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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!! :3

Just binge read all your Victor Vale works and I'm in love istg. Was wondering if you would wanna do a slightly longer one shot about Victor being really stressed and accidentally lashing out in his sleep and reader calming him down??

Wow, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed them! I wasn't sure how long you wanted it but I hope this is long enough. This is a great plot and I had a ton of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: spoilers for Vicious and Vengeful, angst, fluff, canon typical violence/action/danger, brief mention of torture, Victor gets touchy toward the end.

Word Count: 6k+ words (my longest yet!)

Picture from Pinterest

A Comforting Touch

✯3 Months Ago, After Midnight✯

“Scintillating isn’t it?” you ask the man beside you.

He flips his newspaper down, pale skin and intense eyes glaring at you. “What?” he asks.

“The story,” you answer, pointing to the newspaper. “From a hero to a murderer that fast. As if we couldn’t tell from his stupid smile and stupider mask that he was a psycho.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Eli Ever, the guy in the story you’re reading. Wait, can you read? Or do you just sit behind a newspaper in a black trench coat to look smarter?” you tease, smiling over your cup.

“How long have you been in Merit?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Long enough to know that he wasn’t what he seemed and disappeared frighteningly soon after you arrived.”

“Frighteningly? Then why are you talking to me?”

“Frightening is not synonymous with uninteresting, my friend.”

His brows draw together as he studies you, a scrutinizing eye traveling up and down your frame and then searching your face.

“You like what you see or is this a Clark Kent x-ray vision thing? Searching my brain for my true intentions, yeah?”

“How much do you know?”

“Let’s just say, Eli Cardale’s research may be a little more widely studied after what he did. I’m sure you know more than anyone since you’re supposed to be dead and he’s rotting in prison for your murder.”

He drops the paper to the table and cocks his head at you. “I’m Victor.”

“And you want me to come with because you’re scared I’ll talk?”

“Something like that.”

✯Present Day✯

“Stop that,” you demand as Victor tosses a dry Sharpie in the trash.

Victor’s hand falters as he reaches for another one, considering listening to you before he uncaps it and continues editing.

“Victor, stop. Seriously,” you repeat, moving closer to him.

When he doesn’t, you reach past him and snatch the marker out of his hand. He turns toward you, his anger leaking out.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

You point to the television, and his face drops as he reads the breaking news line. Increasing the volume, he avoids looking at you as the reporter speaks.

“The police were praised for their efforts in dismantling the murderous cult operating under the title of ‘EON,’ but that praise is now gone. With the recent discovery of several bodies bearing typical EON torture markings, the government fears that the group, or a new community operating similarly, is acting in our city. More on this story at 6,” the reporter finishes.

Victor clicks the remote, and the screen goes black. He begins pacing, ignorant of your requests to talk to him.

“Victor!” you yell, stepping in front of him.

“Move. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does now. You going out there? That concerns me. You taking Sydney out there? Also concerns me. So, talk to me,” you respond, stepping toward him.

“You don’t know everything. EON isn’t a threat to you, but it is to us. You’re a liability now,” he seethes.

“Which is my choice,” you argue, still in his face. “Like it or not, I’m here and I’m invested, so get over yourself and talk to me. Let me help.”

“No.”

“Fine. Then I’ll just go. If I’m a liability here, what am I out there? Oh, that’s right, dead.”

Victor’s nostrils flare, nearly unnoticeable. He drops his head toward you.

“You’re brave, but don’t expect me to stay close enough to save you all the time.”

“Oh, I’d never expect that of you.”

You step back and spin on your heel before returning to your room. Sydney passes you in the hallway and can tell by the look in your eye that Victor crossed a line. Which isn’t unusual, she supposes.

“What did you do?” she asks when she sees Victor.

“Nothing.”

“Maybe that’s the problem then.”

Victor agreed to let you tag along because you have a knack for connecting dots that seem unconnected. You know things you shouldn’t and find things too fast. He’s also simultaneously impressed and intimated by your willingness to fight him when he could kill you with a glance. You have no power or protection aside from him, yet you rush into danger with no regard for yourself. Yes, you’re brave but reckless, and when you are not near him, Victor can’t keep you safe.

“EON is back, so she’s not really top of the list right now,” Victor explains, retrieving his stolen marker.

“So? We left Merit and everyone thinks you’re dead. We’re not in danger,” Sydney points out.

“Not right now. But these people aren’t going to give up. Someone knows you’re out there, Mitch is still an escaped convict, record or not, and it’s only a matter of time. We need to find them before they even think to find us.”

“Hurt them first,” Sydney quotes. “But don’t hurt the people closest to you in the process, Vic.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Based on Victor’s calculations, there isn’t much time until EON realizes Sydney is still out there because Eli knew she was. Then, they’ll look for him and eventually figure out that he and his cellmate, Mitch, escaped from prison together before the event in Merit. Several sleepless nights have brought him no closer to finding EON, but now Victor has a new concern. Someone is following them, and he thinks he knows who.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where was EON before?” you ask.

Mitch answers the question while Victor grumbles something under his breath.

“They didn’t dump bodies, though. So if this new EON or copycats, whatever they are, do dump bodies when they’re done… what makes you sure that it’s EON and not just a serial killer?” you pose.

Mitch tilts his head as he says, “That’s not a bad theory. Without an autopsy report, we can’t know if the torture was the same as EON.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Victor snaps. “EON never tortured EOs exactly the same. Until they found your power, yes, but then it got specific.”

“What about the people who died before they found any powers, or which hopefully didn’t happen, they were wrong, and it was just an ordinary person? Wouldn’t they have identical markings in that case.”

“Or maybe someone reincarnated Jack the Ripper, I get what you’re saying but it’s not helpful,” Victor says.

You nod once at Mitch and round the corner to stand beside him. He has two autopsy reports open, one that has been directly linked to EON and one of the recent victims. Two matching marks are present: a small letter and a number carved into the skin of the victim’s inner wrists. One has an E and 2, the other F and 4.

“Victor?” you ask carefully. “Did Eli have a mark on him before he died? Like a number or word or anything?”

“Why does that matter?” Victor doesn’t look up from his project as he asks. “He’s dead.”

“I know, but if there was a marking or tattoo, anything that could make him stand out,” you trail off.

Victor sighs and curls his right hand into a fist. “I think so. The letter I, but it was lowercase.”

“No number?” you ask.

“Nope.”

“So, I would be…”

“Immortal, invincible?” Mitch suggests.

You nod, and Victor finally looks up.

“What are you saying?” he asks, impatient and irritated.

“EON was marking people with their power and a number,” Mitch answers.

“What’s the number?”

“Well, if Eli didn’t have one, that could mean something,” you point out.

“What are R and E? Those could help us determine what those numbers could mean,” Mitch suggests.

“Show me their files?” you request.

He navigates to all records for ‘E,’ formally known as Riley Garrick. You point to his medical records and then to a hospital report. The file contained a recorded resuscitation after Garrick was electrocuted and died on the table. They used an AED, another electric shock, to get his heart beating normally again.

“Electricity,” you say with Mitch.

“What about F?” you ask.

“Walter Knox,” Mitch reads. “Died and was brought back a few years ago. Death was caused by… freezing. He contracted hypothermia and succumbed before his body temp was brought up and his heart restarted.”

“How was he killed by EON?” you ask.

“Let’s see,” Mitch hums. “He… froze to death.”

“And E, or Garrick?”

“Electrocuted.”

“Then the numbers could be how many times they proved their powers worked before,” you suggest, trailing off again.

“Or how many times they reached the brink and came back, because of their powers, before they didn’t come back,” Victor adds. “It’s not a bad theory. Doesn’t help us find EON though, so congratulations on your waste of time.”

“It wasn’t a waste of time, Vic,” you argue. “Knowing what they’re doing, knowing how they’re doing it, is invaluable.”

“Then where are they?” he asks, looking up at you. “Even just a building type would be more helpful than this. Warehouse? Shipping container? You have no more information than before.”

“Not true. We know that this EON is doing the exact same thing as before. They are experimenting on EOs to find powers and test them to the limit. For all we know, they’re searching for the next Eli and don’t care how many people they kill to get there.”

Victor’s eyes narrow at you before he looks away again.

“You’re welcome,” you say under your breath.

“That’s a lot of information on a couple pictures,” Victor adds. “Makes you wonder how much of it is true and how you figured it out.”

Mitch rolls his eyes, and you shrug before walking out, wondering why Victor is so cranky.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She knows. That’s why she’s right. And you know how she knows? Because she was there, they told her, and now she’s just waiting to lead them to you. You know someone is following you, Vic. Ask yourself when that started, how she got into your life. She’s coming for you.”

Victor wakes up, his skin tingling as pain emits from his body. He turns it off and sits back. It makes sense; you showed up just in time to deal with the return of EON, and you know so much. The dreams are distracting and causing his power to activate involuntarily, so Victor needs to find EON quickly and get the truth from you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor is snapping at you, Sydney, and Mitch more than usual. He’s always sarcastic and pushy, but it hasn’t been this bad in the past.

“Victor?” you ask, stepping into his open bedroom door. “Can we talk?”

He looks up, wide-eyed until he gains control of his expression again. “Sure.”

“Are you okay? You seem really stressed and I hear you walking around at night, so I know you aren’t sleeping much. I’m just- I’m worried about you.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” he mutters under his breath. “I’m fine,” he says to you. “Just having some trouble sleeping but nothing is wrong.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll sleep better after we find EON, right?” you ask with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

You nod and press your lips together before walking out. He’s not convincing, and you know something else is bothering Victor, but don’t know what. If it’s just EON causing problems, why isn’t he listening when you try to help?

Victor watches you leave and counts your steps to the end of the hall before yawning. He can’t hide the tiredness, but as long as you don’t pick up the stress and growing paranoia hiding beneath it, he’ll be okay. Victor Vale refuses to appear weak; he pushes everything under the surface until he has the answers he craves. Maybe the ghost in his dreams will also return to where it belongs.

✯✯✯✯✯

You begin working through the night, desperate to find answers, hoping it will help Victor. There’s a notebook on your nightstand half-full of possible locations for EON. Then you start wondering if they’re operating from one place or moving around to evade the police. Charting all the listed and possible locations on the map, you zoom out to look for a pattern and gasp as you see the last thing you expect. There is a pattern, and it's nearly complete. One more location and countless bodies, and EON will either be finished with their mission or just starting.

Getting out of bed, you walk to Mitch’s room and knock. He opens the door, and you see the light of his laptop behind him.

“We need to talk,” you say, walking in as he steps back.

He closes the door behind you, and you begin sharing everything you’ve learned.

“I don’t know if knowing where they are is enough, though,” you say.

“You want to know who and why?” Mitch guesses.

“It would be helpful. Otherwise, we’re going in blind. But we also don’t know how much time we’ve had. None of the dates match up, there’s different times between each body dump.”

“Did you check it for a pattern?” Mitch asks. “The locations mean something, right? Maybe the times do, too.”

You sit beside him and read dates as he types everything into a spreadsheet. The months don’t mean anything, and there’s no pattern, so you move on to compare the dates but come up empty there.

“Sorry, I thought there might be something here, too,” Mitch apologizes.

“Wait, Mitch, can you get the numbers for the days between the discoveries?” you ask. He presses a few keys, and a new list of numbers appears. “They’re all below 27,” you cheer.

“It’s a code,” Mitch whispers as he enters the number into a new text box.

The numbers disappear, replaced with letters, as a message is revealed.

“That’s… somehow worse than what I was expecting,” you admit.

“Should we tell Vic?” Mitch asks.

“He’s got enough on his plate.”

“You can’t deal with this alone.”

“Who said I was going alone?” you ask as you walk to the door. “Talk tomorrow, Mitch, thanks for the help.”

“How am I supposed to sleep after what I just read? How are you?”

“Drink some chocolate milk, Mitch. You’ll be alright.”

“And you?”

You shrug as you answer, “I ended up sitting beside Victor for a reason. Maybe this is it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor hears your quiet knock against Mitch’s door before you enter, and the door closes again. He tries to eavesdrop but can only catch a few words. Victor hears something about a pattern, numbers, and going somewhere alone. He also hears that you’re not planning to tell him something. More secrets. Victor returns to his room when he hears you return to Mitch’s door. He knew you were hiding something, but you just confirmed it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch makes breakfast the following morning, and you are the last to wake up and join everyone in the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep?” Mitch asks.

