#i managed to convince my parents to buy it since its on sale

[anpmalies]

my first drawing using clip studio paint...

[stories-poetry4all]

Do I have your undivided attention, Ms. Goodacre?"

I snap my focus back to my boss, Ivan Stepanov, who's giving me that trademark look of his—not that I've messed up, but because that's just his default setting.

Truly, he's the living proof of the cautionary tale parents tell their children about the risk of a face freezing in a permanent scowl if they're not careful.

I suppose his annoyance is somewhat justified. Not that he knows it.

He just caught me in the middle of a vivid daydream, where I'm wielding a magical remote with the power to silence his endless chatter at the press of a button. My fantasy escalates to the point where I hit the fast-forward button, zipping him through his lavish office's panoramic windows and into a comedic dive into the bustling streets of Manhattan.

It's hard to fault my daydream; the day has stretched my patience to its limits, and I can feel my stomach growling.

I am thoroughly DONE with jumping through hoops for him today.

I've been at Stepanov Holdings since an ungodly hour this morning, after leaving the office last night at 10:00 P.M. For goodness' sake, I even missed the Season Finale of the Bachelor.

I haven't had a moment's peace today, and now, without having had my lunch at 3:00 P.M., I'm just about ready to call it quits on this devil in an Armani suit.

Without my trusty sidekick—aka four shots of espresso—I'd be a goner for sure.

Yet, even fueled by caffeine, I'm a hot mess express.

I'm mentally face-palming for convincing myself that buying these ultra-skinny work trousers on sale was a savvy decision.

Right now, my legs are on the brink of rebellion, decidedly unhappy about being crammed into what I thought was a steal of a deal. I had to wear an extra long dress shirt to mask my camel toe.

Ivan, meanwhile, is the picture of unbothered elegance.

It's actually unfair how he manages to look like he's stepped out of a magazine, despite being on the go as much as he is.

His suit, his stubble, those piercing eyes—nothing's out of place.

"Ms. Goodacre, you haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right," I manage to say. "Yes, you have my full attention." My eyes dart to my notebook. "The financial report is due to be reviewed by Mr. Thompson in Compliance first thing. Also, new ergonomic chairs for the executive conference room have been ordered, and I'll follow up on the delivery. Your 10:00 A.M. tomorrow is now at 11:30, the 11:30 has moved to 2:15. And for next Thursday's meeting, I've left a note saying—they can, um, 'get lost.' Did I miss anything?"

Ivan raises an eyebrow, a gesture that could mean anything from ‘I’m impressed’ to ‘you're on thin ice.’

"Is there a hint of sarcasm I detect?"

Keeping my expression as blank as possible, I reply, "Not at all, sir. After the incident with the incorrect financial forecast last month, you wanted 'zero sass'. I remember."

"Hm."

That sound, coming from Ivan Stepanov, the enigmatic CEO of Stepanov Holdings, is enough to send shivers down the spine of anyone. I've seen it—a supplier once came in to negotiate a contract and left looking like they needed a stretcher, all because of a single "Hm" from Ivan.

He's not just formidable to outsiders; even I've been on the verge of tears more times than I can count since starting here. And yet, here I am, plotting his remote control demise as a form of twisted self-therapy. What has my life come to?

"And the email I asked for?"

I hand a printed email to the corporate lion.

He looks at me, his gaze as penetrating as a laser.

"I asked for this to be emailed, Miss Goodacre," he says with a voice smoother than a whiskey on the rocks.

"Oh, it’s been sent," I retort, sprinkling just the right amount of sass into my words. "But given its vanishing act last time, I thought a hard copy might stick around longer."

He raises his eyebrow again. I’d bet a million dollars he popped out of the womb with that exact same intimidating expression.

Intimidating and sexy.

It's in fleeting moments like this I find myself admiring just how unforgivably handsome he is. Despite my best efforts. The tall, dark, and brooding thing really works for him. If only his personality matched the exterior.

Wishful thinking.

With the elegance of a maestro, Ivan navigates to his inbox, spots the email, and dives into a reply. All business, no pleasantries.

Then, without missing a beat, he's onto his next demand. "I’ll be having a late lunch from that Mediterranean place on 5th. They're always swamped, just so you know. Please tend to the paperwork on your desk when you return."

Being an assistant to a man who thinks the world revolves around his wants requires a particular brand of insanity.

If I didn’t need this job so badly, I might just have the courage to tell him where to shove his five-star meal.

"Thank you, Miss Goodacre."

Clearly, my time's up.

As I make my way to Medina, the city's rhythm pulsates through the streets, a symphony of honking taxis, chattering pedestrians, and the ever-present tune of sirens in the distance.

Navigating Manhattan's Financial District is akin to playing a real-life game of Tetris, where I dart and weave through an obstacle course of tourists mesmerized by skyscrapers stopping to snap a photo of literally everything.

It’s a dance of waiting, smiling politely, and gently nudging the staff with a reminder that I am there to pick up an urgent business lunch for Stepanov Holdings to get the order expedited.

Upon securing the culinary treasure, I return to Stepanov Holdings Headquarters. The building, much like Ivan, stands tall, imposing, and unapologetically opulent.

By the time I return, holding Ivan's gourmet lunch and my modest salad, he's vanished.

Typical.

As I settle down to tackle the mountain of paperwork he's generously left behind, my desk phone starts ringing off the hook.

My phone becomes a hot potato, passing from one crisis to another with the skill of a seasoned diplomat promising that Mr. Stepanov will indeed return all calls, knowing fully well he won't.

Between bites of my salad and sips of coffee that's already gone cold, I navigate the treacherous waters of high finance by soothing egos and making promises I can only hope Ivan will keep.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

A smidgen of recognition from Ivan wouldn’t hurt.

Some acknowledgment of the tireless effort behind making his life run as smoothly as a well-oiled machine.

As I glance at his untouched lunch, a part of me wants so badly to dump it on over his head. I’ll have to save that vision for my next daydream.

Ivan sweeps back into the office like a stormfront.

"The paperwork, Miss Goodacre," he says, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

My eyes dart between the semi-conquered paper mountain and him. "I didn't forget." I start, trying to keep the frustration from my voice. "Your clients have been calling nonstop, and I’ve been doing my best to keep them from losing their cool."

He fixes me with a look that could freeze lava. “Ten minutes."

I open my mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops me—the unyielding demand, the expectation of perfection.

In his world, there's no room for excuses, no space for the human element.

He leans in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I hired you because I thought you could handle the pressure. Don't prove me wrong."

With that parting shot, he strides away, leaving me feeling about two inches tall.

It's moments like these that I question my life choices.

Anger and frustration bubble up inside me like a shaken soda bottle, threatening to explode. But I refuse to cry, refuse to show any weakness in this high-stakes game of corporate chess.

Instead, I channel all that emotion into finishing the paperwork, my fingers flying over the keyboard like a pianist in the midst of a frenzied solo.

Feeling like I could blow up any minute.

Finally, with the printouts in hand, I march to Ivan's office.

I drop the papers onto his desk with a deliberate thump, watching them scatter forcefully.

He looks up, his expression unreadable as the papers flutter across his desk.

"That’s everything you asked for," I announce, my voice quivering with a storm of suppressed fury. "Now if you don’t mind, I’m clocking out for the rest of the day." The words hang between us, a bold line drawn after a day where every ounce of my patience was tested.

For a moment, Ivan only watches me, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

It's infuriating, like shouting into a void and waiting for an echo that never comes.

Ivan finally breaks the tense silence, his voice as steady and composed as ever, betraying no sign of irritation or amusement. "Miss Goodacre, you’re free to leave," he says, his tone embodying the very essence of professional detachment he has practically made as his signature.

I quietly leave his office, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

I gather my things, pretending to be calm, my hands shaking as I shove my laptop into my bag.

I could totally be fired tomorrow.

I don't look back as I leave, the doors closing behind me with a finality that feels oddly satisfying.

The cool air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to let go of the anger and the frustration.

As I walk, my mind keeps replaying the scene in Ivan's office.

That unreadable look in his eyes, was it indifference or something else?

"The chemistry is off the charts and the characters work well together.

[erinpilolla]

Applying TV Infomercials to Modern Advertising : Moon Sand

By Erin Pilolla

Moon Sand was a hydrophobic children's play and craft material made from a blend of sand and other compounds that prevented it from drying out while still maintaining its moldability. The idea for the toy was not particularly groundbreaking, and in fact it can be made at home easily. Kinetic sand is a popular modern counterpart you can find in most major stores. But Moon Sand, which was first introduced in August 2006, has its own unique brand identity and was successful in generating thousands of sales by using the power of branding and commercial production while TV was still one of the most effective channels of advertising. The commercial, in all its early 2000’s glory, pulls kids in with its upbeat and horn-filled tune. Then, wow- there are a lot of awesome things you can do with this Moon Sand. You can turn it into a bowling ball and pins? You can make an entire farm of animals? As if it can't get any cooler, Moon Sand came with a branded carrying kit and molds for your sand. It's a classic formula for kid's advertising: Fun music, a friendly and excited narrator, and lots of examples of how you can do something exciting with the product they advertise with "just a little" parent assistance. Yet, Moon Sand manages to put a fresh twist on what one may expect from traditional methods of days yore, and still holds a nostalgic place in my heart.

Don't get me wrong, my mom did buy me this because I begged her to, and I cannot recall using it more than maybe once or twice. The few times I did use it it was a huge disappointment, and I certainly was not going to be able to bowl with this mess. Since it didn't hold its shape very well and apparently came with only castle molds, you couldn't do much with it except make castles, unless of course you purchased more molds separately. I'm thoroughly convinced the commercial hired professionals for the commercial to create castles using additional materials. The product itself, and maybe to some extent the entire brand, was not much more than yet another meaningless cash grab thrown out into a sea of consumers the company hoped to profit off of. It did feel really satisfying to squish between your fingers though.

Moon Sand was not exceptional, but it didn't need to be, because for some reason the brand and commercial still stick out in my mind and it felt like a product I had to have, as if my life depended on it. I vividly remember the commercial coming on and how excited I would be, almost stressed, as I would run around to find a pen and paper, hoping to finally write down the phone number for the product and the name of it. It took several tries, since the commercial was so fast, and I would try to explain to my extremely confused mother what it was and why I could not relax until I had this sand. Didn’t she understand that we could potentially not order fast enough, and miss out on the additional two moon sand molds the commercial offered for free to the first callers?

The early 2000's have already captured a particular time in history that we will never see again, a blend of culture and circumstance that was completely unique. Technology's pervasive spread and rapidly changing trends in business and personal habits made for a memorable and transformative landscape for Gen Z to grow up during. Sometimes referred to as "Digital Natives," a majority of people in the U.S. under the age of 30 have spent their entire lives having access to or awareness of new technology like smartphones, streaming services, and cell phone apps. At the same time however, many of them have also had some exposure to older, "traditional" technology such as landline/flip phones, dial up, and desktop websites on the internet. As these forms of communication and creation have become more outdated, they also start to feel much simpler, and can bring about feelings of nostalgia or longing.

Many of our childhood experiences included a unique blend of both modern and traditional media, so it is important that is reflected in representations of Gen Z characters and through advertising. Including references to media and historical moments of the early 2000s that had cultural impact is a great way to boost engagement and improve consumer relations, including toys and children's shows that were popular such as Moon Sand. This is especially true of groups or topics that may have been niche or underrepresented at the time. Since many more people have access to past media than ever before, content that is easy to find and frequently pushed can become quickly oversaturated or seem stale to these consumers. Therefore, finding content that is truly relevant to your consumers and less obvious to the mainstream can greatly improve your brand standing.

Moon Sand used trends of the time to be able to draw in and hold a captive audience with their TV commercial. At the ending they provide a website which you could log onto and purchase through, as well as a phone number to call. They offered extra product as an incentive for purchasing over the phone. Modern advertisements can feel confusing and unrelated to the original product they are supposed to be informing you about, but this commercial is straightforward and has an obvious sales intent. In a time where it can be hard to distinguish ad from art, many younger generations feel refreshed by this kind of simplicity and lack of obfuscation.

As marketers, it is important to utilize channels of communication that make it the most likely for your message to be seen by the desired demographics. While we may have moved away from some of the forms of media that Moon Sand used to build its branding and attempt to generate sales, we can still mimic the aspects of traditional forms of media that were most enjoyed by younger generations in their childhood by tailoring user experiences and communicating in ways that make sense to these audiences.

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[mi6014ikepearson]

WILLIAM LAWSON’S - “UNDERSTANDING THE BRAND”

my 18th birthday was somewhat different to the stories stereotypically found within the masses of a general public.

I turned 18, on June 18th 2020 - during the early days of what was considered to be the height of the UK’s COVID_19 pandemic, lockdown restrictions, and as such; there was no going out and destroying my liver, as is a common adolescent experience.

my birthday consisted of staying at home, having a cake with my family, and going out to the shop to buy my first legal bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey; a lubricant in the transitional period between finishing school and moving out to start university.

though long since are the days of buying biweekly bottles of whiskey; I still hold a taste for the stuff - with my personal favourite cocktail on the occasion that I am out being a treble disaronno n’ coke

and what is scotch but the richer((er)er)-man’s whiskey..

A HISTORY IN SOME SCOTCH - “THE TALE OF WILLIAM LAWSON”

despite my usually quite thorough approach to research - details regarding the history behind this particular brand are seemingly highly disputed: 

so with disparities in the information;      I was tasked with attempting to piece together a somewhat coherent timeline..

I began by looking into the background of the Lawson surname; with its roots dating earliest as a sept name of the Highlander Clan MacLaren - which originated from the Dál Riata Scottish/Northern Irish territories.

it is through my understanding that the man himself: William Lawson      (not to be confused with the famous explorer of the same name) was born in Western Scotland sometime in the 1850′s.

it’s said that after migrating to Ireland he was an Exports Manager at a spirits company in Dublin throughout the late 1880′s, early 1890′s - and while there, he convinced his employers to name their blended Scotch whisky after him.

He moved between Ireland, Scotland and England. The William Lawson’s whisky is produced with a high malt content, similar to the blend was first produced by William Lawson in 1849 under the label ‘Lawson’s Liqueur Whiskey’ which were registered to Edward & John Burke.

PRE-PAST, POST-PRESENT AND PFUTURE - “MODERN DAY & FUTURE LAWSON’S”

“ William Lawson's is a blended Scotch whisky brand created in 1849 and belonging to Bacardi Limited.

..distilled and blended in the Macduff distillery alongside the Glen Deveron single malt whisky since the distillery was acquired by William Lawson Distillers Ltd in 1972. ”

currently William Lawsons is a brand that is ran under Bacardi, as their parent company - and under their ownership they have risen from the 6th best selling scotch in the world (2014) to the 4th best selling scotch in 2021, with sales of 3.4 million cases in 2021. 

The brand have the best sales in France, Portugal, Spain and Mexico: with a strong European, and South-American market due to their bold and witty adverts that encapsulate the brand’s sense of humour and uphold the company values,

an aspect that we will be discussing, soon      in our next blog post..

[shihalyfie]

About the Adventure: reboot, the likely reason why it exists, the question of target demographic, and whether I would recommend it or not

I think this reboot has been kind of a strange outlier in terms of Digimon anime in general, in terms of...well, just about everything. I also feel like everything surrounding it has kind of been giving us mixed signals as to what the intent and purpose behind the anime is -- well, besides “cashing in on the Adventure brand”, but looking at it more closely, that might be a bit of an oversimplification.

I’m writing this post because, having seen the entire series to the end for myself and thinking very hard about it and what it was trying to do, I decided to put down my thoughts. This is not meant to be a review of what I think was good and bad, but rather, something that I hope will be helpful to those who might be on the fence about whether they want to watch it or not, or those who don’t want to watch/finish it but are curious about what happened, or those who are curious as to why this reboot even exists in the first place, or even maybe just those who did watch it but are interested in others’ thoughts about it. I'm personally convinced that -- especially in an ever-changing franchise like Digimon -- how much you like a given work is dependent on what your personal tastes are to the very end, and thus it’s helpful to understand what kind of expectations you should go in with if you want to watch something.

With all of this said and done, if you want to go in and best enjoy this series, I think it is best to consider this anime as a distinct Digimon series of its own. The relationship to Adventure is only surface-level, and by that I mean it’s very obvious it’s doing things its own thing deliberately without worrying too much about what prior series did. Of course, I think everyone will have varying feelings about using the Adventure branding for something that really isn't Adventure at all, but we are really talking about an in-name-only affair, and something that’s unabashedly doing whatever it wants. So in other words, if you’re going in expecting Adventure, or anything that really resembles Adventure, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. But if you’re able to approach it like yet another distinct Digimon series, and the other aspects of it fit your fancy, you’ll probably be able to enjoy it much better. And, conversely, I think it’s also important to remember that this series seems to have a writing philosophy with a fundamentally different goal from most Digimon series, and since it’s understandable for most long-time Digimon fans to have their tastes built on those prior series, it’s fine and completely understandable that this reboot may not be your cup of tea, for reasons that probably don’t actually have much to do with whether it’s an Adventure reboot or not.

There are no spoilers in the following post. (Although I use some emphatic language for the duration for it, these are mostly just my personal thoughts and how I see the series and the overall situation.)

On what exact relationship to Adventure this series has, and why it’s an “Adventure reboot”

If you ask why they did an Adventure reboot, the easiest answer to come up with is “Adventure milking, because it’s profitable”, but that’s kind of an oversimplification of what the issue is. This is especially when you take into account a key fact that official has been very well aware of since as early as 2006: most kids are too young to have seen Adventure, and therefore have no reason to care about it.

That’s the thing: Adventure milking only works so well on today’s children, and Toei and Bandai know this. This is also the reason that the franchise started going through a bit of a “split” starting in around 2012 (after Xros Wars finished airing), when the video game branch started making more active attempts to appeal to the adults’ fanbase with Re:Digitize and Adventure PSP. (Although they were technically still “kids’ games”, they were very obviously aimed at the adults’ audience as a primary “target”.) The generation that grew up with Adventure and other classic Digimon anime was getting older and older, and targeting that audience would require tailoring products more specifically to them -- ultimately culminating in 2015 and the solidification of “very obviously primarily for adults” media in the form of both games (Cyber Sleuth and Next Order) and anime (tri.). Note that Appmon ended up getting its own 3DS game, but since it was targeted at kids, it seems to have been developed by a completely different pipeline/branch from the aforementioned adults’ games, so even that had a split.

So if we want to talk about full-on nostalgia pandering, that’s already being done in the adults’ branch. In fact, Appmon development specifically said that they felt free to not really care about the adults’ audience because that was tri.’s job. Of course, the hardcore Digimon adults’ fanbase is still keeping an eye on the kids’ shows, and it’s good to not upset them -- and, besides, even if we’re all suffering under the hell of capitalism, people who work in kids’ shows still tend to be very passionate about the content and messages they’re showing the kids, so they still put an effort into making good content that adults can enjoy too. But, nevertheless, adults are still the “periphery demographic”, and a kids’ show is not a success if the kids (who have not seen and do not care about Adventure) are not watching it or buying the toys. Appmon ended up being extremely well-received by the adults’ fanbase, but that all meant nothing since the kids didn’t get into it.

Most kids are not super incredibly discerning about so-called writing quality (it’s not like they don’t at least unconsciously know when something is good, but they’re much less likely to be bothered by little things adults are often bothered by), so there’s a certain degree you have to get their attention if you want things to catch on with them. Critical reception does matter a lot more when we talk about the adults’ audience, but for the kids, the more important part is how much you’ve managed to engage them and how much fun they’re having (especially in regards to the toyline). Moreover, there’s the problem of “momentum”; Digimon’s sister shows of PreCure, Kamen Rider, and Super Sentai have sometimes had really poorly performing shows (critically or financially), but have managed to recover it in successive years to avoid getting cancelled. Digimon never managed to get to that point, with sales nearly dropping to half with Tamers and again with Frontier. So in essence, Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon were all attempts at figuring out what was needed to just get that “kickstart” again -- but things just never lined up for it to work.

So if kids don’t really care about Adventure, why would they do Adventure nostalgia pandering? The answer is one that official has actually openly stated multiple times: they want to have parents watch it together with their children. Both Seki and Kinoshita said this in regards to watching the reaction to Kizuna, and it was also stated outright as a goal for the reboot, but, believe it or not, there’s reports of this having been stated back as early as Savers (followed by an admission that maybe 2006 was a little too early for people who grew up with Adventure to be old enough to have their own kids). So the little nostalgia references in Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon aren't really meant to magically turn the series into Adventure as much as they’re supposed to be flags waved at the parents to get them to pay attention, so that they can introduce their kids to Digimon and watch it together with them, until the kids eventually take an interest on their own and they don’t need to rely on that kind of standby as much. (I say “as much” because of course PreCure, Rider, and Sentai all are still very indulgent in their anniversary references, but they’re not nearly as reliant on it to the point of life-and-death.)

This is also why Kizuna’s existence and release date two months prior to the reboot is a huge factor in this. The reason tri. wouldn’t have done it is that it never actually reached a properly “mainstream” audience. It’s a huge reason I keep emphasizing the fact that tri. and Kizuna are two separate things with completely different production and release formats, because tri. being a limited OVA screening released in six parts over three years means that, although it was a moderate financial success that did better than the franchise’s other niche products, in the end, it didn’t actually reach the “extremely casual” audience very well. We, as the “hardcore Internet fanbase”, all know people who watched all six parts, and the difference between tri. and Kizuna’s release formats doesn’t hit us as hard because of international distribution circumstances, but even on our end, if you talk to your casual friends who barely remember anything about Digimon except what they saw on TV twenty years ago, you will almost never find anyone who got past Part 1, maybe 2 at most. (That’s before we even get into the part where a good chunk of them got turned off at the character design stage for being too different.) Sticking with a full six-part series over three years is a commitment, and if you’re not someone with a certain level of loyalty to the franchise, you aren’t as likely to put aside the time for it!

Kizuna, on the other hand, was a full-on theatrical movie with full marketing campaign that was aimed at that extremely casual mainstream audience, including a lot of people who hadn’t even heard of tri. (due to it being too niche) or hadn’t bothered to commit to watching something so long, and thus managed to “hype up” a lot of adults and get them in a Digimon mood. (Critical reception issues aside, this is also presumably a huge reason Kizuna isn’t all that reliant on tri.’s plot; Adventure and 02 both averaged at around 11% of the country watching it when it first aired, but the number of people who even saw tri. much less know what happened in it is significantly lower, so while you can appeal to a lot of people if you’re just targeting the 11%, you'll lock them out if you’re overly reliant on stuff a lot of them will have never seen in the first place.) We’re talking the kind of super-casual who sees a poster for Kizuna, goes “oh I remember Digimon!”, casually buys a ticket for the movie, likes it because it has characters they remember and the story is feelsy, and then two months later an anime that looks like the Digimon they recognize is on Fuji TV, resulting in them convincing their kid to watch it together with them because they’re in a Digimon mood now, even though the actual contents of the anime are substantially different from the original.

So, looking back at the reboot:

There’s a huge, huge, huge implication that the choice to use Adventure branding was at least partially to get Fuji TV to let them have their old timeslot back. Neither Xros Wars nor Appmon were able to be on that old timeslot, presumably because Fuji TV had serious doubts about their profitability (perhaps after seeing Savers not do very well). This isn’t something that hits as hard for us outside Japan who don’t have to feel the impact of this anyway, but it’s kind of a problem if kids don’t even get the opportunity to watch the show in the first place. While there’s been a general trend of moving to video-on-demand to the point TV ratings don’t really have as much impact as they used to, I mean...it sure beats 6:30 in the morning, goodness. (Note that a big reason PreCure, Rider, and Sentai are able to enjoy the comfortable positions they’re in is that they have a very luxurious 8:30-10 AM Sunday block on TV Asahi dedicated to them.)

