#leather pen holders

[threesixtylife2024]

Buy leather pen holders online

In the modern world, where productivity and aesthetics often go hand-in-hand, having an organized and stylish workspace is essential. Whether you're working from home or in a corporate setting, a well-ordered desk can help boost creativity, enhance focus, and promote efficiency. One of the most functional and stylish additions to any workspace is a quality pen holder, and Threesixty's leather pen holders are designed to offer both sophistication and practicality. Here’s why these leather pen holders are an absolute must-have for anyone looking to elevate their workspace.

1. Craftsmanship that Speaks of Elegance and Durability

When it comes to workspace accessories, craftsmanship plays a vital role in ensuring both beauty and longevity. Threesixty’s leather pen holders are meticulously crafted from high-quality, ethically sourced leather, offering durability that lasts through years of use. Each piece is hand-finished by skilled artisans who understand the importance of attention to detail. The result is a luxurious pen holder that not only looks stunning but also stands the test of time.

Premium Leather: Leather has long been associated with luxury, and Threesixty’s use of genuine leather brings a touch of class to your desk. The leather develops a beautiful patina over time, adding character and uniqueness to each pen holder.

Handcrafted Excellence: Threesixty’s artisans pour passion into every product, ensuring that each pen holder is a masterpiece. With carefully stitched seams and flawless construction, these pen holders are designed to showcase the beauty of traditional craftsmanship.

2. A Statement Piece for Any Workspace

For those who value aesthetics as much as functionality, Threesixty’s leather pen holders are more than just desk accessories – they are statement pieces. The sleek and minimalistic design makes them a perfect fit for any workspace, whether it’s a contemporary office, a home studio, or a professional corporate setting.

Sophisticated Design: Available in neutral tones and classic finishes, the leather pen holders exude sophistication. Their sleek design adds a layer of elegance to your desk, helping create an organized and professional environment.

Complementing Your Style: These pen holders seamlessly blend into any interior design scheme. Whether your workspace is minimalist, modern, or traditionally styled, the luxurious leather adds an element of refined taste.

3. Organization Meets Efficiency

One of the most important aspects of a productive workspace is organization. A cluttered desk can lead to distractions, making it harder to focus on tasks at hand. Threesixty’s leather pen holders help keep your essential writing tools organized, within reach, and neatly displayed.

Declutter Your Desk: By providing a designated space for your pens, pencils, and markers, these leather pen holders reduce desk clutter. A tidy workspace not only looks better but also helps improve your efficiency and focus.

Accessibility and Convenience: Threesixty’s pen holders ensure that your writing instruments are always easily accessible. No more searching through drawers or shuffling through papers – simply grab a pen and get to work.

4. Perfect for Professionals and Creative Minds Alike

Whether you’re a corporate executive, a designer, an architect, or a writer, Threesixty’s leather pen holders are versatile enough to suit any profession. These accessories are as practical as they are luxurious, making them perfect for anyone who values both form and function.

For the Professional: Impress your colleagues or clients with a workspace that reflects your professionalism. A leather pen holder from Threesixty instantly elevates your desk and adds an element of style that is hard to overlook.

For the Creative: For creative professionals, organization is key to maintaining workflow. Threesixty’s pen holders not only keep your tools in place but also add a creative flair to your workspace, inspiring you to produce your best work.

5. Sustainable and Ethical Craftsmanship

In today’s eco-conscious world, sustainability is a key consideration when purchasing any product. Threesixty is committed to creating environmentally friendly products through ethical sourcing and sustainable manufacturing processes.

Ethically Sourced Leather: Threesixty prioritizes using leather that is ethically sourced, ensuring that its products are both luxurious and sustainable. This commitment to the environment and ethical practices makes Threesixty a responsible choice for consumers who care about the planet.

Eco-Friendly Packaging: Along with their commitment to sustainable products, Threesixty uses eco-friendly packaging to reduce waste and minimize their environmental impact.

Threesixty’s leather pen holders are more than just a workspace accessory – they are a must-have for anyone who values elegance, organization, and craftsmanship. Combining premium materials, sustainable practices, and a timeless design, these pen holders elevate any workspace into a stylish, clutter-free zone. Whether you’re a professional looking to impress or a creative seeking inspiration, Threesixty’s leather pen holders offer the perfect blend of luxury and functionality. With their ability to declutter, enhance focus, and add sophistication, these pen holders are a worthwhile investment for your workspace. Whether you’re looking to treat yourself or searching for the perfect gift, Threesixty’s leather pen holders are the ultimate solution for those who seek to organize in style. Below are some of the leather-based office accessories options available online for your reference.

Leather Based Office Accessories Options For Your Work Desk:

Below are some leather office accessories options for your work desk which you can use to make your work desk aesthetics look better :

Sterling Pencup Tan  :

Add a touch of sophistication and sustainability to your desk with Threesixty’s Recycled Leather Pen Holder in a classic tan shade. Crafted from high-quality, recycled leather, this eco-friendly pen holder is designed to keep your workspace organized while maintaining a minimalistic, stylish appeal. Its sleek design and warm tan color blend effortlessly with any office decor, making it the perfect addition to both home and professional settings. Durable and elegant, the recycled leather not only ensures long-lasting use but also supports sustainable practices. Ideal for holding pens, pencils, and other essentials, this pen holder helps you declutter in style while reflecting your commitment to the environment. Whether as a gift or a personal desk accessory, Threesixty’s Recycled Leather Pen Holder is the perfect blend of luxury, functionality, and eco-consciousness. If you are looking to purchase these leather bar pen holder then you can find them at buy online leather pen holder.

Modella Pen Holder Taupe  :

Enhance your workspace with the sleek and eco-friendly Recycled Leather Modella Pen Holder in a sophisticated taupe shade from Threesixty. Made from premium recycled leather, this pen holder is not only a stylish addition to any desk but also a sustainable choice for the eco-conscious professional. Its neutral taupe color effortlessly complements modern and classic interiors, while its functional design helps you organize your writing essentials with ease. Perfect for keeping your workspace clutter-free, this durable and elegant pen holder adds a touch of luxury to your everyday routine. Whether you're looking for a refined office accessory or a thoughtful gift, Threesixty’s Modella Pen Holder offers the ideal blend of form, function, and environmental responsibility. If you are looking to purchase these leather bar pen holder then you can find them at buy online leather pen holder.

Apart from the above leather bar cabinets, portable bars or bar trolleys and counters, there are many other options in linear bench, multipurpose tray set, buy croco nested table you can explore. If you are looking out for such multipurpose desk caddy, leather desk blotter pad then Three Sixty Life is a one-stop solution for such kinds of leather bar cabinets, furnitures, home, travel accessories. 

To Know More    https://www.threesixty.life/collections/leather-bar-cabinet-for-home

[serpentinesheldonserpentine]

File under: Stuff I never knew I needed until I got.

Or, having a friend who is a fellow stationery maven is so much fun!

[leatherkart]

Buy Leather Pen Holder Tan Online in Melbourne VIC

Keep your desk organized with this tan leather pen holder. Stylish and durable, it adds a touch of sophistication while keeping your pens, pencils, and accessories neatly stored and easily accessible. Perfect for any workspace.

[lapenpalclub]

A sweet and stunning leather folio, perfect for containing your letter-writing materials (stationery, pens, postage, and Letter Ledger) when you're on the go. Available at Present & Correct, purveyor of the finest desk essentials.

[krishnacreations]

Stylish Round Leather Pen Cup Holders from Kanpur: Perfect for Any Desk

The round leather pen cup holders from Kanpur are a chic and useful way to keep your workplace organised. Organise your workstation with these. Made from premium leather, these pencil holders are elegant and long-lasting, adding value to any home or business setting. Your pens, pencils, and other desk accessories will have plenty of room in their rounded form, keeping them conveniently accessible. These pencil holders, which come in a variety of colours and finishes, may go with any type of décor, from classic to modern. These leather pencil cup holders are a classy way to add some sophistication to your desk and organise your workspace, whether you're using them for yourself or as a kind gift.

[lilyprettyremy]

Polished and Productive: The It Girl Playbook for Organization. 💋☕️

- The Power of a Chic Planner 📄 Your planner is more than just dates and deadlines, it’s your daily sidekick. Opt for one that’s stylish and functional—think sleek leather covers, minimalist designs, and plenty of space for your goals. Use it to jot down tasks, appointments, and those brilliant ideas you get on the go.

- Create a Morning Routine That Sets the Tone 📋 Start your day with a quick, five-minute planning session. Outline your top three priorities, a to-do list, and a motivational quote. This mini habit keeps you focused and ready to conquer the day ahead.

- Declutter Your Digital Space 💻 Your phone and laptop should be as chic as your outfit. Organize your apps into folders, clear out your camera roll, and set a wallpaper that inspires you. Keep your inbox clean by unsubscribing from emails that no longer serve you—it’s like a digital detox.

- Capsule Wardrobe, but for Your Desk 🖋️ Keep your workspace minimalist and clutter-free. Think of it like a capsule wardrobe: only the essentials, but each item should be purposeful and aesthetically pleasing. A sleek pen holder, a chic planner, and a scented candle are all you really need.

- Time Blocking: Your Secret Weapon 🗓️ An It Girl knows that multitasking is out, and time blocking is in. Set specific times for studying, working, and breaks. This method keeps you in control of your schedule, so you can slay your to-do list without feeling overwhelmed.

- Organize Your Thoughts with Brain Dumps 📓 Feeling overwhelmed? Do a quick brain dump—grab a notebook and write down everything on your mind. It’s like a reset button for your brain, clearing the clutter so you can focus on what truly matters.

- Weekly Reset Ritual 🕊️ Dedicate one day a week to reset. This is your time to clean your space, plan for the week ahead, and refresh your mindset. Light a candle, put on a playlist, and make this ritual something you look forward to.

- Stay Inspired with a Vision Board Keep your goals front and center with a vision board. Whether digital or physical, fill it with images, quotes, and aesthetics that align with your dream life. It’s a daily reminder of what you’re working towards and why you’re putting in the effort.

