#like I don’t have school for 2 months a year lemme fill my time with feeling sexy when I can’t do that the rest of the year

[gh0stly-girlfriend]

if u harass me about making (nsfw) content, get a life. I wanna take some photos and post them on the internet and if u don’t wanna see them then leave idk

[outerbankies]

new light blurb: tongue tied — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: back in the obx for the first time since you left for college, you run into the one friend you missed more than you care to admit.

warnings: alc and weed and swearing

a/n: aka kelce’s first thanksgiving eve party so takes place their freshman year of college. pic from kelce’s story lol

From part 1: “Or the first time you saw him since moving away, when Kelce had thrown a Thanksgiving Eve rager. You almost hadn’t recognized Rafe in the smoke filled house, but he had moved to you eagerly like he’d been waiting for you all night.

And now you realize, he probably had.”

&

From part 2: “My worst fear was that you’d come home with some college boyfriend I couldn’t compete with,” he admits. “I was nervous as fuck the first time we were all back here for the holidays. And then I saw you at that party and I just thought: 'alright, still got it bad.’”

—

“C‘mon, guys. Kelce really wanted us to come.”

“But,” your friend, Margot, groans. “I just don’t understand why we can’t go drink rosé in Gretchen’s basement.”

“Becauuuse,” Gretchen sing-songs. “All of our friends are going to be here tonight. And I miss partying in Figure 8.”

Margot laughs at that. “That’s actually kinda sad, Gretch.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighs. “That’s what happens when you go to a liberal arts school in Vermont.”

“Okay,” Margot concedes. “But I need about three shots right when we get in if I have to see people from high school tonight. Kelce probably splurged on booze, yeah?”

“Of course he did. I’m so excited to see everyone,” you say quietly, your smile just to yourself as you continue the walk up Kelce’s driveway. It’s already packed, the three of you arriving late as you always did, even in high school. Old habits die hard.

You hear Margot giggle when Gretchen murmurs something at your last comment, and shoot them both a weird look. But they just shrug as the three of you finally make your way into the house, the two girls hanging tightly on either of your arms.

Margot made good on her proclamation, Gretchen following her to the kitchen as soon as you’re inside.

You’re caught up waving to people, Griffin’s hug lasting a little too long, lost in the crowd to the point where your friends don’t wait for you to follow anymore.

You finally make your way to the kitchen after a while, already feeling dazed and a little tipsy after taking a couple of jello shots with some old classmates. You’re caught up in surveying the expansive kitchen packed with people you haven’t seen in months, trying to spot Gretchen’s pink dress.

“Hey, California.”

Rafe Cameron is leaned up against the counter by the fridge, arms crossed over his chest. That same self-assured smile that you pretended to never notice still on his face, looking comfortable as ever, like he owns the place. Until you meet his gaze and he’s immediately pushing off the counter, making his way toward you. He stops at the fridge on his way, pointing at you across the way. “Drink?”

“Please.”

Some stubborn strands of hair had fallen out of his usual gel—or maybe he was using less, you wonder. He pushes them back as he opens the fridge, only surveying its contents for a split second before immediately going for a bottle of wine on the top shelf.

He turns and kicks the fridge door shut, presenting it to you. “Kelce got this for you.”

“Lemme see,” you say, holding your hands out for it while Rafe grabs a red cup off of stack on top of the fridge, his t-shirt riding up just so on his stomach. You blink and look away immediately—god, you were so not used to being around him anymore—going back to studying the label. “Wow, he has good taste.”

“I have good taste,” Rafe corrects, cutting the foil off for you with one of his keys. “He made me nab it from my dad’s cellar.”

“Oh, so Ward has good taste. That was nice of you though,” you grin. Your heart seizes momentarily in your chest when Rafe suddenly leans closer to you, arm outstretched to rest his hand on the counter behind you. Up close like this you notice the subtle changes, but more importantly, all the ways he’d stayed the same. Comfort and thrill all wrapped into one high school crush that you’re beginning to think will never truly die. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning back, displaying the corkscrew he has in hand, nabbed from the counter behind you. “How’s school? When’d you get home?”

“Good. Late last night,” you sigh, collecting your thoughts. “So I’m tired, but. Time difference helps.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Rafe says, handing you a red solo cup full of wine. He glances at his watch. “It’s only, what, seven for you right now, huh?”

“Yeah,” you smile, taking a sip of your drink, trying to remind yourself that everybody calculates time zones that easily—it doesn’t mean anything.

“Do you like it all the way out there?” Rafe wonders.

“I do. It’s different, but nice.”

“I see that on you. Whole California vibe,” he says, causing you to quirk a brow. Rafe smiles. “You know, vegan hippies who love astrology and whatever.”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically. “Spoken like a true scorpio.”

“But hey,” Rafe says, voice going a little softer. You have to lean in a little closer to hear him properly. “That’s awesome. I’m glad you like it. You worked hard—I told you that you could do it.”

“Yeah,” you say, your eyes scanning his face. “You did.”

Your mind briefly wanders back to college applications season, exactly a year ago from now. You’d been stressed to the point of tears at one point—overwhelmed by the pressure you put on yourself to carve out a new path, away from the Outer Banks and away from where your parents expected you go to college. And your friend Rafe had been right there for you, to assure you that it’d all be fine—and he was right.

“But what about you? Did you rush?” you ask, changing the subject. “Oh, wait. Let me guess.”

“Ha, ha,” Rafe repeats. “I’m guessing you didn’t?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Not really my thing. But I love that for you.”

“Hold on, not your thing? You have to be a legacy,” Rafe says.

You shrug. “Figured I already pissed my parents off enough by not going up north, might as well fully send it.”

Rafe watches you for a second, his eyes shiny, from the liquor, you have to assume. “You’re trouble. C’mere.”

You set your wine on the counter as he pulls you into a quick hug, the sounds of the party momentarily quieting to a dull buzz as you’re pressed into his chest.

“Did you miss home?” you ask, pulling back after a second. His left hand lingers as he leans away from you again, dragging from the small of your back and across your hip until his touch is gone from you.

Rafe scans your features, bringing his own beer back to his lips. “Some of it. Definitely.”

“Y/n/n! You made it!”

Kelce is pulling you into a bone-crushing hug as he comes up behind you, Rafe moving your drink further away from you so it doesn’t spill. You giggle while Kelce presses aggressive kisses into your hair and on your cheek, quickly realizing how drunk he already is.

“Kelce,” you smile. “I missed you.”

“Missed you,” he says, glancing at your empty hands. “I’m a terrible host. Where’s your drink?”

“Oh,” you say, twisting around to pick it up and show him. “Rafe already got me one.”

“I’m sure he did,” Kelce says.

“I mean—it’s my wine, technically,” Rafe fumbles. You just smile obliviously at them both.

“How’s school treating you?”

The three of you catch up, taking turns exchanging horror stories about move-in, first nights out, required eight AM lectures. You can’t help the way your eyes trail over Rafe’s face as he tells you about pledging his fraternity, or the way his eyes twinkle under the harsh kitchen lights, the shirt you don’t recognize pulled tightly over his shoulders. You might get a little carried away, jolting when Kelce’s fingers suddenly dig into your ribs.

“Hey. I asked you a question.”

“Sorry, what?” you laugh, pushing away his hands where he keeps jabbing them into your stomach and taking a large gulp of your drink.

He smirks, eyes flickering to Rafe, then back to you once his friend breaks eye contract. “I was just wondering if you managed to find some uppity new boyfriend out at school yet.”

“Ah,” you sigh, that thought the furthest from your mind. “No, Kelce. C’mon, you’d know.”

Just then, Margot and Gretchen call you over from the other side of the kitchen, more jell-o shots in their hands. You turn back to Rafe and Kelce, giving them both a smile. “Duty calls. Nice to see you guys. Hit me up before we leave?”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods, while Kelce just watches the two of you. You give them both a two finger salute before heading off, knowing you’re gonna need more than a few jell-o shots to shake the feelings you were having about an old friend.

—

“Could you have been any more fucking obvious?” Rafe says, harshly nudging Kelce’s shoulder once you’re out of sight.

“What? You wanted to know. Now you know,” Kelce rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I was just curious,” Rafe sighs, exasperated. “Jesus. Now she’s gonna think I want to—”

Kelce narrows his eyes. “Don’t you?”

“That doesn’t—we don’t—it doesn’t matter,” Rafe stutters. But he doesn’t say ‘no.’

“I promise, dude. She’s not gonna suspect that,” Kelce sighs, putting your bottle of wine back in the fridge. “Y/n is seriously the only person I know who’s more oblivious than you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t think… no. She has to know I had a crush on her, right?”

“Highly doubt it,” Kelce says, considering it for a second. “Highly.”

“There’s no way. I was… there’s no way,” Rafe says. “Could you ask her?

“You could ask her. Take her out or something,” Kelce shrugs. Rafe just rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe in a million years.”

“Nah,” Kelce says, downing the rest of his drink, patting his pockets for a lighter. “I give it, like, three. Four max? I mean, it’s Y/n/n. She’ll have to have found someone else by—”

“Will you shut the fuck—”

“Three what?” Topper says, coming up to join the two of them, eyes alight when Kelce pulls a joint from behind his ear.

“Three years until Rafe and Y/n get their shit together.”

“Ah,” Topper says. “Yeah. Three’s a good guess. Cause it’s gonna have to be her. Rafe’ll never do it.”

Rafe flips him off then plucks the joint out of Kelce’s hand harshly, lighting it himself and taking a long drag.

Rafe never expected his feelings for you to completely evaporate once the two of you left town for school. He didn’t even consider that physically possible.

He knew that no matter what he told his friends, his “crush” on you had at some point evolved into a feeling he’d never felt before—and wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. But still, if seeing you again didn’t nearly knock him completely off-kilter, like he should’ve anticipated but didn’t.

You didn’t look completely the same, not if he paid close attention. Which he did. Your shoulders were pressed back a bit further, your smiles were a bit less timid—not for him though. Never for him.

But you were still you, and he could never get enough. Would never get enough, ever.

He sees you from across the way, and you duck your head as soon as he makes eye contact, turning back to Margot and Gretchen.

Rafe shakes his head, passing the joint off and exhaling a plume of smoke. “It’s never gonna happen.”

[spiked-tea-writing]

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Please Don't Say Goodbye | Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Warnings: light swearing, crying, implied panic attacks, arguments, yelling, ummm lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2181

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble- okay, in my defence, I've had such writers block and apparently the feels were necessary soooo. This is 1 of 2 fic ideas that were sent to me by @satan-ruler-of-hells for a prompt thing I did (idk if I can find the thing) and the next one is Tendou. So, maybe get ready for more feels of my almost 5 am angst. I also did not proof-read this, sooooo

--------

How had things ended up like this?

Every little thing was like the calm before the storm - the most tense calm that had ever existed; you were walking on eggshells, and maybe so was he, but you couldn’t help it. At least, you thought you couldn’t. Each attempt to try and fix the mess around you only ended up in more heartbreak.

The storm that always seemed to be headed in your direction had tore apart the home you’d meticulously built together. Plates and picture frames shattered to the ground; glass leaving you walking on bleeding feet. The flowers of your love torn apart somewhere in the distance now. Breath stolen from your lungs, but not from those kisses he’d give you back in high school, not from the way he’d dance with you around his bedroom (only to shove you onto the bed when his brother barged in), not from your outrageous laughter at something stupid that had happened. This was a breath stolen from countless nights arguing, screaming, trying to gain the upper hand in a situation where you were both at a standstill. A breath stolen from your heaving words as you scrunch your hands into your roots, pull your legs close to your chest and shove yourself into a corner while he slammed the door and left to God knows where. Breath stolen from the realization that maybe things just weren’t working like they used to, and that it was okay to love him, but to not be in love with him.

Tonight was just another picture perfect example of why you weren’t meant to be together. You’d come home late from work (because of some stupid assignment that you just wanted to finish today). He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. Honestly, you just wanted to eat something, so you didn’t bother greeting him, but the moment he noticed your presence in the house, he was hot on your tail.

“Where were you?” His voice sharp as daggers, digging under your skin and tearing you apart piece by piece. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes so judgmental you feel like you’re in court. Nothing you say is the right answer, so you choose to not say anything. Apparently, that wasn’t the right answer either - this you find out when his iron grip settles on your shoulder and forces you to turn around.

“Hey-” you winced, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Where were you?” He repeated, basically growling at you through his gritted teeth.

“I was at work.” You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back towards the fridge, trying to ease the beating of your heart. In, hold, out. You repeat to yourself, barely remembering what all those instagram therapists had told you.

He scoffed, finally releasing his grip in favor of slamming the fridge door shut, “really? Because the last time I checked, your work ended two hours ago. What could you possibly have been doing for two whole hours?” He was in your face now, making you know how pissed he was.

But you already knew. You’d always known. Why did he need to try and make it so blindingly obvious to you?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kei, I was working. What part of that is so hard to understand?” You snapped back, moving away from him with a heavy sigh. At this point, you didn’t bother holding back the venom in your words. You knew he had issues (and you knew why) but did that mean he should take it out on you? No. Fuck.

“Two hours! Y/N, I was waiting two hours. I was going to take us to dinner, we were going to have a nice time.” He followed after you, closing every cupboard door you opened, trying to get your attention. “But you didn’t even send me a text. Were you too busy fuck-”

“Oh my God!” You yelled over him, spinning around to face him with your pure unfiltered aggression.

Back and forth you went for what felt like hours. Tears were acid down your cheeks, your spit a very special concoction of venom just for him. And yet, even as you were dry heaving in the kitchen sink, yelling more obscenities at him, you could never seem to stop. Neither could he.

Tsukishima Kei was known for a lot of things, being an asshole was one of them. That you knew too well.

For a while, though, things were good. He loved you. You loved him.

As he sits there, accusing you over and over of cheating on him, even though you hadn’t and you wouldn’t. God.

When had he become so anxious and persistent that things were going wrong? Yes, they were going wrong, but not for the reasons he keeps saying. It’s driving you insane, to the point where you can’t even remember those stupid breathing techniques, or grounding techniques, or anything.

This argument had lost the plot at some point around when he started yelling at you for doing the dishes wrong (you still insisted there wasn’t a wrong way to do them). So you bit back that his clothes were stupid, or that dinosaurs were stupid, something. Something was stupid.

“If you have so many problems with the way I choose to live my life, then get the fuck out.” You screamed, slamming your fists down onto the table and pointing to the door. His expression was scrunched up into something completely unrecognizable - a fine mixture of hatred and anguish. His chest rising and falling so rapidly you’re amazing he’s still standing. His hair is a complete and utter mess, so many times he’d ran his hand through it to try and make sense of the nonsense you were both spouting.

“Fine, I will!” He yelled back, voice hoarse from the past two hours.

You watched him head towards the door without a second thought, grabbing his coat, shoving his shoes on. You didn’t have the energy to call out after him, no matter how much your heart begged you to.

And your heart did beg you to; but it had already accepted that the end had been coming for too long.

You lean back against one of the cupboards, looking up at that one crack in the ceiling that he’d insisted he’d get around to fixing but something had always come up.

If you had to say what was wrong in your relationship, it would just be something. Something was wrong, and neither of you knew what it was, but something would be your downfall. Something filled the air with poison and made you destined to hate each other; something danced around in your words and twisted the meaning; something caressed your cheek as tears fell.

Something was your downfall and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

So, maybe you’d call in sick the next day, and your boss would believe you because your voice sounded like hell; and maybe you’d spend the entire day lying in bed despite the fact your stomach was beginning for some nutrients; and maybe it would feel good to not have that nagging voice that you shouldn’t sleep in all day.

But today would have felt nicer with him by your side.

If there was one thing Tsukishima Kei was good at (after a lot of practice), it was making you feel just a little bit better with his empty promises and sweet nothings.

So, maybe you’d dressed yourself in his shirt and breath in him; and maybe you’d grab that dinosaur plushie you’d bought him for his birthday so many years ago and pull it to your chest; maybe you’d sleep on his side of the bed even though his pillow wasn’t as fluffy as yours; and maybe, just maybe, you watched his favourite movie on repeat, hoping it would bring him back to you.

Those were all maybe’s. But maybe they did happen, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and tease him for his glasses that he insisted were cool. Or to have him laugh at you for the fact you majored in literature, despite the fact you weren’t good with words.

When your phone rang, you didn’t hesitate in picking it up, almost too excited for his voice, “Kei-”

“Y/N…” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, understanding. It killed your fire of excitement in an instant.

You listened to him talk, something about how Tsukishima had decided you needed a break and would be staying at his place for a little while. Something about how he still loved you, but he didn’t want to keep hurting you like this.

It wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t manage to keep it together and broke out crying all over again, basically screaming and begging for things to be okay. There was no doubt in your mind, if Tsukishima was in the room with Yamaguchi, then he’d heard your cries.

“I’ll be better…” you whimpered, after far too long, “I’ll be nice. A-and… I won’t make fun of his glasses. Or dinosaurs. Please… please, Yamaguchi, please tell him to come home!” You cried out, unsure if you even managed to breathe.

He was silent on the line. You couldn’t take it. The silence, you wanted the noise. You’d prefer the arguing over this.

“I’m sorry…” Yamaguchi said weakly, and you knew how much it was hurting him to say this.

He hung up the phone and you were left as a shell of yourself.

And yet, your life must go on. So, for two months, you pushed your problems to the side and kept dredging forward in the hope that the answer to your problems was in one of these articles. Hoping that your co-worker would tell you some shitty anecdote that would distract you for just a little while.

Yo couldn’t look at your apartment anymore, not as little pieces of him were still littered everywhere.

Only, one day, you came home and he wasn’t anywhere. You didn’t notice it, not at first, but then you saw his mug from your museum visit in his third year of high school wasn’t next to your matching one. And then neither were his books on the shelf in your living room, or under the coffee table. His clothes gone from the closet. Every inch. Every detail. Every bit of him you had left had disappeared in the span of one work day.

And you were left with nothing.

With as much energy as you could muster, you turned and ran in the general direction of Yamaguchi’s house (which was hopeless, considering you had the directional capability of a broken compass and the stamina of a dead horse). You really were hopeless as you dialed his number, ignoring the way the moon taunted you in the sky.

He answered, for whatever reason, and you let out a breath. “What is it?” His tone was even, but something told you he was barely holding it together.

“Is this it?” Was all you could say. Head dizzy as you looked for Yamaguchi’s house - which you just knew was somewhere around here.

“It’s been it for a long time.” He really sounded robotic, like he was reading from a script.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Your voice broke as you ran, ignoring the splintering pain in the balls of your feet, “you thought making Yamaguchi say you needed a break, and then disappearing for two months, and then only reappearing to take your things back was the answer?” You cried out.

“You know-” his voice cracked and he stopped speaking. God, it hurt you so much.

“I never wanted this.” Tears were pouring down your cheeks.

“You think I did?”

“No-”

“I tried, Y/N, I tried so hard. But you would never listen to me!”

“I tried too, Kei!” You tried not to yell, and you hoped that it worked.

Some miracle brought you to Yamaguchi’s door, the one you only recognized because of the little frog statue on the windowsill. You pressed the doorbell, hoping for the best.

“I tried because I loved you. And I waited for you, I waited and hoped you’d come back. I-” you ran your hands through your hair once again. “I know we aren’t the best, that something is always wrong, but we can work on this. We can… fuck, I don’t know. You were the smart one…” he let out a low chuckle laced with pain. “But we can work something out, can’t we?”

There was a pause, and Yamaguchi opened the door, shocked to see you. Your breath hitched but neither of you spoke.

“I… I can’t do this anymore…” he admitted, and you felt your heart shatter. “Y/N, this is it…”

You could see Tsukishima pacing in the living room just down the hall, and you know Yamaguchi knows you’ve seen him. His phone pulled away from his face, finger shaking over that familiar red button.

“Please don’t say goodbye…” you called out.

--------

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Part 15 | The Final Show | 5.9k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Sequins & Zippers Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: as the title suggests, this is the final show, the end of s&z. I want to thank literally anyone who has read a single word of this story. I started Aurora & Harry’s story at the end of hslot18 & was working on it off & on but set out to finish & post it all in 2020. Thank you for not only reading but for bearing with me when I posted late or not at all. I love these 2 with my whole ass heart. & a big sappy shout out to @sadaboutniall​ for chatting through S&Z with me for well over a year & not getting sick of me (or at least not telling me AKLNADSHADF) & for still to this day sending me links to random things & being like ‘omg this is so aurora’ 🖤

anyways, here we go, the final part to Aurora & Harry’s story, for now. 

love you all, mean it. 

Don’t forget to reblog :) 

__________

Aurora made sure to wake up before Harry. She knew it wouldn’t be too hard considering how late they were up after the show last night, high off the 1st show in LA and celebrating Mitch’s birthday. She wrote him a note saying she’d meet him at The Forum and left it on his bedside table. Tiptoeing through Harry’s unfamiliar LA home, Aurora gets ready quickly. It’s gonna be a long day, she knows it and the early sunrise is just starting to cast through the windows. Her phone dings from her bag on the counter and it’s Jeff letting her know a car is picking her up from Harry’s in 10 minutes. 

She’s still not used to all of this, the jet black private cars and the back doors to arenas even after 67 shows in 5 months. It still makes her anxiety spike when she doesn’t know where she is exactly or where she’s going. She’s learned to trust more, trust her own gut, trust people that are on her side, her team, her family. Aurora’s still not used to the fact that this is her life but just as it’s gotten more and more familiar, it’s about to change. 

Large cardboard boxes are waiting for her when she gets to The Forum and meets up with Jeff.

“Have you opened them yet?” Aurora asks him, giddily. 

“Nope, was waiting for you. It’s all you,” Jeff says while motioning to the boxes. 

Aurora rips open the top box and a wide smile finds a home on her face. 

Harry Styles

The Final Show

Of The 

First Tour

Of The

Debut Album

Los Angeles

California

“Oh my god, they’re perfect,” Aurora exclaims. As she admires them Jeff is directing a group of people to start handing them out. Aurora grabs one for her and another for Harry before she gets to work helping hand out the tshirts to everyone. The crew and all the tour staff are changing into the matching white t-shirts when Aurora’s phone chimes with a text from Harry letting her know he’s left and on the way. Aurora’s smile hasn’t left her face since she got to The Forum this morning and she knows the smile will only get bigger as the day goes on. She also knows that if she stops smiling she might start crying and she’s not ready for that yet. 

