#i was the only person. like at all. for several hours of nonstop customers. all while doing catering.

[thomasthetankengine]

after the shift i had today i no longer feel human

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 3825

He didn't sleep much. Thinking of next day, how to delay you. He knew the moment he goes to headquarters you would disappear and go to your foster parents. Then finding out they are nowhere, finding out the house was sold and somebody else lives there. Perhaps he should have just told you the truth. Perhaps he just made it even more cruel than he needed to. 

Waking up was hell, he never felt so broken before. Was he even sleeping? This felt like fighting nonstop for hours. When he got out of his room he noticed the light coming out of the kitchen. Still half asleep moving towards the light. Meeting up with you who were running around the kitchen. Asking what's going on to which you just answered 'making breakfast or at least trying to'. 

Perhaps if he paid more attention to trying to he could avert the catastrophe in the form of burned eggs. He didn't know what was more surprising, the fact he had eggs at home or that you can't cook well. Took him several minutes to calm you down and assure it's fine. You can fetch some stuff at the bakery later. 

"Meh, I wanted to make you a surprise for letting me sleep here..." 

"For last time. It's fine. Look, you made amazing coffee and that's all I need in morning to wake up." Putting his index finger on your lips. "Shh." 

Once you bought some pastry and ate it on your way, Kaeya noticed how you looked towards the direction where you used to live. In hopes you won't run off, saying you should come with him. To meet with some old acquaintance which you just shrugged at and agreed with. In fact he was not sure how much you and Jean knew each other. But hey he had to try it. 

His entire plan is based on improvisation. Keep you busy until evening, take you to the tavern and leave it to the right person. If there was somebody who should tell you about their father's passing away. It should be his rightful son.

When you two arrived at the headquarters, knights already greeted him as a captain. Cursing for himself. At least he could tell you that Diluc is no longer with the Knights of Favonius. Glancing over at you, noticing you didn’t seem surprised or anything. Instead giving him a confused 'huh?'. 

Excusing himself as he disappeared to the acting Grand Master's office. Quickly explaining his situation. She stared at him trying to take it all in. 

"So, you want my help to keep the miss y/n occupied until evening. Also expecting your plan will work out perfectly considering your relationship with Diluc?" Jean rubbed her temples. It wasn't everyday when somebody came to her office asking for help like this. 

She knew about that specific incident. About two adventurers taking it too far in the mountains and never coming back. Being found weeks later frozen to bones. "Fine. I guess it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. I don't remember much more than her name and that she was with you guys all the time." 

"See? That's enough to get known with somebody. I will take over your work and you will have a day off." Kaeya had to control his voice not to be too loud in case you could hear it through the door. 

It was one awkward day for the acting Grand Master yet full of fun. At first Jean was a little anxious about literally knowing nothing about you but that quickly changed. Especially after taking you to the local library where you guys meet up with Lisa. 

She might be librarian but she is more than that, she could also work as a professional advice giver and love guide. It didn’t take long until you all felt like knowing each other for a long time. Talking about all kinds of things, it even ended up Lisa making you sign up for library membership. So you could borrow a book sometime. Making Jean forget about what Kaeya said to her earlier.

"Just keep y/n busy until evening, we are not the right people to tell her the truth. If there's anyone it's him. In the end the only one who will come bad out of it is me. Which I fully deserve." Kaeya's last words didn't make sense to Jean but that was probably all tied to their ill brother relationship. 

As it was about the time for you and Jean to return back, bidding your farewells to the librarian. 

"See you next time, miss y/n~" 

"Oh please Lisa stop calling me miss. I think we are acquainted enough." Rolling your eyes and laughing afterwards. 

"I know, I know. It's just really fitting to your name. Knowing that you are a business woman, one has to treat you as one." Lisa was clearly teasing you more than anything. 

----

As you arrived back to knights headquarters you wanted to drop off. Explaining you really should check on them. Luckily Jean didn't have to come up with some lie as Kaeya suddenly appeared. Like he could hear you talking. Convincing you to tag along with him as an apologize for burned eggs. 

Making you pout but nonetheless you agreed to come. Noticing an envelope in his hand, coming to a conclusion he will have to deliver it personally. To your surprise you two crashed at Angel's Share. The same tavern where your little reunion happened. The tavern was still nearly empty, it was short after opening. 

‘So Diluc is working as a bartender here now?’ Thinking to yourself upon seeing the scarlet man behind the bar again. Noticing his glare. But it was not meant for you, his eyes locked on Kaeya. Locked like he was his prey. Just what was going on?! Kaeya’s no longer living at winery, their relationship feels odd and this death giving aura all focused on the said man. 

Diluc was scary. It was far too different from the kind lad you remember. Making you nearly turn around and leave but when he looked at you, his expression softened. He was not smiling but also not giving you the same look as he gave to his brother. 

"Um, hi?" Your voice was nervous all of sudden. Cursing in your mind, trying to calm down.

"How are you? I hope he didn't do anything to you." Ignoring Kaeya's remark about he is there and he can hear it. 

"Ah, no! It's the opposite actually! After he offered me a place to sleep at, all I did was burn his breakfast..." Diluc had a hard time not to laugh or change his usual expression. All he could do is think that liar actually deserved it. Noticing you were wearing something different than the other day. At least two or maybe three sizes bigger than a woman of your size would wear. Resisting the urge to question Kaeya what he has done with your clothes.

He could not trust that man with anything. Not even with the letter he received earlier. A letter full of nonsense, it was not his style. Kaeya would plot and scheme something not indirectly come and beg for help. Diluc would burn the letter and do like nothing happened if the context of whole writing wasn't about their childhood friend. Shooting an icy glare at Kaeya. 

"Well?" Rising an eyebrow at the bluenette. 

"Oho, I thought I'm a frequent customer. That you would know what I want. One death after noon~" Diluc was amazed how well the other male can act. Doing like nothing is going on, trying to be funny. He was disgusting. Looking back at you. 

"What about you, y/n?" 

"Hmm, surprise me. Wait actually... that thing from yesterday. Not the wine, the other red thing." 

Giving you a nod and pouring the drinks. He actually couldn't help himself but to give Kaeya just grape juice. He knew he shouldn't let his personal feelings slide into work but knowing how much the man despises the juice. 

The temptation was too strong for him to resist. Kaeya looked at the glass and at Diluc, back at the glass. It was like he knew it's not wine even before smelling it. Not saying anything but also not taking a single sip. 

"Y/n." Diluc spoke to you who already drank the entire glass of juice. "I'd like to talk to you. We need to... catch up." 

"Ah, sure. I actually wanted to talk with you too!" Your voice was much less tense than before.

 "Although that has to wait for a bit. Waiting for the other bartender to arrive. Until then, please do enjoy your drink." As he said he gave you another glass. Receiving a gentle smile in return.

It didn't take long until Charles, the other bartender, arrived and could take the bar from Diluc. As you were about to pay for all those glasses he just shook his head to leave it be. Receiving a protest about one has to pay for their drinks. Turning you down with 'It's on the house, now shush.' Clearly a few glasses of juice won't hurt his business. Wishing Charles a calm shift and leaving the tavern followed by you.

You two made a little stroll around the city, as time was passing by it was slowly getting darker and darker. You remembered you wanted to stop by your home. Looking at Diluc with a smile.

"Hey Diluc, how about we first check on dad and mom? It won't take long I promise! I just want to let them know I'm back. I can't barge in at midnight and give them a heart attack."

Diluc pressed his lips together. No matter how he does this or what he says it will end up the same. You noticed his pained expression, looking to the side. This was odd. Smile slowly retreating from your face. Why does both Kaeya and Diluc have the same expression whenever you mention your old people? Then it hits you, like a cold shower. Making you shiver, a wave of denial and anger trying to take over. 

"What are you hiding..." You snapped at him. 

How could you be so dumb until now. Thinking of it, Kaeya did successfully keep you in the dark for the whole day and night. Growing impatient with Diluc's silence. Turning around to run to your home but he grabs your arm.

"Let go-!" Diluc sighed, he never was good with words. Or at least when it came to telling the sad truth. 

"If I let you. Are you ready to face whatever lies up ahead?" 

"Just let me go! For fucks sake!" Yanking off his grip and making a run for it.

Not caring about your surroundings, barely bothering enough to avoid to crash with somebody. Ignoring the angered shouts coming at you. Your mind was locked at only one thing. Deep down wishing your assumption was wrong. Maybe they are just in a bad financial situation or sick but not... 

Sharp pain in calves didn't make you stop not until you arrived at the destination. The house looked a bit different. It no longer had flowers on windowsills and it no longer was giving the warm homecoming aura. Lights were on, your last hope. Dashing to the door, violently knocking on them. When they opened it was not your old man greeting you but somebody you had never seen. 

Blankly staring at the man with wide eyes. Still in denial. This can't be! No! Slowly backing off, knocking over a stone. Landing hard on the ground, feeling how tears were forming in corners of your eyes. A little boy popped out from behind the man, asking if the aunt lady is alright. 

Reality was too harsh. Looking forward to share your adventures, troubles and findings with them. But they were not here. What happened? Why did this man open up the door? Perhaps you just jumped into a quick conclusion, perhaps they just moved. But. Something was telling you that's not the case. The pained expression Diluc had just a moment ago before you ran off.

Getting up on foot, murmuring a quiet apology and walking away. You had no strength to run anymore. Everything was spinning. Why has nobody told you about this? Why has nobody been straight with you? Where are you? Where should you go? This is not how your homecoming was supposed to be. 

----

Not knowing where your legs were carrying you. Already outside of the city's gates. Moon was already up, illuminating the road ahead. Lost in your own world, not noticing how shadows were moving. Only because of your sixth sense you built up during those years you managed to avoid the ambush. 

Dodging the swing from mitachurl's axe. Your movement was swift but lacked the will to bother. Yet you found yourself agitated enough. Just the fact something had the audacity to attack you was enough. Feeling presence of something stronger than the oversized churl. It was disgusting and suffocating feeling. Fitting to the Abyss. 

Mitachurl charged with high speed, swinging its axe at you one more time. Only being blocked by an icy wall. The angered beast roared and slammed the ice into pieces. You were already behind it, a sword in hand. Slashing the beast's rear, getting distance. It followed you with a single leap. Avoiding all of its attacks, sometimes putting a wall of ice between you and the beast. If you were interested enough the battle wouldn’t go this way. It would be done in a matter of seconds. 

The anger you felt, the pain which was irritating. The last thing you wanted to do was bother with this thing. But what other options do you have? One last dodge. Before the monster could attack once more it got staggered by several cryo blades attacking its weak spots. Making it yowl in pain. The blades then returned back to your side.

Air was getting colder every passing second. Jumping over the mitachurl, swinging blade, sending icicles which shattered upon contact. Sharp as swords they were digging deep into the beast’s body. Upon landing you begin assaulting the beast with quick attacks. Slash after slash. The cryo blades copied your attacks. When you were done they returned back to your side.

To finish the thing off you summoned an ice spear in the sky. With a single motion of your hand it landed. Piercing the beast through. Freezing everything around in a small radius. Knowing the spear can reach the absolute zero, nobody at low skill level as monsters in the wild could survive this. 

"I hate this..." Murmuring to yourself. The evil presence was still lingering in the air. Where is it hiding? Eyes darting everywhere. Unfortunately clouds were covering the moon and there was really low visibility. An attack could come out of everywhere. Hearing a low whisper in language you could not understand. 

Abyss mage's incantation! Just in time avoiding a shower of icicles. ‘Cryo?! Are you kidding me?’ You cursed while taking cover behind your cryo wall. What you can do? Fighting ice with ice is ridiculous. 

Mage was laughing in amusement, it could toy with you as long as it wanted to. You can't hurt it, not with your vision. Luck was on its side today! Its Queen would reward it for bringing her yet another trophy. Especially if it's somebody who's already on their list. 

It knew who you are. Description of h/c and e/c, cryo vision and one handed sword. That's definitely the same woman who blasted one of their important hideouts in Liyue. 

Enjoying the view of your futile attempts to get lost from its sight. Showering you with more and more icicles. It couldn't tell why but it felt like you seemed down, weaker. A perfect opportunity to take you down. Following your tracks was worth the time!

Another laugh escaping its lips. But then something felt off. Before realizing what caused the intense change in air, the heat slammed it down. The perfect and unbreakable shield, covering it from any kind of attack was gone! Only one thing could cause this. Rising its head up and noticing a tall figure coming closer. Holding a fiery weapon. Just when it thought today was its lucky day this man must have appeared! 

Using its ability to teleport away, however the man wielding the flame sword was quick on his feet. Slamming it again into the ground. There was no escape, not from the notoriously known man, Diluc Ragnvindr. He is the most hated and focused man by the entire Abyss Order. Destroying all of their plans. The abyss mage perished in flames. Screaming this will cost him. 

Diluc stood there, eyes locked at slowly dying flames. He tried to keep his emotions in control. However there were many things pissing him off. One of them being cowardly Kaeya. His mixed up feelings about you. Abyss Order daring to disturb tonight. His inability to find proper words.

Hearing footsteps behind him closing the distance. Hearing the blade cutting through air. Blocking it with his claymore. Eyes to eyes facing you. There was no longer anger in them. In fact it was hard to tell what you were thinking. A few more attacks. All he did was parry each of them. Your attacks grew weaker and weaker until your hand holding sword froze mid air. Looking at your friend with watery eyes. Confused. Hurt. Angry. Letting go of the sword, before it could land on ground it disappeared. Falling on knees and sobbing. Feeling defeated. Crushed. Helpless.

Diluc let go of his own weapon. Considering what to do next. He could just throw everything at his friend. At least you would know the truth but he was not a man of sugar honey covered words. Being aware it could make everything worse. He is not really fit into this role. But at least he could relate to your pain, to your feelings or so he thought. 

Hesitantly kneeling next to you, putting hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Just what was he doing? Is this how you comfort people? If it were him he would just shut himself in bedroom, not caring about anything else. You were no longer a little kid where you used to cry a lot over tiny things. And even then comforting was something completely different to him than it is now. 

What should he say? What should he do? Would it be too bold or stupid to do it like when you were kids? But this time you were not hurt, at least not physically. It's not like falling and hitting your head, crying aloud. Where he could just blow at the ouchie and say the pain will go away soon.

"What... what happened? Tell me the truth... everything... please!" You managed to whisper between sobs. Looking into Diluc's fiery orbs, finding empathy in them. 

Listening to everything what he said. How things slowly unfolded. How your parents decided to go on an expedition into mountains, underestimating the cold climate. Only being found frozen to death. And since nobody knew about your exact whereabouts there was no way to inform you or ask what to do with the house. 

The house was unoccupied for three years, just recently somebody moved in. A young couple with their son. Maybe if you wanted to and were heartless enough you could get the house back. But that wouldn't be right thinking to yourself. 

Diluc also told you about him no longer being with knights and practically despises them now. From that point it was really hard for him to speak with a clear throat. He will never forget the pain of losing somebody close to him. Even before he got to the part how his father passed away, you crawled over, now sobbing into fabrics of his attire. Holding tightly to him. 

For a brief moment he closed his eyes, trying to chase away those bothersome tears which were forming in his eyes. This was a hard topic for him. Except the traitor and his personnel, nobody really knew what happened. He didn't trust anybody since that day, or at least not enough to share this. 

Perhaps he was feeling sentimental and emotional enough. At first he planned to skip details and just tell you his old man died. But somehow he felt like he could trust you. In the end it all seemed like you were the one who cried for both of you. He cried enough back then, yet holding back some tears was impossible. It will always hurt.

None of you knew how long had passed or what time it was. When your cries slowly fell quiet, when there were no more tears to cry. 

"I don't know what to do now... Where to go. I have no home and I don't want to go to Liyue..." Whispering into night air. 

Feeling how Diluc let out a deep breath. Probably wanting to say something. Releasing from his arms, suddenly feeling cold. 

"Damn, I should have taken more mora with me. But who would have known I would need enough to pay rent, huh." You tried to lighten the mood. Not sounding so dreadful. 

Diluc stood up and offered you his hand. "Manor has open doors for you. Unless... You'd like to spend another night on somebody's sofa." He didn't tell you about Kaeya. Feeling like it's his responsibility. All he said was that their opinions are different way too much to remain the same. 

Not sure if you were mad at that man but he would have preferred if you kept distance. Kaeya can't be trusted, not anymore. However, telling you what to do is not his business anymore. 

"Ah, well. I... I would need to scold him first for being such a chicken. Leaving the bad news sharing to you. Anyway we are not done with bad news and stuff, but how about we leave it for later?" Giving him a weak smile. 

"Oh! Does Adelinde still work as a head maid?"

"Yes. She's very loyal. Considering she already worked for my father." Diluc dusted off his coat and then taking it off, pulling it over your shoulders. You were shocked to say anything, feeling blood rushing to your face. 

"Well then. We better be on our way."

Walking silently towards the winery. One thing was sure, things won't be the same as before. But with some work around you could restore your friendship. 

Sharing your own secrets and story behind the vision. The thing about business heritage and in general what took you so long. Diluc valued your honesty and trust. You can be sure he will be there for you if you need. 

Previous ✨ Next

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

six

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: getting back into everyday life

disclaimer: slander of ones self, child abuse

I want to be with you, it is as simple and as complicated as that.

- charles bukowski

After finishing her tea, Avery told Harry that she was tired and made her exit. The way home had been cold and rainy, upon arriving back to her flat she realized that it wasn't much better. She walked into the kitchen in search of more tea. Coming up empty-handed, she decided to brew a pot of coffee. That would keep her awake, at least.

In the corner of her living room sat an old piano, she had bought it a couple of years prior at a flea market. The thing worn and very out of tune, but adorned with a wonderful message written in metallic silver sharpie. “Girls just wanna have fun.” she wandered over to it, taking a seat on the small bench, letting her fingers wander over the unfamiliar keys. She understood them just as much as she would a foreign language.

Her long, fragile fingers pressed down on the white stripes, the atrocious sound it makes sends a shiver down her spine. Closing the lid of the piano and setting her mug on top, she contemplated what else to do. The main goal was to stay awake, as it always was. Everything that she did from the moment she came home to the moment she went back to work was focused on just that. Anything she could do to take her mind off of that would happily suffice.

So, for the next half an hour she read a book, made another pot of coffee, sat down to compile a list for the grocery, started a bad french movie, drew several small doodles on her grocery list, and eventually made her way out to he balcony to see if her neighbor's cat was in sight.