[memorypassage]

handmade amethyst pendants, driftwood sculpture, satin-lined silk gloves, quilted cotton throw, hand-carved wooden figurine, brass match holder, cork-topped bottle opener, parchment scroll, porcelain ink bottle, pressed flower scrapbook, antique microfiche viewer, feathered quill pen, wax seals, driftwood mirror, cedarwood block, mugshot, light leak, bloodstain, porcelain trinket dish, marbled paper journal, hand-poured soy candles, carved wooden clogs, oxidized copper flask, vintage compass, embroidered hoop art, leather travel journal, silvered glass candleholder, alabaster figurines, charcoal drawing set, velvet-lined jewelry box, raw crystal cluster, brass pocket mirror, bone-handled knife, carved bone dice, wooden coasters with inlaid stones, hand-drawn tarot cards, macramé wall hanging, murano glass vase, faded linen apron, rustic iron wall hook, iron key with intricate design

[missbellie]

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Jealous Rockstar- Se-Mi

Synopsis: You're in a band with your brother Thanos, starting in a small garage and ending up on big stages finishing another concert of your tour. You ended up creating feelings by your brother's best friend, but who would have thought that a display of affection between you and your best friend would cause so much discomfort?

Pair: Se-Mi×F!Reader

Warning: jealousy.

Words: 10k

Style: Fanfic | Imagine | Headcanons

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"Okay, Lust & Leather, you have 30 minutes. Are you ready?" Our manager asks with a small paper holder and a pen in hands, and a headset with a small microphone. "Ask Thanos" You scoffed, nodding at the boy who was still arranging his purple hair with gel so it would stand up. Se-Mi, who was carelessly in her phone, looked over her shoulder and let out a laugh. "I think the back is too flat." Thanos glared at Se-Mi, and threw a powder brush that the boy had used earlier at the girl, who just dodged it and giggled. "Guys, please, there are 30 minutes left. Do you have everything ready?" The manager asked, looking around, doing a visual review in the box. Sae was strumming her bass, and Min-su was playing on an imaginary keyboard, reviewing the notes she was going to play.

"Hey, don't worry, everything is under control." You say, getting up from your armchair and going to the vanity, picking up the eyeliner. Your manager nods and says something into the microphone and leaves the dress room, leaving only Thanos' low complaints and Sae's bass to be heard. "Guys, should i put the red eyeliner or the black one?" Se-Mi opened her mouth to speak, but Sae was quicker. "The red one. It matches your skirt." Sae says, looking you up and down discreetly. You smile, and send the girl a little air kiss as a thank you. "Simply the best friend ever" You joke, already looking at your reflection in the mirror.

Your band was made up of your three best friends, and your older brother: Thanos. You two are nephews of one of the biggest rock stars, and let's just say you inherited the talent and temperament of a rock star.

Since you were little, you dreamed of jumping from country to country spreading your music. Your afternoons off from school and Saturdays were spent in your garage playing and singing whatever shit you had written. The idea of forming a band was never a priority at the time, but when Thanos' best friends, Se-Mi and Min-su and a friend named Sae from school got together, it was as if you couldn't let each other go anymore, and what was for two, now has three more elements that simply have a huge meaning for you. And of course a special element of short hair, nose and lip piercings and an uncountably confident attitude has won a special place in your heart, and you could swear that you were going to die every time the girl winked at you every time she defended you from your brother, or the subtle touches on the waist when the girl walked past you, and you were "getting in her way", or even the looks the girl gave you when she thought you weren't looking. She knew very well what she was doing to you, and that made you crazier every day. But other than that, the band always got along very well. Whenever you played together it was like your problems disappeared, and that was what made you enjoy being with them so much. What really led the band to the success they have now was a visit from your uncle to your house, who ended up seeing and hearing the band play.

He spoke to you and Thanos and asked if you wouldn't be interested in contacting a record label and perhaps recording a song. You two obviously didn't say there was no door that was opening, and that's when all the fun really began. Your first single was a success, leading you to open concerts for famous rock stars and festivals, until your first album came out and you were so successful that you are in this moment on tour, with just a dream and determination in hands. "Guys, 5 minutes, let's go." Your manager enters the dressing room suddenly and with a hurried voice. Everyone stood up and picked up their instruments, giving them to the security guards who would put them on stage. Se-Mi walked past you, subtly touching your waist, which made you let out a small laugh discreetly and follow the girl's path. You took a deep breath and fixed your hair every 5 seconds, and Sae noticed this and took your hand and looked at you with a small smile. "Relax, everything will be fine, you know it." The girl whispered and you nodded, calming down a little and leaning your head on the girl's shoulder, but feeling your back being pierced with a piercing gaze. "Okay guys, You're going to enter in 3...2..1! Go!" Your manager did the countdown and opened the curtain and it was as if your body was now working on automatic. When you saw how many people were actually there, your heart beat faster than you could have imagined. But you focused on smiling and grabbing your guitar and playing it right. "Are you ready?" Thanos shouted into the microphone, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

You smiled, seeing the amount of people jumping and screaming for us. You adjusted your in-ears, and as soon as you heard Se-Mi's drumsticks hitting each other for the third time, your body went into auto mode. Your fingers moved perfectly through the guitar strings, forming the notes perfectly. Your head moved to the rhythm of the music, and you could see in your field of vision a purple head walking around the stage jumping and singing. When you raised your head along with your gaze, the camera man was pointing the camera at you. You smiled and blinked looking directly at the camera. When the camera man moved, you didn't wipe the smile off your face, continuing to play your guitar perfectly. You felt watched, looking in Sae's direction, noticing the girl staring at you. You could see from the other side of the stage, the girl approaching and the word "battle?"

You left a laugh escape your lips and nod as you approached the girl. Now you and Sae were in the middle of the stage facing each other looking into each other's eyes as you two were having a guitar battle. You played with more desire, leaving a confident smile on your face, while Sae had a look fun and a smug smile. You both leaned your bodies forward at the same time, and the girl smiled and both played with more intensity, holding on as long as possible the tiredness of your hand. The last note was played with precision finishing both at the same time. Sae smiled, breathless, and you, who were not in a better state, reciprocated the girl, who rubbed her nose against yours in a caring way. You let out a laugh and walked away from the girl, pushing your hair out of your face and looking out at the audience as they screamed and jumped. Thanos looked over his shoulder at you, and you could see the proud smile and the "we did it" in his eyes. You smiled and winked at him who quickly turned away.

As soon as the concert was over and you were off the stage, your brother hugged you, messing up your hair. "Okay, that's enough, you've overdone it here." The boy let out a laugh and let go of you, running off to pester Min-su, who was talking to Sae. Your gaze turned to Se-mi who had a bottle of water in her hands, a towel over her shoulder and her hair slightly wet and stuck to her forehead. You smiled and walked over to the girl. "This one was very good, don't you think?" You ask, and the girl looks at you with an annoyed look. "Yeah. But I don't know... Sae must have liked it more than me." You frowned at the girl's bitter tone and opened your mouth to respond but the girl simply quickened her pace. "She's jealous. Of your...scene with Sae" Min-su spoke, walking beside you. You looked at the boy who just smiled shyly when he noticed your gaze. "I'll take care of that."

After each of you took a shower in your private dressing rooms, you headed to the hotel where you were staying, just taking the opportunity to have a drink and chat before going to sleep, and Thanos obviously took the opportunity to smoke a little, not giving a damn about your complaints when the boy smoked. "Yeah... The conversation is great, but... I'm going now. A drummer needs her princess sleep." Se-Mi said, yawning, and getting up from the armchair she was sitting in, stretching. Everyone said goodbye to the girl in unison, and the girl just waved, making her way to the door. As soon as the girl passed by you, you could smell her masculine scent, which gave you a slight shiver. You let a few minutes pass until you also left, heading to the girl's room. You knocked three times with some force and anxiety, wondering how she would open the door "What do you want? What's with that face?" The girl woke you from your thoughts, opening the door for you. You looked at the girl, seeing her hair still very well done and her eyes wide open, and her clothes still on, a sign that she was wide awake. "Can I come in?" You asked, pointing to the room. The girl made room for you to enter, watching you step onto the carpeted floor carefully and sit down on her bed. "Can you explain to me what that was when we left the concert?" You ask, crossing your arms and watching the girl roll her eyes and huff in irritation. "I don't want to talk about it." She says, looking away.

You stand up and stand face to face with her. "Don't you have the courage to admit that you were jealous?" You ask, and the girl continued to look away. "I mean, you have the nerve to tease me in public or in front of my brother but not admit that you were jealous of a simple display of affection from Sae?" The girl closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fuck you." Se-Mi murmurs, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. You let out a small laugh. "You're unbelievable Se-Mi. Seriously!" You exclaim, getting ready to leave. "Fine. You want me to admit it? Admit that I hate it when she compliments you? Or when she has that shitty affectionate attitude towards you? When she touches your face?" Your gaze had already met the girl's at the time when she made her confession. "Yes, thanks you! Now tell me..." You say, coming closer again "If we are nothing, why are you jealous...? Tell me!" The girl rolls her eyes and pins you against the wall, grabbing your jaw. "It doesn't matter what we are, it matters that I got here first and you're mine." The girl says through gritted teeth against your lips. You couldn't hide your little smile as butterflies flew through your belly. "You're a jealous rockstar" You joked, looking her up and down. The girl rolled her eyes and let out a laugh. "Shut up, you're the same or worse." She says, releasing your jaw. "Oh, you can be sure of that."

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Omg i liked this one.

But that's it babies, hope you liked it too

Xoxo!

[thebibliophilevigilante]

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower

[vigilante-3073]

Law & Medicine

James Wilson x Female Attorney Reader

Part 2

Summary: House finally meets Wilson's fiancée. He quickly learns that she is not someone to mess around with.

TW: Dating, lying, mentions of money/debts, House being House.

House looked up from his computer screen when he heard a soft knock on the glass door to his office. A young woman stood in the doorway with a briefcase in her hand.

