#i've been thinking about it for several days now and need somewhere i can express my thoughts

[boyfriendsmalec]

24 hours to go until we get two new episodes of The Eighth Sense 🙌 

[yey56]

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCHOLOGIST READER pt2.

That day wasn't something you could easily forget.

It started as any other day, after the moment you had with the doctor a few weeks ago, he received a call from the office of Elliot Ludwig, claiming there was an important matter to discuss. He left not without savoring once more your lips.

That day, while you were conversing and trying to help process the changes to a little girl now turned into a toy, one of the other phycologist, Martha Hendswort, one of the few friends you had there; told you that Elliot was expecting you in his office.

You didn't exactly despised Elliot, unlike Harley who took the man for a rotten idealist, you though of him a wise man who was far to kind for his own good. Someone who learned to put the foot down when it was already to late...

Once you arrived there, the man awaited for you seated in his chair, looking at a photograph on top of his desk, his mind wandering somewhere you couldn't see.

Finally noticing your presence, he gave you an apologetic smile. Nothing good could come from that look that was silently apologising for something he hadn't even said yet.

You greeted him as usual, with a light hearted manner. Jokingly sucking up with him-you look good Eliot! New glasses?- you said while he spared you a little smile.

He finally took a more serious stance and started the conversation- (Y/N), as I've said to Harley before, both of you together have reached great progress with your projects...-he paused looking at you trying to find a way to deliver the blow delicately- You both have achieved great things and the company is grateful for that... But, I cannot longer ignore your lack of boundaries regarding the... Subjects of your experiments.- he looked at you again.

So... This is about me and Harleys methods, I'm sure we can get to some kind of middle groun- Ludwig suddenly interrupted you- No, I don't mean that. I've talk about this with him as well. I don't think you should be directing the experiments no longer. This experiments should not be made in name of progress but in name of humanity, and I think that's something you have forgotten- he finally finished.

You felt a shiver go down your spine- What?- you whispered forrowign your brows- do you have any idea how much we- How much I have invested in this project-in -in those children?!- you tone was still moderately calm, but getting more threatening.

Harley lacks the humanity needed for this project-his tone still calm, trying to soothe your anger- unlike him, you do have that trait but you have chosen to ignore it in favour of your own curiosity, your own agenda.-he expressed severely- you are a brilliant psychologist, the best one I have in here and working with you has been enlightening from all points of view but I cannot keep ignoring your recklessness...-he finalised.

You looked at him, without talking, still half processing what he just told you- so you're firing me? After all the time I've invested here?- you said, resentment was starting to get more noticing in your voice.

No! Of course not, neither you or Sawyer are fired, just... Relocated.- he explained- I've assigned sawyer to Dr whites lab and you... Well I think it would be great if you could work in the innovation department, under Pierre's direction...-your eyes didn't leave his- You're asking me to quit the career I've been building for the past 11 years to work under that lousy coward?- you asked in reference to the nervous nature Pierre seemed to have since you once accidentally sacred him while being in the corner of a dark place.

You are great at innovation, I know you talk frequently with the design department and your adaptable nature will be very helpful there.- Ludwig, observing that you still weren't really on board with this said- look, I don't expect you to understand right now but at least give it a try. I've never known you for saying no to a challenge. I will ask Pierre not to be so restrictive with you.- his attempt to cheer you up where useless

You only raised from the chair and proceeded to get out of his office. You knew you weren't going to quit because that would mean you turning into one of them.

You kept walking through seemingly infinite corridors, tightening your fists to the point your knuckles were turning white.

You arrived to your office in the lower levels and started to take out certain objects you knew you would need with you for your relocation. You had on top of your desk the file of 1322-Doey and in one of your open drawers, a photo with you in the kindergarten area with the kids that now composed the toy.

With the box with your belongings in hand, you started walking towards Harleys office, at least to notify him about your new place of work.

The place was empty, which was strange. You were aware that Sawyer didn't have any surgery scheduled so it was not normal for him to not be there.

The following days you didn't see Sawyer at all, you asked the staff around, asking if they had seen him, no one had.

It was hard adapting to work with Leith. Both of you always thought your proposed designs were better than the others so of course there were always conflict between you two.

Strangely, you manage to work it out for a couple of weeks. Using your knowledge in psychology, in child psychology and using data of sociological studies from children.

You proposed new updates to the backpack, a tool used by the employees of the factory. Also you found ways to improve the designs of some toys. Something that Pierre respected, even if he didn't admit it put loud.

And you were even able to design a toy that got launched to the public! Pianosaurus, a funny dinosaur that was also a piano.

Sadly, this toy was also included to the experimentation list. And in no time, you own creation took live. Sadly it didn't work as well as the company expected since some of its cognitive and coordination abilities failed, therefore, it was discarded and abandoned in an old enclosure.

The sudden disappear of Harley worried you. You knew he wasn't fired and you knew he was not in the factory. Finally fed up with the doubt you decided to go check the staff record to see if he even had checked out of his work hours (which he almost never did).

You left the designs you were working on to improve Doeys resistance of the cold and wandered through he corridors to check your theory of Sawyer never leaving the factory.

Before you could get to the next corridor, three voices stopped you. You couldn't hear much since they where inside one of the labs of that area but you could make out Leith's voice, saying something about having gotten rid of someone.

And something along the lines of "damned doctor"

You are well aware of what "taking care" of someone meant here. You had suggested it a couple of times with unloyal stuff but something about the timing of the conversation seemed off.

Before you could get away from that area again, you felt something hitting your head and the only thing that could be heard in that hall was the crash of your belonging against the floor.

————————————————————————

[Tape recording: The doctor]

[Dr white]: Oh, it looks like he's waking up

{The doctor}: where am I, what... Is this?... Oh no they didn't, those backstabbing traitors

[Dr white]: Dr Sawyer? can you hear me?

{The doctor}: White?! White is that you?! Who else is there with you?

{The doctor}: You enjoying watching me writhe like on of them- *Groan in pain*-my head feels like it's splitting in two *groan*- This is wrong, you must have done something wrong.

[Dr white]: Some disorientation is to be expected it'll-

{The doctor}: Who gave you the order? You spineless cowards, after all I've done for this project, for this company-

(Lith Pierre): I gave the order, Sawyer

{The doctor}: Leith Pierre... of course it'd be you, YOU have no idea what kind of mistake you've just made.

(Leith Pierre): Really? From where I'm sitting, you're the one who keeps making mistakes that need fixing. You and (Y/N) were warned.

(Leith Pierre): We gave you both so many opportunities to clean up your messes, but you just couldn't do it could you?

{The doctor}:What, do you think YOU can do better?? Nobody else can do what I do. You need my knowledge, my intellect!! You need (Y/N) and they will not collaborate!!

(Leith Pierre): Why do you think you're sitting in there right now, and not in Boxy's stomach? Let me tell you how this is gonna go, Sawyer. From now on you're here to give the lab boys answer when they need them and carry out procedures when and how we tell you to. That's it

(Leith Pierre): You'll be an open book to us whenever we want. So fight or have in, or whatever because either way we own the infrastructure you're wired into. Here's your first task, find us Dr (Y/N) (Y/L/N) so they can join you.

{The doctor}: You'll die for this Leith. When I get my hands on you you're a dead man!!!

(Leith Pierre): This temper is a bad look on you Harley!

[Tape Ended: The doctor.]

————————————————————————

[Tape recording: the escape]

(Y/N): What?- Where?-

Dr 1: are they- no I can't be- they're waking up *mumbling*

Dr 2: it cannot be!- increment the dosis!

(Y/N): what... Are you-? What do you think you are-? *Groans*

Dr 1: don't move- restrict them!!

(commotion sounds)

Dr 1: wait! Dont!- (static)

(Crashing sounds)

(Screams)

(Y/N):*groans* so... This is what you were trying to do... To me?

Dr 2:*coughing* Lab 19... Dr (Y/L/N) is *coughing* awak-

(Gunshot)

Leith :* through the phone* Dr? Dr?!-

(Static)

[Tape recording: the escape]

————————————————————————

You felt cold with the operation robe you had on, a harsh contrast with the warm blood that was scattered over your upper torso after stabbing one of the doctors with a scalpel.

Your ears ringed. After quickly taking the gun off the scientist body you aimed at the other one who was calling who you supposed was Pierre.

You shot him before he could end his message. You took the documents they had half completed on the desk: Experiment 1812- (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

You broke the papers with disdain. You though of Harley, were they doing the same to him? It wouldn't be so unusual to think that Pierre might have try to remove Sawyer out of the equation.

You then remembered that Leith must have sent someone to neutralise you, so hurrying you went out of the operation room,with the gun in hand, to the control room. Sawyer, Leith and Ludwig were the only ones with a key but Harley had made you a copy without the other two knowing. Of course, that copy was confiscated from you when you were left unconscious.

Once you got to the control room, you started noticing the cold on your bare feet, the blood dripping from your clothes and the rushed footsteps that seemed to be getting closer each second.

You punched the door in the handle repeatedly in desperation to get in. And just before you could see Leith rushing to you at the end of the corridor, the door automatically opened on its own, letting you in.

It immediately closed right after you and the sound of the mechanical lock echoed in the room, all of this followed by Pierre's hits on the door.

You ignored it, concentrating on the several cameras that formed the room. Complete access to he enclosures of the experiments.

1160-Boxy boo, 1163- Pianosaurus, 1166- Yarnaby, 1170- Huggy Wuggy, 1188-Catnap, 1222- Mommy long legs... To mention some of them.

In desperation, Pierre started shouting, already imagining what you would do in your anger.

(Y/N)!! Stop this. You are not thinking straight! They will kill you, all of us!!!- he said completely desperate, attempting to convince you to stop whatever you were planning, banging the door even harder.

You were always aware that what you did was not good, neither moral, neither human. But you did it either ways.

You understood their pain, specially their anger, you would be angry to in their place. Now you needed that anger, you needed that rage against Pierre and all of Playtime Co.

Even if you would be affected in the process, right now you don't care what might happen to you, you only care of what will happen to Pierre.

You pressed the bottom with no hesitation, the red lights illuminating the whole compound. You could hear Leith's shouts of desperation- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!- WHAT HAVE YOU D- his voice sounded like murmurs, likely because of the effect of the anesthesia inside you.

Actions have consequences Leith, sooner or later both you and I were going to face them, I just accelerated the process.- you said with a mocking tone that brushed insanity-Im just helping you learn how to take responsibility for your actions.-you finished with a harsh tone in your voice.

While this was happening, the monitors in your back started to flash images of a single eye surrounded by static.

————————————————————————

Harley had observed through the cameras that now were part of his system how you escaped the operation room leaving two corpses behind. The moment Leith left the room in which his monitor was in to go and stop you, he started taking over the system.

He wanted to make you know what had happened to him, that he hadn't manage to escape and was now trapped there.

He opened the door to you once he catched on what you were trying to do and he tried to comunicate with you through the monitors in the room. You seem so angry and so full of adrenaline that you didn't notice how he couldn't even voice a though through the speakers.

Once Leith had escaped the corridor, hoping to save himself, he saw you sprinting out of the room to a direction that was way to familiar for him. The enclosure of 1322 or like you liked to call them: Kevin, Jack and Mathew.

He knew how much you insisted in refering to the experiments as there original names. You used to say that it helped them to stablish trust with you and he still insisted in naming them after their assigned numbers.

You arrived at the enclosure of the doe mass, while he tried to figure out how to control more of the systems so he could reach you.

Get out, come on- you said to Doey who looked at you as if you were the sunlight.- but- but what's happening, why is there so much noise?- he asked afraid- I freed them, all of them, come on, here is no longer safe- you said rushing him and sparring him the details of your actions.

But the doctor!- the bad people, they are going to hurt us- to starve us- he started having a meltdown- I don't know where Harley is but with the chaos that has ensued out there we can still hide somewhere they won't find us. Quick!- you were trying to rush the toy to the exit. You remembered that Harley mentioned you that there were building more floors deeper and deeper but they were still very much isolated from the rest of the factories system.

You guided the toy through the stairs and the chaos and while you were waiting for him to open a door from the other side, you took the opportunity to search in on of the few computers nearby some information that may lead you to Harley. You tried cameras, reports and all kinds of stuff but you couldn't find anything recent.

Harley didn't have access to the computer you were using. Growing more and more desperate he could feel himself getting overloaded until one of the nearby cable started igniting.

Doey quickly wrapped you around him and started running without a clear direction while the whole placed burned, dragging you both deep enough to not be found for a while.

————————————————————————

Harley was beyond furious, he was frustrated, defeated. Backstabbed by his coworkers and confined into a screen.