Since we’re talking about “the casual mainstream”, this means that this kind of ploy only works with something where a casual person passing by can see names and faces and take an interest. This is why it has to be Adventure, not 02 or Tamers or whatnot; 02 may have had roughly similar TV ratings to Adventure and fairly close sales figures back in 2000, but the actual pop culture notability disparity in this day and age is humongous (think about the difference in pop culture awareness between Butter-Fly and Target). 02, Tamers, and all can do enough to carry “adults’ fandom” products and merch sales at DigiFes, and the adults’ branch of the franchise in general, but appealing to the average adult buying toys for the kids is a huge difference, and a big reason that, even if they’re clearly starting to acknowledge more of the non-Adventure series these days, it’s still hard to believe they’re going to go as far as rebooting anything past Adventure -- or, more accurately, hard to believe they’ll be able to get the same impact using names and faces alone.

This advertising with the Adventure brand goes beyond just the anime -- we’re talking about the toyline that has the involved character faces plastered on them, plus all of the ventures surrounding them that Bandai pretty obviously carefully timed to coincide with this. One particularly big factor is the card game, which is doing really, really well right now, to the point it’s even started gaining an audience among people who weren’t originally Digimon fans. Part of it is because the game’s design is actually very good and newcomer-friendly, but also...nearly every set since the beginning came with reboot-themed Tamer Cards, which means that, yes, those cards with the Adventure names and faces were helping lure people into taking an interest in the game. Right now, the game is doing so well and has gained such a good reputation that it probably doesn’t need that crutch anymore to keep going as long as the game remains well-maintained, but I have no doubt the initial “Adventure” branding was what helped it take off, and its success is most likely a huge pillar sustaining the franchise at the current moment.

Speaking of merch and toys, if you look closely, you might notice that Bandai decided to go much, much more aggressively into the toy market with this venture than they ever did with Savers, Xros Wars, or Appmon (Appmon was probably the most aggressive attempt out of said three). They put out a lot more merch and did a lot more collaborative events to engage the parents and children, and, presumably, the reason they were able to do this was because they were able to push into those outlets with the confidence the Adventure brand would let them be accepted (much like with Fuji TV). Like with the card game, the important part was getting their “foot in the door” so that even if it stopped being Adventure after a fashion, they’d still have all of those merchandising outlets -- after all, one of the first hints we ever got of Ghost Game’s existence was a July product listing for its products replacing the reboot’s in a gachapon set, so we actually have evidence of certain product pipelines being opened by the reboot’s precedent. (The word 後番組 literally means “the TV program that comes after”, so it’s pretty obvious this was intended for Ghost Game; in other words, the reboot’s existence helped ensure there be a “reservation” for this kind of product to be made.)

I think one important thing to keep in mind is that Toei and Bandai have as much of a stake in avoiding rehashing for their kids’ franchises as we do. Even if you look at this from a purely capitalistic perspective, because of how fast the “turnover” is for the kids’ audience, sustaining a franchise for a long time off rehashing the same thing over and over is hard, and even moreso when it involves a twenty-year-old anime that said kids don’t even know or remember. Ask around about popular long-running Japanese kids’ franchises and you’ll notice they practically rely on being able to comfortably change things up every so often, like PreCure/Rider/Sentai shuffling every year, or Yu-Gi-Oh! having a rotation of different series and concepts, or the struggles that franchises that don’t do this have to deal with. And, after all, for all people are cynical about Toei continuing to milk Adventure or any of the other older series at every opportunity, as far as the kids’ branch of the franchise goes, this is only capable of lasting to a certain extent; if they tried keeping this up too long, even the adults and kids would get bored, and there is some point it’ll be easier to try and make products directly targeted at the kids’ audience instead of having to rely on the parents to ease them into it.

So it’s completely understandable that the moment they secured a proper audience with the reboot and finished up their first series with this, they decided to take the risk with Ghost Game right after. And considering all that’s happened, this is still a risk -- they’re changing up a lot (even if not as much as Appmon), and there’s a chance that the audience they’ve gathered is going to shoot down again because they’ve changed so much and they no longer have the Adventure branding as a “crutch” to use -- but they’re taking it anyway instead of going for something at least slightly more conventional.

Which means that, yes, there’s a possibility this will all explode in their face, because the Adventure branding is that huge of a card they’re about to lose. But at the very, very least, Ghost Game is coming in with the “momentum” and advantage that Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon all didn’t have: a brand currently in the stage of recovery, all of the merchandising and collaborative pipelines the reboot and Kizuna opened up, a fairly good timeslot, and a premise somewhat more conventional than Xros Wars and Appmon (I’m saying this as someone who likes both: their marketing definitely did not do them many favors). There are still a lot of risks it’s playing here, and it’s possible it won’t be the end of more Adventure or reboot brand usage to try to keep that momentum up even as we go into Ghost Game, but it’s the first time in a long while we’ve had something to stand on.

Okay, so that’s out of the way. But the end result is that we now have 67 episodes of an Adventure “reboot” that actually doesn’t even resemble Adventure that much at all, which seems to have achieved its goal of flagging down attention so it can finally going back to trying new things. This series exists, we can’t do anything about the fact it exists, the period where its own financial performance actually mattered is coming to an end anyway, and we, as a fanbase of adults hanging out on the Internet keeping up with the franchise as a whole, have to figure out how each of us feels about this. So what of it?

About the contents of the reboot itself

One thing I feel hasn’t been brought up as a potential topic very much (or, at least, not as much as I feel like it probably should be) is that the reboot seems to be actively aimed at a younger target audience than the original Adventure. It hasn’t been stated outright, but we actually have quite a bit of evidence pointing towards this.

Let’s take a moment and discuss what it even means to have a different target audience. When you’re a kid, even one or two years’ difference is a big deal, and while things vary from kid to kid, generally speaking, it helps to have an idea of what your “overall goal” is when targeting a certain age group, since at some point you have to approximate the interests of some thousands of children. Traditionally, Digimon has been aimed at preteens (10-11 year olds); of course, many will testify to having seen the series at a younger age than that, but the "main” intended target demographic was in this arena. (Also, keep in mind that this is an average; a show aimed at 10-11 year olds could be said to be more broadly aimed at 7-13 year olds, whereas one aimed at 7-8 year olds would be more broadly aimed at something like 5-10 year olds.) Let’s talk a bit about what distinguishes children’s shows (especially Japanese kids’ shows) between this “preteen demographic” and things aimed at a much younger audience (which I’ll call “young child demographic”, something like the 7-8 year old arena):

With children who are sufficiently young, it’s much, much more difficult to ensure that a child of that age will be able to consistently watch TV at the same hour every week instead of being subject to more variable schedules, often set by their parents, meaning that it becomes much more difficult to have a series that relies on you having seen almost every episode to know what’s going on. For somewhat older kids, they’re more likely to be able to pick and pursue their own preferences (the usual “got up early every week for this show”). This means that shows targeted at a young child demographic will be more likely to be episodic, or at least not have a complex dramatic narrative that requires following the full story, whereas shows targeted at a preteen audience are more willing to have a dramatic narrative with higher complexity. This does not mean by any shake of the imagination that a narrative is incapable of having any kind of depth or nuance -- the reboot’s timeslot predecessor GeGeGe no Kitaro got glowing reviews all over the board for being an episodic story with tons of depth -- nor that characters can’t slowly develop over the course of the show. But it does raise the bar significantly, especially because it prevents you from making episodes that require you to know what happened in previous ones.

The thing is, the original Adventure and the older Digimon series in general didn’t have to worry about this, and, beyond the fact that their narratives very obviously were not episodic, we actually have concrete evidence of the disparity: Digimon has often been said to be a franchise for “the kids who graduated from (outgrew) a certain other monster series”. Obviously, they’re referring to Pokémon -- which does have the much younger target demographic. That’s why its anime is significantly more episodic and less overall plot-oriented, and Digimon wasn’t entirely meant to be a direct competitor to it; rather, it was hoping to pick up the preteens who’d enjoyed Pokémon at a younger age but were now looking for something more catered to them. This is also why, when Yo-kai Watch came into the game in 2014, that was considered such a huge direct competitor to Pokémon, because it was aiming for that exact same demographic, complete with episodic anime. When Yo-kai Watch moved to its Shadowside branch in 2017, it was specifically because they had concerns about losing audience and wanted to appeal to the kids who had been watching the original series, but since they were preteens now, they adopted a more dramatic and emotionally complex narrative that would appeal to that audience instead. So you can actually see the shift in attempted target demographic in real time.

Adventure through Frontier were aimed at 10-11 year olds, and here’s the interesting part: those series had the protagonists hover around the age of said target audience. We actually have it on record that Frontier had a direct attempt to keep most of the kids as fifth-graders for the sake of appealing to the audience, and so that it would be relatable to them. You can also see this policy of “matching the target audience’s age” in other series at the time; Digimon’s sister series Ojamajo Doremi (also produced by Seki) centered around eight-year-olds. Nor was Seki the only one to do this; stepping outside Toei for a bit, Medabots/Medarot had its protagonist Ikki be ten years old, much like Digimon protagonists, and the narrative was similarly dramatic. The thing is, that’s not how it usually works, and that’s especially not really been how it’s worked for the majority of kids’ series since the mid-2000s. In general, and especially now, it’s usually common to have the protagonists of children’s media be slightly older than the target age group. This has a lot of reasons behind it -- partially because kids are looking to have slightly older characters as a model for what to follow in their immediate future, and partially because “the things you want to teach the kids” are often more realistically reflected if the kids on screen have the right level of independence and capacity for emotional contemplation. Case in point: while everyone agrees the Adventure through Frontier characters are quite relatable, it’s a common criticism that the level of emotional insight sometimes pushes the boundary of what’s actually believable for 10-11 year olds...

...which is presumably why, with the exception of this reboot, every Digimon TV series since, as of this writing, started shifting to middle school students. That doesn’t mean they’re aiming the series at middle school kids now, especially because real-life 13-15 year olds are usually at the stage where they pretend they’ve outgrown kids’ shows (after all, that’s why there’s a whole term for “middle school second year syndrome”), but more that the narrative that they want to tell is best reflected by kids of that age, especially when we’re talking characters meant to represent children from the real world and not near-immortal youkai like Kitaro. In fact, the Appmon staff outright said that Haru was placed in middle school because the story needed that level of independence and emotional sensitivity, which is interesting to consider in light of the fact that Appmon’s emotional drama is basically on par with that of Adventure through Frontier’s. So in other words, the kind of high-level drama endemic to Adventure through Frontier is would actually normally be more on par with what you’d expect for kids of Haru’s age.

But at this point, the franchise is at a point of desperation, and you can see that, as I said earlier, Appmon was blatantly trying to be one of those “have its cake and eat it too” series by having possibly one of the franchise’s most dramatic storylines while also having some of the most unsubtle catchphrases and bright colors it has to offer. Moreover, one thing you might notice if you look closely at Appmon: most of its episodes are self-contained. Only a very small handful of episodes are actively dependent on understanding what happened in prior episodes to understand the conflict going on in the current one -- it’s just very cleverly structured in a way you don’t really notice this as easily. So as you can see, the more desperate the franchise has gotten to get its kids’ audience back, the more it has to be able to grab the younger demographic and not lock them out as much as possible -- which means that it has to do things that the original series didn’t have to worry about at all.

Having seen the reboot myself, I can say that it checks off a lot of what you might expect if you tried to repurpose something based on Adventure (and only vaguely based on it, really) into a more episodic story that doesn’t require you to follow the whole thing, and that it has to break down its story into easy-to-follow bits. In fact, there were times where I actually felt like it gave me the vibes of an educational show that would usually be expected for this demographic, such as repeated use of slogans or fun catchphrases for young kids to join in on. That alone means that even if the “base premise” is similar to the original Adventure, this already necessitates a lot of things that have to be very different, because Adventure really cannot be called episodic no matter how you slice it.

Not only that, even though the target audience consideration has yet to be outright stated, we also have interviews on hand that made it very clear, from the very beginning, what their goals with the reboot were: they wanted the kids to be able to enjoy a story of otherworldly exploration during the pandemic, they wanted cool action sequences, and they wanted to get the adults curious about what might be different from the original. Note that last part: they actively wanted this series to be different from the original, because the differences would engage parents in spotting the differences, and the third episode practically even goes out of its way to lay that message down by taking the kids to a familiar summer camp, only to have it pass without incident and go “ha, you thought, but nope!” Moreover -- this is the key part -- “surprising” people who were coming from the original series was a deliberate goal they had from the very beginning. They’ve stated this outright -- they knew older fans were watching this! They were not remotely shy about stating that they wanted to surprise returning viewers with unexpected things! They even implied that they wanted it to be a fun experience for older watchers to see what was different and what wasn’t -- basically, it’s a new show for their kids who never saw the original Adventure, while the parents are entertained by a very different take on something that seems ostensibly familiar. 

On top of that, the head writer directly cited V-Tamer as an influence -- and if you know anything about V-Tamer, it’s really not that much of a character narrative compared to what we usually know of Digimon anime, and is mostly known for its battle tactics and action sequences (but in manga form). In other words, we have a Digimon anime series that, from day one, was deliberately made to have a writing philosophy and goal that was absolutely not intended to be like Adventure -- or any Digimon TV anime up to this point -- in any way. And that’s a huge shock for us as veterans, who have developed our tastes and expectations based on up to seven series of Digimon that were absolutely not like this at all. But for all it's worth, the circumstances surrounding its production and intent don't seem to quite line up with what the most common accusations against it are:

That it’s a rehash of Adventure: It really isn’t. It’s also blatantly apparent it has no intention of being so. The points that are in common: the character names and rough character designs, some very minimal profile details for said characters, Devimon having any particular foil position to Angemon, the use of Crests to represent personal growth, the premise of being in the Digital World and...that’s it! Once those points are aside, it’s really hard to say that the series resembles Adventure any more than Frontier or Xros Wars resembles Adventure (which are also “trapped in another world” narratives) -- actually, there are times the series resembles those two more than the original Adventure, which many have been quick to point out. The majority of things you can make any kind of comparison to basically drop off by the end of the first quarter or so, and trying to force a correlation is basically just that: you’d have to try forcing the comparison. The plot, writing style, and even the lineup of enemies shown just go in a completely different direction after that. So in the end, the base similarities can be said to be a marketing thing; if I want to criticize this series, I don’t think “lack of creativity” would actually be something I would criticize it for. (Of course, you’re still welcome to not be a huge fan of how they’re still guilty of using Adventure’s name value to market something that is not actually Adventure. We’re all gonna have mixed feelings on that one.)

That they don’t understand or remember Adventure’s appeal: Unlikely. All of the main staff has worked on character-based narratives before, which have been very well-praised while we’re at it. The producer, Sakurada Hiroyuki, was an assistant producer on the original series, and I would like to believe he probably remembers at least a thing or two about what they were doing with the original series...but, also, he’s the producer of Xros Wars, which definitely had its own individuality and style, and, moreover, was more of a character narrative that people generally tend to expect from Digimon anime. (Still a bit unconventional, and it has its own questions of personal taste, but a lot of people have also pointed out that this reboot has a lot in common with Xros Wars in terms of its writing tone and its emphasis on developing Digital World resident Digimon moreso than the human characters.) All signs point to the idea they could make a character narrative like Adventure if they really wanted to. It’s just, they don’t want to do that with this reboot, so they didn’t.

That they misinterpreted or misremembered the Adventure characters: There’s been accusations of said characters being written in a way that implies misinterpretation or lack of understanding of the original characters, but the thing is, while I definitely agree they have nowhere near the depth of the original ones, there are points that seem to be deliberate changes. (At some points, they’re actually opposites of the original, and certain things that operate as some very obscure references -- for instance, Sora complaining about having to sit in seiza -- seem to also be deliberate statements of going in a different direction.) The lack of human character depth or backstory doesn’t seem to be out of negligence, but rather that this story doesn’t want to be a character narrative to begin with -- after all, we’re used to seven series of Digimon that are, but there are many, many kids’ anime, or even stories in general, where the story is more about plot or action than it is completely unpacking all of its characters’ heads. In this case, this reboot does seem to have characters that are taking cues from or are “inspired by” the original, but, after all, it’s an alternate universe and has no obligation to adhere to the original characters’ backgrounds, so it stands to reason that it’d take liberties whenever it wanted. (Again, the head writer outright stated that he based the reboot’s Taichi more on V-Tamer Taichi than the original Adventure anime Taichi. He knows there’s a difference!) Even more intriguingly, the series actually avoids certain things that are common misconceptions or pigeonholes that would normally be done by the mainstream -- for instance, the Crest of Light (infamously one of the more abstract ones in the narrative) is fully consistent with Adventure’s definition of it as “the power of life”, and, if I dare say so myself, Koushirou’s characterization (emphasizing his relationship with “knowledge” and his natural shyness) arguably resembles the original far more than most common fan reductions of his character that overemphasize his computer skills over his personal aptitude. In other words, I think the staff does know what happened in the original Adventure -- they just actively don’t want to do what Adventure did, even if it’s ostensibly a reboot.

That it’s soulless or that there’s no passion in its creation: Well, this is subjective, and in the end I’m not a member of the staff to tell you anything for sure, but there are definitely a lot of things in this anime that don’t seem like they’d be the byproduct of uninspired creation or lack of passion. It’s just that those things are all not the kinds of things that we, as Digimon veterans, have come to develop a taste for and appreciate in Digimon anime. That is to say, there is an incredible amount of thought and detail put into representing Digimon null canon (i.e. representing special attacks and mechanics), the action sequences are shockingly well-animated in ways that put most prior Digimon anime to shame, and the series has practically been making an obvious attempt to show off as many Digimon (creatures) that haven’t traditionally gotten good franchise representation as they can. Or sometimes really obscure “meta fanservice” references that only make sense to the really, really, really, really hardcore longtime Digimon fan (for instance, having an episode centered around Takeru and Opossummon, because Takeru’s voice actress Han Megumi voiced Airu in Xros Wars). If you follow any of the animators on Twitter, they seem to be really actively proud of their work on it, and franchise creators Volcano Ota and Watanabe Kenji seem to be enjoying themselves every week...so basically, we definitely have creators passionate about having fun with this, it’s just that all of it is being channeled here, not the character writing.

So in the end, you can basically see that this series is basically the epitome of desperately pulling out all of the stops to make sure this series lands with the actual target demographic of children, dammit, and gets them into appreciating how cool these fighting monsters are and how cool it would be if they stuck with them even into a series that’s not Adventure. The Adventure branding and names to lure in the parents, the straightforward and easy-to-understand action-oriented narrative so that kids will think everything is awesome and that they’ll like it even when the story changes, and the merchandise and collab events booked everywhere so that they can all be reused for the next series too...because, remember, they failed with that during Savers, Xros Wars, and Appmon (I mean, goodness, you kind of have to admire their persistence, because a ton of other kids’ franchises failing this many times would have given up by now), so it’s a bit unsurprising that they went all the way to get the kids’ attention at the expense of a lot of things that would attract veterans, especially since the veterans already have a well-developed adults’ pipeline to cater to them. This does also mean that this series is more likely to come off as a 67-episode toy commercial than any previous Digimon series, but it’s not even really the toys as much as they’re trying to sell the entire franchise and the actual monsters in the hopes that they’ll stick with it even when the narrative changes.

Nevertheless, here we are. The series is over. Ghost Game -- which, as of this writing, is looking to be much more of a conventional Digimon narrative, complete with older cast, obviously more dramatic atmosphere, and pretty much everything surrounding its PR -- is on its way, presumably thanks to the success of this endeavor. It’s hard to gauge it; we have it on record that they also intend it to be episodic, but remember that this doesn’t necessarily prevent it from having an overall dramatic plot or nuanced drama (especially since the abovementioned Appmon and Kitaro were perfectly capable of pulling off this balance). Nevertheless, it seems to be a lot more of the conventional kind of Digimon narrative we usually expect, so, as for us, adult long-time fans of the Digimon franchise (many of whom don’t have kids anyway), what exactly should we make of this? Well, as far as “supporting the franchise” goes, you’ll get much more progress supporting Ghost Game than the reboot; I highly doubt view counts and merch sales relative to an already-finished series will do nearly as much for the franchise’s health as much as the currently airing series, and, besides, it’d probably do us all a favor to support the endeavor that’s actually new and fresh. So when it comes to a “past” series like this, it’s all just going to come down to a question of personal preference and taste: is this a series you, personally, want to watch, and would you find it entertaining?

For some of you, it’s possible that it just won’t be your cup of tea at all -- and since, like I said, the majority of us here have based our expectations and preferences on up to seven series of Digimon that were not like this, that’s also perfectly fine, and in that case I don’t actually recommend you watch this. Of course, I’ve never thought that it was ever fair to expect a Digimon fan to have seen all of the series released to date; the more series we get, the more inhumane of a demand that’ll become, and I think this franchise becoming successful enough to have so many series that most people won’t have seen it all is a good thing. (It’s actually kind of alarming that the percentage of people who have seen it all is so high, because it means the franchise has failed to get much of an audience beyond comparatively hardcore people who committed to it all the way.) But I think, especially in this case, with a series for which adult fans like us were probably lowest on the priority list due to the sheer amount of desperation going on here, it’s fine to skip it, and if you’re someone who lives by a need for character depth or emotionally riveting narrative, the fact this series is (very unabashedly and unashamedly) mostly comprised of episodic stories and action sequences means you won’t have missed much and probably won’t feel too left out of any conversations going forward. That’s before we even get into the part where it’s still completely understandable to potentially have mixed feelings or resentment about the overuse of the Adventure brand for something like this, especially if Adventure is a particularly important series to you.

But for some of you out there, it might still be something you can enjoy on its own merits. I’ve seen people who were disappointed by the limited degree of Digimon action sequences in the past or the fact that the series has gotten overly fixated on humans, and had an absolute ball with the reboot because it finally got to represent parts of the franchise they felt hadn’t been shown off as well. “Fun” is a perfectly valid reason to enjoy something. It’s also perfectly possible to be someone who can enjoy character narratives like the prior Digimon series but also enjoy something that’s more for being outlandish and fun and has cool Digital World concepts and visuals -- and, like I said, it does not let up on that latter aspect at all, so there’s actually potential for a huge feast in that regard. I think as long as you don’t expect it to be a character narrative like Adventure -- which will only set you up for disappointment, because it’s not (and made very clear since even the earliest episodes and interviews that it had no intention of being one) -- it’s very possible to enjoy it for what it is, and for what it does uniquely.

[gamer-logic]

Since my state, Georgia, is having the annual Peaches to Beaches event which is two days of statewide yard sales, I thought it would be interesting to show how America, the states, and any other countries wanting to participate both 1p and 2p would be during this event. So here you go!

Georgia is happily selling fresh produce like boiled peanuts and Vidalia onions and peach-based deserts. Her homemade peach cobbler and ice cream are to die for!

Antonio (Spain) also sells many fresh tomatoes, olives, and other vegetables. He doesn't understand why no one wants his Olive Juice though.

Hawaii and Alaska make a killing selling lemonade at their stand with a free complimentary handmade flower crown with every purchase. While using their sheer cuteness to attract everyone including one of those sweet biker gangs. It's really surreal to see a huge gang of buff, tattooed, tough-looking guys in leather wearing flower crowns and drinking lemonade. Allen's also there to supervise and ward of creep. Also, to provide people more 'incentive' to buy their lemonade.

Texas breaks out the Texas BBQ and is in a Barbecuing turf war with Jett (Australia). They draw huge crowds for the five-alarm chili as well and hold a competition who can eat the most without burning out their tongues and/or passing out.

Florida sells some of the weirdest stuff you'll ever see. "Want a full-scale model of a gator made entirely out of bottle caps? Only ten bucks! Want a portrait of Florida Man painted with orange juice? 15 bucks!"

Nevada also tries to sell weird and sketchy stuff to scam everyone. "This piece is the genuine article folks! One napkin gently used by Elvis Presley himself! Just 500 bucks! Also, gets into a haggling war with Lars (Netherlands). Somewhere Alfred's dad instincts go off and he reminds himself to ground Nevada.