Aurora and Helene make their way to the tunnel they know Harry will be driving into and parking his car. They’re waiting for him in their matching t-shirts, Helene’s camera ready and giggling about something from the night before when they see the first glimpse of Harry’s bright yellow car come into view up the ramp. His windows are down, music is playing loudly and he’s wearing his pink tinted sunglasses as he pulls in. People are bustling around, some arriving for the first time today and others already running around with lists to complete before the final show. Everyone looks the same and it’s exactly how Aurora wanted it. The celebratory t-shirts remind her of the big productions they put on at school or the end of year dance recitals. She likes the feeling it creates when everyone’s decked out in their shirts and she wants to celebrate Harry and his entire team. The final show. It’s marking the end of an era. His era. 

When Harry gets out of his car, tossing his duffle over his shoulder and sliding his glasses into his hair he stops before he gets to closing the driver door. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera. A dimpled smile forms on Harry’s face and no one is really sure if it’s because Aurora’s waiting for him or it’s the tshirts everyone seems to have gotten the memo about. He closes the door eventually and beelines straight for Aurora. 

“I have a feeling you have something to do with this,” Harry says as he tugs lightly at Aurora’s t-shirt. 

“Might have,” she giggles before kissing him quickly. “Happy final show day!” 

“Don’t make me cry already,” he whines, wrapping his arms around Aurora’s shoulders before hiding his face in her hair. 

There hasn’t been a single moment of silence all day. The excited chatter, the reminiscing of the crazy moments of the past 5 months, the inevitable tears from just about everyone as they begin their goodbyes. Aurora hasn’t strayed much from Harry all day, only once to sneak out to the entrance of The Forum to see all the displays with Helene and check out the lines of fans. Aurora had to cut her adventure short when she felt her eyes start to fill with tears. She wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. 

They’re finally alone in Harry’s dressing room and the silence is welcomed. There’s still bustling and muted chatter and excitement coming from the other side of the door. 

Aurora adjusts the shoulders of Harry’s velvet jacket once he’s slid his arms through the sleeves. She lets out a heavy sigh when she drops her arms to her sides. Harry gives her a look that she can only guess is in place of a million words that he can’t manage to string together right now. Aurora has a million and one that she would like to say to him but it’s not the time or place and she really doesn’t want to cry right now. In the silence, Harry pulls at Aurora’s shoulder and wraps his arms around her tight. 

“Your shirt is gonna get all wrinkly,” Aurora comments after a few beats. She doesn’t make a move to pull away from Harry, instead she carefully buries her head into his shoulder and squeezes him tighter. 

As if on cue, a knock on the door pulls them apart. Harry calls back letting whoever had knocked that he’ll be ready in a minute. Harry kisses Aurora quickly before he grabs his boots from the bottom of the wardrobe case and sits down on the couch to slide them on. 

“Ope, love, got some lipstick on you,” Aurora notices. Her lips quirk up in a smirk as she grabs for a makeup wipe nearby. Harry’s standing from the couch when she turns back to him. “Lemme,” she offers, a soft hand reaching up to cup his jaw to hold his head in place. As she goes to wipe away the red waxy mark across his mouth, she pauses first. “One last good luck kiss,” she whispers. When her lips meet his, it's like their tiny little world unfurls right before them. As if today hadn’t been reminiscent enough, Aurora is reminded of all the moments they’ve spent here in what feels like the same dressing room that has just been picked up and moved to another city every day. As Harry runs a light touch down Aurora’s arm they’re both reminded of the small burn mark that’s left from the steamer back in Germany. And Aurora can’t help but pull him in closer because that was one of those early memories that she knew he was a good one, that he wasn’t just some rich pop star that had a revolving door of women coming through his hotel rooms. Another knock pulls them away, yet again. And when Aurora opens her eyes she can't help but squint because she has literally sunshine staring back at her. She steps away only a few inches and goes back to what she was meant to be doing. Wiping away the red stain from Harry’s mouth, she avoids his eyes and focuses on the colour disappearing from his skin. 

“Should touch up your lippy,” Harry chuckles when Aurora fully pulls away to toss the dirty makeup wipe in the bin. Aurora takes a look in the mirror and laughs along with him. 

“Yikes, I’ll fix this and meet you out there okay?” 

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?” 

“Of course,” Aurora promises, squeezing his hand. The last bit of the pre show playlist starts to near the end and Aurora wants to find her spot in the audience and she has just one last surprise for Harry before he starts his last show. “I should go find my seat,” she almost whispers, not really wanting to leave him just yet, but time is running out. She reluctantly kisses his cheek, careful not to leave any lipstick behind and pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to him. “Thought I owed you a note,” she says before she begins to walk away. “Good luck!” She blows him one last kiss before walking through a curtain, away from Harry and into the audience.

Harry, 

No words will ever properly describe how proud I am of you. You will forever be my biggest inspiration; from your music to the way kindness is embedded in everything you do. You have changed so many people's lives and I am lucky enough to say that mine is forever changed because I am loved by you. I love you so much. 

You are absolute sunshine. 

Have fun on stage, rockstar. 

Love ya ta bits, Harry Styles. 

All the love. As always, 

Rory

Nobody is there to see it, but his eyes sparkle, even in the dark of the backstage. The sparkle could be a reflection from the already flashing stage lights or it could be another tear trying to make its way out of his eye, it’s hard to tell at this point. He takes a shaky breath and thanks all the rock gods before him for his life. He reads the note one more time before folding it back up and sliding into the pocket at the inside of his jacket and running up the stairs as the opening of Only Angel begins. 

“Good evening, Los Angeles. Welcome to the final show!” Harry speaks for the first time since appearing on the stage. There are chills running down Aurora’s spine as the entire arena erupts in earth shattering screams in reaction to Harry using his own lyrics as an homage to the tour. Aurora keeps catching the faces of fans in the pit and around her when the lights flicker against their tear splotted faces but bright smiles still permanently shine regardless. She can’t even begin to explain the beating of her heart, the fullness of her chest, the tingle in her fingers. It’s truly remarkable that they can hear Harry’s voice at all over everyone singing along to every song. 

As Stockholm Syndrome begins, Aurora smiles even brighter remembering where it all started. The pink suit she had to repair in a quick few minutes and hearing a lone Harry Styles sing a song the world is used to hearing being sung by 5 boys. It’s a moment of shock that jolts Aurora as she stands against the banister and she shakes her head because she’s missing it. Missing Harry give this song his all. Probably the last time he’ll ever perform this song. Cause the next time around he’ll have more of his own music to share and won’t be able to make a disclaimer about only having 10 songs to his own name. 

Alongside Stockholm Syndrome, there’s a list of songs he’ll never perform live again but Aurora does her best not dwell on that because she gets to hear him sing for the rest of her life. 

Sweet Creature and If I Could Fly leave the majority of the audience swaying slowly, still singing along and Harry barely manages to open his eyes. When he does open his eyes it's only for a moment and he’ll catch a glimpse of someone in front of him and he can’t help but stupidly smile. He’s soaking it all in. He wants to remember this feeling. He wants to remember the sound of an echoey arena when the audience sings along gently, completely in unison, filling in the parts he doesn’t sing anymore. They aren’t yelling or screaming the lyrics, but treating them with care, the same way Harry has delivered these lyrics to them every night. He tries to quiet them down and it takes longer than it has any other night. 

“Shh, it’s your turn,” he says with such a calming tone that Aurora stops dead in her tracks. She knows that voice better than anyone and she instantly loses the tingling of nerves in her fingers. She welcomes the calm and closes her eyes for a second. The sound of everyone in the room finishing If I Could Fly for him makes his heart float right up to his throat and it threatens to fall out and explode as the singing continues and he keeps playing his guitar. God, he’ll miss this, he thinks. He finishes the last few lines with the audience and closes his eyes again. He’s really gonna fucking miss this. 

“I’d like to invite my wonderful band up on the stage,” Harry interludes while moving his mic to a new spot and adjusting his guitar. A little surprise for the final show. And yet again, Harry shushes the audience as the excitement of something unique to the Final Show arises. 

I’ve got a girl crush. 

The audience erupts so loudly so quickly it's startling. It's impressive how loud the audience is when they start singing along to a song that hasn’t been on a single set list all tour. The way Harry sings this song in particular reminds Aurora of all the times she gets to hear him sing when he’s on his own, not putting on a show, singing for himself. 

I hate to admit it but, I’ve got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.

This is how he sounds when he’s messing around, having fun, pure undeniable joy while singing. It’s different behind closed doors somehow. He doesn’t mind when his voice cracks, or belts too high and he can’t finish the lyrics or even a single word. He laughs at himself in those moments and Aurora isn’t sure if he’s aware of it when he’s singing around like that. She loves him in those moments, soft and carefree. 

“This is the final night of the tour, of everything,” Harry says after the lights on the audience have turned up and he’s back on the mainstage. He points to a fan in the audience “What’s wrong with you?” He mimics the girl shaking her head, clearly not wanting to come to terms that this is the final show. “Oh you’re just sad?” he asks to confirm. Harry’s voice pitches up, “how do you think I feel?” and the audience erupts in laughter. It's the theme of the evening, being emotional over the final show, being excited to be there. Harry see’s Kacey in the middle of the pit and she’s holding a sign thanking him. Harry praises her from the stage and thanks her in return for joining the tour. 

“We’re gonna sing another song for you now, but before we go any further I will be thanking people along the way. I hope you don’t mind. There are so many people in this audience tonight that quite simply I wouldn’t be on this stage without.” Harry pauses and turns his head in the direction where he knows everyone close to him is at. “All of you, you know who you are. Thank you so much for coming tonight. I love you very much. Thank you for being here with us tonight.” Somehow in a room of thousands of people Harry finds Aurora’s eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he runs on before a quick pause. “And,” he gathers his thoughts again, clearly losing what he was meaning to say or do next, “I’ll see you in a little bit,” he rambles quickly. 

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?”

The simple request rings in Aurora’s head and she misses what he says or does next but when she focuses back in the opening notes give her the gist of what he might have said. 

It’s the song that made him. The beginning of it all, really. Yelling along to these lyrics is anyone's right of passage into the room filled with love and kindness. Aurora knows this song isn’t one that will be performed for it’s last time tonight. It's his anthem as an artist, as Harry Styles. It's the song anyone and everyone knows regardless if you were ever a One Direction or Harry Styles fan. What Makes You Beautiful echoes off the walls and the floor and the ceiling and even though Harry has fully made it his own, changed the octave, changed the backing track, changed the rhythm of the lyrics, every single person that fills The Forum is singing along like it’s the original track. As the audience sings the version they’ve known for 7 years and Harry performs his solo rendition, it’s hard to fight the utter joy that erupts in Aurora’s chest. 

The anthem is completed with Harry dancing around the stage while waving 3 different flags. The image alone ecompases the whole point of this song, the whole point of this tour, the whole entire fucking point of Treat People With Kindness. And right now there’s nothing more Aurora loves than watching Harry dance along to the “na na na’s.” His hair wildly flopping around, the light reflecting off of the gold and silver details, the sight of the ENTIRE pit jumping up and down. 

“Okay, let’s get emotional,” Harry says before asking for the lights up again. “Thank you, this is part of the show where I’m gonna say thank you to a couple people, then I’m gonna sing a song and then I’m gonna leave. We’re gonna all pretend like I’ve gone but 90 seconds later I’m gonna come back and do a couple more songs. Alright?” Screams, nothing but screams fill the room. 

As Harry begins his thank you speech to his crew Aurora just knows. He’s hitting that point where it’s all really sinking in. He’s taking long pauses between words but masking it as needing to take a breather from being out of breath from singing and dancing. Aurora knows, though. She knows he’s pushing back the tears, swallowing down the bittersweetness of it all. 

“Thank you to my friends, my family, my manager, to all who are all in the audience tonight.” And then Harry starts to stutter over his words. “I-I have to thank my Head of Wardrobe that’s been on tour with me since March.” Aurora brings her hands up to her heart because this is the thank you she wasn’t prepared for. “Thank you for making me sparkle just right on stage and for making sure this was always a family show after I ripped several trousers.” And that’s where Harry leaves it. He doesn’t finish the family show bit, but the audience knows enough to finish it for him. 

Aurora’s in shock. It was unexpected and she feels like there’s cotton in her ears as the audience continues to scream and she hears waves of “aw” coming from the fans when they put it together. Jeff claps a hand on Aurora’s shoulder and it brings her back to the moment. Aurora mouths a thank you to Harry on stage while he’s still looking in her direction. 

Harry shakes his head before completing his thank yous to the fans. The ones who made this all possible. 

Sign of the Times hurts. It really truly hurts. The way his vocals are pretty much perfect and there’s almost a pained look on his face as he belts through it. Aurora doesn’t take her eyes off of him the entire time. He feels it too, the heavy emotion of the song. And he knows he’s not crying in a cool way, he’s crying cause this is it for now. This is the last of it. There's no reason to act cool about it. And Aurora can see the sparkle in his eye and it’s not from the rhinestones on his jacket. It’s from the tears that are welling up in his waterline 

And it’s when he snaps his mic back into the stand at center stage, lets out a quick breath through pursed lips, his eyes looking up to the ceiling, that Aurora knows he’s really crying. The quick wipe across his eyes and cheek solidifies the thought. 

We don’t talk enough. We should open up. 

And then there are tears brimming in her eyes. And as he continues to sing Sign of the Times she lets the tears fall for the first time that day. 

“I hope to be seeing you all very soon.” The gritty opening of Kiwi starts and it rattles Aurora’s chest. The last and final song of the tour. Harry blows Aurora a kiss before fully going for it. It's the end and he’s got nothing to lose. 

There’s a sinking feeling when Harry goes for his water bottle once he’s finished singing the last lyric of Kiwi. It’s the end. 

But it seems that it’s not. His band doesn’t stop playing and Harry swallows the last gulp of water he took and launches into Kiwi for a 2nd time. 

Aurora’s jaw drops. She had no idea. He hadn’t told her about this. She wishes she could say she’s surprised that this is something he planned but she really isn’t. When she thinks about it, she should’ve known. 

It’s pure adrenaline coursing through him. There are no words to describe him on stage right now. Carefree or loose doesn’t even cut it. He’s out of breath but STILL dancing around, singing into the mic and engaging with the audience and his band. 

“Holland tunnel for a nose it’s always backed up!” The audience yells when he points the mic towards them unable to finish the line himself. 

And then he snaps his mic into the stand and starts to jog down the stairs and through the aisle. Aurora just laughs cause at this point there’s literally no telling what he does next. A cordless mic appears in his hand halfway down the aisle. 

I’m having your baby!

He appears on the b stage, a spotlight following him the entire time. As Harry dances along to the music Aurora’s hands go into her hair and her eyes widen. She can’t help but shake her head when he changes the lyrics. 

She’s all over me and I'm exhausted, I’m exhausted. Sing it ! 

And he’s running back down the stairs, through the aisle again and up the main stage stairs. Aurora’s still in her spot unable to even dance around or sing along as she watches him. It’s entrancing to watch this all go down in front of her. He catches a sunflower mid air when he’s back on stage. Literally anything could happen at this point. 

Aurora’s sure he’s gonna collapse right there on stage but he doesn’t, yet. He takes a last sip of water and makes his way to center stage for the finale. 

He sticks his tongue out which indicates to the fans that he’s not finished yet, he’s not ending this night just yet. He’s not about to do the signature whale. Instead, he pumps up the crowd, mouthing “make some noise,” and then he motions to Alex, his guitar tech and the rest of his sound crew that are at the side of the stage. Aurora catches him yelling “I’m exhausted,” to them but still turns away and walks back to center stage. He makes eye contact with each of his band mates and circles a hand around above his head to indicate One More Time. He raises up his pointer finger to Mitch, “one more time” he mouths at him. 

“Should we do it one more time?” Harry yells. 

Earth shattering screams are the response and Aurora thinks all the times before when she thought that she’s never heard such a deafening audience she was wrong. Because now, in this moment at The Forum with Harry asking the audience if he should do Kiwi for a 3rd time she knows it’s the loudest thing she’s ever heard in her entire life. The sound will ring in her ears for days. 

And so he goes for it again. A third time. Now she’s in shock. 

She worked her wait through a cheap pack of cigarettes, 

Hard liquor mixed with a little bit of intellect

And all the boys they were saying she was into it

Such a pretty-

He’s well and truly out of breath. The look on his face is helpless. “Sing it,” he manages to breathe out into the mic before almost doubling over. So instead of taking the mic with him and trying to muster through the vocals, he leaves the mic snapped in and walks away from it. He’s mouthing the lyrics as every single person in the audience yells them to him. He’s walking back and forth from stage left to stage right, making sure to give enough of himself to every single person in the room. 

The shock has slightly worn off and there’s a hint of concern weighing on Aurora but she still sings along with everyone. He ends up singing some of the chorus but he really can’t get through much of it on his own. He doesn’t finish a single line himself the rest of the song but he doesn’t care, nobody cares. Even though he can't muster up the energy or adrenaline to sing he doesn’t stop dancing. He’s tangling himself up in his mic cord and Aurora hopes he’s got enough luck and adrenaline left in him to not fall. 

And now she’s all over me, it’s like I paid for it, It’s like I paid for it,  I'm gonna pay for this. 

He drops to his knees center stage, head hanging low. It's a quick second of pure exhaustion before he’s bobbing his head around, hair flying and arms pumping. 

Finally, as Kiwi comes to an end for the 3rd time that night, he takes a sip of water and gives the final show. He sprays water into the air, the music blares out and the lights flare. 

“I’m gonna go get him,” Aurora tells Jeff before leaving their section. She moves through the pit as Harry is hugging his band once the music ends. She understands now, the last thing he said to her before getting on stage. The look on his face when he goes to hug Mitch says it all. Aurora waits backstage near the stage steps, watching Harry, Mitch, Sarah, Clare and Adam take their final bow. She hugs Harry’s bandmates as they come down the stairs one at a time. Harry is taking one more lap of the stage before he is walking off, a stark contrast from how he normally runs off the stage after all of his other shows. When he reaches the stairs he walks down slowly and lets out a big sigh, shoulders dropping and a hopeless look appears on his face as his feet hit the floor. Aurora feels like she can’t move fast enough towards him even though she’s not even 2 feet from the stairs. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, his face instantly finding a home hiding in her neck. A sob racks through his chest and she reaches up to place a hand in his hair. He’s breathing heavily and she’s running her hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his curls. Harry wraps his arms around her waist, his grip getting tighter every second they stand there.  

“Hey, Sunshine,” Aurora says softly, her hands making their way to Harry’s cheeks, so she can look him in the eyes. Once she makes out his face in the dark, she can see that his eyes are already swelling up from the tears that are now consistently flowing down his cheeks. “Hey,” she coos at him, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears from the top of his cheeks. Aurora’s heart breaks at the sight in front of her but she knows she needs to be his rock right now. She can be sad about this tour ending later. She can be emotional about how proud she is of Harry, later. Aurora kisses him softly, fitting their lips together perfectly, just as they always do. The kiss is a bit more wet than normal, from the tears still falling down Harry’s face. When they break apart, he offers her a small smile before there’s a laugh erupting from him. He takes his hands from her waist and uses the back of his hands to wipe at his eyes roughly. 

“That was the final show,” he says softly. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, her hands reaching to grab for his, “you did it, Rockstar.” He drops his head onto Aurora’s shoulder again. He’s utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally.  “Come on, let’s go get you some water and I’m pretty sure you’ve got some friends that wanna say congrats.”  She drops his hands and wraps one arm around his waist and he throws one over her shoulder as they make their way to the double doors that lead them to the dressing rooms and lounges. 

“Thanks for being there when I got off,” he says as he presses a kiss to her hair, “knew I was barely gonna make it to the end.” 

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

It’s a weird feeling, pulling every single suit from the wardrobe cases. It’s a weird feeling to be around while the stage gets taken down. They never stayed long enough after a show night to see it get taken down, Aurora’s only ever seen it being built night after night. It’s stupidly therapeutic and symbolic Aurora thinks to herself as she checks off another item of clothing on her list. 

She really doesn’t have to be organizing Harry’s suits right now. She doesn’t need to be taking inventory at this exact moment. This could easily wait till tomorrow afternoon. But Harry’s been lingering around the Forum since his last guest left. He’s completely sober even after the several drinks he tossed back with friends in the backstage lounge in celebration. Everyone’s left besides the crew. Harry can’t pull himself together enough to leave and accept that tour is over. That this era is over. 

“I’m gonna go away for awhile. I’m gonna make some more music and I will see you again very soon.”

The 2 sentences echo in his head. The hitch in his throat comes back every time he thinks about it. He’s having a hard time saying goodbye to this. He’s never loved the end of tour. It’s too bittersweet. The performing bit is his favourite part of his job. This time though, it's more bitter than sweet because he doesn't have to go running back home to fit in all the time with his loved ones. The past 2 years have been on his terms. He doesn’t have to hectically plan visits or vacations. He gets to take his time. Go stay with his mum for a month if he wants, travel with Gemma and Michael, visit his god children, freaking write music whenever he wants, whenever the inspiration comes about. 

Harry knows the inspiration won’t be hard to find. He takes a glance over at Rory. Her tongue is poking out between her lips in concentration as she examines another one of his suits. He can’t help the blush that rises to his cheeks as he watches her. His Rory. He knows in the back of his mind that he’ll have to say goodbye to her more than he would like in the next couple of months. More goodbyes than they’ve ever shared in the past 5. That’s what makes this more bitter than sweet. 

Harry just sits on one of the crates as he chats with his crew. It’s the most genuine time he’s been able to spend with them but he knows these people, his tour family. He asks a few about how their wives are doing and when the due dates are of their babies. He jokes about hoping he didn’t work them too hard and to expect a call from him in the future to pack it all up again and get on with another tour. Harry’s laughter echoes through the emptying arena and every so often it pulls Aurora from her concentration. She catches his eyes sometimes and she can’t help but smile. And in the bright overhead lights of the almost empty arena, the brightest light is the one smiling back at her. Harry’s tear streaked face, unruly curls and dimpled cheeks are the only thing that she can focus on. 

