#i lined this mostly with brushes so the lines are uuh

[sylenth-l]

[🚧 WIP] Quite a mess

[miastideclock]

Stray Kids Reaction To Their Relationships Accidentally Going Public

@babybouille​ asked

Hi there ~ ! I saw that your request are open ? If possible can I please have a skz reaction for when their relationship with their s/o accidently goes public ? Thanks :)

-

Can do, love!

Word Count: 4,6k Warnings: sorry this took so long, not really a warning bUT YOU GET IT

Bang Chan

“What kind of spoiler? You will see it later. Recently what has everyone been up to these days? I’ve been working out a lot. Like, I’ve been eating salads. I want to build up my body-” Chan answered as he read the questions out loud.

Chan and Felix were sat on each their chair in Chan’s studio, talking to the fans via Chan’s weekly livestream. However, you had completely forgotten this. As you and Chan had been dating for almost six months, you probably should know this by now, but what can you do. 

You knocked gently before opening the door, instantly closing it back up when you saw what they were doing. Luckily, the camera was at such an angle that you couldn’t see the door. 

Chan jumped in his seat, as did Felix. “Hold on one moment you guys, I just need to mute our mic for a second.” The older Aussie spoke into the camera before clicking a few buttons. Chan then got out halfway out of frame, to the point where you could just see from the waist down on the left side of his body. From where he was standing, he could reach the door, so he opened it back up to find you standing there with a sheepish smile on your face. 

“I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” You instantly apologized to both your boyfriend and your friend. As you leaned gently to the side to see past Chan, Felix chuckled, waving it off saying it was an honest mistake. “Did anyone see me?”

Even though you and Chan had dated as long as you had, the public had yet to find out. Originally, Chan was under a strict dating-ban, but after a few weeks of convincing, the management agreed to let you date, but only if you kept it a secret, and if you worked at the company. That way no one would be suspicious of you entered and left the building at free will. 

“No, no one saw you babe- we’re good.” Chan chuckled and leaned forward to kiss you, jokingly making kissy noises as he came closer, mostly to gross out Felix, but also because the two of you genuinely found it funny to act like those super-gross couples. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m headed to the store, you boys want anything?” You asked, but as both the boys said no, their phones started vibrating like crazy. Felix grabbed his from the table they were sitting at, his face first confused, then a look of panic struck him. He instantly motioned for you and your boyfriend to be quiet as he grabbed the mouse and started clicking around the screen. He ended the live. 

“Mate. You didn’t mute yourself.” Felix breathed once Chan asked what all the commotion was about. Chan’s blood ran cold as he realized what that meant. You instantly pulled out your phone and went to the VLIVE app to see the ending of their stream, and sure enough. Kissy sounds, loving nicknames, Felix saying you were cute together. It was all there. 

“I guess we’re official then?” Chan sighed as he looked at you, scared of how you would react.

“Oh thank god!”

Lee Know

“You excited for the set tonight?” You asked softly as you sat on your boyfriends lap. He gently brushed his hands through your hair as he hummed a reply. 

“Yeah, it has been so long it feels like. But when you really do the math it really isn’t that bad.” Minho replied, the playing of your hair never stopping. You had enjoyed having your boyfriend to yourself for a while, but you knew how much he loved working and being on stage, so you didn’t mind giving him up to his members for a while.

You and Minho had been dating for about a year at this point, but you had yet to go public. The only people who knew were his members, and their management team. Or so you thought.

“Hyung, don’t kill me!” Seungmin ran over to the couch you were sat on in the greenroom, his make-up perfectly done and his outfit matching Minho’s. Minho sat up straighter, making you look up from where you had your face nuzzled into his chest. 

“Then don’t give me a reason?” Minho spoke, asking more than anything. Seungmin looked genuinely panicked, and you soon grew concerned for the boy. You had seen him get worried over dumb things before, but never like this. 

“I posted on Instagram. I didn’t see until I read the comments, but by then it was too late- I deleted it, but the fans are too fast.” He stumbled over his words and stuttered, almost as if he had just ran a marathon. 

“Seungmin, calm down. What was it about the picture?” Minho was now also concerned for the well-being of his member, genuinely worried he would have an anxiety attack. 

“You and Y/N are in it.” He breathed and showed you his phone. The screen showed his selfie, very cute picture. But if you zoomed in, you could see you and your boyfriend, cuddling, being mid-kiss. Unluckily for you, the quality was good enough to where you could definitely tell it was Minho. 

You inhaled a sharp breath of air, and instinctively looked to see Minho’s reactions- but it was impossible to read him. Was he happy? Stressed? Angry? Sad? Even with a gun to your head, you couldn’t give an answer. 

“I mean..” He started, not sounding very upset. “If it’s already out there, management can’t really force us to keep it a secret anymore, right?” He asked Seungmin what his opinion on the matter was, but he was at a loss for words. You had to side with Seungmin on this one, as it was a thing anyone would be angry at. 

When all Seungmin could do was stutter out inaudible sounds, Minho turned to one of the managers that had just entered the room. “Am I in trouble?” He asked calmly, and much to everyone's surprise, the manager shook his head. 

“No, but just meet with us in the conference room when we get back, so we can talk about where you can go and stuff.” He said, making you and Minho nod.

“That went well.”

Changbin

You smiled slightly as you smelled the freshly popped popcorn, the salty and buttery smell filling your nose. While humming gently to yourself as you poured the snacks out of the bag and into a bowl, bopping your head to the beat you heard in your head. “Blurry lines, yeah-yeah. So many, so many-” But you cut yourself off as you heard your show begin in the living room. You softly squealed and ran with the popcorn and your drink.

Your boyfriend Changbin and his group was going on a talk show, and you were so excited to see it. You always loved their live interviews as they always felt more charismatic when nothing was edited out.

“Tonight on Late Later Latest with Bentley���, Stray Kids! Welcome!” The host greeted the boys. They did their intro and got started. The host asked her usual questions, how promotion was going, how it felt being such an up-and-coming group etc etc. After the general questions, she asked more individual question, asking Minho about his dancing (Nat Geo), Felix and Chan about their life in Australia and so on. When she finally went to Changbin, you felt your heart beat proudly. 

You had originally asked management if you could come to the audience of the talk-show and watch, but they sadly denied your request as people might get suspicious. You and Changbin had been dating since forever, but the public didn’t know yet. Management had agreed to let you keep dating, but only if they could expose your relationship at any given moment for promotion purposes. At first you were disgusted with their demands, but you soon understood where they came from, and agreed. 