California, Oregon, and Washington collaborate and California sells anything vegan or made with avocadoes and the autographs of Hollywood stars, Oregon sells his old tye-dyed shirts and records, they also made him sell his old groovy hippy bus from the sixties he'd never got rid of no one knew they had. Oregon can be a bit of a hoarder, so they had to tie him to a chair and gag him because he wouldn't surrender the bus without a fight. Washington also tries to sell and drink cups of coffee, but in the hot Southern heat, this doesn't end well.

Louisiana sells anything Cajun-style from frog legs to fresh gumbo, to beignets. Also has a full collection of Mardi Gras masks and shrunken voodoo heads on sale for two bucks a pop.

Gilbert (Prussia) gets tricked by Nevada and gets a ton of stupid things he doesn't need. Ludwig (Germany) tries unsuccessfully to keep him on a metaphorical leash.

Ludwig always checks the quality of things he sees and buys dog toys and supplies for Blackie, Berlitz, and Astor. Later, he actually buys a kiddie leash for Gilbert.

All the while Lutz (2p! Germany) is asleep in a lawn chair with his hat on his face after drinking like six cold beers from this really good booth. All the while, Klaus (2p! Prussia) finds an antique Teutonic Knights flag from a vendor whose family was from Germany.

Vash (Switzerland) buys antique guns from Alabama and Roderich (Austria) also checks out some of Tennessee's guitars. He's horrified upon seeing Alabama's banjo and washboard.

Mathew (Canada) and Emma (Belgium) combine their powers and tag team to sell the best pancakes and waffles on earth with genuine Canadian maple syrup.

New York sells tons of baseball memorabilia and collectibles. Allen, trying to save his bad-boy image, tries to be discreet when buying some while taking Hawaii and Alaska around to get something with their lemonade money. James also gets some hockey memorabilia with Michigan and Minnesota who also got snow cones.

Alaska and Hawaii see a giant deluxe dollhouse but are almost in tears when they don't have enough money. But they end up getting it for free because no one can resist their weaponized puppy dog eyes. Also, no one can resist a growling Allen. Using the leftover money, they buy cute little rainbow umbrella hats for everyone and have Allen wear one who begrudgingly accepts it.

James, walking by with an armful hockey gear and flannel shirts, bursts out laughing when he sees this. In revenge, Allen forces him to wear one too and help him carry the dollhouse, much to Hawaii and Alaska's delight! "I said go my way puck head!" "No, it's my way, you vegan loving hoser!" A passing Francis (France)' is in stylish horror when they also make him and a nonchalant Luis (2p! France), holding a case of vintage wines, wear them too. Hawaii and Alaska go around giving umbrella hats to everyone including a sleeping Lutz they pass by.

Loving (Romano) practically has to supervise Feliciano (Italy) and keep him from buying anything too stupid on impulse or get scammed. They still end up with stacks upon stacks of cookbooks, kitchen wear, and a Mona Lisa made entirely out of Macaroni. They also get umbrella hats.

Flavio (2p! Romano) browses through clothing racks to get ideas for his vintage line. Also checks out the handmade fabrics like quilts. "Such craftsmanship! This pattern is so unique and chic! I simply must have it! What's your price Bella?" The nice old woman selling the quilt just smiles, "Oh just about five dollars young man." "Perfect!" Flavio hands the quilts off to Andreas (2p! Spain) who's practically buried underneath the fabric. Luciano (2p! Italy) facepalms while holding a new knife set in its case. "Oooh! Look at those adorable hats I just have to have one." Cue three more umbrella hats and a humiliated Luciano. "Just kill me now..."

Katyusha (Ukraine), Elizaveta (Hungary), Lillie (Liechtenstein), Natalya, (Belarus), Katya( 2p! Ukraine) and Anastasia (2p! Belarus), and Michelle (Seychelles) explore with armfuls of clothes, new ribbons, and a gun case for Switzerland (Lillie), cast iron frying pans (Elizaveta, watch out Prussia!), farm tools (Katyusha), Jewelry and unmentionables (Katya), dresses (Anastasia), an assortment of switchblades (Natalya), and one of those singing fish on a plague (Michelle). It's definitely an interesting group.

Kiku (Japan) and Kuro (2p! Japan) find a nerd booth selling comics, manga, and Japanese weapons like katanas. Kuro test swings a blade and tries to slice the table so hard it breaks the blade, "Hmmm, not sharp enough for me, got anything else?" He throws it on the pile of broken blades he's already tested. Kiku stockpiles on limited-edition manga and he and the vendor end up getting into a huge, heated by Kiku standards, debate on who's waifu is best. Further down, Alfred reads every Marvel/DC comic while keeping an ear out on every state's location. He checks on Texas via his glasses and notices he's beating Australia in the chili contest. "That's my boy!"

Wisconsin wearing a cheese head sells anything cheese-based. He's got cheddar, goat cheese, string cheese, cheese spray, gorgonzola, grilled cheese, cheese curds, Mac n' Cheese, cheese sculptures of all world monuments, you name it he's got it! He also starts a war with Iowa's corn dishes and Idaho's potato dishes. They eventually end up flinging cheese, potatoes, and corn after they start dissing each other's foods. "Take this cheese brain!" "Nice aim, I-da-ho!" "I told you not to call me that!" "I'm gonna go children of the corn on y'all's behinds!" Poor Nebraska is stuck in the middle.

Alfred (America) hears the commotion and using his parent radar, immediately knows who it is and reminds himself to ground Iowa, Wisconsin, and Idaho later along with Nevada who, though still grounded for sure, makes him feel a little proud of since he managed to out haggle Netherlands.

New Mexico and Arizona also sell Native American handicrafts along with things like dreamcatchers and giant inflatable aliens. While Delaware, being the boring stick in the mud that he is, walks by with a framed and complete U.S. quarter collection from a vendor.

Kansas sells out of every sunflower she had courtesy of Ivan (Russia). Ivan and her the team up to buy out every sunflower seed from here to kingdom come. Viktor (2p! Russia) buys all the vodka he can find and a new shovel while Xiao (2p! China) tries giving people tattoos for 10 bucks a pop.

He tries to convince Yao (China) to get a hello kitty one to match the giant plushie he's holding, with the encouragement of Leon (Hong Kong) and Yong Soo (South Korea) who all collectively agree he needs to quit being such a grandpa. They also like calling him an antique-like the items on sale. " Aiyah! I'm not that old, aru!" "Yeah, you are Sensei." "Don't deny it! Da Ze!" Respect your elders!" "Tattoos originated in Korea da ze!" He totally is that old.

Oliver (2p! England) holds a bake sale and has people lined up for blocks to get some. Arthur (England), after having his scones shut down after it poisoned some unlucky squirrels, fries selling authentic magical items like unicorn hair or pixie dust. Everyone thinks he's a little crazy but he did sell a good bit of old magic books he needed to get out of his house, after making sure no one could actually use them of course.

The Nordics also went perusing for antique and handmade furniture when Mathias (Denmark) spots two full sets of Viking costumes and tries to get Lukas (Norway) to try them on with him. Lukas wasn't amused.

Berwald (Sweden) and Tino (Finland) also find a great handmade table to get after inspecting the workmanship and a full Lego set for Peter (Sealand), now if only Mathias would stop squealing like a little kid at the full piece lego death star. Emil (Iceland) keeps thinking he's the mature one until he spots a mini top hat and cane for Mr. Puffin.

In the end, everyone ends up wearing umbrella hats courtesy of Hawaii and Alaska, loving all the strange things they bought or counting the profits they made. Alfred (America) is proud of his kids and visits everyone one of their stands. He ends up looking pretty funny with an umbrella hat (HW, AK), a washboard, (AL),a picture of Florida Man, (FL), a balloon alien (NM, AZ), a tye dye shirt (CA, WA, OR), hockey stick shaped glasses (MN, MI), a giant stack of comics with a replica Thor hammer and Captain America shield on his back, all in a shopping cart (NV), and a giant turkey leg in his hand (Tx). Unsurprisingly, it was a tie between Oliver, Texas, and Australia for who earned the most with their food. Georgia just smiled as this was another great year for her state and people!

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 23

31: We have to let go

Last time, Belle and Gold made the final preparations for their baby, and Belle sought a reconciliation with her father. Here’s what happened next.

[AO3]

x

Gold pushed the jeweller’s glass into his eye socket, peering at the tiny cog on the square of black velvet. He reached for the pair of steel tweezers by its side, carefully picking up the cog and transferring it to the silver music box that lay open in front of him. He had been working on it whenever he had a spare moment whilst in Storybrooke, though in truth there had been little opportunity since he had effectively moved to Boston. Belle had not returned from visiting her father, and in order to distract himself from thoughts of marching over there to make sure she was alright, he had decided to concentrate on the music box. Over the past six weeks or so he had cleaned the mechanism, replaced the bent and broken pieces, and carefully and methodically put every piece in its place. This was among the last of them.

The sound of the shop doorbell made him glance up, and he shook his head, turning back to his work.

“A moment,” he called. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“It’s okay, it’s only me.”

Belle’s voice made him smile, and he put down the tweezers, removing the glass from his eye socket and turning on the stool to face her as she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the back room. She looked a little strained around the eyes, but she was smiling.

“How did it go?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

“That was going to be my question.”

“Oh…” Belle sighed, flopping down on the cot. “Okay, I guess. He apologised. Kind of. We talked. He’s not happy about you being in my life, but I told him he’ll have to get used to it.”

“Hmm.” Gold ran a hand through his hair. “Christmas will be fun.”

“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Her tone was very dry, and it made him grin, even as he shuddered internally at the thought of having to spend the festive season with Moe French.

“The shop’s doing okay,” she went on. “I had a quick look through the accounts. He’s got a few weddings this month, which is always good for business. Keeps complaining about not having the time to do anything else, so I’ve tried to convince him to get some help in.”

“You think that’s likely?” he asked. “He always managed by himself before you helped him out. I presumed he’d do the same after you left.”

“Yeah, but I think he needs to,” she said. “Just a few hours. Maybe get one of the school seniors to help at weekends, or something. They could cover the shop while he does the wedding arrangements.”

“Well, perhaps he’ll take your advice,” said Gold, and Belle pulled a face.

“He doesn’t look too well,” she said then. “Says he’s been very tired recently. I told him to go to the doctor, but you know how he is.”

“You think it’s something serious?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“He’s overweight, diabetic, high blood pressure - I just worry his heart is gonna give out one day,” she said. “It’s not as though he looks after himself. The shop keeps him active, I suppose, but I bet he’s still drinking too much and avoiding veggies like they’re poison.”

“Well, you can only suggest a course of action,” he said. “It’s up to him to take it.”

“I know.”

She looked gloomy, and he tried to steer her away from talk of her father’s ill health.

“What did he say about the baby?” he asked.

“Asked when it was due, if I had everything I needed…” Belle put a hand to the small of her back. “He says he’ll visit when the baby’s born.”

“Great.”

It was said under his breath, and he winced at the reluctant tone of his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you wanted to make things up with him. I’m happy for you, really. Don’t listen to my complaining.”

“Can I have that in writing?” She looked amused, and he smiled.

“You know how I feel about formalising agreements.”

“Well, I’d hate to hold you to a promise you can’t keep,” she teased. “How about you buy me dinner tonight and we call it even?”

“That sounds like a deal I couldn’t possibly refuse,” he said. “Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so.” She peered at the bench behind him. “What are you working on?”

“Oh - it’s a music box,” he said. “I’ve been restoring it for some time now. Almost finished.”

“Oh.” She heaved a breath, letting her shoulders drop as she let out a sigh. “You can finish it, if you like. I don’t mind waiting.”

Gold hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the music box.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be here next week, after all. Gives me something to do in between dealing with business matters.”

She smiled, and he pushed to his feet, carefully putting the remaining pieces of the music box into a small pot and rolling up the square of black velvet. Belle was chewing her lip, staring off into the distance, and he folded his hands over the cane handle, looking at her.

“We can always stay another night, if you’re worried about him,” he said. “I could - uh - make dinner. You could invite him round. If you like.”

Belle glanced around at that, and the way her eyes lit up made him forget about any distaste he felt at the idea of spending an evening with Moe French.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, her tone warm. “But I think we’ll take things one step at a time. I still haven’t talked to him about all those ridiculous lies he told you about me and Gaston.”

“Ah.” Gold wanted to scowl at the memory, but he kept his face neutral.

“Not sure I will,” she added. “At least not right now. I don’t think I have the energy.”

“Fair enough.”

“How did things go with Dr Hopper?” she asked, and he blew out his cheeks, huffing air.

“We’re making progress,” he said. “Slow, but progress all the same.”

"Good."

"The fact that it's slow is my fault, not his," he added, and she gave him a patient look.

"It's no one's fault," she said gently. "It's just a process, and it takes as long as it takes."

"Yeah." He sighed the word, looking at the floor. "I suppose there are no quick fixes, are there?"

"Exactly," she said. "So no giving yourself a hard time because you're not magically fixed after a few sessions, okay?"

"Okay." He looked up again and smiled at her. "Dr Hopper says the same. And the sessions are going about as well as could be expected, in the circumstances. So that's something."

“Well, that’s good.” Belle stood, shouldering her bag and rolling her shoulders. “You want to tell me about it in the car? I think I want to get home.”

“Of course.”

Gold took off the apron he was wearing and went to the small bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned Belle was peering at the music box with a tiny smile on her face.

“It’s so pretty,” she said. “What tune does it play?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Is it for sale?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “We’ll see how it sounds. Maybe we can play it to the baby, get him to fall asleep.”

Belle straightened up, beaming at him.

“You think it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “That was a slip of the tongue. Honestly, I’d be happy with anything as long as it’s human.”

He grinned at her, and Belle bit her lip, looking amused.

“I think we can guarantee it’ll be human.”

“The rest of Storybrooke may question that, given that I’m the father,” he remarked dryly.

“Well, the rest of Storybrooke can kiss my arse, then,” she said, and Gold burst out laughing, reaching out to take her hand and pull her close.

“Oh, I’m not sharing that pleasure with anyone,” he murmured, and bent his head to kiss her.

x

Belle found that she grew nervous as April wore on and the time for the baby to be born drew nearer. She told herself it was fear of the unknown; no matter how many books she read or videos she watched on the birthing process, she felt that she knew nothing at all. Emma had been wonderful, patiently talking her through every minute of her labour with Henry, but Belle was well aware that Emma’s experience would not necessarily be her own. It didn't help that she was now extremely uncomfortable; the baby had moved, head down towards her pelvis, and she had been suffering from an ever-present backache and an overwhelming need to run to the bathroom. It reminded her that the baby would soon be outside of her, and that she would need to endure a lot of pain for that to happen. She told herself that women had been giving birth for thousands of years, and there was no reason she should find it any more difficult than they had, but she had made the mistake of reading about everything that could possibly go wrong in childbirth. It hadn't helped her nerves. At least her hospital bag was packed and ready to go. It sat in the hallway of the apartment and made her anxious every time she passed it.

She had expected Gold to be as nervous as she, given his past pain and the loss of his son, but he was surprisingly calm, and talked her down from a minor panic attack with soothing words and a bubble bath. He got in with her, sitting at the opposite end with his knees poking up through the fragrant bubbles, the hot water making his skin flush a little. Belle let him take her foot and start to massage it.

“Sorry I seem to be losing it,” she said, as she lay back. “How are you being so calm? We’re gonna be parents in like a fortnight!”

Gold grinned, his eyes soft, but still with that glint in them that she loved. His thumb worked magic circles on the ball of her foot, and she heaved a sigh, trying to relax.

“Yes, and I can’t wait,” he said. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, but - mostly nervous,” she said. “I know it’ll hurt, but - but what if I can’t bear it?”

“You talked through your pain relief options,” he said. “You can speak to the doctor again, if you think it’ll put your mind at ease.”

“I guess.”

“I have every faith in you,” he added. “And in the medical staff. I know how independent you are, and how hard it can be to rely so completely on others, but in these circumstances, I think we both have to trust that they know better than we do. We have to let go.”

“Yeah.”

Belle chewed her lip, running a hand over the curve of her belly.

“I know you’re right,” she added.

“It’s perfectly natural to be nervous the first time,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure next time will be easier.”

“Next time?”

“Ah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing his lower lip up over his teeth. “Forget I said that.”

“Hmm.” She was amused, and poked him with a foot. “Let’s get this one out before we think about the next, okay?”

“Agreed.”

He was grinning at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back, enjoying the easy banter. The fears were still there, whispering at the back of her mind, but she found that talking about them with him was helping.

“What if something goes wrong and they have to cut me open?” she said then.

“Then you’ll need to take things even easier after the birth and leave more to me, that’s what,” he said. “You’ll be in excellent hands. You have the best hospital staff in Boston caring for you and the baby, I promise.”

“I’d have a scar.”

Gold lifted her foot, kissing her toes.

“And it’ll be beautiful.”

“And - and even if I manage to give birth naturally, they’ll probably have to give me stitches,” she added. “That’s gotta hurt, right?”

Gold sighed.

“Look, I can’t pretend to understand your fears or to know what you’re going through,” he said gently. “But you are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I know you’re going to be just fine.”

He resumed the massage, thumb rubbing in slow circles, and Belle sighed, feeling the tension start to drain out of her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just - I’ve been pregnant all this time and it’s like I’ve just realised I actually have to get this person that’s inside me outside. Does that make sense?”

Gold shrugged, grinning.

“I’m not sure I can ever entirely empathise,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for being as helpful as I can.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made yourself useful since you moved in,” she said, poking him with her toes again, and his grin widened.

“Indispensable, I would hope.”

“Absolutely.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Belle giggled a little, and wriggled a little, slipping down in the hot water and letting out a long, heavy sigh as she felt her body soften under the rhythmic sweeps of his thumbs.

“That’s better,” he murmured, moving his hands up to massage her calf. “Just relax.”

“Mm.” Belle watched him through half-closed eyes. “Emma, Neal and Henry are coming over Friday, by the way. Do you think you could make something for dinner? Nothing fancy, just anything I can shove in the oven.”

“I don’t mind cooking while you talk to your friends,” he said absently, and looked up. “Oh, unless you want me to find somewhere else to be, of course.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Of course you could be here. It’s just I thought you’d be in Storybrooke most of the day.”

Gold pulled a face.

“You sure you want me to go?” he asked. “It’s the week before the baby’s due.”

“What about your therapy session?” she asked, and he sighed.

“True,” he allowed. “I suppose I really should try to make that.”

“Do you not want to go?”

Gold hesitated a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just - well, perhaps you’re not the only one who’s a little nervous. Maybe I’m just better at hiding it. I want to be here for you every step of the way, and I worry about leaving you alone for any length of time. Just in case.”

Belle smiled, reaching out to run a hand over his knee.

“It’s only a few hours away,” she pointed out. “And it’s only one day. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, Emma and Neal will be here, it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

He let go of her foot, and she slipped it back under the water as he reached for the other.

“You said your father was planning on coming to Boston,” he said. “Did he say when?”

“No, he said he’d let me settle in with the baby first,” she said. “He asked that I call him when it’s born, but I think he was planning on leaving the visit for a week or two.”

“Will he stay long?”

“I doubt it. He has the shop to run for a start, and unless he gets an assistant in like I suggested, there’s no one to cover. I imagine it’ll only be for a day or two.”

Gold nodded, and she gave him a wry look.

“I think he’s planning on making his own way here,” she added. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask you to go pick him up.”

He grunted at that.

“Good,” he remarked. “The idea of spending four hours in a confined space with Moe French doesn’t fill me with joy, I have to confess.”

“I expect the feeling’s mutual.”

A soft chuckle, and he glanced up at her.

“Don’t know how you put up with us.”

“Well, I’m an extremely patient person.”

“I noticed,” he said, with a wry twist to his mouth. “Far too good for the likes of me.”

Belle pressed her lips together.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t trash talk yourself anymore,” she said sternly, and he inclined his head.

“Work in progress,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“I’ve had years of practice, after all,” he added. “Old habits die hard.”

Belle sat forward, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek. Bubbles ran over her arm, dripping into the bath around them, and she held his eyes with her own.

“You’re a good man,” she said gently. “And you’re going to be a wonderful father. Okay?”

Gold smiled, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I promise you that.”

“That’s all anyone could ask.”

He kissed her fingertips, and she settled back in the warm water with a sigh as he continued his massage. Two weeks until the baby gets here. We’re going to be a family.

x

The clock on the wall ticked slowly. Gold was sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, studying the rug between the shining toes of his shoes. Dr Hopper was waiting patiently for him to speak, and he threaded his fingers together and pulled them apart, a whispery sound of skin against skin.

“So you said the baby was due on May fifth,” said Dr Hopper. “How are you feeling about that?”

“Belle’s nervous,” said Gold, fingers moving restlessly. “I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s anxious about the birth.”

“Well, that’s understandable, given that this is her first child.”

“I know. I’ve tried to tell her that, but I’m not sure I’m helping.”

Dr Hopper scribbled briefly.

“And how do you feel about it?” he asked. Gold shrugged.

“She’s in good hands. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I don’t want to see her in pain, of course.”

“And the baby?”

“The baby will be fine too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Dr Hopper calmly. “You said in our first meeting that you were excited to be a father again. Do you have any other feelings?”

Gold hesitated, ducking his head a little.

“I am excited,” he said eventually. “But there’s this underlying sense of - unease - I suppose.”

“About what?”

“About bringing this child into the world when I couldn’t hold onto the last,” he said, his voice soft. “About whether I’ll fail to protect it. Whether I’ll be - enough.”

“Do you worry that Belle will take it from you?”

“No,” he said, after a pause. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. Not really. Not now I’ve told her how much the thought of it scares me. Belle wouldn’t use my own fears against me like that. She isn’t cruel.”

“Of course not.”

Dr Hopper waited, and Gold ran a hand across the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“It’s more a fear of what may happen in the future,” he said eventually. “That my child will leave and not come back. That I’ll drive him away; something that I say or do will be the last straw, and he’ll leave.”

“I see.” He could hear the sound of Dr Hopper’s pen scratching away. “Is there anything that sets off this train of thought?”

“Not really.” Gold thought for a moment. “Maybe. When I think about Bailey.”

“Your first son?” Dr Hopper nodded slowly. “You said he was two when his mother took him away.”

“Yes.”

“What was it that made her go?”

“I don’t know…” Gold sat back with a sigh. “She was seeing someone else. She was bored with me. I wanted financial and physical stability for our child, and she wanted excitement and - and drama for herself. The two were incompatible. We were incompatible.”

“Was there something specific that you said or did that made her leave?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“So the leaving was her choice.”

“Yes.”

“And your son had no choice in the matter at all,” added Dr Hopper. “Being two.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why do you think it makes you worry about this child leaving?”

Gold hesitated.

“I suppose when you say it like that, it’s ridiculous,” he admitted, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Oh, I find there’s very little that’s completely ridiculous,” he said. “Sometimes the reasons behind someone’s thought patterns may be a little convoluted, but there’s usually some basis in reality. Unfortunately, sometimes our minds focus on the least likely and most painful scenarios that may come from that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” grumbled Gold.

“So if you know that it wasn’t your son’s choice to leave,” said Dr Hopper. “Why do you fear your second child leaving you?”

“Because he never came back.”

Gold snapped his mouth shut, feeling tears prick his eyes, a heavy weight seeming to shift inside him. Dr Hopper was silent, waiting, and he forced himself to speak.

“He never came back,” he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I tried to find him for - for years. I employed private detectives and followed up leads and took out advertisements....” He broke off with a bark of a laugh. “I even went on some of those stupid shows where they try to reunite you with lost loved ones. I thought - I thought even if he didn’t watch them himself, maybe someone who knew him would see, they’d tell him. And - and nothing. He doesn’t want to be found. He - he doesn’t want me to find him.”

“Do you think that’s because of something you did?” Dr Hopper’s tone was careful, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe it was what I didn’t do,” he said. “Milah always said I worked too much. I should have spent more time with him.”

“How much do you think he remembers?” asked Dr Hopper. “Given that he was two.”

“I don’t know…” Gold ran his hands over his face. “Why wouldn’t he look for his father? If she abandoned him, if she left him with Social Services, why wouldn’t he seek me out? All these years I’ve told myself that maybe he had no information to go on, that she told him nothing about me, but maybe that’s not the case. Maybe he chose not to look.”

