first to go, as if his soul had died before his body even gave out.” Beomgyu looks at me, and my heart just breaks. He looks so empty. I open my arms for him and he all but jumps into them, burying his head in my chest. I feel his tears soaking through the fabric.

The quiet returns after that, but this time it’s far less comfortable. I try my best to comfort Beomgyu as he sobs into my chest. I feel each light gasp he takes as he struggles for air. His body shakes like a leaf and his fists curl tightly in the fabric of my black sweater.

I eventually hear his breathing steady and I pull away to look at his face. His cheeks shine from leftover tears, but his eyes shine brightly in the dim starlight. A strange warm feeling nestles itself in my chest, and I find myself at a complete loss for words. 

Beomgyu pulls away and returns his gaze to the stars. My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I continue to struggle for words.

“I’m sorry.” I blurt out because it seems like the only fitting thing to say. Beomgyu smiles at me, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually does.

“It’s okay. I miss him, and I’ll always love him, but I have you now. You make life brighter, despite the greys and blacks. You make me happier than you could ever know.” I look down, hoping he won’t notice the blush on my cheeks.

“You do the same for me you know,” I meet his eyes. “You make me happy too. I’ve never met someone who can make me laugh like you can.” He smiles again, a little wider this time, and it makes my heart flutter.

“Do you miss seeing color?” I ask suddenly.

Beomgyu shakes his head almost immediately. “Not really. Colors were cool and all, but they’re just superficial. I think the world can be beautiful in black and white, you just need to look for the hidden wonder.”

“Did you have a favorite?” Beomgyu chuckles.

“Yellow,” He states simply. But noticing my confusion. “It’s a lighter color, the color of the sun actually. But to me, it means warmth and safety. Yellow is like laughter and smiles with friends or a happy ending. Yellow is simply: happiness and light.” 

I spend the rest of the night pondering Beomgyu’s words. They resonate within me as we return to our comfortable silence. They continue to fill my brain even as I hug Beomgyu goodbye at 5 am, they remain while I walk home, and they’re still bouncing around in my head as I climb into bed back at my apartment.

I’m still thinking them over when I hear my phone buzz on my bedside table.

gyu the annoying hyung

thank you for being here with me. you’re truly a blessing kim taehyun, i hope you know that.

That simply text ignites a new and unfamiliar feeling in my body, one I couldn’t begin to describe. It starts in my toes and gradually moves up until each part of my body is engrossed with this strange new sensation. It wraps my bones in warmth and slithers it’s way into my stomach making butterflies erupt inside of me. It continues to my heart making it beat slightly faster in the best way possible. It fills my lungs with air much fresher than any I’ve ever inhaled. When it finally reaches the top of my head, my body is relishing in this amazing feeling. My senses are alive with wonder and lust and I just keep wanting more and more and more and more. I try and try to think of what this feeling is but all I can think of is: yellow.

TAEGYU PIC OF THE DAY:

The only taegyu pic ever 😌✨

[haberdashing]

Rough Turf On The Coast

One possible reunion between Jon and Martin post-186.

on AO3

There were a lot of reasons Jon was less than pleased as he made his way slowly but surely through the current domain.

One was that the fear of being forgotten, of suffering and struggling without anyone ever knowing about it, was a fear that Jon himself knew all too well, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if things had been different, if he had been Watched instead of Watcher, this might well have been where he was sent to suffer.

Another was that he couldn’t see the (actual) victims in this domain, couldn’t tell their stories as he had told so many others, and a part of him that only grew greater as time went by was frustrated by this above all else, wanting to know (to Know) what befell them even if someone else knowing of the victims’ particular torments would entirely defeat the point.

There was also the fact that the place was just... dreary. It wasn’t horrifying or gory, like so many of the other domains had been, but the steady rain and ever-present fog, the way colors faded into monochrome in the distance, the wide open spaces... it was all rather depressing, really. Not a huge surprise, given the connection to the Lonely, but it did lead to the whole area seeming awfully somber, a strange weight seeming to hang over Jon’s head as he did his best to make his way through.

But mostly it was because Martin wasn’t by Jon’s side. Martin had only disappeared from Jon’s view once before, in a domain of the Lonely that Jon did not like thinking about, and though Jon knew logically that this wasn’t the same, he still kept thinking of how Martin had gone through so much there, how so much of who he was had been stripped away from him before he had managed to shake it off and escape.

This was different, though. This was Martin’s domain. Jon felt like this should be a comfort of sorts, but it really wasn’t. Perhaps his fear that Martin would become just another victim was alleviated, sure, but in its place came twin fears: the fear that Martin either was still struggling to cope with the fact that he had his own domain, that he was as much avatar as human now, without Jon by his side to help him talk through things... or the fear of the exact opposite, that Martin was getting used to how things were now after all, that he might very well accept his place in this new world and leave Jon to go on alone.

So when Jon saw a figure in the distance, a figure that he couldn’t see that clearly through the fog but certainly looked to resemble Martin in shape and size, Jon didn’t hesitate.

“Martin?”

“Jon!” came the reply, excited and enthusiastic and clearly in Martin’s voice.

Jon picked up his pace, running as fast as he could (which wasn’t very, honestly, even with his cane to help carry the burden and make up for the dull ache of his bad leg), and Martin came running towards Jon at a similar speed.

They met in the middle (had the fog receded a bit, the rain lightened into a drizzle, or was that just Jon’s imagination?) and Jon slowed to a halt as he approached, taking his time to appreciate the opportunity to look upon Martin again, to take in the sight and presence of the one he loved most. It was him, it was really him-

And Martin wasn’t slowing down, at least not the same way Jon did. Before Jon knew it, he was being picked up bodily by Martin, grabbed and pulled into a fierce embrace with Martin lifting him up such that Jon’s feet no longer brushed against the soft, marshy ground.

Jon thought briefly about making a comment about how easy he obviously was for Martin to pick up, but as Jon considered whether now was really the right time for a wisecrack Martin bent him over, dipping him in- in a ridiculous position, really, like something out of a romance novel, but then, Martin always was the romantic, whether hopeless or hopeful...

Then their lips made contact, and suddenly Jon couldn’t think about much else.

They’d kissed before, of course, but something about this kiss was different. There was an energy to it, an energy to Martin, that was made clear through physicality in a way words could never do justice to. There was neither the struggle nor the resignation that Jon had feared, just a forthright strength in the way Martin didn’t hesitate before their mouths connected, tongues embracing tongues just as their arms were still embracing one another as well.

(Jon tried to ignore how Martin’s tongue tasted faintly of rain.)

There was no way of telling how long the kiss lasted, of course, no watches to keep track or natural ways to tell time in a place so unnatural, but it was long enough that Jon felt himself going a bit lightheaded before realizing that he hadn’t been breathing, that unless he was going to break up the kiss (which he very much did not want to do) he would simply have to breathe through his nose instead.

(Martin didn’t smell like much of anything Jon could name, not the floral-scented shampoo of Upton House or the lingering odor of the hospital, but he smelled like Martin, and that was what was most important.)

Another moment that might have lasted a few seconds or several minutes passed before their lips finally separated and Martin set Jon upright again, placing him gently back on the ground. (Jon considered voicing a few comments related to this as well, but swallowed the words instead; this moment was precious, he could feel that much, and he didn’t want to risk sullying it.)

“It’s really good to see you.” Martin said in a voice that sounded about as out of breath as Jon felt. “We were starting to worry that something had happened to you.”

Jon opened his mouth initially with the intention of sharing similar thoughts, of saying how wonderful it was to see Martin again, especially since he seemed to be in good spirits, but before he could settle on a fitting platitude his brain caught up with something more important that Martin had just said and fixed on that instead.

“Wait. ‘We’?”

Martin wordlessly pointed behind him, where...

Where Martin was running towards the two of them.

The two Martins looked identical--they had the same clothing, the same hairstyle, the same freckles in all the same spots, and both were sopping wet from the still-falling rain and solid enough to leave soft imprints in the gray grass beneath them as they stepped on it.

The Martin that was further behind looked at Jon with a strange expression on his face... and the Martin next to Jon, the Martin that he had just kissed, wobbled and wavered before dissolving into nothing but more fog.

Jon walked closer to the remaining Martin, but before making any rash moves... well, he had to be sure. “Who are you?”

“Martin Blackwood, your boyfriend... and ruler of this domain.” Martin’s voice sounded slightly clipped, slightly flat, without the energy he’d felt from the other Martin before.

Jon gestured to where the other Martin had been only moments before. “And that was...?”

“Also Martin.” The way Martin said it made the term seem as much moniker as description, like Not-Sasha, a being that could only be named by its relationship to someone else. “But more... open, I suppose?”

"I... I thought that was you.” Jon couldn’t meet Martin’s gaze, looking instead at a patch of gray grass that was nigh-indistinguishable from any other patch of gray grass. “I thought I was kissing you.”

“He is me, sort of. It’s complicated. Don’t...” Martin shook his head. “Don’t worry about it."

“If you say so.” Jon’s voice sounded about as convinced as he was, which was not very. Jon still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Martin again.

“Look, I was suspicious of him too at first, but he is me. He just... gave me someone to talk my thoughts out with. Talking to yourself is underrated, really.” Martin laughed a bit at his own joke, and though the laughter seemed hollow, Jon was still heartened to hear the sound.

“I suppose you would know better than I would.” Jon said, a hint of a sigh in his voice as he added, turning his eyes back towards Martin’s own as he spoke, “I can’t get much of a read on this place myself.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“I know, I know.”

“Of course you know.”

This time, Jon joined Martin in softly laughing at Martin’s wordplay.

“So if that’s you, just more open... you really were getting worried about me, then?”

Martin nodded, and Jon noticed for the first time that the water gathering around his eyes didn’t look to be just the rain.

“And you really wanted to...” Jon gestured vaguely to indicate the rest of what Also Martin had done.

Martin blushed, the pink hue gathering on his face a striking difference from their monochrome surroundings. “I mean... sort of? It, it was probably a bit much-”

Jon shook his head. “I mean, if that’s what you want, I’m not opposed...”

“Honestly, I’m afraid I might break your back if I try that stunt again.”

“’That stunt’ meaning the, the-”

“Dipping?”

“Right.”

“But as for the rest of it... well, I’m game for a second shot at it if you are.”

(This time, Jon noted, Martin’s tongue tasted strongly of oolong.)

[joy1579]

a starry night (jumin x artist MC)

a teeny tiny ficlet I wrote this afternoon because i didn't feel well and spent all day in bed which meant i didn't have time to do the head canons i wanted. but i said i wanted to upload something everyday so i was determined to do something. now i need advil. hope you all enjoy!!

MC doesn't feel at home in the penthouse so she decides to add a personal touch in the form of a mural on the living room wall. Jumin appreciate her effort.

this is 1250 words of fluff. its straight sugary sweet fluff and romance, like it implies something once but that’s it.

The penthouse still didn’t feel like home after the wedding. You stood in the living room hand on your hips as you surveyed the pristine white walls.

“even the art is monochrome” You sigh. You swore you would go insane if you didn’t add some kind of color to the room. “Elizabeth? What do you think? Doesn’t it need some color, and maybe some shelves for you to climb?” you ask as the Persian cat sat to your left surveying your soon to be canvas. Stooping to scoop the blue eyed beauty from the floor you smiled. “let’s surprise daddy shall we? I’ll ask if we can paint and decorate tonight but you and I have to keep the details a secret okay?” the cat mewled softly and tapped your hand with one of her free paws making you giggle at her confirmation of your pact.

That night Jumin came home late and you couldn’t wait to see him. You were practically bouncing as your husband put away his coat, hiding the sly smile that graced his lips as he took extra time to straighten his coat in the entry way closet. You tried not to groan as he slowly begins to remove his shoes.

“darling I know what you’re doing and it’s not fa- “you begin to whine but he cuts you off swiftly with the kiss you had been waiting for.

“I’m sorry my love. I couldn’t help myself.” He admits running his fingers through your long hair. “have you eaten? Should we get dinner?”

“oh no I haven’t eaten yet but first I have something big to ask” you say pulling him gently into the living room “honey bunny do you mind if I paint that wall?” you point to the wall in question which had already been stripped of what little decorations it had had on it that morning.

“darling I’ve already told you. this is your home you may decorate however you want, paint all the walls if you want” he chuckled

“I don’t need to paint all the walls. Just that one” you announced proudly extricating yourself from his arms to stand facing the wall planning out your new project. “I’ll go shopping tomorrow for everything I need. Oh I was thinking of setting up something for Elizabeth too. If that’s okay”

“of course my love. Have I ever told how beautiful you look when your planning things?” he said hooking an arm around your waist and spinning you to face him.

You laughed at that “you may have mentioned it” Of course he had. He had told you, you were beautiful so often you could have sworn it was carved in your soul at this point and yet, hearing him say it always made your heart jump.

“good.” his simple answer was low and sure as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and bent to capture your lips in a gently commanding kiss. You couldn’t help the satisfied hum that rose in your throat as your arms found their way around his neck. When you both pulled away it was in a mutual contentedness. “I’ll call the chef to prepare dinner. Would you care for a glass of wine on the balcony while we wait?”

“sound lovely. You call I’ll get the glasses and wine then meet you out there.” He hummed in agreement already pulling out his phone.

 Over the next few days you gathered paints and shelving to start your project. You would need a lot of paint for everything you had planned, and something to hang while it was being worked on so that it could stay a surprise for your husband. Once the painting was started you struggled a bit keeping Elizabeth the third out of trouble. The kitty seemed so intrigued but all the blues and golds you had amassed she couldn’t keep her paws of it, so that task fell to you. Slowly but surely though the wall came together and then something struck you. You had to add something. Something personal. That night Jumin noticed the loss of one of your wedding photos in the bedroom but you assured him you only need a reference and it would certainly be returned soon.

“am I to assume the mural you’ve been working so hard on is nearly done then” he asked while drying your hair after you two had shared a relaxing bath.

“so close. I think you’ll like. I hope you’ll like it anyway. Elizabeth seems excited to play with her part at the very least” you chuckled to yourself.

“I’m sure I’ll adore it. After all it was painted by my very favorite artist.” He murmured grazing his lips against your neck making you shudder.

“Jumin,” you sighed as you felt his teeth scrap against the junction of your neck and shoulder “I think its time for bed darling” you just barely managed before he swept your feet from under you to carry you bridal style towards the bedroom.

“absolutely.” He growled as he continued to nip and suck at your neck.

It was done. After nearly two weeks of work it was done. You couldn’t wait to show Jumin and judging by the clock he should be home any minute. So you collected your paints and locked them away in the studio Jumin had set up for you. You were putting away the last of the navy blue when you heard the door open. You dropped everything and ran to your love.

“HONEY BUNNY” you cried as you leapt at him. He caught you in his arms easily his smile wide and genuine. “I finished it. come on” you said excitedly. You pulled him towards the living room but paused and spun on your heels to face him. “close your eyes. Cover them. I’ll lead you don’t worry” and so you did. Leading the blind CEO along by the hand with gentle instructions as you situated directly in front of the wall. “okay. Look” you whispered standing behind him so he could see all of it.

Silence. Such silence it made you nervous. His face was unreadable, even to you with all your practice and you were sure he hated it.

Your rendition of Van Gogh’s starry night adorned the wall with only one alteration. The silhouetted peak that originally sat in the left foreground had been swapped for the silhouette of you and Jumins Wedding photo. You had spent so many days focused on the life size silhouette perhaps it was too much. Normally your husband didn’t know the meaning of moderation but you could understand if he thought you had marred a classical masterpiece with your change. You supposed you could repaint it, if he hated it that much. Though you would have to remove the small climbing shelves you had put in the major swirls of the piece for Elizabeth to jump between.

Just then you felt Jumin spin you and Kiss you fiercely. “never has anyone ever been so perfect as you my love” he muttered against your lips stealing your breath as he kissed you again. Your head was spinning from the affection as he pulled you tight against himself. “I love you, and I love your work.”

“you had me worried, with all your silence you meanie” you chastised him playfully and resting your head on his shoulder. “so it’s okay”

“it’s perfect”

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

Secret Baby ch 21

Kiyoko is sick for 3 days. It’s a stressful few days for Dabi. Checking her fever and timing when he can give her another dose of fever reducer. It stresses him out to the point of exhaustion, Kiyoko reacts to his anxiety and distress by crying harder and refusing to settle. Kiyoko finally calms down for longer than a couple hours when her fever finally breaks a few days later. Letting Dabi sleep for what he guesses to be a solid 10 hours. 

Shigaraki calls once as Kiyoko’s fever is peaking and she’s wailing in discomfort. Dabi sends him to voicemail and follows up with a short text about now not being a good time. Shigraki calls twice more afterwards so Dabi ends up silencing his phone. Later that night once he has Kiyoko tucked into her nest and is cleaning up he calls back. 

“Why the hell didn’t you answer me earlier?” Shigaraki’s voice rasps through the phone. Demanding and Dabi can’t help but think of his boss as childish. He had sent a text and promised to call back later in his defense, what kind of person expected you to drop everything when they called anyways? “Are you doing dishes or something? I thought you were going to call back when you weren’t doing anything.”

“I couldn’t come to the phone. Personal issues. I’m free to talk now, you’re just going to have to ignore the background noise Creep.” It feels weird letting his voice become deeper and rougher at home. Kiyoko is safe in her nest and asleep but he still feels nervous letting his something he uses for work into his home.

“Fine. There’s a meeting tomorrow, meeting the rest of the League mostly and stay for dinner this time.” Shigraki huffs after a moment of silence. He expects to be obeyed but doesn't hang up either, waiting for Dabi to agree.

“I can’t stay for some weird Villain dinner.” Dabi pauses. This is a larger group, he knows he has to play nice. At least he has to work with everyone enough that he doesn't get discarded. 

“Make it lunch so we’re not wasting time with shit. I’ve only got so much free time so you're just going to have to deal Boss.” Dabi shut off the faucet and stood up straight, cracking his spine and making him release a tired sigh. He didn’t have the energy for this, his family wouldn’t free himself though. He wanted to introduce Kiyoko to her aunt and uncles. He wants Rei to know she has a grandchild, wants her to move on and heal from all that enji has done to them. He wants to try with her at least, maybe with enji out of the picture things will be different between them. 

Shigaraki is silent on the other end of the line for a few minutes. The sound of some games' special effects coming through the line is the only thing that lets Dabi know that the call itself isn’t an issue.