"Hello, you must be Doctor House. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Y/N greeted politely. She made her way over, holding her hand out for him to shake.

House took her hand, giving it a gentle shake before releasing it, "I'm glad that I could get ahold of you. I'm in a pretty bad spot right now and I've heard that you're the best," House said.

Y/N nodded, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk, "Separations can be difficult and they definitely bring out the worst in people," Y/N replied.

House nodded, "I'm having a pretty difficult separation and my ex-wife wants to take everything I have. She's been a stay at home mom for our six kids and I will do anything to keep those sweet little rugrats," House said with a smile.

Y/N nodded, "A family man will definitely appeal to the court. You also have the advantage of making quite a bit of money because of your position. You're definitely going to have to pay some alimony, but I'll do what I can to keep it reasonable," She said, pulling out a leather portfolio and flipping it open. Y/N pulled a pen from the holder before beginning to jot down notes on her notepad.

"I just- I thought we would be together forever. Our marriage started out all hot and heavy before things fell apart. W-we haven't even made love for almost two years. It's just been so hard," House said shakily, sniffling as he struggled to contain his ficticious emotions.

"To me, you seem like a sweet man who's going through a hard time, Doctor. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you keep your kids. Can you tell me their names and ages?" Y/N asked, preparing her pen.

House hesitated, "Of course. There's Ben, he's ten, James, he's twelve, Barbara, she's three, Louis, he's two and our sweet little Fernando. He's three and it's also up for debate if he's actually mine," House said.

"What about the sixth child?" Y/N asked.

"Oh, that's David, he's nine," House replied easily.

"Ben and Barbara are twins, I assume?" Y/N questioned, looking down at her notepad.

"Yeah, it was a hard pregnancy for the wife," House said.

Y/N set her pen down, "You said Ben was ten and Barbara was three," She said, closing her folder.

"Yes, lots of kids and hard to remember," House said.

"Listen, Doctor House, I am not an idiot like you'd clearly like to think," Y/N stated.

House narrowed his eyes, "Wilson told you, didn't he?" House questioned.

"He did... He loves me and didn't want me walking into something that I was unequipped to handle, but he doesn't know the kind of people that I deal with on a daily basis. I can smell bullshit from a mile away and you absolutely reek of it, honey," Y/N said.

She tucked her portfolio into her bag and zipped it up before sitting back in her seat.

"So, do you have any real questions to ask me or would you like to continue spinning bullshit about your fictional family?" Y/N questioned.

House watched her for a second, "I like you," He said.

Y/N smirked, "Glad to hear it," She replied.

...

Y/N was sitting at the table, typing away on her laptop as she replied to various emails from coworkers and clients. Wilson made his way over to the dinner table, setting two plates of pasta down before taking a seat across from his fiancée.

Y/N closed her laptop and pushed it aside, "Thank you for cooking tonight, honey," She said, picking up her fork.

"Of course, it's the least I could do since you had to deal with House," Wilson said.

Y/N smirked, "He's not as clever as he thinks he is. I let him talk for enough time that I can bill him so I doubt he'll try anything like that with me again," She said.

"You sent him a bill?" Wilson smiled, Y/N nodded.

"You're amazing," He said.

"Hopefully he can afford it. Apparently he has six kids and a crazy ex," Y/N smiled.

Wilson laughed, "House seriously made up a whole story to try and mess with you?" He asked.

"Yeah, he's definitely got a screw loose or something. He folded immediately when I called him out on it though," Y/N said, taking a bite of her food.

Wilson watched her with a soft smile, she looked up at him curiously when she realized that he was watching her.

"What?" She questioned.

"He came to talk to me after you left," Wilson said.

"What did he say?" Y/N asked, taking a sip of her water.

"He likes you... He said that he thinks you're good for me," Wilson said.

"Is that a cause for concern?" Y/N questioned, setting her glass down on the table.

"Well, I don't know because he's never liked any of my significant others before you," Wilson said.

"Seriously?" Y/N asked, her tone suddenly becoming serious.

"Yeah," Wilson said.

She sat back in her seat, "I thought he was just a manipulative ass," Y/N stated.

"Well, most of the time he is. Somewhere in all of his craziness, he cares about me and that was his way of showing it," Wilson said.

"You're kind of a package deal then, huh?" Y/N asked.

"I think so... Does that bother you?" He asked.

Y/N shrugged, "I don't mind. As long as he doesn't think he gets free legal consultations because he seems like a guy who gets into some shady stuff," She said, taking another bite of her pasta.

"How did you know that?" Wilson asked.

"It's my job, honey. He also seems like the type to borrow thousands and never pay his debts," Y/N replied.

Wilson stared at her in shock, "It's like you're a wizard," He mumbled.

Y/N set down her fork, "How much does he owe you?" She asked.

"He bought a motorcycle," Wilson admitted softly.

Y/N grabbed her phone and stood up from the table, "Where are you going?" Wilson questioned.

"I just need to make a quick call. I'll be right back," Y/N said.

She made her way out of the room, Wilson watched the clock closely as he waited for her to return. Y/N came back to the table after less than five minutes and sat back down, she picked up her fork and returned to her meal.

"What did you do?" Wilson questioned.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Y/N replied simply.

...

Wilson read through the morning paper as he sipped on a coffee and ate a bagel. The hospital cafeteria was busy, the quiet chatter of staff and visitors filling the room.

Wilson kept his eyes focused on the story he was reading as someone sat down across from him. Wilson set aside his paper when he finished reading, looking up to find House sitting across from him.

"Is everything okay?" Wilson asked, House looked around before pulling an envelope from his blazer.

House set the envelope down and slid it across the table to his friend. Wilson raised an eyebrow before he picked up the envelope and opened it, eyes widening when he saw the stack of hundred dollar bills inside.

"All the money I owe you and your fiancée," House said.

"What? Are you serious?" Wilson questioned, House nodded.

"What did she say to you?" Wilson asked curiously.

House shifted uncomfortably, "Doesn't matter," He muttered, grabbing the other half of Wilson's bagel.

Wilson watched him as he took a bite, avoiding eye contact with his friend as he chewed.

"I know she called you last night... What did she say?" Wilson pressed.

House shook his head, "Don't mess with that woman," He stated.

House tossed the bagel back onto Wilson's plate before standing up from the table. He left without another word and Wilson wasn't even sure what to make of the interaction.

Wilson couldn't help but wonder what Y/N said to make House fork over almost $10,000 without any argument. He went through his day as usual and stepped out during his lunch break to deposit the funds into his bank account.

Wilson stopped to purchase a bottle of champagne on his way home before he began cooking Y/N's favorite meal. Wilson stepped out of the kitchen when he heard her key slide into the lock on the apartment door.

Y/N stepped into the apartment, setting her briefcase down and taking off her coat. Y/N took off her heels with a relieved sigh before looking up at her fiancé.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned nervously.

"He paid me... House paid me for everything and he even paid you back too," Wilson said.

"Oh, good," Y/N said.

"Very very good. You are amazing and I love you so much," Wilson said, taking her hands in his.

"I love you too, baby," She smiled.

Wilson leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss, "Why don't you get changed into something comfy because I may or may not have some bubbly for us to share," Wilson offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I didn't even do that much for you," Y/N laughed softly.

"You did more in one five minute phone call than I have managed in five years," Wilson said.

"You're lucky that I don't mind being spoiled," Y/N teased, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

Wilson watched her walk into the bedroom with a smile. He had no doubt that she was the one for him and he was excited to make it official.

It was also nice to finally have someone who would stand up for him, even if he would never find out how she managed to get House to cough up $10,000.

Maybe he didn't need to know.

[hunterthecharmer]

Unexpected - Part 4

Summary: You work for an events company and end up being assigned as a talent handler for a 2 week long convention. Your co-worker ends up assigned to Glen Powell, but you catch his eye. Can you remain professional and keep him from knowing you're actually a pretty big fan of his?

Authors note: we are finally off to the races with the Glen content. It’s only uphill from here 💙 inserting these pics because they’re my inspo for his look. Let me know your thoughts!!

You awaken to the sound of your phone buzzing loudly on your wooden nightstand. You groan as you reach toward the glowing screen, eyes burning as you flip it over to see who’s blowing you up. It’s 5am, and Savannah’s contact photo fills your screen. You hit the answer button, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. “Hello?” you croak, voice hoarse.

“Oh, thank goodness you answered! I've been trying to get a hold of you for the last forty-five minutes. I still feel like crap, is there any way you can take over Glen’s schedule today? I already texted our lead about it, and Dylan doesn’t have any overlaps so you’re good there.”

You blink slowly as you try to process her words. “Sure, Sav. I’m sorry you’re sick.” You finally reply. “When do I need to pick him up?” Savannah coughs on the other end of the line. “His first event is at 8! Thank you so much, I owe you big. I’m gonna go back to sleep.” She hangs up, and you fall back into the mattress.

---

“I’m gonna need 3 coffees this morning, thanks.” You hurriedly grab the drink carrier back to your golf cart before speeding over to Dylan’s cabin. “Morning Mr. O’Brien!” You grin at him, pointing excitedly to the coffee cups. “Heck yeah! Let’s do this.” He takes the cup from your hands and slides next to you. “Dylan, I have to cover for Savannah today with Glen so it might get a little hectic, but don’t worry. I promise you’re my priority, and you won’t be late to anything!” You smile at him as you drive toward his trailer, putting your sunglasses on with your free hand. Dylan sips his coffee, “No problem.”

Once he’s dropped off, you head to pick up Glen. You pull in front of his cabin and beep the horn a few times to let him know you’re ready. He emerges moments later in jeans and a blue argyle sweater, hair perfectly styled. His leather watch catches the sun as he bounces down the stairs, face lighting up when he spots the coffee in the cup holder. “You’re my hero!” You giggle before reversing the cart. “Bad nights sleep, Mr. Powell?”