“How’d you sleep?” you parrot, smiling knowingly with dark circles under your eyes.

“Any news about EON?” Victor interjects, his dark circles far more pronounced than yours. He looks exhausted, and if he were younger or easier to convince, you’d force him to take a nap.

“Not much,” you answer. “Maybe you were right and I’m looking in the wrong area. There’s tons of circumstantial evidence but the police can’t do anything with that, so I probably can’t either.”

Victor can physically feel the stress coursing through his veins. His cortisol is trying to kick him into fight mode, but he tamps it down, like every other emotion he covers. He feels your eyes on him and glances over to see your furrowed brows and concerned look.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly.

“Just as good as the last time you asked. If there’s something I want you to know, I’ll tell you,” Victor answers, plenty of bite to back his bark.

You nod. “Sorry. But I’m here when you’re ready.”

Sydney sees his eyes roll, and the muscles in his jaw tick, but you turn away and miss it. She knows, as well as you do, that he’s sleep-deprived and stressed, but he shouldn’t be taking it out on his team - his family. Maybe he could be convinced to save the stress, anger, and everything else he’s feeling to take on EON. You’d have to convince him, she thinks, because you’re the only one with any ability to get through to him. Whatever forges your connection and gives you some semblance of power against or over him seems to have dissipated with his constant jabs and stressed-out remarks.

Hopefully, it’s not too late. EON needs to be taken down, but not at the cost of Sydney’s family and your presence in her life.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Victor, I know you said to leave it alone, but please try to get some sleep. You’re working hard and we appreciate it more than you can know, but it’s killing you,” you plead.

“I’ll turn off the pain, it’ll be fine,” he argues.

“Then could you do it for me?” you ask, laying a hand on his arm. He flinches but doesn’t shy away from your touch, and a tiny glimmer of hope that you have a chance begins to flicker. “I need you to be okay.”

Victor licks his lips and then nods. “I’ll try.”

You close his door behind you and walk to the end of the hall before pulling your door closed. Victor knows every sound in this place, so you need to be careful about how you move and where you go. Sitting on the couch, you pull your notebook and Mitch’s laptop into your lap. The plan is set in place, and you look over it, preparing to leave. You set everything aside gently, then stand to take a few steps toward your room before turning. Listening closely, you don’t hear movement, so Victor must be asleep or trying to sleep.

When you reach the door, you place your hand over the knob before falling to your knees.

The pain you’re experiencing is excruciating. Your body wants to give up and pass out, but you must get to Victor. Something is obviously wrong if he’s using his power on you. Mitch’s pained groan grows loud enough that you can hear it, and Sydney whimpers behind her closed door. Dol barks several times as you turn toward Victor’s room.

Beyond the pain, a force is pushing you away from Victor. As you fight to get near him, it feels like swimming against a strong current. Your concern for Victor begins overpowering your pain and fear, and you move as quickly as possible to reach him. When you open the door, he is tossing and turning, his sheets tangled around him as he breathes heavily. You say his name and place a hand on his shoulder before he opens his eyes, and the pain multiplies tenfold.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re a ghost,” Victor argues. “I watched you die, Eli.”

“Yet, Victor, here I am. EON is alive and well. It seems that the Eli Ever legacy lives on. If only to torture you.”

“Didn’t do enough of that at Lockland?”

Eli grabs Victor’s shirt and pushes him against a wall. Victor smiles as Eli’s face contorts in pain.

“She is on my side, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t. She’s been on my side since the beginning.”

“She knows too much, and she keeps secrets, Vic. Explain how that is being on your side.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Then ask. Or do what you’re doing now.”

“What I’m doing now?”

“Listen, Vic,” Eli whispers.

The air around Victor buzzes as Mitch’s groans and Sydney’s cries infiltrate the calm.

“No, no, no,” Victor repeats to himself.

“Keep this up and you’ll kill her. You have a strong connection to her, which means all of those emotions bottled up in here,” Eli says, pressing a finger over Victor’s heart, “are entering her as inescapable and incurable pain. Way to go, Vic. Angie and this one… you’re building quite the record.” He begins to fade as he adds, “And they called me a serial killer.”

Victor has to wake up. He tries everything until he sees your eyes and flinches back.

You fall back onto the floor, curling in against yourself. “Vic,” you whisper, tears breaking past your waterline.

Forcing yourself onto your knees, you kneel beside his bed and take his hand in both of yours.

“You have to calm down, Vic, it’s okay. Everything is okay,” you soothe him, even though it feels like your body is being ripped apart. “Focus on something else. Whatever happened, forget it. Take some deep breaths.”

You watch Victor’s chest rise and fall, but his eyes stay trained on you. Tracing shapes against his hand, you tell him about the walk you took Dol on last week as he breathes deeply.

His shoulders sag, and the pain disappears immediately, with no lasting aches or symptoms. You stand and reach for the water beside his bed, but he grabs your wrist and stops you. Victor leans forward, his forehead against your stomach, just below your sternum.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, breathing deeply as his hands grip your hips. He’s grounding himself, and you’re happy to let him.

“It’s okay, Vic. It’s over,” you reply quietly. “You scared me. I didn’t know what was happening, just that something was wrong with you.”

Victor shakes his head against your stomach, another apology. You hear footsteps in the hall outside and hear Mitch talking to Sydney.

“I- can you check on them?” Victor asks, looking up at you. His grip on you gently increases as he adds, “And come back?”

“Of course.”

You step out, pulling the door closed behind you. Mitch is in Sydney’s room, comforting her. When she sees you, she looks up with teary eyes and an arm wrapped around Dol.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, kneeling in front of her bed and patting Dol before you take Sydney's hand.

“Scared. Is he alright?” Sydney replies.

“He will be,” you promise, nodding as you look over at Mitch.

He nods once and then gestures toward Sydney, telling you he’ll stay with her while you deal with Victor.

“You’ll make it better, right?” Sydney asks. “He listens to you, and you can help him.”

“I’ll do everything I can, Sydney. I promise.”

You stand, and Mitch mouths, ‘Thank you’ as you step back. Nodding at him again, you pat his shoulder before returning to Victor’s room.

“You’ve been lying to me,” he accuses weakly when you step inside.

“Yes,” you admit, approaching him again.

He doesn’t hesitate to lean toward you and place his hands on you again, keeping you close as you explain.

“I didn’t want to stress you out more, or concern you, or, worse, if I was wrong, make you think you have to do it all alone. Because you don’t always seem to understand or appreciate that you aren’t alone anymore. You have Mitch and Sydney, and-“

“You?” Victor interrupts.

“If you still want me, you absolutely have me.”

“I do. So, what did you lie about?”

“I think I found EON. There was a hidden pattern in the locations of their body dumps. Assuming that they operate nearby, it should be easy to use the missing piece of the pattern to find them before they can kill again.”

“Where should the last location be?”

“An abandoned dock at the marina down south,” you answer. “Part of why I didn’t tell you is that I didn’t know when it would happen.”

“And Mitch?” You furrow your brows, and Victor clarifies, “I heard you go into his room. You found something, didn’t you?”

“Yes. The dates of discovery, actually the number of days between them, were a code.”

“What kind of code?”

“It translated to a message. Once we read the message, we decided not to tell you because you were already so stressed.” You chuckle as you add, “I realize now that worked oppositely of intended. I made it worse and I’m sorry, Vic.”

“What did the message say?” Victor asks, silently accepting your apology as his finger dips under the hem of your shirt.

You lean into his touch as you answer, “Are you sure you want to know?”

Victor nods, and you press your lips together before telling him, “It was my name and a DOD.”

“A date of death? Yours?”

“Presumably. But it is tomorrow. So, I was going to go to the marina tonight to see if I could catch them off guard.”

“You were going to go alone?”

“I know it’s dumb and I would’ve gotten killed but I was just thinking about you and how I could help you.”

A small bolt of pain shoots through your side where Victor touches you.

“Sorry,” he says, smoothing his palm over the spot. “I just- your connection is different.”

“Is that why I felt like I was dying while Mitch just groaned a little?” you tease.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, Vic, it’s alright. Now, though, I need you to get back in the game so we can take these new EON goons down.”

Victor nods, tugging you closer as he stands.

“I trust you,” he whispers. “You take the lead since you found everything else.”

“Thank you.”

Victor releases you to step back before asking, “What was the pattern?”

“Eli’s initials: EE. I guess his legacy is living on.”

“Wait,” Victor blurts. “I’ve been seeing him in my dreams. He said the same thing.”

“You’ve been seeing him? Since when?”

“Since we found out about the new EON. Every time he shows up, he tries to convince me that you’re working with them.”

“That’s why you’ve been so defensive. You didn’t want me close because you thought I was an EON spy,” you realize aloud.

“You did know too much,” Victor argues weakly.

“And you never stop to think, ‘Maybe she’s just that good, and that pretty, and that amazing-'“

Victor cuts you off, asking, “What do we do now, good, pretty, amazing leader?”

“You go show Sydney and Mitch that you’re alright and make sure they are, too, then we make a plan to get everyone in and out of the marina to defeat EON forever.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Victor drawls.

You rush out, smiling at his new attention. He trusts you; he’s proved that before, but knowing that you have a different connection is scary and exciting at the same time. Maybe you'll ask him more about that after tonight if your DOD is changed.

✯✯✯✯✯

With Victor’s full attention on you, not as someone he has to protect, but as an equal, you feel prepared to charge into EON and complete your goal. Sydney and Dol aren’t going, but Mitch is driving, and Victor will be inside with you, even if you can’t see him. The dark circles are still prevalent under Victor’s eyes, but the stress lines have nearly disappeared.

“And what if they find you before you want them to?” Mitch asks.

“I can handle them roughing me up. Either way, they’ll all come out and be in one spot for Victor to do his thing.”

Victor’s hand finds yours under the table, and you trace a few shapes onto it. His shoulders drop slightly, even as he argues, “There will be no roughing up. They might lay a finger on you, but I think I can spread the pain out enough that I can get any hidden EONs, too.”

“We don’t want to hurt any EOs,” you point out.

“I don’t think there will be any. That message was specific,” Mitch says.

Your eyes widen as Victor looks at you.

“What exactly did the message say, Mitch?” Victor asks.

“Her name, today’s date as her DOD, cause of death, and the total body count. That body count was only one higher than currently, so it’s just you, unfortunately.”

“What was the cause of death?” Victor asks you, lacing his fingers through yours.

You don’t answer and shake your head at Mitch to discourage him from answering, too.

“Please,” Victor whispers, moving his hand to your wrist.

“Beaten to death,” you say slowly. “Tortured the way every EO before me was.”

“But you’re not an EO.”

“They don’t know that. So, your presence there should be a surprise.”

“If they know about you, they know I’m with you, though,” Victor says.

“Not if I offer to help.”

“Faux treason,” Victor deduces. “I like it.”

“Then let’s do it,” you say, turning to face Victor. “And maybe you can finally get some sleep and de-stress when we get back.”

“Let’s make that the goal.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you yell as you enter the small building. “I’m looking for EON? I have valuable information about Victor Vale.”

“Well, hello there,” a man says as he steps out from behind a net. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing? Eli would have loved you."

You suppress a shiver and a gag at his comment, opting for a nervous smile. “So, I’m in the right place? I had to go the long way after I left Victor yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re in the right place, sweetness. The man in charge will be glad to hear anything you have to offer.”

“I- sorry, I’m a little nervous,” you say, chuckling as you reluctantly place your hand in his. “What’s your name?”

“We’re all called Ever here. You’ll be the first female Ever, ever. Get it? Anyway, you should be pleased by that. Lord E is very picky in who he chooses to become an Ever.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as the man’s other hand finds your waist. It is a much different feeling than when Victor touches you, but knowing for certain that he’s nearby makes you feel better. A spark of pain occurs under his hand, but only for a breath. He pulls his hand away and furrows his brows at you.

“I think I built up some static electricity, sorry,” you apologize, raising your voice slightly in hopes that Victor will control himself.

“Here we are,” Ever says, flipping a light switch.

The lights go off before men, Evers, carrying candles, enter the room. Two of them lead a man dressed differently to the front of the room, where a large throne is placed. The light comes back on, dimmer than before, and your eyes widen when you see the man.

“Lord E, this woman has information about Victor Vale,” the Ever holding your hand announces.

“She may approach,” the man on the throne, Lord E, calls.

Ever takes a step with you before Lord E adds, “Alone.”