Aurora now stands near the door that leads back to the dressing rooms, her wardrobe cases ready to be packed up and dealt with later. She watches as Harry continues to shake every single person’s hand. He thanks everyone individually, even approaches the Forum’s cleaning staff that are weaving in and out of the seats. Every few thank you’s he looks back at her, his Rory. His Rory who has been his rock, his best friend, his stylist, his lover. There are too many words to describe his Rory but also not enough. He doesn’t think he could’ve made it through this tour without her and he’s so fucking thankful. 

When he finally joins Aurora in the doorway he presses a sure kiss to her forehead, their hands tangling together. They don’t say anything as they walk back through the now empty halls back to Harry’s car parked on the other side of the arena. Harry’s lost in his head and so is Aurora and neither of them need to say anything to each other at this moment. 

Harry can’t grasp how he’s supposed to explain to Aurora that he didn’t expect her to have this amount of an impression on him. Didn’t expect her to change his entire life. How does he explain to her that he doesn’t think he could’ve done all that he’s done since March without her? How does he show her that she means that much to him? 

Harry doesn’t know, but Aurora's thoughts line up almost perfectly with his.

And as they get into his car, buckle their seatbelts and make their way home Harry doesn’t turn on the music and Aurora simply reaches for his hand to anchor herself to this moment. It’s way too late at night, or maybe by this point too early in the morning but when Aurora looks at Harry, it all comes flooding back to her. 

Sunshine in its purest form is sitting next to her. When Harry catches Aurora’s gaze before driving out of the parking lot he remembers all the things they’ve done, all the things they’ve seen and he can’t help but be excited for what will happen next. 

He can't’ wait to see the colours she’ll shine just for him, his own Aurora Borealis. 

She doesn’t have to go a day without sunshine. 

Who knew that a pink Gucci suit would have started all of this. 

🖤🖤🖤

[phoebehalliwell]

If Prue had lived, what do you think her kids would have been like, and how do you think they would have affected the various power level structures of the next gen?

okay so i think there are a couple options based on who’s the father of the child that would yield different results so in a very me fashion imma make this a very long post and break down all of them. this is 2.5k. it’s going under a cut.

andy so i think had andy not died he and prue would have definitely gotten married first i would say somewhere around the season 2 finale maybe the penultimate episode to end on a sweet high note while still setting up season 3 or something i think he and prue would have their first child ehh probably announced in the s3 finale. i think she’d be a girl i think she’d be a telekinetic like her mama and i think her name would definitely be patricia (and i wanna say in her teenage years she’d go by trix) i think her powers would definitely grow to advanced telekinesis by the time she’s of a fighting age. if i were writing her i would give her a gradual power development of like telekinetically lifting herself up in fights (like what we sometimes saw prue do) to levitation to flight if i wanna get really jiggy w it). i would think prue would definitely want multiple kids (ideally three daughters) and i think andy would definitely Also want sorta that white picket fence family. i think that piper and leo would still be pregnant at the end of season four, with prue’s second pregnancy occuring around beginning to mid season five. i also think about halfway through prue’s second pregnancy she and andy would choose to move out into their own home bc well let’s face it the manor’s a lil crowded (paige is also here in the au don’t ask me how). so wyatt matthews halliwell would be born in february prue and andy would probably move out in april their second child would be born hmm let’s say september. a girl named hmm it has to be a p name i’m firm on that but i don’t really wanna go penelope bc then i feel like it’s too locked in to a naming after ancestors thing but like also it would still be a very prue name & prue is already named after her ancestors so what the hell i’ll name her penelope. let’s talk powers. baby wyatt will keep his whitelighter based powers such as an orb shield, orbing, and healing, but he won’t be a telekinetic. he still has the power of projection. the twice blessed isn’t a thing. penelope i think would be the molecular witch, with powers of molecular deceleration & acceleration (but not freezing or combustion) as well as the ability to adjust her own molecular structure and “phase” (a la kitty pryde from xmen). next in the halliwell line would be chris who would still be born in october of 03 with powers of orbing, telekinesis, and telekinetic orbing, followed then by andy and prue’s third daughter born in utopia in s7 lemme go check the family tree for names there aren’t actually that many p names on there so now i guess lemme make one up one that sounds appropriately vintage like okay so i personally hc p bowen (prue’s past life) to be named pearl, p baxter as pauline, and p russel as phyllis out of all of those i think i’d chose pearl okay so i googled 19th century baby names p names i found were parthena permilia philippa pamela patience and priscilla. okay so i’m actually deciding now that the name philippa comes from andy’s side of the family and that’s the name of the third daughter who will follow suit with the charmed one’s schtick and have premonitions, which includes both precognition and retrocognition, as well as clairvoyance and limited telepathy (she’s basically a human lie detector, but if she actually wants to hear someone’s thoughts, she was to have physical contact and be in a quasi-meditative state). piper be pregnant with melinda at the end of s8, melinda’s powers would be empathy along with the whitelighter powers of healing orbing and photokinesis. next would be the twins tam and kat who would still split molecular combustion and immobilization as well as the whitelighter powers basically i wouldn’t change their powers from what they already have henry jr is also here, still a mortal. pj would not be named pj as Prue Isn’t Dead but i think phoebe would still really wanna stick with the p names. since prue’s already burned through the family tree i think she’d pick a more modern name (and i’m sticking with the gender neutral theme all of phoebe’s kids have) so like percy pax pemberley i’m also really tempted by pisces. hmm. pemberly. who i’d give astral projection and then also um well possession. like yeah y’know projecting her astral form into somebody else and being able to like read them while in their bodies all that. parker stays with premonition and uhh i just recently came up with a power progression for parker that i would love to employ but like i think i really wanna keep it a secret for now but i might end up talking about it later peyton would still be a telekinetic and all three cupitches can still beam and sense love. okay!

jack jack gets an obligatory section bc he was one of the few love interests to last more than one episode but uhh that baby would definitely be a whoopsie! or should i say,,, babies that’s right it’s twins. and i don’t think prue and jack would together romantically but i think they’d still be like y’know friends i think jack would be there to support prue & his kids but i do think prue would be the primary caregiver i think jack would maybe get them like on weekends or like every third week of the month. and i’m Really tempted to give them last name first names and have the kids be names warren and sheridan and Yes they’d be both boys. i sorta wanna melinda warren both of em and just like. give em all three powers what the hell. given that it’s so many powers stacked in one witch i don’t think their powers would ever greatly develop i don’t think there’d be any advanced telekinesis or molecular combustion or like astral premonitions but i do think they have all three powers. and they are identical. so they’re both born in 2000, flash foward to 2002 wyatt is born wyatt matthew halliwell with orbing, orb sheild, healing, telekinetic orbing, and telekinesis. cut forward to 2004 piper has her second child who is in this reality a girl, with orbing, molecular combustion/immobilization, & invisibility. her name would be melinda christina halliwell. i think we can fast forward the timeline a bit i think the piper and leo would have their third child at the end of s8 another boy named john after grams’s maiden name, orbing, premonition, levitation. i feel like cosmically we’ve already filled our twin quotient so no tam & kat in this universe so paige and henry only have one kid a daughter i always pick from shakespeare baby names for not!tam&kat bc like. they’ve got shakespeare names. in the past i’ve used isabel and beatrice this time i’m gonna go for jourdain who has the power of projection, as well as the whitelighter power of omnilingualism. henry & paige still end up accidentally adopting a mortal in this au, but here she’s a girl, so instead of making the henry jr joke henry calls her paige jr the name sticks she goes by pj. cupitches once again we’re going pemberley parker and peyton and once again i’m sticking with the same power set from the andy timeline.

bane okay so give me a sign they have sex prue is pregnanté bane is in jail. charges of racketeering, tax evasion, money laundering and embezzlement, but like okay he’s a career criminal, meaning their notoriously hard to catch. and i think he’s have a good lawyer. max sentence for racketeering is 20 years, tax evasion 5, money laundering 20, embezzlement 3. i’m not a law student i don’t know shit about like,, douple jeopardy all that but like. imma say sentenced to ten years in jail let out in 7 on good behavior + they’re all nonviolent crimes so. is that how it works? okay but basically baby #1 prolly a sagittarius born in 2000. i’m saying girl. i think again like with the jack situation this really isn’t prue’s white picket fence family this is strange and rebellious and unprecedented meaning it’s not guaranteed to be a “p” name but nothing’s like. immediately coming to mind. i feel like it has to be a name that captures prue’s rebellious spirit and the sorta intense passion she keeps below the surface so i wanna go for something outta left field. i also feel like prue cares a lot about the meaning / origin of her baby name so i’m gonna pick from a list of witches of myth. hecate’s obvi out as she’s a demon in charmed verse so i’m thinking circe or freyja. i feel like circe’s more associate with turning men into pigs than anything else so i’m gonna settle with freyja who’s technically a goddess and not a witch but like. minutia. i’m giving her the same power set as patricia / trix which is advance telekinesis + eventual flight. yada yada yada baby wyatt chris & melinda are born, powers as in canon (including empathy for melinda which is in fact Not Canon but like canon in my heart). tamora and kat are born, powers as in canon, bane is out of jail, pemberley is born, astral projection + possession, henry jr is there, prue and bane have another kid in ‘08, a girl (i’m sticking with the badass women of myth theme) named atalanta, nicknamed tal rhymes with the cal in calorie. yes i know i’m very white. powers of molecular immobilization & cryokinesis. next born in 09 cupitch parker still with cupid powers and premonition, then prue and bane’s third daughter born in 2010 (i’m telling you bane def has that like white picket fence adoring family dream. he frickin loves kids & like dutifully drives them to ballet practice every day after school type thing. loves the idea of being able to yell “honey! i’m home!” total sap) her name’s probs gonna be like. morrigan. her powers are a riff on the premonition aspect of thee power of three, she can pick up on “psychic reverb” and sense if a great act of magic has happened somewhere as well as sense great good, great evil, and immense power. also with the her psychic power she can mark crossroads and tell if a decision is about to be altering, though she can’t sense which outcome is the “best”. finally baby peyton still a telekinetic cupitch born in 2011.

justin congrats, bud. the only other prue love interest to make it past a single episode. too bad we really don’t know shit about this guy. simp? we can assume? yeah so in this timeline they come together basically when piper & leo are getting married so in this timeline we are still getting wyatt first with all his canonically op self. then we’re getting chris, same as in canon i guess i feel like he should have more powers give him combustive orbing what the fuck why not. okay so like maybe ‘03-’04 prue and justin move out / move in together, married by late ’04 (just before utopia in s7). they have their first daughter in 2005 still s7 once again named patricia and she’s a telekinetic like prue. we’ll push melinda up to ’06 still an empath + other whitelighter powers & tlk orb. 2007 will have both tam & kat with their canon powers, followed by penelope with cryokinesis, closed out with pemberley with astral projection. jump to 09 parker born with premonition in spring and i said philippa was an andy’s family name so patience in the fall. and she can uhh same thing as morrigan she’s psychic. 2011 the final baby is born it’s peyton telekinetic + cupitch powers as always. henry jr is also here placed where he normally is (slightly younger than pj/pemberley)

bonus round!dency addition okay so idk if i’ve said this before but i’ve actually sorted out dency’s relatives in her world one sec i gotta pull up the google doc okay dency born first only child the source’s heir next up is melinda penelope “penn” halliwell the only child of leo & piper aka the twice blessed followed by paige’s sons taran & kai, twins, the ultimate power. but now prue’s in the mix! i’m pairing her with andy bc that was her most significant relationship. as previously stated i think prue and andy’s first child would be born in early season four as patricia, same powers as stated earlier with advanced telekinesis & flight. dency technically would no longer be named dency in this au as once again, prue is not dead. she would be named victoria after her grandfather. same powers that she already holds (pyrokinesis, cryokinesis, flaming, limited telepathy (only the lie detector part) & super strength). her power rivals that of patricia’s despite not being the first born in the generation bc she was infused with the source. she would be born early s5. then keeping with the timeline piper & leo’s firstborn comes mid s5, another girl named melinda. melinda’s powers are orbing, molecular immobilization, and advanced healing. at this point prue is Pregnant Again and calls dibs on the name penelope so that does not become melinda’s middle name. in the dency au coop shows up earlier, which in turn accelerates paige and henry ending up together because i said so. piper is pregnant at the beginning of s6. prue and andy have their second daughter penelope, paige and henry get together, piper and leo have their second daughter christina. s6 ends. penelope gets molecular deceleration & acceleration. christina has orbing, telekinesis, & an orb shield. s7. whoops paige is pregnant. hey it’s twins! tamora & kat. tamora is the physical while kat is the spiritual. tamora can orb, telekinetically orb, and has normal telekinesis. kat has premonitions, clairvoyance, and omnilingualism. s8. prue gets pregnant again at some point. season finale. philippa is born. she can astral project, and will later develop suggestion. piper is pregnant again. it’s still 2006.  now it’s 2007. piper’s baby is born. it’s a boy??? meet baby john. an empath. omnilingual. can orb. henry jr also shows up. at this point it’s been like 5 years since phoebe’s traumatic incident with cole / the source and she decides she wants to have kids again. she and coop have their first daughter in 2008, a girl they name leona. cupid powers of beaming & sensing love, and levitation that will eventually develop into flight. limited precognition. 2010. they have another child, this time a boy, warren. beaming, sensing love, telekinesis, telekinetic beaming. 2011 they final baby of the generation is born, phoebe and coop’s daughter let’s call her charlotte. she doesn’t have molecular immobilization, that magic mix with a cupid’s control over time. she has temporal stasis (& beaming & sensing love) 

[fmbishop]

*  I'VE   GOT   MY   VEINS   ALL   TANGLED   CLOSE . 

                       *      ╰         chicago’s   very   own  𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩  has   been   spotted   on   madison   avenue   driving   a   1960   vintage   jeep   bronco   ,   welcome   !   your   resemblance   to   𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒔𝒐𝒏   𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒏   is   unreal   .   according   to   tmz   ,   you   just   had   your   twenty   -   first      birthday   bash   .   your   chance   of   surviving   new   york   is   uncertain   because   you’re            𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉   ,   but   being   𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕   might   help   you   .   i   think   being   a   taurus   explains   that   .      3   things   that   would   paint      a      better   picture   of   you   would   be         𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒅   𝒔𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅   𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑   𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒆   ,   𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌   𝒄𝒊𝒓𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔   𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉   𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅   𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔   ,   &   𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔   𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒔   𝒓𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒅   𝒓𝒂𝒘   .            (   i   cut   ties   with   my   best   friend   and   collaborator   because   i   was   secretly   in   love   with   her   ,   but   our   publicist   had   her   date   my   brother   instead   .   )      &   (   cis   male   +   he   /   him   )   +   (   ruby   ,   18+   ,   she   /   her   ,   pst   )


𝒊       .        𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔       .

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆   :   elijah   alexander   bishop 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔   :      eli   ,   e   .   from   his   loved   ones   ,   he   recieves   variations   on   ellie   ,   ugly   ass   mustache   head   ,   tony   hawk   ,   and   zumiez   employee   of   the   month   . 𝒂𝒈𝒆   :      twenny   -   won 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄   :   taurus 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏   :   professional   skateboarder   and   youngest   x   games   gold   medalist   in   history   ,   brand   ambassador   for   several   skate   fashion   brands   ,   established   youtube   vlogger   ,   and   aspiring   filmmaker   . 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓   𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚   /   𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔   :   cis   male   /   he   him   his 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏   :   heterosexual   ,   heteroromantic 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕   :   5’11 𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒔   :   the   black   sheep   ,   the   despondent   ,   the   fallen   angel   ,   the   isolato   ,   the   intangible   concept   ,   the   dirtbag   ,   the   doryphore 𝒌𝒆𝒚         𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔      :      -   churlish   ,   emotionally   reserved   ,   hesitant   ,   resentful   ,   self   -   sabotaging +   steadfast   ,   benevolent   ,   chivalrous   ,   reliable   ,   down   to   earth   𝒉𝒐𝒈𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔   𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆   :      hufflepuff 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈   𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔   :   that’s   on   me   -   mac   miller   /   obstacle   1   -   interpol   /   just   my   luck   -   marc   e   bassy   &   blackbear   /   EARFQUAKE   -   tyler   the   creator /   superfast   jellyfish   -   gorillaz   /   here   comes   a   feeling   -   louis   the   child   /   horseshoes   and   handgrenades   -   green   day  /   boys   don’t   cry   -   the   cure   /   SUGAR   -   brockhampton  /   slow   dancing   in   the   dark   -   joji   /   come   back   to   earth   -   mac   miller   /   swing   ,   swing   -   the   all   american   rejects  

𝒊𝒊       .    𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚    .

harold   and   lillian   bishop   welcome   the   heirs   to   the   bishop   throne   on   an   early   may   morning   .   ceo   of   the   multi-billion   dollar   bishop   industries   construction   empire   ,   and   partner   of   the   bishop   &   franklin   international   law   firm   respectively   ,   the   boys   enter   into   the   shadow   of   a   last   name   prepared   to   build   onto   its   own   legacy   .   eli   comes   into   the   light   moments   after   his   brother   ,   a   hand   firmly   grasped   onto   the   ankle   of   his   twin   ,   victorious   to   emerge   into   the   world   first   .   parallel   to   the   biblical   brothers   jacob   and   esau   ,   his   nurse   notes   ,   but   his   parents   pay   no   mind   .   on   the   whim   of   a   meaningless   sequence   ,   the   elder   twin   is   delegated   as   the   champion   of   the   bishop   legacy   ,   to   bear   the   weight   of   their   family   empire   and   its   subsequent   legacy   on   his   shoulders   with   pride   .

elijah   ,   on   the   heel   of   his   brother   ,      isaiah   ,   by   a   mere   fraction   of   a   second   ,   bears   the   weight   of   his   second-coming   due   to   such   a   christening   for   the   rest   of   his   upbringing   .

the   black   sheep   is   perhaps   too   delicate   of   a   phrasing   to   explain   the   conflict   stirring   daily   in   the   bishop   household   ,   a   family   of   perfection   —   and   elijah   ,   the   foil   to   them   all   ,   a   failure   by   definition   ,   perhaps   crafted   simply   to   emphasize   the   feats   of   his   twin   brother   .   he’s   smaller   ,   scrawnier   ,   slower   to   pick   up   school   work   and   requiring   relentless   tutoring   and   support   throughout   his   elementary   school   years   .   sensitive   and   introverted   ,   he   spends   the   first   decade   of   his   life   cowering   behind   isaiah   as   a   shield   ,   receiving   constant   critiques   of   not   enough   ,   not   good   enough   ,   not   close   enough   to   —

he   tries   not   to   focus   on   his   shortcomings   ,   as   plentiful   as   his   parents   may   convince   him   that   there   may   be   .   any   expression   other   than   a   stoic   compliance   is   seen   as   contumacious   ,   swiftly   corrected   with   a   ‘   i   wish   you   would   be   more   like   your   brother   .   ’      eli   withers   into   himself   shortly   after   his   12th   birthday   ,   the   onset   of   puberty   and   a   discovery   for   a   natural   athletic   inclination   giving   him   some   semblance   of   musculature   ,   his   jaw   sharpening   and   gaze   taking   a   similar   harshness   .   his   body   becomes   a   fortress   ,   the   only   protection   he   can   implement   as   his   brother   begins   to   split   from   him   ,   taking   on   more   responsibility   as   the   twins   are   brought   increasingly   into   the   spotlight   of   their   family   name   and   fortune   .

each   moment   harboring   a   critique   only   stokes   resentment   behind   each   clenched   jaw   and   tight   lipped   smile   eli   has   to   fake   .   he   knows   its   all   for   show   ,   his   brother   is   the   only   true   heir   written   into   their   legacy   regardless   of   what   path   he   chooses   to   take   .   bearing   the   weight   of   a   whole   family   tree   of   disappointment   ,   eli   takes   on   odd   hobbies   and   begins   to   compose   bits   and   pieces   of   himself   as   the   him   he   wants   to   be   ,   dismantling   the   illusion   composed   by   expectations   to   mirror   his   infallible   brother   .   by   13   ,   his   secretive   hobby   becomes   an   increasingly   viable   career   in   skateboarding   ,   by   17   ,   he’s   hired   his   own   agent   and   moves   out   on   his   own   to   escape   the   increasing   burdens   of   being   the   bishop   legacy   disappointment   .   his   parents   all   but   excommunicate   him   ,   and   he   spends   spans   of   month-long   silences   between   them   with   only   his   brother   to   bridge   such   gaps   .   eli   is   gnarled   and   hidden   away   from   the   glitz   and   glamour   he   had   grown   so   comfortable   with   ,   navigating   his   shattered   self-image   and   desire   to   amount   to   something   entirely   on   his   own —   but   at   the   very   least   ,   he’s   free   .

it’s   a   tabloid’s   dream   ,   the   black   sheep   of   the   bishop   family   ,   reuniting   with   his   herd   for   their   move   to   new   york   .   eli   is   resentful   and   bitter   at   the   idea   of   uprooting   himself   ,   but   it’s   his   brother’s   impassioned   pleas   of   a   reunion   that   soften   eli’s   resolve   and   cause   the   young   skateboarding   sensation   to   follow   the   rest   of   his   distant   family   to   new   york   .   his   brother   assures   him   with   honeyed   promises   of   a   family   reunited   ,   a   change   of   heart   of   their   parents’      callousness   ,   a   desire   to   see   the   bishops   as   one   .     their   father’s   upcoming   retirement   and   a   supposed   reflection   on   the   cruelty   imposed   on   his   brother   are   all   cited   as   reasons   why   eli   should   just   come   with   them   .      and   eli   ,   hardened   and   bitter   to   all   but   the   implorations   of   his   brother   (   and   perhaps   a   gnawing   desire   for   some   sort   of   familial   validation   after   a   lifetime   of   being   dubbed   the   disappointment   ,   )   begrudgingly   follows   through   .

their   parents   do   not   .

it   awakens   a   particular   emotion   within   eli   to   see   his   parents   for   the   first   time   in   nearly   2   years   and   be   received   with   the   same   coldness   he   had   been   seen   off   with   at   their   last   meeting   .   backhanded   compliments   follow   fronthanded   insults   and   it   ends   with   eli   and   his   father   in   a   screaming   match   ,   fingers   jabbed   dangerously   into   chests   and   tempers   on   full   blare   .   the   betrayal   comes   not   from   a   set   of   parents   who   didn’t   want   him   —   eli   knew   it   was   entirely   too   good   to   be   true   to   be   taken   as   the   prodigal   son   .   the   betrayal   ,   he   laments   ,   is   in   the   falsities   told   by   his   brother   ,   the   one   person   who   had   spent   so   long   protecting   him   and   had   now   allowed   him   to   walk   without   guard   into   the   lion’s   den   .   eli   knows   his   brother   had   nothing   but   the   best   of   intentions   and   keeps   him   as   the   sole   bishop   contact   :   this   is   the   last   he   talks   to   his   parents   after   years   of   torment   .

they   stay   in   new   york   together   and   fill   their   time   with   work   and   the   occasional   youtube   video   at   the   behest   of   their   management   ,   random   vlogs   that   surprisingly   take   off   .   the   bishop   twins   become   something   of   an   internet   sensation   —   isaiah   a   charming   and   composed   law   student   ,   eli   a   brooding   and   unkempt   skater   boy   ,   with   a   dynamic   that   viewers   are   quick   to   fall   in   love   with   .   they   turn   out   content   on   a   regular   basis   ,   building   a   fanbase   through   their   vlogs   that   begs   for   collaborations   and   ‘   linking   up   .   ‘   they   go   through   the   motions   of   collabs   until   one   particular   set   of   youtubers   have   a   chemistry   with   the   twins   that   their   fans   eat   up   .   quickly   hired   to   the   same   management   team   ,   the   bishops   create   a   mini   vlog   squad   with   their   friends   ,   a   dynamic   that   finds   eli   more   emotionally   invested   than   he’d   care   to   admit   .   but   forever   the   self   -   saboteur   ,   he   keeps   himself   from   admitting   these   feelings   to   their   collaborator   ,   repressing   them   until   an   email   from   their   publicist   reveals   plans   to   have   her   date   isaiah   for   the   sake   of   views   .

eli   ,   despite   having   kept   his   feelings   from   practically   everyone   in   his   life   ,   takes   the   move   personally   and   cuts   off   all   work   with   their   collaborator   ,   the   ensuing   drama   being   enough   to   keep   his   publicist   happy   despite   whatever   happens   between   her   and   his   brother   .   their   group   goes   back   to   being   a   duo   ,   a   secret   for   eli   to   keep   perhaps   to   his   grave   ,   and   he   pushes   to   forge   on   with   creating   a   name   for   himself   out   of   the   shadow   of   his   family   .