“Just a lot on my mind.” He answers quickly, only glancing over to you out of the corner of his eye as he drinks his coffee. He then waves a hand in front of you both, continuing. “Woah woah woah, Savannah does NOT call me that. Does Dylan ask to be addressed that way? Cuz’ I will give him so much shit for that later.” You burst into laughter together, covering your mouth in embarrassment. “Look, we are technically supposed to address all talent this way. Unless they specify otherwise that is.” You smile to yourself as you drive.

“Well I am definitely specifying. You’re like, what, only a few years younger than me right? I’m just Glen. K?” You nod. “Understood.” You let silence fill the air as you continue to drive towards his trailer, a couple light giggles escaping from both of you.

“Also, I know you’ve heard already but I will be covering Savannah today, so anything you need, just text or call me. Okay?” you look at him and he shoots you a thumbs up, downing the rest of his coffee before you arrive at the trailer.

“Have a good class!” You encourage, and Glen spins around to wink at you while clicking his pen, journal tucked under his arm. You wait until he gets through the door before you drive away to check on your friend.

….

“Long story short, I’m feeling much better.” Savannah sighs as she cuddles further into her blanket, the tv lightly playing in the background of her room. “I’m glad to hear it. You think you’ll be back in business tomorrow? It’s getting a little difficult with Glen. Not in a bad way, it’s just that he is being really sweet and I…I’m trying really hard to be professional. But you know how I feel about him!” You exclaim in a hushed tone, flopping backward onto the comforter. Savannah nods knowingly. “Just keep being yourself, you can’t help how he acts or feels toward you. You just can’t forget that you have a job to do.” You listen to her, twisting your hair around your finger as your stomach drops. You spend a little more time with her before heading back to pick up the boys and continue to drop them off for their events the rest of the day. Fortunately for you, they both had events close in proximity to each other so you didn’t have to drive either of them far, which left less time for you and Glen to talk. By the time the day was over, you happily slipped off your shoes and took a shower longer than normal to release some of your nerves. Glen was a celebrity, and naturally charming. No way would he ever actually flirt with you, right? You’re a nobody. Just a normal girl who happens to be working an event he booked to help him further his career. His very real, very serious Hollywood career.

You allow the warm water to cascade down your back for a while before stepping out of the shower to slide into bed, flipping on the TV to watch a movie and enjoy your pizza the craft service sent you to your cabin with.

As the hours pass, a storm forms outside and you welcome the thunder with the occasional flashes of lightning making the room glow. It eventually lulls you to sleep until you’re ripped from your dream to the sound of your work phone buzzing from across the room. You instantly snap up in bed at the different ring tone, your brain telling you this is important. You lunge toward the phone and look at the caller ID - it’s Glen’s assistant. Confused, you answer the call.

“Hello, this is..” A female’s voice instantly begins speaking as soon as they have confirmation someone is on the other end of the phone. You listen closely, rubbing your eyes as you realize it’s 3 in the morning. You learn that Glen’s mom has been trying to get ahold of him all night but he hasn’t heard her calls; she and his dad were out riding their electric bikes that evening when his dad accidentally wrecked it, hurting his back pretty badly. They had been out and about downtown so his mom didn’t want Glen to hear it from a news outlet before he could hear it from them and know his dad was going to be fine. You feel your heartbeat quicken as you assure her that you’d let Glen know as soon as possible so he could give his family a call, since they were all still at the hospital with his dad. You hang up with her and start slipping on your tennis shoes and rain jacket, grimacing at your air dried hair in the mirror and deciding to throw on your hat to hide it. The rain was still coming down heavily outside, so you’d need to be quick. You rush out the door and onto your golf cart, instantly missing having a car here on the property. You make it to Glen’s cabin in no time, struggling to see through all the rain. The claps of thunder startle you as you put the cart in park and run to the front door. You knock loudly on the door, calling Glen’s name as you do. “Glen, Glen! Wake up! Please!” You bang on the door about 6 more times before the door finally swings open, a very tired and confused Glen standing before you in his sweatpants. “What’s going on?” His voice is raspy as he steps aside for you to come in, drenched from the storm. You stand near the front door and pull your phone out of your jacket pocket. “I’m sorry to wake you, but your assistant called me. Your dad’s in the hospital for a back injury. He and-” Glen cuts you off, eyes widening. “Oh my gosh, is he ok? When did this happen?” He paces over to his phone on the nightstand, raking a hand through his hair as he sees all his missed call notifications. “He’s okay, I promise! He had an accident on the electric bike with your mom downtown. She wanted to tell you before you heard it elsewhere.” You finally get out all the details, watching as he nods along while dialing his mom. They speak for a few moments before hanging up. You tried not to eavesdrop but you could hear most of what was said. They didn’t want him to fly all the way back to Texas, there was nothing he could do there that he couldn’t do here. They would discharge his dad in a day or so, it wasn’t like it was life threatening. Glen sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes wandering over to yours. “Thank you for driving over here to tell me, I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.” He shoots you a sleepy smile, the pain he is trying to hide all over his face. It hurts you to see him so upset, so worried.

“Of course, I’m just glad I heard my phone and that everyone’s okay.” You yawn, awkwardly shifting your weight as you adjust your hat on your head, irritated at how drenched you were. You were shivering in his doorway, texting his assistant to let her know you had told Glen and all was well.

“Hold on, is that a Longhorns hat?” He asks in disbelief, slipping a t- shirt over his head before suddenly standing to walk over to you. In one quick motion, you cover the logo with one hand and pull your hood over your head, body turning toward the doorknob. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, it is. Small world, right? Anyways, I’ll let you get back to sleep.” You stumble over your words, knowing full well that he could never know the real reason as to why you own the hat on top of your head. Never.

“You were already awesome, but this just tipped you over the edge.” He smirks playfully at you, his warm hands reaching for your cap and carefully lifting it off of you. He inspects the inside, giving a nod of approval before putting it back on you. “Yep, that’s official alright.”

Grinning at each other, you twist the doorknob and step backward, the cold rush of the rain and winds blowing the hood off your head. “What’re you doing?” Glen shouts, quickly slamming the door shut and tugging your wrist towards him, and back towards his warm room. “It’s nasty out there, no way I’m letting you drive back yet. You can hang here until it clears up.” Glen throws the blanket draped over the couch in front of the fireplace over to you, and you catch it with a huff. “No, Glen..do you understand that I will lose my job if anyone sees me leaving here at this hour? It’s extremely unprofessional.” You shake your head while draping the blanket over your shoulders, thankful for its warmth. Glen leans against the tufted sofa, crossing his arms as he purses his lips. “You came here to give me a message about my family. I don’t care who I have to explain that to. Now come over here and let’s get you warmed up.” His tone is quiet now, dripping with exhaustion and care. He was not going to take no for an answer.

Hanging your head in defeat, you kick off your shoes and jacket before heading over to join him by the fireplace. He flips a switch on the electric fireplace, the heat quickly warming your bones. You watch the flames dance along the screen, unusually grateful that it wasn’t a real fireplace at this moment because of the time it might take to get it going. Glen sighs as if he is having the same thought before taking a seat on the couch. He drapes an arm over the backside of it, as if to invite you to sit next to him. You opt for the floor, planting yourself on the soft shag rug. He clicks his tongue with a low hum before sliding down to join you, nudging your shoulder.

“I don’t bite, you know.” He began, before gently removing your hat from your head, your hands reaching up to smooth out your frizzy hair immediately. Glen slowly stops you, his own hands covering yours to pull them down. You stare at each other for a moment, as you wait for him to say something else. When he doesn’t, you speak up to fill the quiet space. “Thanks for letting me wait out the storm. I hope it clears up befo-“

Glen cuts you off.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

His blunt confession rattles you, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights. Had you been that obvious?

Your mouth goes dry, mind swirling with what to say to him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” You lie, your expression one of stone while your tone betrays you. You so desperately wished that you could be more coy at this moment.

His sage eyes sparkle at you, his body shifting so that he’s fully facing you now, hugging his knees to his chest as he watches you go still.

“It’s 4am, you’re off the clock and I’m calling your bluff.” his lips curl into another smirk. Your eyes search his face, the glow of the flames making him look even better than normal. You make a mental note of his disheveled hair, not able to stop yourself from running your fingers through it. He exhales deeply, enjoying your touch. You search his face for any sign that he wants you to stop, but instead his eyes begin to close, head leaning forward into your touch. A few long, quiet moments pass, the storm outside and crackle of the fireplace filling the room.

“You didn’t deny it.” He finally whispers, his voice so relaxed you almost can’t hear him.

You slowly halt scratching his head, your hands moving to either side of his face to gently trace his features. He smiles softly at you, and it makes your heart leap.

His hands rest on your ankles as you face him, legs criss crossed. The contact makes your breath quicken, thankful they aren’t any higher.

“Alright, fine. Yes, I may or may not….” you pause, carefully choosing your words, “find you attractive.”

His eyes widen, hands suddenly raising to grip your upper arms before swiftly pushing you backwards to pin you onto the floor. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite catch that. I’m gonna need you to speak a little louder for me.” His tone is low, and extremely flirty. You giggle beneath him, his boyish expressions making you dizzy. You’ve already admitted the words to him, no use in trying to be bashful now.

“I find you attractive, okay?!” You admit, covering your face with your hands to hide your burning cheeks.

“Oh no no no, uh uh. Don’t go acting all shy on me now. Look at me.” He laughs with you, prying your hands away. He lowers his nose to graze yours, a warm hand pushing your hair back from your forehead.

You bring your eyes up to meet his gaze, the warmth of his breath and smell of his cologne enveloping you.

“Hi.” You whisper softly, the last few days of interacting with him feeling like a strange lead up to a moment like this. It felt like something out of a movie. Your mind was screaming at you to get up off the floor and drive back to your cabin for the sake of your job and being professional, while your body was paralyzed in place.

“Hi.” He softly exhales back to you, brushing noses with you again before kissing your cheek. His soft lips, the warmth of the fireplace and the wind blowing outside made you sink into the floor beneath him. How many times had you dreamt of a moment like this? And then for it to happen with your celebrity crush?