“Well creep? You're going to have to give me more notice than this if you want us to work together. I don’t have a lot of time to myself already. I'm banking on you and this League you’ve started being worth it.” Dabi snags his baby monitor off the counter and steps outside to light up a cigarette. 

“Just show up crispy bastard. I’ll let everyone know and we’ll set up meeting times ahead now.” Shigaraki sniped at him but it was nicer than it could have been. “I hadn’t expected anyone who had other shit I guess.” Shigaraki hung up rudely, it would have been annoying but Dabi just rolled his eyes and put out his smoke. This better be worth it.

The next morning passes in a blur as he hauls his exhausted ass around the apartment. Kiyoko is bright eyed and happy again as she crawls around after him. Dabi moves from room to room cleaning and scenting as he goes. He leaves several windows open as he leaves, airing out the apartment. He’s had hardly any sleep and he’s relieved he set everything out the night before. The sitter had demanded an upcharge due to short notice but hopefully this is going to be the only time. Kiyoko hardly cries as he drops her off and the bus is on time for once, resulting in him being a few minutes earlier than he had expected.

There’s a green lump next to the door that he absent mindedly pats as he comes in the door and he uses it to steady himself as he kicks his boots clean of muck.  It gives an offended squawk making him jump. He mentally groans as he realizes what he’s done. The ‘green lump’ stands up and faces him with his arms crossed.

“Did you seriously just pet me? What the fuck dude?” The lizard guy confronts him, Dabi would take him seriously if he wasn't in a Stain cosplay. The guy is built and he has a large sword made of knives on his back. He smells of irritated beta and strangely enough coffee.

“I just saw a lump and didn’t realize it was a person. Sorry.” Dabi pulls his hand out of his pocket in case the guy decides to take his mistake out on him.

“I’m a person not a piece of furniture.” The guy scowls and his lips pull back to expose human looking teeth. “Whatever, don’t do it again. I’m Spinner.”

“You can call me Dabi.” The blue eyed omega nods at him but doesn't take the offered hand. He realizes he’s going to have to tell at least someone his name at some point. The rest of his history will have to come out as well but he wants to stay Dabi as long as he can.

Spinner gives him a sideways look but lets it slide. It figures he would, seeing as he also introduced himself with a Villain moniker rather than his actual name. Shigaraki is one of the only people who have wanted a legal name, at least the rest of his group won’t be following that pattern.

“Dabi! You finally came back! No one will let me drink their blood but It’s okay because I saw someone cute yesterday!” Toga comes around the corner and inserts herself into his space. Dabi listens to her ramble as he goes into the next room. Her hair is coming out of the buns on top of her head but her clothes look cleaner than when he last saw her.

“Toga, You left your cup in the kitchen.” A alpha woman with sunglasses perched on top of her red hair nearly runs into them as Toga leads him past the bar to what must be the kitchen. She smells strongly of alpha mixed with citrus. It’s bright and comforting in some odd way Dabi has never experienced before but it's not unpleasant.

Toga grabs the cup as she holds it out and slurps the red liquid in it. It's enclosed and she’s drinking it through a straw but Dabi’s still pretty sure it's blood.

“Who’s the goth hon?” She tilts her head at Dabi and has blocked the doorway to the kitchen. Large shoulders blocking the view and Dabi straightens up to look her in the eyes.

“Currently going by Dabi.” He puts a hand on Toga’s shoulder in case he has to pull her back again like when they met Shigaraki. “You going to let us pass and let me finish getting introduced?”

“You can call me big sis Magne.” She moves back and lets them into the room. “No last name there for you?”

“I’ll tell you when I have to. No family name for you either Magne?” Dabi lets Toga shrug him off and gives Magne another once over. It doesn't seem to be a touchy subject for her at least.

“Not one I use, legally it's stuck with my dead name still. Magne is what I go by and I just added Big sis for my villain moniker.” Whatever test she was giving him he seems to have passed. He was asking about the family name to poke around back at her. Instead he seems to have set the alpha at ease.

“Nah, Don’t like them much and the feeling is mutual.” she smirks at him and he can’t help but give a small smile back. He can already tell that she’s going to one of his favorites and she has a calming presence.

Toga gives another loud slurp, making so much noise due to how thick the liquid must be. She seems happy though so Dabi shoves the thought that it's gross to the back of his head.

At the table there’s a guy in a full body suit and mask, all monochrome colors, sitting at the table. Tea and books come with his light beta scent and Dabi is seriously starting to question why all these strangers smell so nice to him. Maybe it’s because he knows he will be with them for a while and his brain is trying to trick him into letting the arrangement be more permanent.

“Hey! Glad you got here safe! It’s about time you showed up, are you going to introduce yourself?” He speaks in two voices and Dabi is confused for a moment on which one he means until Toga holds up a finger to him. First voice then he guesses.

“Dabi. Nice enough to be here I guess.” He sits down across from him and the guy perks up.

“I’m Twice, Girans friend! Jin bubaigawara.” He holds out his hand and looks so hopeful that Dabi can’t help but shake it. This is the guy Giran had sent to check out the League?

“Nice to meet you I guess Jin.” He sits down, as a man in a bright orange coat walks in. Guess he wasn’t the last to arrive as he’d assumed. Then again some of the members seem to have taken up Kuroguri on the off to live here.

“Young Sir, you must be the last new member Shigaraki had been saying we would meet today.” He gives Dabi a bow and tips his tophat as Dabi blinks in surprise. The theatrical man pulls a bottle of sake and cups out of thin air.  He’s wearing scent blockers like Dabi, keeping his secondary gender to himself. “I’m Sako Atsuhiro. Mr.Compress works as well if you prefer to keep things professional.”

Mr.Compress cracks the seal on the bottle loudly before he pours, It’s been forever since Dabi let himself drink. First he was pregnant and then occasionally breast feeding and then he was just too busy to relax and unwind with a stiff drink. Compress had even made a show of breaking the seal, knowing they all didn’t trust each other yet. Dabi takes the glass with no intention of actually drinking it but finds himself relaxing and taking small sips. Mr. Compress shows off magic tricks and Twice is his interactive audience.

Kuroguri glides into the dining area right before Shigaraki and Spinner enter , Mr. Compress pulls out a chair for him and Dabi hides his grin behind his sake cup. Lunch passes quickly with a lot of questions aimed at everyone. Most of them Dabi declines to answer. He’s never planned to work with a group this long. Still he figures his usual rule of thumb, the less they know the better, will work just fine. Shigaraki who gets visibly upset and starts scratching respects it when he pasess on things such as a favorite food or game. Anything he can stomach and He dosen’t even have time for an idle game currently.

Kuroguri is asking him if he has any family if he’s got any collateral these people can use against him when the first call comes through the line. Dabi shoots up and can his normally iron hard face mask slipping. Showing hints of instinctual panic at Kiyoko’s sitters ringtone. He blames it on the unfinished cup of sake, not nearly enough to affect him, instead of the warm comfortable atmosphere. It’s nothing, just an alert that the kids are going outside.

The next text is asking if Kiyoko’s feathers can be vacuumed up. Dabi scowls as he types furiously into his phone to leave his daughters feathers on her back, before another one arrives and it's a picture of the soft down surrounding Kiyoko. The black haired omega frowns, yeah he can see how that would be an issue for someone else. He types back a short response that it's fine. Then lets his leg bounce off in anxiety as his phone chimes several more times. Some of the members are looking at him strangely and it just makes it worse. He checks his phone again as he wonders if he locked the door on his way in. Of course he did, he never forgets, but that’s for his own house and he has the urge to check for the base.

“Everything alright Dabi?” Shigaraki asks him with an odd tone to his voice. Dabi brushes it off as Shigaraki’s possessive streak coming out as the crusty asshole tries to sneak a peek at his phone like some sort of kid.

It's the fourth time Dabi has ducked out to take a phone call. Kiyoko is crying and controlling some of her feathers to annoy her sitter or entertain the other kids. When they were vacuumed up Kiyoko had become hysterical. Her sitter wants him to come get her as soon as possible again and Dabi wishes he could fault her for it. He sighs, resigning himself to excusing himself now. He twists one of his many rings decorating his fingers as he walks back in. The picture of apologetic.

Shigaraki tries not to be annoyed but Dabi won’t answer even the most basic questions about himself and he keeps leaving the meeting. Claiming it's urgent with his face drawn tight as he tries to pretend at being nonchalant.

Toga has been the only one able to get close enough to hear what's so urgent he has to keep leaving. Kuroguri could but he keepst telling him to let Dabi come to him in his own time. 

“I have to go.” Dabi storms back inside the dining area tapping his phone against his palm repeatedly.

Shigaraki hisses at him but at a kick under the table from Kuroguri he waves Dabi off. He thinks it's shady of Dabi to be looking at his phone all evening and suddenly have to dip but he also trusts Kuroguris judgement implicitly.

Does he have a spy in the League already?

@ruelukas22 @mostladylikeladythateverladied @i-like-to-shruggy @xxsnowchildxx @drxgonstone

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 10: Ch 2

Previous 

Summary: Significant changes have occurred while she was unconscious. One of them includes the imprisonment of Syco. Part 10 deals with the unnamed Space Explorer’s reconciliation.

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Lost in Space on ao3

My twin fell on her back. She coughs out blood the moment she lands. I hope it’s just a spoonful of blood rather than a cup. I’d prefer her not to lose any more blood. The two of us, Kaishi and I, slid across the bumpy ground before making an abrupt stop. She’s at the edge of the cliff, whereas I’m splashed with the small stream of blood. I choke on some of it as it flows into my mouth; the iron taste overwhelms my senses before I try to lift myself with shaking arms. My arms scraped pretty severely. I manage to flip right side up, but my efforts are rewarded by one of the crowd’s members, the ten-foot-tall hairy alien one, the third one with horns, lifted me by my collar and huffed into my face. I felt my skin be pushed back because of it. There’s no way I should know this beast’s name, but I do. “Syco?”

Saamuki and Mikrovos attempt to help Kaishi up and away from the cliff’s edge, but she pushes their efforts off of her. She helps herself up. S1Y, Skeema, and Khavas remain with the crowd, and apparently, I know too many aliens, mainly Tauvoxes. Ojos is nowhere to be seen, but I hear her voice, though difficult to understand, as Kaishi’s voice pierces through this silent landscape. The fire has died down, and so have the animals from the forest below. This wasteland reeks with death everywhere I dare to glance. My twin hasn’t budged a single inch from her pool of blood. I fear it’s become her resting place. I’m not sure about anything right now but what I am sure of is my feelings. I’m beyond pissed. I’m weaponless, my armor won’t do much to protect me, down a leg, have for some time, and I don’t have enough energy to fight. So, I know I’m in over my head, but as Syco is distracted with the long speech Kaishi gives, which I ignore, I headbutt him.  

We clutch our heads as those around turn their attention back to me. My vision is blurring. Everything around me is spinning. I can feel my blood drip down from my forehead. Somehow I sit back upright. With gritted teeth and a growl, Syco takes a step towards me, but he only gets a step closer because Kaishi gets between us. Her back is facing the Tauvox’s current commander, but he is no commander here. The back of her hand is raised towards him. He relaxes, retraces his step, and then stands stiff. 

“Still trying to be the hero, love?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Ugh!” It felt like someone was slamming a sledgehammer into my head. Tauvoxes are too durable. Hitting my forehead against Syco’s skull felt like I slammed myself into a cinder block. 

“Why?”

A simple question, but it’s one I have trouble answering. I’ve heard the graphic stories of the millions who couldn’t make it out of the cities, and I’ve seen the actions being done to thousands and a handful right before my eyes. In each case, I couldn’t do anything but watch. I was either too young, too weak, or too scared. I’ve had nightmares about my powerlessness. The guilt and regret ate me up as I tossed and turned for two decades, never getting sleep. At one point, I wanted to end my life because I thought it wasn’t ever going to end. They tried to exterminate us all because they needed a new home. Those bastards could’ve easily wiped out all of us all at once, but instead, they wanted to prolong their entertainment in torturing us until our bodies gave out. So, I should say that I continue to be a hero because I want to seek vengeance and make up for all the times I couldn’t do anything. Instead, here I was, finding it difficult to do just that. I merely stared at her until I answered, “I don’t know.” 

She reached her hands out towards my sword and dagger. They shook, then flew towards her hands at such a speed that it pulled me towards her and then had me land on my face. When they connected with her palms, it sounded like a bomb went off. It was like magic. She never showed herself to have such power, but Kaishi never showed she could revive herself. Kaishi moved both weapons above her head, towards each other, and when they collided, it was like thunder erupted. Light magically flashed from them, blinding me. 

I open my eyes to see both have fused. A sword of two equal, massive blades is gripped in Kaishi’s hands. She shifts the sword so that only one of her hands is holding it, and the other is resting at her side. The blade is balanced and angled on her shoulder. Somehow those intense blades didn’t cut right through her shoulder and tear her in half. At this point, I shouldn’t be questioning how much any of this makes sense. I need to focus on surviving. I can make sense of all of this later if I make it out of this. 

“You’re confused and hurt. Love, I can help you with that.” She removed that monstrous sword from her shoulder and placed it on her other bare palm. It didn’t cut her. 

“Help me by killing me.” My voice cracked. “Be honest with yourself, love. You’ve been wanting death for years, but you were too scared to do it on your own. I promise I’ll make it quick and painless,” she cooed out. She pouted, and when she noticed my displeasure, she snapped her expression to be one filled with laughter. “Besides, you literally can’t stand. Were you planning on crawling away from someone with two legs?”

“Maybe? Probably. Yes.”

“Adorable, but I am serious about my promise.”

“Shove that sword down your throat and choke on it.”

Again, she laughs at me as she drags the sword across the rocks beneath us. She could’ve just lifted it with both hands rather than let it cut between stone and create an ear-bleeding screech, but she’d instead relish in my squirming, huffing, and gulping. I tried doing what I say I’d do, crawling away. My attention should be towards trying to flee, but instead, I notice my twin’s right leg twitching. 

Kaishi is overhead, reverting my eyes’ focus to her smile. She lifts the sword up above her head and has the blade pointed directly between my eyes. I look around, and that’s when it hits me. It’s childish, but when you know you’re about to die, and it’s a way to prolong your life, even if it’s for a few seconds, who cares about what it is. I splash the bloody water into her eyes. Kaishi stumbles back, still gripping the sword, but one of her hands is trying to wipe away my desperation. Behind her, I hear Syco and the crowd members move. Kaishi orders them to remain where they are, but her temporary blindness isn’t the reason why they’ve moved. The reason should be a shock and an impossibility, but I accept it because of everything that’s happened. 

My twin hops from Syco’s head and dashes towards me. I cover my face, hoping to protect myself from the impact, one of which I soon understand I won’t feel. Again, a light blinds me, and with it, Kaishi finally wipes off the mess because she screams, “No!”

Once the light disappears, I flutter my eyes open, and after weeks, nearly two months of being disabled, I have my right leg back. That’s not all. My outfit has changed. I look like a knight with the same monochrome color scheme as my twin’s outfit. My twin is nowhere to be seen, but I have a feeling I know where she is. Not only that, but with my change, I know who she truly is. As I get up using my newly formed right leg, Kaishi has a tantrum. She stomps, jumps, and screams. The crowd and I step back, but neither of us can flee as she turns herself around to face the group that was behind her and opens her mouth wide. She begins to suck up the crowd. After she does, she grabs the sides of her face. She screams yet again but begins to laugh as a flash of golden light envelops her. I’m not blinded this time, but I wish I was because I see faces, familiar ones, pop out of her flesh. They scream as she continues to laugh and transform. I try to stop her transformation from finishing, but I can’t even take a step towards her because somehow that light is pushing me away, so I’m left to watch once again. 

She finishes with a white cloak engulfing her with a circular symbol on the back of it. She no longer has her sword, but now she has a horrific wrinkled face. Hundreds of faces have been squeezed between her wrinkles, each with eyes crying out blood. 

“Watcher,” I whispered the realization under my breath with eyes wide and another gulp. My body moved for me as I flung my right arm to the side and what came next is the emanation of a familiar blazing two-handler, almost like my previous one before she stole it, but without all the sci-fi elements. 

With the flick of her finger, her feminine features, what was left of them, disappear. Her face is now covered by a faceless mask. “Not quite.” Its voice is deep but not quite masculine. It is powerful. The figure’s voice makes me feel like my organs are on the brink of exploding. 

“A Lord? Here? But this is just a—”

“Now.” They wiggle their index finger from right to left before continuing, “Don’t ruin my fun just let.” I puke out. “Gross.”

“Why are you here? What am I doing here?” I press my free hand against my forehead, which has now healed. Although, it hurt trying to remember. “I was battling Syco...Shit! I need to get out of here.” I turned around one moment, and the next, I’m right in front of the Lord. The Lord moves its hand towards me, and I move my sword towards it. It goes right through where its stomach should be, but the Lord just laughs. The faces stretched across their arms open their mouths and laugh as well, but they’re forcing it out as they’re crying out blood as well. The sight grosses me out, but it does not warrant another puke. I don’t have anything else in me to throw up anyways, but my guts feel like purging again when the Lord begins to talk again. 

“Sorry, human. I must admit to you that I am a little bit insane. Okay, I’m pretty much insane.” To my surprise, one that nearly has me let go of the sword, the Lord caresses my chin. It’s gentler than how Kaishi did, but considering she was this Lord, it’s another surprise, I suppose. “Although, it’s because of my insanity that helps me be such a great performer. I’ve played so many characters, yet all were believable. How were my lines? You think they were passionate, eh?”

“Passionate, maybe, but not believable.”

Sure, I can’t see the Lord’s eyes through that mask, but I felt them. I felt the Lord’s judging glare. They sigh. “A shame.” It lets go of my face. “Two thousand years and yet I can’t produce the perfect play. Playing director can be straining.”

“Everything that is and was here was made by you?” I shouldn’t be surprised about a Lord’s power, but I still am amazed. Maybe it’s the shock that I am before another Lord that drives me to question because I’d rather wish this not be true.

“Of course, but you were the producer. Can’t create a world out of thin air. This is all in your subconscious. I just pull strings. You called me over here, after all. 

“You are such an interesting person. Maybe the most interesting case I’ve ever had to deal with. Actually, no. That short woman with the four eyes was way more interesting than you.”

There’s a power difference between us. The Lord is the one in power while I am not, but I buried down my fear when I clutched its cloak and pulled them closer to me. “What did you do to Ojos?”

“No need to get so worked up, human. Nothing happened to that poor, old hag. She didn’t submit to my offer.”