“So Changbin, what would you say motivates your writing the most?” The host asked, giving him a smile as she did so. 

Changbin nodded and answered, not giving his answer enough thought. “Well, mostly my girlf-” but he cut himself off. “uuh- my members? Maybe my fans?” He stumbled over his words, trying to hide his original answer, but it was too late.

“Were you gonna say girlfriend?” The host asked him in kind of a humoring tone. Changbin then sighed and nodded, this making you choke on your popcorn, sending a few pieces flying as you coughed. You did not expect him to expose your relationship for the whole world to see, this fine Thursday afternoon. 

“Yeah. I guess I have to come clean now, don’t I? Y/N, please don’t kill me.” He sheepishly smiled into the camera and gave you a slight wave, causing you to smile back at him and wave gently, not realizing he couldn’t see you. You then let your and fall into your lap as you giggled at your now public boyfriend.

Hyunjin

While almost skipping, you made your way down the hallway. Taking turn after turn and up and down hallways and staircases, you finally found what you had been looking for. The loud music gave it away instantly as you entered the room.

in the middle of the floor, looking at himself dancing in the mirror, stood your boyfriend Hyunjin. “Hi baby!” He grinned when he saw you stood there by the door. He stopped dancing and hurried over to you and picked you up to spin you around. “I missed you!”

You had been out of town for about three weeks, so it was with good reason he said what he did. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quickly asked, praying that he would say no. He shook his head while copying your grin, finally placing you back on the ground. You took that opportunity to get on your tippy-toes and give him a kiss.

You and Hyunjin had been dating for just under nine months at this point, and your relationship was still as blooming as if was only a few weeks ago you went on your first date. 

At first, you had been forbidden to date, as his idol-contract came with pretty serious and strict rules, but after sneaking around for about half a year, the company finally gave up and let you do whatever you wanted. Hyunjin’s managers were all surprised when you let them know that neither of you wanted to take the relationship public, at least not to begin with. So all the secrecy was completely your own ideas. Hyunjin’s members also agreed to keep you a secret for now, respecting you and Hyunjin’s decisions.

“Would they mind if I stole you for a day date? I was thinking maybe taking you on a picnic right now, and then after we could go to the fair?” You suggested, already having the picnic basket ready in your car parked outside.

“I already told them I would be occupied the day you came home. I just gotta send this to our editor, and he can work his magic or something!” Hyunjin let you know, letting go of your waist to run over to the camera propped up on a tripod. He had been filming a dance practise, something he did every once in a while. 

He clicked the camera and then sat down on the floor next to the laptop the camera was wired to, clicking a few more buttons. After that he cleared out the room, and you were on your way. 

The date was nice, you and Hyunjin catching up, even though you had spoken on the phone every single night while you were away. However, mid-date, Hyunjin got a phone call from his leader. As it was just Chan, he put it on speaker so you could listen in too.

“Hyung! What’s up?” He asked casually, after he had placed the phone back down on the blanket. 

“Hyunjin- did you mean to post that? Cause if yes- hella cute. If not? I’m so sorry, mate.” Bang Chan’s voice was slightly static as he was talking through a phone after all, but that wasn’t what made his statement confusing. 

“What are you talking about?” Both you and Hyunjin said at the same time.

“Oh, Y/N, fitting that you’re here too. But you posted the uncut version of your dance practice to our VLIVE instead of sending it to the editor. Everything is there.. Everything.” He spoke slowly, trying to make sure you and your boyfriend truly understood the consequences.

You looked over at Hyunjin for a second, him being just as confused as you were- all before he looked like he had touched a hot plate, his face lighting up in a grimace. 

“You! You’re in the video! We kiss! And say dating! sHIT-” He started panicking. 

“Baby- slow down. I don’t care if you don’t. Maybe it was time for us to go public anyways- we couldn’t have kept it a secret the rest of our lives, right? I love you, you love me- we can do this.” You spoke in a tone to try to calm him down.

“Yeah, I do love you. We’ll figure it out.” He replied after letting out a sigh of relief. You then leaned in to kiss him but was cut off by someone you had forgotten long ago.

“Awwww, you guys! That was so cu-” BEEP. Hyunjin quickly hung up on Chan even though he was mid-sentence, going back to kissing you.

Han

“Please don’t ever get a mustache.” You chuckled as you gently stroked the fake beard glued to your boyfriends upper lip. He chuckled as he returned the favor, gently pulling on your fake grandma-glasses.

“I would say the same about your outfit, but I don’t know. This whole grandma look is growing on me.” He joked, you swatting away his hand as he did so. 

“You’re weird.” You laughed at him.

You were currently sat in a boot at a restaurant, trying to enjoy a good meal with your boyfriend. As you still weren’t known to the public yet, despite having dated for almost a year- you had to play dress up. 

You were sat in a dated dress you could find in any grandmother's closet, matched with a shawl draped over your head and granny glasses, covering as much of your face as possible. Your other half was in a suit, distorting his true body-type, a fake mustache and a hat. 

“I don’t know, I preferred the costume where you dressed as a woman.” You snickered, making Jisung roll his eyes and chuckle with you. 

This was in no way shape or form the first time you had dressed up to go out, but it had been some time since the last time you did it. His company didn’t necessarily have anything against your dating, as long as you kept it lowkey. You could go public if you so wished, but if you did- you couldn’t go on dates on massively crowded spots. 

“I liked the one where you were not only a man, but a biker!” Jisung cackled at that one. But before he could say anything else, you both noticed a flash of light in the distance. Your first thought was lightning, but as you were inside a shopping centre, you doubted it.

As you both turned to the source of the light, you saw not only one, but two paparazzis standing by the entrance of the restaurant, taking your pictures.

You then quickly looked up at each other, and then making a run for the door, trying to hide your faces as much as you could. 

Once you made it outside, Jisung grabbed your hand as you still ran, trying to drag you after him. You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, as it would have to look ridiculous to anyone else. An old couple running at full speed down the shopping mall, as if they were being chased by the police? Iconic. 

Your laugh soon infected Jisung causing him to laugh too, one hand on his hat, the other in yours.

Felix

“Okay, so- No! I’m not impostor- I’m down by electrical!” Felix defended himself as he spoke into the mic, discussing with the other players on Discord.

Felix was twitch streaming as he and some of his personal friends played Among Us. They also opted to use Discord rather than the chat that came with the game, when they were discussing. 

“Nah, Felix sus! You know you can vent from electrical to medbay, and then you’re in cafeteria in two seconds, giving you plenty of time to kill cyan, and then leave!” One of his friends argued, prompting you to say something. 