He’s wearing Eli’s clothes, the exact outfit he wore during the bank robbery when he was on the front page of the Merit newspaper. There’s even a few blood stains, all the proof you need that it’s the same outfit or an incredible replica.

“What is your name, girl?” Lord E demands as you reach his throne.

You tell him your name and wait as he looks around.

“And tell me, what do you know of Victor Vale?” he asks. “Come closer,” he demands, extending a scepter to you.

You touch the end with your fingertips and step onto the platform, stopping just before your knees hit his.

“I know a lot. I’ve spent time with Mr. Vale under the impression that I could help him and that I never trusted Eli,” you explain.

Lord E tilts his head up to you, smirking as his eyes travel up and down your body. “Ever,” he calls, “lights.”

The lights go out, and you can no longer see Lord E. You try to stay calm, knowing Victor has control over the situation. When you feel hands on you, however, that calmness evaporates.

“Has he mentioned I’ve been visiting him in his dreams?” Lord E asks, pulling you flush against his body as his hands roam around your waist.

“He did. It scared him, threw him off,” you half lie, trying to lean away from him.

With the lights off, Victor may not have the control he needs to get everyone without getting you to. You don’t care at this point; you only need this guy’s hands off of you.

“Lord E?” you ask. He hums, so you add, “The most important thing I learned about Victor Vale…”

“Go on,” he prods.

You raise your voice so Victor and the Evers can hear you. “Is that Victor Vale will destroy you all.”

Lord E’s hands tighten painfully on your waist as pained screams sound behind you. You step back, twisting out of his grip before you run toward the door. It’s locked, so you stumble through the dark until you find the stairs to the catwalk where Victor should be.

“Find her!” Lord E screams behind you.

“Hey,” Victor whispers before his hands grab your shoulders, “want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” you sigh, taking his offered hand and following him.

You’re blind in the dark, but you don't need to see with Victor leading you. You trust him enough to let him lead the way. He opens a door, and the marina lights illuminate your path to Mitch’s waiting car. You run toward the car, while Victor returns to the building to finish the plan. When he gets in the passenger seat, Mitch begins driving.

“Mission accomplished?” Mitch asks.

“Mission accomplished,” Victor affirms. “EON was taken down by a gas leak, and the coroner should never know they were knocked out by pain before the gas suffocated them.”

In the darkness of the backseat, you rub your hand against your waist, trying to ease the pain caused by Lord E’s grip on you.

“Was it his ghost?” Victor asks quietly.

“I think it might have been. He said he’d been in your dreams.”

“Well, Casper has to find someone new to haunt,” Mitch jokes. “And we’ll be there, too.”

Victor glances over his shoulder at you as your pain disappears. Trusting him was the best decision you’ve ever made, and you’re glad he has decided to trust you, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor offers his hand as he opens your door and keeps your hand in his until you’re back in his room. He sits on the bed and pulls you forward. Gripping the hem of your top, he looks up at you for permission.

Victor has every reason not to like physical touch, and before today, he never initiated any. Especially not with you. In just a few hours, that has changed forever. He realized how calming and comforting your touch is, and now he will never go back.

As he pushes your shirt up to your ribs, Victor’s jaw clenches as he sees the darkening bruises.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You technically saved me, but no problem,” Victor mutters, running his finger over the skin below the bruise. “It feel okay?”

“Yes, you know it does. You don’t have to numb it, I’ll live.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Vic, next time you get stressed or have trouble sleeping, or anything else, you can talk to me. You need to tell me.”

Victor nods, his hands wandering upward to rest against your ribs.

“I know I’m distracting, but could I get a verbal acknowledgement?” you tease, resting your hands on his arms.

“I promise to talk to you,” he says quietly. “And thank you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor quickly learns he doesn’t have to talk to you; he can survive off your touch alone. He seeks your comfort every chance he has. He’ll link his pinky with yours when you are beside each other. Occasionally, he’ll hold your jacket between his fingers when he’s behind you. Anything to stay close and grounded. Victor’s connection with you extends to his power because, as he explains, your presence in his mind is different, and you evoke unique emotions in him. As long as you are near, Victor doesn’t need to be stressed; he only needs to be with you.

#victor vale x reader #victor vale #vicious #vicious ve schwab #requests

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cellard0ors · 2 years ago

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Travis isn't a fan of going into the big city.

Yes, he lives in New York, but not NEW YORK, New York. He lives in North Kill - a small town that's pretty much the exact opposite of it's 'shining star' city.

North Kill isn't glitz or glamour. It's not even tough and hard. It's small and country and - as he's heard some say - bumfuck redneck.

it's home.

And, to him, leagues better than the big city.

And yet.

The big city isn't that far from home. Not far enough, anyway, to prevent Travis from traveling there now and then. Now, specifically, for his brother Bobby's sake.

Family, after all, is the most important thing in the world.

And if Bobby wants to go to the big city to see some wrestling (or, again as he's heard some say, 'rasslin') Travis is willing to swallow his distaste for the city and go.

Or, as it is at this moment, swallow a beer

He's at a bar not too far from the convention center he, Bobby, and Chris will be going to in a few hours. Bobby and Chris, far more excited for this than he is, are out and about exploring.

Travis, for his part, is enjoying a drink in an establishment that's surprisingly quiet. A good cleanser for the soul before he's surrounded by people. Screaming, sweaty excited people.

...Jesus...

"Well that's a face."

Travis perks up from his drink and then...internally freezes. He's old enough now (in his fifties and all) to control his reaction when he sees an attractive woman.

This means that, while his expression is calm, his nerves are going off like fireworks - something he would've reflectively shown in his youth. He thanks himself for his age that his jaw doesn't drop.

Because this woman?

Gorgeous.

She's blonde and beautiful and giving him an amused smirk, "Don't like the drink?"

"Drinks fine. Company not so much." And how he manages something that slick is a mystery to him.

"I don't see any company."

"That's because I'm alone."

She nods to herself in understanding, "So you don't like that?"

"Normally? No. Right now? Definitely not."

"Any particular reason?"

"Not really."

"Well...I could buy you a drink? Join you? Maybe a change of company will cheer you up. Change that face a little."

Travis fights off a smirk but she catches it, grinning wildly, "See? It's already working!"

"I can see you're trouble..."

"Loads and you're already in it. Didn't even say 'no' to the drink and it's too late now." She boasts and sure enough the bartender is near enough that the girl can request another for Travis and, for herself, a rum and coke.

Once the bartender is gone she turns to him, "Name's Laura."

She holds out a hand and he lets out a sigh as if this is a big burden as he shakes her hand, "Travis."

They share a few more drinks, they share a few more flirtatious remarks, and just when Travis is really contemplating asking her out, her phone buzzes and she looks at, hissing, "Oh! I lost track of time! I really have to go!"

Laura gives him a shy smile, "I really had fun with you, Travis."

"Same." Is his simple response, but his heart is jackhammering as he prepares to ask for her number. Only for her to suddenly draw a sharpie from her jacket, "Here..."

Laura gets a hold of his forearm.and scribbles on it, "When you get a chance, give me a call."

"So...right now?"

She laughs and tucks the marker away, "Sadly, busy tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's fine by me." He returns with his own shy grin. She seems reluctant to leave, but her phone buzzes again and she gives in, even if it is with a pout.

Travis watches her go before directing his attention to his forearm to see her best scrawl. He chuckles at it and shakes his head to himself, wondering why on earth she's carrying a sharpie around.

Later that night, he finds out exactly why.

#hackearney #travis x laura #new snapshot series #i couldn't help myself #don't have a name for it yet #will soon enough thou

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cookies-and-creamless · 2 years ago

Text

Balloon Art Day 3

Day 1 - Day 2

15. Giraffe - Unnamed

Before I got out of bed today, I whipped out a quick giraffe for a warm up. This giraffe is just a dog with different proportions, but I wanted to make a giraffe for a friend's kid. I didn't prepare at all beforehand, but from a purely balloon twisting perspective, I'm really happy with it. One small detail that doesn't show up super well in this picture is that I made the front legs longer than the back. Giraffes' legs are pretty even, but you can clearly see a downward slope in their backs that can be approximated in balloon form by introducing a length difference. This one stopped living up to my expectations once I tried drawing the spots on. Sharpie works wonders on these balloons, but I didn't have a brown sharpie on hand in my bedroom. I used a crayola marker instead, which you can see didn't really stick at all. Ended up being a bit of a mess!

17, 18, 19. Heart, bow, flower - Mother's Day Ensemble

This heart here is my second attempt. It takes some effort to get a balloon to hold an angle like the one in a heart! Even more effort to do it without any swelling in the joint. You can see that the heart here is slightly inflamed, but compared to the one before it, it looks extremely healthy. Aside from that, the bow here is a little uneven, and the flower was intended to have six petals instead of five (one of them being a tad short), but after struggling a while with how I wanted the heart to look, I decided that today was going to be a "finish it even if it's not perfect" kind of day.

20. Sword

I consider this an important skill in the children's birthday party side of balloon art, and for the sake of possibly making a little bit of money at some point (it's so hard to do things on a just-for-fun basis nowadays), I've resolved to eventually perfect the blade. The challenge of the sword is inflating the balloon just enough that you can still make the few required twists while resulting in a round, inflated tip. Now, the bubble at the front of this one is a bit long, and that's not the challenging part, but I got a little turned around at the start of this one. The tip top is slightly under-inflated. Only slightly, though, so I'm satisfied with this as a first try.

21. Mushroom

This one was also a little sloppy, but it's such a cute little thing that I was really happy to finish it regardless. A developing theme is that I will make bubbles bigger than a tutorial calls for and run out of balloon faster than intended when I iterate the process. This mushroom has a slightly less robust cap than specified in the tutorial I followed, but once again, it doesn't matter too much. I find that it's pretty fun to not measure anything and just work it out on my own when something goes wrong.

22. Corn (failure)

This one involves weaving six balloons at once into basically a tall basket. I couldn't handle that many balloons at once! No biggie though, this was a big step up from what I've done up to this point. The mode of failure was a pinch twist, which is consistently a technique that I'm a little nervous about due to a fear of popping. This time, it was in between a lot of other bubbles and I must have pulled a bit too hard, because the balloon I was twisting did indeed pop. I feel comfortable saying I bit off more than I could chew here, but I'm exercising my jaw every day, so I'll come back around for this one another time!

23. Sword (not pictured)

This one was both to see if I could do it better this time, and because I just wanted to play around. I didn't do it any better this time though. I don't want to sit down for a day of nothing but swords until I get the inflation level to be perfect, but I think that might be the best way to learn. I'll keep working hard, whatever that looks like!

24. Camel - Wendy

Yup, that's right, she's meant to be a camel. I didn't get as much height as I'd have liked out of her hump because the bubbles that make up her torso are slightly different lengths. I was also cutting my balloon length pretty close at the end, because this is one of the rare designs that leaves the very end of the balloon inflated. Her front legs are also longer than her back legs, and not on purpose this time! I don't mind for now though. Hard to feel frustrated when I'm holding a cute little animal that I made!

#balloon art #this one's extra long! I had a busy busy day #also a very long day! I didn't get much sleep last night #I debated for a little while if I should include the second sword on this post #but I figure even if I don't keep a picture of it #I still want a record of what I did #I like the impermanence of balloon art #but I also love the experience of documenting an impermanent thing #you can't use words and pictures to fully replicate the experience of having one of these in front of you #or in your hands #but I keep a record nonetheless!#one day all of the pieces I've made so far will be deflated or popped #and I'll still be able to look at these posts #and eventually the website won't exist anymore #and hopefully I'll have moved the posts somewhere else #anyway #there's something appealing about failing happily

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snugglyporos · 4 months ago

Note

"Speaking of candy, I bet you are going to get a lot on Poroween! Has anyone helped you choose your costumes yet? I think you would look cute as angels, with little halos and wings!"

Though, ghosts usually works, but Houou wonders what they use, since they are so small. Handkerchiefs?

"Pete is growing many white pumpkins, and you can help decorate them! You can make drawings with the Sharpie markers. It'll be fun! I'll show you."

The baby poros have not decided, no! Is always a matter of much debate, as they are always curious about this! Of course, they will definitely draw on the pumpkins! Is fun!

She isn't wrong about the angel idea....

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cozy-the-overlord · 2 years ago

Text

Taking Notes

Summary: You need a whiteboard. Loki offers to be of assistance.