Lifting his head to get a better look at you, his eyes search your face for a reaction. You can feel your cheeks getting tight at how hard you’re smiling, heart beating out of your chest. You feel your lips part, eyes dropping back to his lips. Feeling brave and overtaken by your attraction to him you lace your hands behind his neck to pull him back down to you, lips crashing together. The kiss is soft but firm, your fingers drifting to find his hair before he deepens the kiss. A strong arm loops under your back, pressing his body closer to yours. You hum against his lips, tasting his minty mouthwash as his tongue intertwines with yours.

His other hand reaches up to hold the side of your face, his thumb gently circling your cheek, right near the edge of your lips.

Finally breaking apart for air, Glen lifts you from the soft rug and brings you to your feet, placing your arms over his shoulders to be back around his neck as his arms snake around your waist to pull you into him, his lips finding yours again. He guides you backwards towards his bed, your knees bending at the side of the bed frame to sit on the edge mattress while you both continue to kiss each other’s faces off. When his hands start to glide underneath your oversized sleep shirt, you pull back from him, eyebrows raised. “We should stop.” You pant, voice quiet. He pouts at you, fingertips running up and down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to gauge if the rain had let up. It sounded like it had, to your dismay. You were also trying to soak in this moment because chances were it wasn’t ever going to happen again. When you open your eyes, his are now closed as he continues to trace circles on your back. You run a hand through his hair to put it semi back to normal, gently tapping the side of his face to wake him up. “Hey, you should get some sleep. I think it’s slowing down out there so I’m gonna head back.”

His eyes shoot open, and you feel a tinge of guilt as you note the redness in them now. Yours probably matched. You place both palms on his chest to wiggle your body away from him off the bed, making a beeline for your shoes and jacket near the door. It was taking every last bit of willpower not to turn around to tackle him back onto the bed, your body already missing his touch. He follows you to the door, handing your hat back to you with a smirk. “Thanks again.”

Your brows knit together in confusion as you take the hat from him, pulling your hood over your head and feeling around in your pocket for the cart key. “For..?” Your voice trails off. Glen laughs, “For the update on my dad. And for the kisses.” He winks at you, and your cheeks flush. Unsure of what to say, you step closer to him, his body leaning down to you in response. Getting on your tiptoes, you quickly cover his face in kisses, the child-like giggle that escapes his lips making your heart swell. You purposely leave his lips out of it, kissing his cheeks one last time before backing away from him. He frowns suddenly, shaking his head.

“Why’re you running away?” His tone is still playful, making it harder for you to leave. You felt like you were having an out of body experience, shocked at your bravery to kiss his face like you’d daydreamed of doing while watching his films, running your hands through his sandy blonde hair and pressing your bodies together. You needed to let him sleep, and you needed to rest too.

“I’m not, we just need to be able to function tomorrow. Goodnight, Glen.” You smile sweetly at him, shimmying your long coat sleeve off to expose your left hand to give him a tiny goodbye wave. He groans, throwing his head back before holding the door for you, watching as you drive away.

[cwritesfiction]

tagged by @byjillianmaria to list some trinkets in my room for you all to choose from. I focused on my writing desk/area, so...

If you're interested in distributing trinkets: @space-writes @incandescent-creativity @blradley

[projectbluearcadia]

[P1] Heart of Blue

Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

[ Scenario: After a sweet and short date, Lucifer gets a l'il greedy and wants to spend some more time with you. With cuddles straight into caring sex, Lucifer wants to savor every moment.

Part 1 is fluff; Part 2 is fluffy smut. ]

I am publishing before my self-imposed due date for once, but it comes at the price of two parts. Here's to all the vanilla Luci-lovers <3.

Wordcount - 1178

“I was just thinking about getting...” What—Where the hell did he go?! you think as you look for Lucifer through mounds of antiques. Bizarre china, paintings, books, borderline ancient tools, rusty plant holders, old clothes, and no sign of your (stupid) boyfriend. He was right next to me! you think, annoyed as you wander back through the way you came. 

“Look at this,” you hear him say, before you feel his hand around yours—half-shocking you to death—before he drags you in the direction he's been looking. A wall full of pans. What in the ninth hell is he… “It’s Dead Steel,” he explained, hefting one such pan off the wall before he placed it into your hands and nearly made you drop to the floor in the process. He laughed softly as you struggled to hold it, shaking as you carefully set it down onto a dangerously creaking floorboard. 

“And… And why is that so fascinating?” you ask, trying to conceal your exasperation with him, and he turned to look at you, bemused. 

“It’s Dead. Steel,” he said, again, before he effortlessly swung the pan up by the handle and inspected the engraving. “The Devildom long fazed out of using it because the material is highly resistant to being enchanted. It’s heavy, it’s damn near indestructible, great for hitting people…” He flipped the pan over, fascinated as his burgundy eyes roved over it. “I haven’t seen one of these in thousands of years.” His eyes widened at the dark red, nearly invisible squiggle on the bottom. “Wait, this is my pan. I was wondering where that went.” 

“...you really are an old man,” you can’t help but snicker. To think he was so old that his possessions were ending up in antique shops that sold only items that were at least 500 years old.

“Oh, shut up, you,” he grunted. “You aren’t even the sperm cell that squirted from your father’s penis.” You find yourself furtively looking around while you cringe, hoping to low hell that no one heard that. 

“Lucifer!” you scold, and he chuckled. 

“Aw, does this old man embarrass you?” 

“Yes, but more importantly, please do not talk about my father’s genitals.” Some things are better left to the imagination, although Lucifer hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that concept yet. 

“You started it,” he hums, apparently pleased with your reaction nevertheless as he takes the 25 kilo pan in one hand. Child. He is actually a child, you complain in your head as he swings the handle on one finger. I guess he’s buying it. And how is he doing that? “MC, if you don’t pick something, I will buy something for bed,” he teases, picking up a cat o’ nine tails and shaking it tauntingly at you. 

“Now that you mention it, I was very interested in something before you ran off, thank you,” you answer shortly before you take him by the hand instead, dragging him back to where you had been roaming before he went and disappeared, shoving him in front of a small, glass case. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and his leather-gloved hands rest lightly on the case. 

“You really will melt my heart one of these days, MC,” he says solemnly, confusing you as you look back at the case. It’s just a pair of fountain-tipped pens that were completely unremarkable aside from what appeared to be two different snakes wrapped around them. One was the color of the ocean, and the other was the color of the sky. It wasn’t one ocean or one sky, because the snakes’ scales had been painted one by one into a satisfying gradient. 

“Is it because they’re cheap?” you guess, and Lucifer shakes his head as he takes the glass case with a faint yet bittersweet smile. Reminiscing, but it’s not the same. Did I find a precious memory by accident?

“No, not at all,” he replies as he takes the case with him, still faintly smiling as he brings both items to the register, paying for them both (He got a discount just because of who he was. Bastard).

“So are you going to tell me?” you prod as he hands the case to you, turning the pan in his hand as he walks in the direction of home with you. “Did you own these too?” He inclines his head. So he just bought back two old possessions. I’m almost surprised he didn’t demand that he receive them for free. 

“I gave them to Lilith as a gift,” he replies wistfully. O-Oh. Wow. Out of all the pens in the world I could pick… “I never really liked the man whom she would eventually call her husband, but I wasn’t stubborn enough that I couldn’t see how happy he made her. I gave them to her so that they could write to each other discreetly.” His tenderness, his kindness and his rich smile in that moment make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this prideful little bugger. 

“So… it’s a fond memory,” you clarify, and Lucifer softly chuckles behind his fist, his eyebrows scrunching together as he walks next to you, his step slow as if he never wanted to stop walking with you. 

“Fond, stupid, sweet… she actually argued with me about it because she said I’d be punished too if she was caught using them. I ended up yelling at her.” Lucifer smiles a little bitterly. “I would have rathered that God held me responsible as her older brother…?” Lucifer glances at you in confusion as you shake your arm in pain. “MC, did you just hit me?” 

“Really need to make it a habit to use magic to protect myself when I do that,” you grumble to yourself, rubbing your elbow, which had made contact with his oblique. Like elbowing a wall, Jesus... “Yes, I hit you. You’re doing the thing again. What’d we talk about?” 

“‘You are not at fault for your sister’s death, you do not deserve to be punished for your sister’s death, and no one blames you for your sister’s death. God can eat shit and go fuck himself,’” Lucifer parroted, word-for-word.

I’m happy you remember, but you really should be saying that from a first-person perspective... “I’m sorry. I know she’d hit me herself just the same. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Lucifer shifted the pan to his other hand and offered his now-free one to you. You squeeze the glass case in your left before you lay your right in his, smiling with contentment as he looks at you fondly. “All the more reason to prize the things I have.” He gave you a surprise kiss on your temple as he leaned closer to you. “I have a meeting with Diavolo in half an hour, but…”

“But?” you prompt, and he rests his head against yours. 

“If… you’re not busy, then we’re cuddling up somewhere.” 

“Big softie,” you accuse lightly before you kiss his cheek. ‘If you’re not busy’; what a load of nonsense, you think with a smile. He already knows I don’t have anything to do today. I guess Diavolo’s just going to have to wait…

[k-nayee]

CHAPTER 31. IN HIS FATHER'S WAKE

❝Not every father gets a chance to start his son off in his own footsteps.❞

Warrior M.List | Act Ⅳ

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˚＊˚✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ˚＊˚

The sea stretched endlessly around him, its inky waves reflecting the faint glimmer of starlight overhead.

The boat was small, barely large enough to accommodate his frame, yet it cut through the dark waters with purpose. Rhythmic splash of oars dipping into the water was the only sound in the vast expanse as wind thread through the boy’s tangled hair.

Or rather the young man’s.

Though many still called him a boy, he had left childhood behind long ago on the rugged cliffs of Scyros. The years had honed and shaped the restless battle-hungry fire that burned in his chest into something fierce and steady.