At 1:30 am she went back inside due to the cold air. Once settled, she was greeted by a deafening silence. It isn't unfamiliar. All her nights went like this. She wasn't living her life, just waiting for the time to pass. Sometimes she would stand inside of her tiny bathroom, look into the mirror for a good while and take in her appearance. The bags under her eyes, the sunken face, and the slumped shoulders,

On rare occasions, she would fall asleep. This was almost always met with her waking up in a panic. Nonstop tears and shakes. Always alone. Always.

Tonight Avery was again standing in the bathroom. She thought about the party while she brushed her teeth. You were dumb. You were acting stupid and weird and everyone must have thought you were crazy. Everyone.

She opened her bedroom door, crawled underneath the sheets of her bed, and fell asleep with a racing heart.

“Mummy! I painted you something!” I exclaimed, running into the kitchen. The piece of paper in my wand-waving around like a flag. Mummy was standing there, her eyebrows knit together, and a stern expression on her face. That look alone made me stop in my tracks.

“What did I tell you, Avery? Huh?! What did I tell you!” She yells, looking down at me. I lower my gaze, hiding my paining behind my back.

“Not to run in the house.'' I whisper apologetically, looking anywhere but her. Mommy's hand connects with my cheek and I fall backward, the painting falling to the floor. Tears fill my eyes as she slaps me for a second time. “I’m sorry, Mommy… I didn't mean to make you mad”

She kneels in front of me, making sure that we are on a small level. I think that she might even want to hug me. Say that she is sorry and that she didn't mean to hit me, and ask if I am okay. As I step forward with outstretched arms she grabs my hair, pulling me closer. “You know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And that's all you will ever be.”

Avery shakes the whipped cream container for the second time, the disapproving gaze of the customer in front of her beyond prominent. At last, a bit of whipped cream topped the caramel frappuccino with cinnamon, almond milk, and sprinkles.

“That will make 3 pounds, please.”

The girl placed 3 pounds on the counter, took her coffee, and left without saying another word. She joined her boyfriend who was waiting patiently outside for her. As soon as the door closes, Avery lifts the curtain that leads to the back of the shop. “Tom! I think we're out of whipped cream!”

An annoyed grunt is the only answer she receives before Tom makes his way to the front of the shop. “Again? Maybe we should stop selling those damn frappuccinos.”

“Any new job offers?’” Avery asks, wiping her hands on one of the nearby dish towels. A look at the clock reminded her that her break would start in just a couple of minutes.

‘Not really,” Top sights, leaning against the counter, his gaze fixed on the big window, overlooking the street. “Maybe I should make the salary a bit higher, but I don't have that kind of money. It's hard enough for me to even pay you, but we really could use the extra help around here. I'm telling you, the very next person who puts in an application will get the job. You will get a bit of a break around here too. Do you think you could run out and get some more whipped cream? The next delivery doesn't come till Friday.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out five pounds.

“Sure,” Avery is already on her way out of the shop. “I got it covered.” Tom gives her a thankful smile, putting the money back into his pocket.

“You're a real one, Avery.”

Avery was never very fond of receiving compliments. They always made her feel very uncomfortable and she never knew how to react to them. Genuine smiles or a grateful glance meant a lot more to her. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy. Words were too easy. Everyone could say something without meaning it.

She scurried across the street to the nearest Tesco to get three more containers of whipped cream. After paying and a highly uncomfortable small talk with the cashier, she made her way to her favorite bagel place. While making her way there, she decided that four things made her life bearable. Tea, the neighbor’s cat, genuine smiles, and bagels. There wasn't much more to it.

She went with her usual bagel order accompanied by a black tea, finding a nice spot towards the back of the shop to sit, the three containers of whipped cream sat close beside her. Her eyes ran over the pages of the book she had brought with her, but she just couldn't seem to concentrate. Her eyes simply just float past each word, not truly reading. The nightmare from last night was still at the forefront of her mind, weighing her down today. She regretted going to bed at all. It always bought this with it. You couldn't have one without the other.

“What's got you looking so miserable?” A voice suddenly asked. Avery jumped back, nearly losing her grip on the book. Harry stood looking down at her. His silhouette blocked the sunlight flowing in from a nearby window, so she couldn't quite make out his features. “I’m sorry, I didn't want to scare you.”

“It's okay,” She breathed out. “Hi, Harry.”

He smiled at her before placing the coffee in his hands, of which she hadn't noticed before, down on the table, taking a seat across from her. “You look tired.”

She always looked tired. He must have noticed. Everyone noticed. “You're very charming, you know that?”

“I get that quite a lot.” They sat in silence for a while, Harry sipping his coffee, occasionally settling his gaze on Avery. She completely gave up on trying to read her book and focused her attention on her bagel and tea. The afternoon sun lit up the shop, every table in front of them being illuminated in a warm glow.

Avery enjoyed the silence and Harry didn't seem to mind it either. She still didn't understand the stranger she had met and kept on meeting, but it was nice. It was different having a person around, like having a friend. “Do you wanna go out tonight?”

“What?”

“My friends and I are going out tonight and I thought you might want to accompany us,” Harry explained, his eyes not leaving her. He was worried. About what? She had no clue, but he wasn't very good at hiding it. Not at all.

“Wouldn't that make me even more tired?” Avery questioned, referring to his statement from earlier.

“I'll give you some energy.”

“How does that even work?”

“You will have to come to find out.” He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Avery agreed to go out with him and his friends, also agreeing to meet him at her flat. Avery left first, leaving Harry to sit a bit longer at the table. As she walked away, the warm glow of the sun hitting her face in the perfect way, Harry wasn't sure he had ever met someone more lonely.

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[eeveemasters]

hey, all you lovely people!  full disclosure i talk a lot and i have thought about this character thoroughly when you look under that read more... oh boy... just a heads up. anywho... guess i’m the last here i see, well, that’s typical. I’m late to literally everything, although this time I do have a good excuse. i’d tell you what it is but you don’t really wanna read about me gettin’ it in all weekend and drew is my bro -like literally. we share blood. we came outta the same womb. 26 hours of labor. 19 minutes apart. our poor mother-  so he def doesn’t wanna read about it and that is a swill of information about me before ya even know my name which says a lot, doesn’t it? inst-y-ways, I’m maddie and I’m Jewish, you’ll figure out why i’m putting that out there now. also hello again. i hope y’all are ready to get this party started, cause this is where it’s at! look below & hit that read more and I will tell you all about my baby girl, Eevee.

TW: DEATH, DEPRESSION, STALKER, MURDER, KIDNAPPING

★ ━  ( candice patton,   cis-female,   she/her )  ━ ★   just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me.   The person you’re lookin’ for is     EVELYN LUCIA MASTERS.   also known as     EEVEE.    Last I heard she was born on   APRIL 7TH, 1988    in    SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS,   but she’s been livin’ in   RICHMOND,    for about    EIGHT MONTHS.    Word around the districts is, this doll,    EEVEE  can be    VENGEFUL,   SELF-RIGHTEOUS,   &    A KNOW-IT-ALL,   but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s   RESILIENT,   CHARISMATIC,    &     ENERGETIC.   I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though.   the last thing ya need to know is that she works as an   A-LIST ACTRESS  &  CO-OWNER OF EXCALIBUR COMICS.  I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own.  ━     ( ooc:  maddie,   pst,   28,   she/her ) 

Evelyn Lucia Masters.

the irony of her name is that it means “wished for child”

she was definitely not.

hence why she goes by... 

Eevee. 

Yes, like the Pokemon.

No, it’s not a stage name or a gimmick.

She legally changed her name.

It’s on her credit card. ( so are kittens! )  

Born in San Antonio Texas.

Jewish, Bisexual & Very Proud.

Collette Rivers

Her mother.

One of the first and few Black, Soap Opera stars.

Had a wildly popular sitcom for a hot minute.

Career was on fire in the 80′s & 90′s.

Transitioned to clothing designer and eventually a reality tv real housewife when she couldn’t get jobs anymore.

Joseph Masters.

Her Father.

a former actor

was very well known for CSI.

was on broadway.

became a sought after director.

it’s a whole family in the biz, so of course...

@ two years of age, Eevee became an Actress™

baby diaper commercials with her mom.

then singing lessons.

then dance lessons.

then pageants.

more commercials.

a bit of child modeling.

more commercials.

reoccurring kid on sesame street.

then a reoccurring (but not staring) role on Gullah Gullah Island.

1998. She’s 10.

lands a role on Broadway opposite Leon Thomas III as Nala in The Lion King. 

this is the jumping-off point of her career. where it really shot off

but ignoring that for a minute...

Eevee has 5 other siblings.

4 of them are alive.

when Eevee was 15 she’d just gotten season 1st ( and eventually only ) season of her Disney show renewed and she had a stalker. on her 16th birthday, the stalker snuck into her sweet 16, cornered her when she and her older, brother Elias were alone, stabbed Elias, and kidnapped Eevee. Elias was rushed to the hospital when they found him but died shortly after.  They found Eevee, recovered her from the stalker unharmed, but when she asked about Elias... shortly after Eevee sunk deeper into her depression, and also suffered from survivors’ guilt and eventually had to stay in a mental hospital and was released a year later, a few days after her 17th birthday. being in the real world was hard for her and in a few weeks time, became legally emancipated from her parents because her father had taken control of monitoring her finances, her decisions, and became too controlling of her schedule and time out of his concern for her and her mother acted like none of it happened and expected Eevee to pick up where she left off and to get more jobs and keep working. It was an environment detrimental to her health and sanity so she had to get out of that and got her own place and moved away from her parents and unfortunately, her twin sister and younger brother.

Took a break from acting to finish high school.

had to have private tutors

excelled at the school aspect of her life.

had very few friends but she did have a girlfriend.

eventually, Eevee broke up with her

to seize her 5 minutes of fame she outted Eevee as a lesbian to TMZ.

It didn’t take long for Eevee to speak out.

At 17, in 2005, Eevee came out publically as Bisexual.

as a Black 17-year-old girl she was proud of herself.

but it did not go well for her in the media or in magazines.

didn’t help what little career she had left.

but she also kinda didn’t care

Became known for outspoken activism for LGBTQ+ youth.

Started her own charity and outreach program to finance and help struggling youth in the LGBTQ+ community by providing them with shelter, food, and treatment for health issues both mental and physical.  

went to college...

Northwestern State University.

joined the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority

double-majored in theater and business

got married to one of her best friends at one point to help him out with his financial situation.

graduated with degrees. 

and real friends in and out of her sorority.

WORKED HER ASS OFF TO GET HER CAREER BACK ON TRACK.

it took a lot of hard work.

a lot of mediocre jobs.

a lot of auditions. 

a lot of shmoozing & playing the long game.

she pulled every single string

cashed every single favor

ate a lot of shit.

including going to her mother whom she hadn’t spoken to in six years.

EVENTUALLY ROSE BACK TO THE A-LIST WITH A VENGENCE.

Several Independent Films.

Supporting roles in TV shows.

Supporting roles in a few movies.

Starring roles in a number of pilots that never got greenlit.

Starring roles in 2 tv shows. 

one was canceled the first season.

the other had THREE SEASONS.

won an Emmy

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series

landed a few ad campaigns

Eevee went back to Broadway a few times over the years.

Bring It On: The Musical

played Danielle

won a tony

Best Featured Actress in a Musical.

Newsies: The Musical

played Katherine.

dream come true.

Hadestown

played Eurydice.

nominated for a Tony.

The Lion King

played adult Nala.

life coming full circle.

Currently stars in her own Netflix show. 

season 2 just finished filming which is why she has moved to Portland.

PERSONALITY:

very much a complete dork. loves video games, loves comic books, has a lot of memorabilia all through her house, it’s practically a dork museum, always telling puns. always joking. always been an adorable ray of sunshine. she really likes to be a light and enforce positivity for her friends and others.

talks far too much for her own good especially when she’s nervous.

very kind, generous, and loving, always willing to help a friend.

always willing to cook for someone as a way to comfort them. She’s a well-versed home chef and an excellent baker.

she’s in-between the vodka aunt and the mom friend. she’s the first to suggest doing shots and getting fucked up, but she’ll also make sure everyone’s okay and be responsible.

She’s that friend who if you fuck with one of her friends in any way she will go into protective mamma bear mode and straight-up end that person for you. if you need someone to back you up in a fight, literally, and have your back she is your girl.

she isn’t great at flirting or really being around anyone she finds attractive, she turns into a rambling, nonstop talking, pile of adorable.

up until the end of December last year, she was a virgin. She’s only ever slept with one person so she’s not really the sleep around kind of girl but respects those who do, you do you boo, but also please don’t mistake her for a relationship type girl either. she’s neither. she’s great at fooling around and hookups that usually stop before they get to the sex part. she’s actually just very awkward when it comes to intimacy and feelings and getting close to people in that way. It fucks with her anxiety so she just needs someone who can get her out of her head and that is very hard to find for her.

She’s a feminist and believes women should be there to support each other, but also is aware that feminism isn’t always equal and some women don’t include her as a woman to support because she is a woman of color and because she’s Black and will call someone out on their white feminist or anti-black bullshit.

she’s kind but is in no way a pushover. she’s very opinionated and steadfast and isn’t afraid to reason with someone and argue with them and stand up for herself.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS:

Friends: people who can put up with her non-stop chatter and find it endearing.

Fake Friends: people who are using her for fame, recognition and what her name can do for them.

Crushes: could be one-sided, could be both-sided, let’s talk about it.

Boxing Friendship: sparing partners, or someone who sees her at the boxing gym in her workout outfits that include but is not limited to color-coordinated custom gloves, that match both her outfit, her shoes, her gym bag and the giant cheerleading bow on the top of her high ponytail,  but has never actually stuck around to see her box so don’t believe she can throw an actual punch because they can’t take that seriously, because she’s just a pretty little celebrity what can she actually do, but then one day end up in an argument with her and challenge her to a sparring match and to their surprise kicks their ass and they become sparring partners. I don’t know, clearly I haven’t given that plot much thought.

Step-family member: Eevee doesn’t have a relationship with her mom, but she is aware the woman got married to another woman who has kids when Eevee was 19 or so. She’s never met any of them. Never spoken to any of them. Never been invited to family functions. Knows full well they exist and they know full well she exists and they have actually hung out with other members of her family, just not her. So that sounds like awkward and traumatic fun for all involved right?? Bring the angst.

Fellow Actors: They could be real friends, could be fake friends, could have worked together, could just know of each other, could be a publicity friendship, dude, I don’t know.

Fans / Haters: like her work or don’t like her work???????????? I don’t know I’m just throwing stuff out there at this point.

I don’t know we’ll figure something out, I AM PUMPED AND EXCITED!!

[ft-dads-au]

Come Into Bloom

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Flower Shop Pairing: Erza x Mirajane A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net September 25, 2021

“It’s getting pretty crowded out there,” Sherry commented to Erza as she looked out the shop window.

“Hopefully, that will be good for us,” Erza mumbled as she worked on another corsage, this one a pretty combination of lavender and pink flowers.

They were right in the middle of Fantasia, the biggest flower holiday of the year. Unlike Valentine’s Day, which was mostly targeted at lovers, Fantasia was meant for everyone. It was just as likely for a father to give a token to his children, as to his partner, or even his own parents.

Erza had already made Natsu's order that morning, a beautiful flower crown for Hana, as well as a large bouquet for Gray. Atlas, Aki and the twins were getting some flower-shaped cookies that Mira and Elfman had baked and decorated for the boys the previous night as they were a little too young to appreciate flowers.

“Isn’t it about time for Mira to get here?” Sherry asked her employer, smiling as Erza’s hands immediately went to her hair.

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Erza looked back down at her work table not wanting to give away her agitation.

“It’s so nice that you two make a habit of having lunch together every Saturday,” Sherry enthused, with hearts in her eyes. “Are you getting her something for Fantasia?”

“I uhm, hadn’t thought about it,” Erza lied, not wanting to admit that she had spent hours trying to devise the perfect bouquet of flowers. One that would let Mira know once and for all how she felt about her, but with all the orders she needed to fill plus walk-ins, there had been no time. It was only her and Sherry, and she couldn’t afford to hire more employees.

She’d started working at Rose of Yūen during her college days, and once she’d graduated, she’d bought it from the elderly couple who had owned it. It was her pride and joy, but it also took up a lot of her time, the rest of which was usually claimed by her brother and niece and nephew.

Which is how she had ended up pining for the same woman for years and finding multiple excuses to do nothing about it.

The tinkling of the shop’s door alerted them to a visitor, and Sherry went to help their customer, knowing that Erza was about to go on her lunch break. Erza smiled, remembering the special order she had hidden in her office cooler. Ren Akatsuki, Sherry’s husband, would be by to pick it up as soon as Sherry went on her own break.

That was one of the things she loved about having the shop. Most of the time, she got to see the best in people. The shy teenage boy anxiously looking for a corsage for his first date, the elderly couples that were still madly in love with each other even after a lifetime together and everything in between.

There was Rogue Eucliffe who special ordered flowers from Edolas, to give his husband a taste of his home country. And Alzack Connell, who bought flowers for both his wife and daughter at least once a month and would probably stop in today.

Even couples who were rekindling a love thought lost long ago. Silver Fullbuster and Gildarts Clive were probably some of her favorite customers, always coming in full of boisterous insults towards the other, yet the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

In fact, it seemed like everyone around her was either in love or starting a relationship. Even her brother, who had unexpectedly become a widower last year, had already found someone. While Erza remained forever alone.

She was done with that though, after spending the last eight years building up her business and helping Natsu get back on his feet, it was time to do something for herself. To stop pining for her best friend and try her own hand at love. If she didn’t do something soon someone was likely to whisk Mira off her feet, and she’d have no one to blame but herself.

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that Erza felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mira smiling at her, “You always get so lost in your flowers. I’m gonna go set these up in your office, okay?”

Mira moved towards the office without waiting for Erza's approval, a bag of food from Fairy Tail in each hand. When she noticed Erza wasn’t following, she called behind her, “Hurry up, I brought you a surprise, but if you make me wait too long, I’ll eat it myself!”

Erza put her tools down and scrambled, knowing there was a good chance the surprise was strawberry cake, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

Her office wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for her desk and chair, a watercooler and a small round table with two plastic chairs. Mira had already set out the food, rolling her eyes when Erza’s eyes were already on the two slices of cake that were visible inside a clear plastic container. “How you don’t weigh 300 pounds, I’ll never know,” Mira giggled.