Word Count: 1,926

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This spawned when I was obsessively outlining my creative writing honors thesis and complaining that I needed a whiteboard, and @naterson jokingly suggested I write on Loki. This is very silly and ridiculous and not particularly good, but I finished it so I figured I might as well post it. I pictured this reader being the same as that in Burning The Midnight Oil, but this isn't a sequel or anything-- you don't need to read that to understand this.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Shirtlessness? Loki is shirtless for most of this, but it’s all very silly and innocent-- nothing sexual

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

“Okay,” you say, and bite your lip. The marker is thinner than you expected it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from anxiously clicking the cap on and off and on and off again, the snapping noise blending into the backdrop of your notes-strewn dorm as you study your … canvas. “Are you ready?”

You can’t see Loki’s face from where he’s standing, face towards the wall and bare back to you, but you can tell he’s smirking. “As I’ll ever be, darling.” He stretches his arms out behind him, flexing the lean muscles of his shoulders, and chuckles at your soft inhale.

Cheeks aflame, you uncap the marker a final time and prepare to write.

Luckily your roommate is gone tonight, because you don’t think you would be able to explain this to her. You’re not even sure you can explain it to yourself. It had started when Loki arrived earlier this evening— it’s become an implicit understanding that he stay the night whenever your roommate is out, something you’re exceedingly grateful for (it spares you from the shame of having to admit you hate spending nights alone)—to find the unhinged chaos of a notorious procrastinator flying around the room, trying to do a month’s worth of work in two days.

“I need a whiteboard!” you had shouted at him, rummaging through your notes like a raccoon in a dumpster. The outline for your honors thesis was due at the end of the week, and there was too much to write, too much to keep track of, too much to see all at once. You had been violently suppressing the urge to go “fuck it” and just start writing on the wall above your bed.

Loki, for his part, had seem torn between confusion and amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

“A whiteboard!” You couldn’t find the scrap of paper with the character names you decided upon. “I need to write it all out so I can see it!”

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to have a normal boyfriend. How would a regular person have responded to such a dilemma? Suggest taping your notes to the wall, perhaps? Offer to help you organize everything? Certainly not smirk like a little gremlin with mischief in his eyes and purr, “Well, you could write it on me.”

Then again, you were the one who, after realizing that this was an offer put forth in the upmost sincerity, cocked your head to the side and said “okay.”

It had been goofy, the two of you rushing off to make a post-midnight Walgreens run for body markers (Loki had been fully prepared to let you scribble all over his back in Sharpie, but you had to draw the line somewhere), goofy in a fun, silly sort of way. It was cathartic—after so many hours stuffed away in your stuffy little dorm, the night air was fresh on your skin, and it felt good to giggle. But now, holding the marker just above his shoulder blades, you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a wave of self-consciousness.

“Don’t keep me waiting, darling,” Loki teases, but when you don’t answer he turns behind him to look at you. “Is something wrong?”

You hesitate. “This is weird.” You glance back up at him, not sure what you’re seeking. “This is weird, right?”

“Very,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t make it any less delightful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Me taking notes all over your back is delightful?”

“Of course!” Loki smiles. “Any moment spent with you is delightful.”

Oh. Well that’s just incredibly sweet. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to hold his gaze nor stifle the grin spreading across your face.

He’s laughing at your reaction, but it’s a warm sound, so light and airy it makes you feel weightless. “Do you still wish to continue?”

You mumble a yes, toying with the marker cap as he turns back towards the wall. Goodness, his back. His back is so gorgeous. You feel slightly lascivious, just ogling him like this, but you can’t help yourself. He’s just so smooth. You want to run your fingers down his spine, trace the lines of his body beneath your hands. You’ll never get over how soft his skin is. You love lying in bed with him, head on his chest, drawing circles on his stomach with your finger as he sleepily plays with your hair.

But enough of that thought.

Loki twitches when you write the first letter, and you pull back in an instinctual panic.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, perfectly,” he laughs in an exhale. “It’s a rather odd sensation, is all. Warmer than I imagined.”

That made sense, you suppose. You’ve been clutching the thing in your hand for goodness knows how long, after all, and Loki tends to be ultra-sensitive to any kind of heat. Still, you hesitate a moment before continuing.

It’s an interesting experience, writing on someone’s skin. Certainly nothing like the whiteboard you coveted earlier. You’re certain that the awkward heat in your cheeks will be there to stay for the whole of this process, but as you delve deeper into your notes, the frenzied writer who blocks out everything else around them begins to return. As stressed as you’ve been recently, you’re excited for this project. The decision to apply for a creative writing honors thesis had been a horrifically last minute thing, one that involved a sleepless night or two of panicked planning and crying to Loki over the phone because he was out of town and couldn’t be there in person to talk you through things, but now that that stage was through, there was almost something soothing about it, planning the characters and situations and drawing out this world that previously existed only in your mind. It was almost entrancing enough to distract you from the fact that your whiteboard is breathing.

Loki chuckles as you kneel on the floor behind him—you’re only trying to reach his lower back without straining your own, but the position also puts you in a direct line of sight to his, ah, posterior, and of course he knows it.

“You’re a thorough little thing, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks flood with heat. “Stop it!”

“I’m only making an observation.”

“Well—” you can’t think of a comeback. “… stop.”

Loki cackles.

But you find your revenge soon enough, when your fingers brush across the side of his ribcage—completely by accident, you weren’t even paying attention at first—and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles tense.

Well, isn’t that interesting.

You smirk and do it again.

A hand grabs your wrist, so suddenly you let out a squeak. Gosh, his hands are big. You look up to see Loki glowering down at you. “Stop that.”

You, however, are glowing with the power of new discovery. “You’re ticklish!”

“I am no such thing.”

“Oh?” You drop the marker to tickle his ribcage with your free hand, and he swats it away with his. He’s trying to keep a straight face, but you can see the smile straining to escape behind his eyes as he scolds you.

“Naughty thing.”

“Hey, this was your idea—”

“I was offering assistance. You are exploiting my goodwill.”

“Yeah?” You’re struggling to hold back your laughter. “So you just offered to strip for the greater good?”

He raises his eyebrows, holding both of your wrists now as he pulls you to your feet. “Are you telling me you didn’t appreciate my charity?” he asks, voice dripping with faux indignation. “After everything I’ve done for you? Oh, you wound me, darling.”

You’re definitely giggling now, wishing you could hide your face against his shirt as you squirm against his grip, but of course, he’s not wearing one, and somehow the thought of pressing against his bare chest doesn’t do anything to soothe the flustered hive buzzing within yours. You opt instead to nuzzle against his neck, laughing as he squirms from the sudden movement.

“You are so ticklish.”

“And you’re incorrigible,” he mutters, nosing against your hair. “Preying upon my weaknesses with such giddiness. Have you no shame?”

You’re going to respond, but your words are swallowed whole by a monster yawn that you can’t quite stifle in time. Loki frowns.

“It’s late,” he says. “I ought to have insisted you go to bed ages ago.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, although the dull ache behind your eyes says differently. “I’m usually up way later than this.”

“That isn’t the convincing argument that you think it is, sweet.”

No, you supposed it wasn’t. You know he’s right—you’re definitely going to hate yourself when you have to get up for class tomorrow morning. But you don’t want to go to bed. Bed would signal the end of the night, the end of your free time, the end of this ridiculous, lovely moment with Loki, and you don’t want it to end just yet. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, feather light touches on the top of his back as you begin to sway.

Loki raises an eyebrow. “And what are we doing now, love?” Even so, he follows your lead, rocking gently back and forth in place, letting you melt further into his embrace.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Dancing.”

He laughs. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” Your hand slips a little too far down his back and you cringe at the feeling of wet paint. “You need a bath.”

“That’s your own doing, I’m afraid.”

“You can’t go to bed like that,” you huff. “I just washed my sheets.”

“True,” he says, his breath warm on your cheek. “But you can.”

“I don’t want to though.”

“I know,” he says. “But it’s late darling. You need your sleep.”

“I have so much to do tomorrow.” The stupid outline is just one of your headaches. You really should have finished it tonight. Stupid, letting yourself get distracted like that. You ought to know better …

“Hey, none of that.” You don’t know how Loki can always tell when you’re slipping, but he does, and holds you closer, tipping your chin up so you can’t avoid the fixedness in his sparkling eyes. “You’re a deeply talented, capable individual, more so than anyone I’ve ever met. You have nothing to fear.”

You laugh, even as your cheeks heat up at the ardor in his voice. “Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“It most certainly is not.” Loki is firm. “I don’t lie to you, darling.” He gives you a gentle smile. “Which is why I must insist that you go to bed. I’ll join you after I bathe.”

You relent with a sigh. “Okay.”

…

You’re nearly asleep by the time he comes back, just awake enough to recognize the scent of your cucumber body wash as he joins you beneath the blankets of your cramped little bunk. He murmurs an apology but you hardly register it, tangling yourself in his embrace at first opportunity. Loki lets out a breathy chuckle at your clinginess—any other instance you might have been embarrassed at yourself, but it’s dark and you’re tired and so you nuzzle against his neck, unashamed in your cuddling. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you melt.

“I enjoyed being your whiteboard tonight,” he whispers against your hair.

You giggle despite yourself. “Yeah … I did too.”

Even in the dark, you can tell that he’s grinning. “I thought you might.”

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki fanfic #taking notes #cozy writes

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20dollarlolita · 2 years ago

Note

hi! I DIY most of my lolita wardrobe myself, either sewing or modifying non-loli clothes. I also love to embroider. For some of my handmade items like blouses, I was thinking of embroidering a small brand logo (like the moitie candelabra/Btssb heart logo) above the bust like some brands do. I wouldn't pass these off as actual brand, but Im wondering if people would think this is tacky somehow. I don't have much of a following so I will probably do this anyway. Just wondering how ppl feel abt it!

Okay, full honesty, you seem to know how people are going to react to it, because you asked me this question. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But I'm going to answer it anyway. Yeah, some people aren't going to like it. I think the would have good reason to not like it. There's sort of an idea that putting the brand logo on the garment is attempting to pass it off as original. U.S. copyright law will agree with this opinion. After all, you can't put the Coach logo on a bag and then get away with it by saying, "But I never SAID it was Coach, I just put the logo there!" There's a lot of non-brand motifs that you could do that would convey a similar feeling.

However, if you really want to do the brand logo specifically, you're missing an absolutely amazing opportunity to both protect yourself from accusations of misconduct, and to elevate the concept into something better. We're going to call this the Johnson Guitar Skerple Protocol:

It's not at all uncommon to have a brand attempt to style its logo in a way that will definitely draw to mind (or easily be mistaken for) a more well-known brand.

Johnson Guitars makes budget guitars, and has previously been sued for Fender for making instruments too close to Fender's patents. Generally, the branding on a guitar is on the headstock, and viewed from a distance. The way that Johnson's J is styled to be very, very similar to Fender's F allows a Johnson guitar to more easily be mistaken for a much higher quality instrument.

The Skerple was tumblr famous for a hot minute back in 2012. Someone bought permanent markers at the Dollar Tree thinking they were Sharpie brand, only to look closer and realize they were, in fact, Skerple brand. The entire name "Skerple" appears to be very carefully chosen so that the letters have very similar shapes to the Sharpie styling. And the fun thing about the Skerple situation was that everyone thought it was really funny. It's assumed to be a household name, but it's actually an impostor. The unexpected element of it makes it amusing. Putting a near-brand logo on your handmade piece gives people a bit of fun when they look up close.

And if you are planning on taking brand-adjacent logos and putting them on non-brand things, there's nothing stopping you from elevating the concept even further and making it a little bit funny. Here's a patch I made with the Baby, the Stars Shine Bright logo, but where it says BTSSBITCH instead of BTSSB on it.

There's nothing stopping you from giving a little easter egg to people who want to closely examine the work that you've done. Honestly, it might be prudent to do so, since putting the brand logo on an item is inherently claiming that the piece was work made by them. Copying a design and copying a logo are somewhat different issues, and if you're wondering if the mainstream lolita community might have a problem with it, and I think this is a case where they have good reason to.

#handmade lolita #copyright issues #sewing lolita #20dollarlolita #diy lolita #lolita replica

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lusciakoushiro · 2 years ago

Text

July

With it being CCR day I present the reveal;

This was my favorite of the three domes I had made. I loved everything about this and I couldn't have been prouder of myself.