“Offer? You tried to kill her just like you did with me?”

“Of course. Souls are a delicacy. I haven’t eaten one in so long.” In the corner of my eye, the faces on their arms licked their lips. I pulled my sword off of the Lord and my grip and jumped away from them. In the process, they jerked forward and began to laugh. I clutched my sword in both hands as the demonic figure raised their head and slid one of their hands on their face, mimicking how Kaishi brushed away her hair. Then, they flew towards me. I swung, but before my blade connected with the Lord, I woke up to my hand right about to open an airlock and heard Saamuki calling out to me. I lower my hand, and I let her embrace me. 

[night-dragon937]

I need to share my experience from a few hours ago (writing this at 2 am aug 24 2020) yesterday but first I'm going to slap a huge tw: abuse, Christianity/gay stuff, anxiety attacks, and yelling/screaming, transphobia/homophobia, self harm/cutting and a lot of cussing/swearing onto this. Like this is deeply religious and I'd rather not have discourse on my beliefs.

That should cover it...

Okay so it started out fine, my mom and i were just talking. She was drunk, and attempting to convince me that my asexuality meant that i was straight... But since she was drunk, I'mma give her that. There was a lot of aphobia but that's not what this is about She started telling me about her experience, and best i can describe it, she's a closeted demisexual biromantic lady with a preference for girls and a shit ton of internalized homophobia ("being sexually attracted to women's bodies more than men's doesn't make me lesbian, I'm still straight")

It was a mostly civil conversation, but it was adding onto my bad feelings from my dad the past several weeks making snide hurtful remarks about our religion and my sexuality and gender. Also using the f-slur against me when i had explained to him in the past how badly that word hurts me, to which he apologized profusely and said he'd never have used that word if he knew how it affected me. Obviously a lie, because he's still using it with full knowledge of the effects.

Back to my mom. She started getting into the religious side of it, but we managed to keep it civil, until the very end when she said she'd be praying for me and i said I'd be praying to help figure out who exactly i am, and she remarked "make sure you're praying to the right person" with a really threatening tone to her voice. At that point, i lost it, let her know that her saying that made me want to go back to cutting (in case she wasn't aware) and said that i needed a moment alone (or something along those lines, i was thrown head first into an anxiety attack and can't quite remember very well).

I ran upstairs as she tried to grab me and pull me back, but i managed to make it to my room. I went into a fetal position, because safe, but she came in and all i remember is her screaming repeating some question, i think, at me, me not being able to breathe, her hands squeezing my wrists way too tight, my wrist pinned to the carpet with her knee, the other with her hand as she tried to grab my jaw and force me to look at her.

Her touching me made the attack worse (hours later i still have marks and scratches) and i couldn't talk, think, or breathe. Somehow i was able to choke out repeated pleas for her to stop touching me because it was making everything worse. I don't know how long that lasted. But at some point she stopped grabbing me and just placed her hands on me and started praying in tongues. Like i was fucking demon possessed. Because i had an anxiety attack. Which my parents have been triggering in me for as long as i can remember.

I managed to sit up and get her to stop touching me, but she refused to be less than a foot away from me, even though i was going through a sensory overload and needed personal space. She finally trapped me into a corner of my room and put her arms on either side of me, one of them holding the door closed. She was screaming in my face and i was yelling over her, asking her to give me personal space and stop being so loud so that i could calm down, which she refused. I ended up very trapped and very uncomfortable and doing my best to not have another anxiety attack while replying to the most outlandish of her accusations, but mostly keeping my mouth shut in an attempt to get her to do the same.

She kept using my deadname, like usual, but it was worse for me for some reason at this point. I mentioned that and got yelled at more. I mentioned her pinning my wrists to the ground and got called a liar and she tried to make it so that i couldn't leave and grab a Kleenex until i admitted she was right and that i pinned myself to the ground (???). So i just started describing what i remembered until she got sick of it and let me go wipe my nose. She must have closed my door when she first came in. My dad (stepdad) was standing outside the door, eavesdropping, apparently.

I got a Kleenex but then my mom started yelling at me again, but i mostly just pretended to listen because i didn't want to have another anxiety attack. My dad started piping in and making me feel so much worse. He ended with saying "you're not a Christian. You don't believe in God. Even the devil believes in God." (Implying that I'm worse than the devil). At which point i started breaking down crying. And then i ran outside to have another anxiety attack but this time my mom just stood on the porch because the grass was wet and she was barefoot, but i curled up under the stars for who knows how long as i forced myself to do breathing techniques, and stim by rubbing the wet grass, which really helped ground me.

I went back inside when i was feeling better and got a drink of water and a Kleenex. And they started telling me how much they loved me and that i might not see it, but they were doing this out of love, because they were concerned for my eternity. I kept pointing out things they were doing that hurt me and better ways to do it (constructive criticism, so they know what's bad for me) and they repeatedly told me how much worse they could make it for me and that i should be glad they didn't make it worse. I pointed out that this didn't make their actions better and they said "doesn't make them wrong, either." Which ????? Victim blaming, abuse, what?

I brought up the times I've cried out to God for answers and the few times He's responded, (refusing my request for Him to kill me, telling me I'm not going to Hell for being gay/queer) bc they kept bringing up a few dubiously translated verses of the Bible and they told me that i was listening to the wrong person. That i was worshipping the wrong one. They heavily implied that i pray and worship the devil (disclaimer: i don't judge those who do, that's your life, I'm not gonna try and decide it for you, also i can admit that the church of Satan makes valid points and treats people right, from what I've seen, this is just a huge insult for them to throw at me specifically because of what I've been taught my whole life). Also invalidating my whole experience just because they don't like it.

They keep bringing up me being involved in the community (following queer people on social media, having one queer shirt, going to gsa-which they told me I'm not allowed to be a part of anymore-, having queer friends) as me seeking validation and attention, and that i shouldn't need validation and it shouldn't be about validation if I really think that this is who i am. Aka, because i am human and seek human things, i must be a total fake and fraud about all I've told them (very little). Meanwhile they do the exact same thing with their friends and social media and each other and everything.

My dad kept piping up with totally unrelated, totally unhelpful comments and tangents while my mom recited the same 5 min spiel for at least half an hour. My dad was saying how my grandparents aren't actually Christians because they agree with me that the world isn't black and white and there are some shades of gray, and because they believe once saved, always saved. That there is nothing you can do, as an imperfect human, to remove yourself from the infinite and unconscious love of God. (... I can't believe he fucking believes that humans have the ability to overrule God because it makes it easier for him to blame and condemn people he sees...)

These are the grandparents who have loved me regardless of my sexuality and gender, even tho they don't agree, and made me feel loved and gave me a place to go when i need to escape from my parents. They're the reason I'm keeping my mom's maiden name (since it hasn't been legally changed) because it's their last name, and it's them i want to honor, not my abusive shitty hateful stepdad. Unfortunately they are moving into assisted living because my papa is in a wheelchair, so i can't move in with them.

He ended that tangent with repeatedly telling me that i was not saved. That i was not a Christian. That i didn't believe in God. And that i was going to Hell. Repeatedly.

My mom made me hug her and made me tell her i love her. I ended up exercising to stop myself from becoming suicidal. I don't know if I'll tell anyone irl apart from the one irl friend i have on here. I'm not sure if I'm going to tell my therapist or not. I reached out to two of my christian friends after everything but they were both asleep. I needed to write this all down and put it somewhere public, just to be safe. I'm not safe in my own home and i can't move out because I'm a. Under 18 and b. Broke as hell

There was a lot more that happened, this lasted several hours, but i honestly can't remember all of the details besides what i typed out. Anyway so yeah i kinda wish i were dead but i also wanna stay alive for spite and show them that i can be a fabulous queer Christian and that the world is colorful, and you can't reduce that to monochrome and expect to have an even partially accurate view of the world. I want to help others like me, and help them feel better about myself.

I'm setting this as a queue so that if my parents take my phone away, they can't stop me from posting it (they have no clue how to look at queued posts) and also so that i can go to bed now and look at it again later and edit it

[kekekentyuh]

Try and Try

I wrote this short story-type thing as a way of ushering my twentieth birthday in quarantine, since I have none but the company of words by my side as I reach this new milestone. But, as always, it managed to Margot Roth Spiegelman its way in my drafts (please get this reference) and I’ve only had the nerve to finish it, if not uninspringly, today. I hope you’re a little bit more gentle with this, as it’s not really a big post; it’s just to celebrate my own day. Thanks and have fun reading!

“I like your boots.”

I looked at him no longer than a second before looking down at my own feet, at the pair of black leather boots I was wearing. I didn’t know if there was something to them that made him like them, since they weren’t particularly new, with their peeling tips, worn-out soles and lackluster surfaces due to months of not bothering to shine them, nor whether or not he was bluffing, since I wasn’t so sure if seven year-olds already had motives to bluff, but the gleam in his eyes as he was staring at them like they were the fanciest thing he’d seen in a catalog was enough to prove me significantly wrong, and it made me smile.

“Thanks,” I replied, looking at him again. “I like yours, too.”

He turned his wide-eyed gaze at the pair of brown, faux-suede boots at his own two feet, which had alternating black and yellow shoelaces too perfectly tied – Mom could have very well tied them for his own sake – and decorated with small tiger patches sewn at the back. He made the same smile, only goofier, and looked at me, his eyes twinkling.

“Thanks!” And I could not bring myself not to smile back.

He was sitting beside me as the sun was setting at the playground we were in, warming the bright pastel hues of the play area to a saturated orange, muting them to a perfect tinge of monochrome, making me look around in awe and open my eyes wider than they actually went, but I figured, at that moment, there was nothing more of a spectacle than the small boy beside me, just a few inches away. He was barely past my stomach, wearing a plaid button down neatly tucked in his bright blue denim jeans, with his boots, and a Power Ranger watch slapped against his tiny left wrist. He looked so much better than me, I figured, with my plain white shirt and not-so-skinny jeans (which were what I liked to think my staple for a day at the university) looking like I had all the color in me sucked out, leaving myself gray and defeated.

I heard an “Are you okay?” before I turned to him and nodded again, even though I was entirely unsure of that answer, this time taking the time to look at him properly for the first time since we saw each other.

His smile had melted, replaced with a look I couldn’t easily read, prompting me to look back at him, and it felt so much like what it actually was: a mirror through time, like I was looking back into the reflection I forgot I had thirteen years ago. I saw him clearly for the first time: he had the same scruffy eyebrows that pointed at the end, and the same thick, dark hair, sticking out in different directions, with a bit in the center stuck together (which, I knew, was an adorable attempt at a fake Mohawk with gel bought from the corner store), had the same dark, chocolate skin and the same dark eyes that shimmered brown in the sunlight, but brooded dark and black as he closed them to blink. The expression on his face was almost neutral, as opposed to the wide smile he had merely moments ago, like he didn’t know what to feel about this strange adult in front of him, but it was almost curious, as if he wanted to know why he was there – and I knew for sure that he was curious, because I was him, thirteen years ago.

We sat there, in complete silence, as he turned away to look at down at his boots once more, swinging his feet back and forth, nothing but the whispering gentle breeze brushing through the tips of our hair, just staring at each other, not knowing what to say. I never was one to start a conversation with anyone, but to start a conversation with my seven year old self is something I never imagined I would even be doing, and I sure as hell did not know how to deal with that.

But given the circumstances I never knew would bring me here, I wouldn’t know if I’ll ever get to a chance to meet him again, or see him again. This wasn’t just something that happens to a person at some point in their lives – if anything, this may be the only chance I could get to spend time with him, and the only way time I had to utter a word to him that will last in this lifetime. I knew in myself – my current self – that I had to make this count.

“So,” I said, dragging it in probably the most hushed voice I didn’t know I had, in an attempt to pierce the deafening silence, “how’s everything at home?”

He turned to me doe-eyed before answering, “Home’s okay.” His voice lingered in my head like a mirage, the silent tapping of the tips of his feet on the pavement making up for the distinct hush of our surroundings. “Home is still...home.” 

“Home is home,” I agreed, nodding along. “It’s the best place in the world, isn’t it?” He nodded again, this time in a more rapid pace, making me smile again as I stifled a small, genuine laugh.

I blinked and noticed how I never cut my gaze from him, seemingly fixated on the way he sat and swung his legs endlessly, the tips of his boots brushing against the pavement. “How about Mama? How is she doing? And Papa?” He looked at me doe-eyed, his attention seemingly caught, as he locked his eyes in mine. "They're still picking you up from school, right?"

"Mama picks me up from school," he replied. "She always comes late after we finish, but it's okay, I have time to play."

“You guys still take the commute home?”

He nodded again. “Papa needs the motorcycle so we can’t ride in it. He comes home at night.” He kept staring at his two feet, as if he were willing them to sway with his mind. “He comes home much later than we do.” And I vividly remember it, because it was a sound I had become accustomed to, I sound I grew to learn and be familiar with: the gates opening, the motorcycle engine dying, the sound of keys jingling and the door closing from behind.

“Is he doing okay?”

“He’s always tired, he just scratches my head when he gets home and tells me good night,” he replied. “But Papa is okay.”

I don’t know how my parents did it – both working regular eight hour days, my mom being a full-time caretaker for two children just beginning to grasp the concept of school, my dad taking classes immediately as he leaves his job in the morning in order to pursue a law degree, coming home just as tired as the moon was. But somehow, they did it, and they did a magnificent job at it, and I couldn’t help but remember what must have gone through my mind at that time, because it was probably all there was to it: Mama and Papa are very busy. And they’re tired, so they need to rest.

“How about Lolo? And Lola? ” I felt my voice tremble at the question I barely had the strength to speak out; it felt like it’d been a while since I’ve said those words, and it felt so distant, so alienated, even though they had once been so familiar, that I never thought I would have brought myself to say it again. “They’re doing good too?”

And I saw the same unprecedented shimmer in his eyes, the way a child usually does when they are prompted to talk about something that they love. And for moment, I envied him; I’ve never felt like that for so long. “They’re doing okay, too.” He started nodding to himself again, probably because he knew for a fact that they were. I did too, even though I also knew how much had changed. 

“What have they been up to?”

“Lolo’s still walking a lot, he wakes up when it’s still dark and walk and walk until the sun comes up.” The image became so strikingly clear in my mind – a built 60 year-old in a red sweatshirt and blue sweatpants, walking in strong strides in the cold morning breeze, cane in one hand and a a clenched fist in the other. “He always brings us bread to eat for breakfast when we wake up.” So he did, until the day he couldn’t bring himself to walk anymore.

“And Lola still comes over a lot. But she likes to talk to the neighbors and water her plants.” That’s right – the barren, moss-green walls of the terrace used to be filled with striking purples and pinks, orchids hanging from above and tons of hibiscus blooming from below. My Lola saw life like she saw her flowers: ethereal, majestic, and worth the work. But they stopped blooming the moment her heart stopped beating.

“Does she still borrow your books?” I asked, in an attempt to mask the sadness in my expression, although ultimately proclaiming it through my voice. “And make you meryenda every single afternoon?”

“Yeah, she always comes to borrow my books so I can’t read much anymore,” he replied. The way he attempted to make it look like he was annoyed but was really happy, I knew, that she would come over to visit, even if it were just for the books, made me smile yet again. “And she always makes me sandwiches. I love her sandwiches.”

I heard another “Are you okay?” before noticing that he was looking at me again with his big doe eyes. I didn’t even realize the tears had already begun falling down the sides of my face, for I was too immersed in the images that had already been playing in my head, all of them feeling like distant memories unlocked unwillingly, but so much more real and concrete because of the little boy in front of me, yet here they were – warm and unstoppable, painful with every blink of the eye like daggers through the heart.

“I’m okay,” I replied, without nodding, wiping my wet cheeks with the palms of my hands, then with the collar of my shirt, looking worse than I ought to have let myself seem. I’ve always been sensitive at the thought of my grandparents coming over to skip in my mind, but I never felt anything more intense than what I was feeling at that moment. I couldn’t fully describe what it was, but I knew what I was feeling; I wanted to be him so badly. I wanted to be a child again, to have nothing else to worry about but the day ending and smiling again when another one begins, to run around freely into the arms of my Lolo and my Lola, kiss them like it was the last time I would ever do so, and keep them closer in my heart and lock them there forever, where they won’t be able to leave me again.

“Are you sure?” He asked, turning his body to me, focused at the small droplets landing on the front of my shirt, forming beads of emotion on the surface. “Did I say something bad?” My head snapped in his direction at those words. Something in me never wanted to hear a child say that out loud. 

A faint “No” was all I could muster, followed by a “I just wish I could stay like you forever. Or, you know, maybe even just for a little while longer.” 

“Why?”

“Dreams are free when you’re still a child,” I said. “It’s so much easier than when you’re an adult like me.”

His face scrunched up as he tilted his head towards his shoulder in a confused expression. “Well, I want to be like you,” he said in a matter-of-fact-ly manner after a split moment of silence, dropping his gaze to his feet once more. I turned to him as he replied, feeling the heavy spheres of teardrops covering my eyelashes as I blinked at him. “I want to grow up.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t like being a kid,” he said, pouting his lips as he talked. “I don’t really like myself.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’m not like the other kids,” he replied, tilting his head to the side. “I’m short, dark, and they all think I’m weird because I speak like the cartoons on TV.” He grimaced at himself, and I understood why; the neighborhood kids had always found it strange that one could have more knowledge of English than Filipino, and I couldn’t change that completely about myself, even if I wanted to. The voice inside my head was in English.

“I don’t like playing sports, and I don’t like to fight the other kids. And they all get mad at me when I point out that something’s wrong with what we’re playing,” he added, a thin texture of sadness engulfing his voice. “I’m just, different.”

“I see.” And I did; somehow, blending in, being part of a group or adhering to something has always been kind of a struggle for me. In a way, I’ve always known that I was different, that I looked different, and that I liked different things. I was more content with a book in my hands than riding a bike outside and more content with telling stories rather than catching bugs or climbing trees. But what was difficult was accepting that I was the yellow pea in the pod, that fitting in was always going to be an issue for me. And in a way, the feeling never really went away.

“I wish I was like you,” he managed to blurt out as I fixated my gaze on him once more, more surprised at his words than anything else. “You’re smarter, you do more awesome things than me, and you’re stronger than me.” Except I wish I was. “The kids here would love you.” I’m not so sure about that, either.

“What? Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re a scientist, studying in a university now, right? You’re studying animals and plants and why the chemicals change color when they are mixed together. You’re making great discoveries everyday!” He didn’t even pause to look at the confused expression on my face. “And you’re a writer! You write stories and people around the world have read them, right? Books with tons of words and magic like Harry Potter and the Hardy Boys?”