“I understand how painful those thoughts must be,” said Dr Hopper gently. “Let’s consider your other child for a moment. You worry that you’ll do or say something to make this child leave and not come back.”

“Yes.”

“Some - confrontation, perhaps,” he went on. “I’m assuming you’re looking ahead to when the child is a teenager or a young adult.”

“Yes.”

“Conflict between a parent and child is the most natural thing in the world,” added Dr Hopper, his tone reassuring. “Especially when a child is maturing and starting to make its own choices.”

“I don’t want to be the reason my child leaves,” whispered Gold, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Then how about you and I talk through some ways of communicating that should maximise your chances of avoiding something like that?” he suggested.

“Alright.” Gold nodded. “Yes. Good.”

“You’ll probably find these techniques useful in other relationships,” he added, and Gold gave him a wry smile.

“Good.”

“I’m going to give you some homework to do, as well,” said Dr Hopper. “Recording these unwanted thoughts. There are some worksheets I’d like you to complete. A kind of journal.”

“Alright.” Gold slumped a little in the chair, feeling drained. “It’ll give me something to do while we’re waiting for the baby to arrive.”

x

“So.” Emma slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, folding her arms across the back and eyeing Belle. “Not long now. You have your bag packed and ready?”

“It’s in the hall,” said Belle, sliding the casserole into the oven and closing the door. “You guys want a drink?”

“You sit down, me and Henry are on it,” said Neal. “I’m guessing some sort of tea?”

“Yeah, can I have fennel?” asked Belle, rubbing a hand over her belly. “This little guy’s been kicking so hard it gave me indigestion.”

“Wine for me,” said Emma, and grinned at Belle. “Hey, I can’t wait until the two of us can have a girls’ night. You can leave Gold changing diapers and come out and get wasted.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Belle sat down with a sigh of relief, still rubbing her belly. She had been having odd twinges all day, and it was getting on her nerves.

“I think he’d be in his element, anyway,” she said. “It’s gonna be a new thing for him, having a newborn to care for, but he’s been reading all the books. I think he’ll be great.”

“Wasn’t he around when his son was born?” asked Neal.

“I’m sure he would have been, had he known about it,” she said dryly, and Neal and Emma winced.

“Ouch,” said Emma. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah.” Belle slumped in her chair a little. “I get the feeling that’s not the only issue from his past that he needs to work through.”

“How’s the therapy going?” asked Emma, and Belle wrinkled her nose.

“He seems - less anxious about it,” she said eventually. “I think it took him a while to open up, but that’s no surprise. He’s committed to it, though.”

“Is that where he is now?”

“That’s the reason he went to Storybrooke, but he’s had his session,” said Belle. “I spoke to him this afternoon. He said he had a tenancy issue to sort out and then he’d be on his way back.”

She flinched as another spasm went through her. That one had hurt more than the last. Neal set a cup of fennel tea in front of her and gave Henry his cocoa before pouring two glasses of wine and slipping into the chair next to Emma. He was watching her with a tiny frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You keep wincing.”

“Yeah, just twinges,” said Belle, and Emma looked thoughtful.

“What kind of twinges?”

“Just - I don’t know, I guess the baby’s head is pressing on something. It’s been going on most of the day.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, it does now,” sighed Belle. “Figured it was Braxton Hicks. They’ve been driving me nuts this past month, but this is hurting more.”

“You got any backache?”

“Yeah,” said Belle, pressing a hand to her back. “God, I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“You may get your wish sooner than you think,” said Emma. “Sounds like you could be in early labour.”

“What?” Belle shook her head. “But the baby’s not due until next week.”

“Yeah, but babies don’t always stick to the schedule, and everything you just described could be early labour pains,” said Emma. “How often are you getting the twinges?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe a few times an hour?”

“Hmm.” Emma reached for her glass of wine. “You might want to time them. Could be nothing. Could be something.”

“Is the baby coming?” asked Henry excitedly.

“Maybe, kid.” Emma took a sip of her wine. “Belle, what time’s Alex getting back?”

“I don’t know, he said he’d call when he left.” Belle rubbed at her back, trying to ease the dull ache. “You think I should call him?”

“Not until you need to go to hospital,” said Emma. “If it is early labour you’ve probably got a good few hours before then. The baby probably won’t come until tomorrow.”

“Right.” Belle turned her mug of tea with nervous fingers. “Wow. Is this really it?”

Emma reached over to grasp her hand.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she said firmly. “We can time the contractions, and we’ll stay with you until Gold gets back, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Belle tapped her fingers against the mug restlessly. The dull ache in her lower back was getting worse, and the pain wasn’t helped by her nerves.

“D’you want me to read you a story?” asked Henry. “I always feel better if I get a story.”

Belle smiled at him.

“Thanks Henry, that sounds great.”

“Cool! I’m gonna read you the one about Beauty and the Beast!”

He slipped from the table and ran through to the lounge to get the storybook he carried everywhere. Belle was feeling restless, fingers still tapping, and she pushed to her feet, almost toppling the chair over backwards.

“You okay?” asked Neal.

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered. “I’m just - excuse me a moment.”

She strode from the room, heading for the bathroom. There was wetness between her legs, a sudden rush of fluid. She had taken to wearing pads in the lead-up to her due date, as the literature suggested, and this felt like something that needed attention. A strong cramp went through her, and Belle stopped dead, pressing a hand to her belly with a groan, her heart thumping. How long since the last one? Ten minutes? Less?

“Belle?” Emma had put her head around the kitchen door and was eyeing her curiously. “You okay?”

Belle turned on her toes slowly, trying to steady her breathing as the cramping continued.

“Could you call Alex?” she asked. “I think my waters just broke.”

[alolowrites]

The Helpful Elf

Summary: The Hippity Hop Cat toy is the toy on every kid’s wish list this year, including Eri’s. With the toy flying off the shelves, you desperately ask Mirio, the Helper Elf at Hazuki’s ToyLand, for help. And Mirio doesn’t give up, especially when it comes to you.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone!!! Real life is being a pain right now, but I’m so glad I managed to finish this story right on time! It’s pretty long (for me lol) and it’s my first with Mirio so yay!! I also wrote it for the BNHASanctuary discord server’s winter collab (first time I ever participated in any collab), so I’m very excited about this. I’ll link and share the masterlist once it’s up. I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories :D 

Please enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5K+

With October long gone and December in full swing, it meant one thing—the official start of the jubilant holiday season. Every year, Japan’s most iconic department store in Tokyo, Hazuki’s, transformed its ten floors into a magical winter wonderland. Around the country and around the globe, customers ushered through the doors to catch a glimpse of the glamorous store glittering with festive decor. 

Dazzling lights twinkled around the window displays that stretched around the block. Vibrant ornaments hung high above the ceilings like luxurious bubbles. And pine garlands peppered with red berries wrapped themselves along any rails that ran off forever. 

Hazuki’s was the place to kick start the holiday season and the one place to find everything and anything on one’s holiday shopping list. Especially the highly coveted toy of the year—the Hippity Hop Cat. 

Or so you thought. 

“Mirio!” 

“Huh?” Said man’s elf hat jingled when he looked away from his display. His blue eyes beamed at the sight of you. Mirio chirped out your name as you rushed forward, nearly knocking him over. “Whoa, you alright?” 

“I need your help,” you blurted out, catching your breath at the same time; those pesky escalators were no use at all. Mirio offered to get water, but you waved him off. “No, no…no time for water. I need your help. It’s urgent!” 

“Uh, sure, what can I do?” 

“I need a toy, but not just any toy.” Mirio blinked when you suddenly inched closer to him. You scanned the area as though someone was lurking around to eavesdrop on your top-secret conversation. “It’s the Hippity Hop Cat, you know—” 

“The cat whose hops are out of this world?” 

“Yes, that one!” You clung to his shoulders like a desperate parent trying to find some shred of sanity in this chaotic store. Shaking the blonde man, you begged, “Please tell me you have one in stock?”

“Oh man,” Mirio scratched his forehead as he recalled the inventory from this morning. He glanced at your hopeless eyes and tight fists curling on his work uniform. There was no way Mirio could leave you hanging like this; it didn’t feel right. So he flashed you his famous smile that outshone the star twirling above you both. “Come with me. I’ll check in our system.”

“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver.” 

Mirio humbly rubbed his neck as he led the way to the backroom. You eyed the uproarious floor covered with thousands of toys that rivaled Santa’s Workshop in the North Pole. It was like walking through a child’s dream. Every toy imaginable—dolls, electric cars, robots, board games, you name it—was here. Hopefully, that stayed true with the Hippity Hop Cat. 

The door closed, muffling the sounds of frantic parents buzzing through the aisle. Mirio typed away on the keyboard as you paced behind him. You cursed yourself for procrastinating this long to buy the prized toy. Christmas was in less than two weeks!

“So who’s the gift for?” 

“Oh!” His deep voice pulled you back to the present. You walked forward with folded arms, anxiously hugging yourself. “It’s for Eri, a sweet little girl my next-door neighbor, Shouta, adopted earlier this year. She had a rough upbringing, but fortunately, she’s living with someone who cares for her deeply.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled softly at Mirio, making his fingers freeze above the keyboard. That smile of yours took his breath away; he nodded but secretly tried controlling his heart that beat like a bass drum. It was difficult since you were so close to him. “This will be Eri’s first Christmas, and she wants the Hippity Hop Cat; I told Shouta I would buy it for her, helping ease some pressure off his shoulders.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you.” Mirio admired everything about you. He was absolutely smitten with you ever since you started working in the perfume department. Mirio sometimes strolled through the floor during his breaks just to catch a glimpse of you. After scrolling through the computer, the blonde man frowned. “Hmm…looks like we’re out of stock. And the next shipment won’t come until the twenty-first.” 

You groaned. “Man, that’s cutting it close; you think you can hold one for me? I can buy it during my break or after work.” 

“I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks, Mirio.” You squeezed his shoulder, and he shuddered at the touch. Glancing at your watch, you said, “I gotta go before Nemuri wonders where I am. But thanks for helping out!” 

“Sure!” He saw you slip out the door in a hurry; you throw an apologetic smile for good measure. Pushing the elf hat further up, Mirio chuckled, “No problem.”

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Okay, so maybe there was a slight problem.

Santa Claus was still around town, and Mirio was placed on “elf duty” to help out with the pictures. Don’t get him wrong, the sunshine man adored children as much as the jolly old man who lived in the North Pole. However, Mirio realized he couldn’t guard the Hippity Hop Cat for you. All he could do was pray that one miraculously stayed on the shelf until you bought it. 

A flash went off, snapping Mirio back to his job. He smiled brightly, guiding the kid off Santa’s lap and ushering the next one to the chair. Nearly every parent in Japan was here today, the line looping around the store. Other customers, not visiting Santa, shopped as well, making the place extra crowded today. Yet, none of them were you, and that worried Mirio. 

“Ho, ho, ho, it was nice meeting you, sweetie!” 

Oh right! Mirio needed to focus, but it was hard knowing you weren’t here yet. All Mirio wanted to do was make people happy, especially you. After the sweet story you shared with him, he was more determined than ever to get you that toy. His blue eyes glanced at the bearded man in the red coat—could he help? Who knows. 

As Mirio waved goodbye to each kid, you stumbled off the escalator, face flushed as though you ran fifty flights of stairs. You glanced around the packed floor, dodging an airplane that whizzed by and brushing against the sea of customers to find Mirio. The blonde elf locked eyes with you and flashed a relieved grin; the grueling wait was over. 

And so was his duty with Santa Claus, what luck! Mirio marched over to you, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you to the aisle. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a robot’s arm. “The perfume department was swamped with tourists and other people. I practically had to beg Nemuri to let me slip away for a few minutes so I could buy—” Turning the corner, you gasped in disbelief at the empty shelves before choking out, “—the toy.”

Mirio blew a low whistle; people were snatching these toys off the shelves like no tomorrow. Still, he wouldn’t give up just yet. “C’mon, maybe there’s some left in stock.” 

“You sure?” 

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Mirio flashed you a boyish smile, blue eyes brimming with determination. You nodded and followed him through the elaborate maze of this chaotic toy store. 

However, just as you both passed by the cash register, someone bellowed out: “That’s the last Hippity Hop Cat, sir. Thank you for shopping at Toyland; have a nice day!” 

No! You screeched to a halt. Your eyes watched as the man grabbed his bag and left the store with an exhausted but relieved face. Without thinking, you slammed against the counter, scaring the young green-haired employee who clutched his uniform. Leaning forward, you desperately half-whispered, “Please tell me what you said wasn’t true!” 

“I-I’m sorry?”

“The toy!” You frantically gestured to the exit, the man now long gone. “Please tell me you have another Hippity Hop Cat for sale!” 

“U-Um, I, uhh, well,” Midoriya stammered until his eyes spotted a familiar face behind you. The nervous man sighed in relief, knowing he was saved. “Mirio!”

“Hey, Izuku, sorry about that,” Mirio bashfully chuckled and clasped your shoulder to calm you down. The blonde man quickly introduced you to his co-worker, adding, “They’re trying to buy the Hippity Hop Cat, but are you sure that was the last one in stock?” 

“Yeah, it was. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh…oh, okay…” Your shoulders drooped like a sad puppy; you were too late. After saying a quick apology, you numbly dragged your feet toward the exit as a gray cloud formed over your head. A warm hand stopped you from going any further, and you blinked up. “Huh, Mirio, what’s wrong?”

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” you dismissed his concerns, but he wasn’t convinced; your eyes told a different story. Still, you mustered a brave face with a faint smile. “Listen, I appreciate everything you did. I knew it was a longshot getting the toy, so don’t sweat it, really.”  

“I know, I just,” he sucked in a breath, “I just wished I could have helped you out more. Especially since you wanted to make Eri happy.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get her something else.” You squeezed his bicep when Mirio opened his mouth to interject; he faltered slightly at the brief touch. “It’s fine, really. I’m sure Eri will love any toy for her gift; I promise.” 

Mirio nodded, watching you leave the store and disappearing within the crowd. You said everything was fine, but he knew that wasn’t true. That fake smile of yours spoke volumes. There has to be a way to get that toy, Mirio pondered, rubbing his chin and staring at the floor with furrowed eyes. 

Suddenly, an idea popped inside his head just as a jingle bell chimed behind him. A white smile stretched across Mirio’s face. The idea was crazy, maybe a longshot, too, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Mirio whipped out his phone and searched through his contacts until he landed on a specific name. 

The line started ringing...and ringing...and ringing when—

“H-Hi, Mirio.”

“Hey, Tamaki!” The blonde man beamed like the sun. He lowered his voice, cupping the phone for secrecy while walking away. “Listen, buddy. I know you’re busy and all, but I got a huge favor to ask…” 

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“…you think you can do it?” A small puff of breath floated out of your lips as you stepped away from the revolving doors. You stood beside a colorful window display of tiny elves grinning from ear to ear, their eager hands holding toys for the good boys and girls. One elf balanced himself at the tippy top of Santa’s mountainous red bag, his green gloves clutching the pointy hat for dear life. 

You smiled, appreciating the creative design before saying, “I can close the following week...yeah...okay, awesome, thanks again!”

Crisis one averted. Crisis two was up for debate, mainly because you held a shopping bag with Eri’s gift. It wasn’t the Hippity Hop Cat, but a nice small plushy cat toy instead. You bought it just a few minutes ago after wandering through the aisles at Toyland. The plushy cat toy wasn’t a bad second choice; it was adorable and incredibly soft to the touch. But it wasn’t the toy you wanted to give for Eri’s first Christmas. 

Oh, well, you sadly thought, biting the inside of your cheek. You stared at the elves again, realizing that their costumes matched Mirio’s work uniform in Toyland, down to the funny little hat. Mirio somehow pulled it off well thanks to his bubbly personality and warm heart that could melt the North Pole's snow. 

At one point, you wondered if Mirio was even there since you didn’t see him at the store today. You assumed he was doing inventory, but Midoriya said Mirio took the day off after a last-minute “personal obligation” came up, and it was too important to ignore. Must have been serious, you sighed as the shopping bag rustled against the wind. 

You braced your coat, hissing as the cold air sliced across your cheeks. Yup, it was time to go unless you wanted to freeze out here. Shuffling away from the window display, you stopped when someone screamed your name. Glancing over, you saw Mirio running toward you with one arm waving high in the air. 

“Hey!” Mirio finally caught up to you, his face flushed and nose redder than Rudolph’s, yet he kept on smiling. “So glad I found you!” 

“Whoa, you alright?” Now it was your turn to be concerned, just like he was when you rushed into the store to ask about the Hippity Hop Cat toy. Mirio nodded enthusiastically, squashing your worries away. “Midoriya said you were busy with a ‘personal obligation’ today. Is everything okay?” 

“Oh yeah, everything is great!”

“Well, that’s, um, great.”

“So, listen, about the Hippity Hop Cat toy—” 

“Mirio, I told you not to worry about it,” you butted in, shaking your shopping bag with the plushy cat. “I went ahead and bought something else for Eri and—”

“Ta-da!” 

You went radio silent, staring in disbelief at the surprise. Sitting in Mirio’s hands was the one and only Hippity Hop Cat toy. The number one toy that was on every kid’s wish list, yet rarer to get than Willy Wonka’s Golden ticket. That toy was now only a few inches away from you. 

“B-But how?!” The words finally fumbled through your lips, flickering your gaze between the toy and Mirio while stumbling forward a bit. “It’s sold out everywhere!” 

“Let’s just say I pulled some strings with Santa’s workshop,” Mirio cheekily grinned like one of the elves from the window display. You choked out a laugh, dropping the shopping bag so you could hold the boxed toy; it felt wonderful in your hands.

You looked up with eyes softer than freshly fallen snow. Mirio continued talking up a storm, his arms flailing wildly like an excited kid who discovered something new. The delicate holiday lights flickered around you both, casting a lovely glow that was as bright as the joy twinkling inside Mirio’s eyes. 

They were always so welcoming that, without thinking, you gave him a crushing hug. Mirio froze, his arms hanging mid-air as he slowly processed what was happening. After a few seconds, his shoulders relaxed, and his strong arms eagerly wrapped around you, holding you in place. Even with that thick coat of yours, you felt very soft that his heart soared to new heights. 

“Thank you, Mirio,” you whispered near his ear, giving him another squeeze. But you didn’t stop there. A sudden urge came over you, and in a bold move, you planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, you bit back a laugh at his flustered face. “You really are the best Helpful Elf I know.” 

“Well, you know me,” he shot you a grin, “I’m always here to help.” 

“Is that so?” You tapped your cheek with your gloved finger. “Think you can help me gift wrap this toy, say tonight at my place?” 

“Luckily for you, I’m a whiz with wrapping paper.” 

Mirio’s hand wormed its way into yours, giving you a loving squeeze before joining you on your long walk home. The Hippity Hop Cat toy was the toy on every kid’s wish list this year, including Eri’s, whose first Christmas was officially saved. And it was all thanks to Mirio, the one and only Helpful Elf at Hazuki’s Toyland.

Thank you for reading!!

FicMas Fest 2020 Masterlist

[jaehotbuns]

do you love me

rating: pg

word count: 4864

characters: you x renjun

genre: waiter!renjun, pure fluff (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

song recommendation: do you love me - stephanie poetri

summary: you pick petals off of a flower to try and figure out if the cute waiter at the sushi restaurant next door feels the same way that you feel about him. you stop when he comes to see you on break at the boba shop, answering the question for you.

“What is that?” Your coworker Taeil asked while washing the dishes that piled up from the afternoon rush that you two just cleared. What better refresher was there than a sugary cup of iced bubble tea on a hot midsummer day? He was referring to the daisy in your hand. It had a large green stem until you cut it close to the bud so that you could sit and pick off its petals.

“Trying to answer a question,” you said, plucking off another spongy white petal and letting it dramatically fall down onto the glass table that was in front of the tea bar. Every petal that you picked, you would say in your head like a middle schooler, “he loves me… He loves me not.”

Taeil laughed as he continued to thoroughly wash the measuring cups and drink shakers like the responsible employee that he was. His eyes occasionally looked up from rinsing the dish bubbles off the utensils to see you sigh every now and then as the number of petals decreased. “Are you trying to figure out if Renjun likes you?”

Your head shot up from your lethargy and mopping, which was half attributed to your mind being dominated with thoughts of the waiter that worked at the sushi bar next to your bubble tea shop and half because you kept messing up drinks during the rush because you could only think about him. Your neck twisted in the direction of Taeil, and you scowled at the smug expression on his face. You knew that expression all too well, it screamed “see, I know I’m right.” To rub it in your face he actually said it although your lack of response already gave him the answer, “I know you too well huh?”

You dropped the flower onto the table and collapsed dramatically against the bright orange sofa that you were sitting on. “There’s approximately 30 to 54 petals on a daisy but I didn’t bother counting the one that I picked,” you sighed. “Do you think there’s a chance that he likes me?”

Without looking at him as your head was rested on the top of the sofa and you were staring straight at the hanging lights which was intended to resemble tapioca pearls but actually ended up looking like fish eggs since they were orange to match the store’s signature colour, you knew he was finished washing the dishes when you heard the squeak of the faucet turning. You could already tell he was drying his hands to walk over from behind the bar to sit next to you.

The store was empty after the rush, leaving only you and Taeil. The bright orange and teal decor, bright lights, and repetitive top 100 pop hits were a deterrent to most customers which made your workplace a takeout shop essentially so you didn’t understand why Huang Renjun always stayed here for an hour with only his phone and a jasmine green tea, 50% sugar, and grass jelly. He recently started to order the roasted hojicha blended iced latte because you recommended it but that’s besides the point, why would he come to this dump?

“Of course he likes you,” Taeil said in a reassuring voice as he plopped down on the sofa next to you. He groaned as his leg got caught in the hanging wire decoration that kids always liked to play in and tangle that you’d always have to ask them nicely not to because their parents didn’t bother. “I wouldn’t even drink the tea here, so why would he?”

“Bad taste buds?” You replied to his rhetorical question which was met by him rolling his eyes.

“No,” Taeil said while pointing his index finger at you once you sat up from your odd position to match his posture. “He usually comes in when you’re working anyways,” he stretched his back and his limbs until he looked like a starfish. “I don’t really see him whenever you’re not around.”

You leaned onto the glass table in front of you two to begin questioning Taeil to clear your doubts. “But I’m the newest employee and he was already a regular before I started here.” He must’ve come for the tea and he was already well-liked by the other employees at the boba shop for being bubbly and polite, and ridiculously cute.

Taeil placed his hands onto the back of his head and curled his back into the fold of the two sofa cushions. “Yeah but he always came in like once a week and would drink while scrolling through his phone,” he nodded and was satisfied with his reasoning. “Now he orders some for his coworkers because he wants another reason to talk to you, cash girl.”

You were still not convinced, but little did you know that Taeil was right.

Another petal was plucked from the daisy as you started the ritual again while reminiscing the first time you met him. “He loves me…”

To commemorate a new employee aboard the “boba crew” your manager called it, which made you cringe although you kept it to yourself because you wanted to keep your job, the owners decided to treat all of the employees to a nice company dinner. And by a nice company dinner they meant eating with the owner, manager, and eight old employees at the next door cheap all you can eat sushi place. You’ve been there before and it was good sushi, but they were definitely making it more grandiose than it actually was.

They said to meet in front of the shop at 5pm, which was too early for dinner but the 5-6 window was cheaper than 6pm onwards because that was usually when people came for dinner. As you were the first person there despite being the purpose of the dinner, they asked you through the group chat to get a nice table by the window even though 5pm was when they opened for dinner and no customer was there yet.

You already knew how bad, unprofessional, and disorganized the management was but you sucked it up because your friend Jeno referred you after he quit to go abroad and you were already mutual friends with some of the staff. So you sucked it up and decided to get a table and sit in the empty sushi restaurant until the other employees came.