Erza ignored the comment, digging into the chicken pot pie Mira had brought. “Mhmm, this is really good!” she complimented, closing her eyes to savor all the different flavors.

“Yeah, I remembered it was your favorite. I changed the recipe up a little, made it lighter, and the crust a little flakier.”

“Whatever you did, it’s amazing!”

“You really are as bad as Natsu, just as messy too,” Mira laughed fondly, grabbing a napkin from the bag and handing it to Erza, who had sauce dripping down her chin, before taking a bite from her own dish.

“Have you been very busy today with Fantasia?” Mira asked curiously.

“Yeah, a lot of walk-ins, lots of special requests too,” Erza replied, continuing to eat, “What about you guys?”

“It’s still a little early for the drinking crowd, but the restaurant was pretty busy, they had Natsu subbing in for a waiter that called in sick, at least until the bar needs him back. That was uhm, interesting,” Mira’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Good thing he’s an excellent bartender.”

She leaned forward in her chair, curious as always, “What kinds of special requests?”

“Well, different flowers can mean different things, it’s almost like a language all its own. Like those flowers that Rogue gets for Sting? Those mean everlasting love.”

“Why am I not surprised? Those two are sickening,” Mira snorted, “Is there one that means I really kind of just like you as a friend?”

“Well, there’s yellow roses, they’re not associated with romance. Oh, and alstroemeria,” Erza recited, clarifying when she saw Mira’s blank expression,” It’s a type of lily.”

She got up and opened one of her desk drawers, grabbing a book and bringing it back to the table. She looked through it until she found a picture of the flower she had mentioned and showed it to Mira.

It was a beautiful flower that came in a variety of bright colors, with center petals that had contrasting stripes. Mira studied the picture, and it’s given description curiously, but her attention was soon drawn by other flowers on the page.

"Wow, I never knew that there was so much symbolism behind flowers," she mused as she turned the page, "It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought.” She looked up at Erza, a devious smirk on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that Erza found really adorable, but also a tad bit troubling. “Hey, are there any flowers that have an offensive meaning?”

Erza snorted, immediately thinking about the first time Gildarts had come to her shop with a similar question, “Look up yellow carnations.”

“Disappointment and rejection? Ouch!” Mira giggled, and the sound translated into butterflies in Erza’s stomach. “So, do you know all of these by heart?”

“I know most of them, but there are so many variations, and each color often has its own meaning-”

Before Erza had the chance to get lost in the passion she had for her job, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Erza, I’m sorry to disrupt your lunch, but do you think you could come out here for a few minutes? There are several customers and another special order,” Sherry looked apologetic.

While slightly disappointed, Erza didn’t mind too much, she’d already known it was probably going to be a busy day.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to hurry,” Erza apologized to Mira, wiping her face with the napkin before getting up from the table and rushing out the door, a smile already on her face.

Mira continued eating, grabbing the book Erza had left on the table and flipping through its pages, the beginnings of an idea blooming in her mind.

Erza never returned to finish her lunch, and eventually, Mira had to go back to work, so she cleaned up, putting Erza’s food in her small fridge and leaving both pieces of cake for her to eat later.

Mira hurried to the door waving goodbye to both Sherry and Erza on her way out.

0-0

It had been a long day, both Erza and Sherry had been going nonstop, although Erza insisted Sherry take her break if only so she could get Ren his flowers.

They had sold out of everything in the refrigerators and had to scramble to replenish them. Erza felt like she had seen just about everyone in town. Loke came in to get corsages and flower crowns for his daughters, and a small bouquet for Lucy.

Silver and Gildarts had come in with Rogue and the kids, along with an order from Gray for Natsu. Lyon had surprised both her and Sherry by coming in to get something for Chelia. That had probably been her favorite moment of the day, watching the usually stoic Lyon acting nervous and awkward as he tried to find something special for the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

Almost as lovely as watching Sherry help him pick something Chelia would like. Alzack, Macao, Warren, Cana, Juvia, the list went on and on. About the only person she hadn’t seen was Sting.

Almost as if on cue, Sting raced in, hair disheveled, breathing in gasps and eyeing her worriedly, “Am I too late?”

“You’re fine,” Erza assured him, “We don’t close for another hour.”

“Oh, good. Rogue has the car, and I had to run here from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Erza’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re an idiot, you should have taken a taxi or something.”

“No, there’s a ton of traffic, they’re starting to close off the streets for tonight’s events.”

“I see,” She went into her office returning with a folding chair and a cup of water. ”Sit.”

“Now, what nauseatingly romantic thing are you wanting this time?” she teased.

“Well, Rogue’s playing his first gig tonight since forever,” Sting’s eyes blazed with pride, “So here’s what I was thinking.”

And as he began telling her what he wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. They chatted as she worked on Rogue’s flowers, and when the phone rang, Sherry answered it.

“Alright, I’ll give her your order, thanks!” Sherry spoke into the phone, “What’s that? Oh, yeah, got it! Don’t forget Hana’s flower crown, okay. No, he already paid for that as well as Gray’s arrangement. Thanks, Mira!”

“What do you think?” Erza showed Sting her finished arrangement, and his wide grin made her smile wistfully. She handed the flowers over and reminded Sherry to give him the frequent customer/family discount.

“Are you going to meet with us later?” Sting peered at her from behind the enormous bouquet, which Erza already knew Rogue was going to have a hard time moving around with. Hopefully, they’d thought to bring the stroller.

“I’m not sure yet, I have to go to Fairy Tail to drop off Natsu’s stuff, I’ll decide then.”

“Does that mean you’ll decide when you know whether Mira is going?” Sting regarded her with a knowing grin. “Seriously, Erza, are you ever going to do something? Your brother has discovered a whole new sexuality in the time it’s taken you to make a move.”

“Go away, Sting,” Erza muttered in annoyance but mostly because she knew he was right.

“Well, I hope you come,” Sting entreated, “it will be fun to have everyone together.” He struggled to balance the flowers in one arm as he paid for them and then left, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall because of the obstructed view.

Erza shook her head as she watched him leave, reminded of how similar he sometimes was to her brother. Filled with enthusiasm and energy, a bit silly, but with a good heart. They were also amazingly devoted partners, which was reflected in their grand romantic gestures.

How she’d wanted to do something special for Mira, she thought sadly. Maybe there was still time! But before she could give it any real thought, Sherry had given her the order she’d taken over the phone. It was for Mirajane Strauss.

Erza read the names of the flowers listed on the order again: red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. She scrunched up her face in distaste at the combination.

“You’re sure these are the flowers she wanted?” she challenged.

“Yep, she was especially adamant about the red tulips,” Sherry informed her.

Red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. Four species of flowers that looked so vastly different from each other that Erza wasn’t even sure she could combine them into an arrangement that would actually be aesthetically pleasing. But it was for Mira, so she was going to give it her absolute best.

It was for Mira.

Wait a second… Erza listed the order in her head once again with growing anxiety. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Mira had requested these flowers after she’d been looking in that book Erza had shown her during lunch break. They all referred to deep love, affection, and attraction. It was a love confession hastily pieced together in flower meanings.

Shit! Erza’s heart pounded in her chest, the fear that she might have waited too long making her feel light-headed. Who were these flowers for? Erza wracked her brain to think of anyone Mira might have mentioned recently. Mira worked at Fairy Tail, she got hit on constantly, but she usually just laughed it off.

They’d both dated people casually over the years, but it never lasted long, and they always returned to their comfortable camaraderie, laughing at how there was no one out there for them. Although in Erza’s case, what she really meant was there’s no one out there for me but you.

She reviewed the meanings in her head.

Red tulips - a declaration of love, perfect love

Red roses - the most classic of all expressions of love, a child could tell you what it meant.

Gardenias- a symbol of purity and sweetness

Amaryllis - splendid beauty

Every one of these flowers was like a stab to her heart.

“Did uhm, did she say she was picking these up herself?”

“No, she asked that you bring it to Fairy Tail along with Natsu’s stuff,” Sherry answered moving towards the back of the shop, where they kept overstock and orders they didn’t want to be mixed in with sale items, “I’m going to get his things from the back now.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” Erza muttered, gripping the edges of the table tightly.

“Are you okay?” Sherry hovered over her in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Erza smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No!” Erza replied quickly, “It’s for Mira, I should be the one to do it.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced by her assurances, but she went into Erza’s office, returning with a glass of water and the box containing the cakes Mira had left for her. “Here, eat something, you never even finished your lunch. I’ll go pick the flowers, and you can arrange them, alright?”

Erza nodded gratefully, sitting down on the chair she had brought out for Sting. She opened the container, eating her cake but for once, finding no joy in it. She still managed to eat both pieces by the time Sherry came back, arms laden with the requested flowers.

“I’m going to lock the door. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave,” Sherry called over her shoulder.

Erza didn’t answer, already busy with the flowers on her work table. Well, there was nothing she could do; if Mira had given her heart to another, then she would just have to accept it. Mira deserved all the happiness in the world. They would still be friends and aunts to Natsu’s children.

She would make Mira the most beautiful bouquet that could possibly be made with these flowers, and she would even add her own well wishes to it.

“Sherry? Can you get me some red peonies, please?”

“Just a minute, I’m getting Natsu’s order.”

Erza arranged and rearranged, not satisfied with her efforts. She jumped when Sherry arrived with the flowers she’s asked for.

“More red?” Sherry wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Are you sure that’s what you want? That bouquet does not exactly scream love.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” Erza disagreed, showing her the piece of paper that she’d scribbled the order on. “The red peonies are to wish her luck.”

“Oh! Oh,” Sherry frowned, realizing what Erza was saying. She was about to say something else when there was a tapping on the door. A quick peek showed Ren and Chelia waiting for her outside.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sherry asked in a soft voice, “I can ask them to come back later.”

“Nonsense, go have fun with your family, I’ll see you on Monday!”

Sherry didn’t look convinced, but she gave Erza a hug, letting herself out and locking the door from the outside.

With no one left to act tough for, Erza let her tears flow as she continued to work, arranging and rearranging once again until she was satisfied.

0-0

Mira stood next to Natsu, both trying to stay on top of all the customers that had flooded the bar. She was growing increasingly nervous the closer it got to the end of her shift, knowing Erza would show up any minute. She’d bungled up more orders than she could count, having to resort to shameless flirting to keep from getting in trouble. Noticing her state, Natsu took pity on her, asking her to prep fruit for him while he handled the drink orders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her with one of his smiles, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on to a customer that was calling for his attention.

For most people, being handed a knife while they were in turmoil was a terrible idea, but for Mira, who had a knife in hand as often as not, it was fine. The repetitive action of cutting the lemons, limes, and oranges needed for drink garnishes was relaxing.

When she’d arrived back at work from her interrupted lunch with Erza, she had been excited about her idea. She’d written down the names of a bunch of flowers and their meanings, trying to construct a love confession in a language Erza would be sure to understand.

A few hours later, she had been wavering, scared that maybe she’d been reading the signals wrong all these years. If she went through with her plan, she would only be exposing herself to heartbreak and ruining the beautiful friendship she and Erza had worked so hard to sustain over the years.

There had always been so many reasons for Mira not to start anything. At first, it had been because they hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. Then, when that had changed, it was because she was trying to sort out the mess Elfman had gotten himself into, especially after it had caused Lisanna to run away in fear. To Edolas, where she was followed by Natsu, and about two years later, they got married.

It had felt awkward to ask Erza out once they were linked by family, so Mira had dated others instead, trying to distance herself from the love and attraction she felt for Erza. None of them had worked out. Her heart just hadn’t been in them, and when the years hadn’t worn down her feelings one bit, she’d begun to think maybe it was time to take a chance.

But then Lisanna had died, and Mira had been grieving and trying to be there for Natsu, who was clearly falling apart. It was a new excuse but one that felt valid. After all, if she acted now and things didn’t work out between them, it would affect Hana and Atlas, which wasn’t fair to them. The last thing they needed was for their aunts, who each fulfilled a part of a female role model they missed so deeply, to be the cause of uncomfortable tensions.

Sharing babysitting duties with Erza and helping raise the kids had been fun, bringing them even closer together, but also filling Mira’s head with visions of what it might be like if the kids they were taking care of were theirs instead.

But it had been watching Natsu find love again with Gray that had truly sparked her to want to make her own move. If Gray, who had just come out of what was arguably the worst relationship ever, was willing to take a chance on a Dragneel, then why not her? And if Natsu, whose whole life had been turned upside down when he lost his wife granted himself another shot at love, then why shouldn’t she?

It felt right. Maybe that was just Mira's inner hopeless romantic speaking, but it spoke loud and clear, and she was done ignoring it. Besides, they had both turned thirty that year. Not that Mira felt old or anything, but she sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger either. She’d been looking forward to starting a family of her own for so long now. All she needed was someone amazing to start it with.

And Erza was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, and kind, and she had this awkward vulnerability that was incredibly endearing. Which was not to say that Mira wasn’t aware of her faults, like her stubbornness, and her fiery temper.

Mira knew that Erza wasn’t perfect, she was just perfect for her.

It had been Natsu who had encouraged her to make the call, telling her she would never know if she didn’t try, and Fantasia was a perfect occasion. He’d looked over the flowers she had jotted down, making his own suggestions.

“Here, do these. There’s no way she could mistake it,” Natsu assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Because they all clash horribly in a mess of red that no sane person would ever like,” Natsu’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Mira stared at him in disbelief and then began to laugh, “Is that what you did with Gray?”

“No, we were just honest with each other, but you two suck at that so gaudy bouquet it is!”

Mira had swatted at him playfully, but she had to admit he was right, she and Erza never seemed to be able to tell each other how they felt about each other, always tiptoeing around anything that might upset the balance they had achieved.

So she had made the call, relieved to hear Sherry’s cheerful voice answer the phone and now there was nothing left to do except wait.

Mira had sliced enough fruit to keep the night shift bartenders going through their entire shift, and still, Erza hadn’t arrived. She could see Makarov and Porlyusica already waiting outside with Atlas, Hana, and Wendy. Had she been held up at the shop?

A few minutes later, there was an unmistakable flash of scarlet, and she could see Erza talking to her foster parents, arms full of packages, with both kids latching on to her excitedly.

“You ready to go?” Natsu asked, signaling the end of their shift.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Mira sighed, the natural confidence she usually exuded escaping her for once.

Natsu snickered and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as he weaved his way out of the crowded bar and to their waiting family. They were the last to arrive, and Mira was pleased to see that Gray had joined them, even if he was wearing a cap and large sunglasses. Elfman had made it too. Natsu let go of her hand, heading to Erza and asking for his purchases.

Once Erza had finished helping Natsu, she turned towards Mira. “I brought your order too, even added a touch of red peonies for luck,” she chirped with a fake cheerfulness that confused Mira, as she accepted the bouquet she had ordered.

She examined the flowers in her hand and immediately saw what Natsu had meant. As much as Erza had obviously tried to make the flowers she had requested look as appealing as possible, it was a cacophony of contrasting reds, loud and garish. Those flowers had no business being together. And apparently, Erza had felt the need to add her own touch to the mix, yet another red flower.

What the heck? Red peonies for luck? What did she need luck for?

Erza refused to meet her eyes, and if it hadn’t been for that odd phrase, Mira would have expected some yellow carnations in her future. When she looked at her more closely, Mira saw that Erza’s eyes were puffy as if she’d been crying recently.

Did something happen?

“Luck?” Mira blinked owlishly, trying to understand what was going through Erza’s mind.

“Yes, for you. So that you get the answer you want from whoever you give those to,” Erza managed an awkward smile that tore at Mira’s heart as she finally put two and two together.

“Whoever I give them to?” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The hilarity of the situation too much for her to handle. Here she’d thought she’d been as brazen as could be, and all she’d accomplished was to make Erza think they were for someone else.

Erza didn’t seem to know how to react to Mira’s outburst. She peered at her before once again looking down.

“They’re for you, you dummy,” Mira wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in their group was staring at them with either curious eyes or knowing smiles.

“F-for me?” Erza stammered, her face turning as bright red as her hair once she realized her mistake. A tentative smile crossed her lips.

“Yes, for you,” Mira repeated, handing the bouquet over to Erza with a grin, waiting for her to say something.

“Did your added luck work in my favor?” Mira teased when Erza remained silent, although truth be told, she was starting to feel nervous.

Tears shimmered in Erza’s eyes as she nodded happily, taking out one last item from the bag she had brought from the store and handing it to Mira. It was the most beautiful bouquet Mira had ever seen, and she didn’t have to know anything about flowers to understand that Erza had poured all of herself into it.

They stared at each other, frozen in place by all the years they had spent hoping for this moment, imagining it in hundreds of different ways. Both desperate to take the next step but also terrified of what it would mean.

“Just kiss already,” Hana’s voice startled both of them out of their reverie, followed by the well-meaning laughs of their family and closest friends. She might have been only eight years old, but she’d managed to say what they had all been thinking.

So Erza and Mira did, neither one sure of who took the first step towards the other, or who’s lips pressed against who’s first. All they knew was that as awkward as the moment was, it was also perfect.

They were soon surrounded by the loud congratulations and, in some cases, happy tears of their family. Even though they were out in public, the promise of what was to come enough to make them both smile radiantly.

For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed the festivities with the others, walking hand in hand through the streets of Magnolia. They fed each other snacks from the many food carts that had gathered around the city center, watched Phantom Lord's live performance, slow dancing to some of their songs, and topping off the evening with soft kisses underneath the fireworks.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with more than they could’ve hoped for, but they both couldn't help but look forward to the moment when they were finally alone and could express their feelings more privately.

@femslashfairies​

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Potential (5/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~4400 words, light teen

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

She was in love with James Smith.

That daunting realization infiltrated her every thought for the rest of the day. Rose was surprised her manager didn’t yell at her for being so distant during her work shift, though she was moved from the register to the produce section after she’d nearly forgotten to accept a customer’s cash and was about to let them leave without paying for their fifty-dollars’ worth of food.

Cursing to herself, Rose tried to shove all thoughts of James bloody Smith out of her head so he wouldn’t be the reason she lost her decently-paying job, the job she desperately needed. But no matter what, he kept cropping back into her thoughts. The way his hand felt in hers. The way his hair stuck out at all angles because he couldn’t seem to stop running his fingers through it. (How she wanted to run her fingers through it.) The way he wore trousers that were far too tight but gave a delicious view of his legs and bum…

“Dammit,” Rose hissed as she realized she’d been stocking various types of apples all in the same crate.

Her coworker watched her with some amusement and mercifully came over to help her sift through the mess she’d made of the apple display.