A few more words shot out of his mouth before I could even open my lips to respond, “And you’re doing work to help the people around you! You’re helping the farmers and making big decisions that will help the kids at the schools who need books, just like Mama tells me.” He looked at me again with his big, doe eyes in small crescents, smiling. “You’re a hero. They’d love you.”

It never really dawned to me that tomorrow was such a big thing for me; I have so many things I want to achieve, so many things I want to come my way that I’ve built up the highest expectations for myself because I saw no other option but to see myself cross those goals out. That’s why I always felt like my time was running out – I have so many things in my life that I want to pursue that sitting down is such a luxury in my head.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, without a single bit of hesitation in my voice. No point in lying to myself, I figured.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m not really any of those things just yet,” I confessed, trying to usher in a smile to make it look like I wasn’t any more sad than I actually was. “I’m just a regular university student.” I wasn't a brilliant student-scientist, I was dragging myself in between classes bullying myself over topics I have yet to study. I wasn't a well-known writer, I was a hobby artist forcing myself to write despite the lack of inspiration. And I couldn’t stand up for my people – I could barely stand up for myself. “I try so hard, but I’m not any of those things. I’m not a hero.”

And we sat there in still silence, letting the slight breeze whip across us gently once again. I had so many things running through my mind that I couldn’t bring myself to look at him even if I wanted to, because it would only kill me to see the disappointed look on his small face the moment I did. I wasn’t anywhere near anything I wanted myself to be when I was young, nowhere near grasping any of the achievements I used to dream I would have at this point in my life. I wasn’t doing great things like I told myself I would. And it wasn’t because I was too short of chances to do those great things, either, because I’ve spent so much time looking for myself, figuring things out even if they didn’t need figuring out, and neglecting what I thought was best, that I didn’t have much attention for the things that truly mattered in the end. I’ve wasted so much time being someone I wasn’t, and I wasn’t proving myself any more capable of doing all those things either, because in all honesty, I wasn’t all that great. I was just regular, old me, and I was too afraid of what he’d think of me now.

I felt him shift across the bench to just a few inches beside me, too shy to look at me directly but sensitive enough, I felt, to want to make sure that I still felt him around me. “That’s okay,” he managed, swinging his legs again, this time looking at the playground in front of us. 

“It is?” I croaked, looking at him in dumb disbelief. 

He nodded. “Sometimes, we don’t really get the best of what we want. You know, like you don’t get to ride the nicer swings most of the time or play with the toys you want since the bigger kids always get them first. And sometimes, you’re too afraid to climb up the slide and go down because you’ll fall on your knees, and your knees will hurt.” He looked up at me, and looked at my eyes for the first time since he first spoke. “But that is not important, because the hurting will stop. What matters is you try your best to get there, no matter how many times you scrape your knees.”

I smiled genuinely, the mixed feeling of relief, happiness, and content washing over me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect him to say something else, or ignore me completely. “I guess so.”

“You’re still studying to become a great scientist, right?” I nodded. “And you’re still writing stories and saving them for everyone to read?” I nodded again. “And you’re still working to help others?” I nodded once more, and he smiled at me. “Then you are a hero. Heroes try and try until they succeed. And if they fall on their butts, they keep fighting, don’t they?”

I smiled at him. I didn’t ever think that I’d be proud of myself for lacking so much, but then again, it turns out someone was proud of me. I couldn’t help but chuckle at him as I ruffled his hair and put an arm around his shoulders. “You know, the thing about us is we weren’t made to be heroes. We’re not built like them, and we don’t want to act like them.” He nodded at me, agreeing completely. “But we try and try until we get what we want, because we don’t like seeing our dreams remain dreams.” I looked at the playground, with the burning hues intensified by the sun, and smiled at the sight. “And that’s probably more than what the Spidey Senses can offer.”

He smiled as he swung his legs again, wrapping an arm around my waist, shifting even closer than he had a few moments ago.”

“Heroes don’t tell themselves they’re heroes, because we don’t do what truly matters because we want to be recognized by them. We do things that matter because they matter, regardless of how great it will make us.” I looked down at him as he looked up to me, both of us smiling until the end of our ears. “And that makes us even greater than we could ever imagine, won’t it?”

“It sure will!” he replied enthusiastically, making me laugh as another single tear dripped down the side of my cheek. I’ve never felt any happier than with any other living human being in this planet; I didn’t want this to end any time soon.

“Tell you what,” I said, releasing him from our semi-embrace, looking at him with a soft gaze, “You keep reading, and writing, and doing the things that make you happy. Do them all and don’t think of what others will look at you or even laugh at you for. I keep trying if you keep trying. No stopping, and no giving up. Crying is allowed, but we keep strong after that.” I smiled. “What do you say?”

He smiled again at me, and this time, I knew he was even more happy than he was before. “Deal.”

He took my hand and shook it vigorously, which felt like nothing more than a jiggly wave in my arm as he turned towards the playground, before looking at me with that same mischievous smile.

“Race you to the slide?”

“I’m going to win.”

“Try and catch up, old man.”

[randomfandomimagine]

Invisible Beauty (Newt x Reader)

Character: Newt Scamander

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Blind!Reader, Soulmate AU

Title: Invisible Beauty

  Requested by anon:

Hi! Request for an imagine for Newt (FBAWTFT) for a Soulmate!AU where everything is black & white but then it is colourful when you meet your soulmate? So Newt is chasing his usual Niffler since it stole something again. So when he gets the item back and gives it back to the owner (who is reader), the world becomes colourful. He says something like “wow isn’t it beautiful?” And reader is confused. It turns out that reader is blind and a muggle too. But Newt is sure that they are soulmates

  A/N: Written in Newt’s POV!

Blimey, that darn Niffler again. Where was that little bugger? He gave me nothing but trouble lately. I had expected my trip to New York to be calmer and more productive, I did not want to be chasing after a mischievous little creature who was too dazzled with shiny objects to keep himself out of trouble, and at the same time me.

I gasped when I noticed the Niffler crossing the street, holding on to what seemed a silver necklace. There was his beloved treasure, and I knew he only meant to make it bigger.

“Here we go” I whispered under my breath, prepared to go after him. However, something stood in my way, quite literally.

I was so preoccupied with keeping track of the escaped Niffler that my eyes had been directed to the other street instead of where I was walking. A lump lied on the floor, making me trip and causing me to fall on my knees.

“Oh, no!” A soft voice said in a high-pitched squeak. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry!”

I looked to see a lovely looking young lady, knelt down on the ground as her delicate hands gently palpated the ground.

“I’m terribly sorry” I apologized, clumsily reaching out just as she did as well. “I didn’t see you”

“Don’t worry” The smile she showed me next brought a sudden warm feeling to my chest.

As her hand rested against my arm, I was overcome with a wave of emotion that, although it was quite gentle, was somehow still powerful enough to take my breath away.

The world had always been black and white. I didn’t quite understand my classmates surprise over my ginger hair, or their confusion when I accidentally chose the wrong colored table when I was sorted into Hufflepuff. And even then, as I looked up to the buildings, cars, streets and people I saw nothing but monochrome, of browns, gray and black. Until I looked at her.

The girl was filled of beauty, of color, of life. The warm color in her eyes, the soft color in her hair, the faint pink in her cheeks. It was breathtaking, and an unexpected smile slowly took over my lips.

“I’m sorry, mister” Her soft voice brought me back to reality. “I know I shouldn’t be crouching on the ground in the middle of the street, but I seem to have misplaced something very important to me”

Her words reminded me of my quest in search of the Niffler. With a quick movement of my eyes, I noticed he was nowhere in sight. He had escaped for now.

“Did you lose something then?” I replied, politely yet timidly holding her by the elbow as she stood to her feet. That brief contact brought sudden butterflies to my stomach.

“My silver necklace” She sighed, resting a hand on her chest. “It was a gift, so I treasure it very dearly”

“I’m afraid I can’t see it around here either” I muttered, forcing myself to avert my gaze despite my unusual desire to stare at her colorful and lively face. “But I can certainly help you look for it”

“That would be wonderful!” She smiled widely, gently squeezing my arm, that I had forgotten she was still holding on to. “Thank you so much!”

“It is no trouble, really” After all, I felt partially guilty that my Niffler had stolen it, it was my responsibility to help her get it back. “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” She followed after me, slowly letting go of me.

As we crossed the street together, I was fascinated by our surroundings. Every once in a while, we encountered a colorful poster that announced a big event. The colors of the announcement were strong and vibrant, a delightful sight.

Curious about my own attire, I looked down to notice my blue and yellow Hufflepuff scarf, my dark coat, bright vest and brown boots. Before, it all looked grey.

“Are you still there?” She asked me suddenly.

“Yes” I hurried to reply, half questioningly, trying to forget about the beautiful colors all around me.

“I know” The girl smiled at me, a sight I was yet not over. “You just grew awfully quiet over there”

“Sorry” I chuckled awkwardly, looking anywhere but into her warm eyes. “It’s just quite beautiful…”

“What is?”  

“You don’t see the colors?”

“I’m… blind”

I suddenly felt so stupid. I thought the reason she wouldn’t meet my eyes was because she was shy, just like I often found myself averting my gaze as eye contact made me uncomfortable. I felt terrible, although I forced myself to speak up as to not upset her with my silence.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t’ realize-“ She smiled, to my surprise, interrupting my nervous rambling.

“It’s okay, mister” The lady nodded vehemently, that kind, beautiful and friendly smile still present in her lips.

“Please, call me Newt��� I mildly bowed my head down even if she couldn’t see me.

“Newt” She repeated, savoring the word. Such a simple word, yet my name had never sounded as wonderful as until the moment it came from her mouth, uttered by her lovely voice. “My name is Y/N”

It was quite a beautiful name, though as I opened my mouth to say it, I gulped without meaning to. Instead of saying any words, I only managed a strangled noise.

In response to my awed silence, Y/N did nothing but to smile even wider and let out a beautiful chuckle that somehow brought me a sense of familiarity, accompanied by an inner warmth. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would have thought that some sort of strange creature that I strangely didn’t know about had taken over my stomach to make me feel this giddy. Of course, there wasn’t such creature. But there was Y/N, an incredibly human being that made me feel as special as my creatures did.

“Do you happen to see my necklace around here?” Y/N spoke up, claiming my attention.

“N-No, can’t say I do”

“It should be close if I dropped it, I heard it falling”

“You don’t think it could have been, unfortunately, stolen?”

“Let’s hope not!”

“We will find it, Y/N” I assured, quite confident that I could keep at least that promise.

“Thank you, Newt” I couldn’t quite tell if it was intentional or not, but her shoulder gently bumped against mine. “Thank you very much”

*

It was quite difficult to focus on one thing. On the one hand, I had to search for the Niffler and make sure I recovered the necklace. On the other hand, Y/N was quite distracting and even the new colors that surrounded me paled next to her beauty. Her conversation was exhilarating and her gentle kindness was intoxicating. Y/N’s presence alone made me forget about my mission until I remembered that I was after the Niffler.

“There!” I exclaimed when I spotted a small furry creature running around.

“Where?!” Y/N blindly reached out until her hand rested on my forearm, and I must say that her constant need for physical contact was quite pleasant and endearing. It was a surprise even for myself, as I usually dreaded it.

I silently pulled my wand out with my free hand and subtly pointed it towards the Niffler.

“Accio” With that, the necklace and the creature it was attached to were attracted to me until the Niffler rested on my arms.

He looked up at me with innocent eyes, yet I sent him a harsh glare. I saved him in my pocket, hoping he would not escape again before I took the time to put him back in the case, and retrieved Y/N’s necklace.

“Newt?” She called me, expectant and excited.

“If I may… Your hand…” I stuttered, but she gladly held it out for me. I gently lay the necklace on her palm.

“Yes!” She eagerly fidgeted around, but stayed still for a moment to pass her fingers over the surface of the pendant. “This is it!”

Holding it gingerly, she lay it over her collarbone and moved her hands to her nape to try and secure it. Seeing as she struggled a bit, I quickly saved my wand and positioned myself behind her.

“Allow me to help you” I shuddered when our hands brushed against each other as she softly let go of the end of the chain. I tried to be gentle as I secured the necklace, knowing it was inevitable for my fingers to graze her soft nape.

“Thank you!” Y/N turned around suddenly, surprising me as we now were facing each other, extremely close.

I gulped at the closeness, but not because it made me uncomfortable. It… flustered me. I craved it, much to my dismay, yet at the same time it made me nervous. Even more nervous than any possible interaction I had before, yet for the first time I realized it wasn’t a bad thing.

A feeling within me told me that this was something special, that Y/N herself was special, at least to me. And not because she was, in my eyes, but because she was destined to be special for me. Like… soulmates? Perhaps, yes.

“You would think I’m absolutely mad but… I think we’re soulmates” I stared at her expectantly, even if I had to look away soon after. No matter the fact that she didn’t notice me staring.

“Oh, so you felt it too?” That perfect smile illuminated her soft features once more.

“Yes” I blinked repeatedly, completely astonished. “How did you know if you can’t....?”

Her hands slowly made their way to my face. Her tender palms rested against my cheeks, bringing a loving warmth as her delicate fingers caressed my skin. While one hand lingered there, the other met my hair, carefully touching my curls.

“I can’t see it, but I can feel it…” She took a deep breath, overwhelmed, even if she was smiling. “And it is beautiful”

I reached out to touch her, but hesitated. Her hands moved, caressing my jaw and my neck on their way down until they settled over my shoulders. I tried again, and my fingers were trembling as they gingerly took hold of a single tuft of her soft hair.

To my surprise, Y/N didn’t react. Despite not seeing me moving closer, she was not startled, nearly like she expected me to. Like she knew I would because she anticipated my movements. Because she knew me.

“I don’t need to see to feel that vitality arising in me, or to know of your softness and gentleness”

“Oh…”

“It’s strange, but it’s true… It’s like… an invisible beauty like…”

“Magic” I completed for her, earning a smile and a nod.

“Exactly, Newt”

“You do believe in magic?”

“Absolutely”

“I can show you some more magic”

I held a hand out for her to hold, just then realizing I would have to either tell her or hold her hand myself. However, before I could do any of the above, her palm gently pressed against mine as she innocently giggled. Somehow, she knew. Perhaps it was something in my tone that gave it away, or she might have heard the fabric of my coat rustling as I stretched out my arm. Or what I chose to believe, that our shared souls communicated what our bodies and minds couldn’t.

I smiled, treasuring the feeling of her hand against mine. No one had ever made me feel like that, I only felt this comfortable and relaxed around my creatures. But Y/N wasn’t just anyone, and I didn’t think our meeting was a coincidence. She was special, and she made me feel like myself, especially because somehow she liked me that way.

Tagging: @fandomnerdsarecool, @fortheloveofbenyandtom, @overpowered-insanity, @snowfire71

[suicidalcatz]

DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 11

Pairing : Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre : College AU

Previous parts : Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8 ; Chapter 9 ; Chapter 10

Masterlist : here

AN : It is wednesday, my dudes! This part and the next ones are like 90% fluff, 10% angst... like bittersweet. You’re still heartbroken but try to keep your friendship with Jake, while doing all of your homework... A lot to handle. Actually I had to cut the chapter in half because it was too long (9-10 pages). I really hope you’ll like this chapter because I liked writing it! Feel free to tell me what you thought of it, send me dms or questions, and thanks for reading me x

Chapitre 11 : Would you cook for me ?

Ignoring Jake's texts or avoiding him was useless. But hanging out with him was a challenge I wasn't ready to handle, never asked for, and yet was pushed into. Pretending I didn't see him when we crossed paths in the hallways, or that I didn't receive any of his texts was petty, there was no point in doing so. I couldn't avoid him without giving him any reason, and I couldn't tell him why I needed some time far away from him either because it meant revealing the truth and 1) I wasn't ready, 2) he'd be the one avoiding me like the black plague if I did. It brought me to the conclusion that I would simply pretend nothing happened at all. Jake hadn't noticed the whole situation anyway, so to him it'd already be like everything was normal, just like it always had been between us. It was the best I could think of. For him, for Josh, for anyone. For me ? Not so much. Of course I was still heartbroken, of course it'd take me some time to get over him, and staying by his side would be like rubbing salt on a wound while demanding for it to heal. But I wouldn't risk to break our group's dynamic for selfish reasons. So I sucked that in, everything. The sadness, and painful pang of my chest every time I saw his face, while repeating myself it was for the best.

That aside, I had some other things coming. For the worst. My useless self got so into self-pity and deprecation that I had totally forgotten about homework... And my drawing teacher would be less than pleased as we were all supposed to hand her five new portraits on Monday. Realization hit me during breakfast with Josh who had slept here, when I saw Mandy pack her things and idly noticing out loud that I wasn't carrying a lot of stuff for once. This. This was the cue. But it was too late now, I thought as I walked down the halls by their side. On our way to the amphitheater we saw Jake, waiting in front of the door for the teacher to come. Other students were here too, chatting and yawning with their backs against the walls or sitting on the floor. Josh looked at me like he wasn't sure if he should greet him but the brunette was the one spotting us, gesturing us to come join him. My eyes were probably still a bit puffy but with the makeup it could pass for lack of sleep. Of course he knew Josh stayed at our place last time, I had made sure the boy texted him, and the jerk had taken this opportunity to ask his brother to bring him all his school supplies, backpack included. Unbelievable.

- Your stuff, said Jake handing Josh his bag.

- Who's the big brother again ?, I jokingly asked with a raised eyebrow.

- He's 5 minutes older, replied Jake.

- You'll never live it down !

We all chatted quietly, and I never felt more conflicted in my entire life. My heart didn't know if it should beat faster or hurt like hell, so it seemed to do both, making me feel weird just by being next to Jake. My body was in total contradiction with itself. I couldn't hold back the smile that crept across my face, but at the same time wouldn't meet Jake in the eye, disguising it by cracking joke after joke while my stress level kept rising the more time passed. My thoughts were running wild. In a few hours the drawing teacher was going to yell at me in front of the whole workshop and I couldn't handle it. I'd surely burst into tears and feel even more ashamed. I'd probably-

- Hey, you alright ?

A soft touch caressed my back and I involuntarily jerked forward, out of its grasp, before realizing and suddenly feeling bashful at my reaction. I could tell Jake was surprised by it but it lasted only a second before his face showed concern.