I had one more dome remaining, but was unsure what I wanted to do, so I went on another art YouTube binge. I'm not quite sure how it became in my feed, but apparently painting on glass was a popular trend a year or two ago. More specifically drawing anime characters on glass. I was completely captivated by it and wondered if I could use the technique to create a custom phone case of my avatar.

The lines are slightly thicker than I had hoped, especially for the small surface, but I couldn't find the extra fine oil based Sharpie anywhere, but for my first attempt I was actually impressed.

I under estimated how much paint I actually used, not knowing how how many layers it would actually take, but you know what? I found the process so soothing! I knew it was taking awhile but I lost myself in it and not once did I feel like the process dragged on. This is also the first time I used a piece of my own art for something like this.

I had so much fun with the phone case that I decided to pick up some cheap frames at the dollar store. This time I chose Hythlodaeus as he became my favorite character in FFXIV, but also for one of his lines in Ultima Thule; "Ours is the power to weave the fabric of reality. Ours is the power to create!"

Again the lines are a little thick, but easier to manage with the larger canvas. I also used a black acrylic paint marker for the smaller details. And unlike my phone case I was gonna need to make a back drop since the dollar store frames only had a cardboard backing, so while the paint marker dried I attempted to make a galaxy background.

Honestly it's not terrible, but boy did it make a hell of a mess lol

Like my phone case I didn't know how much paint was needing to be layered, but also like my phone case I just lost myself in it again. It's honestly now one of my favorite projects to do just because if how relaxing it is for me.

I love how this turned out! Every step of this I enjoyed. It's also a nice hobby on the cheap too. $1.25 for a frame and roughly $1 per bottle of paint (which I think I only used five, maybe six colors without mixing) and I got something I really love? I call that a win.

Where as I found a new hobby I really enjoyed and will definitely revisit again, a thought had crossed my mind and it was time to actually work on projects I had started, one being four years ago, while I had the base of another for that long and the third I only started last November. But for one reason or another I put them aside, but now? Now was the time to see what I could do with them.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #hythades #glass painting #ocs #custom #phone cases #final fantasy vii #ff7 #zack fair #aerith #snowglobe

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blushie14 · 4 years ago

Text

Drawn To You [Skephalo]

Soulmate AU? …You know what? Heck yeah! Soulmate AU! This will be fun! For this AU, whatever you write/draw on yourself appears on your soulmate. Let’s go!

Growing up, Zak has never communicated with his soulmate by writing on himself. In fact, he felt indifferent about the concept of soulmates for most of his life.

He’s seen a few people who got lucky and actually met up with their soulmate. It’s pretty rare to find your soulmate while you’re young. Most people however can’t find their soulmate that easily, or choose not to write to their soulmate for whatever personal reason.

Now this didn’t mean that he wasn’t interested in finding his soulmate. It’s not like he didn’t care. He never really had anything to say. Besides, whoever his soulmate was never contacted him either.

Zak simply has never felt the need to interact. Not until recently that is. He has been wondering what would happen if he actually tried to write to them.

Some of his friends have shared stories of how they got their soulmate’s number or how their soulmate reached out to them first. It has got him thinking about it a bit.

If he wanted to write on himself to contact his soulmate, what would he even do? Would his soulmate even write anything back? What were they even like? This person who is supposedly destined to have a deep connection with him is probably a complete stranger right now.

So Zak questioned himself, what should he do to capture his soulmate’s attention?

Then Zak had this… crazy idea one day when he was bored. He grabbed a couple of sharpies, went to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and removed the sharpie cap.

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. Darryl was going to do a late night stream, but he decided to stream a little early this time with face cam. It was a chill stream on the idiots smp, even if he was the only one online right now. It was pretty nice so far.

“Okay, VanessaTheMuffin! Fifty dollars is too much! Thank you for the dono, but no! Stap it!” He restates the donation out loud. “Do I know if Skeppy is going to get on the smp today? Well um..” He thinks for a moment while scratching the upper part of his lip.

“I am 95% sure that he’s going to join me later on? He might be doing something else at the moment… I wonder what he’s doing.” He hummed to himself before having an idea. “Ooh! Do you think I can build a little Skeppy statue right here?”

He was about to look at the chat before another donation appeared. When the donation was read out loud, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Lovemepls donated 5 dollars: Yo homie what is on your face lol

“What? What do you mean?” He looked at his chat which was moving surprisingly fast. Trying to read some of the comments, it seems everyone has been saying similar things.

SilverGalaxy: Uhhh you got a little.. somethin… Maddyisadork: A wild mustache appeared! DeezVibez: MUSTACHE LMAO

“Mustache?” He took a moment to open his stream on another tab and was bewildered at the sight. A mustache was messily drawn on him with sharpie above his upper lip. “The fudge?! What is this?!”

Darryl covered his mouth in confusion. “How in the world did- ..Where did this come from?!” Puzzled, Darryl couldn’t connect the dots on how this mustache suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

He felt this strange itching sensation around his left eye, similar to the sensation he glossed over earlier above his upper lip.

Rubbing his left eye, he looked at his facecam again. “AH! Oh my goodness!” Darryl freaked out when a drawing of a monocle around his eye faded in right before his very eyes. “What is going on?!”

Tumbling Croissant: OMG AHAHAHA ADoseOfLove: Wow your soulmate has great taste! Memesnotfound: Aww your soulmate is drawing on you lol

That’s when it clicked… His soulmate.

“My soulmate is.. oh my goodness.” Darryl didn’t even know what to say or think. He has never heard anything from his soulmate before. Then the one time they decided to reach out to him, they decided to draw on his face?!

“Is my own soulmate seriously pranking me!? They even had to do it while I was streaming out of all the muffiny times!” He sighed. “I’m so done.”

Darryl chuckled a bit after the shock and confusion faded. It’s true that he was a little annoyed, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find this even a little funny.

AwesomePeter23 donated 10 dollars: Your soulmate is something special lol. I already love them and I wanna see them draw more.

“No they- Don’t say that! This is unacceptable!” Darryl crossed his arms and pouted. “I’ve never met my soulmate before, but whoever they are I hereby declare them a complete raggamuffin!” He shouted out and suddenly felt the tip of his nose itch.

“I swear if they added something new..” Once again he looked at his facecam and found a red dot drawn on his nose. “Oh come on! Are you flipping serious?!”

Pyro_Plays: CLOWNBOYHALO!!! OwOStawws: PFFFT ComradeinArms: WRITE THEM BACK PLEASE I BEG

“You know what? I’m grabbing a pen.”

Zak was staring at the mirror laughing at himself a little. “This is so stupid. I look so stupid! Why am I doing this?!” Despite questioning his life decisions, he thought about what he should draw next.

He reached for a marker in order to make himself look more clownlike until he felt his left hand itch. As he was scratching his palm he found writing on his hand.

“WHY!? >:0”

Zak couldn’t help but burst out laughing at this. The fact that they decided to draw a little emoticon just made this even funnier. “Oh my god what have I done?!” He grabbed the sharpie and giggled while writing out his response.

Meanwhile, Darryl was still streaming, looking at his left palm. A message appeared on his arm and he read it outloud.

“Because I wanna make you look pretty?! What kind of excuse is that?! I- This little rapscallion! I can’t believe them!”

King Kitty donated 5 dollars: You lookin fabulous there bad!

“You are all muffin heads..” Darryl grumbled. He wrote a little angry emoticon on himself in response to his soulmate. To his surprise he didn’t get a response back, but Zak suddenly texted him that he was going on teamspeak right now.

“Oh great. Guys, guess who decided to show up?” Darryl smiled and covered his face. “Is this even a good time or not? I don’t even know!” As soon as he moved Zak into his teamspeak, he could hear him giggling far from his mic. “Hey Skeppy. I’m streaming right now, and you aren’t going to believe what happened to me!”

“Bad I did something stupid.” Zak said quickly as his giggles died down.

“Oh wow, what else is new?” He laughed a bit. “Okay sorry Skeppy, I was just joking.”

“Wooow, okay. I was gonna ask you for help but now I’m-”

“Nonono Skeppy you know I’m just kidding please don’t leave.”

“I know! I know, but Baaaaad I think they’re mad at meeee.”

“Who’s mad at you? What did you do?” Laughter poured out from Zak before he responded. “What did you do Skeppy?!”

“Can you help me make them not mad? I actually don’t know what to say next all they did was send me a dumb emoticon thingy.”

“Yes. I can help Skeppy. Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Okay So- You know how I said that I’ve never written to my soulmate before?”

“Uhuh? Wait..” Darryl gasped. “Did you?”

“Yes and I did what was probably the stupidest thing I could’ve done.”

“Oh my goodness, what did you do? I mean, it can’t be as silly as what my soulmate did.”

Zak’s eyes widened in surprise. “You heard from your soulmate already?!”

“Uhh.” Darryl looked at his face again and just laughed a little. “Yeah, they recently did. What did you even say to them anyways?”

“Oh I didn’t really say anything to them at first. I kinda… I kinda drew on their face.” He nervously laughed.

…Wait a minute.

“You.. You what?” Darryl’s casual light hearted voice suddenly turned soft and serious as a look of disbelief was on his face.

“I drew some things on my face and then they got mad at me. I said something else afterwards but-”

“Waitwaitwait.” Darryl’s heart was starting to race, but he needed to confirm this before he got his hopes up even further. “What did you draw on them? I need to know.”

Zak got confused for a moment before answering. “Uhhh well I made them look like they had a mustache. And then I drew the monocle to go with it. After that I just drew a teeny little red dot on the nose… I was running out of ideas.”

Everything went silent as Darryl stared at his screen, red in the face. He was looking at the chat and surely enough it had exploded as everyone was losing their minds.

“Bad? …Are you there?”

Mashyapotatoes: OH MY GOD NO WAY! NO WAY!!!!! Disoriented Vine: Well shit this is actually happening?! Amber: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

There was almost too much for Darryl to process. His soulmate drew on his face live on stream. His soulmate unknowingly revealed himself to him AND thousands of fans. His soulmate has no idea why he’s suddenly so silent.

His soulmate… is Zak.

The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous. Darryl, being overwhelmed with shock and delight he just.. broke down into silent laughter, leaning forward as he covered his face with both hands.

Zak, still being confused and oblivious to the situation, got concerned. “The heck? Bad?…Are you okay?! What happened?! I actually can’t tell if you’re laughing or crying!”

Darryl couldn’t really tell either. He sat up for a moment and tried to speak, but to no avail as he started laughing again, facing down on his desk with a thud.

“Oh my god.” Zak laughed a little. “Seriously, what happened?! Are you okay?!”

Darryl eventually calmed down enough to barely speak. “Skeppy, look at my stream!”

“Okay? Why?”

“Take ONE good look at my face! ..And then you’ll see why!” He shouted out.

That was when the realization hit Zak as he felt his face warming up “No… There is no way that-..” He has never searched anything up so fast in his entire life.

When he saw Darryl’s facecam, Zak burst into hysterics when he saw the same thing drawn on Darryl’s face.

“Look at what you did to me Skeppy! Look at what you did!” Darryl shrieked, laughing and facing down on his desk with a thud once again.

“NO- DUDE- NO FUCKING WAY!”

Darryl, being in hysterics as well, barely muttered out a “language.”

“AND THE ENTIRE STREAM JUST- OH MY GOD NOHOHOOO!!”

“Skeppy whyyy!! …I look ridiculous Skeppyyyy!!”

It was complete hysteria for 2 minutes straight until both of them finally started to calm down, taking deep breaths.

“Oh my god, dude I-” Zak spoke out. “I don’t even know where to begin.. you’re my soulmate! What do you even think of it!?”

Darryl sheepishly smiled. “Actually I.. I’ve always kind of secretly hoped that it would be you.”

“..Really?” Zak asked in a soft tone, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Yes! I-” Darryl looked at his stream. “Hang on a second. Sorry guys, I’m gonna to stop streaming right here. Maybe I’ll stream again later and if not, tomorrow. I hope you all understand.”

ImForeverScreeching: Awwwww nooooooo PenguinRaven: Awww! Yeah we understand! <3 Lemon_Lime49: I just got back, why does bad look like that?

“Byeeee!” Darryl ended the stream.

“Dude, everyone on every social media is going to explode. What have I done?!”

“Oh my goodness you muffin head. I’m already silencing my Twitter notifications temporarily.”

The both of them chuckled and stayed silent for a moment. Zak was letting it fully sink in that Darryl is his soulmate. “I’m.. finding it really hard to believe that it’s you..”