As soon as you opened the door to the familiar Japanese restaurant with green and blue decor, you were greeted with shouting from a young boy that was hurriedly setting out dishes on freshly wiped wooden tables. “Chenle, you were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. How long does it take to buy us two chocolate croissants!” He must’ve been anticipating another employee as he was shouting at you with his back turned.

Of course Renjun didn’t expect you to be there, looking pretty with a plain black turtleneck, a light beige houndstooth print blazer, black jeans, and simple accessories and light makeup. No one ever came right at the opening and the restaurant’s seats only started to fill up at the 5:30 minute mark.

Having worked there ever since he was 15 as it was his family’s business, Renjun knew when the French bakery across the street started putting their pastries on sale so they didn’t waste it before closing. So he sent Chenle to fetch their favourite, chocolate nutella croissants, before they opened so they could enjoy it on their break. He usually ate sushi at the back of the kitchen while watching whatever Chinese soap opera Chenle played but he’d occasionally grab a drink at the bubble tea shop next door for a lighter meal.

You tried to suppress your laughter and stood there awkwardly as he still didn’t turn around to acknowledge you, “sorry are you not open yet?”

Renjun froze midway from placing the last pair of chopsticks on the table he had to set as he heard your sweet voice. He didn’t know how he could face a customer after yelling at them for taking too long to buy chocolate croissants. When he turned around, face and ears flushed red with embarrassment, he was saved by Chenle who came in with a white paper bag which was overflowing with French pastries. “Oh welcome, why don’t you have a seat. Wherever’s fine,” Chenle said after setting down the pastries on a nearby table and giving you a set of menus after you told him your reservation.

Although Renjun was cursing at Chenle in his head for being late and making him yell at you, he was also thanking him because he would’ve been a bumbling mess when he saw the pretty customer smiling at his dumb mistake. Once Chenle went to the back to put away the snacks and you were scanning the menu, Renjun rushed to the back and slapped Chenle’s shoulder which caused the poor boy to jump. “Hey! What was that for?” Chenle pouted while rubbing the spot where Renjun smacked him. “I got us some macarons too because the lady said they didn’t sell much today,” he grinned.

On a normal day Renjun would be high-fiving him and saying, “nice!” But today, he was horrified and too shy to talk to you although he really wanted to serve you. He could’ve let Chenle serve your table but he was curious about you. “I just yelled at her because I thought she was you!”

As Chenle tied a knot behind his back to secure his apron he tilted his head to the side, “what did you say to her?”

Renjun paraphrased quickly as too many thoughts were rushing through his head, “something like ‘why are you taking so long with my chocolate croissants Chenle?!” He was gesticulating wildly.

Unbeknownst to you as you texted your coworkers on how long they were going to take to arrive, you heard the sharp noise of high pitched laughter behind the curtain that separated the sushi bar and serving area. You suppress a laugh with your hand as Chenle’s laugh was contagious and very loud.

Knowing how loud and identifiable Chenle’s laugh was, Renjun placed his index finger on his lips and shushed him aggressively. “You want me to take care of her table then?” Chenle asked, as both of them were now ready to serve as the sushi chefs and hostess began to take their positions.

“No!” Renjun whisper-shouted.

Chenle giggled and elbowed Renjun’s side to further make fun of him, “why? Is it because she’s pretty?” Renjun’s face scrunched up, refusing to admit it and not wanting to deny it either because he knew Chenle was tease back saying, “oh so you’re saying she’s not pretty,” if he did.

“I’m taking her drink order,” Renjun huffed as he grabbed a pen and a notepad from a nearby desk and stomped out from behind the curtain. When he walked out into the dining area, satisfaction spread as he saw who you were sitting with. Everyone at the boba shop had arrived and was also looking at the menu, deciding how much sushi they wanted to order just in case they ordered too much and had to hide it in their bags to avoid paying the leftovers fee. If you were a worker, he could see you often and you weren’t just another customer who comes and goes.

Taking a deep breath to prepare him mentally to not mess up and stammer in front of you, he walked over to the only table that was full in the restaurant and held his pen and paper in position. “Hello, my name is Renjun and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you started with some drinks?” His breath caught in his throat when your eyes looked directly into his and smiled. He averted his eyes, pretending to listen to Taeil order drinks and writing down what he wanted to avoid your gaze.

Everyone was ordering cocktails until your manager suggested that they get you a bottle of sake to share as a new employee. Really they were just being nice to reel you in considering how many bad employee reviews there were and how many people quit on them. “Sure,” you nodded and Renjun instantly took it down. When the manager said your name he smiled, another thing I know about her he thought.

Once Renjun went to the back to prepare the drinks, you smiled to yourself as your other employees were talking about how to increase their bad sales compared to the bubble tea chain directly across the street. You liked the way he held his head down and silently moved his lips to himself as he walked to the back, the way he looked up in surprise and froze when he first looked at you, and when his adam’s apple moved slightly when you made eye contact with him.

When all of the employees finished eating their fill to the point of popping the buttons and zippers on their pants because they wanted to take advantage of the all you can eat system and stuff themselves with sashimi, you called Renjun over to get the bill. The manager drunkenly took it out of Renjun’s hands and handed it to the owner to pay. You looked around all of your coworkers and realized they drank more than you did although it was to welcome the new employee. They all had at least 3 shots of sake and 3 cocktails while you had a shot and one very fruity and light cocktail.

Renjun came over one last time to give back the customer’s receipt and little complementary guava candies before waiting to apologize to you. While the other employees stumbled out of the restaurant, which Renjun tried to ignore although he found it odd that they were already shit-faced at barely 7pm, you were the last one to get out of your seat to leave.

“Hey,” he said softly which caused you to turn around before you could make it out. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier, I thought you were someone else,” he apologized while scratching the back of his neck with one hand and another fiddling with the apron’s knot at his back.

You shook your head gently and waved both of your hands in front of you to reassure him, “no it’s okay.” Before you left you jokingly told him one last thing, “if you still feel bad about it how about a chocolate croissant? I work next door at Bobabee.”

Renjun was overjoyed because now he has an excuse to come and see you without being creepy. He also liked the fact that you were unaware that he was already a regular. Throughout his shift that night, he was excited for your blooming relationship.

“He loves me not,” you sighed again for who knows how many times before plucking off another couple of petals. There was only a quarter of petals left now that Taeil was back behind the bar and making drinks as it was time for your break and you were to cover him after your 30 minutes was up. You hoped that the customers weren’t weirded out by an employee ruining a perfectly beautiful white daisy but if their poor quality and cheap drinks didn’t deter them then nothing would.

In your heart, you had a feeling that Renjun liked you. Taeil did list the reasons that you also thought to yourself that he liked you; he always came in on your shifts, he talked to you the most even if it was simple small talk and getting to know each other, and whenever you came to eat at the sushi place he served your table. But for all that you knew he could’ve been looking for a platonic friend around his age.

Much to your surprise, there he was. When you looked up you saw Renjun still in his employee uniform, a black shirt with a blue short-sleeved kimono on top, black sweats, but missing his apron. He looked hesitant to join the line that was forming once he saw Taeil taking orders and making drinks but his face lit up when he saw you scrambling to shove something into your jean pocket. He walked over to you while you tried to be nonchalant despite thinking about him throughout the duration of your break.

“Hey!” He smiled brightly as he took a seat on the sofa next to you. “On break?” He asked, jutting his head towards Taeil who was calming checking out each customer.

“Yeah,” you said, still flustered at his unprecedented visit. “You are too?” You glanced at your phone’s time and saw that it was 4:45pm and silently cursed at yourself because the restaurant was closed to prepare for dinner service so he didn’t even go on shift yet.

Renjun shook his head, “just thought I should grab a drink before work.” He never did that, you thought. He always came on his break or to bring a drink home after work but you shook it off. In actuality, he wanted to ask you out before work on a date so that during his shift he would be too busy to be excited about your acceptance or sad from your rejection.

You placed your hand on your cheek and used your elbow to support your head as it pressed against the smooth glass surface of the table. “I could go for some sushi right now,” you sighed as you had to close by yourself tonight as another coworker called in sick.

“Why don’t you go after your shift?” Renjun asked. You told him that you would only go to the restaurant occasionally whenever you were finished shopping with your friends or family since it was located downtown but once you two were more acquainted with each other, you both went to your workplaces more often. Your more frequent visits gave him hope that you also had feelings for him. “I sneak you some free tempura, I know that’s your favourite,” he nudged you lightly to try and convince you to come.

You pouted at how you had to reject such a cute proposal from Renjun and on top of that free food too, “I have to close by myself tonight.” Your bubble tea shop closed at 11, which was way too late in your opinion because who in their right mind wants boba at 11, and his sushi shop closed at the same time. Both of you would also have to spend at least 30 minutes washing dishes and cleaning the tables and floors.

Renjun’s shoulders sank slightly. You were his favourite customer because you always came with your friends and both of your exchanges were always overly polite like too many thank you’s and no problem’s and when he turned around your friends would tease you about it. He also liked the ego boost when your friends would try and whisper their acknowledgement of your taste in men by saying, “oh you’re right he is cute.” But his favourite comment that he heard from your table was, “hey you’d make a good couple.”

He still remembers the first time you came to the restaurant with your friends.

“There’s a cute regular that works here,” you told your friends before entering the door and waiting for the hostess to finish with the guests in front of you.

“Is that why you wanted to go here?” Sooyoung asked while smiling up to her cheeks and elbowing the side of your arm as she was excited to see her friend’s love life bloom after being dead for who knows how long.

There were at least 3 all you can eat sushi restaurants that you could think of that were suggested in your group chat of where to go before you went shopping but you turned those done with excuses like, “let’s go to the cheapest.” Your friends all agreed with no idea of your intentions to see Renjun until you told them at the door. For all you knew he could’ve come in for the night shift or was taking a break today.

When you were seated by the hostess, you all sat down with you closest to the inside of the booth. The first waiter that took your drink order was aloof and walked quickly away to get your waters. “Is that him?” Yeji asked after he left.

You shook your head after he came back and set the clear cups of water onto your table. When it came time to order the food, there he was. Huang Renjun with his typical posture when taking orders, pen already in one hand pressed to the notepad in the other. When he looked up to see who was talking his face instantly brightened up at seeing your appearance.

You were dressed more casual compared to the dinner and you obviously looked more like yourself out of your uniform, although the black t-shirt with the mascot patch on your arm also made you look cute. “Oh, it’s you,” he smiled and gave a little wave before continuing to take your friend’s orders.

He turned around to send the ticket to the sushi bar while trying to suppress the large smile on his face. “Ohhh, she’s got herself a cute,” your friends teased as you leaned against the booth embarrassed yet happy that he acknowledged you. “He’s not bad,” Yuna laughed, all of you were excited to watch the cute waiter bring out your food with a unchanging smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you were the only one to say it whenever he came around to serve your food.

“No problem,” he’d reply back, look into your eyes, and then return to the back.

“Oh you too are flirting!” Yeji exclaimed while squeezing her hands into fists at how cute she found the two of you.

“We’re just being polite!” You tried to defend yourself although it was heart fluttering that he only replied to you.

To your disappointment, another waiter brought out the bill when you all finished eating. When you all finished paying and were about to head on with your day, he made sure to catch you before you left as he was checking himself out in the washroom’s mirror to make sure he didn’t look bad from running around the restaurant all morning. He barely caught you out the door but luckily you were sitting inside the booth and had to drag your bag out of the corner. “Are you working today?” He asked which made you turn around like the first time you met.

“No, I have a day off,” you smiled at how he made sure to say one last thing to you before you left. He was disappointed, that meant he couldn’t see you on your break.

“Oh, have fun on your day off!” He waved so that you could catch up to your friends who were already at the door but watching you as you weren’t with them but with the cute regular.

“Have fun at work,” you laughed and he laughed back. That was what he said to you when you first served him.

After you left, even without hearing it, Renjun could see that your friends were squealing at your interaction and he smiled to himself. He must’ve known that you felt the same way too.

“Should I order a drink though?” Renjun asked as despite Taeil being a pro at working by himself at a steady pace, he didn’t want to add to the orders he had.

You knew he was referring to the line of three customers in front of the till while Taeil was mixing drinks for those who already ordered. “You could wait until I’m off break,” you said as it would take that amount of time for Taeil to clear the line and for the customers to die down.

Renjun nodded at your proposal as now he could talk to you even longer as he could order and have a conversation while you made his drink. “You always make the best drinks,” he said. He didn’t say that just because he liked you, for some reason your drinks had the right amount of sweetness despite everyone using the same recipe.

“Is that the only reason why you keep coming on my shifts?” You asked to tease him but also to find out if he came to see you or if you really just made drinks to his preference. Everyone makes the drinks according to the same recipe but when you asked for your usual order of matcha with 50% sugar, tapioca, grass jelly, light ice, on your day off Taeil made it taste completely different than how you did.

Renjun suppressed the blush as if he could control the blood rush to his cheeks, but he tried to shrug it off. “No, to see my favourite employee too.” He looked at your reaction and was satisfied when your lips curled into a small smile.

Both of you reminisce about the time when he first came in after the chocolate croissant fiasco.

“Hello!” You greeted the customer when the door opened to see the cute boy from the sushi restaurant that yelled at you because he mistook you for his coworker who came in with a big bag of pastries. “Oh you actually came!” You were happy to see him. At that time you simply thought he was attractive and cute because of his mistake, so you didn’t know that one day you’d fall in love with him.

He was in a simple dark grey t-shirt which he tucked into his light beige capri pants that was secured by a sleek black belt with gold detailing. He must’ve been going to work for the night shift again as it was nearing 5pm. “Here for an apology,” he said as he handed you a single box. You checked the contents and saw a dainty strawberry cake. You visited the French bakery before and this cake was 3x the price of the infamous chocolate croissant.

“I can’t take this!” You said, trying to give it back to him but he shook his head and moved his hands to behind his back so you couldn’t shove it in his hands.

“How about a discount?” He joked. You agreed which was against company policy but the cake was worth it. You could only give the discount to yourself, immediate family members, or significant others which is funny because you both didn’t know that you were going to be that one day.

“Your name for the order?” You asked after taking his order and payment.

“Renjun,” he said. You smiled, now both of you knew each other's names.

When your break was over, Taeil plopped onto the coach you were on and began reading the daily news on his phone like the quarter aged grandpa that he was. Luckily, the customers took their drinks for takeout and no one else came in. “Are you going to order watermelon or hojicha this time?” You asked once you were behind the bar and at the till with Renjun facing you.

“I don’t know...  How about a special drink?” He asked, mustering the courage to ask you on a date now that Taeil had his earphones in and the store was empty.

“Oh! I made a drink a while ago that kinda tasted like the tofu desserts you find in a packet at the grocery store. Do you like those?” He nodded and smiled at your excitement over your very own secret drink creation. Once you asked for the size, toppings, and his payments, you were excited to make the drink while Renjun was shaking in his clothes.

“Hey I was closing tonight too,” he began and you nodded while putting milk and tea into a shaker. “So did you want to grab dinner after work?”

You nearly dropped the shaker while you were mixing the liquids together at the sudden request. You stopped what you were doing and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Like a…” You didn’t have the courage to say date.

“A date… Will you go on a date with me?” He asked, looking into your eyes sincerely. He couldn’t take you to a fancy restaurant since he was working for his family and saving up for tuition. He didn’t have enough time to take you for a long date either because he was either studying or working but he wanted to be more than friends with you and this was the only way he could do that. To take you out to a 24 hour diner down the street.

“Sure,” you smiled and looked down out of embarrassment.

You both didn’t care that you weren’t dressed nicely or prepared beforehand. You were just happy that your feelings were reciprocated.

“I’ll wait in front of the store when you’re done,” he said.

You remembered the daisy scrunched up in your pocket. You picked it up on the way before work and felt apologetic for plucking it when you didn’t have to.

You didn’t need to pluck the last petal to know that; he loves me.

[thelibraryofhell]

Pretentious and Cringy: RoseBlood

For our very first condemnation to this library, we are given RoseBlood by A.G. Howard. Follow the read more for a full count of its sins and stupidity. Warning: it gets long.

This doesn’t count as a sin but great Satan the damn description is way too long! This was likely not the author’s choice though which is why it gets a pass.

This YA novel from New York Times bestselling author A. G. Howard marks the beginning of a new era for fans of the Splintered series. Rune Germain moves to a boarding school outside of Paris, only to discover that at this opera-house-turned-music-conservatory, phantoms really do exist. RoseBlood is a Phantom of the Opera–inspired retelling in which Rune’s biggest talent—her voice—is also her biggest curse. Fans of Daughter of Smoke and Bone and the Splintered series will find themselves captivated by this pulse-pounding spin on a classic tale. Rune, whose voice has been compared to that of an angel, has a mysterious affliction linked to her talent that leaves her sick and drained at the end of every performance. Convinced creative direction will cure her, her mother ships her off to a French boarding school for the arts, rumored to have a haunted past. Shortly after arriving at RoseBlood conservatory, Rune starts to believe something otherworldly is indeed afoot. The mystery boy she’s seen frequenting the graveyard beside the opera house doesn’t have any classes at the school, and vanishes almost as quickly as he appears. When Rune begins to develop a secret friendship with the elusive Thorn, who dresses in clothing straight out of the 19th century, she realizes that in his presence she feels cured. Thorn may be falling for Rune, but the phantom haunting RoseBlood wants her for a very specific and dangerous purpose. As their love continues to grow, Thorn is faced with an impossible choice: lead Rune to her destruction, or save her and face the wrath of the phantom, the only father he’s ever known.

That first paragraph would have sufficed for description and given the reader some mystery. The second could have stayed but it’s on thin ice. And we don’t have ice in hell. 

To summarize the story: Rune Germain is a 16-17 year old girl from Pleasant, Texas who is, in her own words “possessed by music”. Thanks to a rich aunt and some nepotism, she gets the chance to go to RoseBlood, a conservatory in Paris that is a refurbished opera house that, according to Rune’s online research, is the place where Gaston Leroux’s Phantom Of The Opera story really took place. Upon arrival, Rune is immediately overtaken by music and makes an enemy in Katrina Nilsson by interrupting Kat’s audition for Renata in the school’s opera. She also makes friends with a few other students who really have no bearing on either the plot or Rune’s adventures. She eventually finds her Love Interest Thorn - real name Etalon, stalking her as she goes about her day to day life, and immediately falls in love with him because they are Twin Flame and Destined by Destiny. It is soon enough revealed that Rune, Thornalon, and Erik are all psychic vampires that must feed off humans to survive. It is also soon revealed that Rune and Thornalon are Christina Nilsson’s soul reincarnated and split and that Rune “has Christine’s voice”. It also turns out that Christina and Erik got married and tried to have a child who was born premature and died. Erik was driven mad(der) by the child’s death and somehow, in the 1900′s, managed to build a contraption that kept the baby “alive” until he could track down Christine’s soul and reunite the pieces and transfer it to the baby... Needless to say, he failed, Rune and Thornalon live happily ever after, and Rune suffers no consequences from any of her terrible actions through the whole novel.

Sin count time!

Sin 1: The school name! RoseBlood.  What does it have to do with anything? There are bleeding roses later in the story but why would a school name itself RoseBlood? This choice is never explained. It has no French basis, no connection to the opera-house turned school, and no connection to Gaston Leroux’s original Phantom Of The Opera.

Sin 2: Overwrought descriptions right out of the gate.

At home, I have a poster on my wall of a rose that’s bleeding. Its petals are white, and red liquid oozes from its heart, thick and glistening warm. 

Mom looks out her window where the wet trees have thickened to multicolored knots, like an afghan gilded with glitter.

I trace the window now curtained by mud, imagining the glass cracking and bursting; imagining myself sprouting wings to fly away through the opening—back to America and my two friends who were tolerant of my strange quirks.

These are all from chapter one. It only gets worse as you go.

Sin 3: Racism. Main character Rune Germain regularly describes herself as a “gypsy”. According to her, on her father’s side, she’s a g*psy. Moving through this review, I will be censoring the word. I’m a demon of hell, not a piece of shit. Rune never says Roma or Romani in the entire book. There’s no references to Romani culture, nothing about the problems Romani people face in the modern day, nothing. Rune is also as white as a piece of paper. You can see it on the cover

And in how she describes herself.

People say we could pass for sisters. We share her ivory complexion, the tiny freckles spattered across the bridge of her nose, the wide green eyes inside a framework of thick lashes, and her hair—black as a raven’s wings.

If you look up pictures of Romani people, you see that they’re far from ivory skinned. 

It’s not only Rune. Her Aunt Charlotte does it too. The “Phantom” does it. And Roma culture is treated very poorly throughout the novel. Rune several times refers to her “g*psy blood” as “cursed” or “terrible”. One example:

Nausea sweeps through me at the thought. After our encounter, I realized why I was enchanted by the spider’s feeding rituals, that there was something in my g*psy blood—something tainted and wrong.

In this modern day and age, can’t humans stop demonizing and stereotyping an entire culture? Or using “half-g*psy” lineage to make characters “exotic” or “mystic”? No? Fine, I’ll see you down here eventually. 

Sin 4: The Love Interest’s backstory..... TRIGGER WARNING FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION OF RAPE, CHILD TRAFFICKING, AND REFERENCED CHILD SEXUAL ASSAULT.

Rune’s Love Interest is named Etalon. His mother was sexually assaulted by a psychic vampire who is apparently from Canada - I have no idea why Howard felt the need to include that - and it ruined her life to the point where she was forced to turn to prostitution to feed herself and Etalon. A man kept trying to “buy” Etalon from her because he was beautiful. She kept refusing, and eventually, she was murdered. Etalon was quickly snatched up into child trafficking where, at one point, he was forced to drink lye water to damage his vocal cords because he wouldn’t stop singing. He eventually escaped when Erik found him and took him in, renaming him Thorn. 

Love Interests with tragic backstories are a staple of the YA genre. It makes them mysterious and interesting. It often drives the main character’s interest in the aloof and unusual bad boy. Quite often, these backstories involve dead or missing parents, being turned into a vampire or werewolf, or some combination of all of these things. It’s very rare that it gets so real. Child trafficking is a very real and prevalent issue in the world and it needs attention brought to it. But not like this. Using it as a character’s backstory is something that takes a level of skill Howard simply does not have. It needs to be written with respect to victims who might read it and not just be used to give characters a compelling but otherwise unused backstory. Thornalon never displays any indicators that the time spent in this situation traumatized him. There’s no signs of PTSD or other mental health issues that might arise from what he went through. There’s also no signs that Howard donated any money from book sales to charities like Child Fund, Save The Children, or ECPAT-USA. This is a very serious topic that NEEDS more attention brought to it and Howard glossed over it like it was nothing. 

Sin 5: Underutilized setting.  Rune comes from Pleasant, Texas and moves to Paris, France. But there’s no sense of wonder from her. She never talks about how beautiful the city is or learning French. Supposedly, the school only admits American students.

“How many foreign boarding schools offer admittance only to American kids? This is a rare opportunity . . . a taste of French culture in a setting that feels like home.”

Oooor the author couldn’t be bothered to deal with French translations or expanding the student body to include a diversity? There’s no French culture anywhere in this book. Any time Rune goes into Paris, it’s skipped over. There’s nothing about it that says Paris. It could have been set in New Jersey and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. 

Sin 6: Each chapter begins with a quote from a different author and work. Including, weirdly enough, Karl Marx... Beginning a chapter with a quote is fine, but it should be consistent. Picking a single work or author to use helps to reader see a consistency in the theme of the book. Since this is a Phantom of The Opera based story, it would make sense to use quotes from the book. Instead, the author uses a different work for each chapter, and it’s honestly just annoying. 

Sin 7: All promise, no pay off. This book has a promise of action and mystery. It’s got a fabulous premise and a setting that could be beautifully used if in the hands of the right author. But it misses the mark on good characters, action, and keeping a consistent pace. 

Punishments: For being tone-deaf and generally bad at writing, author A.G. Howard is condemned to have the dead tree in her backyard become home to her state’s buzzard population. For being a terrible protagonist, Rune Germain is condemned to find a mistake in the middle of her knitting projects just as she is about to finish them. For the terrible Phantom Iteration known as Erik, we condemn his instruments to always be just slightly out tune. And Thorn/Etalon... we order you to get a lot of therapy and a service dog. 