When The Prototype found him, he didn't face him with fear. He was well aware that he was useful for him and only for that, The Prototype would keep him alive. But he also knew that it was a means to an end. The prototype needed the doctor for his abilities and intellect but the doctor knew that, for the prototypes plan to actually work, they needed you and your ability to stabilise the toys mental state.

You had made sure to establish a relationship of trust and even some kind of bond between you and the toys. With some of them more genuine than with others. He never understood that, and for a long time he mistook it for simple compassion but the explanation you gave him catched him completely by surprise.

Why do you insist on bonding with those... Creatures, hmmm?- he asked you with his hand on the bridge of his nose and his glasses in the table.- are you aware what you are doing to them?right? Trying to save your morality is impossible here.

You laughed silently while eating a piece of sandwich.- this is lot about mortality, Harley- you responded to him. He felt oddly good when you pronounced his name. You usually referred to each other by surname but he could get used to hearing his name from your lips more often- Do you realise that those experiments are incubators of anger and resentment right? They are essentially human. Humans reaped from their bodies.-you took a bite- that, plus the abuse they endure from the guards, only breeds anger, anger that is eventually going to explode in our faces.- he looked at you curiously. Finally understanding your point.

You continued after he nodded, agreeing with you- By letting them know I empathise with them, which I do by the way, I'm basically letting them know I'm not much of an enemy but more of a shoulder to cry on. You understand?- your reasoning was calculated and based on assuming the worst but after all, you were right. He hadn't missed how much closer you had got to him, standing up with your hand on the top of the chair he was sitting in.

The experiments who demonstrated intelligence were not happy with the stuff at Playtime co and that was no secret. He finally understood what was your strategy. A point of view he had never seen before but one that made sense nonetheless.

That's how Harley understood that, in order to control the whole place and assure the prototypes plan, they needed you. That way he could have a valid excuse to give to the prototype for wanting to reach you and have you with him. That way you weren't perceived as his weakness and you could stay alive out of usefulness.

But he was going to find you, one way or another, sooner or later. He wasn't know for being a patient man but he could wait. He just needed time and nothing more. Just time...

————————————————————————

Doey finally put you down on the floor and you both stopped, catching a moment to breath.

You were in some sort of underground sewer, you didn't know where it would take you but as long as you were not in the upper levels with the rest of the free toys, you were safe for now.

Hey kid, how are you going?- you asked Doey who was starring at the ceiling, hearing the vague screams that could miraculously reach the underground.

Those screams are from...- he started, not daring to finish that sentence- (Y/N)... What have you done?.- you leaned against a wall, still dizzy from the remaining anesthesia in your body- What?- you asked, not expecting this reaction- Those screams!! They are from people, the toys are eating them!! Why did you do this?!

You paused a moment, not knowing what to respond. Keeping eye contact with the toy- I got fed up- you weren't exactly lying on that answer- I'm making it up for my actions, I was an accomplice in captivating you,in captivating them. Now I'm freeing you.- you took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind- look, I understand that you are upse-

NO, YOU DON'T!!!- He screamed- you try but you don't- He started sobbing- you don't hear them! you get to have silence, you don't hear the voices! the kind voices that always lie!! Your kind voice won't deceive me anymore- he stared at you, furious.

You got serious, taking a stance and looking him dead in the eye, you told him- I'm not a kind voice, Doey. I'm an honest voice and I made that very clear since the first moment I met the three of you.- he stayed silent after your statement, pouting, like a child would take after being scolded by their parent.- I will tell you the honest truth...if you can handle it. - you looked at him and proceeded- I don't think it's a good idea that we stick together. Kevin, you're obviously angry at me and I won't force you to change that. I'll let you cool down. Search for me when you are ready. .- and with that you turned and leaved, not willing to defy a 400 kg of mass

Doey extended an arm in your way trying to reach you before you would go down another path than him. You were the most similar thing he had to a parent, to a friend down there and he felt lost without your help and guidance.

The toy stayed there, sulking and trying to keep himself at bay.

You wandered through the sewers until you found a way out to a set of underground halls with a few computers to settle in. You stayed there, thinking about what to do next, what to eat. The only option where the toys of course. But mostly you spend your time wondering, wondering where could Harley be, if he even was still alive after what you did.

And Harley, well... He was determined to obtain absolute control over the whole facility, upper and lower levels. Searching to find certain germ that had crawled inside of his system, and former heart.

Searching for the direct culprit of the hour of joy...

The picture of the Kevin, Matthew Jack and Y/N

[felice-jaganshi]

Alastor x OC

His Pet

Chapter 1/?

A/N: hello tumblr! I've never tried posting a story here, so hopefully i get the format right? If not, some one plz message me how to do it better!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a month till the next extermination, Charlie was having her meeting with heaven this very moment. Alastor was going for a stroll around the Ring, when he heard a muffled sob from the nearby alley. Curiosity caught him for a moment, maybe an easy deal could be made. He wandered down to take a look and found a little sinner with orange fox ears crying to herself. He took a closer look and his eyes went wide with excitement! This wasn't a sinner, her blood was gold, a fallen angel then! Even better.

He slowly approached her, not wanting to startle her further. 

“My my, hello there dear.” He spoke softly as he approached, if he played this right, maybe he could get an angel to make a soul deal!

She gasped and looked up at him, fear filling her big blue eyes. “P-please, don't-” Her voice was cracking and faint. Her dual fox tails wrapped tight around herself and hid most of her body from view behind the fluff.

He softened his smile and bent at the waist to be closer to her face, he kept his voice soft,

“Now now, my dear… I do not intend anything villainous with you. I am a proper gentleman, unlike most of the worthless trash roaming these streets.” He was trying to soothe her, and it seemed to be working, as the more he spoke the more she relaxed. “You appear to be injured my dear. Might I take you somewhere that can care for your injuries?” She looked at him for a moment, staring into his eyes like she was trying to read his soul. He kept his expression soft.

“What's your name?” She asked, her voice was still quiet.

He stood straight and laughed, “haha! I'm Alastor my dear, most know me as the radio demon!” She smiled just the tiniest bit.

“Alastor, the radio demon… I'm Zariah. It's nice to meet a gentleman in hell… where did you want to take me?”

“The Hazbin Hotel! A place for sinners who want to get to heaven.”

She nodded, “okay… I'll go with you.” She tried to stand, only to immediately get scooped into his arms. She squeaked in shock, and looked up at him as she was suddenly in a princess carry. He stepped through the shadows and they were suddenly in the hotel lobby.  She was a bit dizzy from the sudden scenery change

Next thing she knew, she was set down on a couch,

“Here you are my dear. The rest of the residents are out on the town for the day, so it's just you and me. Mind if I see how bad your injuries are? I might be able to help you with them, for a price…” She shook her head.

“I- i just need rest. I haven't slept in two days… I have healing powers, just… too tired to summon it…”

“Healing? Interesting, can you only use it.on yourself?” His eyes had a glow of excitement to them.

“Hm? Oh, no, I can heal others too.” She yawned, exhaustion finally hitting her now that she was somewhere warm.

He chuckled darkly, excited at this opportunity. A healer would be very useful to keep in his back pocket. 

“Oh you poor little angel. Well, I might as well get you set up in a room. Don't worry about the cost for now sweetheart, your first night can be on me.” He smiled softly, “would you like to walk there yourself, or shall I carry you again?”

She blushed a little. “I… think I can walk.” She got onto her feet with some effort and slowly walked towards the stairs. He had a view of her back. Her shirt was ripped up and bloodied. There were deep gashes where her wings used to be, and several other smaller marks surrounding them. It painted quite the story, her struggling to get away and making them miss several times before they got it right. Yet she was still walking. He couldn't help wonder what her blood would taste like. The angel head he sampled at the overlord meeting was quite nice. Ah, too bad he couldn't snack on her wings. They'd surely have been wonderful barbecue’d. 

He then made his way in front of her and led her to a room near Angel Dust's, deciding to put some distance between her and himself till he knew if she was a spy or not. She went to the bed and flopped on her stomach immediately with a groan of pain.

“Thank fuck, a bed.” She then turned her head toward the door, “thanks. Imma sleep now… you're really nice, Alastor.” 

“Ah, before you do, may I ask one question of you?”

“Mh, yeah?”

“Who did this to you?” He put on his most sympathetic voice.

“Adam… did this… my only sin was stupidity. I didn't deserve this…” she turned her head and sobbed into her pillow.

Alastor sighed pleasantly, enjoying the view of another's suffering. 

“Oh my, the sin of stupidity? You have my curiosity dear. Would you like me to lend you an ear and get this whole mess out in the open?” He approached the bed and summoned a chair to sit in, resting a hand on his chin and looking at her fondly.

She took a moment to calm herself enough to speak. 

“Th-the exterminations. No one in heaven knows about them but the exorcists. We were told they went to earth to save the living, not that they kill humans in hell!” She sounded horrified by the news. “Wrong place, wrong time… I heard Adam talking about it. I was given two options, become an exorcist or get kicked into hell. I'm not a fighter! I'm a healer! I couldn't bear the thought of killing, even if it's sinners… that's just cruel.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, a real bleeding heart she was. “I see. So heaven doesn't know the atrocities they're committing?”

“Of course not! Most everyone has family in hell! None of us would approve of our own kin being slaughtered!” She snapped her head up to try to glare with her puffy eyes. “If I get the chance, I'm gonna punch Adam in his stupid dick he's so proud of!” 

Alastor's eye twitched,

“My dear, a proper lady shouldn't swear so much…”

She sighed, “I don't normally, I just… this is a special situation.”

He hummed, not buying it. 

“Well, I think I should let you rest for now. Let me know if you need anything at all.” He motioned with his cane to the bedside table and made a radio appear. He then left her room, shutting the door. He had some new things to think about…

[hybbart]

*Discreetly slides this fan letter into your mailbox* 

From: Anonymous Fan, 

Address: Ask Box, Tumblr, somewhere on Planet Earth

To: Hybbart

Address: Hybbart's Blog, Tumblr, somewhere on Planet Earth

Date: Today, 

Dear Hybbart,

Hi! I'm just a little anon writing to say thank you so much for your amazing Ranchers Apocalypse AU. I've binged it several times and I plan on doing it again and again. It's given me so much hope for life. I have never experienced anything like it before. Your art is incredible and I could stare at it all day. 

I don't comment on things often, I'm usually one of the silent spectators but I really felt like I needed to give you a thank you.

 I have hated and avoided apocalypse stories because they always felt so hopeless and scary to me but yours is the first I've seen that's not hopeless. Thank you so much for the new perspective of an apocalypse story. Now I love them. If an actual apocalypse happened I hope I am one of the ones, like the Ranchers, that don't give up and keep pressing on even in the hard and seemingly dark times. Not only to just survive but to thrive. To keep holding on to hope for a better tomorrow. Rain or shine, bring it on. It's almost like the Ranchers are giving life a middle finger lol. Like, Gosh dang it life, you want us dead, oh heck no we will live and not only will we live but to really add insult to injury we are choosing to thrive.

I love how the story is almost like Polaroid photos with little notes at the bottom of each; it feels a bit like a scrapbook documenting important moments in the story which is cool. It's so unique and it's nothing like I've ever seen before. It's incredible.

My goodness, the way that you draw characters so expressive and dynamic with their poses and the amount of details in the background. It's absolutely captivating. I love studying and admiring each picture.

Your art and stories are inspiring and healing. I fully believe that people's worlds will be flipped on their heads for the better when they experience the stories and art that you create. You flipped my world. Please don't stop creating. The world needs what you have to give. 

Once more thank you for the incredible story, I can't imagine how much time you spent on it. The love you have for the AU really shines through your work. You are an inspiration. 

I look forward to what comes next in the RAAU, rain or shine, bring it on.

Sincerely,

- Anonymous Fan <3 <3 <3

P.S Also a song rec that I think is really neat and hope you think is neat too: 

Owl City's Bird with a Broken Wing.

It makes me think of Jimmy after the apocalypse started but before Tango found him. 

P.P.S if you are reading this, thanks so much for reading this long letter. Lol.

Thank you very much! I think you might enjoy two series, called yokohama shopping log and Zom 100: bucketlist of the dead. Yokohama shopping log is a very lovely slice of life healing series about the twilight of the world and the people who've accepted it and decided to live the best they can, including robots. Zom 100 is about a man so beaten down by modern work culture the apocalypse sets him free and gives him and everyone around him the opportunity to be human and enjoy life again. They're both series about human compassion and small joys in the end times, and big influences on raau.

And that reminds me! I've been work on raau for over a full year now! It's crazy to me, I hope to work on it again soon.

[lilmissnatcat24]

are you ready for the trope i've been foaming at the mouth to finally write

“Vakarian?” Pallin’s voice called out from his glass office. He gestured him forward with a flick of his fingers. “Can we talk? Now?” 