“Why? ..Are you not happy about it?”

“Wh- NO! Nononono, I’m happy I’m VERY happy about it.” Zak quickly made that clear. “I just never thought that it would be you! I’m really happy that it’s you though. I cannot think of anyone more perfect..”

“Awww Geppy!” Darryl smiled. “I’m really happy about it too. Like, you have no idea how happy I am. You may have been such a muffin head, but you’re always my muffin head..”

Zak giggled a bit. “I really really want to see you now..”

“Me too.. Wanna plan to meet up ASAP?”

Two weeks have passed since it’s been revealed that the two were soulmates, and it was pretty wild. As they predicted, the information spread like wildfire in the fandom. Skephalo shippers definitely had a field day with that too.

Zak and Darryl took a break from making content only for a few days, but were talking to each other even more often. They slowly went back to making content and started telling their fans they were finally meeting up.

After planning everything out, Zak got on a flight to meet up and stay with Bad for a week. As soon as he departed from the plane, he felt a little nervous but extremely excited.

He roamed around the airport looking for Darryl. A few minutes went by until Zak felt a familiar itch on his left palm and looked to find a message.

“Hi <3”

Zak quickly looked around him until he saw Darryl smiling and waving in front of him. He smiled wide and started to run excitingly towards him. Darryl was surprised for a moment before raising his arms, bracing for impact.

“Skeppy!” Zak almost tackled him as he wrapped his arms around him as Darryl laughed and hugged back.

Skeppy giggled. “Did you really bring a pen with you just so you can write hi as soon as you see me?!”

“Hey, I thought it was fitting okay? You muffin head…” Darryl pouted.

Zak didn’t move away from the hug. He melts into the embrace, hugging Darryl closer as he spoke out softly. “Well.. hi..”

Darryl smiled and stared at Zak as a warm and comforting feeling washed over them. He didn’t want to let go and just wanted to keep him in his arms forever. “Oh my goodness, you just got here and I already don’t want you to leave in seven days..”

“Nooo, don’t think about that right now! I’m just happy to be here now..”

“Yeah..” Darryl wrapped his arms around Zak even more. “Me too.”

[End]

#skephalo #badboyhalo #skeppy #fanfiction #my writing #soulmate au

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hyunllx · 4 years ago

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The Christmas Baker

A Hyunlix Hallmark Fic Chapter 5/5 wc: 4.9k

Hwang Hyunjin is a rich, cocky, famous dancer that prefers to keep to himself during the holidays. When his roommate drags him along to visit his hometown, however, Hyunjin meets a boy who helps him believe in the spirit of the season. Primarily Hyunjin’s pov with Felix’s pov added in occasionally. series warnings: Extremely cliche. You will probably cringe at some points but its okay. chapter warnings: None, just super cheesy :) note: This fic is not meant to accurately reflect or portray the members of SKZ. This is just for fun.

Read the last chapter here

|--------------------Felix--------------------|

“Do we have to go?” Felix couldn’t help the whine in his throat as he let Chan push his body into his coat. He winced slightly at the pulling on his wrist when the sleeve passed over it, the pain of the fresh injury having caught up with him over the last 24 hours.

“Yes we have to go. You know you’re going to regret it if you don’t.” Chan paused as he held up Lix’s gloves, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to get them on over the cast. He stuffed them into his hoodie’s pouch after a moment and pulled a beanie onto his little brother’s head instead, “Besides, don’t you want to be there for Hyunjin’s first time at the party?”

Felix let out a small huff as he let his brother dress him like a child; it was easier to have help, even if a little embarrassing. He was right too, Felix DID want to be there with Hyunjin. He knew Hyunjin didn’t care much for the holiday, but the little school-boy crush in him wanted desperately to show him a good time, even if he was hurt.

"Yeah, I guess… I just know everyones gonna be disappointed about the cookies…"

"No, don't think that Lix. Even if Seungmin got only one batch done everyone will be happy to see that you're okay."

The door behind them opened as Chan finished speaking, a tightly bundled Hyunjin rushing in and almost knocking into them,

"Ah! You guys are almost ready!"

Felix looked at the taller boy curiously; since he'd got home from the clinic, Hyunjin had been in and out constantly all day and night. He'd return home for a quick meal or a nap, or to watch Felix as he slept himself, but he was gone again within a few hours, leaving Felix very little time to talk to him. Felix missed him when he was gone, a dangerous thing to feel given Hyunjin was still thinking about his own feelings, but he couldn't help it. When he saw Hyunjin's face light up as their gazes met, he hoped Hyunjin missed him too.

"Chan-hyung," Hyunjin turned his eyes to Chan, who immediately perked up. Felix blinked in surprise, looking between them; since arriving Hyunjin hadn't used such casual, affectionate language before. It was new… but Felix liked hearing him happy and comfortable nonetheless, "Um, some people want you at the town hall immediately. I can bring Felix in a little bit, but you should go meet them as soon as possible."

"Who?" Felix interjected. They were up to something; he could see the twitching at the corner of Chan's mouth that he gets when trying not to smile.

"I'm sure it's just last minute changes, Lixie. I'll go now, thank you Hyunjin."

"Hyung…" Chan gave his forehead a quick goodbye kiss and managed to escape Felix's grasp as he reached for his brother's coat. Hyunjin didn't help, draping a long arm across Felix's shoulders to guide him into the dining room, "Why can't we all just go together?"

Hyunjin paused, clearly not having thought about that before in whatever he was planning,

"Uh, I have something I wanna do first. Here, put your arm on the table."

Felix let out another sigh but obeyed, taking a seat and stretching out his arm as much as he could with the cast, "Like this?"

"Yeah. Now let me just fi- Ah!" Hyunjin shuffled through the many pockets on his thick coat until he produced a thick, black sharpie marker.

With great care not to twist too much, Hyunjin took Felix's arm in his hand and turned it over until his inner wrist was face-up. A hot blush bloomed across Lix's cheeks when Hyunjin popped the marker cap off with his teeth, using the black ink to write something he couldn't yet see on his cast. He felt as though he were back in middle school, having the popular boy sign his cast to sport the signature in front of everyone.

One proud grin later, Hyunjin pulled away to show Felix his message. Though the thick marker smeared a bit over the rough surface of the cast, his forearm read:

Felix, Get well soon so we can dance together. Merry Christmas Hyunjin.

Accompanying the words was a heart drawn directly over his broken wrist. Felix felt as though his own heart may burst,

"What's this?"

"Just a little motivation to get better." Hyunjin snapped the cap back on the marker, avoiding his gaze. His ears were red and he rocked nervously on his heels. He was so incredibly…. cute. Felix wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Not now. Not today. He reminded himself Hyunjin was still sorting out his feelings.

"Is this an official signature?" He teased instead, eliciting a giggle from Hyunjin,

"Technically yeah, I dunno how much it'll sell for-" His words cut off with a surprised gasp as Felix stood up and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin hesitated; Felix knew he understood the deeper meaning, he didn't need to hear anything in return. After a few rapid heartbeats, Hyunjin wound his arms around Felix in return, crushing him into the thick, squishy coat he still wore. Felix buried his face into the warmth of his chest for a moment, savouring the slip of affection more than he knew he should.

"So uhh…" Hyunjin stuttered, visibly flustered as he broke the embrace, "Are you ready to go?"

Felix nodded, letting Hyunjin lead him outside and down to the driveway. It was dark outside, long past evening and the moon and stars covered in a thick blanket of dark clouds. Despite the black sky above, the town was brightly lit with millions of little glowing bulbs lining the streets. Felix grinned at the sight, feeling lighter and more excited about the party than he had inside.

The only problem was the bitter cold.

As they walked, a breeze stirred in the air, not strong but deeply cold. It bit and stung Felix's cheeks and exposed skin,

"Ah shit…" He groaned as his fingers ached, fumbling the zipper of one of his jacket pockets, "Channie took my gloves with him…"

"Here…" Hyunjin's eyebrows knit together in concern as he plucked off one of his mittens. Felix opened his mouth to reject the mitten, not wanting Hyunjin to have to suffer the cold too, only to have his words halted when Hyunjin's hand slipped into his.

The taller boy winced as Felix's cold flesh pressed against his own, but continued to lace their fingers together. His large hand enveloped Felix's palm, warming his skin. Ears turning red with the sudden intimacy, Felix ducked his head, biting back a smile.

"Is this okay?" Hyunjin asked, his voice timid.

"This is perfect."

They continued to walk in shy silence, Felix's heartbeat roaring so loudly in his ears he was convinced Hyunjin could hear it too. Occasionally they would dare to spare a look at each other, catching the other's eye just to look away. Each time the grip on each other's hand grew tighter, more afraid to let go.

Is this his way of telling me he made up his mind? Felix wondered to himself. He didn't want to voice the thought aloud in case it wasn't true. He had to wait for Hyunjin to be ready to say it. No matter how painful the wait was.

They made their way to the center of town where the town hall stood among the maze of shoveled paths. The windows were all lit up orange and red and warm white, lights and ribbon strung around every tree and hedge and post, drawing them in with the promise of fun and warmth.

Except the sight of the building so close caused the anxiety to gnaw at Felix’s gut again.

“What’s wrong?” They paused at the bottom of the stairs, Hyunjin sensing his hesitation as his steps slowed and his grip grew weaker.

“I’m… really worried people are going to be disappointed to see me. Since I didn’t get to finish setting up everything.” He admitted with a sigh, his breath swirling around him in the cold, “I don’t like letting people down.”

“Hey…” Hyunjin frowned, slipping his hand out of Felix’s to pull him into a side-hug. Felix’s ears grew white-hot at the sudden affection, his hand clutching onto Hyunjin’s coat, “Do you trust me?”

Felix blinked at the question. It felt odd, like he should suspect something was wrong. Yet as he looked up into Hyunjin’s warm, smiling eyes, he knew he did, unquestionably.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Then trust I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it would upset you.”

Before Felix could ask what he meant by that, Hyunjin grabbed his hand again and pulled him up the steps to the grand entrance to the old building. The doors were closed, which he found odd, and they both had to push to get them open. Blinking against the assault of brilliant decorations lighting the entire entry hall, Felix stood in the doorway for a moment, dumbfounded at the sight before him.

“Merry Christmas, Felix!” Everyone who had gathered for the event was crowded in the room, dressed up in their santa hats and cheesy sweaters, and all looking at him with the happiest smiles. His neighbours, his employees, his friends, everyone was there and greeted him with a chorus of cheers. Above them hung the typical “Happy Holidays” banner that was used every year, though with a new addition. A second crudely-yet-endearingly-made banner hung from the bottom of the thick fabric:

Get Well Soon Felix

At the center of the entryway, sitting under the standard tree, was a board with papers and notes of various colours pinned up under a sign reading “Dear Felix Lee:” He walked into the crowd, accepting the hugs and high-fives and head rubs from the people he loved so dearly as he passed, until he got to the board.

Just from glancing over them, most of the letters echoed the sentiment of wanting him to get well and recover. Some letters thanked him for running the bakery, or for being so kind. Some called him an essential part of the community. All of them conveyed unconditional love.

Tears welled in his eyes, a wave of relief and overwhelming love crashing over him, lifting the burden of anxiety from his shoulders. No one was disappointed in him… they were worried. The whole town, worried about him.

Seungmin broke away from the crowd and bounced up to Felix excitedly, the bells hanging from his reindeer antler headband jingling over the music playing deeper in the hall.

“What do you think? Were you surprised?”

“Seungminnie... how- how did you do all this?”

“Actually… it was his idea.” Seungmin grinned, pointing behind Felix to where Hyunjin still stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hyunjin? Did this?” Felix blinked several times, his brain unable to process that statement.

“Ah… I have to admit, he also did most of those.” Draping an arm across Felix’s shoulders, Seungmin turned him to face the wall lined with tables of food and drink. At the center of it all was a familiar long table and display case both piled high with hundreds of cookies of various shapes and sizes. Several kids crowded around the table armed with plastic bags of brightly coloured frosting as they decorated their treats. Just like any other year. Like nothing happened.

The tears in his eyes spilled over, and Felix started to cry.

|--------------------Hyunjin--------------------|

Hyunjin lingered in the doorway, watching as Felix took in the surprise everyone had worked so hard to make for him. He was cold and tired, but it still felt odd walking into such a personal celebration. He was still an outsider.