So let it be recorded. Today’s story time is concluded. 

[enbyleighlines]

What about if nhs had a Little exhibit of his photos? And it's still early days for qingsangcheng (is that right? Or I guess it's more sangcheng & qingcheng right?). Anyway. It's early days for those three, and nhs only mentioned it off hand to jc but the two of them show up to support? 📸

Awww, so many wholesome prompts! Thank you, anonymous, for sending me a request. I love writing about my fav head-shaker~

—

It’s the first night of the nature photography exhibit at the local art center. The building used to be a wool mill, and half of the rooms are either in renovation for various tech companies, or still waiting to be bought. But the basement has been turned into an art studio, which hosts both pottery classes and the occasional art exhibit.

It’s not a high honor, to be included in this haphazardly prepared exhibit. Nie Huaisang knows this. And yet they can’t help but be nervous.

Nie Huaisang stands in front of the folding panels that display their photographs. They’re primarily shots of different local birds, with the occasional deer, fox, or raccoon. Nie Huiasang’s favorite photo is enlarged and framed. It was taken near sunrise, with a great white heron dipping its beak into its own reflection in the river. The colors are especially vibrant, due to the early morning glow.

When people stop to stare at it, Nie Huaisang feels the pride all the way down to their toes. They’re standing nearby, to answer questions about their methods and equipment. And, of course, to try to sell their work.

That last bit turns out to be harder than Nie Huaisang expected. They eagerly chat up any passerby who lingers at a particular picture, describing the story behind it, and dropping subtle hints about where it might look the best hanging up in their home. But though most people laugh and listen with interest, very few actually buy anything.

Even the heron kissing its reflection, Nie Huaisang’s magnum opus, remains unsold.

At least Nie Mingjue stops by around noon, which lifts Huaisang’s spirits. Though their Gege doesn’t possess a single artistic bone in their body, he pointedly gives each individual photo a long look.

“You did good,” he says, and pats Huaisang on the head.

Nie Huaisang chuckles into their hand. They will never stop being amused by their Gege’s stilted attempts at being supportive.

But then Nie Mingjue has to leave for work, and Huaisang is left alone once more.

Another boring hour passes without much to comment on. Nie Huaisang manages to sell a couple of postcards with songbirds on them, but they’re not exactly wracking in the dough.

Money isn’t really a huge concern for Nie Huaisang. That is, they come from a comfortably well off family. Huaisang’s parents and Gege would happily pitch in if Huaisang ever needed it. After all, it was Mingjue who convinced their Fuqin to pay the entirety of Huaisang’s college tuition. But Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to need their help, now that they’ve graduated. They want to prove that they can survive off of their art, that their BA in Photography was worth the heavy investment.

Unfortunately, so far Huaisang has not been able to live off their photography alone. They also have to work part-time at an arts and crafts store, which so far has been less exciting that Huaisang had expected.

That’s just how retail works, Wei Wuxian often said. He and Wen Ning also had to take on customer service jobs.

But maybe that was just a necessary part of being an artist. Perhaps all artists had to struggle before they could blossom. At least, those are the type of thoughts Nie Huaisang tells themself, to make the frustration more bearable.

Nie Huaisang is just starting to go down that mental rabbit hole again, but they hear their name being called.

“Huaisang, hey!”

Huaisang whirls around, surprised to first hear and then see their boyfriend Jiang Cheng.

They’ve only been dating a little over a month at this point, and Nie Huaisang had only mentioned the exhibit in passing. Again, it wasn’t exactly a high honor, to be included in such a rinky-dink exhibit. So there was no need to ask Jiang Cheng to come.

Yet there he is. And he brought Wen Qing.

The two walk arm in arm. They are a good looking couple, though they still avoid labeling themselves as such. Jiang Cheng is all sharp edges and tightly coiled muscle, while Wen Qing has soft curves, with a relaxed, confident posture.

Nie Huaisang, meanwhile, feels like a gangly stick bug in comparison.

“You came,” Nie Huaisang says, brushing aside that unwelcome, unnecessarily self-deprecating thought. Jiang Cheng seems to like the way they look just fine.

“Of course I came,” Jiang Cheng replies. He sounds offended at the idea that he wouldn’t come.

“Are these yours?” Wen Qing speaks up unexpectedly. She detaches herself from Jiang Cheng to get a closer look at the photos. “All of these?”

“Everything on this side of the panel, yes.”

Wen Qing stares down a deer that is facing the camera. “Look at that,” she says, “How beautiful. This deer lives around here?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang confirms, “All these pictures were taken locally.”

“Talented, aren’t they?” Jiang Cheng says, throwing an arm around Huaisang’s shoulders. He points off to a picture of a fox. “I was there for that one.”

Nie Huaisang tries to stifle a giggle and winds up snorting. “You mean, you were asleep in the tent.”

“Oh,” says Wen Qing, understanding, “is this from that time you two went camping together?” She studies the fox photo, even bending down to get a better view. “Maybe I should come next time. I want to see a fox.”

“That was a rare chance encounter,” Huaisang rushes to tell her, “I can’t guarantee any fox sightings in the future.”

But Jiang Cheng latches onto the more important aspect of Wen Qing’s words. “Wait, you’d go camping with us? Seriously? I thought you said you hated camping.”

Wen Qing shrugs. “I hated camping as a kid,” she says, without tearing her gaze away from Huaisang’s photographs, “But that was mainly due to the fact that I’d be forced to interact with Wen Xu and Wen Chao. Also, the adults would stay up late drinking and then spend the days in their beds with horrid hangovers, so I’d be left babysitting all the younger kids. Neither of those factors would come into play if I went camping with the two of you.”

Jiang Cheng hums, a short sound to acknowledge the weight of Wen Qing’s words without making a big deal out of them.

Huaisang throws in a cheery, “We’d love to have you tag along,” to lighten the mood.

Jiang Cheng presses a kiss to Huaisang’s temple. “We would,” he agrees.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wen Qing says. She moves to the great white heron, in its magnificent frame. “Wow,” she breathes out a sigh of wonder, “This is yours, too?”

“It is!”

Jiang Cheng squeezes Nie Huaisang to his side. Presumably, it’s to show his pride.

Nie Huaisang finds themself melting into the one-armed embrace. Leaning against Jiang Cheng’s warm, solid torso always fills Huaisang with a strong sense of comfort. Jiang Cheng’s fingers curling into the fabric of Huaisang’s shirt provokes a different, equally pleasant feeling. Huaisang feels desired. And being desired makes Huaisang feel like they’re capable of moving mountains.

Wen Qing slowly, almost reluctantly, turns away from the photo. “How much are you selling this one for?”

A shard of hope pierces Nie Huaisang’s heart. They attempt to ignore it as they answer, “Forty-five, with the frame. Thirty without the frame.”

Wen Qing arches a brow at Jiang Cheng. “What do you think?”

Jiang Cheng’s face scrunches. It’s adorably evident that he doesn’t understand the question. “What do I think about what?”

“Do you think I should buy it?”

That shard of hope wedges deeper into Nie Huaisang’s chest.

Jiang Cheng steps away from Nie Huaisang to get a better look at the photo. “You should,” he answers, “if you want to.”

“I do want to.” Wen Qing’s gaze is back on the heron. “I’ve been looking for something to cover that nasty hole in the bathroom wall.” Then, without prompting, she tells Huaisang in an aside, “It was already there when I moved in.”

Nie Huaisang nods wordlessly. They’re more focused on the possibility of making a sale, though they try to keep the greed from showing on their face.

“I’ll take it,” Wen Qing decides, “With the frame, please.”

“Of course!” Nie Huaisang rushes to their large canvas bag, where they have several copies of the print stored. Then they take a frame from a nearby box, and summon all of their focus so that they can slide the photo within the frame with steady fingers.

Huaisang can feel two pairs of eyes on them, but that doesn’t phase them. Over the two months they’ve been dating Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang has grown incredibly comfortable around the both of them. Of course, Jiang Cheng has been a casual acquaintance of theirs since high school. So, to a certain extent, Huaisang was already comfortable around him. But Nie Huaisang wasn’t expecting to get so close with Wen Qing. Especially since they were sharing a lover. And yet here they are.

“Finished,” Huaisang announces once they’re done. They gently transfer it to Wen Qing’s care.

In return, she gives them the cash. “Thank you,” she says, “I can’t wait to hang it up. In fact, I think I’m going to go home and do that now. Jiang Cheng, are you sticking around?”

Jiang Cheng looks at Nie Huaisang and nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright.” Wen Qing gives them both a wave. “I’ll text you later,” she tells Jiang Cheng, “We should go out to dinner tonight, the three of us. I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang respond in unison. They share a look.

Nie Huaisang giggles. “I’d like that,” they add, but while facing Jiang Cheng, “And then we can watch a movie at my place, if no one has to get up early tomorrow.”

Jiang Cheng’s face softens a bit. “That sounds nice,” he admits, almost like it’s an embarrassing confession.

“It’s a plan, then.” Wen Qing steps forward and tugs Jiang Cheng by his collar into a passionate farewell kiss. She makes it look like they’re parting for weeks, and not just for a couple of hours.

Then again, Jiang Cheng isn’t any better.

One thing Nie Huaisang has noticed from watching Jiang Cheng kiss Wen Qing, is that he tends to look like he’s in pain. Or maybe he’s just concentrating really hard. Huaisang doesn’t know why it happens, only that it’s super cute.

Finally, the two part, and Wen Qing strides off with her framed photo.

“You don’t actually have to stay,” Huaisang tells Jiang Cheng, “It’s pretty boring, just standing here all day. I promise I won’t hold it against you if you leave.”

But Jiang Cheng shrugs his shoulders. “I want to stay, at least for a little while longer,” he says, “Keep you company.”

It’s said so softly, so cutely, that Nie Huaisang has to squee quietly to themself.

Jiang Cheng must hear the sound, because the skin beneath his eyes turns a purplish red color. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he scoffs.

“Still,” Huaisang says, “Thank you.” They pop up on their tiptoes to give their boyfriend a kiss. “I love you.”

That makes Jiang Cheng choke, as it usually does. One day, Huaisang hopes, Jiang Cheng won’t look so taken aback every time he hears the L word. But, even in his shock, he manages to echo back: “I... I love you, too.”

[falloutforties]

Five Years (Deacon x Sole)

CHAPTER ONE: TOTAL ATOMIC ANNIHILATION!

Description: The second she crawled out of that vault, dead cockroach meat in her pocket and tongue still not completely thawed, she knew she didn’t have to lie anymore. No more candy-striped wallpaper coating the halls, no more perfect wife and mother. She was no one. She was everyone. She didn’t sugarcoat her feelings, she didn’t hold her tongue. And it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that honesty, it’s that he had to mix in his honesty with a little sweet prevarication, like rum and coke-- but she was straight vodka, and he was starting to feel a little dizzy. Set in a world in which David Bowie did exist at one time, because the author can’t imagine a world in which he didn’t.

Warnings: Swearing and some fighting as well, but aside from that, no real warnings. I’m shit at writing angst, so there’s none of that. Slow burn, all chapters already written, hopefully one chapter a week unless grad school totally swamps me. Also, there are several elements of this story that are little fix-its for me, because todd really made me try to care about a son and husband smh. I was running around the wasteland like “why does everybody keep talking about my son? The only son I know is named Dogmeat, and he is a Good Boy.” ALSO because todd won’t let me romance Deacon. 

Note from the Author: Hi folks! I wrote this to help me get through my writing block and because I needed a lil comfort in these trying times, so I figured I would make this blog to share it. I’m in the process of also putting it on ao3, but this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written so I’m not sure how this all works. I hope y’all enjoy!!!! This story gets started a little slow because I wanted to give an introduction for how I interpret the sole survivor’s personality and such. Pls let me know if you like this, and if you want to read more!! Love you!! <3

When she woke up in the morning, she knew the exact percentage of how likely she was to die that day, down to the decimal. It was not like a superpower, per se, just a sixth sense. An awareness, she might call it. She was incredibly aware of herself.

She couldn’t sense this clearly in other people, though she did have a sense of it. A vague direction as to how closely they’ll come to seeing their entire life flash before their eyes. She had seen it once or twice in Nate’s eyes over the breakfast table— a tint of green in his brown eyes that wasn’t there the day before, almost like a warning.

Something’s going to happen. It might not be bad, or it might be terrible. But it’s something.

She watched him turn his nose up at the box of Sugar Bombs sat on the countertop, favoring instead a cup of coffee and half a tato. She waited patiently for him to start his bi-weekly diatribe against the Sugar Bombs Corporation and their devious aims against the children of the Commonwealth.

“Did you know there’s a Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing?” He’d mentioned, several months ago for the first time. She was honestly just excited to hear that he’d managed to establish a new argument, though she wasn’t convinced that the Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing was a direct link to Childhood Communism as much as it was just outright standard capitalism.

When he finally settled at the table with his half-tato in one hand, coffee in the other, and Boston Bugle folded neatly under his arm, she watched his eyes. He was looking a little green, and she wondered errantly if perhaps he’d be scraped by a car while crossing the street. She herself, however, was at a solid 15%, which was a little higher than her standard measurements, but nothing out of the ordinary or concerning. Perhaps she would break a finger, sprain her ankle, crack a tooth on a Nuka-Cola bottle.

She appreciated the extra air of danger.

Life in Sanctuary was beautifully but painfully dull, less dull now that there was a child in the house, but dull nonetheless. Now, the stale quiet that usually settled over the house in the afternoon was permeated by the frequent cries and laughs of the child and the exclamations of their brand new housekeeper, who thought the child was a marvel of modern science.

He was, at the very moment his parents were eating breakfast, sleeping in his crib in the back room, the powder blue of his walls shielding him like a personal sky as he went completely unaware of everyone around him. He had the enviable manner of a child, crying whenever he felt a slight discomfort, laughing at the simplest of things.

She wished sometimes she could burst into tears just because she was hungry, or weep at the thought of being sleepy. It had been so long since someone had properly addressed her humanity that she thought if someone held her against their chest, she’d fall asleep, just like the child did at night when she rocked him.

“Mum,” Codsworth chirped as he hovered into the kitchen with a wet rag in one hand and a rattle in the other.

“Morning, Codsworth,” she replied with a mouth full of cereal. She, unlike Nate, was not too good for Sugar Bombs, and if they were implanting Communist Tracking Chips into her brain, well, that was a risk she was going to have to take. As long as she was the one who had to do the grocery shopping, she was not going to deny herself the simple pleasure of marshmallow cereal.

“Young Shaun should be asleep for approximately the next two hours.”

“Thank you, Codsworth.”

Nora loved Codsworth. There were days when she thought of him more as a husband than Nate. Codsworth, in his thrumming metallic voice, asked her everyday how she was feeling. Nate sometimes quirked his brow at her, and she nodded in response, but their marital conversation was frustratingly dry.

Like Sugar Bombs without milk.

Chip Harris was grandstanding on the news, and his thick croon filled the background of the house with a pleasant sort of domestic white noise along with the gentle clink of her silverware and the crinkling of Nate’s paper. She tuned her ears for a moment to Chip’s voice as he read from a teleprompter about some new information about China’s secret nuclear plants.

Everyone has nukes nowadays, she thought bitterly. Her Sugar Bombs were now soggy. Why are we allowed to hide them, but China has to send us a report or else we accuse them of some kind of crime?

She absentmindedly wondered if having a crush on the newscaster might turn her into more of a nuclear housewife. She knew Natalie Hawthorne had a crush on Chip Harris. She watched him every morning, even had a signed picture of him that she kept in her nightstand. Mr. Hawthorne was fine with it, of course, because no one in Sanctuary Hills could even prove that Chip Harris was real. No one could prove that he wasn’t just an incredibly advanced Protectron— a Mr. Handy in a pinstripe suit. Mr. Hawthorne didn’t have to worry about Chip Harris stealing his wife.

A knock on the door broke Nora’s concentration.

“Must be that sales guy,” Nate intoned, obviously bored senseless by the notion of a salesman at the door. “He’s been asking for you all morning.”

“All morning? I didn’t even hear him knock before now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you sleep until 9 AM.”

Thank you, Nora, for staying up until the Devil’s Ass-Crack of dawn comforting a weeping child. Thank you for feeding him while I put earplugs in and turned over to the cold side of the pillow so I could go back to sleep. I answered the door for you, and the salesman gave me a free ticket to Fuck-Off-Ville, and I’m taking the child with me. You and Codsworth have fun now!

A woman could dream.

The salesman at the door was a weasel-looking fellow with an awfully mustardy-colored coat and matching hat. His smile seemed like it might be genuine, but based on the wrinkles that beamed from the corners of his eyes, it seemed he was well-versed in faking a good smile.

“Good afternoon, Ma���am! I am glad you took the time to answer the door today, because what I am about to tell you is a matter of utmost importance,” he promised, his smile somehow extended as he emphasized utmost importance.

“Utmost importance, huh? Glad I answered the door, then.”

“As you should be. Because of your family’s service in the military, you are eligible for entrance into the local vault— Vault 111!”

She eyed him warily before glancing up towards the hill at the end of the cul-de-sac. She had remembered the day Vault-Tec had started construction into the hillside, promising the neighborhood that “We won’t work until 9 AM, we’ll be gone in a flash, and you and your family will soon be protected in the unlikely event of total atomic annihilation!”

She didn’t buy the working until 9 AM part, she was skeptical about them being gone in a flash, and she hadn’t taken the time to assess the thought of total atomic annihilation. That was something that happened to people in the movies, or on radio shows, not in Sanctuary Hills. Total atomic annihilation might actually spice up her life, if it deigned to come close to Sanctuary Hills.

“Thanks,” she mentioned passively, ignoring the clipboard that was slowly being edged towards her. “My family too?”

“Yes, of course! Except the robot, mind you. Would you mind taking a few moments to fill out some paperwork?”

Nora turned her head to eye the situation inside the house before accepting the clipboard. If the salesman had knocked before, there was no reason to send him away then. He was working hard, and she appreciated the thought if not the persistence.

“Excellent! Now you and your family are… Prepared for the Future!”

She gave a half-hearted laugh at the way he performed his reading of the motto— the Vault-Tec promise that had been broadcasted via billboard all over every cityscape and neighborhood nearby. If total atomic annihilation never came around, Vault-Tec was sure going to look foolish.

She shut the door and sauntered back over to the breakfast table, but just as she sat down, a cry rang through the house. Shaun was awake, and Nate was eyeing her above the folded edge of his paper.

“Mum!” Codsworth chirped once again, hovering back into the kitchen. “Young Shaun seems to be inconsolable. Would you mind using some of that… maternal instinct you seem to be so good at?”

“Sure, Codsworth. Thank you.”

Once the door was closed in Shaun’s little room, she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. True, she had not liked the child at first, but he was growing on her, and she appreciated the fact that he had to listen to everything she said without commentary or judgement.

“You might be unsure now, but once that beautiful baby boy is handed to you in a pretty blue blanket, you’ll love him more than you’ve ever loved anything,” Natalie Hawthorne had told her at the baby shower in a moment of vulnerability. Nora had escaped the Hawthorne’s living room to cry in their bathroom, marking it up to hormones at first, but the second she looked in the mirror and saw that damned stomach of hers, the crying got worse. Natalie stumbled into the bathroom by accident, catching Nora in the midst of a coughing fit.

So, Nora waited until Shaun was born, and when the nurse handed him to her, she stared at him and felt absolutely nothing. But she cooed and tickled his tiny feet, promising to herself that if she could just get the child home, maybe it would get better. Maybe it was the anesthetic and the drugs that made her so emotionless. It wasn’t.

It was the fact that she hadn’t wanted a child at all, the fact that she hadn’t even really wanted a husband, but her parents had set her up with some soldier boy, fresh out of a set of power armor, and that was that. She would marry Nate because it was what she was supposed to do, not because she had fallen in love.

She adjusted Shaun’s cap before scooping him into her arms.

“What do you have to cry about?” She muttered to the child. “You don’t have to pay taxes. You’re not going to have to wear heels and go grocery shopping and attend baby showers. You’re going to play catch in the backyard with your father, and then one day, some girl will marry you because she has to. You’re set for life, little buddy.”

Shaun merely gargled something, his hands grabbing for her hair. He was like a partially-sentient diary. She would pile her troubles on him, and he would go, “Ah!” And then go back to sleep.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today,” Nate remarked as he stepped into the nursery. “Would you be interested?”

“Sure, sure. Might be nice to get some fresh air.” She had intended to say more, perhaps something about finishing her Halloween preparations, but when she turned to him, she saw his eyes fully for the first time that day, and Shaun nearly slipped from her grasp.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Nate took the child from her arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just… are you feeling alright?”

“Fine. You look pale, though. Maybe it’s all that Chinese Cereal.”

She chuckled despite herself and maintained eye contact with as much focus as she could muster. His eyes were near fully green. She was sure it was nothing. It had to be nothing. They were going for a walk in the park, and besides, her percentage was still standing at a solid 15%. It was nothing.

But Chip Harris knew more than she did, and when Codsworth called them all into the living room, Chip Harris was, for the first time on the air, misty-eyed. His head was in his hands, the morning report discarded as he faced the camera with shaking eyes.

“Shit,” Nora whispered, and Nate scolded her for her foul mouth. “Sorry, I just… is this it?”

“I think this is it.”

“Whatever it is, I will certainly miss you all dearly. Sir, Mum, Young Shaun. I believe this is goodbye.”

Codsworth’s goodbye started her heart thrumming at an unbelievable pace, and she kicked into gear, sweeping herself up from the loveseat and rushing towards the door, ushering Nate and Shaun behind her.

This was it. This was the end of the world, but it wasn’t going to kill her.

[maatryoshkaa]

Stray Kids as Roommates | Thread

some roommates-to-lovers fluff coming at you!

Bang Chan

You guys are the pair that n e v e r sleep

Turned his room into a home studio; probably would have thrown out his bed and turned his room into an office if you hadn’t stopped him

You often fall asleep to the sound of his humming and tracks muffled through your bedroom wall

You see the most of him during exam season, while pulling all nighters

He’s always in the kitchen making his 14th cup of coffee when you get up to go to the bathroom at 3 am

Lots of deep, meaningful conversations over late night snacks

You swear you’ve heard him talking to his Goku figurines during the unearthly hours of the morning

You’re the only one Chan lets ruffle his fluffy dandelion bedhead in the morning

Takes care of you more than he takes care of himself

Always asks you how your day went when you get home and insists on listening even when he’s been awake for over 48 hours

Always there to give you advice and comfort you when you’re feeling down! A living breathing mental health hotline

Walked into your room when you were studying for finals at 2am

You were in your pajamas, hair a mess and eyes barely open

And that was when Bang Chan decided he was in love with you

Ah, the couple with matching bags under their eyes.

☽ Read the rest of the boys under this cut! 

Woojin

Fried chicken takeout for dinner is a big Friday night thing

Kind of like a big moral support teddy bear, his hugs are the greatest

You steal half his closet in the winter because his hoodies are the comfiest

Literally the dad of your household

Checks up on your health and how you’re doing every now and then

Pushes you to finish your work and makes sure you’re not procrastinating

Honestly, your grades are soaring thanks to him

Helps you with homework

Your parents love him

Always saves and brings you good things to eat

Tucks you in at night when you can’t sleep nyahh i’m soft

And a couple times, when you wake up shaking from nightmares, homesickness or stress, he’s always there to comfort you, lying there until you fall asleep again.

“Woojin?”

“Yeah? Shh, don’t worry, I’m here.”

You always sit outside the bathroom and listen to him sing in the shower

Until he suddenly opened the door in nothing but a towel and you couldn’t face him for weeks

He thought your furiously blushing face was the cutest thing he’d ever seen and teased you about it, 

Until you finally kissed him to make him shut up

Hint: it worked wonders.