(   um   for   context   slash   anyone   who   knew   version   one   of   eli   we’re   gonna   say   he   got   sick   of   the   celeb   world   and   went   backpacking   through   southern   asia   w   no   phone   n   no   outside   contacts   ,   just   recently   returned   to   ny   after   the   past   2   months   of   isolation   !   )

𝒊𝒊𝒊       .       𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

i’m   so   excited   to   bring   eli   back   .   …      i   love   wealthy   sm   lemme   give   y’all   a   few   bullets   for   the   rundown   of   the   uglie   mean   sk8r   boi   that   u   should   all   say   ‘   see   u   l8r   boi   ‘

as   the   bio   implies   ,   he   had   a   really   tough   upbringing   in   the   shadow   of   his   perfect   brother   .   a   lot   of   his   parents’   cruelty   resulted   in   the   personality   he   has   now   .

eli   is   most   known   for   his   resentment   of   wealth   and   fame   .   in   the   celeb   world   ,   he’s   always   known   as   the   one   who’s   just   a   normal   guy   .   super   down   to   earth   and   constantly   critiquing   ppl   who   let   the   fame   get   to   their   head

in   a   way   ,   he   gets   this   weird   sense   of   superiority   that’s   super   hypocritical   ?   like   he   thinks   he’s   better   than   the   rich   ppl   bc   he   doesn’t   act   boujie   ..   .   .   .   but   ?   he’s   rich   too   ?   just   bc   ur   chinos   r   ripped   doesnt   make   u   better   than   anyone   else   u   dumb   bitch

super   ,   and   i   cannot   emphasize   this   enough   ,   SUPER   emotionally   constipated   .   he   acts   like   he’s   above   it   all   to   serve   as   his   defense   mechanism   bc   on   the   real   he’s   terrified   of   being   rejected   by   people   the   way   his   own   parents   rejected   him   .   his   solution   ?   if   u   act   like   u   don’t   give   a   shit   ,   nobody   can   hurt   u   .

if   he’s   not   angry   ranting   ,   he’s   honestly   p   stoic   .   nobody   knows   what   he’s   thinkin   or   feelin   which   is   how   he   likes   it   .   it   gets   real   annoying   when   he   keeps   playing   the   cool   disconnected   guy   n   ur   like   ‘   what   do   u   want   for   lunch   ‘   n   he’s   like   ‘   i   dont   give   a   fuck   ‘   n   ur   like   ‘   we   know   dumbass   edgelord   we   still   gotta   EAT   tho   ‘

on   that   ranting   note   ,   he’s   usually   pretty   reserved   and   calm   during   things   like   interviews   or   talking   to   fans   .   when   he’s   in   touchier   situations   ,   his   defense   mechanism   is   to   switch   to   his   hairpin   trigger   hostility   .

ig   he   feels   like   he   has   something   to   prove   by   being   the   tough   guy   so   he   just   ?   gets   mad   super   easily   instead   of   processing   his   feelings   like   a   normal   person   ?   he   detaches   himself   from   his   emotions   bc   he   has   a   really   fucked   sense   of   self   -   worth   and   has   an   eternal   belief   he’s   not   worthy   of   happiness   so   he’ll   sabotage   himself   to   no   end

shockingly   sensitive   and   will   hold   onto   his   pain   as   if   to   fuel   him   .   he   takes   disloyalty   personally   and   will   often   hold   onto   abandonment   or   slights   that   happened   years   ago   because   they   genuinely   affected   him   ,   even   if   he   didn’t   show   so   at   the   time   .

in   terms   of   the   celeb   life   :   he’s   p   low   key   .   isn’t   much   of   a   partier   bc   he   has   social   anxiety   sdfsd   but   he’s   comfy   sipping   a   beer   on   the   patio   as   long   as   everyone   else   stays   inside   lmao   .   he’s   cool   w   hookups   but   isn’t   actively   sleeping   around   ?   like   he   could   prob   live   like   a   fuckboy   but   rlly   surprises   u   when   he   doesn’t   do   the   fuckboy   thing   ..   …   .   it’s   the   sensitive   boy   in   him   or   somethin   idk..   .   ..   mayb   he   just   can’t   care   enough   ..   ..      it’s   the   apathy   …   .

when   he’s   not   seeing   red   ,   he’s   rational   man   meant   to   BUST   everyone’s   stupidity   .   usually   the   only   mfer   w   common   sense   in   the   squad   to   plan   ahead   n   shit   but   if   someone   pushes   his   homies   ?   eli   comes   out   SWINGING   n   then   avoids   all   the   tabloids   about   him   sloppy   fighting   in   the   club   like   he’s   mariah   carey   n   can’t   read   or   somethin

cannot   flirt   for   the   life   of   him   ,   says   dumb   shit   like   ‘   u   smell   nice   ‘   and   hopes   his   muscles   do   all   the   talking   lmao   fuckin   BEEFCAKE

on   the   real   ,   when   he’s   calm   n   collected   he   can   be   surprisingly   sweet   and   this   is   when   the   down   to   earth   comes   in   .   doesn’t   get   attached   to   many   but   to   the   few   he   does   ,   he   defends   to   the   end   and   is   the   type   to   sacrifice   whatever   it   is   to   protect   them   .   this   mans   LOVES   his   friends   and   ppl   are   surprised   to   see   how   kind   he   can   b   bc   he’s   usually   masking   his   kindness   with   his   brutishness   lmao   .      

he’s   also   ?   surprisingly   funny   ?   we’ll   see   abt   that   tho   bc   most   of   his   shit   is   deadpan

most   of   the   time   :   just   fuckin   .   mean   as   hell   sdfsdf

anarchist   mfer   !   he   said   FUCK   the   system   ,   it’s   a   big   skate   energy   and   he   tries   to   be   as   creative   and   undefined   as   possible   .   follows   random   whims   as   he   learns   to   be   less   self   conscious   bc   now   he’s   his   own   brand   and   doesn’t   have   to   always   think   about   ‘   whats   best   for   the   family   ’   and   all   that   bs   !   he’s   rlly   passionate   abt   skate   culture   and   originality   and   is   a   really   big   outspoken   feminist  /  social   activist    bc   what’s   more   punk   than   dismantling   the   patriarchy  and  other  oppressive  power   structures  ?

on   that   note   .   lowkey   .   a   simp   KWHRJWE   he   acts   hard   and   won’t   let   any   man   come   after   him   but   he’s   afraid   2   be   mean   to   girls   n   lets   most   of   his   female   friends   bully   him   while   he   does   the   office   stare   in2   the   camera   .

i   always   stick   random   blurbs   downhere   but   the   mans   is   vegan   ,   cares   more   about   his   car   than   anything   ,   spends   most   of   his   time   in   his   ratty   skate   clothes   that   barely   get   washed   bc   they   ‘   hold   the   energy   better   ’   (   nastie   )   ,   if   it   aint   sk8   shoes   its   socks   w   sandals   n   he   doesn’t   get   whats   wrong   w   that   ,   he’s   a   hufflepuff   n   a   ISTJ-T   myers   briggs  (  The  Logistician  )   ,   n   tbh   he   really   just   appreciates   the   little   things   in   life   ?   thats   eli   my   lil   meat   head   .

[our-smooty]

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 1

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. 

Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza --something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them. 

Ao3 Link

My Ko-Fi

Ten years. A cottage. The South Downs. Innumerable soft mornings in bed and long, exciting nights. Wine under their own apple tree, carefully cultivated to provide optimal shade during summer afternoons. Ten years of the rest of their lives. For Aziraphale and Crowley the time after the End that Wasn’t was nothing short of blissful perfection.

They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know.

Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza--something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

It wasn’t until they visited Tadfield, for Anathema’s baby shower, that it occurred to either of them. They’d been to the others, of course, both ethereal entities were prominently featured in the other two Device-Pulcifer children. Little Charlotte and Annabella looked forward to seeing their uncles for monthly gatherings. And the third child, yet to be named, was likely to feel the same about the two.

“It’s only 2 more months now,” Anathema said, lounging in a comfortable chair in her and Newt’s back garden. She was surrounded by friends and family, including the Them, Shadwell and Madame Tracy, and Crowley. Aziraphale was over by the pot-luck table, making him and the demon plates of food. Crowley nodded along to the conversation, not participating much himself.

“You must be ready for it to be over,” Madame Tracy said sympathetically, filling up the witch’s glass with more. Anathema nodded enthusiastically--after 2 kids you stop pretending to love every moment of pregnancy.

“Definitely. They’ve been kicking me in the spine for ages!”

“Have you tried telling them off?” Crowley asked casually, sipping his own drink (lemonade spiked with a little something from his flask. “Can never start too early with that kind of thing you know.”

Anathema looked surprised, though not significantly, which was in opposition to Newt's shocked expression. Madame Tracy rolled her eyes and tutted disapprovingly.

“Weren’t you a Nanny?” Pepper asked, eyeing Crowley suspiciously. “Good Nannies don’t go around shouting at babies.”

“No one said anything about shouting,” Crowley drawled, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s all about balance. Set some boundaries, let them know they can’t get away with anything too mischievous.”

“I thought mischief was your thing?” Adam asked. Crowley made a kind of a wiggle motion with his palm and wrinkled his nose.

“Trust me, kid. There’s mischief and then there’s a 4-year-old who doesn’t know the meaning of ‘no’.”

“Oh are we talking about our mutual ward?” Aziraphale chimed in cheerfully, setting down the plates he’d made up. Crowley murmured his thanks and reached for a strawberry. “We did our best but he turned out quite beastly in the end.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You’re making it sound like he’s a murderer. He turned OK, better than his father at least.”

“You do have a point there.” The rest of the party-goers at the table all had variously dubious looks on their faces as if they were all thinking ‘who allowed these two to raise a child?’.

“Have you two raised many children together then?” Madame Tracy asked pleasantly. Crowley and Aziraphale both shook their heads a little sadly. “Oh whyever not? You both seem to love kids.”

“Well, it isn’t the done thing you know. An angel and a demon?” Aziraphale answered glumly. Next to him, Crowley shifted in his seat. “Warlock was the exception because both Heaven and Hell thought he was the antichrist.”

“But you don’t work for them anymore!” Adam pointed out, tucking his hands under his thighs and rocking excitedly. “You could do whatever you want!”

Something like dawning realization began to grow on both men’s faces. They could, in fact, do whatever they pleased without worrying about the repercussions from their former head offices. Though the idea of a child might be pushing it.

“You know I never really thought about it like that, thank you, dear boy,” Aziraphale, always better with words in the heat of the moment, said. Crowley sat wordlessly, gaping like a fish out of water. From the far side of the table, Anathema whispered something in Newt’s ear and they both chuckled.

“Yes, well,” Crowley blustered, suddenly standing. “More lemonade?” No one answered but he stalked off anyway. No one mentioned the fact that he was going to the exact opposite way of the refreshment table either.

Aziraphale watched him go with a bemused expression, though he didn’t seem worried. Instead, he turned back to Anathema and began asking her about baby names. The Them quickly got bored with the baby talk and wandered towards the empty bit at the back of the yard to play football. Madame Tracy and Shadwell were off in their own little world, looking at each other with disgustingly moony eyes. Crowley nearly gagged just from being in proximity to such mushy behaviour. As it was he was currently taking refuge back behind the hedgerow, growling at Newt’s freshly planted petunias.

After they were sufficiently chastized and looking marvellous, Crowley decided he had calmed down enough to actually brave the drinks table. There was an entire pitcher of lemonade left, still damp with condensation from the refrigerator, and it was practically calling to him. He made himself a cup and stealthily spiked it. He was just about to take a sip when he felt small hands tugging at the edge of his jacket.

“Uncle Crowley,” a tiny voice said, “can I have a sip?”

Crowley looked down, already knowing exactly what he would see. Little Lottie, with her dark brown eyes and mane of untameable brown hair stared back at him, then eyed his drink. Behind her, Bella peered up at him, always the shy one.

“Eh, not this one. I’ll make you both your own special ones, how does that sound?” With a quick miracle, he procured two plastic cups with curly straws, dangling them in front of the girls. Bella's eyes lit up but Lottie held strong.

“No ice cubes!” she declared, stamping her foot. Crowley hid his proud smile behind a small cough.

“No, no ice cubes. Just pure, sugar water for you and your sister,” he said, filling both glasses up and handing them over, but not before using a demonic miracle to replace the sugar with a healthier alternative. He crouched down to their level to whisper, “Have you two been behaving for your mum and dad?”

Bella nodded, too busy drinking and splashing lemonade all over herself. Lottie lifted her chin proudly.

“Sometimes! Jus’ like you and Uncle Aziraphale said!” She’s only recently gotten the hand of the angel’s fully name, and took every opportunity to show off. Annabella was still getting the hang of it.

“Uncle Azi says to always be nice to the other girls at school, even if they say mean things!” she exclaimed loudly, a sticky smile lighting up her face. At least her hair was short enough that it was mostly saved. Crowley didn’t want Anathema to truly despise him.

“And?”

“And you said to put gum in their hair when the teacher isn’t looking!”

“Good girl. Now go sit at the table with your lemonade. And don’t let your mom see you with it!” He added that last bit just to see the devious look on Lottie’s face as she and her sister scampered off. Somebody, he loved those kids, even if they were half Newton. He liked most children, actually, though those two little girls had definitely run off with his cold, dead heart.

“There you are, Crowley!” Crowley tried to hide his slight jump of surprise with a cough. Even though he knew that Azirapahel knew that neither of them had ever needed to cough in the entire history of the world. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“S’not like I went far angel,” Crowley replied, straightening his knees and then his spine with far too much crackling. “What’d you want?”

Aziraphale was immediately fussing with the demon’s collar and suit jacket, making sure it sat right. “Well, I thought as it’s getting rather late and we have a little bit of a drive ahead of us it might be time for us to toddle.”

“Toddle?” Crowley asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

“If you prefer I could say we should get a wiggle o--” Immediately Crowley was stalking past the angel and back to the rest of the party-goers, effectively cutting him off.

“No I do not prefer ‘wiggle on’! Somebodies' sake where do you keep getting these awful sayings from?” He knew the angel was following behind him with a silly grin on his face.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about dear. Are you getting into one of your moods again?” Damn him, the bastard knew exactly how to rile Crowley up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about dear,” Crowley mocked, hunching his shoulders even more. “Let’s just get the goodbyes over with so we can go.”

It took far too long, for Crowley’s tastes, to actually leave. He let Azirapahel do most of the talking and hugging, though he spared a moment to cuddle Lottie and Bella when they started to beg. Their tiny little arms wrapped around his shoulders as he hoisted them up, slinging them side to side just to hear their delighted shrieks. The first few times he’d done this Newt and Anathema had not been pleased, but Aziraphale had reminded them they were both ethereal beings with the ability to change reality, and the parents had decided to allow it after that.

“Goodbye, little ones,” Aziraphale said, giving each of the girls a hug. Crowley knew first-hand how good Aziraphale’s hugs were and made a mental note to get a few of his own when they got home.

“Not little anymore Uncle Aziraphale!” Lottie shouted, taking advantage of her ‘outside voice’. Annabella giggled at the nickname, more than happy to be the angel’s little girl.

“No, no, I suppose not Charlotte. You’re nearly all grown up aren’t you?” he answered with an indulgent smile. The little girl wiggled with delight, and also with the need to be let go so she could go off and get into some sort of mischief. “Go on, have a good day you two.”

Final goodbyes were said and then they were in the Bently, trundling down the road. Crowley had agreed to drive at a more decent pace within the towns and cities sometime after Lottie had been born. The demon claimed he enjoyed driving slowly to annoy the other drivers, but Aziraphale had a suspicion that it had to do with having mortal attachments and realizing the dangers little children could get into near roadways. Outside on the country roads they took to get back to the South Downs he made up for it though, gunning down them with double the enthusiasm. Aziraphale considered this enough of a compromise.

“Lovely party,” the angel remarked loudly over the roar of the Bently’s engine. Crowley nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the road. He was hoping to beat her personal speed record from Tadfield to the cottage. “The girls are growing up so fast!”

Another noncommittal noise as Crowley overtook a car, getting dangerously close to the side door to hiss a little bit. The other driver blanched and decided to pull over at the next rest stop for a bracing cup of coffee.

“You’re quite good with them!” Aziraphale continued on, undeterred by Crowley’s distraction. “If fact, I’d say you have a soft spot for children, my dear. First warlock, then Adam, now the girls.”

That did get Crowley’s attention, though he made sure not to show it. Really he’d always loved children. There had been the kids he snuck onto the arc, just a few, those he could grab and hide from the floodwaters. And others throughout the years, war orphans and kids alone in the world for whatever horrible reason. He gave food to beggars and donates some of his exorbitant--and useless--wealth to orphanages and programs to help children (all spun in some nonsensical way to please Hell, of course). He’d adored being Warlock’s nanny (which is why, even though he is a demon, he couldn’t be the one to pull the trigger on either him or Adam). But caring about kids wasn't cool, wasn’t demon-like, so he’d kept it quiet. Trust Aziraphale to see right through that.

“So?” Keep it short, simple. Let Aziraphale do the talking, he obviously had a point to make, rambling on as he was doing.

“So… I was thinking…”

“Spit it out angel!” Crowley snapped, taking a very sharp left turn into oncoming traffic. Aziraphale knew it wasn’t meant in a nasty way though, he had over six millennia of experience speaking ‘irritable demon’.

“I’ve been thinking, it would be nice to have that,” Aziraphale stuttered out, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Have what?”

“Oh, you know what I mean! Why are you being so difficult, Crowley?”

“I’m not! I don’t understand half the babble that comes out of your mouth angel and you expect me to when I’m dri--”

“Doyouwanttohavechildren?” Aziraphale asked all in one breath, refusing to look over at Crowley. Crowley jerked violently, nearly driving them into the ditch. A quick miracle prevented their untimely discorporations and the Bently rolled to a stop on the side of the road.

“What?” he asked incredulously jaw hanging open.

“Children!” Aziraphale squeaked, his hands flying up and fidgeting with his collar and bowtie. “I-I’ve become very fond of our Goddaughters and I was thinking--”

“And how exactly--” Crowley’s tone was venomous, though he didn’t know exactly why, “do you suggest we procure these children? Forge up some adoption papers for some human baby?”

“Oh Heavens no!” Aziraphale tittered. “Humans, well they have such a short life span. Though I wouldn’t be opposed, if that’s what you wanted to do. I was thinking more along the lines of the old fashioned way?”

“Know many women looking to have little angel babies or hellspawn then Aziraphale?” Crowley mocked. Honestly, he was being a bit of a prick and he knew it. This wasn’t the type of thing you just brought up on a casual Sunday drive home from a casual social arrangement! It was the type of thing you thing to be spoken about after a few good rounds of fucking, in that warm safe afterglow surrounded by your lover. It was supposed to be a big thing right? Humans made it a big thing. And what about the fact that apparently Aziraphale wanted to… with some human woman? Or that Crowley would have to… eugh.

“Of course not! There was quite enough of that with the Nephilim. No, I was hoping, one of us could do it.”

Crowley was nearly bowled over with shock. As it was his white-knuckle grip was nearly bending the steering wheel. For some reason his mind was supplying images of little blond-haired, pudgy baby angels scampering around their cottage, chased by redheaded little devils. The tiny pitter-patter of their feet, then laughter like bells. The look on one of the children from the Arc’s face when he’d had to explain what happened to their parents. A tiny grave outside a workhouse, mourned by only him and no one else.

“Absolutely not.” The world wasn’t a place for children, Crowley knew that for certain. Nevermind the idea of having one of his own to take care of to be responsible for. It’d been different with the others, temporary and always ‘part of the job’. Having one would be different. Scary.