“Hyunjinnie? What are you doing?” Hyunjin didn’t notice Chan escape the crowd until his hand rested on his shoulder, startling him.

“Oh… uh, I’m not sure.” Chan followed his gaze to where Felix and Seungmin were speaking excitedly,

“Go to him.”

“What?”

“Come on, Hyunjin. You did all this for him. You need to tell him.”

Hyunjin didn’t need to be asked twice when Felix turned to look at him, tears glittering under the glowing lights illuminating the hall. He was at Seungmin’s side in an instant, pushing his way through the crowd with his heart racing.

“What’s wrong?” Felix rubbed the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as he saw Hyunjin approach, Seungmin’s face lighting up,

“Um… I’ll go find Minho and give you two a minute.” He gave Hyunjin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before slipping into the crowd, a friendly gesture that still felt so surreal. He’d spent so much time with Felix’s best friend over the last two days, they felt like friends themselves.

“What the matter?” Hyunjin repeated to Felix this time, his heart aching as he watched the small boy try in vain to wipe his tears away.

“I- I can’t believe you did all this… For me?” Hyunjin dropped his eyes, ears burning with embarrassment under his beanie,

“I felt really bad that you couldn’t finish something you were looking forward to so badly. Especially because I feel like it was partially my fault. Seungmin, Minho, and Chan helped a lot.”

“Thank you so much.” Felix tugged him into a tight hug, burying his face into Hyunjin’s chest. He was sure it was to hide his tears, yet he couldn’t complain. He embraced Felix tightly, resting his chin atop his head.

“Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

Felix giggled shyly as he pulled away, his cheeks red now from rubbing his tears off them. Hyunjin took the smaller boy’s face in his hands and used his thumbs to gently do so instead. Not even two days ago, he would’ve considered the action a mistake. It would’ve made him panic at the way his heart pounds and his tummy flutters. The way a dizzy warmness spreads through his veins.

But today… today when he saw the look of pure affection in Felix’s chocolate brown eyes, it brought Hyunjin nothing but joy.

"How are we all doing?" Chan’s voice boomed over a mic and speakers at the back of the hall, startling them both. They giggled shyly to themselves as the crowd cheered, everyone’s attention turning to the platform where Chan stood, set up with his laptop and DJ equipment, which Hyunjin had come to find took up most of his obnoxious amount of luggage,

“Good! Good. It’s really great to be home again to see everyone, especially at this time of year. Um, as you all know, we’re not just here to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight, we’re gathered to celebrate someone very special to my heart. Someone that’s very special to all of us.”

The crowd cheered again, making Felix’s ear turn red and his fingers fumble bashfully with the hem of his jacket. Hyunjin’s heart swelled at the love flooding the room for this boy he cared for so deeply. He wanted to make sure Felix never stopped feeling that love.

Feeling HIS love.

Hyunjin couldn’t deny it anymore. He loved Felix. Relief washed over him like a warm bath, comforting and healing. If only he could make it through tonight… through this party with all these people around… Hyunjin made up his mind to tell Felix when they returned home.

“If you don’t mind, I’ve had a request to play one of his favourite songs. I’d like to play it now, before people start getting tired. You’re welcome to come dance along if you would like. Please enjoy yourselves.”

Claps of excitement rose from the crowd as they parted around the two of them, giving Felix a path to the empty space in front of Chan used as a small dance floor. A smile touched Hyunjin’s lips as the track began to play; the last time he’d heard it he was sat on a couch in Felix’s bakery, watching snow flutter in the wind and waiting for the sweetest boy to bring him something to eat. Felix’s eyes also lit up as he recognized the song, though a frown quickly replaced the smile forming on his lips,

“Ah man… I wish I could dance to this.”

“Why can’t you?” Felix lifted his hand that was trapped inside the pink cast, cocking his head,

“It’s not exactly going to feel good if I try.” Hyunjin smiled gently at him in response, taking his uninjured hand and giving it a gentle squeeze,

“Trust me?”

“I told you I do.”

“Then come dance with me.” Felix nodded cautiously, letting Hyunjin lead him out onto the dance floor. Other couples and kids had already ventured out, swaying or bouncing along to the music in their own little worlds, only acknowledging them enough to not bump into them.

Hyunjin felt more confident like this; he liked the way people in the crowd turned to watch them curiously, and the way the music felt coursing through his muscles. It buzzed in him as if he were preparing to go on stage. The adrenaline before a performance was like anything else in the world. At least he’d thought so until he’d fallen in love. Now both mixed in his chest as he guided Felix’s hands to his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around the small boy’s waist, creating a cocktail of joy and comfort and safety in his body that he’d never thought he’d ever feel.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled, swaying their bodys slightly to the slow pace of the song. He was sure they looked like school kids at their first dance together, but he didn’t care. He felt just as giddy as he would’ve if they were kids.

“Mmm… yeah. This is good.” Felix tucked his head under Hyunjin’s chin, leaning against his chest. Hyunjin didn’t mind the pressure, he relished in Felix’s body heat pressing into him, the way their breathing slowly fell into sync with each other as they enjoyed the moment in silence. As they swayed to the music, Hyunjin caught Chan’s eye from his little stage setup; he was watching them with the biggest smile Hyunjin had ever seen him make. His best friend lifted a thumbs-up, and Hyunjin returned it, the fluttering in his stomach spreading throughout his entire body.

“This is really nice.” Felix murmured against Hyunjin’s chest, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I wish we could do this forever…” Hyunjin could tell by Felix’s tone that he was testing him, poking the waters to see if he would confess his feelings. With a sigh, Hyunjin slipped one hand up Felix’s back to cradle the back of his head, fingers massaging his scalp gently to prompt him to look up.

Their eyes met, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice how close their faces were… how easy it would be to lean in and kiss him…

No… that would be unfair to such a sensitive, sweet boy like Felix. Hyunjin knew he had to wait.

“Listen… Can we talk later? When we’re alone… I don’t want to have this conversation in front of all these people, okay?” Felix’s face started to fall so he quickly added, “It’s not bad, I promise. I just… would rather it be private.”

A spark of hope flickered in Felix’s smile as he nodded, sliding his arms from Hyunjin’s shoulder to his neck, dragging him down into a tight hug. Hyunjin buried his face into the crook of the boy’s neck, taking in his sweet, sugary scent and his warmth. He felt peaceful like this, like he was home for the first time.

“Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?” A voice interrupted their embrace as the song ended, Seungmin having walked up to them while they were lost in each other. His puppy face was lit up with an approving smile, stifling a little of the embarrassment that was heating Hyunjin’s face, “There’s some friends who want to see Lixie.”

“Oh yeah… of course. Um… I’ll be over with the cookies if you need me.”

“I’ll find you.” Felix promised, his eyes lingering on Hyunjin as Seungmin led him away until the crowd swallowed them both.

Sparks lingered on Hyunjin’s skin where their bodies were touching for so long, making him giddy as he skipped over to his post. For the first time in his life the christmas tunes that Chan played didn't seem so grating. He understood the joy and the warmth. Though he didn't have nostalgia about the holiday, Hyunjin found himself looking forward to making new memories.

He hoped they would be with Felix.

Hyunjin didn't know how much time had passed that he sat in one of the chairs behind the table stacked high with frosting and cookies. It must've been awhile because he didn't realize he'd dozed off until the metal legs of another chair scraped across the floor next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and seeing it was Minho who'd come to join him definitely didn't settle his unease.

They didn't spend much time together over the last couple days, Minho being focused helping Chan set up the hall while Hyunjin stayed in the bakery with Seungmin. The little time they did spend together, Hyunjin saw a soft side to him when he spoke to his boyfriend and when he was thinking about Felix. He wasn't so intimidatingly cold, but he clearly did not trust outsiders. Hyunjin couldn't blame him for that, he respected it.

Minho spoke, dragging Hyunjin further out of his sleepy daze. He tried to push the drowsiness away as the days of work and little rest rapidly caught up to him,

"Hm?"

"I said, he really likes you. Felix. I don't know if you know, but I've never seen him look at someone like he looks at you." Hyunjin swallowed, meeting Minho’s intense gaze as he spoke.

“Um… I think I like him too to be honest…”

A heavy palm slapped onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, startling him before he could even begin to feel the embarrassment of admitting his feelings aloud to someone else. Minho’s hands were only slightly larger than Felix’s, but his grip was strong enough to make Hyunjin quiver,

“Felix is more than just Channie’s little brother. He’s family. I love that little boy and if you hurt him you’re going to regret it.”

Hyunjin fought the instinct to turtle into his coat and hide from the intense gaze pinning him to the chair, swallowing as he managed to hold eye contact. He knew Minho was testing him, trying to see if he’d crumble and run. But he didn’t want to, he never wanted to.

“I know. If I hurt him I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.” Minho silently held his gaze for a moment before his eyes softened, a smile entertaining his lips,

“Correct answer. Welcome to the family. I better be able to trust you.”

Hyunjin blinked rapidly in shock at the sudden shift. Minho had been nothing but closed off with him since they first met, yet now he was extending a timid warmth to him. He looked friendly even. Hyunjin felt incredibly privileged,

“I uh… yes. Yes, you can trust me.”

“Minho-hyung!” Felix’s voice cut through the music as he bounced up to them, his face alight with his brilliant grin but his eyes wary as he glanced between them, “You’re not scaring Hyunjin, are you?”

“No, he’s alright.” Minho smiled as he pulled Felix into his lap, holding him by the waist as the younger boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady himself, “Are you having a good time?”

Felix nodded, grinning at the both of them. Hyunjin’s heart fluttered watching him be so cuddly with his close friend, he looked so small, vulnerable, and unbelievably cute. Though he couldn’t deny the small pang of jealousy in his belly.

“I haven’t tried the cookies yet!” Lix complained, prompting Minho to scoot a little closer to the table. Hyunjin joined them as Felix reached for the nearest tray of star-shaped cookies. Seungmin had pre-decorated these ones with gold and silver frosting, and tiny glittering sprinkles in matching colours. He picked out three and passed them out between each of them, making a happy little noise as he bit into the treat.

Hyunjin held his breath as Felix took a moment to chew slowly, savoring and analyzing the flavors. He swallowed and a warm smile broke across his face,

“Hyunjin, these taste so good!” Lix looked up at him as if in awe, taking another bite like he couldn’t believe it. Hyunjin squirmed with embarrassment, biting into his own cookie,

“I guess I had a good teacher…”

Felix beamed at him, finishing his cookie with large, hungry bites. When he finished, he used the parchment lining the tray to wrap up the remaining cookies and stick them in his pocket for later.

“I’m starting to feel tired though. It’s close to midnight.” he whined, resting his head against Minho’s to punctuate his point.

“That’s funny, I caught Hyunjin sleeping just a few minutes ago.” Minho teased. Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest, but Felix let out a loud yawn that cut him off,

“Maybe we should head home a little early?”

“If you want to leave now, I’ll walk you home.” Hyunjin offered, making Felix perk up with a smile,

"Okay, I'd like that." Minho helped Felix off his lap, giving him a playful swat on the butt,

"Be careful, no more accidents." Felix squeaked and giggled, giving his friend a quick hug,

"I'll be okay Hyung, Hyunjin is with me."

Their fingers naturally locking together, Hyunjin let Felix lead him through the crowd and out into the night. The breeze had died while they were in the party, taking the edge of bitterness out of the cold air. Still, the boys huddled together as they walked, both for warmth and the comfort of each other's proximity.

Felix talked about the letters he'd read and the signatures from friends that he'd accumulated on his cast through the night. Hyunjin really did desperately try to listen, yet with every step he took closer to the house, the more his brain melted into pudding as he realized he was getting closer and closer to having to confess his feelings.

Why am I so anxious? He asked himself, I already know how he'll react. I've already admitted how I feel.

The driveway came into view. Hyunjin thought he might throw up.

"Thank you again for everything you did." Felix said as they shuffled up toward the house, "You really didn't have to do all of that."

Hyunjin paused, stopping Felix and making him look up, confused at his sudden hesitation.

"Yes, I did." He sighed, building the courage to look Felix in the eye. The boy cocked his head, sensing the seriousness in Hyunjin's tone, "I already told you this but I do like you… a lot. In an overwhelming sort of way. It really scared me to know you were hurt. I realized that no matter how hard I tried to push my feelings away, they were just going to keep growing. I- I think I'm falling in love with you, Felix. And I want to be with you. It's the only thing I want."