- Yeah, I just didn't finish my work on time... That witch is gonna murder me and ask the others students to draw a perspective of my corpse I'm sure.

I heard his chuckles before the tutor cut him off, passing by us with the keys in hand to unlock the door, separating the sea of students in half like an artsy Moses. Jake was at the other side when the crowd engulfed through the small door, letting us no choice but to keep our bodies to the walls.

- Do you wanna sit together today ?, asked Jake above the loud stomping noises.

Because of the students between us I couldn't really see his face, but was glad because it meant he couldn't see mine whitening. Josh and Mandy on the other hand were just next to me and clearly witnessed my expression change. To think that a week before I would've been on cloud nine being able to sit next to him for two whole hours... Oh how things could change fast.

We were now the three last people left outside and Jake held the door for us, continuing speaking.

- You guys are always exchanging notes, we should just, ya know ? Sit next to each other and... quietly chat.

As backup to his words, he murmured the last part in a very exaggerated fashion, in a failed attempt to make me smile. I couldn't just say no to him without looking weird because I had no reason to. Even if I knew he wouldn't push the matter, there was no way he wouldn't question it, right ? Josh came to the rescue, playfully elbowing him.

- But then where's the fun in that ? Right girls ?

Both agreeing, we rushed to our usual seats, letting a dumbfounded Jake close the door behind him. In their habitual fashion, Mandy and Josh threw paper balls at each other, while I was for once too focused on the lecture to participate in their shenanigans. I needed to get my mind to focus on something and right now Gilgamesh sounded like a good deal, so I took as many notes as possible. A task proven even more difficult because in the corner of my eye, I could see Jake staring at me.

Saying my drawing teacher killed me was a little bit of an understatement. She scared the shit out of me with her scolding. To be fair, even in a normal mood she was a scary woman. The already quiet   class went completely still and silent when she barked at me, admonishing me with charming names such as « useless », « disappointing » and the timeless « lamentable ». A classic. Truth to be told it hurt much less than I previously anticipated, mainly because I was already half dead inside, with the emotional range of a cactus, and my self-esteem nearly reaching zero. Nothing much to attack, really. Nevertheless, she demanded that I hand her all five portraits plus the five others we had to do this week by the next monday. Meaning I had ten to do in a week. It physically hurt just thinking about it, and I could hear a quiet « oof » escaping some of my classmates' mouths. It's with a huge relieved sigh that I found my bed this afternoon once school was over. This day had been a catastrophe so far, so there was no other thing I wanted to do more than put on my Pjs, put some music on, and slowly work at my desk, thinking Tuesay will be a better day.

Tuesday was not a better day. Wednesday either. All my homework slowly started piling up on my desk to the point where it was starting to be difficult to keep track of it. And sleeping four hours a night wasn't doing my mental health any good. I knew I had two possibilities now ; sleep less but do my work, or skip some classes to work. It was beginning to get ridiculous, skipping classes so I could do my homework. I knew art schools were difficult, awfully so, but like most people I hadn't realized until then, in this very moment, standing in front of my desk completely covered in paint, canvas, my computer, sketches, inks... some brushes had fallen on the floor, staining it in their passage. My laptop was so dirty it wasn't in its original color anymore. There were blotches of paint, ink, and charcoal here and there that I couldn't remove the harder I had tried to, forcing me to give up. At some point I got so tired I put my paintbrush into my cup of tea/coffee, mistaking it with the goblet of water.

- ...Are you alright ?, enquired Mandy on Thursday night.

One look at my face and she had her answer. Bless her soul, she didn't need any more to bring me an energy drink from the fridge.

- I still have five portraits to do. Four pencil ones, and one painting. They all have to be from different angles, and I can't find any models, I complained while throwing my hand in the air in an act of pure desperation.

Mandy knew better than to sit at the edge of my risky desk with her designer clothes, so she leaned on the doorframe, slowly nodding her head in a pensive manner while I kept explaining the situation.

- All week I couldn't find anyone because they all had homework to do, and now most of them are skipping tomorrow's lecture to go home early so nobody's available !

My rommate crossed her arms, thinking hard. I already did almost all my paintings, asking for both her and Josh's help. Both of them were glad to help and even more so to figure on a monochrome painting on a canvas.

- Can you draw the same person multiple times ?, she finally asked.

- Actually... I don't know. I don't think that would be a problem as long as the work is done ?

Hopping on her feet, Mandy lifted an eyebrow before dragging a chair to sit on.

- Let's get into it then, we only have one lecture tomorrow, you can skip it I'll take notes for you.

Having a good night of sleep never felt this good. No. Waking up at 8, slowly realizing everybody was sitting on a lecture except me, and then getting back to sleep was way better. I sketched poor Mandy two times last night but the results were good, and she looked pleased herself. I didn't have time to redo any of these anyway, I still had other work to do. Waking me from my well deserved nap, my phone vibrated under the pillow, the screen blinding me despite the sun peaking through the curtains.

« The boys asked where you were. Told them about the portraits situation. Jake wants to help. Couldn't stop him. »

If the beginning of the text made me smile, the end completely shook me awake, making me sit hurriedly on the bed, rereading the words multiple times. Scratching my face, I quickly glanced at the hour. They were out in a few minutes. My fingers tapped the next message as soon as they could, asking her how and when, while I ran to the showers with my towel, soap and toothbrush in hand. At this hour, and a Friday, they were all available. The other residents were all either drunk as hell and passed out in their room, or in their hometown with their family and friends. The buzzing of my phone vibrating reverberated against the shower walls and it almost got drowned in the sink when I caught it to look at the screen. It was Mandy.

« They kinda invited themselves over to eat. Josh's idea.»

What the hell Joshua we're not your moms ! Throwing my phone to the nearest flat surface, I jumped on some discarded overalls and put on a sweater, wet hair dripping everywhere on the floor, table, but mostly on my clothes, making me sneeze in the process. The whole week I was so overwhelmingly busy with work that not only did my fingers hurt but I didn't have any time to see the Kiszkas let alone think about them since our shared lecture on Monday. I even skipped the Lunch Club in order to get back to the dorms and work on my assignments. Which thankfully saved me a lot of time, but I still had 2 pencil drawings to do and one painting. Once I had put on some makeup, I took a moment to look around me. Our place looked like a dump, no less. Clothes and art furniture were everywhere, the trash was overflowing with empty cup noodles and fast food leftovers, it smelled like perfume and soap mixing with rotten food, paint and cold tobacco. It was terrible, and made me shocked that I even got used to that. A life achievement of some sort. Everything on the floor I put it on a trash bag, running in the stairs to throw everything outside with the others'. My phone vibrated in my pocket, a new notification popping on the screen.

« They bought some stuff at the store, they wanna cook us something. Jake's idea. »

Okay, time to clean the kitchen.

By the time they got here, I looked even more tired than before, owing my guests looks of concern. If was funny, how they put on the exact same face while seeing me. It was like I just mirrored a picture. Their similar features would never cease to amaze me.

- Mama you're very pale.

- Did you not sleep well ?

- I did, don't worry, I dismissed their concern. Had to clean up a bit.

Mandy bit his lip, knowing damn well the place had been a war field when she left. Unaware of anything, the boys put the bags of groceries on the table before apologizing for intruding. We all sat around the table to have a pleasant talk, my friends always making sure I wasn't next to Jake to avoid any brutal peak of awkwardness / sadness. But some habits died hard, I realized when Jake asked if he could have a tour of our dorm. Ignoring glances, I stood up and gestured for him to go first, into the biggest room, were Mandy and I's workshop and beds were. The boy let out a low whistle that flattered me. He looked impressed by everything around him, touching odd looking brushes and browsing illustration books. I knew better this time, and had put his painted portrait under my bed, wrapped in an old sheet. Just as his brother did, he liked to take in his hands everything that came by, caressing it with his fingertips or idly lifting the weight of it in his palms like he was discovering an unknown world. Unmoving, I let Jake do his little tour, watching the street view by the window, sitting on my disheleved bed, jumping slightly to make the mattress bounce like he was testing it before buying.

- So this is where you're gonna paint me, he said, pointing at a chair between my desk and me.

My pale face grew some colors at the thought of it before I nodded quickly, in a childlike way, caressing the wooden chair's back.

- I'll try to be fast so you won't get bored, I assured without looking him in the eye.

It was this moment Josh chose to appear at the corner of the doorframe.

- Jakey we should start cooking or the potatoes will never be ready on time. Come on, doll.

He took me by one of my overalls' straps, pulling me inside the kitchen, making me laugh and pushing my shoulders so I stayed on my seat. Mandy and I gazed at them with awe as they poured us drinks while Jake asked where the spatula was, and Josh was washing the vegetables, already familiar with his surroundings.

In silence, I looked at Jake removing every one of his rings to put it on top of the fridge where no one could kick them, before tying his hair in a tight ponytail. Maybe it was because I only ever saw him with long brown locks framing his face, but he looked even better than usual. If he caught me staring, he didn't adress it, only smiled at me, turning his back to us to help his brother.

- Do you need any help ?, I asked while showing them where the frypans were. You guys are our guests it doesn't seem fair...

Of course the kitchen wasn't a real one, there was only a microwave and some hotplates fixed to a cabinet by the sink. Putting more than one person behind the counter was impossible without bumping into each other, and I could smell the accident from afar when Josh maneuvered the hot water filled pan at the same time Jake opened up a cupboard right above his curly head. Curiously so, probably because they had way more cooking experience than I thought, the boys handled the situation neatly, and Jake was the one preventing me from bumping into his brother.

- Go sit and relax, we've got this, he said while turning me around by the shoulders.

Watching boys make lunch had got to be some sort of ASMR because just watching the muscles of their back move while they were chopping onions and peeling potatoes had some real therapeutic effects on me. We continued chatting together, all the while answering their questions on « Where are the knives ? » and « Where do you keep the salt ? ». Kind of surprised that Josh had the permission of holding a kitchen knife, by the way, this part made me feel the absolute opposite of ASMR but he did a pretty good job, from what I could see. Mandy put on some music on the speakers, argued with Jake over the sound of it as to what was acceptable or not music-wise, and Josh made a show of crying because of the onions, yelling about becoming blind until Jake gently slapped the back of his head. It was all laughs and good conversation, like we've been friends for years, and at the same time I couldn't shake these feelings I had towards Jake. There was something extremely erotic about seeing a dude wearing a dishcloth on his shoulder. Or was it just Jake wearing it really well ?

They refused to tell us what we were eating, muttering to themselves and sometimes asking if we were allergic to this or that, only announcing it while putting the plate on the table, with Josh making grand gestures as usual, using his best waiter voice.

- Crêpes au zucchini accompanied by a fresh salad decorated with feta and its apple slices, ladies.

- Bon appétit, added Jake.

The table was already set because it was the only thing we were allowed to do, so at least the boys could now rest. It looked really good. Way less fancy than what Josh had announced of course but it smelled wonderful, the sweet scent settling in all of our dorm. And the taste, oh Lord. Everything melted in my mouth, the onions they fried were just crispy enough to add something to it, and I learned this day that cheese and apple were really good and refreshing together. A new snack idea I'd keep for my sleepless work nights at the desk. And as dessert, the boys brought beers. Of course.

[toraleistripe]

Dinner Together

Fandom(s): Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Crossover: no

Summary: Noir’s friend Julia ends up Miles’ dimension with him and is afraid that none of them will get home, finding comfort in a lovestruck cartoon pig.

Character(s): Spider-Ham, Julia (OC)

Pairing(s): one-sided Ham/Julia

A/N: Okay, so these two started off as a one-sided ship not long after I saw Into the Spider-Verse for the first time. I just love them together. Originally written 01/09/19.

Warnings: none

Julia sighed heavily, shifting her position yet again. She was sitting on the floor in front of Aunt May's couch, her back resting against it as she looked down at the Rubik's Cube in her hand. Noir was asleep behind her, stretched out across the couch, taking up the whole thing. The monochrome woman slowly turned the cube in her hand, fascinated by the small colored squares. 'I wonder how many more colors there are' She thought, trying to fight back a yawn.

"Hey, doll"

Julia jumped, turning to see the small cartoon pig standing at the end of the couch. "oh, hello, Ham"

"You okay?"

"mm, I'm just fine," Julia said quietly, still slowly fiddling with the cube.

"You don't sound too fine to me. Look fine, hell yes. Sound fine, not quite" Ham smirked and Julia couldn't help but laugh quietly at his flirty remark. "ah, that's what I was looking for!"

"what's that?"

"A smile"

Julia shook her head. "you really are something, Ham"

"So I've been told" The small pig wrung his hands together, suddenly seeming a bit nervous. "hey, uh, I might have something that'll make you feel better"

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"I was hoping you'd ask" He eagerly held his hand out. "Follow me, milady!"

Julia set the Rubik's Cube on the end table, taking the small creature's hand in her own as she stood, having to hunch over a bit since he was so much shorter than her. She wondered what on earth he could have up his sleeve as he quietly led her toward the double doors leading out to Aunt May's back porch. "Ham, what exactly are you-?" Julia started, but she cut herself off when she saw the small round table that had two place settings, two soda cans sitting next to plates with two big slices of pizza each. Two lawn chairs were set up on either side of the table, Ham now standing just behind one, rubbing his arm.

"Uh, Aunt May had some leftover pizza, I-I was hungry, was kinda hoping you'd be hungry too, so maybe, since this is probably the...the last day we'll ever see each other...maybe you'd like to have dinner with me? Besides, it'll give me a chance to turn your frown upside down!"

Julia swallowed, overwhelmed by the gesture. "That sounds wonderful," She said softly. She hadn't eaten since earlier that afternoon and the pizza smelled amazing. "You really didn't have to do this"

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," Ham said, pulling out a chair for her. She smiled slightly as she took a seat, slowly picking up the napkin sitting beside her plate. "This is..." Her face scrunched up a bit as she stared intently at the napkin in her hand. "This is blue, right?"

"That's right," Ham said, quickly zipping around the table and plopping down in his chair. "How about this one?" He held up his napkin.

"Um..." She frowned, not recognizing the color at all. "I-I don't know...I don't think I've ever seen that one before"

"This is purple," Ham said.

"Purple" Julia said slowly. "It's beautiful"

"A beautiful color for a beautiful lady"

Julia giggled. "You always know just what to say, don't you"

"I'd like to think so"

The two of them ate their pizza mostly in silence for a few minutes. They ended up moving from the table and sitting on the edge of the porch, their plates in their laps and their soda cans beside them as they started in on their second slices. There really wasn't much of a view, except for the shed and the fence behind it. But they had a pretty good view of the starry night sky, something that they both found themselves lost in as they sat there. Ham was the one that finally broke the silence.

"So, Jules, you gonna tell me what was bugging you before?"

Julia hesitated, setting her now empty plate beside her. "I just...I can't help but worry about what might happen tomorrow..."

"You mean with that collider doohickey?"

"Yes. What if...what if we can't get home?"

"You can't stress yourself out about that, doll" Ham said turning to look up at her. "We're all gonna do whatever it takes to get home, I don't doubt that. And we'll all be together until the end"

"Yes, I know. I'm still..." Julia hesitated. "Scared"

"And there's nothing wrong with that. This is a pretty scary situation. I mean, I may be a goofball, but even I know there's a time to be serious and this is it. And hey" He shyly reached over and put his hand over hers, bright red over pale gray. "I won't let anything happen to you, Julia"

Their eyes met and the young woman couldn't help but smile. That bright smile that made the small animals' heart beat faster. "I won't let anything happen to you either," She said softly. The two sat in silence a moment longer, finishing off the rest of their sodas before she spoke up again. "You know, there's one thing I'd like you to do for me, while we have time. If you're okay with it, that is"

"Honey, for you, anything. Just name it" Ham said, no hesitation in his voice.

"I..." She paused, wondering if what she was about to say was overstepping her boundaries. "I'd like to see your face. I'd like to know what you truly look like before we part ways"

Ham was silent, his ears twitching slightly. Julia suddenly felt nervous, worried that she had upset him. She was about to apologize when the pig reached up and pushed his mask back, letting it fall behind him where it hung down like a hoodie. Two big, cartoonish, yellow eyes stared up at her, a light blush crossing Ham's pink face, his snout twitching nervously. "so, uh, this is...me"

"Wow" Julia quirked an eyebrow, smiling. "And here I was, thinking you couldn't be any more adorable"

Ham's face turned as red as his suit. "You know, uh, y-you're the first one I've ever revealed myself to...no one back home knows who I really am"

"Really?"

"Really"

Julia put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm honored that you have so much trust in me"

"'Course I do, doll"

The monochrome woman leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I trust you too" She giggled as Ham stiffened, his eyes instantly forming into literal heart shapes, his body rising up and levitating off the ground a few inches as tiny hearts floated around his head. "Do you do that a lot?"

"No," Ham said dreamily. "No one's ever quite knocked my socks off the way you do, Julia"

She giggled, smiling down at him. The clock on the wall in the living room chimed, snapping the pig out of his love-struck daze. "It's getting late. We should try to get some sleep" Julia said. "We have a...a big day tomorrow"

"Yeah" Ham mumbled, frowning slightly. As much as he missed his dimension, he didn't want to think about going back just yet. He didn't want to think about leaving Julia.

The two of them cleaned up the table, quietly making their way into the house and to the kitchen, hoping they didn't wake anyone up. Julia fought back a yawn as she put their plates in the sink, running a hand through her hair. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so tired and she couldn't wait to crawl into the air mattress in Aunt May's guest room and go to sleep. The older woman had been kind enough to let her, Ham, Noir, Peni, and Peter stay with her for the night. Noir was still asleep on the couch, Peter was up in this dimension's Peter's old room, Julia and Peni were sharing the guest room with Julia planning on sleeping on Aunt May's air mattress so Peni could have the bed, and Ham was thinking of sleeping on the floor in the living room with a blanket and some pillows. "Tired, doll?" He asked quietly when Julia yawned again.

"mm. Very tired" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I hope I can actually get some sleep..." She suddenly looked very embarrassed.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just..." Julia rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "It's just, back in my dimension...I have an old stuffed horse that I've slept with since I was a little girl. I know it's silly, but even after all these years, it's...it's hard for me to sleep without him..." Her cheeks turned a dark shade of gray, which Ham took to mean she was blushing.

"Ah, that's nothing to be embarrassed about," Ham said.

"You don't think so?"