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice was tiny and feather-light in the quiet of the idling Bently. It was the same tone of voice he made when all the crepes were gone, but significantly sadder. It made Crowley feel terrible, like he really was worthy of his Fall.

“What brought this on, angel?” he asked, trying to find a way out that didn’t break Aziraphale’s heart more. “You’ve never even mentioned kids before this. Didn’t think you really liked them, Warlock and the girls aside.”

“No, no, I do like them. Not near the books, mind, but they’re nice enough. They have such good imaginations.” Aziraphale spoke like someone trying very, very hard to give off the impression they were fine. He’d moved on to crumpling and straightening his bowtie repeatedly.

“Nice enough you decided to blindside me with this on the drive home?” Should he turn the car off for this? Another glance at his angel, so clearly distressed, then back at his own shaking hand on the keys convinced him. The silence was even more oppressive without the Bently’s purr.

Aziraphale worried his hands harder and Crowley made a mental note to take the angel out to get his weekly manicure a little earlier. “I didn’t think you’d react like this.”

“And how, exactly, did you think I’d act? This world is fucked up Aziraphale, not to mention what Heaven and Hell would do if we made a bunch of half and half sprogs?” How was Aziraphale not seeing how impossible what he was asking was?  

Finally Aziraphale looked over at him. His grey-blue eyes were soft and sad. It made Crowley want to look away, and he briefly did behind his glasses.

“I--I hadn’t thought about what our previous sides might think, to be perfectly honest,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. “I got caught up in--well, it seems I haven’t thought this through. Forget I said anything, my dear.”

There was the out Crowley had been looking for, a good reason to start the Bently back up and continue on their way. Maybe he could spend the rest of the afternoon in his garden, ripping weeds out of the ground with great fervour. Not that his garden had weeds, but the roses had been slacking so they’d make do.

But he could just leave things as they were now, with Aziraphale looking so crushed. “What were you thinking then? Why now?”

A light blush spread over the angel’s cheeks as he glanced away again. “Oh well, I was only talking to Anathema about the girls, and the new little one coming soon and it sounds so… nice. She and Newt have been very happy and I’ve loved watching the girls get older and learn new things. Then I thought of us doing the same with our own little family and, well I guess I got a bit carried away.”

Carried away was right. The happiness that the Device-Pulcifer family had was not for them, couldn’t be for them. It wouldn't be safe or fair to bring children made of both of them into this world. Not when Heaven and Hell would just want them destroyed.

“We can’t, angel,” Crowley said quietly, letting his hands fall into his lap. “Even if we wanted to you know our ex-sides wouldn’t stand for it. They’ve been leaving us alone but you damn-well know they’d come back if there were kids.”

“So, you do want them? W-with me I mean?” Trust Aziraphale to ignore all the practical bit and cling to that. Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Angel…” he said warningly, a bit of a growl to his voice. Aziraphale kept going.

“Crowley please, I don’t understand why you’re so against this! You love Charlotte and Annabella, I’ve seen it!”

“Of course I love them!” Crowley said, exasperated. “But we can’t have that. Even if we want to, we can’t. It isn’t safe.”

Another ringing silence where Crowley expected Aziraphale to sigh, then ask him to continue driving. Once home the angel would head back to his reading room with a cup of cocoa and not speak to Crowly for a few hours. Later they’d makeup and it’d be over and done with. But it wouldn’t, not really. No something this important was going to be shoved under the rug, they’d learned their lesson from 6000 of pining.

“I think you are being a coward, Crowley,” Aziraphale said quietly but firmly. “I have never known you to fear Heaven of Hell, not even once. This isn’t about them this is about us.”

Crowley seethed, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You always see the bright side, you’re never realistic! What happens if we do that then, what happens when Heaven and Hell come and there’s nothing we can do to stop them from taking them away and--”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried all pretenses at a hard exterior dropped. “My dearest, you have been thinking about this.”

“We both know Heaven is bad, cold and fucking beurocratic. A bad place for kids. And Hell, they’d be better off dead than in Hell angel make no mistake about that. I can’t--” Crowley took a shuddering breath, staring at Aziraphale, hoping to make him see, “I can’t bring them into the world only for them to be poked and prodded and tortured. I can’t be that cruel. I won’t.”

“But we made sure they won’t be coming after us for a long time, maybe never even. Surely the fact that we’ve been together a decade and not hear so much as a peep means we’re off the hook,” Aziraphale argued. It made Crowley’s blood boil, how naive Aziraphale could be sometimes. How he still, after all this time, believed Heaven and Hell would keep their word.

“There’s no proof of that. And I might like to live life in the fast lane but not if it means getting kids hurt.” Aziraphale went to open his mouth but Crowley continued. “You know 10 years is a blink of the eye for us, and even more so for Above and Below. Talk to me in a millennia angel.”

“But you do want them. You just don’t think it’s safe right now?” Aziraphale looked hopeful again and Crowley didn’t have it in him to crush him a third time.

“Yeah, yeah I guess. But we can’t.” He tried to put emphasis on that last big but Aziraphale was already learning over, placing his hand on Crowley’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you, Crowley. I’m very sorry for calling you a coward, among the other things I said.”

This all felt a little easy to Crowley, but by that point, he was desperate for anything to end it. It gave him an out without having to resolutely say no, something he found almost impossible when it came to Aziraphale. Let him hope that they’d have another 1000 years undisturbed.

“Whatever, angel. Can we finish our drive in peace?” Aziraphale nodded, smiling slightly though his posture was still a little uncomfortable. Crowley shifted the Bently back into gear and felt the warm eat of Aziraphale’s hand rest over his. Even though he was still a little ticked off Crowley allowed it, relieved to know Aziraphale wasn’t actually angry with him for saying no.

“Of course, I won’t say another word about it today.” Crowley noted the add-on of “today” but still kept silent. Something told him he hadn’t quite won this battle yet.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 6

Last Time on Grand Theft Auto:

Tsubasa recovers from the world’s gayest coma as Hibiki trains her mind while putting aside such silly concepts as “the love of my life” and “literally being with my girlfriend.” After cooling Miku’s paranoia with her brand new washboard abs, Genjuro prepares the team for a pizza run across the city to deliver a dangerously hot pizza pie named Durandal. Chaos emerges as the delivery is intercepted by a rival pizza gang, lead by the nefarious Gremlin known as Yukine Chris. But, before the pizza could be claimed, dedicated pizza deliverywoman Hibiki not only steals it back, but eats it, harnessing the power of the pizza and unleashing cheesy pasta based chaos around the location.

Ryoko is so into it that she taps into her superpowers and protects Hibiki after she passes out. The delivery is considered a failure, and no tip is given.

And so, the journey continues...

Meanwhile, in this weird, tricked out mansion...

Chris meditates on some water metaphors of her own.

“that pacman colored freak took only touching it to activate a cheap ass french sword that gave her weird demon powers and its taken me YEARS to use this dumb stripper outfit and the funny cane that goes with it, what the FUCK man, what even is my life”

“maybe... maybe honeybaked hams ARE that powerful...”

“NO! turkey is the superior meat! it’s healthier, lower in fat, and way more tasty! fuck you! i’ll get my goddamned revenge!”

Chris begins musing about Fine’s motivations to capture Hibiki; during these, we’re treated to some brief image flashbacks of Chris’s life.

Suddenly, those jokes about food are a lot less funny.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together as to why this young woman is helping a strange nudist dominatrix spread alien terror across the city of mumblednoises, Japan. She doesn’t really have many an option on the table. It’s either help the weird kinkster with her plans, or die.

Despite everything, she has a high opinion of Fine, for the same reasons someone might have a high opinion of a television show if it were the only show they were ever exposed to. She is deeply afraid of being alone again, because she has lived through such misery that the very thought of existing out in the cold again terrifies the shit out of her.

The Sun rises casually amidst Chris’s thoughts.

“ah shit. it just hit me. i literally have spent the entire night standing here instead of actually going the fuck to sleep. goddamnit.”

On such a devious metaphorical twist, Fine stands behind her as the Sun rises.

“yeah, jokes on you. i couldnt sleep for shit either. turns out, all nude, no blankets? in japan? real bad idea.”

“thats why i decided to GO GOTH, babey! whattaya think? do i give those witchy vibes, huh? real ‘black magic woman’ santana hours? feeling cute, gonna head out with the girls and summon satan in the woods kinda aesthetic looking shit? come on, be real with me. does this not look baller?”

“you look like morticia decided to go to the grocery store to buy some wonder bread, but other than that, its a step up from your usual pussy out attitude, so sure”

“you know i decided to get some brain cells on loan from Brain Cells R Us, and ive been thinking this solomon cane stuff is solomon lame. i dont need this dumb oversized harry potter cosplay prop to get shit done. also, murder is... sorta bad? im still trying to get the brain cell stuff down.”

“i can punch just as good as goody two shoes if not better.”

“lol go do it then champ, im gonna go cut down a forest of trees now”

And so, they both just kinda... stand there.

“QUACK, NEXT SCENE, QUACK”

Meanwhile, Tsubasa is rapidly trying to rehabilitate herself from her wounds like walking like a madman, her IV drip presumably filled with Taco Bell brand Doritos Locos Tacos super spicy nacho cheese. Taco Bell: Live Mas.

“im gonna clear every fucking taco bell in your goddamned memory, kanade”

“think outside the bun! wait, what? that was a taco bell slogan? ah fuck it, im dead. what nerd’s gonna try and correct me?”

“i would, kanade. i am that nerd.”

Tsubasa is hell bent to try and understand Kanade’s simple philosophy of helping others selflessly. Unfortunately, when Kanade died, she took all the brain cells between them in the process, so coming to this epiphany is a work in progress.

“listen its a fucking miracle you are 1. alive and 2. able to have your blood run on the garbage melted plastic taco bell tries to dupe people into believing is cheese so why dont you just lie down and think of better franchises to eat from”

“no! you dont understand! taco bell is a franchise of the PEOPLE! their meals are cheap and filling and- and the chicken quesadillas are of good quality for their price! i promised kanade- my vow to the death. taco bell... ergh... now and forever... i-”

“wait. my gay senses are tingling.”

It’s Hibiki, probably running track with Miku.

“oh yeah... her... i should probably apologize to her. about trying to kill her. and then letting her almost be kidnapped. and just giving her a general hard time about something that wasn’t explained to her in the slightest for months. she’s a good bean.”

Tsubasa proceeds to never canonically apologize to Hibiki throughout the entirety of all 4 seasons of Symphogear.

Look at em run. See, it’s a metaphor, because they haven’t communicated yet and they’re running from their problems! But they’re running towards Tsubasa, who is part of the representative problem these two share! Clearly literary genius.

It’s like someone went halfway into writing an NTR plotline and went “maybe this isn’t a good idea to market our songs on.”

Hibiki is still thinking about her Hellshake Yano moment with Durandal. Mainly how she nearly killed someone with it. Hibiki is very starkly in the “killing is bad, and wrong” camp of morality, a trait currently unique to her that she’ll wind up teaching literally everyone else she meets one way or another.

Some could argue the L stands for Lydian, and they’re wrong. It stands for Lesbian.

“that was one hell of a run, hibiki! im pooped! why dont we go to the locker room and call it a day, have a nice shower and just get some dinn-”

“this is the last straw.

i clean your plates. i cook your food. we eat, shit, shower, and sleep in the same FUCKING area, and this is how you repay me? huh? you think being your wife is easy shit, hibiki? half the damn time you’re running off like clark kent having food poisoning and the other half ive gotta babysit you, the emotional equivalent of a preteen clown, to make sure your life doesn’t self destruct harder than Atlantis sinking into the ocean. im done! i am DONE. im reopening my tinder, im slamming my ass BACK into okcupid, and im gonna date some CUTE ACADEMY GIRLS that treat me BETTER than this ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL OF HEART AND IM NOT CRYING I SWEAR ITS JUST THE SWEAT IN MY EYES AND HIBIKI HOW COULD YOU-”

“oh yeah, sure! hey, lemme just do a few more laps, ive just been feeling judgmental about myself and my figure, you know? gotta push myself further...”

“o-oh yeah, sure. no worries, ill wait for you. love you too, hibiki...”

The girls bathe together, as good friends typically do.

“hey you ever notice the showers here have like, weird psuedo-luxurious minipools to bathe in? like, how rich is this school?”

“whoever made this place is either rich or a pervert. or both, probably!”

Miku remarks that Hibiki has changed since she’s entered Lydian, in a manner most unheterosexual.

“oh FUCK you really DO have washboard abs now! ohhh my god.”

“damn, those abs were heavenly. let’s get pancakes later.”

I won’t screenshot it but something to note is that they actually wear each other’s corresponding underwear colors (or even, if you want to examine more closely, each other’s underwear). Here’s an equivalent scene to give you the mental image.

This is the face of someone who knows what they want and already have it. Such is the power of Kohinata Miku.

Meanwhile, Genjuro comes back from the funeral of the guy the Americans filled violently and with impunity.

“yo that all black look looks baller. i should borrow that look... id look pretty gothy in it.”

“ryoko i sympathize with your sharp, fashionista eye but this was for a funeral, i was paying my respects to the dead. thats the usual dress code.”

“didnt know they updated that. i remember back in my day, we just went in white garments and chanted in latin!”

“shit was fire. literally. lots of funeral pyres.”

“lmao ryoko buddy your larping sessions arent actual history”

“hey dont shit on larping around me. i used to be a professional larper while i was majoring in acting. helped really sell my career when i had to pretend to slay the Dark Lord Jyarloen atop the mountain of skulls in Hargobor after my family was killed by the Dark Army. asshole.”

“haha yeah, larping, thats cool yeah, i do that

i...

i larp.”

“oh yeah? you wanna join my larping session sometime then? we’re gonna do an ancient babylon plot thats inspired by some anime, itll be fun”

“.....................................im super into realism.”

“i know im dressed for a funeral but id like to not part ways with my dignity yet. besides, we’ve got serious shit to talk about. basically, we’re on the verge of getting shitcanned.”

As it turns out, the death of this politician removed the last obstacle of opposition to maintain the 2nd Division, as the average criticism against the 2nd Division is “why are we funding this mystery division when we don’t know what they do”. Of course, the sensible idea for an organization that defeats the Noise is to declassify it, given people of different jobs and positions have physically seen the Symphogear in action, but you know. “Oh no, the other governments will come after us” stick gets shaken.

“im in a union. i know my rights. you’re not taking my acting job here away from me.”

“im not going back to be a preschool teacher. its been ten year. the bites on my ankles still havent healed...”

“yeah man, shit sucks ass. i cant fund my adoption habits if im fired.”

Look at these cinematic parallels. Symphogear truly is a franchise made by someone living in 3030.

“worst part is the new minister is super into america. he’s a... westaboo.”

“a westaboo?”

“westaboo?”

“did he just unironically say westaboo”

“he said westaboo. oh my god. this is the hell timeline.”

“i mean people kept calling me that for worshipping all these fighting flicks so i guess it fit? i dont see the problem here”

Meanwhile, in Lydian Academy...

“so it hit me, right? we’re ALL girls. and we ALL sing. now, humor me a moment. what if... what if we’ve all been recruited to potentially be superheroes... through our singing? like, there’s no coincidence that all this shit happens around us, right? and a famous singer LIVES here? i saw the black cars outside! weird shit is happening here- im not even gonna eat the all you can eat bar anymore!”

“kathy there is literally no such thing as superheroes who sing. this place is more likely to be a organ harvesting op than whatever madness you’re saying”

“what? you need me, a singing superhero, to go stop a problem happening underneath the school, a location meant to recruit young women into potentially becoming fellow crime fighting singers?”

“yeah im too busy poppin’ caps in asses so go kick ass in my place”

“sure!”

“.....................................who ya talkin to, hibiki?”

“the boss! gotta go do a thing again...”

“hibiki, i dont like the fact that capitalism is tearing us apart.”

“you’ve gotta join me in the revolution, hibiki. you. me. luxury automated gay space communism. aint it the dream? share my vision, hibiki. its glorious.”

“n... no...? no gay space communism today? well, what about tomorrow? or the next day? or... maybe the next day? baby steps, you say? but, direction action, hibiki! we’ve gotta strike now!”

“it’s okay hibiki. when i take over the world and destroy all first world government leaders, and unite the globe in my encompassing reign and love... ill make sure to spare you, and be my bride to be.”

“thanks miku. im just not ready yet for the globe to burn in an unending ball of fire as the continents fuse into a new utopia composed of our combined wills. also, ive really gotta go, its genuinely an emergency.”

“for the cause!”

“yes hibiki... for the cause...”

Admittedly, you can see the stages of grief Miku goes through when she sees Hibiki say she can’t join her for pancakes. It’s sad. This side story sucks.

Meanwhile, as it turns out, the problem Hibiki needed to resolve was checking on Tsubasa to see if she hadn’t dissolved into Taco Bell brand hot n’ spicy Tabasco sauce.

“god, cant believe taco bell was closed. now i gotta deliver these lame ass flowers”

“cant wait to get threatened again. wonder what she’ll say. ‘hibiki, i should have killed you when i had the chance.’ or ‘you’re so goddamned weak. i could break your spine with my fingernail’, or some other stuff about metaphors. oh, my stops here”

“HEY BITCH WHATS GOOD-”

“HOLY SHIT”

“you are already”

“dead.”

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Homeward Bound: Chapter 5

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader

Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5  |Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10  | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Chapter Summary: Old friends are always a sight for sore eyes...

Word Count: 2,525

Warnings: Swearing, blood mention

Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @hargrovesgoldilocks @hipsmcgee @lilmissperfectlyimperfect

Series Tag: @kurt-nightcrawler @alonewolfblog @baebee35 @bucky4cap45 @thoughstofaredhead 

You whipped around, turning to meet the piercing blue eyes of Billy Hargrove. A small, cunning smile slipped onto your lips, an eyebrow raising curiously as you looked at, taking in his easy smirk.

“Well, what the fuck are you still doing here?” you asked with a laugh, turning to fully look at him, enamoured and awed.

Billy looked different, though not in a completely bad way. He had cut his hair short in the back, finally getting rid of the god awful mullet. He’d gained a bit of weight, no longer the toned tan god he was in high school. But he looked good, it didn’t damper his beauty. The darkness was gone from his eyes, replaced now with vague loneliness. He looked calmer for once, at ease with his world.

“I could ask you the same thing, Henderson.” He laughed, beckoning you into a hug, which you gladly accepted, jumping up to your feet and into his familiar arms. He smelled the same too, like mint gum and spicy cologne and Irish Spring soap; clean and fresh.

“I’m here for Dustin’s graduation!” you said when you broke the hug, Billy still hanging on like he always did. Some things never did change. “What about you? Max couldn’t have actually wanted you here.”

Billy chuckled, a little sadly “Nah my…my father died about a year ago, I’m still cleaning up after him.” He replied. Your easy smile dipped and Billy rushed to recover, his hand coming to your arm. “It’s no big deal, I hated the guy. Susan’s already remarried, luckily for me he dropped off after I’d already moved out or else I’d be homeless.”

“Oh Bill…” you muttered, seeing the inherent sadness in it all. He was still controlled by his father, even from beyond the grave; he could never fully escape him.

“Hey whoa!” he said with a laugh “This ain’t no pity party! San Francisco can wait for me. I’m almost done here anyway.”

You let out a breath, relieved. “Oh good! I’m glad. That you can leave, I mean, I wouldn’t want you to get stuck here.” You said with a laugh.

Billy chuckled “Nah, no need to fret, Henderson, I’m outta here as soon as I can.”

You nodded “Right…” The silence that filled the space wasn’t awkward, it felt more peaceful, almost homey. It felt more like home than your actual home did. You remembered that most of your time with Billy in utter silence, only briefly filled with breathy moans and low grunts. Words weren’t exactly his forte, but actions surely were. Now, his lack of words felt normal.

“So…you wanna go to dinner with me? That Italian place you liked is still open on fifth.” He asked easily, gesturing to the exit doors just at the end of the cafeteria.

You furrowed your brow “Why, so we can not talk over dinner? We can do that at your place.” You laughed. Billy watched you, a smirk pulling at his lips. You rolled your eyes, knowing that face all too well. “I’m not gonna sleep with you, so just get that out of your head now. We can get take out.” You scoffed.

Billy’s smirk dropped away as he sucked his teeth. “I don’t know, I don’t really sit around much.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets, already looking around for his next option.

“Oh come on!” you cried, grabbing onto the front of his jacket “I’m drowning in that house! I need a night away and going anywhere public is gonna get me in shit with Dusty and I don’t need that.”

Billy sighed, nodding “Yeah, yeah I get it…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought, his face already giving away the answer. “Yeah…yeah okay sure, that’ll work. I live in the apartments on North Street, number 514 come over…when can you escape?” he asked.

“Eh, probably around eight, I think. Gotta clear up a few things back there first.” You said with a shrug. Billy nodded, looking around the mall with gritted teeth. He looked nervous, for reasons you couldn’t understand. You didn’t comment, however, instead checking your watch.

“Oh shit I gotta go!” you said, grabbing your purse off the bench along with your shopping bag.

“What you got a curfew or something?” he asked with a chuckle, watching you.

“Sort of, promised to help with something at home.” You said “I’ll see you later, okay?” you turned to rush off, but Billy grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him with a smirk.

“How you gonna get in touch with me if shit blows up, here lemme give you my number.” He said, looking in his pockets for something. You pulled out a pen from your purse, handing it to him and exposing your palm. He quickly scribbled down his number on your clean hand. You memorized the number, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek and rushed off.

You sprinted home, just barely making curfew with a soppy grin on your face. You sprinted through the living room and into the kitchen, waving quickly into the living room where you briefly saw Dustin. “Hey bud!” you called, stopped at the coat hanger in the living room, pulling the spare apron off it and throwing it over you, tying the strings around you as you put the bag on the counter.

“Hey Y/N!” Dustin called in as you pulled up your hair with a smile. You moved to the sink to wash your hands, ignoring your mother as she watched on, bemused.

“Hey, Y/N.” someone said behind you, making you jump. You spun around to find Steve standing behind you, out of uniform and grinning madly. You huffed, settling your heart again, trying to hush it as it beat wildly in your chest. “Harrington, Jesus you scared the shit out of me!” you cried, a gentle blush coming to your cheeks.