His arms, lean and corded with muscle, flexed with each stroke, his mind miles away even as the shores of Troy began to emerge from the shadowed horizon.

The first hint of dawn crept across the sky casting the faintest blush of pink against the endless dark. Greek ships—like scattered flecks of ash against the shoreline—bobbed in the gentle current, their tattered sails hanging limp in the early morning calm.

With a deep controlled breath, he let the oars slip from his fingers, the wooden shafts settling into their holders with a soft clunk causing the boat to drift lazily in the gentle sway of the tide.

His calloused hands reached for the worn leather bag at his feet, fingers brushing over familiar objects until they found what he sought: A parchment folded and creased from weeks of handling.

He stared at it, his chest rising and falling with each breath as memories flooded his mind. His mother’s voice echoed in his head—her stories of his father, the greatest of great, a man whose name was whispered with both reverence and dread across the known world.

He unfolds the paper slowly as if it were fragile enough to crumble under his touch. The familiar handwriting stared back at him bold and confidently. His father’s words, penned with the same assuredness that had carried him through countless battles.

As a child he’d clung to these letters, each one a lifeline to the a he barely knew. He remembers sitting at his mother’s feet, the scrolls unfurling like sacred texts as she read them aloud.

But the letters had grown sparse over time. After the death of Patroclus they nearly stopped altogether.

Patroclus...

A name he’d never spoken but one that felt etched into his bones. His father’s comrade...his lover.

The sorrow in his father’s words had been palpable in those final letters, the grief seeping through the ink like blood from an open wound. He could almost feel the weight of pain. His hand tightened around the parchment causing the edges to crumple beneath his fingers.

And then, just a year before his death, the last letter had arrived. It was different from the others. For it did not focus on war, but of love.

“In the time of my end, I want you to meet her.”

His father had spoken of someone new—someone who had filled the void left by Patroclus, someone who had reignited the fire in his heart. The letter had continued with uncharacteristic tenderness the boy had never read from Achilles before.

The words had haunted him ever since, though it was the portrait enclosed that had left a lasting impression.

“She is more than just the spark who sets my heart aflame; she will be your guide. A means to help you in your prophecy.”

He reached into the bag again to pull out a the piece of tucked carefully between his belongings. It was old but the lines were still as vivid as the day it had been drawn.

Lines and shading so precise; it was as if he could reach through the page, touch the subject as it stared back at him with eyes that seemed to burn through the paper. There was strength, a fierceness. And yet there was a softness too—a warmth that his father had captured with startling precision.

You.

He traced the outline of your face with a calloused thumb as his father’s words echoed in his mind like a mantra that pushed away the fear and uncertainty.

“My love...my heart...”

With a final glance at the portrait, he carefully folds and tuck it back into his bag alongside the letter. The Son of Deïdamia tightened his grip on the oars and began to row once more, the boat slicing through the water with renewed determination.

He would reach Troy.

He would fulfill his prophecy.

And when he found you, the woman who had claimed his father's heart, he would find the strength to face whatever Fate placed before him.

"...my ____."

*･:*:★☽✧⚔️✧☾★:*:･*

The morning sun sat high in the sky pouring over the camp like liquid fire.

The Greek camp was alive with movement—men tending to their wounds, sharpening blades, reinforcing the defenses after yet another skirmish at dawn. A small group of bold Trojans had attempted a bold but foolish attack.

It was a reminder that Troy, even weakened, was far from defenseless.

Inside the council tent, the tension was thick enough to choke on. You stood with Penelope at your right and Diomedes to your left while from across Menelaus sat at with brows furrowed deep in thought.

Maps and parchments lay scattered across the wooden table, flames of oil lamps flickering against the canvas walls. The discussion had gone back and forth for what felt like hours with no consensus having been reached.

“The Palladium must be taken,” you state firmly, leaning forward with hands pressed against the flat surface. “So long as it remains in Troy the city will never fall. We all know this.”

“I don’t disagree,” Diomedes countered, hazel eyes fixed on you unwavering. “But you and Penelope going together? It’s reckless.”

“Who better than us?” Penelope challenged with a tilt of her head. Her voice was calm but there was a steely edge beneath it. “Stealth is needed, not brute force. Who among us is better suited to infiltrate Troy than two who have spent years navigating the shadows?”

Diomedes exhaled sharply. “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t go together. You’re both Ithacan Commanders. If something happens to you, your men will be leaderless.”

“And you think I’d let you go alone?” you shot back, raising a brow.

“I’m more experienced in this sort of mission,” he replied tightly. “And you’re too important to risk. If something happened—”

“Something always happens,” you interrupt. “War is never safe. We’ve all risked our lives countless times. I’m not sitting this out.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Menelaus raised a hand, signaling for silence. His dark eyes studied him before flicking to you. “Then what do you suggest?”

You straightened. “I go in with him and Penelope stays here. That way we won't lose both if the mission goes south.”

A long heavy pause stretched between you before Diomedes finally gave a slow nod. “…Fine.”

You and Penelope shared a look. And though she wasn't entirely pleased with the outcome, she knew it was best. She simply folded her arms, exhaling through her nose. “Be careful,” she muttered.

You smirked. “Aren’t I always?”

The conversation should have continued—details, plans, strategies—but before another word could be spoken, the sound of commotion erupted from outside. Voices of soldiers rose in volume, urgent and disjointed, growing louder by the second.

You and the others exchanged glances before instinct took over. Your hands moved to your weapons, gripping the hilts as you strode toward the entrance. You were the last to exit, turning swiftly to retrieve your axe from where it leaned against the wooden frame of the tent.

As soon as you stepped outside, the sunlight hit your eyes, momentarily blinding you. Blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness, that’s when you saw it—

Men gathering. Whispering. Watching.

There was no attack, no enemy breaching the camp’s borders. And yet the soldiers still stood apprehensive, their eyes trained toward the sea. Their murmurs filled the air like the buzzing of insects.

Your heart thumped hard against your ribs as Polites came rushing toward you with something between shock and bewilderment.

He struggled to form the words, his mouth opening and closing before he managed to stammer, “Ithacan troops...s-spotted someone. Coming from the sea.” He swallowed thickly, eyes darting back toward the waves. “He’s alone.”

Alone?

Your brows furrowed. A lone figure approaching the Greek controlled shores was...unusual.

“Polites breathe,” you ordered “What’s happening?”

Polites opened his mouth again, but the words stuck, his breath hitching as if lodged in his throat. You shook your head, raising a hand to his shoulder and giving him a firm shake. “Spit it out! What's w—”

“____.”

You froze.

The air around you felt thinner as if the very earth beneath your feet had vanished in an instant.

That voice. Why does that voice... Why does it sound like—

Your limbs felt too light, almost weightless, as you slowly turned toward the source.

Soldiers parted like waves before a ship as a figure walked through the crowd with measured strides. The sun was at his back, casting his form in a halo of gold, the light bending around him like a favor of the Gods themselves.

And when you saw him, truly saw him—

Your stomach dropped.

The world tilted.

A small instinctive step back made the sand shift beneath your heels. At your side, both Penelope and Diomedes exhaled sharply, as if they too had forgotten to breathe.

Menelaus was the first to mutter aloud with disbelief. “…What in Hades’ name…”

But you didn't hear him. Because all you could do was stare.

His green eyes shone under the morning sun with an unmistakable mischievous glint. His golden curls, longer than you recall, shone brilliantly as it fell in the same wild way down strong broad shoulders.

And that smile—

That arrogant, infuriating, breath-stealing smile that had once made you flushed with irritation and want in equal measure.

The axe slipped from your grip and fell to the ground with a dull thud beside you. Polites barely avoided losing a few toes, yelping as he stumbled back.

The figure—the man before you—smiled wider at your reaction; his voice smooth and unshaken as he took another step forward.

“____,” he said again, his voice laced with something you couldn’t name. “Second-in-Command of Ithaca’s troops. It’s an honor to be in your presence.”

His words barely registered. Your body was frozen, locked in place as your mind struggled to catch up with what you were seeing.

He looked just like—

Your lips parted but no sound came. Your lungs burned, your heart raced, and for a moment you wondered if you were standing in a dream, some cruel trick of the Gods.

Because there, standing before you in the flesh, was—

“…Achilles?”

The man before you blinked. His green eyes flickering before a sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He shifted his weight slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that was so eerily familiar it made your stomach twist.

“My name is Neoptolemus actually,” he corrects gently.

Without hesitation the young man gave a formal precise bow; his posture rigid with discipline and respect, yet carrying an ease that made it seem natural—as if he had practiced it countless times before.

“I am Neoptolemus,” he introduced steadily despite the lingering hints of amusement in his expression. “Son of Deïdamia, Daughter of King Lycomedes of Scyros…” He straightened as he gave you a knowing look. “...And of Achilles, Son of Peleus of Phthia.”

Your breath hitched.

Achilles had a son?

The words barely settled in your mind before you heard a loud grunt and the sound of metal scraping against metal.

Agamemnon elbowed his way through the gathered crowd. The soldiers parted instinctively, some stepping aside until he finally reached the clearing with an exaggerated shove and mutter of curses under his breath.

His bronze-plated armor was still scuffed, dust and dried blood smudged across his bracers and breastplate. But none of that mattered as he happened upon seeing Neoptolemus’ face.

For a long moment there was nothing but stunned silence.

Then, in a voice loud enough to carry across the entire camp, Agamemnon audibly gasped and blurted out: “Are you shitting me? Motherfucker just multiplying?!”

A few men snorted and someone choked on their own spit trying to hold back laughter, but most of the camp was still too frozen in sheer disbelief.

Neoptolemus’ smile thinned slightly before he let out a slow measured exhale. He turned his head just enough to side-eye Agamemnon, his expression unreadable but his posture still polite.

With a slight tilt of his head, he offered the Mycenaean King a curt nod before calmly repeating his introduction, this time for Agamemnon’s benefit.

At this point the Commander of Greeks was already making his way over to where you, Penelope, Diomedes, and Menelaus were standing at the entrance of the council tent.