"Not at all" He yawned, stretching. "Well, goodnight, Julia. I hope you get some sleep tonight"

"Mm, me too. Goodnight" Julia said softly, smiling at him before she made her way upstairs. She slowly opened the guest room door. Peni was already in the bed asleep, SP/DR propped up at the end of the bed like a loyal dog, powered down for the night. The air mattress was inflated and ready to go on the floor beside the bed, a pillow and a few blankets lying on top of it. 'Here's hoping I can sleep' Julia thought, sighing as she quietly made her way over to the mattress, trying to be as quiet as possible as she fluffed up the pillow and rearranged the blankets. She flopped down tiredly, yawning as she pulled the blankets up over herself, taking off her glasses and tucking them beneath her pillow, figuring they'd be safe there for the night. She moved onto her side and closed her eyes, trying her best to relax. Two minutes went by and she didn't feel very relaxed, even though she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was get some sleep, especially since she and the others had such a big day ahead of them. But no matter what position she got in, she could not get comfortable. "This is going to be a long night" She whispered to herself, sighing heavily. Just as she was about to get up, the sound of the door slowly creaking open caught her attention. She sat up quickly, her senses on high alert.

"Julia?"

The monochrome woman sighed with relief at the sight of the small pig. "Ham, you startled me"

"Sorry, doll" He whispered. "Just wanted to check on you"

A small smile tugged at her lips. "That's very sweet"

"You look exhausted. Trouble falling asleep?"

"Yes," Julia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm so ridiculous, I'm a grown woman, I shouldn't need a stuffed animal to help me sleep. I'm such a fool"

"Nah, of course, you're not," Ham said. "I'm having a hard time sleeping, myself. Being in another dimension, away from home...it's a lot to deal with"

"It is indeed"

Ham rubbed his arm nervously, chucking a little. "You know, I-I just got the craziest idea..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah...I'm no stuffed animal, but, uh, I'd be a hell of a good substitute, you know, if you're interested..."

Julia blinked, giggling quietly. "Is that right?"

"I-I can just go, I mean, if you'd rather not..." Ham said quickly, clearly embarrassed that he'd even made the suggestion.

"Just get over here, you," Julia said. Ham didn't need to be told twice. He was beside the air mattress in a matter of seconds and Julia slid over a bit, pulling back the blankets for him. He slid in beside her, sighing as she put her arm around him, making sure they both had enough room on the pillow. "Comfortable?"

"Um, y-yeah" He mumbled, his ear twitching. "I'm good"

Julia smiled, kissing the top of his head. "Goodnight" She whispered.

Ham swallowed nervously, his heart beating faster as his eyes once again took on the form of heart shapes. "G-Goodnight, Julia". He slowly tucked his head beneath her chin, snuggling against her. The two of them started to relax after only a few moments and it wasn't long before they were drifting off to sleep. Turns out Ham was right.

He was no stuffed animal, but he made one hell of a substitute.

[pickalilywrites]

Request for a part 2 of the rivetra magicians au?

ty for asking for it ^^ i love this au and it’s always nice to revisit aus i’ve written before!

Is This Your Card? 

Rivetra. Magicians AU. 

Something Like Magic series: Part I

3631 words. 

Buy me a ko-fi!

Levi has done this routine hundreds of times. It’s one of his easier tricks, just rearranging the cards about quickly while distracting the audience with something in the background. He should be able to do this with his eyes closed, and yet something feels strangely off as he shuffles the deck. He can’t place his finger on what it is, and he can’t stop and check to see what it is lest he ruin the illusion. Instead, he continues to shuffle the cards from one hand to another – one of the fancier ways of ordering the cards that he tries to avoid because he finds it pretentious – but he finds nothing. Irritated, he finally allows the deck to sit in his hand and holds up what should have been the volunteer’s card.

“Is this your card?” Levi asks gruffly, already knowing the answer.

“No,” the volunteer says, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He squints at the card, leaning closer as he checks once more. “That’s not my card. I picked a different one…”

“Sir,” a voice speaks up from behind Levi. It’s not one that Levi is familiar with, but he knows he’s heard it before. When he turns around, he sees a woman with a mischievous grin, and he knows exactly who it is. “I believe this is your card.” She holds up a card – ace of spades – showing it around for everyone else to see. Showy as always.

“That’s my card!” the man says in surprise. He looks at the woman, grinning from ear to ear. He must think it’s part of the show, this woman appearing out of nowhere and displaying a trick even more impressive than anything Levi has done so far tonight, oblivious to the fact that this show woman is only here to sabotage Levi’s show.  “You’re amazing! How did you do that?”

“Magic,” the woman replies, giving the man a roguish wink.

“Ral,” Levi growls.

“Ackerman!” Petra says cheerfully. She gives a quick wave to his assistants behind him – Farlan and Isabel. “Nice to see you guys too!”

“Ooh, Petra!” Isabel says excitedly, ignoring the worried look from Farlan and the seething glare from Levi. When the young woman utters the famous magician’s name, people in the audience begin to crane their necks to look at the woman who had just arrived. “We didn’t know you were here! I didn’t even see you!”

“Well, you know me,” Petra laughs, shrugging. “I like to surprise people.” She even has the audacity to smile graciously at the people now clambering over each other to try to get a peek at her, waving at her fans that are snapping photos of her on their phones so they can show their friends. If she wanted this sort of attention, she should have held her own show elsewhere, Levi thinks.

“Isabel’s right. I didn’t see you at all,” Levi says. He should have noticed her sooner – her ginger hair is difficult to miss – but then again, she’s not dressed in those ridiculously flashy outfits that she typically dons for her shows. Out in the streets, she’s dressed plainly; her attire consists almost entirely of monochrome – a black coat, gray jeans, and snow-white ankle boots. The only pop of color on her is a vibrant red scarf. The color should clash terribly with her hair, but Levi would have to grudgingly admit that she looks pleasant, the color of the scarf bringing out shades of auburn in her hair that Levi hadn’t noticed before.

“Well, I didn’t want to distract you guys,” Petra replies. She looks at him, her smile barely suppressed. “But I guess I didn’t do such a great job, huh? I really couldn’t help myself though.”

He’s about to snap at her, tell her that she hardly tried at all, but he feels a tug on his sleeve. Levi whirls around, glaring, only to find Farlan behind him.

“We still have a show to put on,” Farlan says, his eyes flickering to the crowd around them.

“Fine,” Levi mutters, yanking himself away from Farlan. He glances back at Petra, who only gives him a cheerful smile. He does his best to face the crowd with his best face, but he feels his expression turn into a scowl when he hears them whisper her name, some even rude enough to ask her to step in during the show at some point and do tricks of her own. Although she has the sense to decline, Levi’s mood doesn’t improve. In fact, it gets worse as the show goes on. All his tricks go according to plan this time – levitation, vanishing acts, and transformations – but even he can tell that his execution is messy. Not that the audience cares. Their attention is on something else, someone else – the ginger-haired woman behind him pretending to be engrossed in his little magic tricks. Then again, Levi also finds himself distracted by the woman, his attention always flickering over to her rather than staying on the objects he’s meant to be manipulating. He’s almost grateful when Farlan taps him on the shoulder, whispering that he and Isabel will take over the remainder of the show.

Levi watches the rest of the performance from a distance, wanting to get as far away as possible from the woman as he could. He swore not to even give the woman a fleeting glance, but he finds his gaze straying towards her more than once or twice during Isabel and Farlan’s performances. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s far too invested in the act on stage.

He’s relieved when the show finally ends, and the crowd disperses. If he’s quick enough, he can find Farlan and Isabel, and the three of them can slip away without having to be trapped in a conversation with that woman. He thinks he’s about to get away with it too when he shoves past the crowd and makes it to Farlan and Isabel until he feels an arm loop through his.

“Hey, Levi. You were walking awfully fast there. It was like you were trying to get away from me,” that voice says. He’s not surprised when he looks to his side and sees Petra there, her amber eyes twinkling playfully at him. “But you know you can never escape an escape artist.”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles. He looks at her with a sour expression, wondering why she’s here at all.

“Petra!” Isabel’s voice is heard loud and clear over the crowd. The redhead's hand pops out from the sea of people, waving the two magicians over. When Levi and Petra arrive, Isabel grins widely, greeting Petra as if they’re old friends. “Did you see my routine? What did you think of it?”

“Oh, absolutely, I loved it!” Petra gushes. “Although, I think you could be a little more discreet when you’re stealing. The man probably didn’t notice you slipping his watch into your pocket, but I sure did.”

“Oh, come on,” Isabel says with a laugh, not at all ashamed at being caught. She pulls out the watch – a slick black obsidian piece with gold accents – and grins at the others. Compared to other watches that are riddled with gears and gizmos, this one looks quite plain, but it’s five times more expensive than the average wristwatch. Levi’s told her to quit stealing a while ago – they’ve been making enough bank that they no longer had to resort to petty thievery to survive – but even he has to admit that Isabel’s got a good eye for money. “If that guy didn’t notice, it’s fine. You’re just too perceptive, Petra!”

“Maybe,” Petra laughs. She turns over to Farlan, giving him that same friendly smile as if the two have been friends for years. “And you, Mr. Church, were amazing as always. I think that woman’s eyes were about to pop out of her head when you were able to guess the name of her grandmother.”

“It’s all in the job,” Farlan says with a shrug. He begins to smile at her, but Levi clears his throat and Farlan quickly wipes the smile from his face.

“Well, you’re good at what you do,” Petra tells him. She tilts her head up at him, reaching up to tuck a lock of her ginger hair behind her ear. “Do you think you could read my mind right now?”

Farlan doesn’t reply. He stares at her for a long time, studying her face. He takes longer than he usually does with his subjects. At most, he takes a second or two, but he stares at Petra for almost a minute before he opens his mouth. “I think some things are better left as a surprise, wouldn’t you agree?” he finally says, but he looks at her with such intrigue that Levi’s not sure if Farlan had just given up being able to read her.

She smiles again – how is she always smiling? – and asks Levi, “How on earth did you manage to get such a good mentalist? Gunter’s quite good, but he likes to over embellish details at times.”

He should know better than to snap at her, but he can’t help it. “Is that what you came here for? You wanted to charm Farlan and Isabel away from me?”

“Oh, Levi, if I wanted to steal your friends from you, I would have done it ages ago. I’m very charming, you know,” Petra jokes, the corner of her mouth quirked upward. She doesn’t seem at all intimidated by Levi’s harsh glare. “I actually came here to watch your show. I’ve told you before, I’m a huge fan.”

Levi glances at Farlan from the corner of his eye and sees the blond shift slightly. Both of them know that the woman is holding back. “What else?” Levi asks her. “You wouldn’t be here for a show you could catch on YouTube later tonight.”

“But the video resolutions are so bad,” Petra says with her eyebrows raised. When he doesn’t laugh, she sighs. “Fine, you got me. I actually have a proposition for you, Levi, but I just want you to hear me out. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”

Levi opens his mouth to respond, but Petra holds up a hand.

“Hey, let’s discuss it first before you say no. I might be able to change your mind,” she laughs. Her eyes flicker over to Isabel and Farlan before returning to Levi. “Want to do this over a coffee? I’m buying.”

“We’d love to!” Isabel says, but Farlan holds her back, shushing her.

“We actually wanted to check out this restaurant that we saw a little earlier,” Farlan says, his hand clamped over Isabel’s mouth. He yelps when the feisty redhead licks his palm, and he pulls away, glaring. Isabel simply sticks her tongue out at him. Returning his attention back to Petra, he smiles apologetically and says, “Maybe we could all grab coffee together another time?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to?” Petra asks, but Farlan is already pulling Isabel away.

“Yeah, it’s fine! Have fun!” he says, dragging a grumpy Isabel behind him. He waves at both Petra and Levi. “Levi, we’ll meet you back at the hotel tonight!”

Petra watches them leave for a bit before turning back to Levi. Her hands are shoved in her pockets, and she looks at him almost bashfully before asking, “So, shall we go?”

Normally, he would decline immediately. However, his interest is piqued, and he’s not one to say no to a free coffee. It had better be good coffee though.

“Let’s go,” Levi says, walking right past the arm she offers out to him. He only turns back when she points out that he doesn’t even know where they’re going.

In the end, he follows her to a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. It’s a little bit brighter than he would like it, and he despises the cheerful pop music that plays overhead, but at least it’s quiet enough to talk over it easily. Some people sit in the corners playing board games while others chatter on the phone. It’s certainly not a place Levi would have chosen. He prefers darker, quieter atmospheres where he can enjoy his caffeine in peace, but he can’t say he’s surprised in Petra’s coffee shop choice. After all, this place seems to suit her bright personality, he thinks as he waits for her to retrieve their orders, a black for him and a macchiato for her.

He looks up when a steaming cup is placed before him. “Before we get started, tell me how you got that card?” His frown deepens when he sees her smile as she sits down across from him.

“I just took it from your pocket when you were playing around with the cards, shuffling them here and there. It wasn’t actually that difficult to get close to you,” she replies. She holds her coffee with both hands, using it to warm up her fingers. She blows on it lightly, the foam drifting to the edge of her cup, before taking a sip. Before she continues, she licks the foam from her lips. “You’re very good, though. I had to watch videos of you hundreds of times before I figured out your technique. I’ve never tried to do your card tricks myself. I don’t think I’d ever be able to match you.”

He looks at her through narrowed eyes, wondering if she’s patronizing him. Her shows are in an entirely different realm than his. While Levi has practiced street magic for years, he’s only known Petra to do stage magic dressed up in sparkly outfits while the overdressed audience sits with a glass of wine in their hands. He doesn’t know why on earth she would even want to do card tricks when she usually does more showy tricks. Surely, she must be making fun of him, he thinks, but she’s being genuine in her compliment as far as he can tell. Grudgingly, he finally says, “Thank you.”

“And that’s an interesting deck of cards you have too,” Petra says, sitting up straighter in her chair. She sits on the edge of her seat, leaning forward so that part of her hair falls in her face. “I was wondering if you would let me look at it, actually.”

“Why?” he asks, immediately suspicious.

The woman across from him only shrugs, sitting back as if to seem less threatening. “Just curious. I think it’s a very beautiful deck. A little worn, but very beautiful.”

His hands fly to his pocket where he hides his cards. He’s thinking against giving her the deck, but he’s finding it hard to find a reason to deny her request. It is only a deck of cards after all. Reluctantly, he pulls out the deck from his pocket and sits it down in the center of the table.

Petra sets down her drink before reaching across the table and taking the deck of cards. She pulls the cards from their shabby box and admires the design. The motif on the back, once a slick black, is now faded so that it’s almost gray. The edges, once sharp, are now blunt and the corners rounded. Even the pictures of the kings and queens and aces are no longer crisp, their design so faded that one must stare at them to really see what they once looked like. Still, Petra smiles as she looks through each one before finally putting down a card – the ace of spades, the very card she had taken from him earlier today.

“Want me to read your cards for you?” she asks him.

Levi raises an eyebrow. “Do you do tarot readings now?”   

“Not at all,” she grins.

“Tch.” He takes a sip of his coffee, feeling a little less agitated when he tastes the bitterness. “Are you just here to waste my time?”

“That wasn’t the plan, but I can fit it in my schedule,” she jokes. It seems that she derives pleasure from his irritation because she only grins wider when he scowls at her. She puts the cards in a stack face-down and begins to arrange them into a pyramid. “It’s not anything that needs to be settled now. We can definitely talk about it more later. I just wanted to suggest it to you.”

Ah, Levi despises it when people talk in circles like this. He’d rather they just say what they mean. Irritated, he snaps, “Spit it out already then. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

She seems undeterred by how harshly he asks his question. Instead, she calmly finishes placing another two cards on the pyramid. “I was thinking about a collaboration,” she finally tells him, smiling at him hopefully. She clasps her hands together. “Your guys and my guys. I think it’d be grand.”

The proposition is so ridiculous that Levi has to stare at her for a second to make sure that she’s serious. When it appears that she is, he begins to shake his head. “No. No, no, no,” Levi says. He pounds on the table, hard enough to make the delicate card pyramid shake but gentle enough to ensure that it didn’t. “It’ll never work.”

“Never say never,” Petra says. She plays with her coffee cup, tracing her finger lightly around the rim. “You don’t think a collaboration would be a good idea? I think it’d be great to combine our talent. We could put on a show that would be unlike any other.”

She’s far too insistent about this show, he thinks. It’s too suspicious. “And why would you want to work so closely with me?” he asks. He glares at her, but her gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you want to know my tricks? Do you want to steal them from me? Are you excited to try them out in front of others when you eventually drop this idea of a collaboration and run away with all my hard work?”

She looks as if he’d hit her with every accusation. Petra doesn’t say a word, just sits there silently staring, and she finally opens her mouth. He’s sure he’s caught her red-handed, that he’s found her out and her true intentions behind meeting him today, but she closes her mouth and stands up, her chair screeching against the tile. For the first time, she looks angry, her expression livid and her eyes full of fire. Leaning down, she hisses, “I wanted a collaboration because I’m a huge fan of your work. I’ve always admired you even before I started to pursue this career. I thought it would be an honor to meet you, and I thought it would be incredible to work side by side with you, but I see you’re far too secretive. I just wanted to put on a show with you, Ackerman, and make something almost like magic for people to see.”

He blinks, stunned. He’s seen her show before and knows she’s got talent as an actress, but he’s not sure if she’s gifted enough to feign such fury. Had she been honest this entire time? “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says stupidly.

Petra opens her mouth once more and he’s sure that she’s going to shout at him, but she only sighs. Tiredly, she brushes her hair behind her ear and pushes in her chair gently. Her fingers tap the back of the chair. “I…I know you’re very protective of your work, so I won’t push this on you.” She doesn’t look at him as she talks anymore, her eyes flicker to the house of cards and the ceiling instead. “We both love what we do, so I understand you…so think about it, alright? Just contact me if you ever change your mind.”

Levi furrows his brow, wondering why she was still leaving the collaboration open. He’s about to ask her if she’s sure it’s a good idea – they’re not exactly on the best of terms and he’s only made things worse – but she’s already shuffling out of the café, her bag slung over her shoulder.

Sighing, Levi rests his head in his hands and wonders if he had overreacted. Was it really wrong of him to be so suspicious? There is that expression about a magician and his secrets, after all. He looks up, frowning at the house of cards Petra had left behind. He lifts a finger to gently prod the structure and the entire thing comes tumbling down, the cards fluttering onto the coffee table. He’s about to sigh again, thinking about the mess he needs to clean up, when he notices something curious. The cards have all fallen face-down except for one – the queen of hearts. Gingerly, Levi picks it up, inspecting it and he notices that there’s something scribbled on the side of it. A phone number. When had she put that there, he wonders.