“Thought you saw me.” He said with a smirk, clearly loving this power shift as he puffed out his chest, biting back a laugh.

“You’re an ass.” You snapped, swatting his chest, earning a laugh from him. You hated that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“Language!” your mother said sternly, handing you a potato peeler. “Now, Steve, you must be so tired from your shift, why don’t you sit down? Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Henderson. Besides, I’d feel pretty shitty if I just sat around and watched you two work.” He said. You wanted to throw up; you’d forgotten how much of a kiss ass he was, especially with parents.

Your mother sighed “Alright, if you insist, you can help Y/N with the potatoes, just make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” She said, much to your dismay. You would’ve much preferred to suffer in silence and now you’d have Steve’s running commentary. You almost wished that you’d cut your thumb and get to sit out for awhile. But you knew that wouldn’t happen; you worked in a kitchen for almost a year as a prep cook, you’d got very good at not cutting yourself and instead cutting the vegetables and meats at hand. You hated working in kitchens, but for a few months it wasn’t a bad gig.

You settled in, grabbing the large colander of potatoes and running them under the sink. Steve followed suit awkwardly, grabbing the smaller colander and following behind you meekly. You rolled your eyes as you caught your mother watching with a worried expression. You sighed, dropping the potatoes in the sink and untying your apron, pulling it off your chest and over your head, handing it over to Steve.

“Here, protect your clothes.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Steve watched you for a second, utterly confused. “Oh, no I’m alright…I don’t mind.” He said awkwardly, holding his hands up in awkward defence.

You rolled your eyes, muttering “My mother will never let us hear the end of it if you get even a speck of food on your clothes, take the damn apron.” Steve nodded quickly, grabbing it from you and folding it, tying it around his waist.

“Thank you.” He said, loud enough for your mother to hear. She smiled, turning back to her work. She looked like a mother watching her toddler share willingly for the first time. You ignored the belittling feeling it left on your skin and grabbed the colander, heading back to the free space on the counter and picking up the potato peeler. Steve followed behind, copying your actions and picking out a knife from the block, something your mother didn’t seem to mind much, she was too focused on stuffing her chicken.

You grabbed your first potato, settling into your peeling stance and got to work. You’d spent hours peeling potatoes and squash, so this was no big deal. You spun the vegetable carefully in your hand, avoiding your skin and created long strands of potato skin that fluttering neatly into spirals into the plastic bag under your hands. In comparison, Steve took quick chunks out of the skin with his knife, which ultimately took longer and made a bigger mess. You finished two potatoes for the one he’d finished.

“Wow…you’re really quick at this…” he said with a chuckle, dropping the haphazardly peeled vegetable into the shared pot. You shrugged easily, picking up another and settling it into the centre of your palm.

“I used to work in a restaurant…you get quick…” you replied, looking at his work and shaking your head as he nearly cut his hand. “If you try to make rings out of the skin, it goes quicker. Don’t just take out chunks.” You instructed.

“Okay…” he said, watching you for a moment as you demonstrated and then, with shaky hands, he attempted to do the same. You smiled softly, against your better judgement, as he focused in, his tongue peaking out of his lips as he created his first ring. It was tiny, sure, but you were oddly proud of him. You didn’t like that you were proud of him, but you were.

“Why do we need all these potatoes?” he whispered, leaning in to speak just to you.

“We’re gonna mash them all and freeze most of them. My mother will inevitably send you home with leftovers too, it’s her way of saving time and making good impressions on her guests.” You replied with a shrug.

“I don’t think she needs to make a good impression on me anymore, I’m here all the time.” He replied with a chuckle, proudly dropping his first ring in the bag.

“It’s not being done for you.” You said, sighing softly. Steve nodded awkwardly, not bothering to ask you to elaborate. You looked more than a little sad about the whole thing, a sight Steve didn’t really want to see. It still broke his heart to see you hurting.

“I think it’s nice though,” he said a bit louder “That you all still have dinner together, I can’t remember the last time my parents and I had dinner together, much less a home cooked meal.”

“How are your parents, Steve? I haven’t seen them in forever!” your mother asked. You took the prime opportunity to try to finish off the potatoes quickly, hoping to get away from the whole scenario.

“They’re alright, my mother mostly lives in France now and my father’s forever stuck in Chicago on business, but they’re supposed to be down for Christmas though, for my sister’s wedding.” He replied smoothly, making another ring of skin.

“Oh, did you hear that, Y/N? We must have them over during the holiday! Just another reason for you to come home this year, right?” she said with a wink.

You furrowed your brow “Why would seeing Steve’s parents be a reason for me to come home? They hate me.” You replied, dropping another peeled potato into the pot.

“They don’t hate you.” Steve said, turning to look at you with a frown.

You scoffed “Oh they most certainly did, they liked Robin better, remember? They wanted you two to date so badly, they practically handed me a serving tray and a catering uniform during that awful party, the one for your father’s new business partners from Wales, remember?”

“Yeah that’s fair, but they warmed up to you pretty quick, my sister loved you.” He retorted easily, grinning like a madman.

You shook your head, smiling with utter disbelief “She only liked me because I wrote her essay on Great Expectations, before that she thought I was, and I quote, a frizzy loser.” You retorted; it was easy to argue with Steve; that was something you’d forgotten.

“You did what?” your mother snapped, joining into the conversation again with anger and embarrassment lighting up her face.

“Mother, in high school I made a mint selling English essays. And no, they never caught me. I graduated completely unknown to any administrator.” You said, brushing her off. She scoffed, stuttering wildly as she tried to find the words to explain her disappointment and anger at you.

“No, that’s not true, Mr. Knapp almost caught you.” Steve said with a laugh.

“Almost is not the same as actually being caught. If Jonathan Byers wasn’t such a weenie it wouldn’t have been a problem.” You snapped, earning a louder laugh from Steve, his knife still moving thoughtlessly across the potato. You didn’t see the knife go in, but you saw the blood.

[artinterviewmagazine]

Conversation With Taj Bourgeois On Selling Their Paintings Online For A Living

Marius Larsson: So first of all how long have you been selling paintings? About 2 years now? Taj Bourgeois: Yeah I quit my job driving taxi in December so a little over 2 years. I had a week where I made negative $70 and that was that. I had to do something different. ML: What made you think you could make it as an artist, and how did you initially get started? TB: I didn’t think I could make it lol, but also felt like it might be my last chance to give it my all. If I didn’t at least try once in my life I was concerned I’d feel like a hypocrite if I were to tell my daughter to follow her dreams. Pretty much I just posted on Facebook “Would anyone like to commission a painting?”. I got five responses, one of which was for $600. Honestly I don’t know if I would’ve felt the drive to commit if it weren’t for that, but also my strategy was and has been basically to just make paintings everyday, so people would see I was taking it seriously and in turn take me seriously. ML: And had you been painting much prior? TB: I had made like 7 or 8 paintings in the months leading up to it, so people were aware what I was getting into and I guess displaying some level of skill. Prior to that I hadn’t really painted since around the time my daughter was born in 2012. ML: What kinds of things did you start off painting? TB: In 2012 or in the months before doing it full time? ML: Tell me about 2012, why you took a break for 4 years and then what got you back into it in 2016. TB: When I found out I was going to be a father I had been in college for just a couple semesters taking random art classes. I was just there for the school loans... ya know.. didn’t want to get a job. Anyway I was in a painting class, and it was pretty much my first time painting. I watched the Basquiat documentary “The Radiant Child”, and it made me think about painting in a very different way. A few months after my daughter was born and I won a couple awards for paintings I did for the college’s annual art show. Then I enrolled at the Pacific Northwest College of Art for the Fall semester, but by that point I was learning about hundreds of artist’s on my own time, and was becoming inspired to try all kinds of things other than painting. I felt I did so well that semester that I decided college wasn’t going to be a good use of time or money, so I dropped out and just followed my train of thought for the next 4 years which led back to painting. ML: How did it lead back to painting? TB: I had been driving taxi for a year and a half, and during that time I felt more and more disconnected from any of my previous modes of art making. I was pretty much sitting in the cab making memes and digital collages. Toward the end the collages I was doing started to become more refined, and I started thinking about the merits of painting the imagery I was putting together. The first thing I painted after all that time was an image of flaming goose which was a meme that had been going around. I decided to painted it very large. It was just something I thought would help test the waters again, and also something I figured I’d like to have on my wall. Of course painting a giant meme is going to get a good response online, so I did a couple more, and then painted some scenes from photos, and then from my imagination. Tried to paint the collages I had made but didn’t quite feel right to try to change their medium. ML: Ok so you had a few commissions and then what? You’d post your paintings for sale and people just kept buying them? TB: Yeah although the first 6 months were pretty rough. In April I only made $500, so I was cutting it close, but I was still in the mindset that most artists have, which is like their art has some mysterious value to it and should be expensive, but then I realized it would make more sense if I took it more seriously as a job and charge by the hour, so I started painting more small funny stuff. Like for me it made more sense to sell a bunch of little humorous $50 pieces than cross my fingers on a $300 piece cause it would take me the same amount of time to do 6 of the $50 ones. It wasn’t until around 6 months that I made my first piece that multiple people wanted, and so what I did was make it multiple times, and that’s when things started to pick up. ML: And what was that piece? TB: It was spider man on the floor of an art museum looking up at a painting of a goofy fish with a human face, and spider man is saying in a thought bubble “That Painting Looks The Way I Feel!” It was originally from an old comic and spider man had been looking at some kind of parody Picasso portrait, but you know with memes pieces get replaced, and the mood changes. The fish’s face was a better mood than the Picasso probably.

ML: How many paintings had you made by that point? TB: Around 70, but had sold maybe 20 ML: What materials were you using? TB: During the taxi days I was in the store (Fred Meyer) and saw this canvas that house painters just lay on the floor to catch the paint drips, and I was like damn 4x15ft for $13? I should get some in case I feel up to making some big paintings someday, but I have always been such a frugal person that it wasn’t until I saw the apple barrel brand paints that I was like damn ok lemme just buy a couple of every color and see if I’m into this. I also bought a gallon of white house paint to “gesso” the canvas. I still use this method on big pieces, and can always stretch later, but lately have been buying a lot of canvas already prepped and stretched. ML: So do you only sell through Facebook and Instagram? TB: Yes oddly enough that’s like 95% of sales. A few every now and then from irl shows where I live here in Portland (Oregon).

ML: I want to go back to something for a second. You mentioned you started painting in 2012, but then you won a couple awards a few months later. How old were you. How did you excel so quickly considering you said you hadn’t painted prior and what were those painting? TB: I was 24. I think painting is one of those mediums where “ability” is far more subjective than most things. You can view enough of it without trying it yourself to the point that when you do try you’ll already have a grasp of it. I have been interested in painting my whole life, so picking up the brush I already had thousands of hours of experience just thinking about it ya know, so like with that show at the college I knew I wanted to make something big and bold. So I cut myself a 4x7ft canvas and ended up making this multi-colored deer looking straight ahead with sort of hypnotic gaze. That was a people’s choice award, and the other got me a scholarship offer, but for that one I basically had just copied Twombly lol.

ML: How would you describe your style today? TB: Hmm I try not to, cause I try all kinds of stuff. I feel my technical skill level is mediocre but maybe my creative level is high? Different people are going to appreciate different things, and I’ve always been more interested in what the painting depicts over how it’s made. I mean skill aside I think most paintings are pretty umm I want to say “derivative” haha are people still using that word in serious? I’m having fun though, staying curious, and I think that comes across. What’s the point of describing my “style” anyway?

ML: I’m curious about how you view your own work. TB: I view my own work with my own eyes lol. I view my art like a loving father or maybe more like an observer, a bird watcher? No, ok I think I understand this question now. My approach to painting is often like a mix of writing, drawing, and making memes. Often I have the idea and it doesn’t really matter how I get there unless the technique is the content itself as with a lot of abstract art. Like, I will entirely base a painting on a sentence describing the image itself with little concern about how i will make it. Like “a shuriken stuck in the back of a smiling man”, so I’ll paint some sky, a fence, some grass, blue jeans, man has no shirt, shuriken, blood, he’s holding a beer, he’s smiling alright i did it… nice. That’s one way I view my work as a route to an image. I used to do this all the time before painting. I have an art book from 2015 where I used this method a lot like I’d write down ideas, and then go out and make them happen. Some elements of the end result were arbitrary although I always tried to have good composition and quality documentation. I didn’t think of myself as a photographer though I certainly was and was good at that aspect too, but it was more the means to document my performance, sculpture, installation… sentence made real. I also view a good portion of my paintings as elaborate pages ripped from children’s books that don’t exist (yet) and they’re filled with weird cute characters I never really had any intention to keep making in the first place, but I’m still doing it for some reason maybe because I like the idea of an overarching narrative, but mostly I think cause they give me a deep nostalgia for illustrations in picture books I saw as a kid or like panels from graphic novels.

ML: That answer is all over the place! I guess that’s what i get for asking such a broad question, but there’s a lot to work with there. Tell me about being a Father. You said it was kind of the catalyst to start making art. How do you think it’s affected your work? TB: Naturally it changed everything. Before my daughter was born I was just so much more aloof, timid, uncertain about making anything. I’d spend so many days just floating around “hanging out” drinking, smoking etc. Maybe I’d draw a little, write a little, play some music, but always felt like I was just killing time waiting for something to happen, and then it did. Suddenly I felt obligated to be at home most of the time, ya know, like a good dad. Other than that I was still in school making the most of it for the short time being. So for that first year I was either home with her or at school. I was just making stuff every day all the time, and it became an insatiable habit especially once I started sharing it online. Yeah honestly I felt the pressure was on. Like I had waited too long to pursue my passions so I had to make up for lost time. I’ve been addicted to making and sharing things everyday ever since. As for my daughter’s influence, yeah I love watching her grow and the things she makes inspire me as well. I’m a bit of a romantic when it comes to modern art and its mythos. I still vibe off what picasso said about how it took him his whole life to paint like a child, so I feel really grateful to work with her. I have literally thousands of her drawings stacked all over the place. She’ll sit down and do fifty drawings in an hour so I’ve gotten a white board lol. Also like I mentioned before it was kind of insane of me to quit my job to become a painter, like I have a kid, rent, bills, a car, and I’m just going to suddenly start painting happy devils to pay for all that? Well, yeah it felt like my last chance to make my dreams a reality. I just wanted to be able to say I did my best and tried to make it work, for myself, and to be a role model in that sense as well. So far so good.

ML: There seems be a big disparity between artists who make a living off their work and artists who don’t, and what I mean is that when you think of an artist making a living off their work you usually think either they have gallery representation, some kind of branding, or business making the same kinds of things again and again, and yet you seem to have been able to find some middle ground and do all of those things without a business, a degree, or a gallery. What’s it been like overall/how is it going? TB: I still got my foodstamp card haha, but to be honest things are better than ever. I don’t know I just keep at it every day. My belief has been that if I just keep making stuff the right people will notice. I’ve never submitted my work anywhere or asked for opportunities. I let them come to me. I just want to make the art not deal with the other stuff. If a big gallery wants to make money off me they most certainly will but for now I’ve just been doing small independent spaces, and cafe’s which bring in a little extra money but pretty much all my sales are online where I talk to every single person directly.  The most surprising thing has been how many people are interested given that I have less than 5,000 followers/friends. To me that’s a pretty good sign that as my reach grows so will opportunities and I’ve been going hard these past two years. I think I’m just going to be making bigger, better things as more people become interested. I don’t know any artists doing it this way or any way really. I’m not sure Portland is the place to make it happen, but god bless the internet! Getting a college degree makes no sense whatsoever except for becoming a teacher, and I think we know how that’s playing out these days, so I’m just grateful to be doing what I’m doing even though teaching would be pretty cool. Technically you don’t need a degree to teach you just need people who want to learn.

ML: One thing that seems to have helped you gain momentum is the price of your pieces. I don’t think I’ve ever followed an artist pricing their work so low that wasn’t just really kitschy stencil art or something. I see some of your pieces for $600 that I’d see in a gallery for $6,000 no doubt, but then I see a great deal of $50 pieces. What made you decide to price your work this way? Has it changed over time? TB: Yeah and it’s always the “artists” that comment on the prices being too low which is ironic cause usually all you ever hear from the average person is mocking how ridiculously high the price of art is generally. Basically I think other artist’s scoff because they’re projecting their insecurity regarding the real value of art, and maybe a little envious they can’t let go of their own pieces as though the abstract painting they made in a few hours should be worth thousands when they could be making a dozen similar pieces in a single day.  But um yeah I pretty much think of my stuff as like $30-$50 an hour and really like  that’s fucking amazing for a job. Yeah idk I have worked some shitty jobs, and it doesn’t make sense thinking that my work should be above what a person like myself can afford in the first place. When I first started though I still had the mysterious art value notion and was pricing things around $200 that I’d price $70 now, and didn’t sell much at first. It wasn’t until I started doing smaller pieces and gauging my time that I started selling a lot more and trying a lot of different things. It’s not like i’m making art specifically about making money but I can understand why people are so interested in this aspect. I don’t think it’s very common huh. When I first started I tried to justify it as a performance piece called “The Painter” haha. I used to title all sorts of things in my mind as a means to cope with the daunting reality of the situation “Working Construction”, 2014. Even during some of the lowest points I think it helped me maintain the peculiar sense of an artist identity I didn’t want to let go of even if I was letting go of everything else like “Burning All My Journals & Paintings″, 2015

ML: Haha what is that last one about? TB: Around the time I stopped living with my wife and moved into my own place I decided to not bring much along with me. I think the title is self-explanatory. ML: I’m wondering if you could talk about any reoccurring themes or characters in a lot of your paintings like the blob fish or spicy boys. TB: Ya know I think most everything just comes to me on a whim and if it works out or holds my interest I’ll keep playing with it. I guess blob fish and spicy boys are like representative of the comedy/tragedy masks or something. I think I’ve simplified a lot of themes in my paintings just so I can keep the flow going. I’m looking forward to spending more time and space on pieces in the future and elaborate on certain things I’ve wanted to express but didn’t know how to put into words. ML: How so? TB: Well, for example. Sometimes I will paint something I’ve seen in my mind, like, dreamed or hallucinated, but not often because a lot of the time I feel I can’t do it justice even though a lot of my stuff is very much informed by these things that I don’t exactly control. It’s like I take video stills from the internet except they’re from my mind, and the screenshot is something I only had to opportunity to view briefly, but even with a split second hallucination I will think about it for weeks and often will just paint its most basic components. Anyway I’m gearing toward eventually elaborating on the more complex ones because lately I have had some visions that have come to the forefront of my interest. Hopefully will get to them after a few more pet portrait commissions haha. ML: What do you mean by hallucinations? Is your inspiration mainly inspired by dreams or do you mean drugs as well? TB: Most things I just write down as interesting ideas to play with, but I guess I don’t want to get too much into talking about drugs. However there have some recent experiences I’ve had with substances like dmt and the things I saw during that I have been thinking about ever since. So right now I’m just trying to get to the end of commissions and then give my attention to some new projects. Have a show in March. Don’t know what I’ll do for it, but certainly no shortage of ideas.

ML: Where do you see yourself going or where would you like to go, and any other thoughts on painting/selling/art in general? TB: I want to go to the top haha. Well in most ways things are better than ever, and I’m incredibly grateful and I can certainly tolerate having things going at this pace at least another year, but would like to make more serious/invested work that I’m really proud of, get some more money and attention and access to better time/space/materials. At this point though even if I had to get a day job I feel I’m completely committed to doing this work. It’s pretty much how I gauge my self-worth for better or worse. Just hope I can find my groove within the process and better understand myself, inspire others, and I wish I had something more insightful to say, but at the moment I’m a bit preoccupied hustling and just having fun with this upcoming show. Thank yaaaa.

[edvh1]

( sophie turner, cis-female ) did you hear how EDEN VON HOLTEN is applying to columbia university as an ASTROPHYSICS major ?! the 21 year old is living in the WATT HALL. i heard that they got in because they are + LOYAL and +WARM, but honestly i think SHE can be -INSECURE and -APPROVAL SEEKING. they’re a real PARACOSMIC. oh well, only time will tell if the JUNIOR will make it til the end.  

 connections ● stats ● full bio (probably not written yet)

eden was born and spent the first ten years of her life in linz, vienna. her father is an architect while her mother is a former housewife turned real estate agent.

the von holten last name was a distinguished surname back in the day as they were part of the austrian nobility. however, eden never really enjoyed the lifestyle lavish life of being part of royalty as her part of her family is known as the descendants of 'bastards'.

this meant that while her family could carry the von holten surname they didn't have access to the family's name, except for a trust fund to cover college expenses.

despite this, eden had a rather comfortable life as her father was a young promising architect that through his hard work managed to provide a good life to his family.

when eden was ten years old, his father decided to leave austria to work in the united states in a prestigious architecture firm in chicago. the family only lived there for roughly two years before they made a permanent move to montpellier, vermont where her father opened her own architecture firm and became involved in the renovating business with his wife as a real estate agent

many would think that the youngest of the von holten clan had it easy, no event in her early life was enough to cause what would happen in the following years.

at sixteen, eden made the decision of finishing her schooling in new york, against her parents' wishes, but being the supportive pair they were, they had no choice but let their daughter move to the big city.

TW: eating disorder

something changed in those first weeks in new york, maybe it was being surrounded by the royalty of the city or the constant bombarding of slim models that prompted a switch in her.

at first it was not obvious, she reduced calories and signed up to the gym but as the months went by her obsession with calories and exercise only increased in an alarming way.

the teachers at school were the first to notice. and when they told her mother, she became very angry as she didn't want to accept the fact that she had a serious mental illness and needed help.

the summer before starting at columbia, her parents took her to the doctor where she was given an ultimatum, either she gained weight during the summer or would be sent to an eating disorder clinic but that didn't change anything and eventually was sent to the clinic, causing her to lose her first semester.

eden pushed herself to fight her anorexia, not wanting to be hospitalized and manage to be discharged before the start of the semester. despite her parents' reluctance to let their child alone again, she started studying astrophysics at columbia.

the past three years have been difficult for her, many times she has relapsed but on her own, she has managed to pull through but the increasing anxiety only gets worse, especially in finals time.