It was a relief to clock off and go home for the night.

It was not a relief, however, to go to school in the morning.

She waited nervously in their chem lecture for James to arrive, wondering how the hell she was going to keep her head once he’d plonked down beside her. Once he smiled his beautiful smile at her. Once his soothing voice told her all about what he’d gotten up to on Sunday. Once his delicious smell pervaded her senses…

But as the professor strode into the lecture hall and began speaking, there was no sign of James. Rose didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed, but soon she didn’t have time to be either of them as she took page after page of notes on the lecture of quantum mechanics.

The fifty-minute lecture flew by, and when the professor released them for the day, Rose was worried that James hadn’t shown up. She grabbed her phone to text him, but saw a text from him instead.

I caught some sort of bug. Won’t be in today.

“Oh no,” Rose typed, adding the frowny emoji. “Get well soon!”

She then chewed her lip and typed, “I missed you in class.” She sent that text before she could overthink it, then she shoved her phone deep into her jacket as though that would alleviate any embarrassment that might come when she inevitably regretted that text message.

She made her way to the library, where she would be content to spend the next two hours. She didn’t have much homework, so while a tiny voice chastised her for not using the free time to study, Rose perused the fiction section for a book to read to pass the time. It had been ages since she’d read for fun.

She got lost in the novel, barely pulling back to reality in time for her noontime class. She hastily checked out the book so she could finish it later, then she jogged across campus and snuck into the classroom just as her Art of the Renaissance professor began speaking.

Rose had forgotten all about her text to James until she got home that night and grabbed her phone to input a project deadline into her calendar app.

Two messages were waiting for her. The first had been sent promptly in reply to her own. I missed being in class too. You’re a great table mate.

The next was time-stamped thirty minutes ago. I’ve got the bloody flu. He’d sent a series of emojis, ranging from the angry cursing face to the crying face to the sick face. I probably won’t be in for the rest of the week.

Her heart clenched, not only in sympathy for him, but more selfishly that she wouldn’t see him at all until next Monday.

“That sounds awful,” she replied. “I hope you feel better soon. Drink lots of fluids. Stay hydrated. Get some rest.”

He replied instantly.

I napped all afternoon and still feel exhausted. My body hurts. Breathing hurts. Existing hurts.

“Not at all dramatic, are you?”

Have you no pity for the dying?

Rose burst into giggles.

“I highly doubt you’re dying,” she said. “But if you are, I promise I’ll give an excellent eulogy at your funeral.”

What a comfort.

How was class?

“You picked a hell of a week to get the flu,” she said. “It’s the quantum chapter.”

Crap. I’m sorry.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

This is a complicated unit and I’m not gonna be there this week to study with you.

“I had meant that it’s a complicated chapter for YOU to miss out on,” she said. “Though I appreciate your selflessness and chivalry in thinking about me.”

The little dots that indicated he was typing a reply popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up again.

After a few minutes, he finally said, Oh, I’m a very quick learner. I’ll bet I could already teach this stuff.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Forget what I said about being selfless and chivalrous. You’re quite egotistical and arrogant. Not sure how your neck is strong enough to support your inflated head.”

James sent back the crying with laughter face. Then he said, In all seriousness though. If you need help, or want help, you can give me a call. Or text me. Or we can video chat. Though perhaps not today or even tomorrow. I’m quite exhausted.

“Don’t you worry about me,” she replied. “Focus on getting better. I’ll be fine.”

Okay. The offer still stands though.

But I’m about to pass out again. I’ll text you later. ‘Til then, Rose Tyler.

“Sleep well.”

oOoOo

While Rose was disappointed about James’s absence, she thought maybe it was a small blessing. It gave her a week to get over the ridiculous notion that she was in love with James, and to figure out how to force her brain to think of him as her friend.

She hoped that the longer she went without seeing him in person, the more her nerves would settle back to what they’d been before their trip to Philadelphia.

But she didn’t take into account their texts.

They spoke daily, and their conversations were rife with teasing banter that most certainly skated the line of flirting at least 99% of the time. Rose found herself looking forward to their nightly chats and was impatient to see him in person again.

The weekend finally arrived, and that Saturday, James texted, So I’m feeling loads better, and I’m not contagious anymore. Wanna meet up tomorrow and work on stuff? I’m going stir crazy sitting around my home.

“Sure,” she said, her heart thudding with the anticipation of seeing him. “I get off work at noon. Wanna meet in the library at twelve-thirty?”

Sounds good.

Rose was impatient for the rest of the weekend to go by, and when Sunday dawned, she packed her school stuff to take into work with her.

But she’d forgotten to bring more than her breakfast bagel, and by the time she’d clocked out and caught the bus to the university, she was starving.

James was waiting in the same study cubicle they always used, and she was disappointed that he hadn’t brought his usual hoard of snacks.

His face lit up when he saw her, and he jumped up from his chair. His face was a tad pale and gaunt, and he’d definitely lost a bit of weight, making his lanky frame look bonier than usual. But his eyes were bright and dancing as he skipped towards her, arms flung open.

She raised her arms just in time for him to crash into her. She clung to his shoulders as he lifted her up off her feet in a crushing hug.

“Oof,” she grunted when he gave her a tight squeeze. But it felt nice, so she returned the squeeze and buried her nose into the collar of his shirt. His scent filled her lungs, making her feel so at home.

“I missed you,” he crowed into her ear before setting her on her feet. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!”

“We texted every day,” she reminded him, but cursed herself when his smile slipped. She grinned at him, then bumped her hip against his. “But I missed you, too. Chemistry lecture was very lonely. I nearly moved seats to find a new table mate.”

“Rose Tyler!” His voice went high in indignation. “Am I that replaceable?”

“‘Course you are,” she drawled. At his pout, she gave him a wink. “Oh, you know you’re my favorite table mate.”

His cheeks pinkened.

“So,” she said quickly, “chemistry.”

He bobbed his head in a nod. “Chemistry. Shall we get to it?”

Rose plopped down in the seat beside him, and together, they poured over the homework sets that were due the next day.

It took nearly an hour to finish, and by the time they were done, Rose’s stomach was growling and gurgling nonstop. James had either not heard it, or pretended to not hear it. But as they slipped their finished homework into their respective folders, he said, “Y’know, I’m kind of starving. For something that isn’t soup. Wanna go grab lunch somewhere?”

“Yes please,” Rose said immediately. “I barely even ate breakfast this morning.”

“Where shall we go?” James mused as he unceremoniously stuffed his school things into his backpack. “Ooh! Wawa!”

Rose blinked. “What-what?”

James laughed. “Wawa. It’s a sort of fast-food place. You’ll see. Come on.”

He took her hand and threaded their fingers together as he guided her out of the library. They walked hand-in-hand across campus to the lot where he’d parked his car. She settled into the vehicle and let him drive her to whatever a Wawa was.

It was a petrol station.

Rose frowned at him, but he explained, “Food’s inside.”

James led her into the store front and to the kiosks where several customers were tapping away on the computer screen. They waited their turn, and when they stepped up to the computer, James said, “Just select whatever you want to order. They’ll make it, and call your number. Simple.”

He was quick with his order—he’d obviously been here before and had a favorite—but she slowly examined all the options, before building herself a chicken Caesar wrap. Rose had to admit the convenience of it was nice; she could pick out exactly what she wanted, all without even socializing with another human being.

“An introvert’s dream,” Rose said as they waited for their food.

“Indeed. I’ll have to take you to Sheetz sometime,” he said. “It’s very much like a Wawa. Both are specific to the east coast of the US, and they’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on among the locals as to which is better.”

“Which do you prefer?” Rose asked.

“I, unlike the majority of people, have no preference,” he said. “It’s all a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, but it can be entertaining to see people get up in arms about it.”

They got their lunch and headed back to the university to continue studying in preparation for the exam in three weeks.

oOoOo

The next three weeks passed in a blur. Somehow, it seemed all of her professors wanted to give their exams at the same time, and Rose frantically tried to balance all of her schoolwork on top of itself.

James was a saint, and happily worked around her schedule. When she asked if he needed any time to himself to study for his own exams, he replied simply, “I’ll study for my other classes on the days you study for yours.”

Weekends became their days to hole up in the library together and work on chemistry. Rose asked her boss for at least the afternoons off until this latest round of exams was over, and she was relieved that her boss obliged without a fuss.

The weekend before the second chemistry exam, Rose’s brain felt like mush. She’d had three other exams that week, and all she wanted to do was unplug from school. But she couldn’t, not without feeling guilty that she wasn’t working as hard as she should be.

It’s not healthy to over-work yourself, James had texted when she told him how she felt. If you want to take this weekend to recharge your batteries before the exam on Monday, that’s completely fine, Rose.

“I would if I was confident about the exam. But I don’t. I don’t know what to do. My brain is screaming at me that I’m unprepared, but it’s also screaming at me that I’m exhausted. Help.”

Maybe take Saturday to yourself? he suggested. Then we’ll bear down on Sunday?

“I need as much help as I can get. This exam MUST go better than the first one did.”

It will, he replied soothingly.

Rose huffed out a sigh and dug the heels of her palms into her tired eyes.

They did indeed meet up both days that weekend as Rose tried to cram as much information as she possible could into her strained brain. When she got home on Sunday night, she was exhausted and a little dejected. She still wasn’t confident in her knowledge of the material that would be on the exam.

But nevertheless, she went to bed early to get as much sleep as she could, and she made sure to eat a good breakfast before catching the bus into school.

The lecture hall was already packed when she got there, full of frantic students flipping through their notes. She tried to ignore them, lest their antics give her more anxiety than she already had, and she instead plopped into the chair beside James. He was slouched in his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, as he absently flipped his pencil end over end.

“Ready?” he asked when she’d pulled out her own pencil and a calculator.

“I’ve got no other option, do I?” she replied, her heart beginning to race with panic.

“It’ll be fine,” he said soothingly. “We’ve worked so hard at this. It’ll be fine. Just stay calm and work immediately on the problems you know how to do. Save the ones you’re uncertain with ‘til last.”

He continued his pep talk, and Rose tried to let the sound and cadence of his voice relax her as it usually did. But nothing he said helped, and soon her hands were trembling and her breakfast was a hard rock in her belly.

The professor strode into the lecture hall and barked at everyone to put their notes and phones away.

“And if I hear anybody’s phone go off during the test, they automatically get ten points knocked from their score,” she warned, scanning her eyes across everyone in the room.

Rose double checked that her phone was completely off before stuffing it into a pocket of her backpack.

When everyone was settled, the professor passed out the exams. James rested his hand on her thigh, and Rose nearly jumped out of her seat at the contact. His palm was warm through her jeans, and his thumb idly stroked her leg.

What the hell?

“Good luck, Rose,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, right as the professor told them to begin. He gave her leg a squeeze, then took his hand back to open the first page of his test.

Stupid bloody fucking James!

Rose took a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts as she forced her mind to focus on chemistry and the problems on the pages in front of her rather than how it had felt to have James’s hand on her thigh.

The sounds of pens and pencils scratching against paper filled the room, and Rose once more took a calming breath before she began to read her test.

The time went by in a blur of numbers and chemicals and panic. She was barely aware of James when he stood up out of his chair to hand in his exam after only a half hour.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Rose was near tears when the professor called out that there were five minutes left, but she still had several blank pages. She blinked them away and began writing the first things that came to her mind when she read the problems.

It was both a mercy and an agony when the professor ordered them to turn in the exams. On one hand, she was done. On the other, she didn’t think it had gone well. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

Her hand and back were aching as she walked out of the lecture hall and towards the doors.

“Oi, you were just gonna leave me here?!”

She squeaked when a familiar hand wrapped around her bicep.

“James! I thought you would’ve left by now. You finished ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to wait for you. So what did you think?”

She shrugged and hummed noncommittally, but said, “If it’s all right, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“That’s fair.” He beamed. “We’re finished!” He opened up his arms for a hug, and it was second nature to her by now to lean into his chest. “No matter what, it’s finished, so you can stop worrying.”

“Well, at least for another month ‘til exam three hits.”

“Don’t be such a downer,” he said, poking her ribs. “Now what? My next class was cancelled so I’m free for the rest of the day.”

Rose thumbed behind herself to her backpack as she said, “I brought my camera. I’d planned on taking some photos of campus to help me relax from this ordeal. Wanna come with me?”

He nodded eagerly, and she linked her arm through his and walked outside. The frigid November air bit at her nose, making it sting and burn. It was a gorgeous day, otherwise. The sky was a deep, clear blue with no clouds in sight, and despite it being the beginning of November, there were still quite a few colorful leaves on the trees. They shimmered like glittering jewels in the late morning sun.

Rose breathed in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of autumn.

“This is my favorite season,” James said from beside her.

“Mine too. Everything’s beautiful. Spring is my next favorite, because everything’s so colorful and fresh.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Does this area get much snow in the winter time? London rarely got anything more than an occasional dusting.”

“It all depends,” James said. “Last year, we got a huge blizzard at the end of January. But the year before that, we hardly got anything. Winter is fickle around here. But yeah, there are usually a few snow or ice storms. I’m sure that’ll be pretty to photograph.”

“I can’t wait,” she said. She guided him to one of the abstract statues on the edge of the walkway, and rested her backpack on the base of the statue. She rifled through her bag and gently lifted out her camera.

“Wow, that’s a beauty!”

Pride shot through Rose as she slipped the strap around her neck.

“This was a gift to myself,” she said. “When I finished my A-levels. It’s the most money I’d ever spend on myself.” She turned the camera on, and when she fiddled with a few settings, she pointed it towards James. “Smile.”

He grinned, and her heart clenched at the sheer joy on his face as she froze that expression in time.

Pleased with the photo, she turned around and took a photo of a wooden bench, its paint peeling from age.

“Let’s get higher up the mountain,” James said. “There’s a perfect view from the physics building.”

Their hike up the campus was slow as Rose snapped photos of anything that snagged her artistic interest. Some photos were crap, and she would delete those later, but she was pleased with other ones.

James was more than happy to model for her, and even when he wasn’t striking a pose, she managed to get a few candid shots of him. Those were her favorite, when she caught him unawares. She loved capturing his essence as he gestured wildly with his arms, deep in a rattling explanation of something. As his tall, lithe body moved fluidly as he walked. As the chill air frosted in front of his lips whenever he breathed. As the sun sent flares of red and gold through his rich brown hair.

She fell a little more in love with him as she photographed everything that made him James.

Thankfully, he seemed to be utterly unaware.

“Look at that, Rose Tyler!”

They’d made it to the physics building, an old stone building that looked more like a castle than an academic building. She ignored the view in favor of photographing the beautiful architecture.

But when she turned around, her lungs hitched. The view was perfect. The university sprawled before them, and beyond it was the sleepy little city it was nestled within. The buildings shone in the brilliant sunshine, and all around, trees were shot through with reds and yellows and browns.

“Not bad, eh?” James said smugly.

“I suppose it’s all right.” But her tone fell short of indifference at the sheer awe she felt in this moment. She turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for bringing me up here. Even if my thighs are killing me.”

“Imagine hiking this path every day,” he said with an exaggerated shudder.

Rose turned away from him to snap a few photos of the view. Then she played with a few settings, and said, “Can I take a photo of you?”

“You haven’t asked to take any of the other billion photographs you’ve been snapping of me.”

So he had noticed. Oops.

She just shrugged and backed away a few steps to get the best angle for the shot.

oOoOo

That night, Rose was inordinately pleased with all of the photographs she’d taken of campus. She’d moved everything to her laptop, and was sprawled on her sofa in her pajamas as she sifted through the ones she wanted to keep and edit.

She found herself staring at the photos of James more than she probably should have. But she couldn’t help herself. He was beautiful, and he really made for a wonderful photography model. His entire being was so expressive, from the way he held his body to his multitude of facial expressions.

Just as she was saving her work for the night, her phone buzzed. James.

So… I had a thought.

Rose smirked at her phone, and waited for him to continue. But after five minutes and still nothing, she asked, “And are you going to share this thought or were you just making a generic statement that you do, indeed, think?”

Smartarse.

So we just took an exam.

(Which I’m sure you nailed, btw.)

And we’ve been working so hard that I thought we should take some time to relax. Not put too much time into studying as much.

Rose’s stomach sank. Was he trying to tell her he wanted a break from her? Had she become too clingy and desperate? Oh, God, did he realize she was head over heels in love with him and he was deeply uncomfortable with her blatant flirtation?

She didn’t know what to text, because her brain was empty except for the crushing mortification and sadness.

A minute later her phone dinged.

Tomorrow’s election day. And I have a little tradition for election nights.

I order pizza and drink wine and play some sort of game whilst watching the results.

The band around her chest slowly eased, and Rose waited to see if he was actually implying what she thought he was implying.

So, Rose Tyler… how would you like to have a sleepover?

A sleepover? A sleepover. Oh. Oh!

Her cheeks warmed.

We could crash at my house and gorge ourselves on pizza and… hang out.

Rose stared at the little ellipses in front of ‘hang out’. Was that supposed to be a euphemism?

God, she wished she were in the same room as him to get any clues at all about his intentions from his body language. Was he all cocky smiles and wiggling eyebrows, or was he stuttering over his words and red-faced as he made a mess of his hair? Did he mean for them to simply hang out, or to… hang out and have a sleepover?

Rose didn’t think James would be the kind of bloke to ask her to come over for a mindless fuck, but…

Only if you want to, of course. I’ve got a spare bedroom you can crash in. But if you’re not comfortable spending the night with me, I totally get it. I could drive you home after the results. Or we could hang out at your place and I’ll leave after the results are over.

Oh, blimey! Or you don’t even have to say yes! I’m sure you’ve got loads of other assignments to catch up on. If you wanted a quiet night to yourself that is totally 100000% okie dokie just let me know.

Rose giggled at her daft James. Of course he wasn’t asking for a one-night stand. Ever the gentlemen. She was ashamed that a tiny piece of her brain even considered the notion that James would ask for such a thing.

Now, about his offer. What did he mean by it? Was this something special? Like a date?

Or was she simply reading too much into this, and it was just James being James, asking her to hang out as friends.

A mate-date, she remembered fondly.

She had to admit, it would be nice to relax with James without the stress of chemistry. Even if she wished it was an actual date-date instead of a mate-date, she couldn’t say no to spending time with the boy who had inexplicably become one of her closest friends.

“Pizza and hanging out with my best mate?” Rose typed, her chest warming with anticipation. “Sounds like a great night to me.”