He wonders if it would be a good idea to call after everything that had happened. He’s still not sure a collaboration could happen even if he were completely willing. Levi looks at the card once more, his thumb running over the neat numbers written in blue ink. He puts it down the table before pulling out his phone, entering the numbers. He puts the phone up to his ear, listening to the phone ring, and wonders if she’d be willing to listen to an apology. And maybe they can set up another coffee date, he thinks. They should discuss the collaboration further at the very least. He’s just hoping that she’ll be willing to forgive him.

[cieloxcnco]

yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch5

Chapter 5

Words: 4,000+

Warnings: hardly even bad language in this chapter. I know, I’m surprised too.

A/N: I’ve been super busy lately, so I’m sorry for the delay but I appreciate you all still reading. any feedback at all you have is so so appreciated.

chapter 1 is here chapter 2 is here chapter 3 is here chapter 4 is here if you need to catch up.

The clear gel was shockingly cold against he skin as the sonographer rubbed it over Isa’s protruding belly. She winced at the uncomfortable feeling but smiled as Kaja eagerly shook her left hand. You would think that she was in the delivery room from the way she was flanked by her friend and mother-in-law holding her hands so tight. They stared at the monitor intently, anxious to see live what they have so far only seen in printed pictures. Noemi tore her eyes away from the screen for a quick moment before she looked down to investigate Isa’s whimper. “You okay, Isabella?” Isa nodded. “Fine. It just feels weird.” She didn’t recall ever seeing Kaja smile so widely. “This is so exciting,” she squealed. “I let you come and see last time with Joaquin,” Isa laughed. She shrugged, but her enthusiasm couldn’t be contained. “It doesn’t mean it’s any less exciting. It’s a new little baby I can’t wait to meet.” Noemi’s voice was quiet but Isa saw her eyes smiling. “My baby is having another baby.” “You still really want the gender to be a surprise?” Kaja whined. “We won’t tell Zabdiel. Swear.” Noemi didn’t echo the sentiment, but her smile told Isa enough that she didn’t need to. She was waiting just as anxiously. “He wants to wait until the baby is here to find out,” Isa answered simply. “And what about you?” Noemi prodded. Isa bit her lip, trying to contain her smile and clearly failing. Kaja’s jaw dropped and she chided her, “She knows! She knows and she won’t tell any of us!” Isa blushed and averted her eyes, her secret out. Noemi patted the hand of hers she was holding and smiled. “Well, if she does, that’s her choice. Her pregnancy is her journey and everything involved is her decision.” Kaja rolled her eyes. “But do I get to buy tutus or soccer jerseys for my new niece or nephew?” she groaned. “Buy onesies with CNCO printed all over them and the baby will wear them either way. Anything Dolce & Gabbana, we'll be good,” Isa suggested. Kaja grunted lightly in disapproval. “I’m gonna bribe the nurse. I’ll get you to spill eventually. I’ll figure it out somehow.” Isa chuckled. “Good luck.” The sonographer moved the transducer over the gel coating her stomach. “Alright, Mrs. de Jesus, we’re going to try to get a good look and check on our baby here, okay?” Isa nodded and fixed her eyes to the monitor to see whatever fuzzy monochrome images of her daughter would come on the screen. “It’s a girl,” Kaja concluded aloud. “How do you figure that?” Isa questioned, still scanning the screen for when she’d appear. “You can’t even see the baby yet.” “If it was another boy, you would have told us already,” she surmised. “Zabdiel would be over the moon if he had another little boy. The only reason he wouldn’t want to think about it would be because he's scared it’s a girl.” “You can have your theories,” Isa answered. “And if I was wrong, you would have told me right now that I’m crazy,” she added. “Well you’re crazy regardless,” Isa joked. “It could be another boy,” Noemi murmured. “It could be that since it’s what we expected that we have nothing surprising about this time around so they’re waiting until he’s here.” “Like I said,” Isa went on, “have your theories. But you’ll find out when the baby is out. Zabdiel wants a surprise, it’ll be a surprise.” Kaja rolled her eyes and giggled. “And since when do you listen to what Zabdiel has to say?” “Kaja,” Noemi warned lightly. Kaja winked. “It’ll be more of a surprise to him if everyone knew but him, don’t you think?” "Well right now,” Isa interjected, “all that’s gonna show on the screen is an empty stomach. I’m starving.” Noemi tapped her daughter-in-law’s hand gently. “Jasmyn is going to meet us with Aaliyah and Miguel for lunch in half an hour. We’ll get you and the little one in here something to eat, don’t worry.” “Okay, Mrs. de Jesus, the heartbeat sounds wonderful,” the sonographer interrupted gently. “The baby isn’t breech like Dr. Kirkpatrick believed, so that’s good. The doctor will be in momentarily to review this and get you going.” Noemi wiped a tear from beneath her eye, staring at the wriggling figure of the little fetus. “Mira a la carita… Looks like my baby as a baby… I can no wait to meet you, amor.” She kissed the tips of her index and middle finger and touched them to the small screen, immediately apologizing for the smudge as the doctor walked into the room. The doctor examined Isa, reviewed how the baby was developing, and sent them on our way, but not without the three extra copies of sonogram prints Noemi asked to bring home with them. It wasn’t a far trip from the obstetrician’s office to the restaurant where Jasmyn was meeting them with Miguel and Aaliyah for lunch. “Tia Isa,” Aaliyah yelled, beaming. “Hola mi vida,” Isa said, kneeling and hugging her tight, careful not to lose her balance. “¿Donde esta Tio Zabdiel?” she asked, shifting into her booster seat. “He’s at the studio with Papi,” Jasmyn said softly. “We’ll see him tonight.” She reached for the crayons on the table and began to color the paper placemat. “I draw a picture for him.” Jasmyn ended the embrace with Noemi and kissed both Isa’s cheeks. “How did everything go at the doctor with our little… Niño? Niña?” “Save it,” Kaja interrupted, “She won’t tell you. She won’t tell any of us.” Jasmyn smirked, touching the top of Isa’s stomach. “Una niña. I can tell.” “Sientanse, chicas,” Noemi urged, clicking the buckles of the restaurant high chair she had secured Miguel into. “We never really have time to enjoy with each other. Please, sit.” Isa scanned over the menu as Jasmyn stirred her straw absentmindedly in her glass. “So if you won’t tell us whether the baby is a boy or girl, can you at least tell us what you were hoping for? Or what Zabdiel’s hoping for?” “A healthy baby,” Isa answered, still reading the options rather than looking at her. “The politically correct answer,” Jasmyn groaned with a roll of her eyes. “The truth,” Isa insisted. Jasmyn smiled now but bounced anxiously. “I know but I’m just so excited.” “You’ll find out eventually,” Isa giggled, rubbing up and down her forearm comfortingly. Aaliyah scribbled in wild blue circles over a stick figure she’d created on the paper. “And here is the baby in Tia Isa’s belly- azul porque es un niño.” Kaja smirked knowingly and tapped her nails against the side of her water glass. Isa giggled, not even looking up from her menu. "I didn't tell her anything, so whatever she's saying is pure speculation.” Kaja narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s exactly what you want me to think.” Once they ordered their food, the conversation went around in small circles, always about the same. The new album, Isa’s pregnancy, and Aaliyah please don’t do that. Isa tried to focus on helping her niece with her scribbles, avoiding Noemi's glance. As much as she adored her mother-in-law and all she did for her, it caused the guilty sensation in the pit of her stomach to swirl. If she could hardly look her husband in the eye most of the time, she could much less look at his mother. Isa’s focus fell to her water glass, staring at it blankly as her thoughts began to race. She didn’t deserve the de Jesus family and how they put her on a pedestal, even though her husband didn’t. Zabdiel had his usual turn around since the last time they’d had sex. First he tried to be more physically affectionate, but grabbing her around her waist from behind and kissing up her neck felt more like trying to initiate round two than just wanting to be close and remind her that she was loved. Most everything he tried was rebuffed for that reason alone. Then he quickly backslid into the typical actions of only the most basic of attention necessary to get through the day, more quiet in her presence, gradually turning into almost nothing at all. There were the sporadic hills in between- an attempt at affection and then absence again - but the lull of nothing was the longest and the most threatening. Isabella’s phone vibrated in her pocket, reminding her that it’d been two minutes since it first had alerted her to a text from Christopher asking how the appointment went and hoping she was having a nice time out. Isa didn’t want to unlock it and see that there was nothing unread from Zabdiel showing any concern about her or the pregnancy at all. For her family, friends, and the sake of his fame, Isa pretended to be happy. She was absolutely miserable. She was with someone she was falling, maybe had already fallen, out of love with and was in love with someone she couldn’t be with. The little girl inside her womb wiggled and she’d usually be distracted and entranced with her movements but Isa just gulped down the knot in her throat and sat unmoving. “Isa,” Kaja murmured, tugging gingerly on her elbow. “Are you alright?” Isa snapped from her daze. “Hmm?” “Come on. Come with me to the bathroom,” she pleaded in a way that made it seem like a suggestion but Isa knew better. “Sure,” she replied, struggling over her belly bump to right myself in the chair before following her into the restroom. “You looked completely spaced,” she said once the door behind them had shut. “Do you feel sick? Are you okay?” Isa’s frustration and despondence had clouded over her usual exaggerated answer of “oh, of course, everything is fantastic.” She ran her hands under the warm water of the faucet only to splash her face with it afterwards. “Take a minute,” Kaja urged, watching her as if she was a bomb set to explode and she was taking note of how much time remained on the clock. “Just frustrated,” Isa murmured. Telling the girlfriend of one of her husband’s bandmates wasn’t exactly going to keep any exposed detail secret for long. Telling her friend was almost a given, as studying her expression told her almost all she needed to know without her say. “They said at the appointment that everything is okay with the baby. Is something going on with Zabdiel?” Isa was so accustomed to the fake smile and answer for everyone else, but not her. Isa didn’t answer with words but she was sure the falter in my face gave it away. Kaja sat on the counter beside the row of sinks. “Talk to me.” “He’s just been so distant,” Isa offered finally. “He only seems to want to be around me to have sex and nothing else. We don’t talk, we don’t love, we just… are here. He doesn’t engage about the baby unless he’s prompted to and I just worry that while I thought everything was coming together that we’re falling apart.” She jumped down from the ledge immediately and pulled her friend into a hug. “I’m so sorry, bean.” Isa bit back the tears that threatened to fall. She had no right to be sad or upset. If the whole story came to the surface, she was the villain. She couldn’t blame Zabdiel for not wanting to touch the same places where Christopher had. At the same time, the less that Zabdiel wanted to hold he, the more alluring being in Christopher’s arms became. Kaja took a paper cup from the dispenser on the wall and filled it with tap water for her to sip and calm down. “The work on the new album has been rough on all of them,” she suggested gently. “I know they've all been away from home more than we’d like. I don’t think he’s doing it maliciously.” Christopher had the same schedule and he made time for Isa when Zabdiel found reasons to be somewhere else. “I know. He just seems to be busy when I know the band has downtime. It just makes me wonder.” Kaja arched her eyebrow as Isa sipped the water. “You think he’s cheating on you?” Isa nearly spit out her drink. “What?!” The idea itself wasn’t preposterous. The fact that she had been so obsessed with her own affair to entertain the idea that her husband was having one of his own was. “Oh, no, Zabdiel isn’t like that. None of them are. I just thought that was what you were insinuating,” Kaja explained quickly. Isa tried not to scoff. None of them are? Kaja didn’t know them as well as Isa did, clearly. But no one knew Christopher like Isa did. “No, I just think he’s lost interest in me, and trying to do all the stuff for the baby with everyone being excited about us being this happy couple… It just isn’t real anymore and it’s frustrating.” “It’s hectic now, but I promise it’ll get better.” Kaja hugged Isa tighter, forgetting the cup and squishing it between them. Kaja eventually brought Isa back out to have lunch, but even though she was eating for not just herself, she couldn’t even fake an appetite. Noemi’s concern was quiet but obvious. Isa knew she’d hear something about it later, but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to do anything now in peace. Noemi scrutinized her plate. “Everything okay, Isa? You had said how hungry you were.” “The baby is just making me nauseous,” Isa said with a shrug. Noemi nodded in acknowledgment but Isa knew she wasn’t buying that completely. Never to stop for a moment, preparations immediately began when they returned for dinner- Noemi had decided a long day at the studio was going to be celebrated by a small feast Isa wanted no part in making. Her apprehension was easily excused as pregnancy fatigue, so she was able to sit and hear all about her son’s day out with Tio Carlos when he returned with Zabdiel’s brother about an hour later. Half an hour after that, the cars began filling the driveway and the prickling crawl of anxiety traveled up her spine. The dread of dealing with this feeling of impasse with her husband was always overshadowed by the thrill of knowing she would see Christopher’s honey eyes, but the two sensations mingled like a sweet tasting poisonous cocktail. It tasted amazing but God was it going to be the end of her. The only greeting she got from Zabdiel was a wave and a wink while he hugged their son and his brother in turn. That was fine by her when Christopher entered the room instead and hugged her close. “Hola, preciosa,” he said with his signature smirk. “¿Como estas?” His lips grazed her cheek and Isa tried to hide that she shuddered. “¿Como fue la cita con el doctor?” Her blood ran cold as Krista followed in behind them and grabbed Christopher’s hand. She was immediately too nauseated to recall the question. Noemi poked her head in the room to grab all of their attention. “Ya, a comer, todos! La cena está lista! Y Chris, no te preocupes, yo tengo los fotos.” She did a small dance as she walked into the dining room, giddy about anything she could share about her newest grandchild. Dinner was the same as lunch, the same circular conversation only with the band being able to share more about the new music. When Erick started talking about the captivating melody on the latest track that was composed entirely by Zabdiel, it was the first time in the longest that Isa had seen a proud smile grace his lips. She clasped her hand over his knee in supportive comfort and he squeezed her hand in return. Isa didn’t need to look in Chris’ direction to know that seeing her interact with her husband meant his gaze was on fire. The table had started debating on whether they were Team Niño or Team Niña when Isa got up to begin washing dishes and not have to listen to the same repetitive talk- that everyone knew more about what was happening in her belly than she did. She was so on autopilot trying to clean to relax my anxiety that she hadn’t heard Zabdiel approach from behind and kiss her cheek as his arms wrapped about her waist. “Y ¿a donde tu vas, hermosa?” The endearment made a smile flash on her face. “Tengo que lavar los platos, amor. Me voy a la cocina.” “Despues, cielo. Relajate,” he reasoned. “Come back- sit with me. I missed you all day.” Her eyebrows furrowed. Missed her? “¿De veras?” “Claro que si,” he answered, pressing another kiss to the crown of her head. “Yo no quería molestarte cuando estaban almorzando con ellas pero yo estaba pensando en la cita con el doctor todo el dia. Yo siempre pienso en ti, pero… Hoy te extrañé mas, yo no sé.” He spun her around in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers. As Isa gazed into his chocolate eyes, she realized how lucky she was. Her husband was, indeed, gorgeous. His chiseled features made him look like some sort of Greek God come to Earth. His tan skin was smooth and flawless, and his eyes were piercing. It wasn’t that he appeared cold, but he could touch your soul by just glancing at you once. That was what scared her most- she hoped he couldn’t see through her. There was not a moment of every day that she did not try to analyze the reason she did what she did before the shift in our relationship occurred, before they were so far apart when they were next to each other; who could ask for more from this perfection? Apparently she did. During the moments of frustration, Isa could put the blame on him in her mind. He has been avoiding her, he has been distancing himself, he’s pushed her away. But in moments like this when she saw him trying to reignite the spark, she knew she was the wind immediately extinguishing the flame and the guilt was unbearable. “Te amo,” he murmured. The thought of it killed her. This was the man she had promised her life and unwavering devotion to, and Isa couldn’t say the same to him. He had said he’d treasure her forever, and she could barely talk to him at all anymore because the shame she felt made her feel even more ill than she already was. This alone was more genuine attention than he’d shown her in weeks, and she didn’t want to turn that possibility away this time. But then again, it raised doubts. Did he truly love her? He could say it- he said it over and over. But actions speak louder than words and when was the last time he proved it? Could he just have had a little too much to drink and be talking nonsense? Was Kaja on to something - that his distance was due to him being comforted by another woman? His smile took her breath away and her racing thoughts came to a halt. Unable to reply, Isa kissed him tentatively. He gently took soft, slow, intoxicating drags on her lips, gasping at the feel of her against him. Isa slid her fingers down his cheek and his hand gripped the side of her waist. She wasn’t used to any genuine display of affection from him, and the renewed feeling was such welcomed attention that she leaned into him and reciprocated. Krista carefully slid the door open, more dishes in her hands, softly clearing her throat until they separated. “Hey, we were wondering where you two had gone.” “Why? ¿Qué pasó?” Zabdiel asked. “Noemi needs you.” Zabdiel walked out of the room and Krista glanced at Isabella. “You know,” Krista pointed out, “you’re lucky to have someone that cares about you so much.” Isa shook her head, not thinking that she heard her correctly. “What do you mean?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I mean Zabdiel absolutely adores you.” “Chris is head over heels for you,” Isa said quickly in hopes of Krista dropping the subject. She sighed, dejected. “Not the way Zabdiel is for you. Chris is always so preoccupied. He never pays attention to me anymore. He buries himself in music and rehearsal to avoid everything and everybody. He’s civil towards you, at least.” Krista shrugged again and was about to say something else when they both heard a loud scream of, “Oh my God!” coming from the backyard. Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran outside to see Kaja and Joel embracing, tears running down Kaja’s face. “Kaja,” Isa gasped, “are you okay?” Joel let her out of his arms and she nodded, walking over to the group and displaying a large diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. “We’re getting married!” Zabdiel looked around, passing Joaquin to Chris. “You want to marry this loco? You sure you don’t want to rethink this?” Joel elbowed him harshly in the ribs. “I was actually being romantic. Don’t ruin it, pendejo,” he chuckled. Noemi wedged herself between them. “Joel, can I see you in the kitchen for a second?” Joel pointed to where they were still awe-struck over the ring. “Pero, I got-” She tugged Joel’s sleeve, showing she meant business as she hissed through clenched teeth, “Now.” Noemi was sure that the patio door was shut and no one else was around the kitchen before she turned and began to read the riot act to the boy she saw as another son. “Joel, what are you thinking?” “What do you mean?” Joel asked, pulling a Pepsi out of the fridge. Noemi rubbed her forehead to try and alleviate the forming headache. “You two haven’t been together long. You want to dive into this so quickly? You’re too young to know what you want.” Joel lowered his gaze, for one moment trying to see if the pouting face would work for her. When it didn’t, he murmured, “Noemi, I love her.” “I know you think that. I just don’t think you’ve been out enough,” she admitted with a sigh. “You haven’t dated much before her. You haven’t lived life all that you should before tying yourself down.” He searched for a reply, eventually growling, “Noemi, in the end, it’s my choice. I’d appreciate your blessing, but I don’t need your approval. A choice I decide to make is my business, not yours.” “Not my business?” she laughed dubiously. “Oh, you’d better be kidding, Joel. You’re like my son- every move you all make is my business.” “Noemi, I’m marrying Kaja. There’s nothing more to be said.” He made his way to the door to go back outside but Noemi grabbed his shoulder to sit him back down. Noemi was rarely pushed to the point of anger, but the way her voice thundered lowly and her eyes went alight made the hair on the back of Joel’s neck stand on end. “I start it, I end it. Now sit down.” “Pero, I-” “Sit. Down.” He grumbled as he slammed himself down in a chair at the kitchen table. “What’s the problem?” Noemi took a long deep breath before beginning. “Joel, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re too young to get married!” He exclaimed, knowing he could use a parallel as his point. “Zabdiel and Isa got married at nineteen!” “And do you want to make that same mistake?” Noemi rolled her eyes. “Joel, that was totally and completely different situation.” “How was it different?” he demanded. She hollered, “It was different because Isa was already pregnant!” Joel couldn’t reply, only tapping his fingers across the side of the can, and realization hit Noemi like a brick. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Joel.”

chapter 6 is now here

[askthiscpblog]

Can we get more if LJ and Char?