—. quick facts

from a young age, eden has felt a fascination for stars and space. she never thought of studying anything related with that until she was interned in the clinic and spent most of her time reading books about the subject

speaks fluent german and she still has a slight austrian accent as she speaks in that language with her family

loves Pomeranians, and if you see her Instagram is filled with pomeranians blogs

she's been to fourteen Elton John's concerts, the last one a few days ago on her birthday. safe to say she is a fan

fan of any hgtv show, her crushes are both property brothers

she has 'bought' stars for herself since no one does it for her lmao

betelguese is her favorite star

actually believes in horoscope

favorite song: freaking tiny dancer ofc

has watched the theory of everything too many times

used to firmly believed she was anastasia as a child, now she is happy watching the movie or musical

*** she is blonde rn but maybe at some point she will be a redhead (dont mind the gifs)

—. connections

here are some connections that at some point will be on a page or not, who knows?

older brother; i dont know how much older he is but probably around 2-4 years older.

best friend; if you are her best friend she'll name a star on your behalf and also look what it could be: x or x

enemies: i mean she's not one to create them but she cannot be liked by everyone and i need someone to get out her sassy side bc it's probably rusty from being nice

roommates: she lives in watt hall

first love; maybe it happened during her freshman year, you know i'm a hoe for angst so we can make it angsty af

friends with benefits; but really they would be very good friends that ended up sleeping together because she would need that sort of emotional connection to do it

person who took her virginity; okay, so i have this idea that before her first love eden was feeling a lot of pressure of being a virgin in college and went out on a date with this person and one thing led to another and she ended up losing her virginity. she felt very guilty and regretted the whole thing bc it's not what she would have wanted but what is done is done

awkward date; they went on a date that was so awkward that now they avoid each other

unrequited love; she could either have a crush on your character or viceversa, but lemme tell you that my girl can be shy so she probably just suffer and admire your character's perfection from afar

tutor or study buddies; someone that helps her in some of her classes or the other way around

club buddies; she is in various clubs like volleyball team, the german cultural society, model of the un and writes for the columbia lion

sorority sisters; yes pls i don't know which one she's part of but we can fit it to your character's.

[moonraccoon-exe]

hi hi hello!! i hope your days have been nice, filled with lots of yummy snacks and happy laughs and catchy songs!! ya boi back!!! i'm sorry i never send consistent asks,, i always think about sending you these asks, but i never have time asdfgfkldfg,, about the last ask, i was just bein sad, but things are a little better now for the most part!! thank you for you concern,, i don't deserve your niceness??? hhh??? your magic is so helpful and lovely aaaa??? i'm pretty sure it rly blessed me (1/?)

KALSJFKLASGJALK FJASKLGJ AKLAJKLADFJ ALSKJDASKLGJ AKJDLKAFJ AKLS JAS

CIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

*EXPLODES INTO A MILLION SNOWFLAKES*

KGKGAKLSJFKLADGJKAL 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S MY BOY CIRO (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

IT’S MY BOY, IT U, PRECIOUS TINY LIL GEMSTONE, CUPCAKE MADE OF SWEETNESS AND ADORABLENESS, MY LOVING AND LOVABLE RAY OF SUNSHINE, YOU WONDERFUL BEAUTIFUL SUPERB FUNKY CREATURE, LOOKAT YOURSELF, LOOK AT U, IT U, YOU’RE HERE, IT MY BOY CIRO, HE BACK, HE HERE, LOOK AT HIM GO, SPLENDID AND RADIANT AND FULL OF KINDNESS AND SWEETNESS AND SPARKLY STARDUST AND EVERYTHING THAT’S GOOD IN THIS WORLD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Lemme add a keep reading here, mah boi Ciro!

CIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! ❤

*MERCILESSLY TACKLES AND GLOMPS AND STAYS HUGGED TO YOUR HEAD AND NUZZLES AT IT AND SNUGGLES IT AND LOUDLY PURRS*

IT’S YOU!!!! IT’S THE LITTLE ANGEL OF SWEETNESS AND PURE KINDNESS AND SUNSHINE THAT I’M SO HAPPY AND BLESSED TO CALL A FRIEND,H I, HELLO CIRO, MY DEAR, MY CUPCAKE, SWEET LITTLE MUFFIN, HELLO, I LUV U I MISSED YOU I’M SO EXCITED AND YPED TO BE TALKING WITH YOU AGAIN, HELLO CIRO YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW ABSOLUTELY HAPPY I AM TO BE TALKING WITH YOU AGAIN, IT U!!!!!!!

AKLSJFKGALDJ LKADJFAKLS JGKLAGJAKLSDJ AKLSGJAKLSDJ KLSGJ ALKGJA ASKLJDASKLG AKLDJASKLGJ ALSKDJASKLGJ ALKSGJA

ABSOLUTELY MAJESTIC WONDER, LOOK AT YOURSELF, IT MAI BOI CIRO LOOKING RADIANT AND BEING HIS GOGEOUS SELF AND GAWDS LODS HEAVENS ABOVE HAVE MERCY ON ME I’M TOO EXCITED I’M D Y I N GKLAJSD KLAJG ALKJ

CIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! o(≧▽≦)o

ZOMG CIRO IT U! I’M SO HAPPY TO BE REPLYING TO YOU, YOU HAVE NO IDEA, I TRY TO CALM DOWN BUT I WANT TO CONTINUE VIRTUALLY PETTING YOU AND CALLING YOU GOOD THINGS BECAUSE ZOMG IT FEELS LIKE SO LONG SINCE WE LAST TALKED AND I’M SO HAPPY TO BE REPLYING TO YOU YOU HAVE NO IDEA AAAAHHHHHHHHHH

*SNUGGLES*

Ciroooooooooooooooo!!!! CIRO, HELLO!!!! ( ´ ▽ ` )

I’m gonna force myself to stop here or otherwise I won’t stop saying hello and names in 5 pages more, ahahah!

But zomg, Ciro, just know that I’m truly so so so so so so happy to be replying to you!!! HI HELLO THANK YOU FOR EXISTING AND FOR WRINTING TO ME

First of all, I’m very, very, VERY sorry for not replying earlier, my dear Ciro ;A; I’m taking this course…ah, long story dammit, but you see, education here is free, you just need to approve an exam, and because it’s been 3 years since I finished high school, I’m not fresh enough to present the exam and get the score I need, so I’m taking this course to prepare for it! It’s good but it’s three days a week, plus the homework, so I’ve been a bit busier than normal. 

I really think you deserve long and focused and proper answers, especially with an ask as beautiful as this, so I took a while until I found some proper time to write to you a proper reply, but zomg I didn’t think it’d take this long. I’m so sorry, dear Ciro OTL

Good thing is I had no classes yesterday or tomorrow so I have time!!

BUT ANYWAYS, ENOUGH OF MY EXCUSES, 

CIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I’M SO HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN, YOU PRECIOUS LITTLE JEWEL!!

I think your ask was here a couple days before I got my stuff stolen, right? Aaaw, ahaha. ;w; Sadly my days weren’t that bright back then. But it’s gotten better, thank you!!!

Not the brightest days, but I’m having fun!

AAND YUSH, CATCHY SONG!!!! I LOVE CATCHY SONGS!! I DANCE DANCE WRIGGLE BOUNCE TO CATCHY SONGS, THEY BE THE BEST AND I GET LOTSA EARWORMS! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

Just recently  found this pretty list on Youtube of pretty waltzes, and I’m a MAJOR DORK for waltzes, so I’ve been having a good time with music! And I took some of my savings to get new headphones; take the chance that mine were stolen to get better ones, and while it hurt in ythe wallet, DAMMIT, I regret nothing! My new headphones are WONDAHFUL!

But the best part is that MAH BOI IS BACK!!!!!! ZOMG HI HELLO CIRO I’M SO HAPPY TO READ YOU AGAIN, HELLO, YOU WONDERFUL LITTLE ANGEL

Don’t worry about not sending consisten asks, my friendo!!! It’s totally fine! I don’t give consistent answers, either. Peridot has been waiting for like a month so I reply to a personal ask zomg. I really understand the whole thing about not having time or the energy sometimes. So don’t apologize, my dear Ciro. The raccoonie isn’t going anywhere, so you take the time you need. I’ll be here

Though I do admit, hearing from you is always an absolute DELIGHT, like aklsjdakljgaklgj I drOWN IN THE GOODNESS OF ITZOMG 

And you know, I really value this ask! I know you’ve been busy so it only adds to how nice it is to be reading you; it means you took some of your time to write to me. And I really appreciate that, my dear Ciro. Really, thank you so so so much for the time you put into writing to this racccoonie. I value and treasure it a lot. I’m so happy to hear from you

I’m so very happy to know that things got better after the last ask!!!! YAY, WAY YOU GO, CIRO, YOU’VE GOT THIS!!! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Has it been okay since this ask? Getting better and better? I sure hope that’s the case. And if it’s not, worry not, mah boi Ciro, the maccoonie’s got ya!!! I’M HERE SENDING YOU THE HAPPIEST, LUCKIEST, FLUFFIEST, WARMIEST, BESTEST RACCOONIE MAGICAL VIBES!!!! Whether you’re doing okay or not, I send them anyway becuase you deserve them so much and I want you to be happy and bouncy!!! 

ALL THE MAGIC FOR YOU, MY BOI CIRO!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Also, please don’t say that you don’t desesrve my niceness, even if you mean it rethorically (?) or as a compliment or something. Don’t say that!!!  Not even as a joke, alright?  You deserve my concern and my niceness and my magic because you’re my friend and you don’t deserve any less. And even if you weren’t  my friend, you are you; and remember you’re an incredible hooman with a heart that radiates warm and good, with a very kind soul, a very beautiful creature that blesses the world with its presence, a little ray of light in this darkness, and a little shy and beautiful angel among all these demons. 

You deserve niceness and everything that’s good because that’s what you give! And everyone deserves to have only what they give, so of course you deserve the niceness and much more that not even I can offer. So you don’t say that again, okay, mah boi Ciro? You remember you deserve all the good and nice things!!! HUGS FOR YOU, BUDDY!! 

GASPS

YOU THINK MY MAGIC IS HELPFUL AND LOVELY!?!?! YOU REALLY THINK THAT!?!?!??!?!?! (╯✧▽✧)╯

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

I I I I I - I’VE WORKED HARD ON GIVING MY MAGIC SHAPE AND I WORKED HARD TO ENCHANT MY SPELLS SO I’M SO HAPPY TO KNOW THAT YOU THINK MY MAGIC IS HELPFUL AND LOVELY!!!! *SQUEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK* THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

And YOSH, it DEFINITELY blessed you!!! You think I send it just because? Or just to wish you a good day? NAH BUDDY, MY MAGIC REALLY WORKS, EVERY TIME!!! ( ˙꒳​˙ )

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASPS

And thank you SO MUCH for saying that you’re happy to see my normal happy tags back!!! THANK YOU!!! 

It really takes some time and energy to write them because I reblog so many things, but it’s SO worth it because I know you people like them, and I too enjoy freaking out. There’s just so much amazing art and stuff in this fandom, I can’t help my excitement!! 

Thanks a lot, seriously, for noticing that my happy tags are back, and for saying you’re happy to see them again! Even if you don’t read them all, that you notice them gives them sense. You don’t let them go to the void. Thanks a lot for acknowldging them, it feels the time and energy I put in writing them feel so noticed and worth it

I’’m very happy that you’re glad to see my tags back, and I’m happy to be writing them again!!! It feels refreshing, as tiring as it can get, haha

And I get what you mean about most blogs having no tags, or just 1 or 2 which are just to keep track of things? I mean, that’s perfectly okay!! And I understand that not everyone has the time to leave tag comments to the endless artworks and fanfics and posts, and hence don’t write any. But I agree about those posts looking sorta naked! It’s a little sad not knowing what people think of what they’re sharing.

Artists and authors put lots of effort and time and heart into what they do, so it feels a little wrong to just share without one word of what I thinkabout it, you know? It feels like a lot of blogs just take what they see, without even a little “Good work!”, so it’s a little sad. Mostly if YOU are the creator! Because you really want to know what others think, but it’s so rare that people comment. :C

That’s why I value a lot that creators take the time to read my tags! Because it’s so common that people don’t leave tags, that many creators don’t even bother on looking at them. So when they do and find mine, I feel heard and I feel happy to know that I made them happy!!! 

Thank you SO MUCH, dear Ciro!!! I’m so happy and I feel so proud, withthat comment you made about how I’m so nice to artists and authors. IT’s the less I can do!! Tumblr is the only place I can share my love for FFXV, which is really special to me, and there’s so much art and things, so many amazing, incredible things, and they’re for FREE?????? Honestly, it’s a BLESSING! More valuable than a treasure!! The less I can do is say what I think and let them know I think they did a good job; they make me happy and they share their hours and days of effort and work, it’s THEM who really deserve all the love and who are doing the magic; mytags are just the response of gratitude!!!!

Thank you so much for acknowledging that I do that. Thank you. Most times, I write the tags thinking of just the artist. It’s okay if other’s don’t read them, so long the artist does. So it makes me really h appy that you’ve noticed that I write the tags for them; whether they read it or not, I like to tell them what I think. Many times they go unnoticed.

So thank you for noticing them. It really makes me happy that you think it’s a good thing. It makes it feel even more worth it. And it motivates me a lot!!! Thank you so much for your kindness, dear Ciro

Ahahahahah!!! Aaw, dear Ciro!! Don’t apologize either for having many things to say! Didn’t you worry when you sent meyour first asks that you had nothing to say?? Don’t worry about having too much to say now!! You could really even just say hello, I’d be ecstatic; you could leave 10 asks, I’ll be happy!! It’s not how much you have to say or what you say, dear Ciro, it’s just the gift of getting to read you and reply to you what I love. So don’tapologize for how much you say!!

LKASJFSAKLG JAKLSFJA SKLGJA KLFJ ASKLFJGSALGKAJG LKAJFKLSAJG KLAJ

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SAYING THAT I GIVE YOU A LOT OF GOOD CONTENT!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH, THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!! SO SO SO HAPPY I CAN’T AKSLDJA

*UNCONTROLLABLY BOUNCES ALL ACROSS THE ROOM*

IT MAKES ME HAPPY!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SAYING THAT! You have no idea how happy it makes me aaahhhh, I put so much time into the blog because it makes me happy and I want to make others happy too, so that you think I have good content, it really makes me so HYPED AKLSJDKDLGJDA

Thank you, dear Ciro!!!! THANK YOU!!! I’m happy you’re enjoying of it

I know that sometimes I let other things slip, like Ace Attorney, or OC stuff, which is not to the interest of most, but I’m happy to know that you’re enjoying nonetheless. It really makes me happy and I value and treasure a lot that you think and say that!!! 

Aww, honestly, I’m still not over the fact that you’ve got notifications on. It makes me feela  little shy because I know I post SO MUCH and spam, so I can’t imagine your phone’s lock screen, hahaha (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

But thank you so much. It’s one of the nicest things someone’s told me they’ve done here. I can’t believe someone enjoys the blog so much!!! IT MAKES ME HAPPY AND MOTIVATED! THANK YOU

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOU TALK SO NICELY AND SINCERELY AND GREATLY ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU’RE ENJOYING THE BLOG HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REPLY TO SUCH SWEETNESS AND AMAZINGNESS OMG BUDDY WHAT AR EYOU DOING WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME LIKE THIS KALSJDL KGDAJD OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU’RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE FOLLOWERS AKSDLJSGDJ I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS AAHHHH THANK YOU ;A;

*Squeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak* All the Gladnis goodness!!! HOORAY FOR THE OTP! KASLJDAKDLGJ AKLGJ

And Loqi stuff, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!! I’m so in love with the fact that we have to extraoridynary japanese artists that relatively recently started drawing so much Loqi stuff. You seen them, surely. Inuiro and chinotto (I think Chinotto is half japanese only tough? Or they’re italian actually, I think, just they have fluent japanese? Confusing!). They have such incredible stuff!!! I’M SO BLESSED THAT MY LITTLE GOOD BEAN LOQI GETS LOVE

And you’re into Loqi stuff tooo!??!?!?! ZOMG CIRO!?!? YOU PRECIOUS WONDERFUL ANGEL, RIGHT WHEN I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T GET ANY B ETTER AND EPIC YOU GOT BETTER AND MORE EPIC AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOW IN THE WORLD AKSLJDKLDAG JAKLFJADGKLAJ ZOMG YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES GODS BLESS LOQI CONTENT AND LOQI FANS AND GAWDS BLESS YOU U SUPERB CREATUREYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSH!!! HOORAY FOR LOQI STUFF!! o(≧▽≦)o

Look at yourself, Ciro, you’re apologizing again!!! Hahaha, oh buddy, don’t do that! Now you’re apologizing for “not having anything immportant to say”, omg, dear Ciro. Remember what I told you the first itme you sent me asks!! I don’t care about “important” things or people. It’s you talking with me and that’s WONDERFUL as it is, no matter what you have to say!!! Please don’t apologize ever again, not when it’s for things like this, okay? :3

ASKLDJKLAGJA LKSDJASLKG ALKFJSKGAJ

YOU THINK I’M BIG IMPORTANTE!? AND BIG RAAD!?!?!?!?! IT MEEEEEEEEEEEE!?!?!?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*UNCONTROLLABLY BOUNCES ALL ACROSS THE ROOM WHILE ON FIRE AND SCREAMING*

ZOMG CIRO, HOW DAAAAAAAAAAAARE YOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU OMG AKLSJDKLAG KLASJDKLASJF CIROOOOOOO, CIRO YOU ABSOLUTE ANGEL OF SWEETNES, LOOK AT YOURSELF, HOW CAN SOMEONE THIS DEAR EXIST!?!?!?

You drop by just to tell me nice things and call me nice compliments and things?? Omg, Ciro, HOW DARE YOU SAY YOU HAVE NOTHING INTERESTING TO SAY!?!? YOU TAKE YOUR TIME TO DROP BY AND TELL ME ALL THESE WONDERFUL THINGS AND TO COMPLIMENT ME, HOW ARE YOU REAL? OMG YOU’RE SO SWEET AND SO KIND AND SO NICE AAAAHHHHHH MY HEART IS SO FULL ;A;

*CLINGS TO YOUR HEAD AND SNUGGLES IT*

OMG DEAR CIRO I WUV YA!!! I think you’re big importante and big rad, too!!! The radest rading creature. SWEETEST CUPCAKE MADE OF SWEETNESS. IT U. 

*PETS YOU*

Don’t apologize for not having any “creative nicknames”, buddy!!! It’s not like I’ll like you less for not having any creative name to call me

How is the creative slump going, though? Has it gotten better? Is it gone now? Zomg, I hope you’ve gotten to get rid of the block, my dear friend!! Creative blocks can be so frustrating and upsetting ;w;

YOU KNOW WHAT

IMMA BE SENDING YOU CREATIVE, LUCKY, POSITIVE, AND EXTRA MAGICAL VIBES SO THEY ELP GET RID OF THAT CREATIVE SLUMP, AYE, BUDDY!?!?

PREPARE YOURSEEEEEEELF

HERE I GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, MAGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!!!!!

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆

HAH, YEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!! BLESSING YOU WITH CREATIVITY AND LOTS OF HAPPY THINGS AND THOUGHTS!!!

ALKSJDKLAJ AKLSDJ AKLSGJAKLSDJASKLGAJGJA 

CIRO MY LOVELIEST, YOU WONDERFUL CREATURE, ♡

IT’S BEEN A BLESSING ANSWERING TO YOU

FUNKY LIL ANGEL IS SUCH AN ADORABLE AND CUTE NICKNAME THOUGH!? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THANK YOU SO MUCH, DEAR CIRO, YOU ALWAYS CALL ME SUCH SWEET THINGS, IT’S AMAZING AND SO DEAR AND SO SWEET, ZOMG I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’VE DONE TO DESEVE YOU, YOU AMAZING LIL ANGEL

Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, Ciroooooooooooooooooo!!!!

I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO happy to be replying to you again, my dear friend!! 

*CLINGS TO YOU AGAIN*

DEAR CIRO, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!

Thank you so much for taking the time to write to me! I really value that

I feel like I have yet so much I want to add and say, but I also want to post it right now zomg, it’s almost 9 for you, and I want you to see this I’M SO EXCITED TO BE REPLYING TO YOU!!

Dear Ciro, thank you. Thank you for everything I already said, and for just being you. Your presence alone is a gift and I feel honored to receive your asks. Thank you for being the incredible creature you are, so kind and sweet and dear. And thank you for sharing a bit of that with me

DEAR CIRO,

I hope you’ve been alright!!! I hope you’re doing better with that creative slump, and better in life and everything else. I hope your days have been happy and full of incredible and nice stuff. HERE’S THE MACCOONIE HOPING YOU’VE BEEN OKAY AND THAT  YOUR DAYS HAVE BEEN BRIGHT AND COLORFUL!!

By the way Ciro, happy late Halloween!! I don’t know if you celebrate it, but yeh, happy that in case you do

CIRO

I’M HERE SENDING YOU THE BIGGEST, WARMIEST, TIGHTEST AND SQUISHIEST RACCOONIE VIBES AND SNUGGLES.

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, MY DEAR FRIEND!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

I hope you’re having a MOST BEAUTIFUL night!! Hugs for you!! (ɔˆ⌣(ˆ⌣ˆc)

[acuppellarp]

Welcome (again) to A Cup-pella, Kai! We’re excited to have you and Lara James in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours. 

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Kai + she/her Age: 25 Timezone: EST Ships: LJ + an NSA-less world Anti-Ships: LJ + unhappiness

IC INFO

Full Name: Lara “LJ” Rae James Face Claim: Hayley Kiyoko Age/Birthday: January 28 / 25 Occupation: Member of Geek Squad at Best Buy + Full time student at NYU Personality: adaptable, charismatic, impulsive, extroverted, creative, clumsy Hometown: New York City, New York Bio: To say that Lara James’ childhood was a mess and a half would be speaking politely. From the moment that Lara was born, her parents struggled. Her mother was a waitress for a small diner located in the heart of Manhattan and her father was a handyman for an apartment building that liked to pay him under the table. While it was nice to not have to deal with the taxes taking money from his paychecks, it meant that sometimes, the main provider of the house was not bringing home enough money for the family to live comfortably. There were many times throughout Lara’s childhood that she remembered the lights flickering before going out for days on end. This was something that typically brought on hours of screaming and bickering between her parents about all issues surrounding money and the unhappiness that it brought to them. While Calvin and Melissa James always strived to bring the best for their daughter, sometimes their money situation could not even provide a well balanced dinner for their daughter for weeks on end. It was something that Lara always thought to be normal and casual amongst the children of her neighborhood, but after being labeled a few horrific names from her classmates, she knew that wasn’t the case.