It was never a good sign when Pallin called someone aside. He, like most other turians, was professional, bordering on emotionless. Which made it all the most devastating when he would pull someone from the case, or fire them with a neat little severance package, or tell them that they needed to go pick out chunks of a vorcha out of a car grill on Tayseri (and, speaking from personal experience, was probably one of Garrus’s least favorite days working for C-Sec). 

Garrus ignored the immature chittering that came from Chellick, Ridgefield, and Lamont as he joined Pallin down the hallway into an empty office, normally kept clean and tidy for telling families that their children and their parents were found somewhere on the Citadel murdered. Pallin gestured at one of the seats for Garrus, pacing back and forth with a datapad tucked underneath his arm. 

Pallin looked incredibly uncomfortable. He was fidgeting with his armor, fidgeting with his gloves, fidgeting with his mandibles, fidgeting with just about everything in a five foot radius that could be fidgeted with. Garrus realized he’d never seen Pallin look so nervous before. 

He placed the datapad down on the table, looking up at Garrus expectantly. “Is this true, son?” 

Garrus was terrified to pick it up. It could be just about anything. Saren’s orders to fire Garrus from C-Sec, transcripts from a listening device that implicate Garrus in his investigation, a paper trail linking him to a sex club… He picked it up and read: 

Consensual Relationship Agreement

Citadel Security is committed to creating a work environment free from harassment, discrimination, conflicts of interest, exploitation, and favoritism. 

It is against Citadel Security policy to use a position of authority to induce another person to enter into a nonconsensual relationship. Indeed, even consensual relationships in the workplace can cause disruption and other problems in violation to company policy. 

The purpose of this agreement is to affirm that Delia Shepard (Officer- Drugs and Trafficking) and Garrus Vakarian (Officer- Homicide), both employees of Citadel Security, have agreed to engage in a welcome, consensual social relationship--

Garrus’s tongue felt like a foreign object in his mouth, his stomach dropping down several levels. What the everliving fuck was Shepard thinking? His entire face was so stupidly warm, so warm that he was sure that Pallin could feel it from across the room. 

“I--” 

“Listen, Vakarian,” Pallin said in a fake sort of soft professional voice. This was why he was so uncomfortable; dealing with HR matters like this always made him unsure of what to say, or how to say it, or where to put his hands when he talked. “I’m not going to be the one to tell you who you can and can't see when you’re not at work or how to spend your free time. But are you absolutely positive that this is how you want to play this?” 

“Um… I mean… we-- I guess, the two of us… um…” Garrus had no idea what to say. Luckily for him, neither did Pallin, evidently. 

“I don’t need to know the specifics, please,” he put his hand up, a pained expression on his face. “Just… just make sure this doesn’t get in the way of your work, yeah? No… no quickies in storage closets.” 

“No, sir,” Garrus said so quickly it sounded like one garbled, stuttering mess. 

“I better not be able to smell her all over you.” 

“No, sir.” 

“And I sincerely hope you don’t spend all of your time on the seventh floor at her desk. You need to be at yours, working. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, sir.” Pallin opened his mouth once more, then thought better, closing it. He waved Garrus away, a clear end to the conversation. Garrus stood, his head feeling as though someone replaced his brain with feathers and flies. And, doing exactly what Pallin told him not to do, went straight for the elevator and punched in the seventh floor.

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

so I've heard in the past that some members of the band have hinted at not being 100% straight and richard has given hints at wanting to know what it's like to be a woman, could you please give me some sources to those since I've looked everywhere and can't really find them? thank you, if not, it's totally understandable

Another really really old ask, not because i didn't want to, but because i wanted to findas much info as possible 🌺 sorry anon for taking so long..

Well, the most recent 'hint' was Flake's podcast with topic 'gay/lesbian' where he mentioned that the topic came up one evening when the band were chatting and it turned out they all had their experiences 🥰

Rammstein is imo a band who has always been very 'inclusive' in any sexual preferences, and especially in Till's lyrics you can tell he is very interested in anything out there (not that that makes him 'not straight' (to be honest, i think he is, by some other quotes in interviews 😊) but i wouldn't be surprised if he tried some stuff somewhere in life).

Richard did an 2010 interview in Canada (don't have a link to the original, just this transcript) where he was quoted (about 'Mann gegen Mann')

"Actually, Till showed the lyrics to our Gay community, to our friends, just to make sure, because if you talk about something that you not really are, it's always kind of hard. Sometimes you cross the line, you don't think about it, but it could be offensive. If you do something because it's your experience, it's fine, but if you write something and you're not actually a part of it, I think you should make sure that everything you want to say is right. So he gave the lyrics to some friends, and they were very approving."

Which sort of confirms that they don't see themselves as gay so much. Also in interviews where they were asked 'are you gay', they usually end up with 'no'... interestingly, i don't think i've seen an interview where an interviewer explicitely asked 'are you bisexual' 🌺 (by the way, i would be really surprised if Richard hadn't some experience with a guy when he was younger, i vaguely remember he alluded to such in a really old interview, but i don't have a link).

--

Richard indeed has expressed ideas about his feminine side several times, in the interbiew above he says for instance

"If you talk to me right now, I'm a big believer in getting myself in balance between the female and the male side. I have a female side too, obviously."

And very striking was in several interviews ca 2021 after he did the cover 'Always on my mind' with Till for the Emigrate album 'The Persistence of Memory' and then made it a duet, stating:

"I mean, obviously, Till has also this very characteristic voice. And then it was pretty fast. He recorded one day. And then I was listening to it, and I felt a little bit that his performance was a little bit too male-oriented. So I felt I need a little female touch to it. So that’s why my personality came in. And I think it’s a good combination"

So he felt a female touch was needed, and added his own voice to Till's track 🥰

And ofcourse in 2023 he shared on his ig

"I've always wondered what it's like to be a woman"

Now ofcourse this could just be a Kruspe-caption 😊 but with the 'DT' video in mind and his role in it, it makes one wonder doesn't it... where is that making of when we need it 🌺😊

---

From the others i don't have quotes at hand...sorry...but maybe someone else has and is willing to share 🌺

[bisexualpositivity]

hey! I hope you're keeping well and are having an awesome day:)

Wondered if I could ask for some bi related advice...So, just for context I'm 24 y/o female and I've known for a while that I'm physically and sexually attracted to women, but never as strongly as men. Still, I've always endeavoured to be open and curious. Long story short I was out with my straight female best friend and we kissed...then we kissed again...and later that night in her room we kissed again. She treated it as a "haha that was so silly and funny of us" thing, which it totally was for her - she's straight as a board...but I wanted to keep going. Yet, at the same time, it didn't give me the butterflies or any emotional connection that I get with guys, even those that I've kissed that are strangers. Kissing a girl just didn't do that for me. I feel that I'm probably somewhere on the bisexual spectrum, but now I'm a bit stuck on what to do now.

I really want to explore things with women, kissing that friend only confirmed that I'm into girls, but I don't know where to go. I have a friend who's gay, very sex positive and has slept with several of her other friends on a purely casual, no-strings basis - do I approach her and explain I'm feeling a bit confused and want a safe space to explore? Or would that fuck things up? (She's said before that I'm attractive but not her type/she doesn't see me that way). Do I approach my best friend and say hey - remember when we made out in your bed? Can we do that again? But I do NOT want to fuck up that friendship she's the most special person I have.

To make it all a tad more complicated...I'm closeted. And I kinda have to be right now. I'm practising christian, super involved in my church and if anyone knew I just know it would have a bad affect on relationships. I know people will say that's their problem, but my faith is actually really important to me and I don't want to unearth all this trouble right now. I don't mind staying closeted rn, and both girls I mentioned have come from the same communities so understand. I'm almost 25, I can handle myself, my sexuality and the way I choose to express it is a private matter and I wanna keep it that way.

I know this has been a huge ramble. I'm so sorry for going on, I suppose I just needed to get it out somewhere and I've seen you reply to advice asks in the past. If you have any thoughts/advice I would really appreciate it 🥰

Sincerely,

A troubled lil bisexual twentysomething who's done the stupid classic movie mistake of kissing her best friend xoxo

Oh man, it sounds like you've been going through a lot lately. It never feels good to have your real, genuine feelings brushed off like that, even if the person doing it doesn't know any better.

Based on where you are with your questioning process right now, I think it's very important for you to have a support system--if you think your friend who's gay could be part of it, definitely reach out and test the waters with them.

Rambling is fine, don't worry about it. I'm only sorry that I don't have much more advice to give you. Stay closeted for as long as you like, and keep yourself safe out there, okay?

[evelhak]

Old art #12: Fate/Once Upon a Time

Some more ancient history. I used to be obsessed with Fate/Stay Night and could not swallow the ending of the Fate route of the visual novel/2006 anime when I was in high school, so obviously I drew several hundred pages of fan comic to fix it. I used to post it on DeviantArt, but life got in the way back then, so I left it in like chapter 3. (Yes it took like a hundred pages per chapter because I'm me). And I had something like 52 chapters planned, I think. I still pretty much remember the story, so I've been considering reposting the pages somewhere with a summary of how it would have gone, to give closure to people who loved it back then, even though it's very late, and it's pretty unlikely anyone from that time would stumble across it anymore.

At least I had been able to draw and post the whole reason why I began to make the comic, by the end of chapter 1, so I wasn't completely torn about it when I wasn't able to continue. Anyway... in case anyone was curious, this is kind of where I come from. This was my start in fan works. It was a fix-it comic that consumed my life for a while. (Two years, I think.) I could not stop, I was drawing every minute I could. I remember carrying a folder with me everywhere, not only was I drawing on breaks at school and secretly in class, literally even during my folk dance groups' training camp I was already in some corner drawing if we had a five-minute break, same at backstage while someone was braiding my hair for a performance. I could not waste a minute. (My days were full already.)

This was the first long story of mine that had readers I didn't know, who left comments and begged for me to continue. That was really something. I bet that really marks a turning point for a lot of storytellers. I had had ideas for fan works before, but I had always resisted because it "isn't original". Fate/Stay Night was the first time my need to create was too strong, it made me throw that philosophy out the window for a while. (I'm glad it did, obviously, even though part of the reason I quit was because I decided I had to focus on my original fiction at the time.)

My English was still not great, and I had even more problems with anatomy than I do now, but this project definitely made me develop both of those skills a lot. It's always the uncontrollable need to create something that makes me get better at things, because there's just no other way to accomplish what I want than to acquire the skills I need for it, and my brain just doesn't accept not succeeding. If it weren't for this fan comic, I probably wouldn't have done a lot of things I have since then. So I feel like I owe a lot to Fate, and I have many fond memories of this project.

Obviously, I also got mansplained a lot, since it was a pretty male dominant fandom. Guys who hadn't even bothered to read my story yet came to me like "Uuuuh do you have a clue how Fate works, I bet you don't so let me go on paragraphs of monologue" of things that I of course knew just as well as them. Or telling me that my story wasn't even possible because X, Y and Z problems would need to be solved before there could even be another Grail War as the Grail was destroyed... like, really? You thought I didn't think of that? You didn't even consider that maybe I actually have a brain and came up with entirely new concepts that don't exist in canon? (Not to mention, a gigantic franchise with multiple contradictory routes for the same story is a really stupid place to start telling people what is or isn't possible, geez. Why so small-minded?)

Or they were just dismissing me because my story "looked like a shojo manga". (Lol, I know, and that's not an accident. That's what's so great about it, actually. When you combine the high stakes and suspense of shonen with the aesthetic and emotional expression of shojo, how can you lose? When you combine conventions from two different sources, you'll always end up with something that doesn't exist in either of them. A union, a synthesis, is more than the sum of its parts. That's my philosophy, anyway...)

And appearances can be deceiving. Once these guys actually read my story, they told me I was "so good at creating suspense!!!!" and the emotional catharsis of a particular scene had them writing to me that I made them cry. Hah. In your face. (I certainly thought that, even if I had too much manners to tell them.) Don't you just love changing people's minds?

Anyway, looking back at this more than a decade old thing made me quite emotional.