“No, I saw Felix do a garbage-task earlier, he safe.” You backed him. You hadn’t actually seen him to a task, but he seemed like he needed some help. 

You loved playing with Felix and his friends, but you preferred it when they weren’t Twitch streaming. You were always scared to mess up, or let words slip. Words like babe, honey, or boyfriend. As you and your boyfriend Felix had decided to let the world think you were only friends, it made things a bit more difficult, gaming wise. 

You had been dating for just over half a year at this point. His idol-company had asked you to date in secret for a while, just to see if it would work out before you announced it to the world- something you completely understood, as it was quite a mess to clean if you had a nasty break.

However, the past few weeks, you and Felix found yourself catching yourself almost revealing it by accident. At this point, you found it tiresome to keep the secret, wanting to spread it to the world so you could adore your boyfriend in public. 

“Oh damn. Unless Felix and Y/N are impostor together!” Felix’s friend tried once again, but just as you had done previously you defended both you and your boyfriend.

“Eject confirmations are on. Danny was clearly the other impostor you dimwit.” You chuckled into your mic, making him groan.

“No, sorry- you’re right. Sorry Felix.” He apologized, prompting Felix to thank you for backing him, but along those lines, a certain word accidentally slipped his lips.

“Thanks, babe.” 

As soon as the words had left his lips, the chat grew quiet, no one knowing if they were allowed to speak, or if Felix wanted to try and save his mistake. One of your monitors showed Felix’s stream which also happened to show his stream-chat, it going completely nuts.

xxemogirlxx: DID HE SAY BABE?

changbinishawt: IS Y/N HIS GIRLFRIEND?

falixlaa: omg i knew they were dating

And so on, and so forth. You found yourself in complete shock as you leaned back in your chair, your mouth wide open. 

“Oh, screw it. Yes, Y/N is my girlfriend, and we’ve been together for a while. I’m also impostor while we’re at it.” He said, the relief in his voice prominent. As he spoke the last words, he ran over to his friend in MedBay and killed him, finishing the game.

The discord went crazy, all eight of Felix and you’s friends rioting.

“How does it feel being completely out to the world, Y/N?” You were asked by Danny.

“Feels great.”

Seungmin

“I’m really sorry, I’m already late for the meeting!” Your boyfriend, Seungmin apologized as he repeatedly kissed your cheeks, nose and forehead, finally landing on your lips. 

“Go on! Have fun, and say hi to the boys from me would you?” You giggled and tried to squirm your way out of his hug. He finally released you, but not fully as he slid his hands down your arms and intertwined your fingers, slowly stepping away as he did so. 

“Of course! Love you.” He smiled as he finally let go of your hand, but kept his walk backwards. 

You were inside the company building at this point, so you didn’t need to worry if anyone saw you. You smiled at him and waved slightly until he turned a corner and was out of sight. 

You and Seungmin had been dating for exactly six months, it being the reason for your date- to celebrate your anniversary. The company did have some words to say about your relationship in the beginning, but after a while they backed off and let you have your fun. 

Once you were sure he was gone, you made your way out of the building and down to the bus-stop waiting for the next scheduled bus. Two girls were sat at the bus-stop already, waiting for the same bus as you probably. They seemed to have a weird look at you, but you ignored it 

Maybe they had seen you and Seungmin enter the building! or maybe you just had gum on your pants? You decided to not give it too much thought. It was only a two minute wait, so before you knew it, you had your headphones plugged in and your phone in your hand. You were about to press the Spotify app, but soon noticed you had received a notification from VLIVE a few minutes ago.

You grew confused as the title didn’t mention any specific members hosting the live, but you clicked it nonetheless. 

Your headphones were soon filled with the cheers and rioting of your boyfriends band members, having the time of their lives as some sat on the couch, and some on the floor. You did however fail to spot Seungmin in the crowd, making you a tad bit confused, but reckoned there was a reason for it. A reason you and about 1.2 million others soon found out.

Just as the boys calmed down and Minho opened his mouth to talk, the door at the very left of the screen opened and revealed a distressed Seungmin. 

“Sorry I’m late, I was on my anniversary date with Y/N-” He started, not realizing the live had already started. The boys tried to save him as they started yelling once they saw where the sentence was going, but it was too late.

You felt your heart drop as you moved faster than lightning to tap the screen so you could see the comments. They were going crazy, everyone trying to figure out who you were, and if they had seen you before. 

“Damn it. Well, sorry STAY- I do in fact have a girlfriend, and we would much appreciate it if you didn’t go trying to look for her, or harass her in any comment section. Thank you.” Seungmin asked directly to the camera, the comments instantly flooding with nothing but love and support for their faves and their significant others. 

After the live was over, you found yourself smiling to yourself, happy that no one came with any mean comments. 

As you were on your way to collect your bag and push the stop button on the bus, you accidentally made eye-contact with the two girls who were sharing headphones. They looked you up and down once more before their eyes lit up, almost if they realized. 

Fear instantly washed over you, but it was soon gone as they raised their hands and waved and sent you little finger hearts, showing that they supported you. You softly waved back and stepped off the bus.

I.N

You were walking around a store downtown, minding your own business, having taken yourself out on a date. Your boyfriend, Jeongin was unable to join you as he had an early morning practice. You didn’t mind though, it had been a while since you got some time to yourself.

You and Jeongin had officially been dating for ten months circa, meaning you were already well into the relationship. His managers never really had anything against it as you seemed to follow all the company rules anyways. 

Looking at the items in the thrift-shop you were in, a ring caught your eye, instantly making you think of Jeongin. You decided to give him a call to see if the ring was something he liked, and if you should bring it home for him. 

The ringing of the FaceTime was short before he picked up, lighting up the whole screen with his massive smile. “Hi babe!” He beamed. You quickly greeted him and asked if he was busy. When he revealed he had a few minutes to spare, you flipped the camera so he could see what you were looking at.

“I saw this ring and thought it would suit you so well! It’s not too bold, and just large enough to make a statement. Would you wear it if I bought it for you?” You asked him as you showed him every angle of the ring, even how it looked on you. 

“Oh I love it! It would go well with so many outfits too. You really know your stuff.” He complimented and chuckled. You spoke for a few more minutes before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” You whipped around as they spoke to you, the voice belonging to a girl around maybe fourteen years old. You gently placed the screen of your phone against your stomach, not necessarily to hide your boyfriends face, but to be respectful towards the person you spoke to.