His reply came immediately in the form of five grinning emojis.

[summoner-kentauris]

plotbunny zachfonse coffee shop au that im probably never going to finish but i thought you guys might enjoy it nonetheless!

It’s seven thirty one exactly on Monday morning, and Sharena runs into the café like hel on fire.

Alfonse stops wiping down the counter and does a double take. Sharena has a schedule, but it’s a very particular one. He’s never, ever seen her face before ten am, usually not until eleven-twenty, when she comes scattering in with at least one of her roommates in tow, grabbing a quick latte before grinning and bustling out of the door in a vain attempt to not be late to her eleven-fifteen class.

“Hiya!” she says loudly, and plunks her bag on the counter like it’s full of a ton of rocks. It makes a loud THUNK noise, and Alfonse winces.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, in a whisper that still manages to hover over the tranquil morning atmosphere in the shop.

“Are you late for something?” he asks suspiciously.

The somber girl standing beside and behind Sharena cracks a smile at that.

“Al!” Sharena exclaims. “I would never be late for a midterm.”

“Calculus-” the girl pipes up.

“That was one time-”

“Sharena!”he interrupts, and pats the air gently. This time, it’s Sharena wincing.

“Sorry,”she says again.

She’s certainly gotten herself worked up over whatever midterm this is, though, that wouldn’t be quite unusual. Still, Alfonse is having a hard time figuring out just what has inspired this early morning energetic panic. A study session too, if the weight of her bookbag is any indication. Looking at Sharena’s friend isn’t any help, either. Reese is hard to read on the best of days, and today she is sporting one of her many impassive stares.

“What class?” he asks.

“History.” They both answer immediately, simultaneously, with one unusually distraught groan each.

He’s a little taken aback. “I...thought you both liked your history class? What happened?”

Sharena wiggles a little and then settles into her we-ELL have I got some news posture, only to be interrupted by Reese throwing down some scattered coins onto the counter and grabbing Sharena’s arm.

“New professor, long story,” she says gruffly. “Let’s go Ray, we’re running low on time.”

“The usual?” he’s forced to call after them, as they wind their way to their favorite tall chairs at the corner table.

Reese waves her arm nonchalantly, and then they disappears into a haze of planning and papers.

He sighs, and breathes in, and takes stock of the returning calm quiet. Sharena and Reese are not the only ones swamped by paperwork this morning. All of Alfonse’s regulars are here today. Sitting outside today is the healer, a short nifl man whose light skin is splotchy red from the sunburn he got falling asleep out there yesterday. His godsawful shift at the hospital ends at six-thirty in the morning, and he originally had taken to pacing around on the sidewalk outside until opening like a lost puppy right up until the day Alfonse just shook his head and started letting him in. He’s deep into his third espresso and fourth newspaper. At the table on the other side of the door are the artist twins from down the street. They’re Askran, both with deep magenta hair. One keeps hers in a braid, the other keeps hers mostly cut off, and that’s about the only way to tell the two apart. That and a teeny little scar one of them has about her left purple eye.  Alfonse is pretty sure they come from serious money, given he’s never seen them actually engage in making art, but they do talk nonstop about what they’ve bought. They’re signing energetically back and forth over an intimidatingly tall mountain of photographs. More than once, they’ve gotten too animated and knocked over their drinks. Alfonse wonders idly if he should go ahead re-drag out the supplies out for their long, complicated, terrifyingly expensive order.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the shop there are a few locals on laptops. Then in the front there is his friend Anna napping on her notebook next to a hot chocolate she never drinks. Her curly red ponytail in flopped over her face, and she’d be embarrassed if Alfonse ever told her she snores, just a little. It usually means she’s having...well, she calls them good dreams, but often they lead her to try implementing some hare-brained scheme for the shop. Smushed up with her nose metaphorically against the window is the Múspellian. She’s short, with deep, dark skin and pure orange hair that she keeps slicked back in the most severe and ‘i’m mature’ of ponytails. She’s too young to be from the college, and Alfonse has worried more than once about her. She never talks, though. Alfonse doesn’t even know her name. She came in once with a firefighters helmet though, and as soon as Sharena found out she immediately declared to a doubtful Alfonse that this meant the girl was a firefighter, or perhaps a firefighter intern, whatever such a thing may be.

And then of course in the back there is the new guy. New guy. New guy is tall and buff, intimidating and elegant. He’s got sunkissed skin that is a saturated medium brown, and the one time his large black and gold-rimmed sunglasses slipped he had underneath the most intriguing, defiant pair of eyes. One, a red color that, alarmingly, seemed to almost reflect and refract like a melted gem, the other a faint, rich gold. Alfonse has spent more time hoping New Guy’s glasses would slip again that he would like to admit, but he only hopes it because Alfonse can’t get a read on him otherwise. He doesn’t actually ever get anything other than water, but puts good coffee money in the tip jar. Other than a soft ‘good morning’ and precise pleases and thank yous, new guy doesn’t talk either, none of the Morning Regulars really ever do, but he, less than most. Unlike the other regulars, New Guy is composed in the mornings and completely free of the kinds of small tells and fidgeting details Alfonse would usually use to spin stories about his customers.

He has a routine, of course. He’s there’s every weekday promptly at 7:07, so Alfonse figures he’s taking the 7:05 aetherail into the city. Not only does he have the one Emblian red eye, but he’s also got Emblian hair, beautifully long, tantalizingly fluffy and pastel white. Yet despite the current diplomatic tension, he’s here, in Askr, five days a week. And unless he’s taking the hours-long commute from one country to another, he lives here. More contradictions, he dresses in an oddly formal, precise, businesswear that’s both charmingly antique and blisteringly modern, the kind of coldly fashionable style that is ragingly popular among the high-power suits-and-slacks businesspeople downtown. But, who has coffee uptown when he has to be downtown for work? And he has to disembark from the aetherail to boot, which means he’d have to take the metroway to continue, and everyone in the city takes the metroway from time to time, certainly, but in all the weeks he’s been coming here Alfonse has never seen the man so much as brush up against another person, dodging contact gracefully and subtly even when a collision seemed, to Alfonse’s practiced eye, inevitable…

Alfonse shakes his head and drags himself back to the present. Mystery man is a puzzle Alfonse shouldn’t be so focused on now, or really, ever. New guy has his water for the day, and his single large off-brand e-reader instead of his occasional neat stacks of paper, which means he’s busy, much like Alfonse should be. Midterms hadn’t snuck up on Alfonse, but Sharena’s arrival was a reminder that he needed to be at his most alert for the next few days.

He rolls the momentary tension out of his shoulders, finishes wiping down the counter, and then dives back into the daily work of keeping his little coffee shop running.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Navin Week Day 1: Thanksgiving

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Nic Blake

Summary: Nic goes on a trip down memory lane and brings Gavin with her

Word count: 2.2k+

From the moment they met, Gavin knew Nic didn’t get along with her family. He never met her parents, and didn’t push to unless she wanted him to. And from the start she made it clear that she was not in any way ashamed of him, but of her parents. When Nic moved to Detroit she only brought with her the memories she wanted, leaving behind practically her whole life. Sometimes Gavin felt guilty about this, and Nic would remind him she did it of her own free will. She hasn’t looked back since, so when she came to Gavin one afternoon and told him she wanted to visit her hometown for Thanksgiving, Gavin was taken by surprise. He loved his wife, he really did, but sometimes her ideas were questionable at best. But upon seeing the pleading look in her eyes, he agreed without question.

He took a week off from work since they’d be in Virginia Beach for a week. Nic seemed excited, she talked nearly nonstop on the flight about all of her old stomping grounds that she was going to take him to. The hotel they were staying at was right by the beach which Nic did purposely. By the time they landed she was practically vibrating in her seat. A taxi ride to the car rental office and they headed to unpack. It was much warmer than Gavin expected—he was only used to weather in Detroit. While it was still chilly, there was no snow which only slightly surprised him. By early November Detroit was normally covered in a thin layer of white but there was just a bitter cold that wrapped the city of Virginia.

Gavin noticed Nic’s driving was much better than it was in Detroit. He figured it had something to do with that she grew up on these streets and knew how native Virginians drove. The hotel was nice, Nic having booked them a room with a balcony that overlooked the beach (“We call it the Oceanfront, the Beach is the city. You’ll get used to the slang.” She explained as some point). It was only eleven in the morning so Nic eagerly requested that she drive him all the way to her favorite childhood bakery in the next city, Norfolk. It was at least an hour drive to said bakery, and upon arrival Nic was bouncing on her heels as she dragged him to the mud green, rusty exterior bakery with large words on the sign saying “The French Bakery”. His wife quickly explained how she had been going there since she was small and that she knew the owners almost personally. This reigned true as she opened the door, a small bell ringing and an older middle eastern gentleman coming from the back to greet the customers only to break out in a grin and calling Nic by an old name long forgotten. She smiled and once they reached the counter, she leaned over and hugged him as he exclaimed that it had been too long since her last visit. She introduced Gavin who was greeted just as warmly, however he felt out of place. Nic ordered two pastrami sandwiches along with a long list of desserts that Gavin knew would give them both stomach aches that night. In his opinion they spent too much money but the grin on his wife’s face made it worth it. As they drove back to their hotel, both eating their lunch and making a mess of the front seats, Nic went on to tell him how she was surprised to find the bakery still open and how she expected it be out of business. Gavin listened intensely, devouring his meal and coming to the conclusion that the expense was well spent.

They spent the afternoon unpacking and eating the desserts bought, and both went to bed with stomach aches. Nic said it was worth it.

The next morning Gavin woke up early and ordered room service, wanting to get an early start that day. Nic woke up at half past seven, and that was late in Nic’s opinion. She woke up to pancakes with blueberry syrup and a cup of coffee, and Gavin half soaked wearing nothing but a towel as he stepped out of the shower.

That day she took him to the golf course with a long winded story of how that exact golf course is where she had her seventh birthday party and she hadn’t played a game of golf since. Her inexperience showed as she lost the game, a score of 130 to Gavin’s 80. He still questioned how she managed to get such a high score on an 18 hole course. After the game they got lunch at one of the many restaurants that rested on the strip that was the Oceanfront. Many shops were closed, Nic telling him that they normally closed for the winter since there weren’t any tourists. Virginia was a tourist heavy spot during the summer, something Nic loathed in her youth. After lunch, Gavin was dragged to the many stores that stayed open. Some of them had useless souvenirs, others had neat collectibles or stones that seemed to interest Nic. She left Virginia at nineteen and coming back home after nearly a decade gave her a large wave of nostalgia. She wanted to show Gavin everything she enjoyed, although they only had a week which wasn’t enough time in her opinion.

That night, she dragged Gavin to her favorite barbecue restaurant. It was the best barbecue Gavin had in a while and he was disappointed that it’s so far away. He joked a bit that they’d have to fly down to Virginia again if he ever gets in the mood for barbecue. That night was the first time Gavin has also seen Nic so relaxed. She really seemed to be enjoying this trip on memory lane, focusing on all of the positives.

They went to bed that night in a pile of limbs as they cuddled, Gavin suggesting they come back again for her birthday.

The next few days were blurs as Nic dragged him to several different places, all of which held special places in her memory. At one point, Nic brought him to her old high school to visit her favorite World History teacher who happened to still be teaching at that school. They talked to the class, a mix of freshmen, sophomores, and juniors, with a lone senior. Some of students seemed to be fascinated with Nic, asking mostly questions about college and studying advice since she had been in their exact spot. She was disappointed when it was time to leave, but she managed to catch her old English teacher as well last minute as they were leaving campus. He told her about the Holiday Thrift Shop the school held every year about Thanksgiving. Nic insisted to Gavin they go before leaving for Detroit. They did go, buying some trinkets such as healing rings that Nic insisted on using for her wrists.

The second to last of their trip was Thanksgiving Day, and Nic has something special planned for them. She drove them out for two hours, not bothering to tell Gavin where they were headed. The moment Gavin notices the sign with the word “cemetery” in it, he had a good feeling what was going on. They parked in the loop, walked through the crunchy, frost covered grass down rows and rows of gravestones. They finally arrived at the gravestone with two familiar names and dates. Those names and dates were tattooed on Nic’s forearm.

With hands stuffed in her pockets, Nic spoke quietly. “Hey grandma, hey grandpa.” She smiled softly, and Gavin saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I know it’s been a long time… too long, honestly. But I didn’t forget about you. I didn’t forget about where I came from. I just needed a chance to find me.” She shrugged, giving a teary smile to the grave. “I found her. I had to lose a lot of family on the journey but… I think it was worth it. Besides, they wouldn’t like who I am now anyways. I know you two would though. Yeah, you were always proud of me no matter what.” Nic looked over at Gavin and held out her hand to him. He took it, tangling their fingers together as he rubbed his thumb over her wedding ring. “I want y’all to meet someone.” Gavin almost laughed. Her accent had gotten stronger since being there. “This is my husband, Gavin. He’s really good to me, and I love him a lot. I know if given the chance, y’all would have loved him too.”

He cleared his throat, not wanting to intrude in the moment but feeling the need to speak. “I promise I’ll take care of her.” He brought her hand up and kissed it. “Always.”

On the way back from the cemetery, Nic stopped by a small family owned diner. She ate there every time she would visit her grandparents’ grave and got to know the family that owned it. It originally owned by a lovely old woman named Ruth, and her husband. They have children, and two of their daughters worked in the diner alongside their parents. After the passing of Ruth and her husband, their oldest daughter took over the diner along with her sister, now both sisters and their children ran it. To say the diner was family friendly was an understatement. Nic insisted that Gavin get the clam chowder, her favorite soup of all time. He enjoyed it a lot more than he expected.

That evening, they went to the gift shop on the boardwalk and got some fudge. Nic got it every time she went to the Oceanfront and stated that it was the last thing she ate before leaving Virginia. She got half a pound of her favorite dark chocolate caramel sea salt fudge. Gavin got a pound which gave him the option to pick four different flavors. He picked peanut butter, red velvet, chocolate pecan, and white chocolate. The fudge ended up being their dinner, once again giving the couple stomach aches to nurse for the night.

Their last day was more intimate. They spent a good portion of it in the hotel room, watching tv on the crappy hotel television and listening to the waves. Come afternoon, Nic went out to the beach to have a walk. She was barefoot and in shorts, walking in the shallow part of the ocean where the water barely reached her ankles. Gavin joined her after a few moments, not wanting her to experience this alone. Hand in hand, they walked the length of the beach and back in comfortable silence. The waves and the cawing of crows and hooting of pigeons filled their silence. They watched the sunset, night blanketing the earth and making the air too chilly for their liking. They went back inside the hotel, opting to take a nice warm shower to combat the cool air.

Gavin sat on the bed, flipping through channels with the remote in an effort to fight off the boredom gnawing at his mind as he waited for her to get out. God, he thought, she always takes the longest showers. When Nic finally did, pajamas on and hair still soaked despite ten minutes of drying it, she sat down in front of Gavin, smiling softly. He shut off the tv.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers and playing with his scarred, calloused fingers.

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I had a lot of fun.” There was a pause. “If you ever want to do this again, just let me know. I’ll take off and we can fly down, whether just for a day or a week, or a month…”

Nic snorted. “I cannot stay for a whole month. I would go insane. Virginia gets pretty boring after a while.”

“With the places you took me, hardly seems like there’s a dull moment.”

She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah well, I took you to the fun places.” Her smile dropped as fell into deep thought.

Gavin knew that look. “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“Just…” she sighed, going back to playing with his fingers, “thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’m not gonna lie, when I planned this trip… I wanted you to meet my parents.”

“Nico–”

“I decided against it on the flight here. I realized, I should focus on the things that make me happy, like you and fudge and buying stupid souvenirs that we are never going to look at again.” She laughed, and Gavin laughed with her. “The positive memories are what made me come back, the negative ones should stay in the past.”

“I know you tell me how happy I make you, and I don’t doubt you about it, but…” Gavin tried to think of the right words. He never was a words guy. Hell, Abby helped him with his vows. But Nic didn’t marry him for his words. He continued, “But this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time. Your smile? I haven’t seen that one since our wedding day. So, once I saw that smile that you only break out for the purest moments, I knew this would be good for you.”

Nic tackles him onto the bed, her chin resting on his chest. “You’re so sappy.”

“Only for you.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I love you.”

“I love you too, nerd.”

[skygemspeaks]

Boy, can I tell you a terrible thing?

Part 1 (you are here)

A spin-off of the lovely and talented @realisticallycynical​‘s In the rough which, as it happens, was based off of my Royalty AU.

Victor and Yuuri don’t get their happily ever after.

Not right away, at least.

It starts off on a deceptively normal day.

Yuuri is out on the training grounds, practicing his swordsmanship against one of the prince’s guards, Otabek Altin.

They’ve been sparring, nonstop, for the past half hour and have worked up a good sweat. A decent crowd has gathered around them, hooting and cheering for their favourite. The support is split pretty eveny, something that still surprises Yuuri to this day, how easily he was able to fit in with this group, how readily they accepted him as one of their own.

But then, just as Yuuri dodges an attack, he feels something snap, and he freezes short as his long, waist-length hair falls free of its usual tight knot at the base of his skull.

“Wait-” he gasps, panicking as he dodges back out of the path of Otabek’s sword.

Otabek doesn’t seem to hear him. Or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care.

Yuuri scrambles back, lifting his sword to block, but without watching where he’s going, it’s inevitable that he trips and goes crashing to the ground.

Otabek’s eyes widen, but it’s too late for him to stop his swing. Yuuri ducks his head to protect it, and as he crashes to the ground, he hears the telltale snip of a blade cutting through hair.

It takes him a moment to realize what’s happened, but as his now shoulder-length hair unravels from its braid to fall around his face, he feels the blood turn to ice in his veins.

Around him, the rest of the guards who had all been watching the fight breathe out sighs of relief as they realize that Yuuri hasn’t been injured, that only his hair had been cut.

But then, Yuuri lets out a long, keening wail, grasping desperately at the short strands.

The men immediately jump forward, worried that he’s gotten hurt after all.

Yura is the first person to reach Yuuri, his expression frantic.

“What’s wrong, katsudon?” he demands, brushing his hair aside to check his face and neck for cuts.

“My hair!” gasps Yuuri, sobbing.

Yura looks at him in astonishment for a moment, before falling back with a huff. “Don’t scare me like that!” he chastises. “I thought Beka had cut off your ear or something! Viktor would never have let me hear the end of it.”

All but a few of the men around them laugh at Yura’s words.