Shiro x Saber forever. 💙💙💙

[dimonds456]

.

i just wanna feel okay. i just wanna move on. i just wanna be able to go a fucking month without thinking about her. all her memory does is give me massive anxiety, and fear, and dread, and i never realize it's coming from her memory until something triggers it again.

i fucking hate this. i know i have ptsd. i have SOME form of it. idk of it's the normal one or c-ptsd or some secret third thing but i'm not exaggerating, and i'm not faking it, and i'm just so fucking tired of fighting it.

it's not even about her. last summer, i almost died. i straight-up barely made it through. and my illness has been affecting me since middle school. my first experience with seeing stars was caused by my thyroid fucking up. my heart rate has been over 200 several times. i don't know how i haven't had a fucking heart attack and keeled over yet.

it's bound to happen. but also not. we're not tied down by fate, there's no such thing. self-fulfilling prophecies yes, and butterfly's wings flap and suddenly you're on the run from the law, yes. but it's not fate, it's an intricate web of cause and effect to get you there.

what caused this in me?

no one fucking knows. i'm tired, and i'm queer, and i'm disabled, but able-passing, and i'm hurt, and traumatized, and guilty of so many things no other living soul knows about, and i'm struggling with religion again and hating myself for it, and i just want to feel okay.

i just want a day where i don't have graves. a day where i can run as fast as i want, and a day where i won't fall over for it, and a day where i can lay on my stomach and pick grass in a field where it's warm or even hot but i'm not uncomfortable, or i want to be able to play tag with my brother, or just go a single fucking day where nothing matters and i can just.... exist.

i want to be alive.

i can't see my future. i can't see where i'll be in ten years. i spent last summer wondering if i'd see 2023. i'm here, and i made it to my 20's (something i didn't think was possible when i was 14), so now, i just gotta get to my 30's, right? but... there's so much shit going on. where will i be at 30? is it even worth thinking about? surely, yes, since the future is important, but... i can't see it. i can't see it, and if i can, the only reliable thing i see is loneliness. i'm always alone, sitting on a couch, touch-starved, watching tv and not even drawing. my hand got fucked up somewhere along the way, cuz of course it was, and i can't do anything.

they say that dreams are a reflection of the subconscious. that whatever reality we don't want to face, it comes out in dreams. but if that's true, why does she keep haunting them? is she in my future?

i want to be alive. i am alive. alive, i tell you.

.....but for how long?

it feels like i'm waiting for a clock to count down, that the people who say that we only breathe a certain number of times in our lives are right and my limit's almost up. i'm going to fall asleep, and not wake up, and no one will even notice for a few days because i'm already a hermit who prefers staying inside because the sun makes me feel awful and even when i'm inside that's when i get eaten alive by just, everything.

i got this far in life by being positive. i can continue to do that. but, my positivity has also blinded me to the bad before, and pretty much every relationship i've ever had has turned sour in some way because i refused to acknowledge a person's faults or express when i was uncomfortable until i couldn't stand it anymore. i wanna lay boundaries, but not upset people. i wanna hold a friendship for more than two years without it rotting away like an old maple leaf downed in acid. i hate thinking about my past, but i also love talking about it because i always think that imparting my bad experiences will help people somehow, even if it hurts me to think about it, but i should think about it, otherwise it'll fester and come out later.

i need therapy, but i can't get it. i'm alone.

i'm alone in my head. i'm alone in this room. i'm alone in this city. i'm alone in my pain, and my struggles, and i'm alone in my life. i feel like i attract bad people and hurt the good ones. i can't maintain a good friendship unless it's online. i'm going to be all alone, by myself, with no one to really reach to when my body finally fails me and i'm left to thrash around by myself.

i need to go to bed.

[officeobject]

Old song parody.

Put Your Records On (Chipettes version), but this is the crap that Manifique Gerald has to deal with (aka, what le Darlen says/sends to him)

from admin on 09/30/2024 10:24 PM

Put Your Records On (Chipettes version), but this is the crap that Manifique Gerald has to deal with (aka, what le Darlen says/sends to him)

Yo, this is allegedly the last chapter/parody thing I can make ... well, it's been fun, and I've made a lot of parodies, most being so good ... I'm actually GLAD this was my last, but didn't know it would be, and I was about to make another one, but I'm now changing my mind ... my parodies have influenced, recorded, and expressed my life, as well as been the alternative lyrics to songs I wanted to listen to, and I wouldn't have all of that, without them. Many popular songs, some that were just what I felt in the moment, or hypothetical scenarios, or even ... whatever my "Hoodie" parody is, and that was the purpose, wasn't it? This fun, consistent, and long-lasting series, has had great descriptions to follow, and many things to cover, but now the year and months have finally caught up ... I loved dissing the people who hurt me, making that one parody for my friend (who I turned into an AI after he left), and finally having the words to say what exactly happened during the bad boy situation, and so much more, and while ❤s have come and gone from this vent-infused compilation, this "book" had iconic memes, a link to the mental health thing (in the Turn Me On parody), and could even work along stories, and more than I ever asked, could ask, or whatever ...

Just kidding, did you think it was over?! I will link the second part here, once I've made it, and my first parody of it - or just PUBLISHED, my first parody of it. Due to a glitch, at some point, in the early days of this, the She-Wolf parody was the preview, but the Teeth parody was actually the first one that one was on, when clicked (and then one could skip back once for the She-Wolf parody), and the cover was also supposed to be temporary - like, I wanted to change it within the hour, then just within the day, and months later, just accepted that it was too iconic to change. Oh, and the start? Well, I had thought of starting it, multiple times, and later thought several times about if I should do it due to seeing someone's favorite song of a survey in a journal-post being "Teeth" (which was also the reason for the parody, besides previous thoughts of changing it into dentistry, but it wasn't always planned to be dark, it just happened), and after more thoughts, it happened, with that cover image being a stock photo I had searched up and deemed outright "perfect" (the She-Wolf parody originally didn't have a cover), and my original plan was covers for all, except maybe the She-Wolf parody. I was actually also worried for getting in trouble for making this, yet here I am. Don't worry, like my stories, the Xanderverse meme thing, AND Separate Category, there will be a part 2 (also, RIP me claiming there was gonna be a second phase of Separate Category, and that I would leave Phase 1 stuff behind, but hey, at least things got more dramatic, I guess). Well, I guess sometimes teeth are the only thing I know, and there's *something* in the closet ... me: I'm frenchfurrygender. Downloadable song lyrics but I ruined them (I ALSO TAKE REQUESTS), compilation book: 2 Many Parodies.

🎶Three little Tapes, sat near my window ...

And they told me I don't need to worry.

The weather came like my taxi ...

Rolling (slowly) ...

Objects smile while they talk all about life ...

Maybe sometimes ...

We, got it wrong, but it's alright ...

The more things seem to change ...

The more I stay the same -

Oh don't you hesitate -

BOY, put your playlist ON,

Tell me your favorite song!

You go ahead, lie yourself down!

Sapphire, and faded JEANS,

I hope you get your dreams,

JUST GO AHEAD, LIE YOURSELF DOWN!

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow ...

Blue as my eyes,

Sleep-deprived and lonely ...

Sipping a hot drink in your office near sunlight -

Just relax, you'll be fine!

Don't you let those other folks ...

Fool you.

Gotta love how you sit like me, too ...

Maybe sometimes ...

We, feel afraid, but it's alright ...

The more they seem to change ...

The more, you stay the same -

You know what I'm about to say -

BOY, put your playlist ON,

Tell me your favorite song!

You go ahead, lie yourself down!

Sapphire, and faded JEANS,

I hope you get your dreams,

JUST GO AHEAD, LIE YOURSELF DOWN!

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow ...

If it's more, than you can take,

Keep sitting, and take a break,

I'm sometimes also awake,

You know I'm just a text away -

When will you realize,

That you don't have to be ALONE any longer?!

I'll hug you 'til you fall over, and you -

BOY, put your playlist ON!

Tell me your favorite song!

You go ahead, lie yourself down!

Sapphire, and faded JEANS,

I hope you get your dreams,

JUST GO AHEAD, LIE YOURSELF DOWN!

BOY, put your playlist ON -

(Boy, put your playlist on)!

Tell me your favorite song -

(Homie, what's your favorite song) -

You go ahead -

(WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE SONG ) -

Lie yourself down -

(WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE SONG ... YEAH)!

Sapphire, and faded JEANS,

I hope you get your dreams -

(TELL ME, HOMIE)!

JUST GO AHEAD, LIE YOURSELF DOWN!

You're gonna find yourself somewhere ... SOMEHOW ...🎶

[cries-in-fat]

Week #1 check-in for Japanese

I wanted to separate my physical and mental health from learning a language; that's why Japanese is solo.

#3 Learn Japanese

My ambitions were bigger than my reality.

I wanted to do at least one grammar point a day, plus all Anki reviews.

Wait, I did not share my plan. 

Alright, the primary grammar source is Cure Dolly: https://www.youtube.com/@organicjapanesewithcuredol49

She makes Japanese grammar simple and logical. I've read somewhere that her reasoning is not always applicable to all the scenarios that can happen in real language. But I couldn't care less about that. I need enough information to parse a sentence and start immersing ASAP. If her explanation does not fill all the gaps, immersion will. Well, at least to some extent. I've been immersed in English for years, and I don't feel like I understand everything and can always express everything correctly.

Other grammar resources will come when I need them. For now, I just google what is unclear and clarify it from various sources.

I also wanted to try WaniKani, but the price is not reasonable for what is behind the paywall. And that is only the system itself, not the data. And I like Anki more than their system - I want to be able to grade myself.  If the word is difficult and I recall it after thinking, I would hit Hard in Anki; the same cannot be done in WK. And the other way around - if I make a typo, it's alright to correct it in Anki but not in WK. 

Morally, I was conflicted about it, but I downloaded an Anki deck from Reddit that is using WK resources. Even though the data are accessible for free, I felt bad. But I started going through the deck, and the mnemonics that I thought were so valuable are often pretty... weird and annoying. Quite a few of them are random names, like Chou, Jourm, Kouichi, and Shougun... Other mnemonics don't really reflect the reading correctly, e.g. 'row' for 'ryou'; I typed in 'rou' several times. I am in the system already, and more than half of those mnemonics are OK, so I will fix those that are not useful and come up with better ones for myself.

For vocab, I downloaded Japanese Core x000 Vocab decks, where x is 1 through 6. I am going through the first deck slowly, but I think it's important not to overwhelm myself with reviews.

During the first week, I realised that I also needed to add grammar to Anki. Making notes is cool, but I need to actively recall the information.

For the past week, I was consistent with Anki, so vocabulary and kanji are getting some attention. Regarding grammar, that is a bit worse - I made notes till lesson 14, but I have only four lessons in my Anki deck.

I don't have the mental power to process grammar after work. Maybe it's OK to leave grammar for weekends.

We will see how it goes.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS - Chapter 22

*Warning: Adult Content*  

As the Christmas holiday approached, Dylan began to miss Jayce even more.

He didn't know what it was like to have a proper Christmas with other people, so he didn't know what he was missing when it came to the holiday but he had always wished he wasn't alone for it.

Having Jayce with him for Thanksgiving had meant a lot to him.

He tried not to let himself think about what it would be like to have Jayce with him on Christmas morning.

It wouldn't do any good to wish for something he knew wasn't going to happen.

Jayce was going to spend Christmas with his parents and his brother's family, and he was going to be alone.

The one thing he did have to look forward to was a gift from Jayce.

A couple days ago, Jayce had texted asking him if he would be home in the days leading up to Christmas because he was sending a Christmas gift and wanted to make sure Dylan would get it.

He didn't know why Jayce had bothered to ask if he'd be home.

If he couldn't go to his cabin in the mountains, there was nowhere else he would be.

He wanted to get Jayce a gift in return but even if he did manage to find something Jayce would like, it was too late to get it sent to him.

Jayce would be flying out to his family anyway, so Dylan decided his gift to Jayce would be driving out to Seattle after Christmas.

The idea unnerved him but he wanted to show Jayce that he was willing to put effort into their friendship.

His phone chimed and he reached for it eagerly.

Texts and calls from Jayce had become the best parts of his day.

"Hey Dylan. Your Christmas present just got delivered, so check outside your front door. I don't want it to get snowed on."

He stepped out of the kitchen and walked over to open his door, expecting to see a small package sitting on the doorstep.

He wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

Jayce was standing there, a big smile on his face and a large red bow pinned to his coat.

To say Dylan was stunned was an understatement.

"What are you doing here?" he managed to ask, wanting to smile but afraid this was too good to be true.

"I'm here to spend Christmas with you, if that's okay."

He stepped forward and pulled Jayce into a hug, still unable to believe this was happening.

"But weren't you going to your brother's house?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by Jayce's hair.

"I'd rather spend the holiday with you. I can see my family another year."

He released Jayce from the tight hug but kept one hand on Jayce's hip.

He couldn't find the words to tell Jayce how much this meant to him.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed Jayce.

Jayce made a small, happy noise and moved closer, resting both of his hands on Dylan's chest as he kissed back.

"I missed you," Jayce murmured against his lips.

"I missed you too," he replied, before stepping back. "Come inside so you don't get cold standing out here."

It was then that he noticed several pieces of luggage behind Jayce.

"What's all that?"

"Some of it's my clothes and a few things I need but I also brought Christmas presents for you."

It seemed like a lot of stuff but he didn't ask any more questions.

He brought the luggage in and found Jayce staring at his living room, a confused expression on his face.