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as you could. The girl soon waved over her friends who were scattered around the store, making them all step over to you.

“How do you know our oppa?” The first girl asked, almost sounding angry as she spoke. You shot her a confused glance, genuinely not knowing what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry- do I know you?” You asked, in case it was the little sister of one of your friends.

“No, you don’t. But I saw your phone and you are talking to our I.N-oppa!” She was almost throwing a tantrum at this point, and you had no idea what to say or do. You tried stuttering out a reply, but you found your mouth gaping and closing, like the one of a fish. 

Muffles sounds suddenly came from your stomach, making both you and the girl look to your phone. You gently pulled it back out so you could see the screen. “Y/N, babe! Let me talk to them okay?” He suggested, having heard the entire conversation. You turned your phone around, but you didn’t let the girl hold it on her own, scared that she would run off with it. 

“Hi! Nice to meet you! I’m Jeongin, and this lovely girl you are talking to is a good friend of mine, so I would really love it if you stopped being upset with her, and rather left her alone, okay?” Jeongin spoke to the girls, trying his best to come across as kind and sweet, even though he hated how they had treated you. 

“Of course! But.. Is she your girlfriend?” The main girl asked, causing you to shake your head no, at the same time Jeongin sighed and confirmed you were. You felt your breath hitch and a smile creep up on your face.

“She is, but since we’re best friends now, you guys won’t tell anyone right?” He continued in the same baby-ing voice. Almost all of the girls agreed. All but one.

“Too late? I am so sorry!” She started sheepish, and ended in a panic. Apparently she had been filming the conversation and instead of stopping the filming when Jeongin asked them to keep it a secret, she had stumbled and uploaded it to twitter istead. Posting it to her hundreds and thousands of followers already. 

Both you and Jeongin stood there silently for a second before you flipped the phone around and agreed that you should stop by the company building to do some damage control.

“I’ll see you there. Love you, bye.” You said and hung up. You gave the girls a half-assed smile and picked up the ring to go pay.

That took so long I am genuinely so so so so so sorry x

I hope you liked it tho!

-Bentley

[carbrakes-and-stakes]

Two brains are better than one | Morgan & Alain

Morgan insisted on going to the butcher herself sometimes. The stores of brains at home were plentiful enough, Morgan couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been a few specimens in the shed out back. But since accidentally having a taste of what, as Deirdre gently reminded her, she was meant to feast on, she found herself speeding up the time between meals, hoping that if she stuffed herself with enough squirrels and deer and racoons she might forget that people taste like a three course dinner meal at midnight. That angst didn’t even take into account that she was trying to space out her feedings a little more so she wouldn’t be caught with puny, mortal strength with a hunter again. The whole situation was a mess. But, as a reasonable, grown-ass zombie girl who was definitely not resenting the blandness of squirrel brain, she could go to the butcher and top herself off easy. She rocked on her feet in line, her number pinched between her fingers as she waited.

Sometimes she liked to wonder how many of the customers were like her. A woman had just left with a hefty tub of pig’s blood. And the man at the counter now was asking for brains too. Morgan watched him take his number and mosey to where she waited, comfortable as anything, if not a little tired in his bones. Had he been dead for long? Was it a new death weight, or something much older? Morgan smiled at him. “Don’t see  a lot of people asking for brains around these parts,” she said. “You cook like that a lot?”

Alain did not use to have a thing for cooking offals, but as years passed and he became more sensitized to the consequences of the meat industry, but could not bring himself to give up on eating meat, he had decided that he would start using parts who were usually doomed to end up to the trash, and to turn them into savoury dishes. Veal liver was one of his favorites, but sheep brain was a close second, and exactly why he had pushed the butcher’s door today. Fidgeting idly with his fingers, he waited for his turn, not paying too much attention to his surroundings but rather thinking of who had died instead of him. He had managed to convince himself that it was just an elder who was passing by the shop as Regan screamed, but not knowing for sure was far from pleasant.

He picked up the number given to him and moved to the side to wait. He eyed at the woman smiling at him and refrained a frown. Instead he raised an eyebrow, and scoffed in surprise as she started to talk about his order. Well, it was nice to see that he was not the only one who had taken in interest for pieces that most people would have deemed disgusting. “Oh. Ahem,” he cleared his throat. Well if this did not make it obvious that he was not  good at small talk, what would ? “I do, actually, what about you? I’m planning to make Pad thai with it,” he explained, uncrossing his arms and relaxing a bit in his stance. Talking about cooking was a nice way to start a conversation with him for sure.

Morgan was warmed by the man’s awkwardness more than anything else. Maybe if they had a secret sense, like the fae did, it might all be easier. Here there was no instant safety and, heck, for all she knew, there were hunters trolling the parking lot or working in the shop. It was only paranoia if she was wrong, right? She let out a breath, remembering that this was not the time to let her body return to its natural resting state of death, and smiled again. “Pad Thai?” She asked. “That sounds way more appetizing than the casserole I have planned. I’m uh, still kinda new to cooking this way. But you—“ she couldn’t get a sense of him beyond that he mostly wanted to go home, and who could blame him? “You sound almost like a pro at this, yeah?”

“Southern Asian cooking is really interesting,” Alain replied as she mentioned that she had planned to make a casserole with her purchase. It was not a bad idea, but she would get tired of it, eventually. “I’ve done quite a few casserole with those,” you could tell from his tone that he was not exactly thrilled about these anymore. “I would not say I’m a pro, although I did place second in the pie contest,” he scratched at his cheek and shrugged. He had not expected a win, considering his pie was possibly the most simple in the contest but he’d been glad to see that taste mattered more than aspect to the judges. “Anyway, I feel like cooking is about being able to turn something no one likes, into something great that people will want to eat no matter the ingredients.” Calf sweetbread was another one of his favourites, and it made him wonder if brains could be nice in a vol-au-vent. “I think you should try making Vol-au-vent with those. That might work  well,” he assured her, a bit too enthusiastic perhaps, than one should be about brains.

So brain casserole wasn’t a thrilling time for other zombies too, not just her. Morgan smirked at his knowing tone. It was kind of a shame. Nothing was more of a staple from her childhood suburbias like a baked casserole. She should have made more when she was alive. Now that brains were the only worthwhile food, all she could see them as were wasted tubs of mush. “Wait, you won the pie contest?” She asked, a little heartened that at least it was someone who had a hard time tasting. “With what? Don’t tell me a brain pie. Did you at least get a fun prize?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about his philosophy. She liked working with things she knew people would like, especially when she could taste so little of it herself. If she managed to taste anything that wasn’t brains or ‘why yes, my tastebuds can still catch fire,’ it was the kind of ghostly whiff of flavor she was used to getting at the bottom of a seltzer can, which was, more or less, nothing. “Okay, prize winner guy,” she said. “Tell me what a--” she hesitated, certain she was going to butcher the syllables, they were already turning fuzzy in her head. “Vole-a-vent? Is? And I’ll give it a try. Soon, even, with this order.”