As she grew, things never really got better. Her father kept losing job after job, stress taking over his life, and turning him into a man that was filled with anger instead of the happy, bubbly man that she always loved and adored. Her mother had lingering eyes for every male that came into the diner, always wondering what life would be like if she wasn’t strapped down by the suffocating lack of funds in her family. In fact, when Lara was just seven years old, her mother’s lingering eye is what took her away from her family. One night, Lara heard shuffling outside of her bedroom door and before she was able to investigate what was going on, her mother was gone. She had packed her few belongings and left Lara and her father to their own devices. Later on, Lara would find out that she had met a wealthy man who was capable of giving her more monetary happiness than her own flesh and blood ever could. It was something that made Lara see that the world was not always as kind and forgiving as she thought it was.

It took her mother’s departure from their lives for things to turn around for Calvin and Lara, however. Once there was no other means of money and income coming into the apartment, Calvin started working harder to get jobs that were well paying and reliable for work. He started looking in construction, quickly becoming employed with a company that actually made him fill out a W-2 and do things by the book. The money started coming in more readily, and Lara was seeing things that she never had before: birthday presents, dinner on the table every single night, random gifts of appreciation from her father, etc. While they didn’t have much, there wasn’t a single day in which the lights went out in their home.

It wasn’t until her fourteenth birthday that Lara received a gift from her father that opened a door in her life that she had never been prepared for: a personal laptop. There was not a lot of extra money lying around, but the hefty priced gift was something that was met with a beaming Lara and a very smitten Calvin that he had done so well by her. For that next coming years, Lara spent her life on her laptop. She researched everything she could find, downloaded all the free video games that she could come across, and taught herself everything the Internet could teach her about coding (which was a lot). Her research and fooling around online quickly came to a staggering halt the moment she turned sixteen whenever she thrusted herself into a job. While she was just working at Best Buy as a cashier, it was something that helped her father out in little ways whenever it came to bills and purchasing groceries. He was constantly protesting her from working as much as she did, but Lara liked that she was finally pulling her own around the house.

Once Lara graduated from high school (fourth in a class of a few hundred), she focused on working and nothing more. She had always dreamed of attending college, but dreams did not pay the bills at home and Lara was terrified of racking up a bill with student loan programs. She was happy though. She climbed the ranks at her local Best Buy and soon enough, she was partaking in the program of Geek Squad. She got to spend time doing what she loved most, handling technology, and was getting paid in the meantime. It only took a couple of years and soon enough, Lara had padded her savings account enough to fly from her nest of a home. It was something that Calvin struggled with, but she was only living a subway trip away from his clutches.

Living on her own was something that Lara quickly found to be a lot more complicated than she had thought. She wanted to be the independent individual she always knew she was, but rent was hard to make every single month. Because of such a thing, Lara was quick to look for roommates. After a few duds came into her life, she came across Evie Miller. She was everything that Lara found annoying in a person, but for the sole purpose of wanting entertainment around her apartment, she decided to sign the lease with allowing her to move in. While it may have taken a couple of months, Lara and Evie soon became inseparable. Not to mention, Evie was the person who inspired and encouraged Lara to start following her dreams and enroll in college. Lara isn’t shy to tell anyone that her roommate is the reason behind her college success, but she keeps it under wraps that while she is attending school for a Computer Science degree, she’s also enrolled in a full time honor’s program. Pets: N/A Relationships:

Evie Miller: At first meeting, Evie was the opposite of the kind of person that LJ wanted to associate herself with. She was the happy-go-lucky type that was constantly barging into her room with her wide smile and multitude of stories, which always made Lara question her decisions about agreeing to be her roommate. However, as time has passed, Lara has considered Evie to be one of her closest friends in life. She’s the epitome of a ‘ride or die’ for Lara.

Matt Solis: For a person that runs the other way from love and actively states that it does not exist, she fell rather hard for Matt. They got along from the very beginning of meeting, and from the moment they kissed, Lara knew that she was screwed. She was wrapped around Matt’s pinky finger up until the moment that her heart was broken. Matt was returning to her ex-girlfriend and leaving Lara in the dust. While she puts on a brave face and acts like everything is okay, Matt is always going to be Lara’s one that got away.

ACup baristas: Since Lara was heavily involved with one of the baristas, Lara spent a lot of time at the establishment. She even made sure to keep her menu hacking skills to a minimum whenever it came to being part of the customer sea.

EXTRA INFO

MON$TA LJ / @laranotcroft/description: sometimes i legitimately believe i might be the love child of a trash can and steve buscemi

Five latest tweets:

@laranotcroft: my top 5 best life moments is still when Smash Mouth RT’d me thats when i truly became an all star @laranotcroft: anyone gotta dollar ??? my bank account would be at $69 then and lemme tell you that would be delish @laranotcroft: i like that one ariananana song that goes like GET IT GET IT GET IT HIT IT HIT IT HIT IT FLIP IT FLIP IT FLIP IT bc it really outlines my style of sex @laranotcroft: im only a heaux whenever melted cheese is in the pic <3 @laranotcroft: I WAS ALLOWED INTO CANADA AHAHAHA FUCK YOU @NSA YOU DON’T HAVE SHIT ON ME HENNIES :)

[ofthemagnolias]

I want to take a second to explain what it costs me on a daily basis to maintain the pretense of being just as capable as an able bodied, healthy person. I wake up so stiff I have to set my alarm 2 hours ahead of when I need to get up to give my limbs time to thaw out enough that I can get out of bed. I take 300mg of lyrica, 60mg of cymbalta, and 30mg of baclofen a day — mind you, this doesn’t get rid of the pain, it just dulls my senses enough that I can function. I spend every waking moment that I’m upright white knuckling it, hoping I don’t step down harder from a curb than I mean to or wincing when someone at work gives me a slap on the back. I lift, bend, carry, lug, hoist, and drag luggage and various hotel detritus for 8 hours while smiling, welcoming guests and telling them all about our fair city, all the time responsible for properly running credit cards and splitting bills. There is literally not a second of the last 6 months that I haven’t been exhausted or in agony, and still I /do/ like my body isn’t a crumbling labyrinth preparing to sink into the sea. Fibromyalgia has over 200 symptoms, any of which can appear during a flare. Some of the fun ones I’ve got this time around are burning any time and anywhere the sun touches me, gaining 30 pounds from stress and the inability to work out, edema of the hands/feet/legs, and the constant feeling that I’m filled with slowly cooling magma. Some days I’m too tired to lift a fork to my mouth and eat. At home I drink from straws so I don’t have to lift a cup. I spend up to 4 hours a day soaking in scalding water to soothe the ache followed by ice cold water to reduce inflammation. I work 40+ hours a week and am in school for ~24 hours a week. I want a future. I am in 2 kinds of therapy to combat the overwhelming sadness that comes with my reality. I want to make art and build an empire and be visible to the world, and 9/10 times i have to make a concession to my health that slows me down. I am doing everything I can to be the person I was when this year started, but I’ll never get better. So please, before you think to suggest something regarding #fibromyalgia or #cfs, lemme stop you. I’ve tried it. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bn-GQplhOu8vdHD7_18SzVR8zxypaFV2RISOso0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1e716b9bv76fc

[this-book-has-been-loved]

Of Robots and Rocketships: Chapter 2

For @platonicvldweek​ day 2: Lion / Lamb

Chapter 1

Read it on Ao3 | Read it on FFN

It was Katie who texted first.

Two days after the competition (two days of Hunk not wanting to be the first one to say anything cuz would that be seen as too clingy??) his phone went off.

Katie: hey! how’ve you been? dad said he was sorry he missed you

A thousand thoughts were running through his head. He stared at the message for a long time, mentally dissecting it, trying to think of how best to respond.

The last part especially stuck out to him, since it implied two very important things: firstly, that Katie (and Matt?) had told their dad about him--and secondly, that Dr Holt actually wanted to meet him.

Hunk took a deep breath, quelling his thoughts, before starting to type out a response.

Hunk: Hi! I’ve been pretty good, you? And I’m sorry your dad couldn’t make it too; maybe next time?

Okay. That was good, right? Open, friendly, not too eager—

He was taking this too seriously.

He flopped over backwards onto his bed with a groan. Why was this so hard?

Katie: unfortunately ‘next time’ isnt until next year unless youre going to robocup

Hunk: I don’t think so :/

Katie: boo

They went on like that a little longer, making small talk about the little things, the things they already knew about each other. After about half an hour, the conversation dwindled to a stop. And it was days before it was picked up again.

It started that way at first: brief conversations, making general small talk, testing the waters. As the months went by, they got more and more comfortable with each other; by the time winter melted into spring came around, they were texting nearly every day, about the smallest things.

Katie: what about ur dad?

Hunk: Oh actually I don’t have one

Katie: oh shoot im sorry

Hunk: No that’s not what I meant XD I don’t have a dad cuz I have two moms

Katie: OH

“So who’s Katie?”

Hunk glanced up at his mom in surprise. “What?”

She gestured towards his phone, which was sitting on the table a foot away from him while he read. “You got a text message, sweetie.”

Hunk lunged for his phone, opening the message in a rush.

Katie: random question: star wars or star trek?

“It’s that girl he met at the competition back in Flagstaff,” Mama called from the next room.

“Phoenix,” Hunk corrected offhandedly. “Flagstaff is where her school was from.”

Hunk: Aw come on, you can’t make me choose!

Katie: help me win an argument against my brother

Katie: help me obi wan kenobi youre my only hope

“Oh, you made a friend?” Mom continued. “That’s great! What’s she like?”

“Um,” Hunk mumbled, still distracted. “Well, she likes peanut butter. And peanut butter cookies? But not peanuts, she says they’re too dry.”

Hunk: I’m sorry Katie, I’m going to have to go with Star Trek. The tribbles episode owns my soul

Katie: I CANT BELIEVE THIS

“Oh!” Hunk added with a smile, setting his phone down and giving his mom a starry-eyed look. “And you’ll never guess who her dad is!”

Hunk: So...what’s up?

Katie: i am eating peanut butter by the spoonful and i couldnt be happier

Hunk: Sounds like a day well spent :P

Mid-February, Katie was in class, her phone in her lap hidden under her desk. She and Hunk only had an hour difference in time zones, but that still lead to schedule conflicts. Hunk had texted her when he got out for lunch; Katie, and hour later, was already back in class after her own lunch break.

But that didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation.

(It’s not like Mr Hedrick was teaching anything new, anyways.)

Hunk: I’ve actually been looking into the garrison application process. I’ve been wanting to go there for ages and I’ll finally be old enough this fall

Katie: !!!!!!!!!

Katie: DUDE YOU TOTALLY SHOULD

Hunk: I want to!! But the application is pretty intensive

Katie: aw come on i know you can do it

Hunk: Thanks ^_^

Hunk: What about you, are you you applying?

Katie: still too young *eyeroll* its still a few more years till i turn 16

Hunk: What??

Katie: dude im like 12

Katie: i turn 13 in april

It was a couple minutes before he responded, and Katie bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing out loud in the middle of class.

Hunk: But you’re in high school?

Hunk: I’ll be honest here, I thought we were the same age O.O

Katie: yeah i skipped 7th and 8th grade

Hunk: :O

Hunk: You’re like a little child genius or something

She stifled another laugh with a cough. She glanced up to make sure that the teacher hadn’t looked over, then went right back to her phone.

Katie: yeah thats what they told me

Katie: probably explains why this class is so fucking boring

Hunk: LANGUAGE

Hunk: Wait are you in class right now??

Katie: ....quite possibly

Hunk: Get off your phone, young lady, and pay attention!!

Katie: but i already know all thiiissssss

Hunk: Respect your elders

Katie: booooooo

Hunk: (•̀o•́)ง

Katie: omg you nerd

Katie: fiiiiine

Hunk: I’ll talk to you once you get home from school ^_^ ♥

She smiled down at her phone screen before closing out of the messages app. Part of her was tempted to just pull up something else—a book, or the web browser—but she stopped herself with a sigh. She turned off the phone, stuffing it into her back pocket.

Later.

Hunk: I just thought you were really short, I didn’t realize you were a BABY

Katie: i hate u

The Garrison application process was even more daunting when he was actually filling it out. In the past, when he would look it up online to mentally prepare himself for the day when he’d finally get to fill it out, it all seemed so easy.

But now, he was starting to think he was biting off more than he could chew.

Between the GPA requirements, the essay, the mechanical skills project, the letters of recommendation, the other essay, the entrance exam, the preliminary engineering classes—

It was a lot.

And it was especially a lot when he had to juggle all that in addition to his regular schoolwork. Hunk glared at the pre-calc textbook open on his desk until the numbers all swam together.

He groaned, slamming the book shut and leaning back in his chair.

His phone vibrated, and he reached for it blindly.

Katie: maybe a rover-type probe? like what you guys did for the comp. that was pretty good

Hunk let out a long slow exhale. The physical project was causing him the most trouble at the moment, having to prove his engineering prowess by building something all on his own. It was arguably the most important part of the application, and Hunk had no clue what to do for it.

Hunk: Yeah but if I’m going to get into the garrison then my project needs to be more than just GOOD

Katie: how about a robotic turtle

Hunk: ...why?

Katie: why not

Hunk: I can probably think of a few reasons

Katie: turtles are cool bro

Hunk: Fair enough

A weary smile had managed to break through his look of frustration. Hunk glanced back at the pre-calc book, then sighed again as he slowly opened it back up.

One thing at a time.

Katie: bro u should go to bed its 1am

Hunk: Which means it’s 2am for you, right?

Katie: yeaahhh but i drank coffee mixed with redbull a couple hours ago im good

Hunk: KATIE NO

Matt and Sam made a point to come home on the weekends, and it was an occasion that Katie relished in.

She spent her days in Matt’s room, lying on his bed and keeping him company while he worked at his desk. She had her phone open to the messages app, idly relaying her conversation with Hunk to her brother.

“Yeah, Hunk has been working on his application for the Garrison.”

“Really?” Matt asked, spinning in his office chair. “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, he’s going in for engineering,” she continued. “I’m really excited for him.”

“Does he need a letter of rec?”

“Um, lemme ask,” she replied, already typing.

Katie: matt wants to know if u need a letter of rec

It was a bit before he responded, and she watched the typing bubble appear, then disappear, then appear again. She smirked.

Hunk: Oh my god

Hunk: We only met once, does he know me well enough?

Katie rolled her eyes, reading the message out loud to Matt.

“Psh, ‘course I do,” Matt said flippantly. “I got to see his work back at the competition, and that’s the most important part, if I’m being honest.”

Katie: dude. you guys talked for ages about engineering crap

Hunk: Oh gosh. I don’t want to inconvenience him at all.

“He says he doesn’t want to inconvenience you.”

Matt let out a long groan. “Oh come on, I’m already writing them for Alec and Luca, what’s one more? I like Hunk.” He paused, thinking. “Here, ya know what, give me the phone.” He grabbed the phone from Katie’s hands without waiting for her response.

“Hey,” she protested, but Matt merely shushed her and continued to type away.

“There,” Matt said with a smirk as he hit send. A minute later, the phone vibrated, and Matt cackled, already typing a response.

“What did you say?!” Katie demanded, lunging for the phone.

Matt easily evaded her reach. “You’ll see,” he said cryptically. “But I think I’ve gotten through to him.”

When the phone went off again, Matt let out a cheer. “Alright,” he said triumphantly, tossing the phone back to Katie. “We are a go!”

Hunk: Happy birthday!!! (＾▽＾)

Katie: im officially a teenager bitch!!

Hunk: LANGUAGE!

Hunk: Jeez Katie you’re a little baby, you shouldn’t be saying stuff like that, you’re practically an infant!!

Katie: fuck

Hunk: /_(0{}0)_\

It was the middle of dinner when her phone went off.

“Katie,” her mom scolded as the girl grabbed at her phone and opened the message.

Katie ignored her, waving her hand impatiently. “Shh, it’s important!”

“Katherine, what could possibly—”

Colleen was interrupted by Katie’s sudden squeak of excitement. “He got in!!!” she squealed.

“Hunk?” Matt asked, beaming. “That’s great!”

Across the table, Sam’s eyes had lit up. “Fantastic!” he proclaimed. “Tell him congratulations for me,” he said. “I look forward to working with him.”

“Careful,” Katie warned, already typing. “You’re gonna break him.”

Katie: dad says hes looking forward to working with you. he and matt wish you congratulations

Hunk: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hunk: Thank you!!!!!!!! ＼(≧▽≦)／

Katie: hunk.exe has stopped working

It was summer when the Galaxy Garrison officially announced the Kerberos mission, naming the daring crew of astronauts who’d be going on the shuttle, and setting a predicted launch date in September.

The announcement made every headline imaginable, national and international news, NASA, a blurb in Katie’s high school’s newsletter, and just about every online publication in existence.

Katie was doing her homework at time, her phone stashed at the bottom of her backpack. With her headphones in, she didn’t hear it vibrating, too engrossed in her chemistry work.

She had ten new messages by the time she closed her textbook and fished out her phone.

Hunk: DUDE!!!!!

Hunk: I JUST SAW THE NEWS

Hunk: KERBEROS??? THAT’S SO COOL!!!

Hunk: THIS IS SO COOL

Hunk: That’s literally BILLIONS OF MILES AWAY

Hunk: And IT’S A MANNED MISSION

Hunk: THE FARTHEST MANNED MISSION FROM EARTH

Hunk: THIS IS HISTORY IN THE MAKING OH MY GOD

Hunk: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR DAD AND YOUR BROTHER ARE GOING TO PLUTO THIS IS SO COOL

Hunk: Sorry for spamming I’m just REALLY EXCITED

She laughed, carrying her phone and her laptop onto her bed where she could stretch out more comfortably. She flopped over onto her back, holding the phone above her face.

Katie: oh did that get announced today???

Katie: theyve been planning for months im so jealous

Hunk: Aaaaaaa this is all so exciting!

Hunk: I’m just

Hunk: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Katie: same

Katie: kerberos must be so cool

Katie: hunk lets go to outer space

Hunk: Let’s do it

Garrison cadet move-in day was in mid-August.

She got his room assignment from her dad. He’d been more than happy to check the student records for her and send her a quick message with the hall name, floor, and room number.

Katie, not even 13-and-a-half, much too young to be one of the students moving in today, walked confidently down the halls, weaving in and out of parents and students.

Presently, she heard his voice up ahead, coming out of one of the many open door. An excited grin spreading across her face, she ran the last few yards to his room. Bracing her hands on the doorframe, she stuck her head into the room, shouting, “Surprise!”

Inside the room, Hunk yelped as he whirled around in shock. As soon as he caught sight of her, his guard dropped and he broke into a smile. “Katie!” He tackled her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground.

Katie laughed. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“What are you doing here? Wait, no, stupid question.”

She giggled. “I came in with Dad and Matt. They went to do professional officey things, like boring adult paperwork or whatever.”

“Ah, the worst part of adulthood,” Hunk said, nodding sagely. “Don’t worry, Katie, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

She elbowed him. “Shut up.”

He laughed for a moment, and Katie realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room. Standing bemusedly by the closet was a woman who looked so much like Hunk she could only be his mother. She had a gentle smile on her face as she watched the two of them.

Hunk followed Katie’s gaze, and his eyes widened. “Oh, this is my mom,” he said, gesturing to the woman. “Or, well, you know. One of them.”

“Hi,” Katie said, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Garrett.”

“Please, call me Lani,” the woman said, shaking Katie’s hand. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Katie. Hunk has told me so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” Katie said, casting a dry glance at Hunk. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck out hers at him.

“Only the best,” Lani reassured her with a wink.

“So how have you been?” Hunk asked. “It’s so good to see you! We should, like, hang out at some point and catch up.”

“Oh!” Katie interjected. “Mom told me to invite you guys over for dinner,” she added.

Hunk gasped, and Katie could have sworn she saw stars in his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” she echoed. “Please?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Hunk cried. He looked over to his mom. “Right? That’s okay?”

Lani smiled at her son widely. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll go find Kiana.” She squeezed Katie on the shoulder as she walked past her to head out of the room.

“Dinner,” Hunk breathed. “With Doctor Samuel Holt.”

She snorted. “I promise you, he’s a normal person. Just kind of a nerd. But hey, I mean, so are you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Katie.”

Hunk: The Kerberos launch is only a couple weeks away, omg

Katie: i knowww im so jealous

Katie: i might just stowaway on the shuttle tbh

Hunk: That sounds potentially life-threatening, please do not

Hunk watched the Kerberos launch live on TV.

They’d only allowed family to watch from the ground, and though Katie had offered to try to sneak him in, he’d declined. Instead, he watched it on the massive projection screen that the Garrison had set up for students.

In some of the camera shots, he could make out the tiny purple-clad figure of Katie on the observation deck, standing beside her mother.

“This truly is a momentous day in human history,” the newscaster was saying. “If successful, the Kerberos Mission will mark the farthest that anyone has traveled from Earth. We’re making history here, folks.”

The launch was glorious. With a blast of fire and a cloud of smoke, the shuttle took off, the cameras trained on it all the way out of the atmosphere, until it was just a tiny speck against the blue of the sky. The crowd gathered in the Garrison commons room let out a cheer. Hunk’s roommate, an aspiring pilot named Lance, propped his elbow on Hunk’s shoulder.

“That’s gonna be us someday,” Lance told him with surprising conviction. “Seeing the stars, traveling to worlds never before seen.”

Hunk smiled. “I can’t wait.”

Hunk: Oh my god

Hunk: Katie I’m so sorry oh my god

Hunk: Are you okay?

Hunk: Sorry, stupid question

Hunk: Can I do anything to help?

Hunk: Katie?

✓ Read 11:17 PM