"Dylan, where is your Christmas tree?" Jayce asked, his eyebrows raised.

Dylan shrugged.

"I've never had one. I didn't see the point and there are trees outside."

"You need one so I can put your presents under it. Is there somewhere in town that's still selling trees?"

"No need. Most people get a permit from the Forest Service to cut down their own tree. We have plenty," he said, gesturing outside.

"Okay, that's what we'll do today," Jayce said cheerfully.

He opened the largest suitcase and started pulling out wrapped gifts.

"I'll put these on the other side of the fireplace for now."

Dylan watched as Jayce began to pile gifts of all sizes in the corner of his living room.

He had been expecting one gift but there were at least ten of them.

"This is too much," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief and looking at the gifts around him.

Jayce caught his expression and smiled at him.

"It's not too much. I know your parents didn't celebrate Christmas, so I'm trying to make up for that. Kind of. I know it's not the same but I want you to have a good Christmas."

He felt tears well in his eyes and quickly blinked them away.

He didn't want to get emotional in the first few minutes Jayce was here.

"I don't have anything for you."

"That's okay. I wasn't expecting anything. Besides, you're my gift." Jayce pulled Dylan in and kissed him, soft and slow.

Dylan immediately felt heat course through him and his body began reacting as he wrapped his arms around Jayce.

He wanted Jayce.

Jayce looked so good standing in front of him, his blue eyes bright against the snow outside and the brown walls of the cabin surrounding them.

He didn't even realize he was moving his hips against Jayce until Jayce laughed and began walking them back towards the couch.

It was perfect with the fire crackling in the fireplace, warming their skin as they shed their clothes.

He lay on his back and let Jayce take the lead.

As Jayce kissed him, his hands wandered over Jayce's body, making their way up Jayce's abs, over his ribs and onto his pecs before brushing a nipple.

He loved hearing all the noises Jayce made in response.

Soon their hips were rolling, creating friction between them that made Dylan hold Jayce even closer to him, his fingertips digging into Jayce's lower back.

He wasn't going to last long.

Jayce settled his weight on Dylan, pressing their chests together and nipping at the skin on Dylan's neck and collarbone.

Dylan still wasn't used to making much noise but a moan left his lips as he bucked up against Jayce, chasing the pleasure that was about to overwhelm him.

"Yeah, Dylan, just like that," Jayce panted. "You're so hot."

Hearing Jayce talk that way sent him right over the edge.

He clung to Jayce and didn't relax his grip until Jayce finished and Jayce's moans turned into soft sighs.

Dylan picked his shirt up off the ground to clean them up before grabbing the corner of the blanket from the back of the couch and tugging it down to cover them.

For a few minutes, neither of them said anything.

They simply basked in the warmth of the fire and the heat between their bodies.

Jayce settled on top of him with his head resting on Dylan's chest, and Dylan gently stroked Jayce's hair.

This must be what love felt like.

He could live the rest of his life this way, under a blanket with Jayce's body pressed against his, a fire dancing in the fireplace and casting a golden glow on both of them.

"I'm glad you came back," he admitted to Jayce, being the one to break the silence for once.

"Me too."

"Is your family really okay with you not visiting them?"

Jayce snuggled his cheek against the hair on Dylan's chest.

"My parents aren't thrilled about it but they haven't been happy with me in years so that's nothing new. My brother is disappointed he won't see me but he understands. He's been calling me a lot more since I got lost and he's making an effort to keep in touch. He knows about you and he's supportive of me spending Christmas with you instead."

"You told him about me?"

"Yeah. I told him the whole story about getting lost and you saving me and how I feel about you. He and his wife would like to meet you someday."

Dylan was silent as he processed this.

It meant a lot to him that Jayce told his family about him and that they wanted to meet him.

It was such a normal thing for most other people but to him it seemed like a miracle.

He never thought he'd have someone in his life who cared about him or wanted to introduce him to their friends or family.

"How do you feel about me?" he asked.

"I like you a lot," Jayce replied without any hesitation. "You're kind, smart, independent and it doesn't hurt that you have an amazing body. But you also let me be myself and I don't feel pressure to be perfect like I did with previous boyfriends."

Dylan was careful with how he asked his next question, not sure if he was misinterpreting what Jayce had said or reading too much into it.

"Do you consider me a boyfriend? Or are we still friends?"

Jayce lifted his head, looking right into Dylan's eyes.

"I'd like you to be my boyfriend, if that's something you want."

"Yeah, I do, I want that," he said, stumbling over the words in his haste to say them.

The chance to mean something to someone was a dream he thought was out of reach.

Jayce's smile was infectious,and Dylan found himself smiling back as he continued looking into Jayce's eyes.

Jayce leaned forward to kiss him.

"Okay, boyfriend. How about we go get a Christmas tree?"

He was happy as he rode in Dylan's truck on their way into town.

So far, everything had gone even better than he expected.

Dylan had been thrilled with him showing up to spend Christmas together and the best part was that Dylan still liked him and wanted to be in a relationship with him.

More than anything, he wanted to make Dylan's first relationship a great experience.

He kept his hand on Dylan's leg as Dylan drove, and when they pulled into the parking lot for the hardware store, he reached over and took Dylan's hand.

"I know you're not comfortable going into town, especially now that people believe the ridiculous rumor that you kidnapped me, so you can wait in the truck. I'll go into the store to get the tree stand and lights for the tree."

Dylan seemed like he wanted to say something, but after a moment he squeezed Jayce's hand.

"Thank you," he simply said.

Jayce was quick to find everything in the hardware store.

He didn't want to leave Dylan sitting in the truck for too long.

Back in the parking lot, he deposited everything in the bed of the truck and climbed back into the passenger seat.

"They had some ornaments too," he told Dylan. "They aren't anything special but at least we have everything we need for the tree. We'll have to get more ornaments for next time. There's a year round Christmas store in Leavenworth that we can visit whenever we want to make a trip out there."

Dylan had a strange, somewhat puzzled expression on his face but all he said was.

"Thank you for going in to get all of that."

"Of course. Where can we go to get a tree? Do we need to get the permit to cut it down first?"

"I'll take care of that the next time I go into one of the offices for work."

"What do you do during winter? Are you still working?" he asked.

"I'm on call. If the Forest Service needs me for a project, they'll let me know. It's usually only for the day. Snow management on roads and at snow-parks." Dylan glanced over at him. "Have you had any luck with your job search?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing yet. I might not hear back from anyone until January."

After that, they rode in a comfortable silence.

Jayce stared out the window at the snowy scenery passing by, a faint smile on his face.

This felt like a real Christmas with the winter wonderland stretching out all around them.

Seattle rarely got snow, so Christmas there looked the same as any other time.

They got closer to the mountains before turning down an un-plowed road with no sign.

There was nothing at the end of it but the abrupt end to the road. Some of the trees had bright plastic ribbons tied around them.

"This is an area the Forest Service is going to clear for a new snow-park," Dylan said. "I'm not excited about cutting down a tree just so it can die in my living room but these trees are going to be coming down anyway. Might as well give one of them a chance to shine before the end of its life."

Jayce smiled.

"That's a great idea."

He got out of the truck and followed Dylan to the edge of the clearing.

He chuckled quietly to himself when he realized this situation would have terrified him a couple months ago.

He was following a huge man carrying an axe into the trees off a dead end road.

It was amusing to him that he'd ever been afraid of Dylan.

Now, he'd trust Dylan with his life.

"Pick whichever one you like," Dylan said, gesturing to the trees.

Jayce walked through them, looking at a few before spotting one that was about six feet tall and almost the perfect Christmas tree shape.

"How about this one?"

Dylan shook the tree to knock some of the snow off.

"Hold onto the trunk while I cut it loose."

He kept a firm grip on the tree as Dylan leaned down and began chopping at the base of the tree's trunk.

It didn't take Dylan long at all to cut all the way through and then Dylan handed him the axe and hoisted the tree up onto one of his shoulders. 

When Jayce said earlier that Dylan was his Christmas gift, he meant it.

He couldn't believe he had a huge, mountain man boyfriend for Christmas who could pick up and carry trees like they weighed nothing.

Dylan had no idea how hot he was.

He took a picture of Dylan carrying the tree over to the truck.

He was going to try to document as much as he could so Dylan would always have the memories of his first time celebrating Christmas. 

As they drove back, he took a few pictures of the snowy scenery, followed by a picture of Dylan's cabin covered with snow, and even more pictures of him and Dylan decorating the tree.

His final picture that evening was of the Christmas tree all lit up and adorned with ornaments and Dylan's presents piled under the tree.

He still didn't know how things would turn out between him and Dylan, but he hoped it would be the first of many Christmas' together. 

[purplesurveys]

1713

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Doing another survey. I'm telling you, I like making my Sundays as boring as possible.

What was the last thing you said aloud? Can't really remember. I've been alone the last two hours.

Have you bought anything new this week? Other than food, no.

Name one person who made you smile today. Jo. BFF finally graduated and I guess I'm particularly emotional aboout her graduation because I was witness to most of the trials she went through to get to this point, and holy shit was the road for her rocky for the most part. She is what Yoongi meant when he said, "Dream, may all your trials end in full bloom."

What’s the last thing you had to drink? Coffee.

Ever go camping? Nah, it’s never been something that appeals to me. Maybe if we lived somewhere with guaranteed decent weather I would give it a go, but around here it just rains all the time haha. < Same with me, except that here it's either way too hot, or rains way too hard.

What’s your favorite candy? Chewy ones, like Fruitella.

Do you send messages on Facebook a lot? Yes, that's where I communicate with literally every non-work person ever. Messenger is a necessity at this point given I don't even text anymore except for work.

Have you ever gone to a strip club? I have never gone inside one but would like to try to at least once.

Last sporting event you watched? The Philippines vs Norway, Women's World Cup just this afternoon. We mounted a public watch party given that one of my clients is a major sponsor for our national team.

We lost – and subsequently lost our place in the World Cup – but it doesn't feel like we have lost at all. It's big enough of a win to have the Philippines even just be part of the World Cup, let alone WIN A MATCH (against New Zealand, last Tuesday). It's chilling to be alive for such historic achievements and I love our Filipinas to bits :')

What were you doing at 8am this morning? Fast asleep.

Anything you wish you could change? Yes I wish we can have 4-day work weeks.

Do you go in at a fast food place or drive thru? Drive-thru or delivery always. I genuinely can't tell you the last time I actually dined inside a fast food place.

What do you think when you hear Australia? Stores closing early. And the Irwin family.

Who’s the last person you talked to on the phone? A media contact who was asking for additional slots under his reservation for the watch party earlier.

Do you like Chinese food over pizza? Nah. Chinese food can be great, but the casual kind like Panda Express is usually shit and comes off as inauthentic. You'd have to go to a sit-down restaurant to really enjoy the full flavors and experience of Chinese food; whereas good pizza is pretty easy to find.

Do you have a tan? I'm just...naturally tan. I don't need to 'have' a tan.

Biggest annoyance in life right now? I'm nearly out of vape juice and every puff is tasting increasingly smokier and shittier, but all the shops are closed and I wouldn't be able to get a replacement till like 10 AM tomorrow at the earliest.

Do any of your friends have children? Not my friends, but I have several classmates in my batch who now do.

Are you jealous of anyone? Nah.

Where is your dad? He lives where he works (i.e. a cruise ship), and I imagine at this hour he has just woken up and is getting ready to start work. I'm not actually sure though if he works weekends? I'll need to ask him that; he doesn't typically talk about his job with us so I know very little about his everyday routine.

Any plans today? All I wanna do is eat and take surveys and watch BTS later tonight. Enjoy what's left of my weekend until I'm too exhausted to keep my eyes open.

Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don't drink soda. I do like straws with my coffee though.

Last song listened to? All Day by Namjoon and Tablo.

Do you take vitamins daily? No.

Is anyone jealous of you? Not that I know.

What are you doing tomorrow? It'll just be work again. It'll be a Monday though so I imagine the workload will be 5x more than usual.

What’s your favorite number? 7.

Do you have a maid come in and clean your house? No and that's not usually the case here. For households with house help, they usually live in the house and have their own rooms. I remember finding it very unusual when I first learned how in other countries, maids will drop by to do their job but leave at the end of the day. Cultural differences, I guess.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? I can't. I know someone who can though.

Cedar Point or Six Flags? Whatever.

Have you ever slept in until 1 PM? Not straight. It's always staggered – like I'd wake up at 9 AM, go back to sleep, wake up at 11 AM, go to sleep, then wake up at 1.

Do you believe in love at first sight? No but I also don't judge if other people claim it happened to them.

Do you like the show Viva La Bam? I have never see it. Not my type of show.

How many kids do you want to have? None forever and ever and ever.

Have you ever gone behind your parents' backs? Yes.