“I’m pretty sure a brain pie would have earned me a place in the flop 3,” his shoulders jolted up as he held back his laughter. If Alain could avoid having the whole butcher shop look at him, he would avoid it. “I made a tatin pie. Apples, sugar and butter. I used to have that all the time when I was a kid,” he scratched at the stubble on his cheek and shook his head at her next question. Nope, a karkinoid was not really the kind of prize he wanted to win in a contest, but the certificate was nice. “A goddamn lobster. Not a big fan of seafood, unfortunately,” he gave her a shrug and let his eyes wander toward someone who was picking up bones for his dogs. Heh, now he remembered what he had forgotten to ask the butcher for. “Mmh?” He held up his finger and repeated slowly “Vole o vent. It means flies in the wind, in French. It sounds fancier than it is. It’s puffed pastry and a creamy sauce with sweetbread. I think you can replace this with brains and perhaps, to really enhance the taste of brains, you could mix some directly into the sauce,” his brows furrowed. This should work. It probably would make one hell of a recipe for people like them who enjoyed those parts the rest of people sulked at.

Morgan took out her phone and started taking notes on her phone. It sounded decadent. The texture of the pastry would at least shake things up, and a sauce--she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had anything for herself that came with a sauce. As she took it all down, she felt an odd twist of guilt, it was a lot of trouble for something she had to eat by herself. Maybe she could share it with Remmy if they would ever talk to her again, but that was a fat chance. She smiled kindly at the French zombie all the same. “It sounds like you’ve really got your stuff together,” she said. “Um, can I---” She hesitated and searched the shop. No one around screamed hunter, at least. “I just kinda wonder, don’t you ever find it hard? Getting up every day with your real life behind you, trying to figure out how to put all the days in front of you into some kind of sense. Even if it’s longer than what you had before it’s not the same. And you can’t really explain it to most people, because they’ll never understand what it’s like to be like you in the first place. Uuh...it’s okay, if this is too forward. We don’t actually know each other and---” She checked the order counter. One second, three seconds, five-- “Yep! That’s my number, so, we can be good, really.”

“Wow, this got quite existencial really fast,” scoffing to himself, he brushed his laughter hand with a motion of the hand, making it clear that he was not making fun of her at all, but rather surprised by this turn of event. “But to answer to your question, I make do. Besides, you never know what tomorrow might be made of,” he shrugged. Part of what she said made him raise his eyebrows. Could it be possible… that she heard about the banshee scream? It was true that he had more time left than a week ago… technically. “How did you…” he shook his head. Nevermind how she knew. “You’ll send me pictures of your vol-au-vent ? If you need tips, I can send you a copy of my recipe notebook,” he offered. She went to pick up her order and he nodded politely at her. Alain, who had never been one for small talk, had started chatting more easily with others recently. Maybe being happier had helped him open up to people. Either way, it was nice and he couldn’t recall the last time he felt as if things were nice. “It was lovely talking to you.”

“Sorry, just been thinking too much to myself probably,” Morgan said lightly. She hadn’t realized that he didn’t put together the connection between them and it was far too awkward, too public to say, oh, I’m a month and change on the other side of death, how about you? But she gave him a warm look and hefted her brain supply for good measure before tucking it into her woven grocery bag. “Oh, you know, lucky guess,“ she said. “I can be too forward sometimes, I know. But we can chit chat on main, like normal people, if you want. Even without the existential angst! I’m Morgan. And you are—?”

“Who doesn’t,” Alain brushed it off, and glanced away from her, looking up at the order counter. It would not be long for him either, now. The piece of paper with the number on was now all crumpled from him fidgeting with it. He took his eyes back to her and watched her pack her purchases. “No harm done. I tend to be the exact opposite of that, so that’s a nice balance,” he almost smiled. Still there was kindness in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. “Let’s. Be normal people with the right amount of existential angst only,” his lips pursed before he replied. “I’m Alain.”

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Art Student and the Angel Wings

genre: urban fantasy, angels/demons, wlw

Words: 4k

Summary: Marnie is an art student just trying to finish her final exhibit, the angel in the corner is a model trying to sit for a mural.

Marnie was always told by her mother: ‘if you see an angel-born, walk the other direction.’ She is suddenly not entirely sure what to do with that

Marnie feels her jaw clench as she stands up, her muscles send a twang of pain from her lower back and she’s pretty sure she’s going to need a cane by the time she’s 30 at this rate. She reaches for the ceiling and stretches, letting out a low grunt as her joints pop and she tries to recover her sense of time and space.

She wiggles her toes in the sand and takes a deep breath, it smells like paints, cleaning supplies, and sweat. Some of which might just be her own, she checks her watch and then glances back at the place she left her good heels.

She checks her watch again.

The fluorescent lights of the studio buzz overhead and her head spins slightly as she wobbles in a circle, she tries to remember if she ate breakfast that morning. Then she remembers it’s installation day, she never eats breakfast on installation day.

She averts her eyes as a tall woman in jet black stilettos and a pile of stark white hair piled high on top of her head starts clicking her way over. Marnie tries not to make eye contact with the stilettos either.

She focuses on evening out the sides of her sand castle again and keeping her head down.

“Marnie Ruoqi?”

“Shit,” she says it under her breath before turning around. She takes a deep breath and starts wiping her hands off, “yes?” Her professor arches one stark white eyebrow, “are you finished?” Marnie gives a creaking smile, “I’m just waiting for a few of the shells?” She poses it like a question she didn’t want to answer.

“How many?” Marnie shrinks a little farther down, “all of them?”

Her professor tuts, “is someone bringing them or are we opening this year with an exhibit unfinished. Again.” Marnie purses her lips, “my friend is bringing them, he’ll be here any second.” Professor Stevens just shakes her head, “go help your classmates until then. I don’t want you overworking this piece right now.” Marnie opens her mouth to say that the piece was meant to be interactive and overworked, but she shuts it again. “Yes professor.” Professor Stevens was already turning and clicking away as she muttered down at her clipboard. It was going to be a long installation day. Marnie looks up see one of the museum studies majors give her a sad look, she makes a face at them.