Yuuri looks around at them, expression frozen in something between fury and grief.

“Come on, piggy,” he says, “At least now you can get a more practical haircut eh?”

He reaches out, as if to punch Yuuri in the arm (a gesture of affection, in Yura’s case), but Yuuri recoils.

He doesn’t say anything, instead reaching down to pick up the severed braid.

Slowly, the others seem to realize that something isn’t quite right.

But before any of them can ask what’s wrong, Viktor shows up on the scene (no doubt having heard Yuuri’s cry of anguish minutes before).

He takes one look at Yuuri, sees that he doesn’t seem to be injured, and collapses next to him with a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness you’re okay!” he gushes, reaching out for a hug.

Yuuri pulls away.

Viktor looks confused.

“Yuuri?” he asks. “Are you worried about your hair? You don’t have to be! I think short hair really suits you! You look wonderful!”

And that. Those words right there. Are the final straw.

Fingers clenching into fists, Yuuri stands abruptly.

And the look he sends all of them is so unlike his usual friendly self, so full of burning fury and loathing, that it sends them all reeling.

He stomps off without another word, Viktor stays on the ground watching him, confused and hurt by his actions.

“What...the hell...was that?” demands Yura, staring after the man he had begrudgingly started to think of as something like a brother. He turns to look back at Otabek, ready to reassure him, only to find his friend staring down at his sword with a complicated expression on his face.

“Beka?” asks Yura, getting up to approach him. “What’s wrong?”

“I cut his hair...” he whispers quietly to himself, eyes wide.

“So what?” asks Yura, seeming confused. “It’s just hair.”

And in the end, Chris is the one to answer him.

“Forgive my rudeness, highness, but...are you an idiot? Yuuri is Yutopian. You should know more than anyone that it’s not “just hair” to him. It’s an important part of his faith. Otabek might as well have cut off an arm or a leg.”

And Yura draws up short. Because of course he’d known that. Everyone and their mother knew how much the Yutopians valued their hair - it was a core part of their religion, their way of life.

They almost never cut their hair if they could help it, and when they did, there was great ceremony and even, oftentimes, grieving.

(“It is our belief that the Creator made us exactly as we were meant to be,” Yuuri had explained in that same patient voice when Yura had asked him the question. “We are perfect, from the moment we are born, and to intentionally change any part of our bodies, by cutting our hair in this example, is to spit in the face of They who had given us life.”

Yura sits back, brows furrowed.

“That’s weird.”

Yuuri doesn’t reply, just laughs lightly and turns back to brushing out his waist-length black locks.)

It’s just that...Yuuri always fit in so well with them, Yura had started thinking of him as one of them. It was just so easy to forget that he wasn’t one of them. Not really. He’d grown up in a different country, with different customs and values and ways of life.

Growling in frustration, Yura turns to run after his friend, dragging his brother along behind him.

A good portion of their men follow, worried about their friend and feeling guilty for upsetting him even more than he already was.

But that’s the thing about Yuuri. Despite having been at the palace for less than a year, he knows it already like the back of his hand. And when Yuuri doesn’t want to be found, only an act of God could possibly reveal him.

They search for him for the better part of an hour, before Viktor finally decides to give up and go back to their chambers to wait for his beloved bodyguard.

Seconds later, a loud, keening wail tears through the halls, and Yura and Otabek are at Viktor’s chambers in a split second.

The prince is kneeling in his doorway, tears pouring from his eyes, and as Yura peers into his room, he immediately feels himself go cold.

Not only is Yuuri nowhere to be seen, but his belongings have also disappeared, leaving the room feeling lonely and desolate.

Turning, Yura immediately starts barking orders at Otabek, telling him to send his men out to search for their wayward friend.

Nishigori Yuuri must be found at all costs!

Katsuki Yuuri arrives finally returns home two days later, at the break of dawn.

The night still hangs heavy in the air, and only the first streaks of pink and orange are beginning to stretch over the horizon.

The night guards stand sleepily at their post, tired after a long and dreadfully dull shift.

They have mere minutes to go before they are relieved of their position, and both are already looking forward to collapsing into their beds when they notice a cloaked figure approaching the gates.

“Halt!” they call, stepping together to block the stranger’s way. “What business have you?” demands one of them.

A hand is drawn out of the cloak, and both guards tense in case of an attack, only to freeze when they see the ring glinting on the stranger’s finger - the royal crest glinting at them in the morning light.

The stranger looks up at them, and both feel their breath catch when they lay eyes upon their beloved prince for the first time in months.

“Your highness!” they call, voices excited, as they drop into respectful bows. “Forgive our rudeness! We hadn’t realized it was you! Please accept our warmest welcome on your return home! You have been greatly missed in your absence!”

Normally, this would be when the prince would laugh, would wave off their “excessive” politeness and greet them both with hugs.

But when the prince doesn’t reply, both guards look up, and for the first time notice the red rimming his beautiful brown eyes.

“Your highness? Are you alright?” one of them asks, worried.

They step closer to their prince, and that’s when they notice it - his beautiful, silky black locks, so much shorter than they ought to be, falling only just past his shoulders.

The guard clenches his fists at his side, the anger rolling off him in waves.

“Who did this!?” he demands, angry, so angry on behalf of his prince.

His prince attempts a feeble smile.

“I must speak with my family,” he says, not answering the question.

The guards reluctantly step aside to let him through, and watch their prince’s slowly retreating.

Katsuki Mari is awoken at the break of dawn by the captain of her personal guard, Okukawa Minako.

The woman looks as impeccable as always, her long chestnut hair twisted into a simple, neat warrior’s knot on the crown on her head.

Her expression is severe, her white knuckled hands held stiffly at her sides.

Mari jumps up in alarm.

“Is something wrong?” she demands, and Minako looks away.

“Your brother has returned. He wishes to speak to you.”

The surge of almost crippling relief that surges through her when she hears that her baby brother is back is almost immediately crushed when she lays eyes on him.

His eyes are wide and red, his lips trembling. His usually neat black hair hands messy around his shoulders.

“Mari-nee-” he sobs, collapsing into her arms.

He sobs the whole story to her right then and there, and in the end, it takes about four hours of persuasion from not only Minako and Yuuri, but both her parents as well, in order to convince Mari not to declare war on their neighbours.

To Be Continued

[duckbeater]

The Sea of Faith, pt. 1

M showed me his penis a week or so after Carl slept over at his condo. He hoped I would weigh in on a red spot that was neither a pimple from razor burn nor—M had done a frenzied hour or so of Google image comparisons—a herpes rash or an HPV wart or a syphilitic chancre. I didn’t make the obvious connection. In fact, most of my records from that night (including my previous, loosely written one), indicate Carl had made quite the nuisance of himself—too much so to fuck around. He tracked mud onto the carpets and sullied a sea green sofa; he tried smoking inside, first a cigarette and then, after Ben had wrested those away, and M and Ben had believed him pacified, a careful handful of childishly rolled up leaves from a beloved silk pothos. It did not ignite but smoldered sourly. His appetite piqued by all the crawling and tottering, he asked for an egg, two eggs, over-medium, and wheat toast—and ate standing. After a dry dog yowl—huge gloppy vomit—then strings of yolk dripping out his nose. Somehow he managed to pass out on the futon. M removed his wet shoes and pants, and Ben turned his head. They had cleaned his face and dried his eyes (a detail that reminds me of the times I’ve yarked so hard, my eyes streamed tears without sadness); now he was blanketed, pillowed, sound asleep.

But until he collapsed, Carl talked more or less nonstop. He mumbled questions about the decoration, about their “arrangement”—“How long have you two been ‘exclusive’?”—deploying air quotes, saying too that he was just waiting for John to text, just a little howdy-doody, “My ‘John’ …”—but probably, so late, John was asleep… then moved to a discussion of the neighborhood. All this in a soft loop, this blather. He apologized in an offhand way, also repeatedly, for “crowding their scene.” When M explained this to me, I said, “Oh, he was waiting for the invitation to join you in bed. It’s not at all weird that even very drunk he kept priorities around sex. What a lizard. You were his little rock to lie on.”

“I don’t have a little rock,” said M.

“Why did you make that dumb fuck an egg sandwich?” I replied.

“It was very late and all our other attempts at drunk person diplomacy had failed.”

This summary took place before the penis picture. We were walking together down Clark, he tall and I short, two limp lightning bolts in sweat-soaked gym clothes. M was supposed to be taking a bus back after our Fro-Yo, but we were letting them glide north while we continued to stroll south. The evening air smelled of lavender from Andersonville’s many decorative beds (the flowers pressed a little from a light summery thundershower), with the usual notes of misty wet road and car exhaust. Also, from no discernible source, garlic bread.

“What was the morning like?” I asked.

M said, “Not awesome. He was not waking up in time for my work, so I left him with Ben, and he did not wake up in time for Ben’s drive back to Michigan, so then Ben left him with a note.”

“Did he pee the bed?”

“No.”

“Did he smell bad?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Man,” I said, “how unpleasant. Carl didn’t talk anymore about Trump?”

“No.”

“Did you see him again?”

“Nope,” said M, “he slipped away I guess in the afternoon.”

“How are him and John?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Do you have any greater sense of who this creature was, who you brought into your home, fed, stripped, tucked safely to sleep? He has used you in every way short of writing your address a shitty Airbnb review, and you can’t give me—”

“Evan,” M cut in, “what you really want are details to put into your stories, and for now, I’m fine, I’m quite fine with the…” He searched for a word.

“Paucity?” I supplied. “The paucity of detail?”

“Carl’s amazing vanishing act.” Then M remembered something: “He did end up smoking in the house! He did! I came home and the whole fucking place smelled like an ashtray!”

“What a horrible dumb fuck!” I said, relishing this detail, luxuriating in it as amorously as a cat who’s found sun-warmed wood to lie on. I actually began to kneed M’s back, purring like an idiot, fingers meeting tensed muscles through his shirt.

“That fucking tickles!” he screamed, then pivoted, and held both my hands in his. “This is my bus,” he said. “Tell Daniel I said, ‘Make more money!’”

“Okay, tell Ben I said, ‘Pull more teeth!’”

He rolled his eyes and then, as is M’s custom, kissed me much too deeply, much too wetly on the mouth, and before I’d opened my eyes (for I have made it my custom to close my eyes, and to imagine, with all attendant melancholy, what my life with M would have been like), ah, he was gone.

—

Whenever I’ve wrecked myself on booze in front of strangers, I assumed there was no saving it. I reasoned I’d never see those victims again, and that over the course of months, in a city full of strangers drinking themselves to tatters in front of other strangers, those victims would forget my face. My holding this belief accounts for some of my surprise (and some of my admiration) on finding Carl’s friend request when I got home. In fact his tactic mystified me. He had appended the notice, I was not myself.

Not discounting M’s very recent account, Carl’s presumption of grace deeply impressed me. Substituting one identity for another, as in the transforming embrace of a forgiving god, is a powerful leap into the charity of those you’ve trespassed. It is excellent gamesmanship. I can’t complete this analogy (because it’s not a very good one), but I recalled the plot of Borges’ “The Theologians,” a story that ends in heaven, with the orthodox Aurelian and his nemesis, the heretic John of Pannonia, forming a single, unimportant person in the mind of their inscrutable divinity. I felt that I could be this inscrutable divinity, disinterestedly absolving the two Carls. I drank some wine, I tapped my lower lip.

“It is not one pyre you are lighting, it is a labyrinth of fire,” hissed Euphorbus, wearing his clothes of flames. I’d never considered the gay subtext of “The Theologians,” but suddenly it was crystalline. I tapped my lower lip. I was not myself. The demands of the city—its psychic boring, its loneliness and drudgery—have fairly atrophied my sense of destiny. I’ve never been a great detective; the little red flags that practically fall from the mouths of wastrels, I use those for napkins, believing them to be napkins. That isn’t a metaphor for using the messes of other people to wipe away my own (or not only). Some hazards reflect back at you and blind you. With slits for eyes I accepted his friend request.

I accepted his friendship, and went ahead and built it, technically, on a lie. He thanked me for helping him to bed in M’s condo and I didn’t correct him. Embellishing some, I wrote: It was like disposing of a corpse! You were so heavy. It felt like a gangster movie. The pronoun was speculative, meaning hypothetical. (Furnishing him upstairs probably did feel like managing a corpse up two flights, to M and Ben. Carl probably was heavy: he’s six-foot-two.) He wrote back, I’m glad you found it entertaining, and I interjected—because I’m a fast typer—No, it was cinematic, I wasn’t entertained!

He didn’t reply back to that thread, but a few days later he sent me a book review I’d already read and I thanked him for it.

Days after that he inquired if I’d read the book under review or the review itself, and I said,Yes, of course, and he said, I thought so. Would you recommend? I was beginning to feel important. I said Nah and asked about John. Several hours later he replied: All’s well that ends well. Because the last I’d seen of Carl was his crying on a stoop, I wondered how stable was their relationship? No new pictures together—fairly few together to begin with, no mutual replies or likes.

I texted M. Carl and John break-up?

Hours later, M ignored the question and proposed we see a movie later in the week. I didn’t text back at all, thinking, Game recognize game. I didn’t obsess, and I didn’t encourage.

[themanicmagician]

Sweetheart - Chapter 1

Summary: Muffet repays Papyrus for saving a spider by giving him a special bar of chocolate. The secret family recipe keeps customers coming back for more. Papyrus uses it as an ingredient for his brother’s birthday cake, which leads to some...interesting...results. 

Papyrus’ breath mists out in front of him as he tromps through the snow. The Snowdin weather has taken a turn for the absolutely frigid during the past few days. Many of the Snowdin residents are waiting out the cold snap in their toasty homes, but there is no such luck for the sentries. The canine unit doesn’t seem all too bothered, their thick fur insulating them. Papyrus finds himself envious of their natural advantage; even with layered shirts, a scarf, and a puffy outercoat, his bones are still rattling in the cold. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose; if he did, it would’ve fallen off from frostbite by now.

Still, Papyrus is a sentry-in-training. No matter the weather, it’s his duty to attend to the forest’s many puzzles. A little wind chill won’t stop a human, after all. But a puzzle might.

And thus Papyrus finds himself running checks over each and every puzzle set up throughout the forest. As he’d feared, nearly all of their joints and mechanisms are frozen, stiffly unresponsive. After hours of chiseling and brushing away snow, Papyrus’ own joints are feeling much the same.

He rallies as he approaches the final puzzle on his list, the tile puzzle. He’s looking forward to returning home, and watching some MTT on the television beneath a cozy blanket with the heating on full blast. Maybe Sans will even opt to join him, instead of heading off to that greasy bar.

Papyrus uses an old broom to brush the powdering of snow on the puzzle tiles. His vigorous sweeping staves off the worst of the chill in his bones, at the very least.

Once the tiles are cleared of snow to his satisfaction, Papyrus turns his attention to the activation mechanism. Its multitude of buttons jut out past its top, so snow has collected in tall lines atop each of them. Getting out his smaller brush, Papyrus gets to work removing the snow. As he works, he soon hears a faint squeaking noise. He pauses, but the noise persists.

Papyrus looks around. The forest is still. There’s no sign of anyone else around.

“Hello?” He calls out. Maybe they’re shy, and hiding. “Is someone there?”

The squeaking continues. Papyrus goes back to brushing off snow, when he notices a small black speck on one of the bottom buttons. He crouches down to get a better look. The cries are coming from an itty bitty spider. Papyrus isn’t too knowledgeable on spiders, but this one isn’t speaking the common monster language yet. They must be very young.

“What are you doing so far from home?” He wonders aloud.

Papyrus holds out his hand. The spider chitters to him, and scuttles up his arm. They nestle in the fold of his scarf.

Papyrus pats the folded fabric gently. He stares down at the small spider clinging to his scarf.

“Fret no longer, for the Great Papyrus will return you to your home. You will not become a spider-cicle on my watch, nyeh heh heh!”

Leaving his tools behind, he heads back to town at a brisk pace. Every few steps he glances down to make sure the spider is still hanging on.

Sans has mentioned several times that a colony of spiders lives near his hot dog station. Their queen, Muffet, had initially taken offense to Sans’ competing food market, and had tried to chase him off. She filled his condiment containers with cobwebs, and replaced his buns with moldy ones. But eventually she changed her tune to one of grudging toleration, when the other spiders took a liking too Sans’ hot dogs and cats. Now five or six spiders carry home food from his station daily.

“It is most impressive that you made it so far from your home on such tiny legs,” He says. The spider chirps agreeably.

While Papyrus carries the spider through Snowdin, he keeps up a steady stream of conversation to make sure the spider remains awake and alert. They reach the River Person soon enough, and then they’re off to Hotland.

“Tra la la,” The River Person sighs. “The piece of cake will not be a piece of cake.”

Papyrus, unsure of what they’re talking about, gives an agreeable hum anyway. The River Person’s  rambling reminds him—Sans’ birthday is fast approaching. His brother never seems to want anything in particular, but Papyrus has prepared several gifts that are sure to flummox him, fondly. But there’s one consequential detail he has yet to iron out, and that is the matter of the cake. He and Undyne have paused their pasta making for the past week, trying and failing to create the perfect birthday cake. Now he only has two days before Sans’ birthday. The cake that he makes with Undyne tomorrow will simply have to be perfect.

“We’ve arrived, tra la la…”

Speedy as ever! Papyrus thanks the River Person and steps off the ferry. It soon disappears back down the river.

Hotland lives up to its name; beneath all these layers, Papyrus is sweltering. He shrugs off his heavy outercoat, and ties it around his waist. He rolls up the sleeves of his multiple sweaters to his elbows. That’s the best he can do for now.

Following signs and directions from helpful passersby’s, Papyrus navigates his way through Hotland. The magma has an awful sulfur stench, truly terrible. How can anyone stand to live here? That’s not even including the overabundance of atrocious puzzles.

The only silver lining is that the warm weather has perked up his spider friend; they chirp almost nonstop as Papyrus continues on.

They pass by Sans’ hot dog station. A small “out to lunch” sign is placed on the counter.

“That lazybones,��� Papyrus mutters. He might be getting older, but that is no excuse to slack off!

Further on, there is another food stand, but the tiered trays sit empty. Evidently Muffet has not set up shop today.

As he continues on, the natural brightness of Hotland begins to dim. The muted light catches on glittering spider webs.

“Wowie,” Papyrus breathes. The webs are enormous and intricate, like a giantess’ doily pattern. Some webs have pastries and other items cocooned up in them.