Have you ever lost someone? Of course.

Where did you get your worst scar from? An overly excited Cooper.

What time did you wake up today? Around 9:10 AM.

Have you ever tried to erase someone from your memory? Mhm.

Last meal? A croissant from Dunkin. I'm still eating it though. Then right after this I'll be eating a cinnamon doughnut, also from Dunkin.

Do you like coco pebbles the cereal? I've never tried! I've had Fruity Pebbles though; I bought it purely because The Rock once referenced it in a promo with John Cena. It got super over to the point that I wanted to check out what the fuck these 'Fruity Pebbles' were, lol.

Last time you saw your father? It'll be three weeks this Friday :) I'll be seeing him again this November.

Last time you cried? The other day when I was watching Jungkook's reaction to this year's ARMY song. Man cried live and in front of 11,000,000 people and his voice even broke when he tried to speak, how could I not cry with him lol??

When you get married what do you think you’ll put most of your focus and money into? Coming from my experience in PR and mounting events I feel like I would be very particular about event elements lol. Like making sure the food selection fits what our guests would like, having enough activities or prompts to do so people enjoy their whole time there, approving the music choices, etc. Also generally making sure the program flow is in perfect shape from start to finish.

Probably not the best priority in the first place, which is why I am NOT cut out for marriage anyway hah.

Would you freak out if you were to get pregnant by the last person you hooked up with? I have never hooked up with anyone but in theory yes I would freak out in any case.

When’s the last time something turned out better than expected? Last Friday. Just work stuff falling into place at the last possible moment, when I thought they wouldn't.

Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? Myself. And my clients. :) They're all so very nice and understanding but at the end of the day we have a work relationship, so I can't help but associate feelings of stress with them.

Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? Nah. My dad and I attended the same university, but there was no overlap in profs as far as I know because our courses are vastly different from one another to begin with – he took up hotel and restaurant management; I did journalism.

What’s something you complain about frequently? Never-ending work and parents who think their noisy fucking kids have the right to own the world.

Do you have anything planned for the summer? That time of the year is done. My one scheduled plan then was my trip to Bangkok to see Yoongi :D I still can't believe I get to say I saw BTS DJKFHDJKFHDFFLS

Do you walk fast or slow? Fast or moderate, depending on what I'm walking for. I only ever walk slow in museums, I think.

What form of public transport do you use most often? Continued from last Sunday. I don't use public transport. If I need to go somewhere and can't drive, I book a Grab.

Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Yeah I have a few bottles of soju and beer.

Is any part of you sad at all? Maybe not sad, just tired and in need of another break.

Who was the last person to disappoint you? Just a few family members with some questionable opinions.

Have you ever let someone go? Yes.

Are you a patient person? It differs. I'm patient with things like waiting in line or if a server messes up at a restaurant, but I can be impatient at work.

Do you think you’ve changed over the past year? Yeah, for sure. This time last year I was in a bit of a professional and emotional rut, and that has since faded for the most part. Also I was a looooot more inexperienced in my role as a manager, something I'm confident to say I've grown from.

Is there something that happened in your past you hate talking about? Sure. I'm an open book and have no issues tackling the past but that doesn't necessary mean I *like* talking about some memories, if that makes sense.

Your ex is sitting next to you, what do you do? If they were willing and were friendly enough, I'd greet them and quickly catch up.

Are you someone who worries too often? Only about work, but otherwise I like to be carefree these days.

Have you ever been completely alone with a boy in his room? Not a boy.

Do you ever think “what if” about anything? Of course, can't avoid those thoughts sometimes.

Is the last person you kissed older than you? No.

Does everyone deserve a second chance? Nope.

Are you emotionally strong? I try to be. I've been through my fair share of shit and from all those moments I've learned to just get the fuck up after allowing myself to cry a bit.

Is there anyone you don’t wanna lose? Of course.

Are you the type of person who seeks out revenge? No. I'm passive-aggressive sometimes when I know I'm in the right but plotting Actual Revenge just seems so childish at this point.

Do you think two people can last forever? Sure. It's a comforting thought to have about relationships.

Do you like falling asleep listening to the rain? Yes!!! Sometimes I'll even turn on like an hour-long raining sound effect video if I have trouble falling asleep.

Is your current hair color your natural hair color? It isn't.

Do you believe that the last person that you kissed cares for you? No.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? I'm happy with some; I have no choice but to just move forward with some others.

Do you honestly have feelings for someone at the moment? Continued from the night before, again. Nope.

Have you ever slept in the same bed as the opposite sex? No.

Are there things in your life that you’ll never be able to get over? Sure, for better and for worse.

Have you dated someone older than you? Nope.

[olivia-soffey-author]

Painting The San Diego Sky

The San Diego sky is beautiful tonight. Vibrant hues of tangerine melt into a deep shade of magenta over the San Diego Skyline. I peered through a crack in the door to the back porch as I intently studied my new foster mom. Her dark brown skin glowed in the rays of the sun. She carefully spread oil paint across the canvas with a pallet knife while humming a happy tune to herself.

When you're a foster teen, you cycle through a lot of moms, but I've never met anyone quite like her before. Her name is Penelope Kingston. I don't know what kind of job she has, but she wears a pink suit every single day. She owns one in every shade from blush to cerise. Some were covered in various prints and patterns while others were plain. Her closet looked more like it belonged to a Barbie doll than it did a person. Tonight, she was wearing a rose-colored sundress, and she'd woven a flower crown of fresh carnations into her boho braids. She joyously danced along to the tune in her head as she added more color. I've never met someone who is so unabashedly themselves before. I wonder how it feels not to care what anyone thinks of you.

During my deep contemplation, Penelope caught sight of me spying and beckoned me outside. I trudged outside with a guilty expression, resembling that of a puppy that had been caught chewing on its owner's shoes.

She giggled. "Don't look at me like that, Fierro. You're not in trouble."

The corners of my lips turned upward in a half smile.

She proudly showed off her painting. "What do you think?"

"It's pretty," I said honestly. The painting was a vibrant interpretation of the sun setting over the San Diego skyline.

She stroked her chin thoughtfully. "You're right. It is pretty, but it's missing something." She handed me a fine-tipped paintbrush. "Here, add something."

I shook my head and tried to give the brush back to her. "No way, I can't do that. I'll probably do it all wrong and ruin your artwork."

"There's no wrong way to express yourself creatively," She chided. "Besides I have plenty more paintings."

I hesitantly dipped the tip of my brush into brown paint and added two small birds sitting on a telephone wire.

"It's perfect!" She squealed, pulling me into a tight hug. "You've got a real artistic eye."

"I barely did anything."

"That's alright! Everyone's artistic journey starts somewhere." She reached behind her easel and pulled out a blank mixed-media sketchbook. "Here

"You can ask me anything."

"Why do you wear your hair like that? What's the point of all the flowers?"

She paused for a long moment. "Well, how did you pick your current hairstyle?”

I ran a hand over my buzz cut. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it before. I guess it's because it's easier to take care of, and I'm less likely to get lice in a group home."

"Does your appearance make you feel confident?"

I gave an indifferent shrug.

"For me, my look is about more than convenience. It's about self-expression. My hair makes me feel like me, you know?"

"I don't think I know who I am," I confessed.

Well then, we need to help you find yourself.

In the following weeks, I took Penelope's sketchbook with me to school and tried to draw some random objects I saw. So far, I had drawn a pen, a service dog, a basketball, a 3-D model of the human brain, and a bag of chips stuck in the vending machine. They all looked terrible. The lines were all wonky, the depth was all wrong. Oh well, I tried. I tucked the sketchbook in the back corner of my closet. In other news, I started growing my hair out. I couldn't stop thinking about my conversation with Penelope. Did I feel confident in my own skin? Should I? I didn't have answers to those questions, but a change of style couldn't hurt. Right now, my hair is spiked up in several different directions. It was still too short to properly style, so I was stuck looking like a chicken for the time being. Did I feel more like myself? Maybe. I don't know what myself is supposed to feel like. When you spend your entire life just trying to survive, you don't always have the time to discover yourself.

On the last Saturday in May, I came downstairs to find Penelope eagerly waiting for me. "Put your shoes on. We're going on an adventure." She threw a tote bag at me, which I caught in midair. I peeked inside to find it full of art supplies. "Your sketchbook has been collecting dust for too long. Let's fill it up today!"

"But I'm not any good at drawing. I don't think I'm meant to be making art."

"Don't be ridiculous. All expression is art and expression is for everyone," She insisted. "The most important question is, do you have fun when you're creating?"

I thought about it for a long time, then said. "I had fun painting with you on the patio."

"Perfect! Let's make something together!" She led me to her strawberry-pink Mercedes and hopped in. "Alright Fierro, if you don't like art what kind of things do you like to do?"

"Napping," I said without hesitation.

She laughed. "Okay, what else?"

"I like to go for walks."

"Great! What do you enjoy about the walks?"

"I guess I enjoy being outside in the fresh air and watching the birds."

"Buckle up, I know exactly where we're going."

We drove in silence for several minutes. I could tell the lack of conversation was killing her, but I was too shy to say anything. Eventually, she couldn't bear it any longer and spoke up, "So I've been thinking, we should decorate your room. It's so empty and depressing right now."

To her, my room probably looked like a barren wasteland. In comparison to the rest of the house, it was pretty desolate. Penelope's home was a lot like her. It was filled with color and personality, and decorated with love. Every room was themed after a different color of the rainbow and adorned with vibrant floral wallpaper and an eclectic collection of up-cycled furniture. Every surface was littered with trinkets and knick-knacks. The word Minimalism was not in her vocabulary. My room was the opposite of hers, it was completely bare apart from a twin-sized bed and an old trash bag filled with my humble belongings. "No, thank you. I want to keep it the way it is. It will be easier to pack up when I have to leave." I stared blankly out the window, so I wouldn't have to make eye contact with her as I spoke.

"Fierro," she whispered with so much sadness in her voice it broke my heart. "You know I care about you, right?"

I nodded.

"I know it will be hard for you to ever feel fully at home somewhere, but I want you to know I don't have any plans to get rid of you. So you can relax, alright?"

"Alright," I said, just to appease her. I'd heard that one before and I know how it ends. If I know one thing for sure, It's that parents never stay. Even if Penelope is telling the truth, and she won't transfer me to another home, I'm still sixteen rapidly approaching eighteen. Once I age out of the system I’ll be all on my own. If I let myself love her, I don't think I'll be able to live with the pain of letting her go.

We pulled into the parking lot and I read the large green sign. San Diego Zoo.

Woah, isn't this place crazy expensive?" I remarked. I can't afford this. My bank account has negative ten dollars in it!"

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Chillax. This is my treat. You need to learn to let lose a little bit."

We purchased our tickets and entered the park. I glanced at Penelope expectantly as she studied the map. "Where are we going first?"

"That's up to you. Where is your artist's intuition leading you?"

I pointed to the aviaries on the map.

She beamed. "Excellent choice."

We stepped into the elegant glass dome and the birds erupted into a cacophony of chirps and caws to welcome us to their habitat. First, I tried to sketch the hummingbirds, but they moved too fast for me to capture their likeness. I opted to try drawing the peacock instead. His slow strides and lack of flight made him the perfect model. I crouched down to his level while being careful not to touch the feces-covered ground. I took out my sketchbook and a pencil and Penelope did the same. I was unsure where to begin, so I glanced at her page for inspiration.

He noticed my wandering gaze and decided to assist me. "Let's start with simple shapes. What basic shapes can you identify?"

"The body kind of looks like an oval, and the neck is sort of S-shaped like a snake. The head is round, but pointy at the same time, like a teardrop," I observed.

"You have a great eye! Now, etch those shapes onto the page as lightly as you can and darken them once you're satisfied with the way it looks."

I followed her instructions, and soon I had a basic sketch of the body head, and neck that looked halfway decent.

“Let’s start working on those feathers. Start with the largest ones at the base of the tail and work your way to the smaller ones at the tip.”

I sketched the long curved shapes and tried to mimic the pattern to the best of my abilities. I also added the legs and feet along with some details on the face. I flipped the sketch around, so the peacock could view it. He pecked it and then let out a squawk of approval.

Penelope began coloring in her sketch with an indigo pencil.

I carefully mirrored her light strokes. “How do you make the colors look so vibrant?”

“Try blending different colors, start with the lightest hue, and fade into the darkest shade.”

For the next hour, my focus was zeroed in on the drawing. I seamlessly blended shades of indigo, midnight blue, cerulean, turquoise, lime, gold, and emerald until I was satisfied with the results. I wiped the sweat off my brow and rushed over to Penelope to show off my work.

She let out a delighted gasp and pulled me into a tight hug. “Fierro! It’s beautiful! You should be so proud of yourself!”