Up close, his expression shifted from disbelief into curiosity; releasing a low whistle as he looked Neoptolemus up and down. “Well shit,” Agamemnon muttered, folding his arms across his chest. “How old are you kid?”

Neoptolemus, ever composed, responded without hesitation. “I recently turned eighteen last month.”

Agamemnon let out a bark of laughter, jabbing an elbow into Menelaus’ side, which the Spartan King gritted his teeth through.

“You hear that brother?” Agamemnon grinned. “Barely a man and already walks into our camp like he owns the place. Looks isn't the only thing he inherited aye?”

Menelaus, looking entirely unamused, deadpanned, “Don’t you have a battle to oversee?”

Agamemnon waved a dismissive hand. “Already over. We won...as usual.” He paused, giving Neoptolemus another once-over before muttering, “One thing about Achilles huh...he’s got some strong genes.”

Menelaus exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Seems that way.”

Though he couldn’t argue with it—there was a faint flicker in the younger Son of Atreus’ face as his eyes observed the boy. If there was any part of him unnerved by the resemblance he didn’t show it.

Penelope finally snapped out of her initial stupor with a shake of her head before stepping forward. “Ithaca’s Queen, Penelope.” She gave a polite incline of her head. “It is an honor to meet you Neoptolemus of Scyros.”

Neoptolemus brightened instantly as a boyish grin crossed his face. “I know who you are my Lady. My father spoke very highly of you in his letters.”

Penelope’s lips parted slightly at that, brows raising just a fraction. “He did?”

But Neoptolemus’ gaze had already shifted back to you. His expression softened entirely. His voice, quieter, warmer as he added “...Both of you.”

You couldn’t hold his stare any longer.

There was something about him—about the way he looked at you, the way he carried himself, the way his smile lingered just a little too long—that made your chest feel tight.

You could still hear his laughter in your ears...

Still remember the heat of his touch...

The way his arms held you together when you were falling apart....

Your hands clenched at your sides.

Without word, you bent down to retrieve your axe from the ground. And then, without acknowledging anyone, you turned on your heel and started walking away.

Back toward the Myrmidon section of the camp. Back toward Achilles’ tent. Back toward anything but this.

The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

Neoptolemus shifted uncomfortably, the edges of his confidence wavering for the first time since stepping into the Greek camp. He glanced at Penelope, Diomedes, and Menelaus, his brow furrowing slightly before he hesitantly asked:

“....Did I...say something wrong?” His voice held an almost puppy-like uncertainty—unsure if he had somehow ruined his first impression. “If I offended her I—”

Penelope grimaced as she exchanged a look with Diomedes who merely exhaled through his nose and shook his head.

“You’re fine,” Penelope assured him, her voice slightly awkward. “Trust me, if she didn’t like you...you’d know.”

That didn’t seem to fully reassure him, but Neoptolemus nodded slowly, still watching where you had disappeared.

Penelope sighed before turning to the others. “Excuse me,” she muttered, then took off after you, leaving Neoptolemus standing there—more lost than he had been when he first arrived.

*･:*:★☽✧⚔️ BONUS  ⚔️✧☾★:*:･*

The council tent was thick with the scent of burning oil lamps and wine, the air carrying the low murmur of men deep in discussion. The day was nearly done—golden light of sunset seeping through the seams of the tent.

Seated at the head of the room sat Agamemnon who was already well into his wine, reclining in his chair with his chin propped on one hand; the very picture of boredom.

His golden breastplate had been exchanged for a fine embroidered tunic, though the sight of him in clean clothes did little to soften his arrogance. He took another lazy sip as Diomedes continued his report on the day's affairs.

“—and so,” Diomedes concluded, “we commend our King for leading his men in the defense against this morning’s Trojan skirmish.”

Agamemnon let out a noncommittal grunt, swirling his drink before taking another sip. But before any further discussion could take place—

The tent flap suddenly lifted and a hush fell over the room. All eyes turned toward the entrance.

You and Penelope stepped inside.

The change in the air was immediate.

A hushed murmured through the space, though it quickly died down as the Commanders and Kings took in your expressionless face—the mask of quiet control that betrayed nothing.

Beside you, Penelope’s hand never left your arm, her fingers firmly gripping your arm as if to anchor you in place.

Neoptolemus visibly perked up in his seat.

The young warrior had remained silent for most of the earlier proceedings, yet now he was undeniably attentive, his green eyes locked onto you as you stepped further inside.

There was a subtle, almost eager energy about him, though he masked it well—shoulders squared, his expression carefully neutral.

You paid him no mind.

Instead, as you moved through the tent, your gaze found Diomedes. The seasoned warrior met your stare, his scarred features remaining unreadable. After a moment he gives you a faint nod.

With nothing said, you and Penelope take your seats.

Diomedes turned back to the matter at hand. “Now—onto business.” He shifted his gaze to Neoptolemus who immediately rose to his feet at the unspoken command.

“This war is ending,” Diomedes began addressing the room, “and for it to happen we must ensure Troy falls.” He folded his arms. “We cannot do that as long as the Palladium remains within its walls.”

A quiet murmur of agreement rippled across those gathered.

It was Menelaus who leaned forward next, fixing Neoptolemus with an expectant look. “Your father spoke of a prophecy surrounding your arrival,” he said. “Tell us everything.”

Neoptolemus didn’t hesitate.

“I learned of it from Achilles himself,” he confirmed. “Specifically after the death of Patroclus.”

At the mention of Patroclus you exhaled slowly. No one noticed.

Neoptolemus continued. “Troy will only fall with the aid of Neoptolemus of Scyros and the Bow of Hercules. He had written to my mother of it and she told me when I came of age. I spent my years in Scyros training with the best warriors on the island—I have fought in battles across the Aegean, gaining experience against pirates and rogue warriors.”

His words were well-rehearsed, practiced—but there was truth in them. The earnestness in his voice was unmistakable.

And yet, despite the passion in his speech, his eyes drifted to you, as if searching for approval, for a hint of pride.

“My father’s last letter spoke of his time running out,” he admitted, voice laced with something heavy and regretful. “He told me my time to arrive in Troy would come soon after.”

A beat of quiet.

Diomedes gave a slow approving nod. “You seem to be capable enough,” he said. Menelaus hummed. “And you have your father’s strength.”

Neoptolemus straightened. “Whatever plans are made,” he declared, resolve in his expression, “I want a part in them.” His voice was firm.

That caused a pause.

Diomedes and Menelaus exchanged a look, considering the weight of the young warrior’s request. But before either of them could answer a soft sigh broke the silence.

All attention turned as you slowly rose to your feet.

For a moment you didn’t speak. Instead your gaze drifted across the room, across every face present; the Kings, the Commanders, the weary Generals.

“....So much has been taken in this war.”

The words hung heavy in the space.

You let your fingers drift over the worn handle of your axe before clenching your fist. “We have fought. We have bled. And still, we are here.”

A flicker of something sharp passed through your gaze.

“How many years have passed since we left home?” you asked lowly.

No one answered.

“They grow old while we remain here,” you murmured. “Waiting...fighting....dying.”

A slow inhale. A steadying of your shoulders.

“It is time to finish this.”

And then you looked at him...

Neoptolemus.

The one who bore his father’s face. The one who, in another life, might have been nothing more than a passing name in a distant letter.

A soft breath left you as you gathered yourself, forcing every last emotion down to where it couldn’t touch you.

And then, finally—

“…Are you ready?”

Neoptolemus stiffened, his green eyes going wide for a fraction of a second before he quickly masked it with a determined nod.

"To fulfill your destiny..." Your voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. "To destroy Troy once and for all."

The answer came immediately.

“Yes.”

His voice was calm, but the enthusiasm in his eyes was almost childlike, barely concealed beneath the guise of a warrior. He caught himself quickly, clearing his throat in an attempt to look more composed.

You tilted your head slightly at his reaction. The faintest hint of a smirk curled at the edge of your lips.

“Good.” You took a step closer, your tone lightening just slightly. “Because I hope you make for a believable servant girl.”

The moment the words left your mouth Neoptolemus’ entire face fell.

The tent was dead silent for half a second before—

Agamemnon barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his wine.

[skylarsblue]

»zenless zone zero«

Details of Belle's room, because I like her a lot and she deserves more attention.

[Desc: Belle's wooden desk. Featuring an industrial style lamp, a metal lock box under a standard black file box. There's a pair of white headphones with green detailing, and a clear plus(+) and minus(-) symbol for volume. A pencil holder that looks a bit like film, though it has numbers & letters. It holds a pair of scissors, a graphite pencil, an exacto blade/box cutter, a marker, and a mechanical pencils/pen. There's a scrap/sketch book in the center, brown and seemingly leather. There's a latch and band to keep it closed and it's covered in stamps, most notably one with a four leaf clover. On the wall are two post it notes, both with little doodles. This hints that she's creative. Either collecting stamps and stickers, which would align with the stickers all over her room and her pension for memory keeping (see the memory board the player can edit), and that she at least does small doodles, if not draw as a hobby.]

[Desc: Beside her orange box tv; which is inspired by vintage 70s/80s tube televisions with knobs/dials; is a game console on top of a VHS player. It's seemingly inspired by the Super Nintendo Entertainment System, based on it's shape. There are three game cartridges, one in the machine. The one in the console is half visible, but what we can see has a blue smiley face. The second cartridge with a visible sticker seems to be either a horror or "biohazard" type shooter game. Though that's my interpretation.]

[Desc: Beside her desk is a wall with pipes. On the lower pipe there are more post it notes with more small doodles, stuck to the pipe with small magnets. One features a small yellow star and three big question marks. Two features a figure running with their hands over their head, carrying a heart. Three has some illegible writing and an emoticon face. On the pipe above this one are VHS tape boxes. Most are in kanji I cannot read, but the ones I can are- (1) The Silence of the Butterflies (2) I'M NOT A BANGBOO (3) The Sixteenth Split. I like to imagine the first movie is maybe a reference to Silence of the Lambs, based on the title alone. Which, if it is, might mean Belle likes horror/psychological horror movies.]