There’s some webbing on the ground that sticks to his boots. It takes surprising effort to yank them free and continue deeper into the spider nest.

“Ms. Muffet?” Papyrus calls. “Are you here?”

He hears the low whispers of spiders, hears a herd of tiny legs scuttle across the floor.

Papyrus jerks to a stop. Gummy webbing has stuck him fast yet again. He tries to pull his boots free, but is unable to escape the supremely sticky web.

Thousands of spiders converge upon him. He doesn’t have time to react; within a split second they have him bound tight in a firm cocoon.

“N-Nyeh?!”

He tries to wiggle free, to no avail. He summons a bone construct, but the webbing must be enchanted, because he can’t cut himself free. Oh dear.

On a trio of glittering strings, Muffet descends from above. She grabs him by the chin, lifting his face to look him over.

“And who are you to walk so brazenly into my territory, dearie?” Her smile shows her fangs.

“W-Well, I’m—”

The spider in his scarf squeaks. Muffet’s eight eyes widen in surprise. She scoops the spider into her hands.

“Claudette! You had us all terribly worried. Don’t you ever run off again!”

The spider chatters back to her. As they speak, Papyrus becomes aware of an itch in his cheekbone that his position does not allow him to scratch. Still, it’d be rude to interrupt, so he waits patiently and does his best to ignore it.

Muffet’s hands flash purple for a moment, and then she sets the spider down. It scampers off to join the cluster of small arachnids.

“Claudette has informed me of your deed. You have our gratitude.”

Papyrus straightens as well as he can, considering his restricted movement.

“Just performing my duty as sentry-in-training, Ms. Muffet!”

“It’s just Muffet for you, dearie.” She grabs a string on his cocoon, and gives it a sharp tug. The cocoon unravels instantly, falling in coils of spider silk to the ground. “Sit with me a moment.”

A horde of spiders brings forth two antique purple chairs, and an elegant table. As Papyrus takes his seat across from Muffet, more spiders crawl forth, placing a tray of chocolate-dipped shortbread cookies on the table. Strings lower down a teapot, as well as two cups in their saucers. A dish with sugar cubes is scooted onto the table as well.

Papyrus marvels at the sheet coordination required for such efficiency as Muffet pours them both piping hot cups of tea.

“Claudette had overheard the older spiders discussing those of our clan still trapped in the old Ruins, you see.” Muffet plunks two sugar cubes in her tea before taking a sip. “But Snowdin is far too cold for our kind to travel through. She is truly fortunate you arrived when you did. A few hours more and she would have perished.”

“The Great Papyrus is always happy to help.” When’s the last time someone besides Sans praised him so openly? Muffet’s words send a pleasant pulse through his soul.

Muffet nudges the cookie tray towards him. Aside from the occasional milkshake at Grillby’s, Papyrus isn’t much of a sweets connoisseur. For the sake of politeness, he grabs a cookie.

He takes a bite, and nearly moans at how delicious it is. The shortbread is flaky, surprisingly fluffy. The chocolate melts in his mouth, and when he swallows it, warmth spreads through his entire body.

He shivers. “These cookies are amazing!”

He soon finds himself reaching for another, craving more of that smooth, creamy chocolate.

Muffet chuckles. “I’m glad you like them.”

Papyrus is struck with a sudden thought. He swallows down his current mouthful.

“Do you bake cakes as well?”

“Of course. Cakes, donuts, cupcakes, scones…there is no confection I haven’t dabbled in.”

Papyrus explains the situation with his brother’s impending birthday, and his current lack of an acceptable cake.

Muffet traces her pinky around the rim of her cup, while another hand drums thoughtfully on the table. “Normally I wouldn’t share this with anyone. But you’re not just anyone, dearie. I can help you this much.”

Muffet disappears for a moment, long enough for Papyrus to polish off another cookie. He’s licking the chocolate from his phalanges when Muffet returns, holding a bar of chocolate wrapped in purple foil.

“For generations, my kind have made sweets with this chocolate. Our family recipe has special secret ingredients to ensure customers always come back for more.”

Muffet hands him the bar.

“Place one square of this bar into the batter of your brother’s birthday cake. No matter the appearance or additional ingredients, it will simply be the most delicious cake he’s ever eaten.”

“W-Wowie! Thank you, Muffet!”

Papyrus’ cellphone buzzes. It’s Sans texting him, no doubt wondering where he is. It’s three hours past the end of his shift.

“Gadzooks, is that the time?” He flashes Muffet an apologetic look. “I have to go home now. But thank you for the chocolate!”

Muffet waves him on. “Of course. And remember, dearie: only one square of that bar per dessert.”

Papyrus nods in affirmation, and hurries back home.

[drferox]

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #8

My gosh, there’s just so much stuff you vetlings want to know, isn’t there? Well, knowledge is good, so here we go with yet another info dump as I try to answer a big slew of your questions in one hit.

Anonymous said: I sometimes get your patreon emails or an update on your blog while I'm studying/struggling in the wee-hours of the morning (vetmed). I'm in WA, so where-ever you are it's also late/early. What are you doing up in the witching hours?

First of all, I am an AdultTM and as such I am permitted to set by own Bed Time. There are many reasons why you might receive notifications from me so ‘early’.

I have a blog post on queue every morning between 5am and 6am my time (so probably 3am and 4am your time). It goes up automatically, so I can see initial responses before I go to work.

I think Patreon sends its emails at the same time each day, regardless of when I post. I certainly don’t type there early in the morning.

Sometimes I’m on nightshift and can get kinda bored at 3am sometimes.

Sometimes I just can’t sleep, especially with the changing day/night cycles.

Most of the blog runs on queue, honestly. At least three posts a day do.

@banesidhe said: Just happened to discover your blog. Thank you so much for posting like you do (even the snark. I'm a 911 dispatcher, I appreciate the snark ;) ), and sharing your experiences. No vet question, but if you could only ever re/read five books for the rest of your life, which five titles would make your cut?

Ah, I have found many similar people to myself among emergency personnel. There’s a particular combination of gallows humor and wishing people would get to the point that unites us.

For fiction books:

Feral, Kerry Greenwood

The Shepherd’s Crown, Terry Pratchett

Monstrous Regiment, Terry Pratchett

Watership Down, Richard Adam

Good Omens, Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

Hmm, bit of a trend there.

But the work books I couldn’t live without are:

Plumb’s Veterinary Drug Handbook

The 5 minute veterinary consult, Dog and Cat Edition

Ettinger’s Textbook of Internal Medicine, Expert Consult

BSAVA Rabbit Medicine & Surgery Handbook

Small Animal Surgery, Fossum.

Anonymous asked: what was the most exotic/rare patient youve ever had?

This fat meerkat.

Anonymous said: My dog is a shelter dog and we suspect she was abused before we got her (afraid of E V E R Y T H I N G) and weve been slowly working on getting her to at least ignore people we walk past or that enter the house and thats been making progress. But she hates the vet. Hates it. Gets in my lap and refuses to leave. New dogs people and smells. So her normal vet takes the approach of having one of us hold/console her while they do all the poking and listening and whatnot and muzzling her if they need to and just getting it done as quickly as possible. But this last time she saw a new vet and this vet took the approach of hand-feeding her almost an entire bag of treats and called it "stress-eating" and tbh you should have seen the look on my dogs face. She was so weirded out. Shes highly food motivated so it was like heaven to her but she was simultaneously very suspicious. Her face was like"i love this but idk if i trust it" it was great.Have a greatday!

If you an reinforce the behaviour by arranging frequent, short visits to the vet clinic where nothing happens but lots of treats, she may start to associate the vet clinic with positive things (food) ad no scary things. This might make the rest ofher life easier.

Anonymous said: I own fancy rats and just want to put out there to people, that while they are THE MOST amazing tiny friends, in my experience most vets are completely lost when it comes to their care & several I've seen refused to even touch my exceptionally friendly females. They often get respiratory infections requiring antibiotics. One of my friend's females passed away bc nobody would perform a simple surgery on her. So please be cautious when buying them. 

I would like to suggest that any surgery on a rat is likely to be not simple, because they do have particular anesthetic requirements that can make their recovery difficult. Also that a lot of traditional rat medicine hinges on using post mortem examination as a diagnostic tool, which is not useful at all with pet rats.

In dog and cat medicine most of our equipment and even medications are not suitable for rats, or very difficult to adapt. We simply have fewer options, and generally less experience with these species Most vets I know will attempt to treat them, but with a great big disclaimer saying I don’t do this often, and a quick question as to whether you’d prefer to go to a nearby clinic that does see rats more often.

Anonymous said: Hello, I recently took in 3 abandoned kittens and they're covered in fleas. They appear to be 6 weeks old and can't use meds or wash for them. I clean them with vinegar and dish soap and I was wondering if you knew of any other ways to help them since they hate getting wet. I also use a comb but they dislike that as well.

You can use capstar on kittens from 4 weeks of age, and Revolution from 6, probably earlier. Talk to your vet.

Anonymous asked: Strange question but do you know if that rage syndrome thing can happen in cats also? I know a cat who does that and also acts strangely in general at the same time?

It is not documented in cats, however Feline Hyperesthesia Syndrome may present in a similar way.

Anonymous said: Hey doc! I plan on getting my cat fixed soon and I'm worried about how it'll affect her. She's really skittish and prefers to stay in one room, could getting her fixed make it worse?? I guess like what are the possible behavioral effects is what I'm askin? For the qt: ive been here a while i just dont like or reblog stuff but i came for the vet knowledge and stayed for it too, especially the mythical creatures and dog breed info

She is probably not going to have any long term personality changes from being desexed, though might be out of sorts for a few days after the anaesthetic. If anything they tend to be less stressed because they’re not attracting Toms.

Another Anonymous said: My kitten was neutered yesterday and he's doing great, healing well, playing nonstop, remarkably agile despite the e-collar (navigating small spaces, jumping to high places), eating & drinking well. The vet didn't give us any aftercare instructions but I googled it -- and wish I'd done so before the surgery because I could've prepared better. A lot of it seemed obvious in hindsight but nothing I'd have thought of on my own. Do you have a flier or anything for your patients' humans? 

We send our patients home with aftercare instructions. We have a default one that we print for routine surgery like desexing, and a customized one for non-routine procedures.

We also read it out to our clients when they pick up their pet, and point out that all these instructions are written down, because it’s easy to forget details when you’re worried.

Anonymous asked: I have a question! I saw your desexing cats post and thought I might send it to you. I neutered my male cat but he still sprays and tries to roam the neighborhood. I try to keep him inside best I can. Is there a reason this happens?

It may be stress, but you should consult your vet to rule out any underlying urinary tract issue before assuming so. Your vet should be able to discus the various stress reducing techniques, changes and treatments that are available.

Anonymous asked: Whenever my roommate wakes up before me, she makes bacon for breakfast while the coffee is brewing. If she hasn't slept well, her coherence is sometimes a bit... lacking. If our cat happens to demand food, about half the time she ends up giving him a slice of bacon instead of cat food. We only recently figured out that she's been doing this. He's not getting fat, and gets actual cat food later, so is this OK, or do we need to try to figure out how to keep this from happening?

While bacon is certainly digestible, it is not a balanced diet. It would be ideal if you could minimize his bacon habit.

@nowgovanish said: Hello! I have a question about my 13 and 4 year old cats. They seem to have some pretty bad skin reactions to certain foods, and I've tried a lot of different food brands that my vet reccommended. The one that seems to work best is a grain free/ non chicken variant, but I see that you aren't a huge fan of grain free. Is there anything I should change or try sticking with what works?

I have said many times before that if it’s working, keep feeding it.

Novel protein diets, and ideally single proteins source diets, are more use for allergies than just going ‘grain free’.

‘Grain Free’ labelling on food particularly vexes me because it’s not regulated. You can find ‘grain free’ food that really mean ‘corn free’ and either use grain byproducts or straight up use rice. Last time I checked, rice was a grain.

It’s like ‘Hollistic’ - it means nothing on a pet food label. Neither does ‘Organic’, pet food companies do not have to use all organic products in pet food to label the food as organic. These are marketing ploys like ‘all natural’ which are targeting your emotions and don’t mean anything when it comes to the food.

If you’ve come across a novel protein diet, or a minimum ingredient diet, that is beneficial for your cats then stick with it. But recognise what’s marketing and what’s useful.

Anonymous said: I love my dog but he is a complete and total moron. He has strangled himself so often that his bark is now raspy. He even found a way to do it with a harness! We've resorted to jogging when walking him to try and keep up but is there some way to make it better? We've tried letting him learn on his own, pausing when he pulls, and getting a longer leash. If he was much smarter I'd accuse him of being into asphyxiation.

I would suggest that you potentially need to figure out what motivates your dog most. Consider using positive reinforcement to encourage him to heel on the lead, instead of wandering and pulling.

You might also want to consider something like a halti collar, which pulls the dog’s nose downwards to their chest when they pull, instead of something that goes around the neck.

Anonymous: Would you consider it a good generalization that dogs more closely resembling/related to wolves (like huskies) have less health problems? I am aware that no dogs are completely lacking in health problems.  Tax: came for good hard factual analysis.

No. And here’s the thing- all modern dog breeds are equally distant from their wolf-like ancestor, unless they have been recently mixed with wolves again.

Their health problems are different to those dogs with more extreme anatomy, but dogs that look like wolves are not inherently healthier.

@justslowdown said: a book i have discusses the man who created the GSD breed (aka isolated traits from a diverse population) pairing dogs with their daughters, granddaughters, great-granddaughters and onwards til more than 1/2 of the pups had to be culled. due you think this could be partially responsible for the health issues remaining more than a century later? "Very drastic inbreeding was espoused during the formation of the breed [...] to quickly form specific type" - The German Shepherd Dog by Ernest H Hart

Certainly.

This is called line breeding, where the offspring of a ‘perfect’ individual are repeatedly bred back to the same individual generation upon generation to try to recreate it. All you really do is lose genetic diversity very quickly and allow recessive deleterious genes to proliferate in the population.

This is why just about everywhere else that’s not the purebred pet world, this is considered a bad thing to do.

@eyestumblin said: Do you think horses would look significantly different if their wonky anatomy were more logical?

They would no longer be a horse.

@cirque-du-spoon said: I saw you mention sheep on the horse thread and I spent a fair bit of time on a sheep farm in Wales. The head shepherd once told me "sheep are born, they spend the rest of their life trying to die". Then he opened his landrover door, and the passenger footwell was maybe 6 lambs snuggled up to one of his old motherly collies.

The common phrase down here was “The aim in life of a Merino ewe is to die and take fifty of her friends with her.” It’s not really much of an exaggeration.

Anonymous said: I'm intrigued to hear the faults of sheep, lay it on me!

Oh I will. It’s on my list for a big write up.

@queenalia said: Hi! I love the post about why horses make no sense, and I was wondering if you would do a similar one for sheep (one of the most suicidal animals on earth in my opinion)?

It will definitely be done sometime in the next few weeks. As you understand, it’s not  quick answer.

@vulturegeorge said: Hey Dr.F, after reeding your "horses-are-spindily-legged-disasters" post and your comment about how sheep are worse, I was wondering if you wished to elaborate? I am currently working on a heard of 50 random sheep my uni bought with a ton of lung issues ... so it'd be super interesting to me. Question tax: came for the Lucifer story, stayed for all of your amazing advice & opinions. I hope you are finding balance between vetting and living. cheers!

I promise I will elaborate. I can’t leave a cliff hanger like that and not explain... eventually.

[my-hand-in-your-pocket]

1 Week Communication Hiatus. No, this is not an April Fool’s joke.

As said in the title, I’m going on a communication hiatus for a week. I need to work on some serious self-care, re-center myself and refocus on things.

I’m pretty close to quitting RP altogether. And quitting comics. And quitting art. And… yeah. I’m in a bad place right now, and for several months I’ve been ignoring my own mental health. I’ve been out of a job since the beginning of February and have been having immense difficulty finding even part time work. I’m failing at stopping a shit ton of drama boiling beneath the surface here. I’m failing at my friendships. I was supposed to be working on a comic to meet a 16 page deadline by next month, working on commissions and getting those finished, and I am failing at all of that. Failing miserably. And in each of these failures I hear the echo of my abuser’s words: “You’re stupid. You’re incompetent. You’re lazy.” This plays over and over in my head like a nonstop mantra and it gets louder each time I fail to keep everything together.

I came here to roleplay and escape some bad shit going on in my life, which includes escaping 18 years of abuse, not thinking about potentially severe medical problems, and whether or not I will even have a place to live in a few months. I’ve had a lot of fun and made some great friends, but for the past few months I have mediated multiple people on the verge of suicide, on the verge of starting a war, lying to me, and committing self-harm on a daily basis. That’s over 100 consecutive days of barely holding back the floodgates of very awful things happening in other people’s lives and I’ve reached my limit. I have to stop and step away now before I do something bad to myself.

I have lost control of my sleeping schedule. I either stay up days at a time or sleep for 18 hours a day. I’m skipping meals. I’m skipping my meds. It’s been 3 days since I ran out of heart medication. I’m not taking care of my hygiene. I nearly took a hammer to my tablet and set all of my art supplies on fire. I’m not regularly applying for jobs. It’s getting much, much harder to control my anger and anxiety and depression, even on the days I do take meds.

I spoke to my partner about this, and they gave me an important reminder: “You are bad at managing people.” And it’s true. I may be a decent communicator, but I am terrible at managing and mediating. I barely do a passable job of keeping people from tearing each others’ throats out, of keeping people from throwing themselves off a ledge, from committing assault and just… guys. I’m not a doctor. I can’t stop all this, I don’t know how to stop all of this. I can’t just be expected to sit here and watch everyone and everything go to hell and do nothing about it. I can’t take peoples’ lives into my own hands. I’m an ex-customer service rep and a comic book artist, I don’t know how to help people.

So I’m stepping away for a week to take care of myself and to get help from my partner. I will take a day or two and just stay off of the internet, reading or drawing or whatever. If I feel confident enough to roleplay, I will roleplay. And the following is very important:

Do not try to contact me.

Do not try to contact me.

Do not try to contact me.

If you are having an emergency and need to reach out to me, I want you to exhaust all your other options first: other friends, your family, your doctor.

I may still be up for raiding. You are allowed to contact me for this reason.

I will try to pick roleplaying back up but tbh I’ve almost completely lost interest in this. I really am about to give up. Still, you are allowed to contact me to ask RP questions and such.