“Do you need help with those lights?” She calls over as she sees her friend balancing on a ladder by a large window, Marnie runs off in her direction. She doesn’t bother to put her good heels back on, the bags under everyone’s eyes tells her no one’s going to say anything.

There were lights to hang, paint to splatter, and random student’s pottery to help shatter (in the name of modern art of course). Marnie only pauses when she’s halfway to the corner.

She’s mid-step when she sees a bright white splash of color in the corner, white like pristine beaches or newly unwrapped printer paper, white like blazing stars in the sky and newly minted kitchen counters.

She watches the soft light movements of white against gray. She pauses.

Something was in the corner.

She turns her head slightly, trying to catch the whole thing without directly looking at it. Joey Kingsley was facing a giant wall and taking bold, uneven brushstrokes. It was the image of a partially-nude angel with her wings burning up.

In her very ill-kept opinion it was a tacky and ill-thought out piece to begin with, but Marnie hadn’t realized he’d gotten a live model.

Her eyebrows raise as she sees a girl with fluttering white wings propped up stiffly in the corner, she was looking at her phone. She had cascading sandy hair, sun-kissed skin, and wings twice the size of her body spread out against the wall.

Joey was trying to capture her huge, snowy-white wings at the moment with sweat gathering at his brow as he tried to fill in the light, etched feathers one at a time. The girl looked engrossed on facebook or something.

Marnie’s mouth was open, she hadn’t seen an angel-born since grade school and that one had been mostly clothed. Her mother had told her to swerve far far away from it.

She looks away and starts walking the other direction, “wait,” a voice calls after her, “wait,  Marnie, get the lights.” She was still walking.

“Marnie, I’m about to drop them, whoa, ack.” She squeezes her eyes shut before she forces herself to turn on her heels and make it to the corner, catching a string of lights in her hands as a bunch toppled from her friend's grip. “Dammit, Willa.” She says sordidly, “careful.”

She holds the string of Christmas lights up and feels something prickling under her skin off to her right.

Willa arches her eyebrows, “hey, I helped you that one day you needed sand blasted out of your nooks and crann-” “Yes,” she says shrilly, face heating up as she tries not to turn her head right, “yes. That’s right. And thank you.”

“Uh,” Willa looks her over.

“Happy to help,” her voice cracks on the word ‘help’ and Willa’s sharp eyes glance over to her, and then towards Marnie’s stiff stance and partially turned-away body. Willa looks at her again, and then she looks towards the corner. “Ah,” her mouth makes a perfect little ‘o.’ “I see.”

“Let’s get these lights hung up,” Marnie says, she already knew her face was flushing a shiny red color.

Willa cocks her head to the side and mouths something, ‘when’s the last time you went out?’

Marnie just shakes her head emphatically, ‘not interested,’ she mouths back.

Willa whips around quickly anyway.

“Hey Joey,” Willa says instead before looking back to Marnie as she mouths ‘no.’ “You need any help with your exhibit? We only have a few hours left.” Marnie glances over her shoulder just as the angel-born and Joey turn together in one fluid motion towards them, Marnie doesn’t so much as peep- at least on the outside. Joey raises his eyebrows, “what kind of help?”

The angel-born flaps her wings gently, “I could use a coffee.” Joey sniffs, “she could use a coffee.” He surveys the both of them, “and I could use a tea actually. Green tea, light ice.” Marnie’s mouth was open, “but, uh, I have shells coming in a second.” She tries to explain between her own knotted anger and dumbstruck fluttering in her gut. She hadn’t looked directly at her yet.

“How soon?” Willa asks with her eyebrows up.

Marnie gulps, “couple minutes?” Or so. Or soon. Or hopefully within the hour.

Willa pushes on her shoulder playfully, “it’s just right downstairs, help the good man out.” Joey wasn’t looking at them and Marnie has a twitch in her left eye. She clenches her teeth and turns, she could still run. She tells herself she can still run, and then she tells herself to get a grip.

She wasn’t a Speaker anymore than her grandma had been. That time was over, angel-born lived among them now, and this one was looking loosely at her with the expression of a mildly intrigued office secretary. Her eyes were pale, gleaming almost, and focused on all things like sharp laser pointers.

She moved one brazen finger, “come here.” Marnie’s eyes go huge and she feels a shiver through her system, “here, here?” She could almost see the angel-born make a face at her, “like, at least a foot closer. I’m saving my voice.” “Oh,” she inches forward, making sure not to appear like a bigot that just was too freaked to get close to her.

“What would you like?” She tries to form a smile out of muscle and bones, the girl only had on a thin piece of silk twisted around her and tastefully hanging off her shoulder. It barely covered her chest and almost none of her legs except for the things that turned movies into R-rated.

The woman sniffs loudly before cocking her head to the side, “frappe latte, no whip, extra shot of espresso.” Marnie licks her dry lips and nods slightly, “cool.”

She turns stiffly, facing the other direction as quickly as possible, Marnie didn’t believe in prophecies or tinglings in her spine or any type of star-alignments. But she did have a good memory and this all felt strangely familiar.

She takes a couple hobbling steps forward, “be right back.” “Wait.” Marnie freezes like her blood might explode in her veins, she did know this feeling. Concrete or lead strings felt like they were holding her in place.

She turns her head slightly, her smile wavering, “yes?” The woman tilts her head up, “I change my mind, with whip actually.” “Uuh,” she blinks a couple times, “okay.”

She’s fast-walking now, her entire body tingling from head to toe and something fitful stirring deep inside. She remembered words from the old church she went to before they moved: Speakers, Conduits between the heavens and the earth.

She shakes her head and starts running, manners and PCness be damned, she nearly skids out the room like her feet are on fire. She dashes down the exhibit stares and out into the brisk afternoon air with her heart racing.

She leans over with her hands on her knees outside and breathes heavily.

“Come on Marnie,” she wipes her brow, “get a hold of it,” she mutters to herself. It was just another partially nude girl, she had done figure drawing class and her gay ass had gotten through that one brush stroke at a time.

But her mother had never told her to avoid models in the streets.

She forces herself to get in line for an iced green tea and frappe latte, she reminds herself that she’s not a speaker and no one had been in her family for a very long time. She gets to the counter and mumbles some sort of coffee order just as her thoughts drizzle and morph together like storm clouds.

She spaces out for another five minutes, her mother’s voice filling her thoughts like a scent. Walk the other way sweetie.