LJ is on top of the roof kicking his legs watching the sky dozing off. There wasn’t much going on, and it all sucked. The monochrome clown had no idea what to do since he wasn’t allowed to leave the place for the time being.

“Hmm. This is boring. Why do I have to stay here and watch the place for uninvited guests? I should be out and about making new friends!” he yelled into the sky, groaning afterward out of boredom.

“What, I don’t hold your attention anymore? You still won’t even let me leave the place!” Char yells out, coming over the edge of the building by walking up the side. It was interesting to see her climb, but at the same time, duller than one would expect. It’s as if she was walking on the ground, only on the side of the building.

Due to everyone here knowing what she is, Char was a lot less covered up than how she dressed upon getting here. Before was long dresses and shawls to cover her skin, hair up and bangs covering her eyes. Now she is wearing short, lavender purple overalls with bats and spiders across them and a black t-shirt under it. It was all low cut in the back to let her other legs out but kept its form none the less. A black bat choker contrasts her gray skin on her neck. Her hair was in pigtails instead of buns, flowing down the sides of her head, while the bangs kept falling into place over her eyes and messy off the sides. It was less obvious she was trying to cover her eyes now, and more open with who she is.

“So why is it you’re the one stuck here?” she asked, walking up beside him.

“OH! Hello!” He seems to get excited when someone interacts with him. If anyone interacts with him, he gets excited. Most people try to ignore him or blow him off in this place.

“Slendy, EJ, and Puppet are all looking for Jeffrey, so I’m stuck here to keep an eye on the place. Or Slendy will put me back in the box,” he continued, finishing the answer to her question.

“He will put you back in the box? You mean the one you came from?” she responds, sitting down next to him overlooking the Domain. It was a quiet night, and all the trees were back where they once were. Amazing what a little magic and willpower can do. Being the 4th-dimensional being also helps, she guessed.

“What about the rest? The trio of idiots, the girl, the little girl, and…is that the rest of them? I’m not sure…oh, the ghosts too. What about them?” Charlotte asked, having to think hard about a few of the people. Despite being here for a few weeks, or so she thought, people, didn’t interact with her.

“Jane is watching me and Sally. Ben is in his room, the dumb trio are out and about asking around if they have seen old Zelgo…” he groans, his voice getting louder as he continued, “UGH THIS SUCKS. I MISS THE GOOD OLD DAYS!” He plops back and sucks on an oversized lollipop that appeared out of thin air. It was colorful with a red swirl around it, more like a candy cane.

“Jane is watching you? How can she take on someone like you?” she asks, laying down on the roof next to him.

“She’s not. She is the tattletale police. If I do something, she will tell Slendey and he will BOX me! I could kill her if she catches me!” He sits up with excitement then a frown shows on his face not a second later. The lollipop vanished the moment he let go of it as he shot to sit up.

“But Slendey will know it was me…THIS IS NOT FAIR AND I’M BORED!”

“Well, you’re staying behind to keep the place safe, aren’t you?” She asks, staying on the roof looking up into the stars. Fake as they may be, it was still pretty to look at. Char takes one of her fingers and starts to trace some of the shapes in them, curious about what they could mean beyond the basic ones.

“Why not lure kids here or something like that? Or watch a movie or something? Can’t you do that from this place?”

“Slendey is a big stick in the mud. Once I step out once he will know and we also ran out of movies. What are you doing up here anyway?” He has a look of curiosity and lays next to her seeing what she is doing. He followed her finger with his eyes, but not seeing what she was tracing or doing.

“I saw you up here and decided to bug you, knowing you won’t let me leave this place either. What about Netflix?” she asked, finishing her tracing looking over to him.

“Curious to what I’m doing?” Char gave a small smile and pointed up to a cluster of stars that was North of them, off in the distance. They were all close together, dense in comparison to the rest of the stars. It looked like a cloud of glitter in the night, shimmering and twinkling in the sky.

“Netflix? And ya! Oh, the stars! They are pretty closed up.” LJ gets that devilish grin back to his face, sharp white teeth gleaming.

“I only know about it from walking around towns and such, overhearing it. It’s like this…thing where you can watch almost an unlimited number of movies. And I am making things in the stars. Like people, horses, things like that. Kinda like a connect the dots book.”

“Hmmm that makes sense, would you like a better look?” he offered, turning his head from the stars to look at her, grin still plastered over his face.

“What? How?” she asked, sitting up confused. Then it dawned on her who she is talking to and prepped herself up for whatever crazy thing was going to come next. He bends things to his will around her, and it fucked with her sense of direction sometimes.

“A telescope dummy,” he snickers, “come on I’ll take you to it!” He grabs her hand and slides down off the roof. Standing up, it appears as if he hoped, but was running on air instead of the ground. Char screamed again and didn’t walk with him down the airstairs. Instead, she flung herself onto his back and latched on for dear life to his body. He knew she hated this, and every time she would latch onto him and not let go until they hit the ground.

“Oh, come now. Why are you hate heights so much?” He skips along his way above the trees

“I can swing around and all that, but I can’t fly,” she responded to him, still clinging. “You break the laws of reality LJ, and I don’t like that much myself!”

“Oh fine.” He picks her up from him and drops her to the ground. Char squealed, high pitched, and launched herself onto him again using her back legs, clinging like a cat that doesn’t want to go into a pool of water. All legs came out and wrapped themselves around his wiry frame. Her back legs wrapped around him two times for extra support. He laughs at her and skips along in the air until they reached a large domed building.

From the look of the building, it hasn’t been used in a long time. Vines have overgrown the dome, and up the walls with large leaves. The vines had the appearance of dried, old veins sucking the life that this building once had. Cobwebs on the outside covered corners in thick webbing, dirt piling up and dusting everything on the outside.

“Here we are!” He cheered. He floats down to the door of the building, feet landing with a soft thud in the loose dirt and weeds. When they are finally on the ground is when she gets off him and retracts everything. Her legs fold back onto her back, flat against her body.

“That was not funny!” she screamed at him, punching him in the arm when she did. Char didn’t care if she hit or missed, it was the pure fact he did that. He won’t let her fucking leave, and most of the time won’t leave her alone. He also knew she hated heights and does that stuff almost all the time!

He looks at her with a confused look asking, “How is that not funny? You looked so silly. Also, you said you didn’t like being up high.”

“I don’t like not being able to have an anchor! I can swing through the air and trees fine with my silk! Cause when I start to fall, I can use that to swing again.” she explained, huffing and puffing trying to calm herself down. Heights were not her favorite thing if she couldn’t touch the ground or anything else for the time being.

“The roof was fine. Tops of trees are fine. In the middle of the air? Not fine!”

“Ooh that’s no fun and I might as well float as much as I can. I can only do it here anyway.” he sings song says and starts to spin to go up then he drops back down onto the ground. He does still have a slightly confused look because he does not understand the concept of fear.

“Yeah well, unlike you I am not a construct made by some powerful as heck beings. I don’t break reality, you can, that’s the biggest difference. Unlike you, I can die.”

“…Oh right.” he realized. With that, he smiles with a goofy grin, sharp teeth and all.

“I forget that sometimes.” He opens the door after this, and it’s pitch dark in there with a puff of dust comes out. Like the outside, the inside hasn’t seen use in some time.

Char looked at him and made a strangling motion to his throat out of frustration. He was so annoying when he forgets that, hey, people fucking die! His neck thins up showing finger marks in them. He then falls to the ground acting like he is choking, clawing at his throat and kicking everywhere. She lets out a cry of frustration before taking a deep breath, calming herself. He was a giant goofball, that’s all. A murderous, crazy, construct made by angels that became corrupted, but a goofball none the less. 

Letting him go from her strangle, despite not touching him, she heads into the large, dark, dusty room. The entire place smelled damp to her, and mold clouded her nose more than any other sent. It caused her to sneeze once, twice, three times before getting herself to stop.

LJ gasps with air and hopes up with a smile. He walks in and with a double clap all the smells, dampens, dust, and mold disappeared. Who needs cleaning when you can bend a small bit of reality to your will? A part of the roof opened letting the night’s light and candles flickered awake. Books cover all the walls, with a desk and couch close by covered in drapes. A giant telescope is at the center, the focus of the room. Stairs twisted up and to the control panel to the giant telescope, giving access to anyone who enters the room.

Charlotte looks around, eyes widening at the entire display appearing before her. It was something she never would have expected to see in her entire life, and she lived a long time up until this point. All the nasty smells vanished in an instant, and everything was clean as if it was the first day of its creation. The moon shines through the open part of the roof, lighting the two figures in the room up with plenty of light for them to see. Even stars twinkled off in the distance.

“Oh wow, this is so beautiful!” she exclaimed, running deeper into the room to look around at everything.

“Yep! This is Slendy’s. He likes to collect things throughout the years. It’s all steam powered, which is one of the few things that doesn’t go screwy when he is around.” He jumps and lands on the couch with grace, in the draw me like a French girl pose. Everything shined in the light even some of the books had metallic backings. Even a light quite a melody playing from a record player in the other corner. It was calming, relaxing,  a beautiful scene.

“And you know how to work all this without breaking it?” she asked, wandering up the stairs of the telescope. It was huge, about the size of a small house by itself. Probably because it was steam-powered like LJ mentioned.

LJ, who kept a shit eating grin on his face this entire time, proud of his work, dropped to a blank face in an instant. The only thing that could come out of his mouth was, “Umm…”

“I’ll take that as a no,” she says, getting up to it and looking at the switches and everything.

He walks over and looks for the on switch, mumbling to himself, “Hmmm. I know we need to find the furnace to get it started.”

Char gave an unpleasant look; her mouth cocked to the side and she searched the thing for any hint of what to do after the furnace. Nothing came to mind.

“Should have stayed on the roof at this rate. I’m not going to break anything.”

He crawls around on it until he yells, “Ah ha!” He found the furnace hiding underneath the stairs and lights a fire in it. After a few minutes the machine springs to life with a breath of steam. Gages come alive moving back and forth, but no lights shining. Supposed to keep light pollution out.

Char jumped back, looking at the thing spin and come to life as it warmed up. Lights flickered as she blurted out, “Oh neat, that’s easy.”

“It was hiding,” LJ responds, moving down to stand in front of the controls. The controls are leavers that have symbols on them, some or easy to understand and others not so much. Char at this point started to mess with everything, but it was a cautious fuckery. She was trying to not break anything, she adjusted something then looked around. Adjusted, looked. This went on for about 15 minutes.

“How’s it coming?” He was being a bit nosy right next to her, putting his face next to hers trying to see everything from her view.

“It’s coming well. I’m trying to find a specific place and something pretty to look at.” She responded, keeping the eyeglass away from him.

“How about Beetlejuice? It’s really, really cool looking.”

“That’s a thing?” She asked, pulling back confused.

“Ya! How did you not know that?”

“You…mentioned it right there. Here, have a look and see if you can find it.” Char responds, taking a few steps back from the telescope. If something was going to break, better him than her in her mind. He starts to mess around with it look like a cartoon. It’s silly looking, but practical in some regard.

“Ah ha!”

“You again, defy all reason I swear.”

“Whhhhhhaaaaat? I’m being me.” He sounded offended, but jesters the lens to her to look through into the galaxy. Char rolled her eyes and giggled none the less, looking through the lens, curious to what he found.

“That…isn’t much, looking into a sun it seems. I was hoping it would be colorful and prettier.” LJ thinks then messes with the machine again. The sound of the steam is loud with how much is being let out. 

“THERE!” From there, there are 3 floating lenses in front of it, all different sizes with the largest being the closest to the sky. It was reaching out of the dome further into the sky as if it was zooming in on the galaxy.

“Oh, that is so pretty! I love the teals and the clouds, and the pretty purple little stars! I wanna hold one, but it would set me on fire, but I would be okay with it!” she rambles, her main two eyes brightening.

“Really?”

“I mean, a fiery death is what I am going to get in the end anyway.”

He sides hug her, chuckling.

“Not if we win the war!” He exclaims with excitement his face touching hers, cheek to cheek again

“I meant in general LJ. You know how people are. If it is different, burn it with fire.” she told to him, putting her arm around his shoulders, squishing him closer to her continuing, “But look at it! Now imagine, there could be more worlds out there! And how pretty they all are!”

“Ya, I know…too bad they are so far away. I would have lots of fun on them!”

“What is the extent of your powers anyway?” She asks, letting go of the squishing and pulling away a little bit.

“In here or out there?” The most normal thing he has said all night, pointing out into space as he spoke.

“Both I suppose. I’ve only known you in here.”

“Weeell in the real world my power can only work around me. I can stretch my limb, change my shape, allow others to see me if I want, teleportation, conjuring insects out of my body, conjure candy, regenerate my body, aaaaand enter people’s dreams. Here I can do anything I want to like in the dreams.”

“So, you can’t directly affect other people?” she asks, moving back to the telescope around to try and find something new to look at. Steam flies out of the telescope as it moved around, them both turning in a circle as she looked in the opposite direction to find anything new.

“Ye. Angels are powerful, but not that powerful.”

Char nodded to him, finding something new to look at. He was being very nice to her, which is odd from what she heard from everyone else on how he is.

“Oh! By the way! Do you know who took Jeffery?! It’s not like Zelgo to take prisoners! Especially people like Jeffery!” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest leaning against the railing.

“No, I keep saying that I happened to come in when all it went down. I don’t know who Zelgo is.”

“No one that would have any beef with him? Is that how the saying goes?”

“I don’t even know who you are talking about.”

“I mean anyone that you would say that would want to catch Jeffery. I’m asking to quicken the search up so that I can be free again.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree then. I don’t know anything about what was going on.” Char projects with a defensive attitude. Her arms crossed over her chest, backing away from him into the telescope behind her.

“Uuuuuuuuugggggh” he makes a big frown, exaggerating it continuing, “I want out, but he won’t let me.”

Charlotte moves away from him and goes to one of the couches, sitting down. Her arms were still crossed, folding her legs up to her chest as she balled herself up.

“What?” He can tell something is up and on her mind.

“I’m thinking. Wouldn’t it be best to allow you to go? Due to you can jump dreams until you find some information to start with?”

“Ehh, I would, but one problem. I can’t if he marked them like what Slendey did to you.” He sits next to her, mimicking her sitting position. His long, wiry frame scrunched up into a ball looked weird compared to her smaller frame.

“So, you’re useless in this situation? Well, couldn’t it be a process of elimination then? If you can’t haunt them, you could point them out to your crew to check them out?”

He puts his hands together like a prayer to his mouth, takes a deep inhale, then moves his arms to have is sharp fingers point at her saying, “GIRL. I’m powerful, but I can only go dream hopping one person at a time and have to be in the area.” He got very technical very fast, which is always unusual for him. LJ  kept a playful aura about him, but anything getting him technical or serious sets her off. She leaned away from him, one of her eyebrows raising up in response to how he was acting. He was jumpy, and he was crazy. But him being technical was something she has yet to see.

“Then yeah, you are useless in this situation. Until they find someone who they know you can tail, that is.”

He slouches into the couch as if he was melting into it, a bit depressed responding, “Yaaaaaa……”

She looked at him deflate and couldn’t help but smile at it. The guy had an ego, and sometimes it needed to be deflated. That much she picked up in the last few weeks of being stuck here against her own will. Sometimes a reality check is what is needed.

“Then why not enjoy your time off before the next big fight?”

“What’s the point if I have no new friends to play with…ugh! I wanted to play with Toy Maker!”

“What’s your definition of playing anyways? By the way, heck you for that. I’m not a new friend anymore?”

“Well I play like everyone, but my favorite game is taking people and make balloon animals out of their intestines. You know stuff like that.” He looks at her, those eyes showing all emotion with a cold stare of a calculating killer behind it.

“You are a new friend, but I want to keep you around!”

“And why’s that? Cause I put up a real fight? Or cause I’m a spider?” Taking her fingers to her cheeks, Char smiled and tilted her head to the side pushing them into her face. Cute, flirty, and something one wild expect from the childish demon.

“Because you are unique! I have never seen a spider demon before, and you are from the time I was born! So, you have many stories to tell!” He jumps up on that part, out of the couch and onto his feet facing away from her. He twirls on his heel to face her again, arms spinning still wrapping around his body, claws and all. She unfurled herself on the couch, letting her feet dangle unable to touch the ground. In some weird way, this guy was comforting to have around. Despite all the times he’s tried to scare the hell out of her.

“I might. Most are boring though. So…should we get out of here before bald boring butt comes to run our fun? Or do you wanna continue looking at galaxies?”

“I say we stay. I want to see other pretty stuff.” He unwraps himself and spins over to the telescope, making a black and white mini tornado as he got to the top of the stairs.

“Where are you going to look next?”

“Don’t know. I say we mess with it until something pretty comes along.”

“Sounds good to me!”