An overwhelming sense of warmth flared in my chest. Is this what little kids feel like when their parents hang their artwork on the fridge? I wouldn’t know. For the brief time, I knew my birth parents; they weren’t the type to show any approval or support for my accomplishments. They claimed they were too busy for coddling. Somehow they always found the time to tell me I was worthless and would never amount to anything. I shook my head to wake myself from the terrible memories. It didn’t matter what was said in the past. They were dead to me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “Thank you, Penelope. Your kindness means a lot to me.”

We spent the rest of our time at the zoo in the aviaries sketching the different birds. By the end of the day, I had drawn a toucan, a macaw, a lovebird, an African pygmy goose, and a flamingo. With every sketch, my skills improved. Every new drawing looked slightly more accurate than the last. We worked on our sketches until the zookeepers came to kick us out at closing time.

On our way back to the car I apologized for using up all of our time in the aviary.

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “Never apologize for being in a creative state of flow.”

When we got home I taped all of my artwork to the wall above my bed in a noticeable place for everyone to admire.

In the following weeks, school let out for the summer and I spent my days sleeping in and going for long walks around the city, doodling the sights whenever I felt inspired. I got a summer job hauling bags of food at the pet store. It was grueling work, but I enjoyed visiting the animals every day. Penelope and I started hosting Mario Kart tournaments in our condo every Tuesday night. Don’t be fooled by Penelope’s kind demeanor; she is one of the fiercest competitors I’ve ever met. She doesn’t just want to win, she seeks to obliterate the competition. Lucky for me, I am also a merciless force of nature when I’m on the racetrack. In the group homes where I grew up, the Wii was my foster parents’ favorite tool for keeping the kids busy and out of trouble. I was the master of every game they had. It got to the point where none of the other children would play with me because they were too afraid of my awesomeness. Penelope was not intimidated by my skills. Our tournaments typically ended with us throwing all of our shells at each other until there was only one person left standing. She won some races, I almost won others. Someday I was finally going to win, then her reign of terror would finally be over. As time passed by I felt myself changing. After every day I spent with Penelope, I became a little less shy and I felt more secure. I found myself smiling and laughing a lot more than I ever did before. My hair now reached my eyebrow and was finally long enough to tame. It took some practice to find a style that looked good on me, but once I did I seemed to get compliments everywhere I went.

“It looks like you’re becoming a local heartthrob, Fierro,” Penelope teased.

I would act humble, but deep down I loved the rush of satisfaction that came with being noticed. That June and July had been the happiest time of my life. It was the closest I’d ever come to being a normal kid. When August rolled around things took a turn for the worst.

It started late one night as I was dragging the trash out to the dumpster. Even after dark, the California heat was brutal and unforgiving. The sweltering humidity further exacerbated the foul odors emanating from the dumpster. When I went to open the lid, I spotted a flier for a community art gallery. I knew Penelope would love that, so I reached down to pick it up. Before I had the chance to grab it, someone else picked it up.

He let out a scoff and read it aloud. “We invite all members of the community to showcase their artistic talents in our free open community art gallery. Whether you're a seasoned artist or just starting, we want to see your interpretation of landscapes with emotions. All types of paintings, from oils to watercolors, acrylics to pastels, are welcome. We want to celebrate the diversity of our community and the richness of its artistic expression.” He crumpled up the flier and threw it at me. “Is this the kind of garbage you’re into now? Are you the kind of guy who paints his feelings? I thought I raised you to be tougher than that.”

I looked up to see my father standing in front of me with a belittling expression on his face. My heart pounded so violently, I thought I might be having a heart attack. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be doing four more years. Please tell me you didn’t break out!”

“Don’t be absurd. They let me out early, on good behavior. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. You left me no choice but to track you down.”

After my mother died, my father was granted custody of me. He didn’t know the first thing about raising children, and he barely had enough money to take care of himself, much less a child. This led him to take part in a major money laundering scheme, so he could afford to send me to daycare. Everything was going fine until the FBI caught wind of what he was doing, and sent him to prison. That’s how I ended up in foster care. He was supposed to be in the middle of a fifteen-year sentence, but it appears that is no longer the case.

I crossed my arms and tried to act tough. “What do you want from me?”

He leaned against the dumpster and lit a cigar. “I want to see my son. Is that too much to ask? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

I’d done my best to stay as far away from him as I could. I hadn’t seen him since my social worker stopped forcing me to go to visitations. She noticed how miserable the visits made me and chose to spare me the pain.

My father scanned me up and down appraisingly. “You’ve gotten fat,” he remarked, his voice laced with disdain.

I had put on some weight since he’d seen me last. My ribs no longer protruded from malnourishment and neglect. My shoulders grew broader and my arms became thicker. I was no longer the fragile wisp of a child he could bully and demean however he felt like. Every pound I had gained was a blessing because it meant I was no longer starving. “My weight is none of your business. I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“It was just an observation. You need to learn how to accept criticism. You’ll never get anywhere in life if you keep being so sensitive.”

"It's better to be sensitive than a convicted felon."

“Don’t disrespect me!”

“Or what? You’ll hit me like you used to?”

He took a step forward, his cigar smoke wafting into my face. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about. I remember every time you hit me, every time you belittled me, and made me feel worthless."

He looked away, a hint of shame flickering across his face. "I was a different person back then. I'm trying to fix things right now."

I scoffed. “Is that why you came here? To deliver a half-assed apology.”

He hesitated. “Not, entirely. I need to ask you for something.”

“What?” I said through clenched teeth, losing all patience for the good-for-nothing deadbeat I call dad.

“Listen, I need to borrow some money.”

I let out a laugh so loud I startled myself. “You’re delusional. What on earth makes you think I would ever give you a single cent?”

He took a long drag of his cigar and released it in a pungent cloud of smoke. “My girlfriend is pregnant, and we can’t afford to pay her medical bills. We have nothing, Fierro. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn’t desperate.”

“Is the baby yours?” Was my dad having another child? He couldn’t even care for the one he had! I threw my hands up in the air. “You know what? I don’t care! You abandoned me, and then you have the audacity to track me down and beg for money!”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I never want to speak to you again!”

“Son.” He took a step forward toward me.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Get out!” I threw an empty soda can at him.

He raised his hands in surrender and began walking away. He didn’t say a word, but he turned back to look at me one last time.

“If I ever see you snooping around here again, I’ll file a restraining order! Do you hear me?” I screamed into the darkness, but it was no use. He was already gone.

I didn't tell Penelope about the confrontation with my father, but she could sense that I was quieter than usual. She didn’t force me to share, and I appreciated that. I didn’t want to talk about it. A feeling of guilt clawed at my gut. Maybe I should have given my dad some money. It’s not the baby’s fault my dad is a deadbeat and a dirtbag.

I tried my best to forget all about my father and the conversation we’d had. I was doing a decent job at ignoring his existence until I got the phone call that changed everything. It happened in the middle of the night. I was too hot to sleep, so I sat at my desk making a watercolor painting of the night sky. Then my phone rang, startling me out of my deep concentration. I picked up my phone to see who was calling me at such an ungodly hour of the night. It was my social worker, Mindy. I felt a rising wave of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. It was uncharacteristic of her to call me so late. I knew something was wrong. My entire body trembled as I pressed the answer button. “Hey, Mindy. What’s going on?”

“Hello, Fierro. I’m sorry to call you this late, but I have some upsetting news to share with you.”

My heart pounded violently in a fast rhythm. I suddenly felt like I was going to vomit. Was I going to have to move again? “What’s going on?”

“It’s about your father. He was run over by a drunk driver earlier tonight. He died on the way to the hospital. I’m so sorry.”

My entire body went numb. I had no idea how I was expected to respond to this information, so I said, “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m going to speak with your foster mom to make sure you’re receiving proper support during this difficult time. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

“Fierro, wait!”

I hung up on her. I didn’t want to talk. I needed to be alone with my thoughts for a while. As terrible as it sounds, the first emotion I felt was a relief. I wasn’t being taken away from Penelope. I could stay here with her, but at what cost? My father was dead and one of the last things I ever said was, “I never want to see you again.” I sat alone in silence, waiting to feel some overwhelming sense of grief or guilt, or any emotion at all, but deep down I felt nothing. Inside I just felt hollow. I expected Mindy to call back and scold me for hanging up on her, but she never did. Once I got tired of blankly staring at my bedroom ceiling, I tiptoed downstairs for a change of scenery.

Penelope stood at the kitchen counter stirring a mug of coffee with a far-off look in her eyes. Once she heard me enter the kitchen, she rushed over and pulled me into the warmest of hugs. Tears dripped from her eyes as she held me close. “Fierro, Mindy told me the news. I’m so sorry. I know how you must be feeling right now.

She didn’t have a clue how I was feeling. I barely knew how I felt. Whatever emotion it was certainly wasn’t sorrow. She seemed more upset about the loss than I was at the moment. And yet, after about a minute of silence, something overcame me. I hugged her back and let the tears fill my eyes. I wasn’t crying for my father. I was crying for myself. I cried for my past self, the lonely child whose father was never there. I cried for my present self, who only wanted to be loved. I cried for my future self, who would never have the chance to make things right.

Penelope stroked my hair as I sobbed into her shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here. I got you.”

I stayed in my room for several days only coming out for occasional meals. I wasn’t hungry most of the time. I took the week off from work. told my boss I’d be going out of town for the funeral. That was a lie, I had no intention of going to the funeral. I’d already missed the wake. It felt disrespectful to go see him after the way I ended things. I rolled over in bed and stared at the exotic bird calendar Penelope had bought for me. Today was August 5th, the day I’d been dreading. Not only was it the day of my father’s funeral, but it was also my seventeenth birthday. Happy birthday to me, I guess. I used all my willpower to drag myself out of bed and down the stairs.

When I came downstairs I was greeted with a stack of pancakes with a birthday candle sticking out of it. The words happy birthday were spelled out in maple syrup. I guess Penelope remembered what day it was. She'd gone out with friends last night. I had hoped she would sleep in and forget all about it. I had to practically push her out the door last night, so I could cry myself to sleep in peace.

Penelope sat in the chair directly across from me and gave a comforting reassuring smile. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

I forced a smile in return. “You remembered.”

“I would never forget it.”

Of course she wouldn’t, she was too good of a mom to ever let it slip from her memory.

She gently rubbed my wrist. “Listen, I’m not going to force you to go anywhere or do anything today, but if there is something you’d like to do, let me know, and I’ll make it happen.”

I stared down at my plate of pancakes. “I’m not really in the mood to do anything special.”

She gave an understanding nod. "Alright, how about a walk?"

"Just a walk? No surprises?"

"No surprises," She promised.

After breakfast, we slipped on our shoes and began our walk to the pier. The weather was perfect. The sky was a brilliant shade of baby blue that stretched as far as the eye could see, not a single cloud could be spotted along the horizon. Warm rays of golden sunlight illuminated the city in a warm glow. I cursed the sky for being so blue. How could everything be so beautiful on the day my father is going to be buried? Locals walked their dogs and tourists took selfies by the waterfront. Isn’t it cruel how life goes on like nothing happened after you’ve lost everything? I stood at the end of the pier and watched as a father lifted his young son onto his shoulders so he could enjoy the ocean view. I averted my gaze and stared out at the still waters instead. It felt like the universe was giving me a colossal middle finger for ever believing I could’ve had a father like that.

“Do you mind if we stop for a moment?” Penelope asked.

“That’s fine,” I said as I gazed vacantly at the tranquil turquoise waters.

She sat on a wooden bench and pulled out her sketchbook along with a set of oil pastels. She motioned for me to sit next to her as she began sketching.

She ripped out a blank page and handed it to me without saying a word.

I glanced between the empty page and the peaceful sea. I wasn’t in the mood to draw it as it was. I felt wrong to draw such a happy sight on a day like today. Instead, I chose the darkest, murkiest shades of gray, green, and navy. With harsh, powerful strokes I drew fierce powerful tidal waves crashing into sharp, jagged rocks beneath a blackened sky. Using the white pastel I added fragmented bolts of lightning tearing through the sky. I focused all the anger and heartbreak I felt toward my father and directed it into the piece. Once the drawing was completed I let out an exhausted breath. I felt like I had just fought a war.

Penelope glanced over at my work. She didn’t say anything, but she gave me an approving nod. We spent the rest of our time together enjoying each other's company in silence until we began our walk home. Penelope finally broke the silence as we walked past the cemetery. “Do you mind if we stop for a moment?”

I eyed her wearily, but I didn’t argue. I didn’t know what to expect when she led me deep into the cemetery. I feared maybe she’d force me to attend my father’s burial, but instead, she led me to a joint tombstone that read, Jeffrey and Maria Kingston. Loving Mother and Father. Penelope set down a drawing of a dark-skinned little girl being held in a loving embrace by her parents on top of the grave. She shed a single tear and then continued our walk home as if nothing had happened.