She’s picking up both drinks when she sees a car against the side street, “Jinu!” She calls out as she sees a young man carrying two boxes full of shells out. “Hell yeah.” She starts running, his expression shifts as Marnie runs out of the cafe and he holds up both items, “Marnie, you crazy bastard, you need to actually lock your doors next time.” She grins and waves both drinks in the air, “how would I get my last minute items for an assignment then?” He shakes his head, “just show me the sand castle before I buy you another lock.” “I wouldn’t use it.” He heaves a giant sigh, “Ah, I know.” “Okay, but hurry, I also gotta get these drinks to people,” she blows a stray piece of hair out of her face, “don’t ask.”

Jinu looks her up and down, “did you get downgraded to ‘intern’ when I was gone?” She groans and turns to climb the stairs, “I’d settle for downgraded to ‘alive’ by the end of this.” “Understood,” he follows her up the two stories as they trade stories of how many paint brushes they’ve lost in the last month alone. “14,” he says with an empty look to his face.

“17.” He raises his eyebrows, “21 then.” She winks, “69.” “420,” they fistbump, or attempt to with things in their hands, and duck back into the art studio.

She hears people calling her name again when she enters and she hurries over to start molding her sand castle again, “wait,” Jinu runs after her, shells in hand, “where do you want these?” “Throw them on,” she says breathlessly, “anywhere, that’s the point.”

Jinu shakes his head at her and Marnie darts over to find the corner-dwellers and bad art decisions still crowded together, Willa is grinning at her nearby.

“I hate you,” she hisses as she passes.

“Love is like that, yeah,” she whispers back and Marnie just squints a look at her.

“We’ll have words after this,” she keeps walking, “starting with ‘terrible wingman’.” “Or best!” Willa yells after her just as she hears someone clear their voice.

“Is that my frappe?” Marnie straightens up and turns her head creakily toward the source of the voice, she feels the same electric tingle through her system. Something was going on. She very much couldn’t deny that at this point.

“Tea,” Joey snaps his fingers without looking over, “tea me. Please.” Tea bag him more like, amirite, amiright? She could hear Jinu’s voice in her head saying that with his hand waving in the air waiting for a high-five.

She blinks back the image. “Tea.” She hands it over to him and then forces her popping joints to swerve around, “frappe.” “Thanks darling,” the angel had a southern accent. A subtle one, but enough to make Marnie pause for a long second. Her electric pale eyes were focused on her for another moment, she carefully puts the straw in her mouth and starts to suck.

Marnie ducks her head down and is about to scramble off to the farthest reaches of nowhere when she hears the same thick throat-clear. Marnie pauses and the surrounding air makes her shiver.

“Could I ask for one more thing?” The girl says roughly, “real quick, I swear.”

Anything.

Marnie had a bad feeling about that voice in her head, her mouth becomes a little dot as she purses her lips and turns. “Sure.”

“Could you hold my wing up?” She points to her right wing, “I’ve been keeping it there for forever now, Joey says he’s almost done now but it’s cramping.” “Yes, almost done.” Joey interjects, but Marnie honestly can’t tell one brush stroke he’s making from another at this point. It’s just a lot of white paint. And burnt bits he was pasting over it. Marnie cringes and glances at Joey and then back to the girl, “it’ll only be for a second.” The angel-born takes another deep sip of her drink and Marnie has the sudden feeling she can’t say no.

She takes several mechanical steps forward and feels the air buzz, it’s like her socks are going to fly off at any second as her fingers tremble over the soft white feathers in front of her. She peers over, “are you sure?” She’s not sure what she’s asking.

“They aren’t made of glass, go ahead.” The angel-born glances back down at her phone and Marnie can only shift in place.

“Okay…” She gasps softly to herself as she feels the silken, light feathers under her fingertips, she goes to hold the frame up. “There,” the girl groans, “oh god yes, just a little higher.” They were surprisingly light as she feels the weight of the wing come down into her hands and she holds the tips up. She tries to ignore the room spinning and her own ears cotton-ing up.

She was going to have to call her grandmother about this later she finally concludes.

She feels a pair of eyes on her again, Marnie stands perfectly still as the angel-born scans her, her eyes go down, “you’re not wearing shoes.” Marnie arches her eyebrows, Joey ignores the pair of them as he makes more bold large brush strokes of the girl’s wings.

Marnie shakes her head and whispers, “hate heels. Only going to put them back on when the folks arrive.” The girl nods slightly, “what’s your name?”

“Marnie,” Marnie says dryly, “you?” Her insides ache a little bit, the warm feathers pulse in her hands.

“June-Mary Sue,” she says with her lips pushed out, “or JMS for short, Jams for long.” “Jams?” “Jams.” Marnie shifts in place again, she bites her bottom lip, “I’ve never, you know, never-” “I can tell,” Jams says with a quirk of a smile on her lips. “But I don’t hold it against you. Some people just weren’t raised to see us as approa-” “I’m not a bigot,” she says quickly, as quickly as she can. “I’m just having this feeling.” “Feeling?” Jams wrinkled her brow and leans toward her like Marnie had just started a lecture that was going to be on the final.

Marnie’s face heats up, “not, like, feeling feeling. Or bad feeling or like gay feeling.” She pauses and her brain scrambles for words, her eyes dart down. “Kinda gay feeling.”

Jams covers her mouth and laughs, “I’m flattered.” “Oh jeez,” she wrinkles her nose up, “please ignore that.” She turns, trying to figure out if she’s turning away from her or toward her, her eyes flash up, “unless you’re feeling the thing too?” Jams laughing face relaxes for a moment and she seems to scan her again, eyes hovering loosely over her forearm and face. “Should I?” “Oh,” Marnie hunches over and her gut twists, “No. It’s just. It must just be me.”

“I mean,” Jams tilts her head to the side, “it’s not every day I meet a Speaker, but I try not to have ‘kinda gay feelings’ right off the bat.” Marnie’s mouth falls open, her hands begin to fall to her side as she lets the wings go, everything inside her grinds to halt like a combustion engine with a wrench thrown into it. She blinks, “Gotta go.”

She turns around and thinks about nothing, nothing, nothing. “Wait,” Jams wraps the single piece of ribbon more tightly around herself, “wait, wait.” Marnie was still walking.

“Hey, I’m not done love,” Joey was protesting next.

“Oh you were done an hour ago.” Jams snaps with her slight southern accent tilt.