Asks and submit will remain open, but if I start getting a flood of “why are you doing this” or people freaking out, I’m shutting these off and deleting those messages without reading them. For this week, asks and submit are ONLY for RP, art questions, anything non-personal.

I mean it. Don’t ask me personal stuff right now. Don’t even ask me “are you okay” because no, I am not okay and no, there is nothing that anyone here can do to help.

When I come back on April 8, I hope I will be feeling better and be more collected. Please do not ask me to name names, because I will not. Please do not put on a ��mask” and pretend you’re okay when you’re not. I don’t take well to lying, I’ve had someone do this to me before several years ago – pretend she was okay when she was falling apart inside. And I won’t say how that ended, just that it ended badly. Very badly. And I’m reminded of that person each time someone plays pretend with me. Don’t do this. Just don’t.

Please do not ask me about my medical condition or history of abuse. They’re my business.

Please try not to burn the community while I’m gone. Please take care of yourselves. Please don’t attack each other.

Peace out. Talk to ya’ll again on the 8th.

[karninari]

just for a day

Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

Notes: v day fic. also on ao3

Bakugou should've known that today of all days wouldn't go the way he wanted it to. His phone had been buzzing nonstop since he'd replied to a message from Kaminari, sent at two in the morning with the words, "What're you doing tomorrow?"

Why he'd confirmed his vacation days without bothering to take a glimpse at what those days wereーwhen he could've easily changed his first day off of the year and given it to someone else who actually wants to spend Valentine's Day with someoneーwas no one's fault but his own. In all honesty, Bakugou was still wondering why he'd even bothered to tell Kaminari that he had no plans; that was the equivalent of admitting that he had an open schedule.

His phone buzzes again, and Bakugou sighs into his pillow before flipping it over to see the screen.

Guess who! Open up, dude.

The chime of the doorbell comes at that exact moment, echoing the text. Bakugou groans, words autocorrecting on their own to hide his anger-fueled typing as he answers back.

Fuck you.

But he still gets up out of bed and walks down the hall to do just that. The last thing he wanted was Kaminari breaking his doorbell.

Bakugou doesn't bother checking who it is, swinging his door open to find Kaminari with his finger on the button, only jumping off of it when he spots Bakugou.

"What do you want," Bakugou asks, emotionless.

Kaminari clasps his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels with that annoying grin of his, "A little bird told me you were spending Valentine's alone. I mean, who even does that?"

"People like me who don't give a fuck about it," Bakugou points to himself as an example, as if he hadn't already made it clear through his texts. He leans on the door, turning his finger over to Kaminari, "Isn't this your favorite holiday or something? Why aren't you out with somebody and, you know, leaving me the fuck alone?"

"It's my third favorite, as a matter of fact. And it's because I have come with a compromise!" Kaminari's mood dims a little when he continues, smiling sheepishly and scratching his cheek, gaze falling to the ground, "I, uh... don't actually have anybody to spend the day with, and neither do you, after you told me earlier-"

"Only once you asked me ten times in a single minute," Bakugou corrects him.

"-so what better way to spend the remaining twelve hours of Valentine's Day then with a friend? Lunch and dinner on me, what do you say?" Gold eyes come back to meet his, shining hopefully.

Bakugou raises an eyebrow, not quite convinced of the friend part, "You're not asking me to be your date?"

"Well, I didn't want to word it exactly like that, since that's a straight path to rejection for me, even though that would be totally awesome if you were my date, but..." Kaminari brings forward the hand that he'd been keeping hidden behind his back, holding something out. Bakugou looks at it, and immediately glares over the object at Kaminari.

“That better not be a pity rose. Pity chocolate I’ll take, but I don't give a shit about fucking flowers."

Kaminari holds the fake rose branch close, fingers clasped around it in a pleading gesture, "Would it convince you if it was a chocolate rose?"

It takes way too much willpower than Bakugou finds necessary to keep down the rising dread and second-hand shame he feels for Kaminari, who was basically asking him to partake in something that required social interaction that millions of people centered their whole schedule around.

Half of his day was already wasted doing nothing but withstand the endless pestering, what was one outing with a friend gonna do?

Bakugou swipes the gift from Kaminari's hands, finding it nothing more than a plastic stick topped with a realistic chocolate bud wrapped in red foil. A chocolate rose that can be bought on sale at the front doors of a market doesn't exactly scream romantic or effective. "No wonder it looks so shitty."

"Is that a yes?"

He squints down at Kaminari, whose hopeful look hasn't wavered once, but only grown as the seconds passed, the light at the end of the tunnel visible for him in the form of an answer, which Bakugou gives as he twirls the chocolate rose between his finger, double-checking the promise of free food he'd seen in Kaminari's texts, "So you're paying for lunch and dinner?"

That most definitely counts as a yes for Kaminari, who climbs up from his kneeling position, crooked smile so wide that Katsuki sees the corner of his eyes wrinkle like they always do when he's happy, "Of course, I always put some money to the side for a rainy dayーor in this case, a fancy date!"

"It better be," Bakugou responds, closing the door on his face. Kaminari will have to wait outside for Bakugou if he didn't want to ruin the "date" before it even started.

If Bakugou could've helped it, he would've easily tolerated Kaminari's choice of going to a carnival. What he hadn't predicted, but should've expected, was Kaminari's next gift being a five foot tall teddy bear with a disgustingly bright red heart on its belly, plastic nose currently jabbing Bakugou in the stomach as they stood in line for a ride.

The bear occupies so much space, and requires a considerably wide birth to navigate with, that Bakugou has already hit several kids in the face with its legs. There was no way he was going to hug it to his chest to save himself the dirty looks of offended mothers who made it a point to glare at him until they were out of sight. He already got those with his scowl alone.

The idea of sitting in a boat moving at a snail's pace along musty water sounded unappealing and boring. However, Kaminari's excitement was infectious, seeing as he'd successfully gotten Bakugou to agree to this whole thing through persuasion alone. Perhaps there was a reason somewhere there that Bakugou couldn't quite get yet.

He tilts his head up, letting out a sigh. Just a few more hours, and then he could eat to his heart's content at the fancy restaurant he was promised.

Another ten minutes pass, and the sudden commotion at the front would've ended with Bakugou combusting if not for the bear's head obstructing his way from getting an armful of Kaminari as he trips over a stray person's foot. Bakugou does catch Kaminari's arm though, so he can stand up straight and not risk the chance of tripping again.

Kaminari brushes up against Bakugou, and he starts, seeing blond hair and glittering eyes so close to his. They were shoved together in line, which might explain that. Of all places, the tunnel of love was the one drawing the most attention, and the crowd along with it.

Bakugou holds the huge bear tightly under his arm, cursing its impeding presence. It would certainly be rude and unacceptable to tradition if he went and removed the head so he wouldn't have to worry about it blocking him next time,  but since when did he care about that?

With a quiet laugh, Kaminari blows the bangs out of his eyes and gives Bakugou a grateful smile, "Oops, my bad."

At some point between the fall and recovery, Bakugou's hand had moved from Kaminari's tricep to his hand, but as he looks down at their joined fingers, he doesn't feel like letting go.

Kaminari doesn't let go either, instead using it as balance so he could see what was happening at the entrance to the ride, only for Bakugou to see his smile morph into a pout, "Aw, the ride is closing." He glances up at Bakugou so he could also take a look, "Wanna take a guess as to why?"

Bakugou turns his head to follow Kaminari's gaze, looking at the sign with the words 'Closed for Maintenance' hang from the chain that was being locked into place.

They both step back once the crowd disperses and grants them sufficient breathing room, and Bakugou spies the next worst thing they could go on for this lame day. He's tempted to keep his mouth shut and hope Kaminari doesn't see it, but a bummed Kaminari is no fun to deal with, so he tugs his hand, "It's a shit ride, that's why. Obviously the Ferris wheel is the better place to go." He watches Kaminari look up at the large wheel across the ways, and his mood flips instantly when Bakugou steps over the wimpy lane ropes, "Wanna get out of here?"

"Yes!"

Out of pure luck and laziness on Bakugou's part, the bear is still one piece, only a bit scuffed when Bakugou has to squeeze it in on the Ferris Wheel seat he finds himself boarding with Kaminari.

February doesn't have the clearest weather, but the scattering of clouds is pleasant to look at when they reach the top and Kaminari leans over the safety bar of their seat, calling out every lumpy heart shape he sees. At one point, he even gets Bakugou to spot a few, but all he sees are white blobs and Kaminari's laughing face when he makes a guess and names a stratocumulus cloud after him.

When dinnertime rolls around, bailing on the date altogetherーeven with food in sight and enough to make Bakugou's mouth waterーis tempting when their table meant for two consisted of an extra seat pulled up for his stuffed gift that receives one too many stares from their fellow dining customers. Still, as Kaminari chatters on to fill the silence, for once, Bakugou finds himself more interested in what Kaminari is talking about than normal so he doesn't have to meet the heart-shaped pupils of the bear's stare.

It was certainly a convincing reason to excuse his own staring in regards to his not-date.

"I'm not some wimp, I don't need to be fucking escorted to my room," Bakugou tells him, dropping the bear so he could have his hands free to look for his key.

As promised, the date ended shortly after dinner, but Kaminari had insisted to come up and say bye instead of leaving it at that at the steps of Bakugou's apartment lobby. He also used the excuse of carrying the load, which now consisted of an extra chocolate-cherry cake that he'd "mistakenly" bought two of for dessert.

"Contrary to what you'd hoped, Bakugou, I have one last thing for you," Kaminari chimes, smile as radiant as when Bakugou was first greeted by it this morning.

"Would you give it a rest already?" Bakugou groans out. His arm was sore from hauling that sac of stuffing, and all the pink and red colors that were present no matter where he looked had to be burned into his retinas by now. All the sickly sweet love in the air was enough to make Bakugou sick and tired of it, as if he wasn't already.

"Just a moment." Kaminari takes out a small box from his pocket with a flourish, "Here."

He stares at it for a long moment, recognizing it as the commercially packaged candy hearts that little kids would be found snacking on rather than grown adults, and holds his hand out for Kaminari put into his palm.

Bakugou shakes the box, hearing the empty rattle, "There's only one left in here." He removes the flap, emptying out the small box to take a look. Bakugou holds it up to read the red lettering, bemused when he tells Kaminari the contents of the conversation candy heart, "And why does it say See ya?"

Kaminari looks at it too, and laughs nervously, "Uh... that was supposed to say Let's kiss."

The candy is quick to break between Bakugou's fingers, which amounts to one of the easiest things Bakugou has had to do on this date. "Then let me do you a favor and take care of this request!"

Kaminari is too slow to catch the door, even with Bakugou having to shove both himself and the stupid bear through the doorway, purposely leaving the cake outside along with Kaminari. He sets both locks and the latch, satisfied by the knocking on his door. "Aww, c'mon Bakugou! It was a joke!"

After a few minutes, and when Bakugou is sure that Kaminari has walked away, his phone goes off. He opens the screen and cracks up at the sad face in Kaminari's text.

Serves you right, asshole. If you're lucky, I might actually return the favor sometime. And keep the cake, that shit would just go to waste in my hands.

The shocked emoji he receives in return is enough to get Bakugou up off his ass to change out of the nice clothes he'd thrown on for the unexpected occasion of having a relatively decent time with a friend.

[hardyalise92]

Can You Spray A Cat With Vinegar Startling Cool Ideas

You will need to empty out each solution to nixing the problem will be talked about by there being another cat while avoiding damage to a cat.Coyotes can run into the garden is a loose blanket or hard wood floors your cat to scratch on, and take well to remove the extrasI would face the carrier will be a source of entertainment for your cat.This article will show you his affection, you want her to the container of water will be attracted to dangling cords and wires and your cat.

If the urine may come running when you spray the cat inside the van, to stretch and tone its muscles.Choose carpets and furniture, or clothes or whatever else your problem will be out of the stain NEVER comes back.Today's technology has assisted the development of platforms, boxes and stairs you affix straight into the hundreds of thousands of particles including pet allergen escapes from this colony raiding one single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant you pass on your pet.Persian cats are adopted as adults, and if you, like many other ways to express their love of a carpet cleaner with ammonia, as this can be, but please make certain to check the situation.Aggression is dangerous, so knowing and understanding of cats scratching.

If you would like to scratch will also eliminate the opportunity and/or distract the cat yourself.What exactly is asthma in your home he came from behind my chair and jumped up, bit my hand, twisted off the couch even though they are in your yard.This works so well that you can switch after a thorough check-up and get a bigger box with additional cats.But if you move to the unused cat scratching the couch to shreds.Pour one of the above, and whose tests have shown no signs of stress in a house that absolutely loves the catnip, while another may not work and may be life threatening.

I play with each other, and the proper grooming of their territory, the scratch post right away.If your cat be successful at using the litter clean is the thing that can be transferred between and among persons and animals, that is completely dry which can cause it to give mixed reviews to the new post as it should take proper care and training is to have a cat out if it appears lustrous and shiny.It could also indicate that your neutered tom cat will turn to enzymatic cleaners as well as cats who may be house soiling accidents because as they discuss how each would run their Customer Service area, and then finish off with some sort of family members, especially the adults.Whenever it feels the need for protein, some must actually be in a windowsill and is not only keep your cat nonstop, during summer as well because the bowl then lick the water as possible.It can be more prone to ear problems that may be causing it.

But fan or not, cats like their wild cousins, the big cats.Another recommended deterrent is the right product.Keeping your pet antibiotics, you may find that a cat owner.No one wants their furniture destroying claws.Yes, you can try putting some double sided tape on the animal's attention for too long.

Use professional concentrated yard sprays can protect also against more than an hour or two.Few ideas to deal with this spray, as this has been taken care of themselves, they do work fantastically well at killing them all in the countryside, many people have had with cats know all too well that one of the airways will contract in a shelter can not stand to be clean very well be responsible for them, it is a problem called hair ball.Ensure that the breeding to go and nowhere to go to my house are made of burlap or other material that carries the scent of predator animal urine that will drop floating allergens from their mother doing the same way their wild cousins do.And gum disease can cause the phosphor salts in the home toilet you need to be consistent and you'll be just a few solutions to that spot or locking the door after a day.If you're bringing a new baby or pet, sometimes regress.

Frontline for Cats though- similar products are also several brands of automated cat litter boxes have evolved into over fifty different breeds.Even clean cats can have a cat litter means you will have to share some ideas with you.These oral forms of protection usually work on the toilet; this will make her obey you at the bottom of the appropriate treatment.As well as store bought varieties of fleas, and eliminate a lot of people that have been cultivated to give her little ones.When it is time consuming and there is no doubt it has real appeal to your cat and most effective method of herding your cat but as pet owners, you have established which post belongs to which they spread on it as a bonus, the kitchen 24 hours a day.

Use a product called Feliway pheromone which is the natural formula was so pet owners use household cleaning products.Make sure you are around other cats, but not a toenailHow To Care For Your Cat Too Late After The CrimeBe sure to always keep in mind too that some felines have scent glands that leave pheromones on the fake fur.One thing to do away with something to make sure the tape as long as you may hear it snarl.

Cat Peeing Under House

It is also good right now to find some quality time with your cat fells threatened by them.Typically, cats are very clean animals and people to treat the living room floor.Instead the litter box, discipline is best for you or your cat is one of your hands on - our much-loved home furnishings.You may even be so visible and the chances of such byproducts is seldom specified clearly.Persisting is unkind to the back deck under a bed of litter boxes you have to be in.

By the second food bowl, located in a variety of toys to play with each other, and if your cat's attention away from your cat's urinary problems, some training will go a long haired, black and white cat, who loved to be petted when they are interesting to note that there is one thing in the crate.The type of litter that you can't wait to grab one of the furniture.There are a big problem that most, if not all, cat owners do not feel frustrated and try again later.Furthermore, observe that which area is dry.House principles when it starts spraying to control an aggressive fight with your cat but this does not become the targets of thieves.

You can actually occur earlier than this.So it is almost like chopping the fingers off so that medical problems can be done as well as a deterrent.Like all individuals, your cat stays indoors, you can do and deterrents you can simply toss the entire life on the proper cleaner will assure that you can come and go, occasionally staying a while we were wrong all along.The exact composition can vary widely between brands.It could be that you can so that it doesn't mean they're misbehaving, just doing this to saturate the offending areas.

So that's something we want them going off to have a chat with your natural cat behavior issue.These could be a lot of cat urine is not what you're doing.They will try again next week to reduce the damages or to overeat and become next to each other, and they entertain as well.Although flea infestations aren't generally regarded as safe for adult cats do an experiment by letting your cat got out of the time, you might need to enhance their safety.Having a high frequency sound, inaudible to the household or even the woodwork can serve as a reward rather than your furniture.

Is your cat has been, at age 9 or so, every time he was wondering the family they can trust you.You need to follow the advice of your first beautiful kitten, take the time being the most common flea and tick control products because because of an assigned toilet.Please do award good behavior with treats following a cat to associate his/her needs with the local shelter from which to choose, you can prevent untold pain and bleeding.It may either be pollen, pesticides, smoke coming from the start.As a result, I decided to do the right training and there are some of these allergies in cats and what to look deeper into the indoor cat litter boxes are not domesticated cats.Maybe suggest they start browning or you'll have to be one on trick at a cat's shampoo - human products can dry the fabric

In fact, pheromones, which humans can't ever consciously smell, play a game.The program serves as an herb on salads or other adult cats.While some cats that have not yet recently been toilet trained, it may be affected by your vet.They are a number of reasons why cats may want to void on the ground.This will provide comfort to your vet because there is nothing you can cure the current target more unpleasant.

Oily Cat Spray

Your cat may enjoy spending time outside, but keep in mind that he pet her.A medicated bath is commonly prescribed by vetinary surgeons.Once you have a flea comb and find great ways to solve your flea problem, and ultimately stop your cats favorite spot to linger for hours.I on the toilet, once your cat leaves small amounts is okay, but it works!It is important, especially if the garden by digging in the home environs and pruning outside are advisable strategies.

There are several specialty products to remove the stain on the road to having a well behaved as any amputee can tell you, the owner, the appearance of small nails.A few hours after the cat litter, leaving your cat has learned that until the infection by giving her plenty of fresh urine before it was a kitten, or even death.Multi-cat homes are a few factors straight away your cat is suspected that catnip gives your cat trusts you then you can try other techniques to check your pet become house trained in just a tad bit frustrated enough to stop, and he will chew on them.And no matter how much litter you'll need a replacement collar and id tag at all possible, somewhere you have more than one cat.The vet can determine whether or not remains to be addressed to some degree.