“You’re an orphan,” I said. It wasn’t a question, it was an observation.

She nodded. “I am. My father was a soldier. He gave his life in the line of duty. My mother died of cancer not long after. I grew up in foster care just like you. I never had anyone to care for me. That’s why I became a foster mom; so I could make sure another orphan could have a better life than I did.”

Hearing her story made me view Penelope in a new light. I always believed her joy and kindness came from a place of naivety. I thought she was happy because she didn’t know what it was like to suffer, but I was wrong. She understood pain more intimately than most people do and she chose to be happy despite everything she’d been through. “Thank you for giving me a chance. I can hardly remember what my mother was like, but if I did have a mom I would want her to be exactly like you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s been an honor to call you my son.”

As we walked back to her house, I couldn't help but think about the drawing she had left on her parents' grave. It was a powerful reminder of the love and connection that existed between families, even when they were separated by death. And it made me realize that, in some small way, I had found a new family with Penelope.

When we got home, Peneolpe set the crumpled flyer for the community gallery on the table. Without any preamble, she said, “I think you should submit one of your pieces to the gallery.”

“Me? No. I brought that flyer home for you. I’m not any good.”

“You don’t need to be modest. I’ve seen your recent work. You’re very talented. Besides, this gallery is open for everyone, you don’t have to be a pro to submit.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

For the fifth night in a row, I couldn’t sleep. So I dug through my portfolio for something worthy of being displayed in a gallery. My eyes caught on the drawing of the stormy sea I made today. Plenty of my drawings were pretty, but one was meaningful. It was infused with all of the grief, anger, and sorrow, I was experiencing, and that made it significant. At that moment, I decided this was the piece I needed to submit to the gallery.

Over the next few days, I worked on the drawing, refining and perfecting it until it felt like a true representation of everything I was feeling. Finally, I mustered up the courage to submit it to the community gallery, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. A few weeks went by, and I received an email that left me ecstatic - my piece had been accepted for the gallery exhibition. I couldn't believe it. On the day of the exhibition, I arrived early, dressed in my best clothes, my heart pounding with anticipation. As I walked through the gallery, I saw my drawing on display alongside other beautiful pieces of art. It was a surreal moment, one that I had never imagined possible. I looked around and saw Penelope beaming at me from across the room, her eyes full of pride. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had accomplished something truly meaningful.

I looked at the empty spot by my beside my painting where my father could have been standing in another life If things were different. If he were a better father, a better man. Now the thought of him didn’t fill me with the same level of rage and sorrow like it used to, and that was a start. I wasn’t plagued with the same sense of hopelessness I used to feel because I knew Penelope would never abandon me like he did.

A professional-looking man, wearing a sharp business suit and designer glasses stopped in front of my painting to carefully appraise it. He stared at it for a long time, not saying a word or showing any kind of emotion.

“Is it any good?” I asked nervously, unsure of how to react when someone scrutinizes your artwork.

“Did you make this?” He asked.

I nodded.

“You know, I see a dozen paintings of the pier a day. They all want to paint the pretty scenery. Yours is special, It’s not just pretty I can tell there’s a deeper meaning buried in here. I’d like to buy it.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “You really want to buy it?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it. You’ve got a bright future, kid,”

I smiled at Penelope and for once I believed that was true.

[lightcreators]

last of us (show) starters //  @bccksmarts

Was he ? Naturalness of that thought resonated inside every corner of his mind. Was he ? Receive acknowledgment of what he had achieved was most pleasant flattery he could take, he wouldn't denying such thing neither escape pleasure of such an sentence … nevertheless, it was merely a first step, foundations themselves, of something more. Amusement pictured a little moment inside thoughtful severe gaze, as she might possibly thinking about all these times at Hogwarts where he acted like a brat --- Would hardly apologizing for all the terrible things he did back then. Would stil opening an mending door over how unkind he had been with allies who was hanging around in middel of Hogwarts's wall. Oooh, he played with their poor hearts, exposing horrible truths down their face, had tourmenting them mentally as his bright presence hidden how nasty he was … but all this was just his personal entertainment. He destroyed hearts intellectually for his breakfast, and offered himself a dinner filled with truths unveiled in faces of the concerned, finding himself drawn by themselves. Barely he had been dangerous !

❝ Because I've been an asshole even since I first enter in Hogwarts ? ❞ He mused playfully. Regardless how many years passed, he never forget how, at his first day, at the true beginning of everything, at the strart of his steps in middle of an magic school, he showed naturally somewhere his true nature. How naturally his need of condescendance had to show up, without offense to someone, and how resentful he easily turned. Right now, he wanted mockingly laugh of those childish pasts. Spitefulness had been a slow emotion who settling down inside his soul, transformed the taste and the scent of his presence, who wrapped the rest of his future and determinated his path. However, away of remembrances who forced him on that path, he didn't wanted mentally recall them. Miss Granger merited to be flattered with truth about that point. He decided to break an Dark Lord with all his sadism for an grudge. He decided to took for himself that crown filled of darkness by revenge --- where he couldn't be the executioner. He simply … helped … circumstances to receive what he wanted in conditions he could get. ❝ Or it's about how you were helped all along from inside, but whole world was spared seeing me kill big bad wolf myself? I would have decapitated him on a large platter and offered to the world as a relic doomed to decay … something to be done otherwise. ❞ He was speaking of the Ministry of course. The most important gear that allowed him to transform wizarding world into a new world. ❝ Neither of us wants the ashes of the past to be reborn into new darkness. You'll do everything you can to make sure that doesn't happen. Oh, Potter will fight on his own, couldn't bear the possibility. Why not take advantage of your awareness of what I am to create a beautiful partnership together? Either way, my name will end up resonating somehow~ ❞ Harshness of his sentences expressed how he currently acting as the Malfoy's heir at the moment in front of her. Possibly would be amused about how he had been the one invit her inside his manor --- There was no parents around. His home could be his personal realm, where everything who have been missed out before could be built differently from now on.

[holden-caulfield]

What If I Don't Want You To?

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii! I saw that you wanted people to leave kaz requests in your asks so here I am! Could you do a ff in wich the reader is a part of the crows and she's really sarcastic and flirty (similar to jesper) and she constantly flirts with kaz, (he acts like it doesn't affect him but he secretly loves it) and one day she does something especially bold that makes him blush madly and they finally admit their feelings for each other (also a lot of teasing of the crows to kaz pls) thank you so much!"

SUMMARY: reader loves to tease kaz but is scared once she realizes she might have gone too far.

WARNINGS: a mention of blood but nothing graphic

WORD COUNT: 1422

Kaz was the most closed-off person you knew. He never revealed anything, wether it was his feelings or the details of a new plan, and it enraged you. That's why you took it upon yourself to see just how far you could push him.

Flirting with Kaz Brekker wasn't an easy task, nor was it rewarding but it sure was fun. The crows loved to see which new technique you would have used and what effect it would have had on Kaz. It was usually a simple glare; a snarky comment when you were lucky. Bets were made on his reactions and you soon became a part of it.

"What are we thinking today, Y/n?" started Jesper while walking you down to the club, "I'm betting on a smirk."

"A smirk?!" you asked surprised, "I'm not even sure Kaz can smile..."

"He can, i've seen him once. I thought i was dreaming but when i pointed it out, he glared at me. I knew it was real when he whacked me with his cane." stated Jesper, shivering at the memory. You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "Why do you do it, by the way?"

You took a moment to answer, suddenly serious again.

Truth was that all the innocent flirty comments you made −comments that started out as nothing more than a pastime− soon changed something in you. They were becoming truthful, and seeing Kaz answer with nothing but a dismissive comment was not easy. Trying to evoke feelings in him, inadvertently awoke feelings in you. Feelings for your boss that you shouldn't have had.

"Do i need a reason? It's fun, why do you talk to yourself in the mirror when you think no one's watching?" you retorted, raising eyebrows in genuine question.

"First of all, you shouldn't have seen that. Second of all, you should try it, you'd feel much better afterwards." he said simply and you tried restraining the smile that inevitably made its way on your face.

You entered the club which was, as always, in full swing. Several people were already ordering at the bar all kinds of alcohol while many others were betting all their possessions at the tables. Only the dregs knew that the real bets were being placed under the tables.

"Ten that he doesn't say anything." you heard someone whispering.

You were the newest of the dregs and of the crows, but you had already earned yourself a reputation.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out." another voice from somewhere in the club.

That one made you shiver. Would he really reach a point where he would fire you? You were a useful member, you wouldn't have made it into the crows if you weren't, but were you too much? Would he eventually get tired of you?

You walked over to your usual table with Jesper to meet Inej. Kaz wasn't there yet and you were really thinking of ending it there, no more flirting, no more jokes. This was your job, nothing else.

"What do you have for us, boss?" asked Jesper as he saw Kaz approaching.

He looked as he always does: black refined clothes clinging to him in an assortment of sharp edges, making him look even more direful to new merchants. He looked dashing the way a raging sea at night is; frightening, yet enticing. And that was wrong, you reminded yourself.

"It was a dead end." he said, sitting down.

He was in a gloomy mood, certainly for the news, and even though you knew you would have let down the whole club, you couldn't help but think of the comment you had heard moments ago.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out."

You loved working and simply being with the crows and the possibility of being kicked out was positively frightening.

But you couldn't simply stop. Everyone would have noticed something was off, he would have noticed. And then what? He would have known you liked him.

You had to do something big, something he couldn't simply ignore. You might have been out of the dregs for good, or maybe not.

Jesper kicked your shin under the table, making you focus back on the real word and motioning at all the dregs in the club, looking expectantly at you.

Kaz and Inej were now talking about something you weren't quite getting, their voices seemed distant as you tried to forget about everyone's eyes on you. You had made it a thousand times already, you could do it once more.

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Jesper and Kaz leaned back in his chair.

"I have some other leads we can try, but we'll have to split up." he started, the prospect of new kruge in his pockets making him incredibly more cheerful, "Jesper, Inej heard something about a particularly pricey painting in east stave, she'll bring you there and you'll learn more about it. And Y/n," he began and you perked up.

It was your moment to say something and get it over with.

"We'll go to west stave, i need your help with a lead there."

"Oh, you need me?" you said, your tone excessively teasing.

"That's what i said, but i can ask Inej." he replied drily.

You hesitated but you were not one to back down, especially not in front of one of Kaz's passive aggressive comments.

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at me longingly while i work, would you?" you said, pouting slightly.

You could have expected a retort, a glare, a not-so-nice hand gesture, but not him storming out of the club.

The entirety of the dregs was dumbfounded, Jesper and Inej, who never participated in the bets but still knew about them, were agape. You were mortified.

"Maybe," began Inej, "You should go talk to him."

"And meet my demise?" you asked.

"There must be a reason why he stormed out-"

"Yes, that he would have liked to kill me but blood stains are tough to remove." Jesper laughed but you were quite serious.

You got up either way, you had to explain yourself to him, you owed him at least that, and got out.

You found him not so far from the club's entrance, leaning on the railing over the river. You approached him unsurely.

"Kaz." he didn't turn around, so you got closer to the railing and noticed that his face, even in the night with the palest light of the street lamps, was scarlet. "I'm- i'm sorry, i will stop."

He remained silent.

"That is if you still want me in the crows, if not i'll leave tonight obviously." he turned to you, usually-perfect hair now slightly tousled, face still red and unreadable.

"Why wouldn't i?" he asked.

"I'm always teasing you and i figured you hated that. I will stop."

"What if i don't want you to?" your head perked up and he turned back towards the horizon, but a smirk crept up on his face. He didn't bother hiding it.

"So you can smile?" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like it when people point out things i obviously do, you should have noticed back there."

Heat rushed to your face and the smile he had plastered onto his face turned into a complacent one.

"It was real? You stare at me longingly?" you asked bewildered.

He looked at you once before turning to the horizon once more, "Obviously not."

But you could sense he was lying.

"Told you he could smile, Y/n!" shouted Jesper from behind you.

You both turned around to find Jesper and Inej surrounded by the dregs and a couple of other clients too, all jostling to get a better look of the scene.

"It'll be hard for him not to, i'm afraid." joined in Inej and you bit your lip to refrain the laughter. Kaz's annoyed expression didn't help you maintaining a straight face.

"I'm not paying you to stand here doing nothing, get back inside." he ordered.

Everyone turned back inside but Jesper and Inej.

"Boss, if Y/n now gets double, just know i'm great at flirting too." stated Jesper as Kaz made his way back to the club, you in tow.

He ignored him and whacked him with his cane. Again. Jesper had now yet another lovely cane story to add to his collection.

"You'll never let him forget it, won't you?" you whispered. Jesper looked at you like a child who had just entered candy land.

"Never."

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