Minho

Saturday night dance battles are a t h i n g

Doesn’t do any chores unless he notices you’re feeling tired

Tried to cook once and probably accidentally gave the both of you food poisoning

Remember when he cooked rice cakes in the unwashed metal pan I’m--

Likes you a lot more than he lets on

Like, you’d mention craving a certain food or not having saved up enough money for something, and voila, the next day it’d be sitting on the kitchen table.

“What? It was on sale, just lying around. Don’t think too much of it.”

Clowns you for every little thing, but the moment he hears someone make fun of you, it’s on sight

Bicker like an old married couple, lots of back and forth catfights

Evenings falling asleep on the sofa, both tipsy and giggling while his two cats snuggle up around you

Arguing over who the cats love more

Endless crackhead antics; the neighbours probably hate you

Insists on walking his cats around the apartment complex, when in reality he just wants to spend more time with you

Everyone already knows you’re basically dating but you’re both too stubborn to admit it

Probably hooked up once or twice, or more than once or twice ;)

Changbin

Honestly when you first got him as your roommate, you were terrified

Because this 5’6 ball of dark is intimidating as frick

Realized how soft he really was when he whipped out his Munchlax plushie

Petty arguments with him are impossible because he speaks so fast

So you just let him win

Makes you kill the spider

Always manages to convince you to watch horror movies at 1 am

Probably as an excuse to have you in his arms if you get scared ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) he thinks he’s slick

Perfected the “stretch and put his arm around your shoulder” move

Made a special playlist for everything you do together: good vibes for breakfast, upbeat jams when doing the chores together, chill indie mixes for cozy evenings in doing work

Insists on helping you around the house

Bringing you fresh ice coffee, cookies, and convenience store hauls whenever he gets off work

“B-but the Peperos were on a buy one get one free sale 👉👈”

Suggests playing the pocky/pepero kiss game to which you smack him in response

But you end up giving him a quick peck anyways, and he freezes, stunned

You run off, face red, Changbin chasing after to you with a wicked grin

“What was that? Is that buy one get one, too, because I want another oneeee!”

Hyunjin

The chillest roommate, but when he gets hyper oh m y

I ain’t gettin no sleep cos of y’all, y’all not gettin sleep cos of me

You have to wake him on the weekends because this boy would sleep until the evening

You want to let him rest, though, since he’s always out and working so late ;(

Secretly takes so many candid, soft pictures of you and saves them as his wallpaper

Loves to take you shopping and dress the both of you in matching #OOTDs

Hypes you the heck up

“She’s sister snatched today! Skin glowing, outfit on point -- oh look at that SMILE! Do the thing again -- oh my gosh. You’re killing it, y/n!”

Gives you fashion advice and beauty tips, although you keep bugging him for his skincare routine cuz damn

Probably share skincare products

Always do face masks together but fail at keeping them on because the two of you keep laughing at the stupidest things

Sometimes he has to put you to bed when he comes home late, and you’ve fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to get back

Can’t resist kissing your forehead sometimes when tucking you in

At moments like these, he finds himself wishing for a sliver of a chance that you might feel the same way he has

He’s honestly so damn obvious though, getting you matching “roommate” things when he goes out -- plushies that remind him of you, little snacks when you’re down, cute accessories, you name it

This boy also forgets that he talks in his sleep -- and is very hard to wake up

So one morning, you’re leaning over his bed, about to shake him awake, and hear him mumble

“y/n, y/n, y/n...i like you sooo much...what do i do?”

You nearly choke on your toast, effectively waking the boy up, and he stares at you, half-awake and mortified.

“What? Did I--did I say something in my sleep?”

The smug, blushing smile spreading over your face is enough to send him diving back under the covers as you begin to tease him

Jisung

So comfortable to be around, he’s basically your best friend from day 1

Except for the fact that he’s so. Damn. LOUD

Noise complaints filed from the neighbours, the landlord, the neighbour’s dog, you name it

Another soft bean whose bedhead you love to ruffle

I mean have you seen My Pace dance practice? That boys mane has a mind of its own--

Brings you lots of cakes and pastries from cute bakeries when you’re stressed

A responsible boi™ ! always helps you out around the house.

Grocery shopping together? What a concept

Except he piles the cart with chips and snacks when he thinks you’re not looking

Lots of late nights binging movies on Netflix

This boy loves moves

But he loves them even more when he watches them with you ;D

Afterwards, you’re both too lazy and comfortable to move, so you end up falling asleep cuddled up against each other

Always runs away and hides when you ask to see his songs

You find scraps of hastily scribbled lyrics and ideas strewn around the house all the time

Little phrases like “i think i love you” and “my heart beats impossibly fast when i’m with you”

So you manage to collect enough to bring them to him and tease him about it

Jisung gets all quiet, though, instead of whining like he usually does, and you quickly apologise, thinking you’ve gone too far

You reassure him his writing is amazing

“It’s not that.”

He finally looks you in the eye, the intensity of his stare making your heart stop for a moment.

“They’re about you.”

Oh, how the turn tables.

Felix

i hate him sm, blease

Why did you even agree to room with him

Rooming with Felix is a one way trip to insanity -- we going ✈️✈️ acid trip

You can hear him yelling yeets and yeehaws when he plays Fortnite while you do your homework, and you swear you’re t h i s close to putting his head straight through his screen

Video game marathons when you’re not busy though, you have to admit, are the bomb

Probably convinced you to make TikToks with him

Makes you do all the viral challenges, including the couple trends

Honestly the most fun guy to be around ever

Your daily dose of memes and sugar

Knows when to be down to earth and serious, though!

Gives the best massages when you’re overworked and runs you a bath, promptly ordering your favourite takeout and making sure to feed you

Building pillow forts together on rainy days and snow days, and having sleepovers!

Binging vine compilations together during said sleepovers

Sending each other memes at 1 am when you’re both simultaneously procrastinating on homework

You basically became a couple without really going through the confession stage; it just sort of happened

“Hey, ‘lix?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I think I kinda like you.”

A sideways smirk. “Well, yeah, you’ve dealt with me for this long.”

The best-friends couple: soulmates, and, more importantly, partners in crime vine

Seungmin

Sweetest roommate!! Honestly you feel bad for even asking him to do chores

Has a bit of an evil side, though

One second he’s flashing you an angelic smile, the next he’s roasting you for your selfie skills on your recent Instagram post

You make one (1) complaint about the living room being messy, next thing you know you wake up and it’s spick and span

Cooks?? Really hecking well?

Sometimes you wonder if you signed up for a roommate or a housekeeper

Your apartment is so clean

Taking evening strolls together after dinner and taking pictures at the park

Walks you to and from work/school like a little puppy, and gets anxious if you’re late coming home

Doesn’t know how to show how much he cares about you and gets frustrated with himself

So he indulges in the little things, like packing you cute little lunches with sticky notes on the containers

Little notes around the house on days he stays out working late, like make sure you’re eating! And don’t sleep too late!

Honestly, you fell for him the moment he first smiled at you

Once, he was working overtime nonstop, and you didn’t get to see him for over two weeks

When he finally came home on time, you couldn’t help tackling him in a big bear hug

After he got over his initial heartbeat racing a thousand miles per hour, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, hugging you back tightly

No words were needed, you missed each other’s presence so much, it seemed to say itself

I love you, and I missed you.

Jeongin

Is this boy even old enough to rent out a room? He is babie

So incredibly shy when he first meets you, but warms up quickly

Owns animal-printed pajamas and onesies

You both had a mini celebration when he got his braces off, complete with banana milk and animal crackers

You are both babie

An early bird, always wakes up before you

You wake up to him shaking you and laughing at your scrunched up face

“Wake uuppp, y/n, you’re going to be so late!”

“Ergghhhh.”

Can’t clean to save his life; always ends up breaking something or knocking things over

So he’s in charge of doing the laundry

Had a fat mental breakdown when he realised that meant your underwear

Your apartment is littered with figurines and plushies that both of you collect and don’t have the heart to clean out

“Jeongin, where are y----” you stop. “Why are you lying face down on the ground?”

“...we’re out of banana milk.”

Another hidden evil bean who clowns you for everything you do once he warms up to you

Baby boy!Jeongin switches to Savage!Jeongin in a matter of seconds

Also makes you kill the spider

Helps you cook, but only if you tell him how to do everything or he’ll freak out

Putting mukbang channels on the TV while eating together and watching in comfortable silence

Loves watching you eat and has a million derpy pictures of you saved on his phone

Poor boy has no idea how to tell you he’s falling head over heels with you

Accidentally blurts out “I like you” during a screaming contest

Lots, I mean LOTS of awkward laughing as Jeongin feels his face heat up, watching yours do the same

The longest moment passes, and Jeongin is getting ready to disassociate when you’re finally able to open your mouth and scream back,

“I like you, too!”

Baby boy found his soulmate.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

LIFE IS A CHANGING WORLD

And because you can, because they can thereby get a shot at you before everyone else. Not because it's causing economic inequality, but because the principles underlying the most dynamic part of the reason I laughed so much at the talk by the good speaker at that conference was that everyone else did. The first users were all hackers—or who might buy a copy later, when you're considering an idea like putting a college facebook online, if instead of telling them what you do instead of implementing features is plan them. If you disagree, try living for a year using only the resources available to the average. Any investor who spent significant time deciding probably came close to saying yes.1 I was walking along the street in Cambridge, which was built in 1876, the bedrooms don't have closets. This isn't quite true. Inexperience there doesn't make you unattractive. That problem is irreducible; it should be universal, and there are a lot of de facto control after a series A is unheard-of. And that should be unlimited, if the upside looks good enough.

But more than half done. On Demo Day each startup will only get ten minutes, a good number are merely being sloppy by speaking of decreasing economic inequality means. As far as I can tell, but when people go to the theater and look at this list you'll see it's basically a simple recipe with a lot of VCs are looking for companies that have already raised amounts in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. When a man runs off with his secretary, is it always partly his wife's fault? Preferably with other students. Back when he was looking at the floor.2 And it applies to startups too. When I talk to people who've managed to make themselves rich.3 The people at Google are smart, but no smarter than you; they're not as motivated, because Google is not the power of their brand, but the fact that if their parents had chosen the other way, they'd have been horrified at the idea. And since that's the default opinion of any investor about any startup, they've essentially just told you nothing.4 After thinking about it gives me a jolt of adrenaline, years later. Empirically it seems to consume all your attention.

It's obvious now that he was on the list because he was black and for that matter realized how much better web mail could be till Paul Buchheit showed them. The best thing software can be is easy, but it's worth trying. One place this happens is in startups. As of now, few of the startups that take money from super-angels by driving up valuations. You'd also have a very boring life. The average startup probably doesn't have much to show for itself after ten weeks. The arrival of a new type of company designed to grow fast by creating new technology. Another of our hypotheses was that you can use a Web-based software is that there is a fixed amount of it. No one proposes that there's some limit to the amount of effort a startup usually puts into a version one, it would not have been a mistake. Even if something was going to die till I was about 19. When you release only one new version a year, in January and June.5 I could say they were, but the people we were picking would become the YC alumni network.

There are no meetings or, God forbid, corporate retreats or team-building exercises. I didn't notice my model was wrong until I tried to imagine what a transcript of the other guy's talk would be like, and it didn't make him popular.6 Not intelligence—determination.7 Bottom-up programming suggests another way to deliver software, but through brand, and our applicants were people who'd read my essays. Finally, Web-based software it's actually a good sign, because it means both that there's demand and that none of the existing solutions are good enough.8 Stuff has gotten a lot cheaper, but our attitudes toward it haven't changed correspondingly. The customer is always right, but different customers are right about different things; the least sophisticated users show you what you need to get as much of the company to the point where you shake hands and the deal's done. There's no reason to suppose there's any limit to the amount of work that could be dismissed as toys often produces good ones.

Among other things, incubators usually make you work in their office—that's where the word incubator comes from.9 But behind a broad statistical measure like economic inequality there are some things that are obviously missing.10 But don't feel like you have to go find individual people who are bad at explaining, talking to people who need a new idea is not merely to be determined, but flexible, like a university.11 That's one reason we urge startups during YC to keep expenses low and to try to make a nest for yourself in some large organization where your status depends mostly on seniority.12 Which is why it's good to have the upper hand over investors.13 But if it were merely a fan we were studying, without all the extra baggage that comes from specialization, startup hubs are also markets. The toolmakers would have users, but also as a match for his skills. The great fortunes of that time still derived more from what we would now call corruption than from commerce.14 They're the ones that matter anyway. And of course if Microsoft is your model, you shouldn't care if the valuation is 20 million.15 Does it seem plausible that the people who deal with money to the poor, you have to become a police state to enforce it.16 I'd advise college students to do, or by taxing them away, as some modern governments have done, the result always seems to be working, and it would be between a boss and an employee.

Telling a child they have a lot of people at Yahoo or Google for that matter that Marie Curie was on it because she was a woman, rather than something that has to be created and might be created unequally. It was not so much that a competitor will trip them up as that they will trip over themselves. Not well, perhaps, but well enough.17 Of course, server-based. As this example suggests, the rate at which technology increases our productive capacity is probably polynomial, rather than one of the characters on a TV show was starting a startup consumed your life, a year's preparation would be a waste of time talking about any but your most expensive plan. The people who really care will find what they want by themselves. Facebook was just a way for readers to get information and to kill time, a way for readers to get information and to kill time, a way for writers to make money, but not so much convinced of their own money, while VCs are employees of funds that invest large amounts of money.18

Notes

Founders rightly dislike the sort of community.

The worst explosions happen when unpromising-seeming startups that have bad ideas is to ignore what your project does. Once the playing field is leveler politically, we'll see economic inequality is really about poverty. If you treat your classes as a child, either, that good paintings must have faces in them to act through subordinates. Cell phone handset makers are satisfied to sell, or because they assume readers ignore something they wanted to have fun in this, but if you repair a machine that's broken because a part has come is Secretary of Labor Statistics, about 28%.

I used to place orders.

In fairness, I mean type I. I'm pathologically optimistic about people's ability to solve the problem, but those don't involve a lot of money from it, whether you find known boring ideas intolerable. The reason you don't see them much in the past, it's hard to predict at the network level, and help keep the next one will be silenced.

Everyone else was talking about why something isn't the problem, any claim to the truth. Many more than you expect. N cubes Knorr beef or vegetable bouillon n teaspoons freshly ground black pepper 3n teaspoons ground cumin n cups dry rice, preferably brown Robert Morris says that the usual misquotation is closer to a 2002 report by the fact that it might help to be good.

But startups are now.

Its retail price is about 220,000 legitimate emails.

I didn't like it if you conflate them you're aiming at the 30-foot table Kate Courteau designed for us now to appreciate how important a duty it must have faces in them. It requires the kind that prevents you from starving. When I use the name of a running back doesn't translate to soccer. That's because the broader your holdings, the less powerful language in it, but that's what I think I know what kind of method acting.

Though in a wide variety of situations. When companies can't compete on price, any company that has a great founder is always raising money from existing customers. Maybe it would be just as he or she would be to say for sure whether, e.

If they agreed among themselves never to do it.

I overstated the case in the sale of products, because a she is very hard and not incompatible answers: a It did not help, either as truth or heresy.

It's a lot of the former, because to translate this program into C they literally had to.

It seemed better to make more money. I encountered when we say it's ipso facto right to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to represent anything. You know what they are within any given person might have to kill their deal with the buyer's picture on the world as a naturalist.

You know what they too were feeling in 1914.

We didn't swing for the next round. Apparently someone believed you have two choices, choose the harder. Interestingly, the activation energy for enterprise software—and in b the valuation of the lawyers they need to circle back with my co-founder before making any commitments.

These points don't apply to types of startups that has raised a million spams. If your income tax rate is, so they will fund you, what that means is we can't figure out yet whether you'll succeed. I still shiver to recall.

Hint: the editor in Lisp. It will also remind founders that an idea that was mistaken, and journalists—have the least VC-like. However bad your classes as a single cause. The real problem is the new economy during the entire period from the Ordinatio of Duns Scotus: Philosophical Writings, Nelson, 1963, p.

When Google adopted Don't be fooled. The hackers within Microsoft must know in the mid 20th century. And if you hadn't written it?

[happyumbrellla]

Snk:Mafia!Omegaverse : Chap 1

Chapter 1 : Reality

 Eight months ago, Grisha and Carla Jaëger were killed in a serious car accident. The driver of the vehicle responsible for the accident had fled and the police had not found him. Their two children, Eren and Mikasa, only 18 years old, were left alone. The family of their best friend, Armin Arlet, had welcomed them while they climbed the slope and to help them manage the necessary legal procedures. But even with their help and support, it was a long and painful journey for the last Jaëgers.

The determination of the two teenagers had allowed them to quickly pull themselves together to get out of it. With their savings, the money from the sale of their old house, which they could not keep, and the inheritance of their parents, they had bought a small apartment, above a closed tea salon, to free the Arlets from their presence and to make a new start. Mikasa had found a job in a small company nearby as an archive assistant, while Eren had been hired as a cashier in a nearby convenience store.

 As the weeks went by, the young man quickly realized that the neighborhood was the business district and that the businessmen were always stressed and in a hurry. Then Eren had the idea to buy the premises under their apartment to open a tea salon. Carla dreamed of opening one and Eren had always loved getting lost in the multitude of perfumes they offered. He had told Mikasa and they decided to try the adventure. His sister took over the negotiations and they managed to get the premises for a decent price. With the help of their friends, they restored the interior of the place and furnished it to give it a peaceful atmosphere. Eren set up contracts with tea producers and started cooking to offer a different pastry every day. They promoted it as much as possible before the opening and when D-Day came, Eren and Mikasa didn't think they had as many people.

 The first months were difficult in terms of organization, but not in terms of clientele. There were always people in the tea salon. If Eren swam in full happiness, it was not the case of his sister:

-You should resume your training at the police academy, had finally declared one evening the brown boy.

Mikasa had looked at him with big eyes:

        -What are you talking about?

        -I can see you're not happy working here. We have some money on the side, the tea salon is working well. You can take money to pay for your training. I know that being a cop was always your dream. It's time you realized that, don't you think?

She remained silent for a moment, thinking, before saying:

        -And who’s gonna protect you?

Eren smiles. Mikasa was an Alpha, her presence, her pheromones and her combat skills deterred anyone from making a single wrong move. And it was her smell, in addition to the teas, that camouflaged the sweet smell of Omega that Eren wore. He thus passed for a Beta, the middle class and the most current of the current society. And it suited him just fine. Betas were not affected by Omega pheromones. Only the Alphas were, and they didn't have that many. As for the Omegas, they were even rarer than the Alphas. Because of their rarity, they were considered treasures to be venerated by some and as simple luxury goods for Alphas by others. Not knowing people's thoughts about the Omegas, Eren would mask his scent to be quiet:

        -I can defend myself. Besides, nobody knows I’m an Omega. I won’t risk anything. Worst-case scenario, I’ll call you.

After long discussions, Eren had managed to convince his sister to resume her training. Mikasa therefore started classes again in September and the Omega found himself having to manage the tea salon alone. But he didn't mind, quite the contrary. He was having the time of his life. And at least he was gradually leaving behind his anger towards the murderer of his parents’ who was still running.

 Eren had been managing the salon for three months already, he had started to spot regulars and he had his favourite. A more than regular customer since he came 2 to 3 times a day and who did not pass unnoticed when he entered the tea salon. Why? Because the man, about six feet tall, with black hair, white skin, steel eyes, was an Alpha whose pheromones pushed everyone to submission. And his constant icy air only encouraged flight. Eren, being an Omega, was largely affected by such dominant pheromones, but he managed to forget them by opening a tea box and inhaling to the lungs. What he could not erase with tea, however, was the fact that he was very attracted to the other man's great cold beauty.

Eren was getting ready to open the salon when Mikasa crossed it to go to class:

        -In case of trouble, you call me.

        -Promise. Don’t worry about it. I got this.

It was a fact, he could take care of himself now. His sister kissed his cheek before she left. The brown one put water to boil before going to turn over the sign to announce that the salon was officially open. Hardly was he behind the counter again when the little bell of the door rang. Eren knew exactly who he was and unconsciously he started to smile:

        -Hello brat.

        -Hello ancestor.

It was their way of greeting each other, but Eren almost choked when he saw the dark man’s lips stretch into a sort of amused grin:

        -Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy morning client?

The Alpha sighed as he came into contact with the counter. Eren's smile grew bigger, the Alpha had come alone today, no strangers, nor the 2 men who regularly accompanied him, which meant that the young man had all the attention of the man. And having the attention of such an Alpha was exciting and slightly scary:

        -A black tea?

        -Yes.

        -Orange, peach and almond?

        -Yes.

        -A bakery with it?

        -The one you think is best for tea.

        -All right. So…

        -Surprise me, don’t tell me.

Eren raised an eyebrow:

        -All right. I’ll let you get settled in.

        -Thank you.

The businessman, Eren, had no doubt that he was one of them by his superb tailor-made suits, went to sit at his usual table, the one in the right corner from where one could see the whole salon, without being particularly visible. The brown one took out a pretty white and black cup, put it on the counter, next to a small assorted plate in which he deposited a part of brioche with pralines. He was proud to have done it. He prepared the small tea bag from his order, filled the cup with boiling water and placed it inside. Eren took the cup and plate and dropped them off in front of his first customer of the day:

        -Four minutes for the tea. The brioche with pralines was made this morning. This is the first time I’ve done it. Could you tell me what you think, please?

        -Hum.

The dark man hadn’t looked up from his phone. Eren didn't really get upset, he was used to it. He went back behind the counter and put some water back to the boil. The boiler regulated itself to stop heating as soon as the water was boiling and reactivate itself when it cooled too much. The Omega moved to respond as quickly as possible to orders from customers who arrived as they went along.

By 10:30 the rush had passed and Eren was able to clean the few tables that had been occupied. When he turned to the table the Alpha had occupied, he pouted when he saw it empty. Eren had not seen him leave and he was disappointed that the businessman did not tell him what he had thought of his praline brioche. But his pout disappeared quite quickly when he noticed words written on a wrinkle-free paper towel:

 « The brioche with pralines was delicious and accompanied the tea very well. That was a very good choice brat. See you tonight. Levi. »

 Eren couldn't help but smile. He cherished every new piece of information he learned about the dark Alpha. And today was a great day because he knew the beautiful Alpha's name; Levi.

 The Omega closed for an hour for lunch before returning to the salon for the afternoon. The activity was calmer in the afternoon, which allowed Eren to prepare the next day's service and in particular to look for a recipe for the day's pastries. He had to find one preferably before 5pm so that he could place an order with Mikasa who would go to the supermarket before returning from college. The brown one chose a recipe for milk chocolate muffins. So he sent a list of the ingredients he needed to his sister, not without adding a few extra ingredients to vary the muffin flavors. Once this was done, the Omega brought all its attention to the tea room. There weren't many people at that time, it wasn't 4:00 yet. But as soon as the clock showed 4:00, the employees of the surrounding companies would come for a break. With any luck, Levi would be among them. Even though Levi's Alpha aura intimidated him, he loved their strange exchanges.

 Needless to say, the young man was disappointed not to see the Alpha for a "snack", but was happy to see his sister back with 4 full plastic bags:

        -I found everything you asked for.

        -Thank you.

        -Armin and the others are asking if you want to come over tonight for a drink at the bar near campus?

        -What time?

        -8:00?

        -All right. If we don’t get back home too late.

        -Don’t worry. I get up early tomorrow.

Mikasa went upstairs to put all this stuff in the kitchen of their apartment since that's where Eren made all his preparations. The Omega decided to close a little early to have time to make the muffins for tomorrow before going out with his friends. He was about to turn the sign at the door when it opened on Levi:

        -Hello brat.

        -Hello ancestor.

Eren let him in and turned the sign right behind him:

        -You close early tonight…

        -Exceptionally yes. But I’ll take your order anyway.

        -I expected nothing less. I’ll have a black tea with orange.

        -It’s noted.

        -To go. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your exceptional premature closure.

        -You can stay, I’m in no hurry.

        -If you want.

Levi sat at his usual table while Eren made his tea. He placed the cup in front of him:

        -Five minutes of infusion.

        -All right.