[Desc: On the table beside her mini fridge is a hybrid music player. It plays records via a slit in the front, almost like a CD player. And there's a space for walkman tapes above that. The volume knob is notably loud, there are tiny numbers and Belle's set it to the second-to-last setting. There's a box of records beside it with two semi visible packages. The first one is in kanji I, again, cannot read. But my guess, based on the art, is some kind of alt style music. The one behind it has a barely visible animal mascot with vibrant blues & greens, and the sharp art style makes me think of electric rock or pop. Behind this is her night stand. On the nightstand is a blue "GameBoy" and a yellow mug that says 'LENMAN', which is also seen on a soda can in her room. Lemon soda, I would guess.]

[Desc: The wall beside Belle's (unmade) bed. There are five posters. One features art of a woman's face above the movie title; 'REVERSAL'. There is some silhouette art that vaguely looks like some ethereal monsters, followed by the movie tag line underneathe - "Night of the Ethereal Reversal". Might be a Night of the Living Dead reference. Which further makes me believe Belle likes horror movies. The second poster is covered by One & Three, which makes it pretty hard to know what it shows. What I can see is an unfinished title - "---- Slayer". There's eyes on some of the visible artwork and it looks vaguely like a record with scenes on it. The third poster features various Bangboos climbing away from a large, glowing, orange, Bangboo that seems to be "exploding" with energy, exposing its skeleton & heart. There's kanji I can't read, but under the kanji title is the word "THUNDER". And the words "BANGBOO POWER" are behind the artwork at the top. The fourth poster is one also seen downstairs in the Random Play store. The title is 'Coffee Mate'. Based on the style & energy of the artwork, my personal guess is that it's a romantic, slow paced anime film. The fifth & last poster is titles Ports Peak. The art is blue with a red chainsaw blade shape cutting through the middle, in the blade shape is the vague image of a man's side profile. Based on the blood splatter pattern & the chainsaw, this is likely a horror movie. The art makes me think of Evil Dead & Texas Chainsaw Massacre, personally.]

{Desc: Beside Belle's leather couch is a red electric guitar & an orange amp. On the couch is also one of her console controllers...which has no joy sticks, only a d pad, buttons, and bumpers. Also, she has stickers on her leather couch, clearly showing she gives no fucks.]

[Desc: On the floor, in a divot in the wall beside the small stairs that go up to her bed's raised platform is a skateboard & a framed poster. The skateboard features a green dinosaur/monster with it's mouth open. The bottom says FATE, likely the brand. The framed poster features two smiling tigers on the top & bottom of a logo, on a red & black striped background. Since she also has snowboard goggles in her room, I'm guessing she uses the skateboard when the weather is too warm for snow.]

[Desc: Next to Eous's charging station is a yellow dresser. On top of it is a boombox radio that has two mixtape spots. There's a small display with random colors that currently displays a pause symbol. It also has an antenna, which means it could be used as a standard FM/AM radio. Beside the boombox is a rabbit statue that Belle is using to hold a pair of black, green & blue snowboarding goggles. Small note, on Eous' coat is the words "Random Play - Staff", and his scarf has their name in small text.]

[Desc: At the end of Belle's bed is a pair of red shelves, and a pair of industrial metal & wood shelves. On the red shelves are three record sleeves. The small text on the albums is gibberish, but they're all made by 5AM Studios. The first and top one is black with white graffiti-bubble letters that say "3Z". R'n'B maybe? I've seen art like this for some R'N'B albums. Below it, the second album features some art of a Bangboo riding a cat through a ring of fire. Above the art is the word ZENLESS. The font & style give me, personally, some rock vibes. What subgenre of rock, I'm not sure. The last album is a art of a spider on a black & red ombre background, contrasting the spider, which features the same gradient in the opposite direction. The spider seems to feature the name of the band or album, but I can't tell what it says. I do know that this shit has to be a metal album. I'm like, 90% sure. On the industrial style shelves are some VHS tapes & a box. These tapes look like the type you buy for your own recordings, rather than ones with movies. Underneath that level is a technicolor piece of artwork in a frame. There's an illegible signature in the right bottom corner, meaning it's an autograph.]

[margindoodles2407]

Heyyy @seeking-elsewhither. You know how I'm giving you a HFSW Bad Batcher a day until you stop being sick. Well since I missed it yesterday,,, and you need your guys,,, well I went to draw Tech and things got. Out of hand

Closeups and notes under the cut

Goggles

You do not know how hard Tech's hair is to get right

So! His goggles I actually struggled over for months and months because, you know. They're hard to draw. And then I found these on Pinterest and all my problems were solved forever. (SERIOUSLY THOUGH I WANT THESE. I MEAN LOOKIT THEM THEY EVEN HAVE THE IMPERIAL INSIGNIA ON THE LENSES)

Now obviously my drawing skills mean I have to scale these down immensely but as you can see. These are not your everyday, run-of-the-mill goggles. Tech built them himself (actually most of his armor was either custom-built or modified) and so they've got some special features built in.

So Tech's an artificier, cause it's High Fantasy Star Wars, and they don't have computers but they sure as heck do have alchemy. One of his modifications is the addition of little lights mounted to the barrels of his lenses, for working at night/in low light, or with materials that need to be illuminated to function properly. The other main addition happens to be the extra magnification lenses mounted to his left lens barrel. He can adjust these as needed when working.

Upper Body Armor

Bro really went ☝ (you know i had to do it to him)

Okay so in the absence of his datapad he carries around his journal. That he is constantly writing in. It also has a panel on the front cover in which he can store some of his vials, because I think that's cool and it's my AU and I Can Do What I Want.

In fact, his writing in his journal is so frequent that he actually has a pen holder mounted to his left pauldron, so when he needs to take a note of anything he can just reach over and lo and behold there it is. (He's also the in-universe inventor of pre-filled fountain pens, because it's too much of a hassle to pull out a quill and a bottle of ink any time he needs to write in the middle of the field.)

His upper arm "armor" actually consists of little bags he keeps various things in, including a bottle of ink for when he needs to refill his fountain pen. Other trinkets include small amounts of alchemical ingredients and small personal trinkets (including, after his ID ring is removed, the chains it was kept on. side side note but while the clones who had their rings removed destroyed the rings themselves, they kept the chains because of the symbolism of brotherhood they carried. a lot of them reworked them back into a single loop and wore them around their necks, like they did when they were cadets.).

And then of course there is the Backpack of Many Things (tm) in which he keeps his many things, including but not limited to: alchemical bottles (both full and empty), bags and boxes and tubes of alchemical ingredients (he has an organizational system), backup journals (for when his current journal fills up, currently he has somewhere around twenty-seven full journals and he's been keeping them consistently since he was at least four-eight), medical supplies (common sense), non-perishable food items (also common sense), a waterskin and several empty extras (also ALSO common sense), his wallet (also also ALSO common sense), and his work instruments (knives, mortar and pestle, stoppers, eyedroppers, stirring sticks, measuring cups, et cetera et cetera).

Right Gauntlet Closeup

On his right arm, Tech wears a special leather gauntlet (as opposed to the metal bracer on his left arm) that, surprise surprise, also carries Things (tm).

He's got a little box (in which to keep miscellanea) that also functions as a holder for- you guessed it- more alchemical vials.

There's also a watch that double-functions as a thermometer and lunar calendar (there's a second face under the clock that has the thermometer, and the lunar calendar you see through a little cut-out window towards the bottom; it's got a little picture of the current phase of the moon in it).

This gauntlet doesn't have any heavy-duty finger armor on it cause he needs dexterous use of his dominant fingers. Also, it was the hand he wore his ID ring on, and with how bulky and complicated that gauntlet is, it was uncomfortable to have any major obstructions to the phlanges there.

Lower Body Armor

Featuring a full view of his cuirass! It... is in very low definition cause this is a small doodle mainly focusing on the legs XD

Okay so on his belt he has larger bottles full of chemicals that would need to be used often and reached quickly. It's not shown here but he does also have a book holster in which he keeps his journal for easy access.

Then there's his leather overskirt, which he wears to kind of cushion his bottles and book holster so they're not constantly chafing against his legs. It also serves as his upper-leg protection in place of full-leg greaves, and especially as a precaution in case any of his bottles ever shatter (protection against both whatever's in the bottle AND broken glass).

He does wear padded knee armor, since, you know, he's gotta kneel down a lot to study stuff and he needs to prevent early-onset knee damage XD

Finally, his boots; they do have the heaviest protection of all his lower-body armor (steel toes and heels, and tough shin guards), but they also double as- surprise!- a place to Hold More Stuff. Yes, he even has little pouches on his legs. I swear he carries like, all of his material possessions with him. If it can't be on his person at all times then why would he own it? (This does not apply to the piano he built into one of the Marauder's walls; I'll talk about that when I make that post about Clones and Music.)

Helmet

Okay so as you can see his helmet is unique because he actually had to design it himself. (Actually, all of Clone Force 99 have unique helmets, but Tech's is unique because it's not a historical style of helmet.) It's built in two separate pieces: a face plate, and a helm; this is so that, even when helmeted, he still has access to his goggles.

Other than that, it's pretty simple as far as helmets go. He did add the antennae just for funsies, but actually they're not really for funsies because he's Tech and everything he does has a Purpose (tm); they're incredibly sharp where they slot into the helmet and he can take them out as a secret weapon in life-or-death situations.

The other big thing is that the cheek guards of his helm are sculpted to look like Tern wings; Clone Force 99 are all Commandos, and as stated previously, Commandos are denoted by the fact that their helmets have wings mounted to them. Of the Batch, only Hunter and Cross have *actual* wings on their helms, but Tech and Wrecker still have the wing motif. (If you want to see the process behind this, and also what bird every Batcher claims, Evie and I had a long talk about it a few months ago, which I will link here. you may have to go into the notes to read the tags to get the complete picture but i assure you it's all there)