“Wait,” several voices were calling out that word.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, Marnie doesn’t turn around. She looks at the floor, “I have to check on my exhibit.” “I didn’t mean to give you any orders,” Jams was speaking quickly, her sparkling skin hovering right in front of her as her mouth moved. “I didn’t figure it out until you came back up the stairs. And then the uh, wing thing.” Marnie was threading a hand through her hair, “I’m not a Speaker.” Jams frowns slightly at that, “you’re barefoot.” Marnie’s face crumples up, “uh, that doesn’t make me a conduit between heaven and earth?” Marnie’s eyebrows rise, “what have they been telling you about Speakers?” “That they were told commandments by the angels back in the day and carried them to like, man,” Marnie replies on auto-pilot. Her interactive sand-castle installment needed more shells. “They were ‘loyal servants’.” Jams visibly cringes, “my mom always said I should be more careful.” She mutters to herself, “I really didn’t mean to give you any orders.” Marnie’s entire body releases, she jerks her face up, “don’t tell me to kill anyone or anything.”

“I wouldn’t-” “‘Cause that would really suck. Or like, go to war for you or break into someone’s house.” Jams covers her face, “ah fuck.” Marnie tilts her head to the side, “Can angels curse?” Jams makes a face at her, “Can humans fly?” “No?” “Yes, you invented airplanes,” Jams eyes focus on her, “and this of all days. They always said she’d come to me, barefoot and bearing gifts.” Marnie shook her head, “I should go.” She sinks into herself a little farther, “I, uh, don’t really have time to spread God’s word right now? I have finals to finish.” Jams was rubbing her face, “we should talk.” “We should… art,” she still doesn’t move. Something comes over her like the burning dawn. She turns to Jams with ice coursing through her veins, “you told me to wait.” “Ah fuck,” she says again, “part two.” Jams takes a step backward, “my child of saints,” she says quickly, “go and do as you please.” Marnie takes two forceful steps forward and then looks over her shoulder, “did you just call me a child of saints?” Jams waves, “go do your art.” Marnie suddenly has a deep feeling in her gut that she suddenly doesn’t understand anything.

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

Thousands of years ago angels, demons, and humans lived in separate spheres, the heaven, hells, and earths of the world. Separated by their hatred and differences and very old Words uttered long ago.

A war spanned between them for eons, fighting for land, for glory, and mostly for the hearts, minds, and souls of the last neutral party.

Humans were fought over, bribed and threatened, bullied and showered with gifts for the favor of kings and leaders of man. But even eternal wars can have ends, even bridges can be built if people are willing to try.

Even demons and angels get tired.

God had gone quite a long time ago and the gifts would only last so long in his mythic children of wings and horns. The humans had built walls after walls to keep the angels and demons out, weary of being used as pawns and prizes by unknown forces.

The demons came first, putting down their weapons, hanging their heads, saying maybe they wouldn’t be better, but they would be different. Afterall, God had gone quite a long time ago. The angels were next, one by one, marching toward a new city, a new end, anything but the endless war.

Humans were last.

They remembered centuries of fires and pillage, and shiny gifts where horrors jumped out in the end. That’s what they called ‘Speakers’ eventually, those who were gifted with a burden like no other.

They could relay the messages of the distant angels, of things to come and things that were, and commandments to still the raging waters and quell furious fires. They could speak the words of sanctity and be the vessel of light on earth.

That was of course, in exchange for loyalty without question, following without choice. They were vessels and bridges between the two worlds, but only one world could rule.

Marnie swallows her own tongue as she walks, but Speakers were supposed to be decommissioned ages ago, relics of a bygone era that had been ‘taken care of.’

She starts putzing around in the sand again as she feels a pair of eyes bore into her back.

“Shell here,” Marnie kicks one of her towers down and places a shell on top, “shell here.” She pushes a bridge over and places another shell. Destroying the piece was half of the point.

“What is this?” She finally hears Jams asking from behind her, “and that isn’t an order.” Marnie clenches her jaw shut and doesn’t remember how to move again, “I’m kind of processing something right now.” “Yeah, I’m little surprised myself,” She looks over to see Jams scratching her nose, “but I am actually curious,” she gestures around at the large exhibit with sand in the middle.” Marnie takes a deep breath, “it’s an interactive sand-castle exhibit,” she finally explains as she pushes her hair back. “What’s it do?” Jams cocks her head to the side and Marnie tries not to look at her directly in the face. “Nothing,” she takes a moment before a smile tugs at her lips. “Everything.” She picks up a shovel, “people are supposed to come in here and build their own castles.” She nods, “recapture how they felt as a kid or just have fun or whatever.” “And then?” “And then do it all again,” Marnie looks up at the ceiling and the buzzing of the fluorescents just ahead, “that’s the point.” She blinks, “life is like art, yeah? Life should be a little fun, even if it’s all destroyed by someone or something else later on and it’s all temporary.” Marnie drops her dissertation down on the angel-born’s lap and Jams whole face lights up, “that’s actually,” her face was almost dazzling. “That’s really lovely.” Marnie takes a step back, “I’m not getting an art degree just to cry over it.” She wags a finger in the air, “I’m getting it to cry over and also wake up with sand in my bed every night.” Jams let out another rough laugh, like bubbled it up from some volcanic lake in her core and came spilling out, raw and bubbling. “Oh my God.” They both smile and Jams nods, “Imma go get dressed.” She gestures down, “and then we should talk.” Marnie hums deeply, “is that an order?” Jams face hardens slightly, “never.” She takes a deep breath, “not that I’m not new to this either.” Marnie waves, “we can talk.” She nods, “if you can get ahold of me after I’m covered in art-ho babes after this.” Jams’s eyebrows raise, “I’ll accept that challenge.” Marnie snorts, “they can smell the student-debt on me and come flocking.” Jams laughs again, “stop it or else I really will start shooting light out of my eyes.” Marnie’s eyes go wide, “like Zeus?” Jams rolls her eyes, “just like Zeus, yes.” “Students!” Marnie jumps as Professor Stevens claps her hands, “gather round my flock.” Jams waves and mouths the words ‘that’s my cue.’

Marnie scrambles to gather herself, get an A in his exhibit class and try to reconcile with the fact she just found out she’s a relic from a holy war from over a thousand years ago.

A/N: hey! I don’t normally do this but I had a lot of conflicting instincts for this story

On one hand, it can be a two-shot, a simple clean story with one more part. Or! Halfway through writing this the story sort of showed itself to me as potentially a long-form piece that is however-long

Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck with my long-form stories and I find people are less interested in them than my short stories (less notes, less comments, ect)

SO I have a little survey: POLL

it just asks whether you would like to see a serial series of something like this that was released around every week.