The brown one was happy to see that, for once, the Alpha was watching him. A long shiver ran Eren’s back. Those eyes were... Beautiful. The Omega pulled himself together, straightened himself up and activated the automatic closing of the shutters before doing a little cleaning while waiting for his client to finish. And the latter was not taking his time as usual, he was in a hurry. He got lost in his thoughts and jumped when Levi put his cup on the counter. A fine amused smile stretched the Alpha's lips:

-I didn’t mean to scare you.

-It’s… It’s okay. Are you finished?

-Yes. I let you lock up behind me?

-Yes.

Eren escorted his favorite client to the door and opened it:

        -Thank you… For letting me in.

        -No problem.

        -Have a good night.

        -Thank you. You too.

The Alpha nodded before moving away, first backwards, then in the normal direction of walk. Eren gently closed the door and sighed. That man was handsome! Too beautiful even! It was not a good thing that they stayed alone in the same room, because one day Eren wasn't going to control himself and let his Omega pheromones get into the Alpha's nose, and it would be the end of him. The brown one shook his head before going upstairs, to the kitchen more precisely to prepare his muffin batter and let it rest overnight before baking them first thing in the morning. Then he changed for the evening to come. He needed to relax and find his friends was the best way to do that.

 It was Jean who had found them this bar where they met as often as possible. Besides, he was already there, with her boyfriend, Marco. And the rest of their group, Connie, Sasha, Ymir, Historia and Armin. Eren loved his group because he had had the chance to meet another Omega, Marco. The two teenagers had become very close thanks to their extremely rare nature and they were protected by the group's only Alpha, Mikasa, and by Jean, who despite his Beta nature, had a strong character. If Eren and Jean did not always get along, they did their best not to let their arguments influence the rest of the group too much. Eren had a very good evening, far from imagining that his whole life would soon change again.

 As the days passed, Levi came alone more often around 6:30 pm. He had become the last client Eren served before closing. And thanks to the fact that they were often alone, they were able to start talking... A little. And Eren was happy with their exchanges, even if they weren't as full as the ones the Omega had with his friends. The brown boy had learned that Levi worked for a large company and held a position of responsibility. Eren was even more impressed with the Alpha.

 That night, Eren was putting the tea shelf away so it would be ready for tomorrow's service when the front door bell rang. Eren's nose told him that the two people who had just entered were Betas. When he turned around, he could see that they were tall, muscular, dressed in black and tattooed. Eren couldn't help but be a little scared:

        -The tea salon is closed gentlemen.

        -We know. We’re not here for tea.

The Omega swallowed. His instincts told him these people were dangerous. And he was right. The next second, one of them was pointing a gun at him. The brown one immediately raised his hands:

        -Don’t move and everything will be fine.

Eren swallowed but did not move an inch. Why did this have to happen one of the few nights Mikasa was on night patrol? The second turned his attention to Levi, who was now wearing black leather gloves. Why was he wearing gloves? :

        -I can't believe we're gonna be able to shoot the famous Survey Corps executor that easily. You've made it a lot easier for us by visiting this place regularly and unescorted most of the time. I'm even a little disappointed at how easy it is...

The brown one can easily see the Alpha's lips stretching into an amused and unhealthy smile:

        -Do you think so?

The rest happened very quickly. The dark-haired man drew a weapon and shot the first Beta. The second turned his weapon towards Levi and Eren took the opportunity to stoop behind the counter in search of protection. His whole body was shaking. Why the hell did this have to happen to him? He heard a gunshot followed by a heavy fall and it didn't take him long to understand that it was a body that had just touched the ground. But whose body? Eren closed his eyes as tightly as he could as he heard noises of footsteps approaching him. His heart was pounding in his chest as his breathing became more and more difficult. He was going to die... Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, he opened his eyes suddenly and shouted with terror. A scream that was quickly smothered by a hand... Levi's hand. It was almost instinctively that the Omega relaxed a little. Levi was alive and most likely had just saved his life:

        -Don’t scream.

The tone used was commanding, a real Alpha tone. And the Omega had no choice but to obey. Levi's eyes were even more beautiful up close. But his brain did not allow him to contemplate them for very long without fear... He shouted "Danger" to him while his instinct shouted "Security" and made him snuggle a little more against the Alpha's hand. A long shiver of anguish ran down his spine when his senses recorded the contact of the leather against his skin. Levi had killed those men... Was he going to kill him too? What was he gonna do to her? He said Survey Corps, was that the name of the company he worked for? Levi didn't take his eyes off Eren when he picked up his phone:

        -…Erd, I need an intensive cleaning at the tea salon where I go every day, bring Gunther and Auruo.

And he hung up:

        -Stay still, I’ll take care of the situation.

The brown one was unable to answer or move, paralyzed by fear and shock:

        -If I let you go, will you scream?

Eren shook his head negatively as gently as possible. His sister had told him that if there was an imminent threat, you shouldn't make sudden moves:

        -Good.

The Alpha slowly removed his hand from the face of the Omega before sitting next to him and drawing him against his body. He put one arm around his back to hold it while his left hand closed on his gun. Was he afraid of other attackers? Eren closed his eyes so he wouldn't see that gun that had brought death to his tea salon. His Omega instinct reacted to the protection that the Alpha had given him and the feeling of security that their proximity made him feel, and his body gradually relaxed, despite his realistic side that was still howling at danger. It only took a few seconds against each other for Levi to ask:

        -You’re an Omega?

Eren nodded feverishly and gently his head:

        -How could I miss that?

The brown did not answer but let Levi stick a little more to him. He felt the fingers of the man with black hair sliding along his neck, climbing up into his hair and forcing him to nest his head in the hollow of his neck. Which was strange. The Alphas didn't like to expose their throats, it was a sign of submission. Yet Levi allowed him access to his own... Was it because he was an Omega and he knew he had nothing to fear from him? Eren closed his eyes and let Levi's smell relax his muscles. He felt safe in his arms. The brown could not tell how long it had been before the living room door opened. It shouldn't have been Mikasa. Especially not. He suddenly pulled his head out of Levi's neck to feel three men entering, three more Betas:

        -Boss?

        -Behind the counter.

And the three strangers had a face and a name:

        -Gunther and Auruo, I don't want to see the bodies or a trace of blood. Erd, secure the perimeter and get the car. Make it quick.

The three strangers stood still for a few seconds when they saw Eren huddled against Levi. The latter scolded and they set to work. The rumble made the Alpha's torso vibrate and the brown one bit the lower lip... Such dominance... The brown one forced itself to think of something else, to close its eyelids and to delight to find this feeling of security which had enveloped it before the arrival of the Betas. They remained silent until the little bubble in which they found themselves was burst by Erd:

        -The perimeter is secure and the car is right outside the door.

        -Perfect.

Levi put his gun in his dorsal hollster and lifted Eren into his arms as if he was weighing nothing. The Omega squeaked with surprise as he wrapped his arms around Alpha's neck:

        -Let’s go.

The brown one emerged from his torpor at the agreement of his words:

        -What? No! Mikasa will be back soon and I have to be there! And I don't know you! I'm not leaving with strangers!

But the man with black hair kept moving towards the door. Eren waved in Levi's arms:

        -Let go of me!

        -An Omega who rebels, that’s new.

        -Put me down right now!

Levi released the brown one's legs so that he could put his feet on the ground. But when he moved away from the Alpha, the latter grabbed his wrist and brought him back against him:

        -Let go of me!

        -What happened to the fragile little Omega in search of comfort?

        -He doesn’t stay when you want to kidnap him!

        -But he stays with the man who killed two people?

Eren stopped, blinked and realized that he had indeed nestled with great pleasure against a murderer... But it was natural for an Omega to seek safety after a dangerous situation. Especially to seek such a feeling from the person who had protected him:

        -Don’t argue with me. Be good and everything will be fine.

The brown boy tensed, he was afraid again and his pheromones indicated it to Levi, who signed:

        -I know what you're thinking. I'm not gonna sell you, kidnap you, hurt you, or let anyone else hurt you.

        -And what if I don’t want to come?

Levi signed again:

        -I'm really kidnapping you and putting your sister under surveillance to make sure you don't do anything stupid.

The Omega let out a squeak of terror. Not his sister... Levi's natural cold and the fact that he had shot two people did not allow Eren to doubt that he would not hesitate to harm Mikasa, if need be. The Omega refused that his sister be put in danger or injured by her fault, then, he was going to follow him:

        -Everything's cleaned, boss, we dumped the bodies in the trunk of the car, we'll get rid of them on the way before we clean the car.

        -Good. We move then.

Without releasing the pressure on Eren's wrist, Levi dragged him to his suite and the whole group got into a black car with smoked windows. The Omega swallowed, it did not bode well. What about his sister? What was to become of his sister? :

        -What will become of my sister?

        -Nothing at all for the moment.

         -Am I… Am I coming back?

Levi didn’t answer his question:

        -Approach.

The brown one remained motionless until Levi ordered him in his Alpha tone to approach, which he did. The next second, the man with the raven hair tied a blindfold around his eyes:

        -What are you doing?, panicked Eren.

Levi put his hand behind his head to prevent him from fleeing:

        -Stop moving!

The Omega bowed to the tone of the employee and let himself be done. He was beginning to seriously hate his instincts for submitting so easily to the Alpha in front of him. Once the blindfold was in place, he couldn't see and it scared him. His instinct only wanted to have contact with the Alpha to calm himself and to feel safe, even though it was him who scared him... Eren did not always understand his Omega nature. A hand landed gently on his:

        -I’m here.

If Eren stood upright like an "i" in his seat, he grabbed Levi's with both hands and didn't let go of it for a second all the way to their mysterious destination.

 What had he just gotten himself into?

Masterlist

© 2018 - Happy Umbrellla - All Rights Reserved. No reposting and/or modifying of any form on any media is allowed. No translations allowed. 

[blackhound14]

Paint it Red. Chapter 2

I thought all that mattered was my work, but sometimes the world isn't just black or white, sometimes it's a whole spectra of colors. Love, I learned, is the most perplexing of all colors.

I hoped that I never learned that.

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chapter 1

chapter 3

Chapter 2: Get the Coffee and the Lead.

Chapter 2: Get the Coffee and the Lead.

I have been to several crime scenes over the last few years; first when I was a rookie, working under my adoptive father, Hank, and then when I was promoted to the post of a Lieutenant. I have interrogated more suspects than the amount of people I have, informally, ever spoken to. Never, in the past seven years of my services to the DPD, have I ever encountered such a troublesome investigation.

The man, Markus, nods towards Jerry and motions me to follow.

We enter another room at the back, filled with what I can only describe as more colors. By the looks of it, this place was probably the store room. I look around curiously, as it was just my second nature by this point. There were empty canvases of varying sizes, lined up neatly in the side and boxes full of brand new brushes. I never knew that brushes could have so many variations.

I hear Markus clear his throat in an attempt to gain my attention, “So, how may I help you, Lieutenant?”

Shit! Even his voice is silky smooth, with a honeyed tone, that I want to do nothing but relish in its sweetness. It had a calming feel to it. How does his laugh sound like, I wonder? How would those lips taste, similar to salt and caramel perhaps? Just like the tint of his sun-kissed skin. I snap out of my nanosecond of distraction and muster up my ability to make full coherent words, one skill of mine that I’m not particularly too proud of.

“I am looking for details regarding a certain type of paint.” I hand him the paint sample, “Do you know of anyone who buys it regularly?”

He shook his head, repeating what Jerry explained earlier about not having the shade for sale. “If you require, I can try to get the same shade of color and then match them with the purchases. However, there are different methods of getting a particular color, so there will be many combinations. I am an artist and I am sure that you will find my services useful.”, he winked.

Calm down and do not stutter. You hear me, Connor?!

I must decline, getting civilians dragged into this mess will only create more problems. And unhealthy distractions. But I need help and this man seems to be the only one that will help me accomplish my mission. I reluctantly agreed. I managed to exchange numbers without much stuttering and making a fool out of myself, so that one good thing.

I walk into the office and make my way to the cafeteria, or the break-room as it is so inconveniently named, to get a cup of coffee. I see Hank, going through some of his case files, from the corner of my eyes. Even at this age, his passion for the job remains undefeated. He was still great at his work as I first worked under him for about eight years and the man didn’t care about relations when it came to the office. ‘I am not your father here, Connor. I am your superior and you call me Lieutenant.’

I couldn’t help but smile at those memories. And now he asks me to call him dad. Hank’s some hard nut to crack, but worth it. No matter how solid of a shell he has, he is still a big-big softy that cries during rom-coms, sleeps while snuggling to a teddy-bear like dog and most importantly, will do anything to keep his small family safe.

I then come face to face with the man I absolutely loath. Gavin Reed. It is still morning and I do not have the willpower to deal with a self-centered moron because, god forbid, this time I might be the one to pull up my sleeve and throw a punch. And I haven’t even taken my coffee yet, making this situation even worse.

He’s a man that has everyone on edge, being incredibly disrespectful and violent. His frame is a little similar to mine, but a tad bit broad. His face has a sharp jawline with a light stubble and light colored eyes. I might even call him ruggedly handsome if his lips, whenever I’m graced with, aren’t always curled up in a nasty snarl or busy making a pathetic statement.

“If it isn’t, Lieutenant Anderson the junior! Seems like you overslept, it’s almost noon. Maybe you were too busy riding daddy’s coattails! Hah!”

As I said, pathetic. Why the hell Captain Fowler hasn’t fired him is beyond my comprehension. I ignore his remarks and continue making myself my drink, as I find that replying back to him is an utter waste of my time. I hear him groan, but don’t turn around because I know what was to follow. I quickly grab my hot coffee and accidentallyspill it over his face.

For a second there was pin drop silence, except the screams of the detective and an occasional curse directed at me. He tried to grabbed me by my collar, but a quickstep and all he held was air. “I will fucking kill you, dipshit! Your daddy’s ain’t gonna save you now, asshole!”

He threw another punch which I easily blocked, I then grabbed that arm and twisted him till his back was against me and the other arm locked. “It is not good to fight, detective. I know your dad might have not taught you manners, but at least follow the rules if you do not want to get fired. It would be very disappointing if our bromance ended so soon.” I then push him away and give him a heartfelt smile.

Before he could cause anymore damage, Tina dragged him away to clean up that mess over his face. “Have a good day, detective.” Now that that’s dealt with, I better get back to work.

I make a new cup of coffee and leave for my desk, which is still the one adjacent to Hank’s. He doesn’t notice me at first, preoccupied going over his documents. I peaked and read the name of the file, ‘Child Kidnapping’. The case Hank was assigned just a couple of weeks ago. I remember going through the file once.

“Is something wrong, Hank? You have been going through that file since I came into the office”

He almost jumped off his seat, “Jeez, Connor! At least let the old man know you’re here.” he huffed, “Anyway, remember this case I was telling you about, it’s been closed.”

“Closed?” my eyes narrowed, “But why? It’s hasn’t even been a month.”

“That’s not the reason. The children, the ones that were captured, miraculously returned home one day. On their own, might I add.”

“All of them? How is that possible?”

“No. Not all of them. But the ones that did, say that some guy saved them. Weird. I said that we should investigate, but Fowler disagreed! Oh, and there are some reports Chris left for you.”

“Have to be the forensics report from last night. I’ll take a look at it.”

I open the report and just as I suspected, Caiden Huffman’s basement acted as a torture room for children and he was illegally selling child organs. That wasn’t the only part, the lab also analyzed the fingerprints present on the crime-scene and gave the list of people to whom the prints belong to. I went through the entire report and I couldn't help but feel that there’s something missing. Where did thesechildren go?

“Hank, can I take a look at your file, the one that got closed?”

He looked at me incredulously, “Why? You got a lead on my case?”

“Maybe.”, he handed me the case file. The names matched. “The names of the children are the same. The cases are linked. How many children were reported to have returned to their families?”

“Oh my god! Three. These are the ones. But we cannot interrogate children! Fuck knows what happened to them.”

Three children escaped. “But we have to try, this is my only lead, Hank!”

Name: Trevor Norris

Age: 10

Date Reported Missing: 25 May 2018

Last Seen Location: Pirate’s Cove Amusement Park

Date of Return: 30 May 2018

Name: Sean Woods

Age: 9

Date Reported Missing: 25 May 2018

Last Seen Location: Pirate’s Cove Amusement Park

Date of Return: 30 May 2018

Name: Alice Chapman

Age: 9

Date Reported Missing: 25 May 2018

Last Seen Location: Pirate’s Cove Amusement Park

Date of Return: 30 May 2018

Caiden worked at an amusement park, his shift was from four to nine in the evening. That’s when the parks are the most crowded. “It is the second of June today. Caiden was killed on 31st of May and his body was found today at two in the morning. He was most likely a mascot as he was was able to grab a child’s attention easily. He’d then make sure that the parents lost sight of their child midst the crowd and then manipulated them into going with him. Maybe by making them think that he’d help them find their parents.”

Hank grimaced, “I suspected that the kidnapper was one of the workers, but we went through all the cameras and we found nothing in the recordings, that backed up my suspicion. Only a worker would know the locations of the security cameras and know how to hide from them. The place has a total of ten-thousand employees. We weren’t even given enough time till the case was declared close.”

He claimed the lives of eight children within a month. The kidnapper was then mysteriously killed in his own home. I need to talk to these kids and find out all I can. “We leave after lunch.”

It is long past five and we have learned nothing new. No parent wants to expose their child to the traumatizing memories of the past few days, when they were held captive in that dungeon-isque place. I do not disagree, but I need to know something!

The first couple declined to let us speak to the child. Which is understandable, still we tried to convince them that it was for a case but to no avail.

The second couple, albeit a bit wary, guided us to their son. He hadn’t even left his room since he returned, according to his parents. We tried asking him a few questions, in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Woods, but he was too scared to talk, might as well talk to a brick wall.

“You are Sean, am I right? My name is Connor and this”, I pointed towards Hank, “is my father.”

No reply. I look around the room, trying the figure out more about the boy. In the corner, laid a stringed instrument and the place was littered with basic-level music sheets, a football and a dog’s plushy.

“You are nine years old, correct? Do you like to play the cello? I can see some of your music sheets. Cellos are very soothing.”

No reply.

“Do you like to play any sport, such as football?”

No reply.

“You know, I have a dog at home. A St. Bernard and his name is Sumo. He is huge! But not frightening at all, he’s just a softy that wouldn’t even harm a burglar.”

And as expected. No reply. There has to be a way! Then a small noise caught my attention, finally. But to my horror, instead of Sean opening up about the crime, he began to cry. His parents intervened and bitterly, ordered us to leave.

Disappointed, we leave the residence and get in the car. “Do you think that we’ll find something in the next place, Hank?”

He glanced at me, “Well, they do say that the third time’s a charm. Wouldn’t hurt to try our luck, huh?”

I hummed in agreement. Maybe we will.

“So, you never told me that you would be late to office today.” he questioned as I began to drive.

“I went to an art shop for investigation. A man named Markus, who’s also the owner, volunteered to help me out.”

He hummed, “You are leaving something out, Connor. Something happened!” he said with that twinkle in his eye and a sly smirk, “I can hear it in your voice.”

“What? Nothing else happened! Just thought that he was unbelievably handsome and has a great voice.” I stuttered.

“Aha! So something did happen. You have a crush, son!” he laughed that only seemed to ruffle me up, “Now you are blushing! Oh god!”

“Why do I share everything with you? It is just an infatuation. Please, drop this line of conversation now, dad” I say pleadingly and he chortled but listened.

“Ya know, Connor, it’s high time you found someone to spend your life with. I am getting old, I need to have some grand-kids. Are you gonna deprive your old man of this?”

“Dad, I know you are worried about my non-existing love life, but I will when I am ready. Besides, Cole still acts like a five year old and he already has a girlfriend. How about you ask him for grandchildren.”

Hank’s eyes popped out in surprise, “Cole has a girlfriend?! And he never told me!” I do not reply and continue to chuckle, “Hey, Connor! Tell me, how is she? How did they meet? Is she pretty? Connor? Say something, goddammit!”

The residence of the third child was thirty minutes away, and all I could hope for was the child to say something as I waited for someone to answer the bell. A few moments later I could hear the clicking noise of the door being unlocked and it opened to reveal a woman. The woman had short, light brown hair and pale skin. She had blue eyes, some freckles and a sharp jawline. She’s really pretty.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Good evening, Mrs. Chapman. My name is Connor and this is my partner, Hank. We are from the DPD, we would like to have a talk, if that is alright?”

She remained silent for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Hank cleared his throat and that caught her attention.

“Yes. Do come in. And please, call me Kara.”

She tells us to get comfortable while she brings us some coffee.

“How may I help you, officers?” she asks.

“We are here regarding your daughter, Alice. We got the news that she returned on her own a few days ago after she was… captured. I would like to ask you and Alice a few questions, if that is alright with you.”

She looked around hesitantly, definitely not wanting to speak about it and absolutely not wanting to call Alice. “I know that this is very important to your investigation, but I am afraid that I cannot help you. She doesn’t leave her room, she cannot sleep and when she does she always wakes up screaming. I do not want her to go through those memories again. As a mother, I just want her to forget and move on. I hope you understand.”

I take a deep breath, “The kidnapper has been killed, Kara. The killer, I suspect, is the one that saved your child. All we want to know is, who was the one who saved them. Their looks, their clothing, anything. You can stay in the room with us. We will not ask anything that will harm your daughter anymore. Just give us a few minutes, Kara.”

I hear footsteps and a new voice spoke, “If someone did kill that kidnapper, maybe he did the right thing. He did more than what the police did anyways, why would I help you find the person that saved my daughter?”

That had to be Alice’s father. He was very tall, with dark skin and dark hair with a military cut. An impressive figure.

“Mr. Chapman, killing is a crime, done for whatever reason. Capturing such assholes is our job.” Hank replied.

Before the taller man could say anything else, Kara intervened, she held his palm in her own and looked him in his eyes, “Luther, they are just doing their job. We should allow them to speak to Alice, just for few minutes. We’ll be there with her.”

Luther reluctantly allowed, but not without a warning, and motioned us to follow. The door to her room opened and Alice was silently reading a story book. The moment she notices us, she tries to hide inside her blanket.

“Alice, this is Connor and Hank. They are your friends and they wanna talk to you.” Kara reassures while sitting next to her. “Think you can answer some questions?”

Alice gives a small nod, and I smile. “Hello, Alice. How are you?”

“I am fine, I think. But I am also scared.”

“I know. You like reading books?”, I read the title, “Alice in wonderland? It is an amazing story.” she doesn't reply. I haven't ever read the book, but I know a little about it thanks to the movie’s promotions, “So, I heard that you met the Mad-Hatter.”

The girl was puzzled, “I did not meet him, he is not real.”

“But you did. The person that saved you from the bad man. The Mad-Hatter must have saved Alice sometimes. So, let’s call them, the Mad-Hatter because they saved you. What can you tell me about them?”

She looked at her mother who just nodded in return, “I do not know. He was wearing dark clothes and his face was covered. He saved me from that place and the other two took me back to mom and dad. A boy and a girl.” a few stray tear drops fell from her brown eyes. Kara hugged her and kept her close. “He said that we were free now.”

I glanced towards Luther, “We didn’t see them. They left before we could thank them. That is all.”

I and Hank left after saying our goodbyes to Alice and her parents. Emotionless, I stare right ahead, conflicted.

“Look at the bright side. Now we are certain that your killer is a male and that he is not alone. It is a group of three.” Hank said, trying to make me feel better and it did, but I just felt at lost.

What do I do now?

A buzz grabbed my attention. I received a message.

From: Markus

I have found something. You might wanna have a look! Maybe come over tomorrow?

“What is this? I’m the one that says the good things but when someone else messages you, you beam like the goddamn sun?! Is it that Marcus guy?”

“It is Markus, Hank.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you were dating already. Whatever, just send me the wedding date!”

“Very funny, Hank. Look I am laughing. HAHAHAH” I said unimpressed, but my face was flushed red and Hank was having the time of his life.

“And by the way, you have never read ‘Alice in Wonderland’, have you?” and he just laughed more.