“Hyunjin…” Felix’s voice was gentle, warm, his eyes welling with tears much like Hyunjin’s own, “I’m falling in love with you too.”

“Do you- Do you think we can try to work this out?” He hated the way his voice broke with the nerves and overwhelming sense of joy pulsing through him.

“I would really like that.”

Floodgates opened somewhere inside Hyunjin and all the love and desire he’d been holding back crashed through his system, washing away his doubts and fears. The crushing tide brought back the need to hold Felix, to kiss him and never let go. He didn’t need to stop himself anymore. One hand lifted to rest against the smaller boy’s cheek, pulling him in like gravity until their lips touched for the first time. Felix’s arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss with a content sigh.

All Hyunjin could think about was how his lips tasted like sugar, how when their tongues found each other, he tasted like vanilla and butter. His lips were so soft, his happy little moans and gasps the sweetest music Hyunjin had ever heard. He wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of his life.

They finally broke away when something cold and wet settled on Hyunjin’s cheek, then again on his nose, and his knuckles. Chest heaving, he looked up as snowflakes drifted down from the dark clouds above, swirling around them gently. Felix let out an excited laugh, the flakes settling on his freckles and long eyelashes. He was so beautiful.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

“Felix? Merry Christmas.” The small boy beamed at him with a grin that rivaled all the lights in the town,

“Merry Christmas, Hyunjin.”

#stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #skz au #lee felix #hyunjin #hyunlix #hyunlix fic #mine #my fic #the christmas baker #its finally done #three months late and out of season fdhdjfh #im such a slow writer im so sorry #thank you to everyone that stuck with me to read this #i hope the ending is satisfying enough #ngl i needed to stick that hyunholix scene in there because it felt weird shipping minho with someone else now that i ship them all jdhfkjd

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glowinggator · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I'm 14 years old straight (I think) girl! I have wavy black hair and black eyes, I wear glasses and I'm 5’6. I really like drawing and I'm aspiring to be a writer in the future! I can come off really meek and Awkward at first but later on I open up Abit and can come off Abit goofy sometimes. I like dresses and I think I'm pretty feminine with the way dress, all pink and try to make it cute. I always try to be there for my friends and I in courage anyone I care about to speak to me about their problems as I can and will lend an ear if they needs it, and I always comfort them with the best I can do. I have trouble standing up for myself as I have many insecurities. I have A really thick accent that can sometimes be hard to understand as English isn't my first language. I try to avoid conflicts at all causes because I hate feeling like the people I care about are mad at me, and I be the first one to apologise if things got out of hand. (Hope this is enough, And Thank you! ^^)

I match you with...

Michelangelo!! The awkwardness doesn’t put him off at all when you guys first meet: in fact, he thinks it’s kind of cute! He definitely puts in a lot of effort in bringing you out of your shell (pun 100% intended askjfsk), and gosh, he melts when you do. he thought you were gorgeous from the very beginning, but your personality really made him fall for you <3 He loves your caring and sweet nature, and he’s always here to stand up for you! You might shy away from confrontation, but just know that he’ll always be by your side! He loves to read what you write! If he really loves a concept that you have, you can bet that he’ll be drawing it later. It’s really incredible. You can tell that he put a lot of effort into drawing it exactly like you wrote it. Comics, concepts, anything! He also really likes to see your art. He’s a firm believer that art is the purest form of expression, so seeing your art is kind of like seeing a part of your soul! Plus, he really likes your style. He’s a great ear if you ever wanna talk about your issues, too. He knows that you put yourself out there a lot for your friends, so he works hard to make sure you have that same luxury! In the same branch of talking, tt’s really easy to talk with him, no matter what the medium is. He loves to stay up on the phone at night, but it’s even better when you two are together! Late night movie sessions are plentiful, and almost always end in incoherent giggling. If you still know what you’re laughing about, it isn’t late enough. Loves how cute your style is!! He loves to play with your hair and braid it. His braids are super complex, so honestly, you don’t even want to take them out! He also loves to paint your nails. Not only does he get to hold your hands, but he also gets to flex his artistic skills. It’s a win-win! Your hands fit perfectly together, it’s wonderful. Speaking of, he loves to hold your hand. It’s a small gesture, but a sweet one. Something about it just makes his heart flutter. Every now and then he’ll squeeze your hand back, like a reminder that he’s right at your side, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel that same feeling in your heart. He’s a huge fan of hugs, too. Expect a hug whenever you enter the lair! His hugs are comforting, kind of like being wrapped in a blanket on a winter day. It also helps that he’s so strong. You feel the safest when he’s holding you like that. Of course, he always parts by doing something silly. Either way, you can’t help but smile! He also draws little hearts and stars on the temples of your glasses. They wash off, though, so there’s no worry about them getting ruined. (You might find little marker stains on your actual temples, though.) He’s a huge fan of picnic dates. Whether it’s at midnight in New York, or somewhere in the Hidden City, it’s always a fun time. He makes really good food, and it’s something different every time. He also brings a couple of other things, like paper & watercolor. It’s a roulette wheel of what the activity for the day will be, honestly. Hope you’re fine with sharpie, because he loves to draw on you!! Pink and blue doodles litter the back of your hands, often taking the form of rabbits or cats. (He also doodles a little green turtle on the back of your left thumb, every time and without fail.) He loves to make you laugh!! He thinks your laugh is really cute, and he’ll do the stupidest stuff to make you giggle.

#matchups #anonymous #anon you seem like a really nice person!! i hope this was okay!! <3

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music-es-vida · 5 years ago

Text

SOULMATE AU - LUCAS/DOYOUNG

CHAPTER FIVE

The next day at school, you decided you wanted to find out for sure if you and Doyoung were soulmates.

No matter how much you tried to dismiss the thought, the flash of neon green you saw on his wrist the week before kept reappearing in your mind. So you decided you’d ask him at the end of the day, instead of avoiding him- like you wanted to.

Around the last class of the day, Doyoung fell asleep- like he normally did, because the classwork was so easy and he always finished it early. There was this group of guys in his class who always made fun of him that saw this as a perfect opportunity to play a prank on him.

“Johnny, look who’s sleep.” Haechan says, pointing across the room at Doyoung. “We should draw on his face with a permanent marker or something,” Johnny suggests with a mischievous smile. “No- we should draw over his soulmark!” Taeyong says, and Yuta laughs, nodding in agreement. “That’d be hilarious,” he says, taking out some of his different colored sharpies. Yuta was a bit of an artíst, so he was always ready with the art supplies.

There was a sub in today, and he had stopped caring about what the class did as soon as he finished handing out the packets. Now he was just absentmindedly scrolling through his phone at the teacher’s desk as the other students talked and did whatever they wanted, so the guys knew they’d definitely get away with this.

The guys walked over to Doyoung- who was still knocked out, even though it was pretty loud in the classroom. “Man, this guy can sleep through anything.” Johnny laughs. “Wait, let me test it.” Haechan says before drawing his hands back, and then swiftly bringing them together to clap into Doyoung’s ear. “Haechan! You’ll wake him up!” Taeyong complains, but he was wrong. He didn't even move.

“..Are we sure he's even alive?” Taeyong jokes with raised eyebrows.

Yuta picks up Doyoung’s left hand so they could see what his soulmark looked like before coloring over it.

“Woah- his is neon green too, just like all of ours..” Yuta says, and the others are just as shocked. “What does that even mean?” Johnny wonders, and they all just shrug. Each of them had different marks, but they were all the same shade of neon green. It was almost like they were connected somehow..

That didn't stop them from drawing over Doyoung’s though.

They each took a turn, drawing on his wrist. They decided to turn the music notes into a purple devils face- kind of like the emoji. “Now this suits him.” Haechan laughs, and the others agree before sitting his hand back down and walking back to their desks.

This kind of stuff happened to Doyoung on the regular, but he didn't really mind. He didn't see it as bullying- more as them just joking around with him. He’d get over it.

After the last class finally ended, you went out to the area by the fountain, where you usually found Doyoung reading under a tree.

He wasn't there today.

“Hmm. That's odd,” You mutter to yourself, turning around. Then you see him. You both almost bumped into each other again, but this time you both stopped before that could happen. “Almost made it a third time,” you joked, and he gave a half-smile with a nod.

“I was looking for you.” You say, but he wasn’t really listening. He looked disheveled, like he was in a rush to be somewhere or something. “Oh, you were?” He eventually answers, fumbling around with his textbooks and things, looking for something.

“Uh yeah.. is this a bad time to talk? I could just text you later..” “Are you asking for my number?” He asks. “No-” “Because I can’t even find my phone right now..”

You watched him continue fumbling around, looking for it, and offered to hold his things for him. “Thanks.” He said, dropping like 5 textbooks into your arms. “Oof-” you grunted, trying to hold them up. “You're way stronger than you look,” you laugh, already struggling to carry the textbooks.

As he searched his backpack and pockets for his phone, you noticed his left wrist.

“Purple?? ..It's purple! I can't believe I really thought-”

“Ugh, I can’t find it. I think I must've left it inside or something.” “Maybe I should call it, and if somebody found it they’ll pick up and tell us where to find them,” you suggest, and he nods, taking your phone and typing in his number.

As he holds the phone up to his ear and the number dials, you get a better look at his soulmark. “A devil?!” You gasp in shock. “What?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Oh- nothing.” You quickly shake your head. After like 5 rings, someone finally picks up the phone. “Hello?” “Hey, who is this? I need my phone back- this is Doyoung.” “Yeah, I know who this is,” the high pitched voice on the other ends laughs.

Doyoung immediately recognizes the voice. “Haechan? How did you get my phone,” he rolls his eyes. “You were sleeping in class and didn't even notice me take it.” He teases. “Where are you? I need my phone back… Hello?” He takes the phone away from his ear to look at the screen. “The brat hung up on me.”

“You know who stole it though?” “Yeah, I know who did it.” He sighs, taking his books back and handing you your phone. “Do you need help getting it back?” You ask, but he shakes his head. “No, I’ll get it myself.” He says, walking off in the direction of the dorms. He seemed irritated today.

“I can't believe I actually thought I saw neon green on his wrist when it actually was dark purple!” You say to yourself as soon as he was gone, hitting yourself over the head with your hand. You were confused. You had been so sure you’d seen green that day. “I guess I just see what I wanna see sometimes..” You sigh, a bit disappointed. It would’ve been nice to not have to search too hard for your soulmate.. Even though you were wary to meet him, it eased your mind that he could’ve been right in front of you the whole time.

“I wonder why his soulmark is a devil though,” you wonder, concerned about what that said about his character.

You looked around to see where he went, and caught a glimpse of him turning a corner, and decided to follow after him. Even though he said he didn't need any help, you were still curious to see who stole his phone. Whoever it was seemed to annoy Doyoung a lot. You could tell by the look on his face.

You jogged across the grass to follow him and as soon as you caught up, you saw a group of guys sitting on the steps of the dorm entrances. “Ah, that explains it,” you nod to yourself. You recognized them from being in a few of your classes, but you’d never spoken to them before.

Doyoung was walking over to them.

“There's our bunny!” Johnny says with a big smile on his face. “Don't call me that.” “Why not? Don't you think the name is cute?” “Haechan, give me my phone back.” He says, reaching out for it. “Do you think he's seen his new soulmark yet?” Yuta whispers loud enough for only his friends to hear, and they all start laughing.

As you peeked around the tree you were hiding behind, you wondered if Doyoung really didn’t need help. To you, it looked like those guys were ganging up on him. “You want it? Go get it.” Haechan says, throwing it across the field. It landed on the pathway, a few feet away from where you were hiding, bouncing a few times before coming to a stop. “Oh no-” you winced, watching it slide across the ground.

Doyoung runs over to go pick it up.

“Oh, that’s cracked for sure..” Johnny makes a face. “That wasn't necessary, Haechan..” Taeyong says, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, it's not his actual phone- it's just the case. I wanted to see how he’d react.” Haechan replies, and the others nod, with an ‘oh’.

You turn your gaze from the guys, over to Doyoung, who looked like he was the one who’d just gotten broken. Which was understandable, because his phone was probably like part of his body- like phones were to everyone. He just stared down at it for a moment, but eventually realizes it was just the case.

“Oh man, I think he’s crying.” Johnny says, standing up.

For some reason you suddenly felt the need to step in, so you walked around the tree you were hiding behind and approached them. “What is wrong with you guys? How could you just break his phone like that?” You ask, glaring at each and every one of them.

You probably should’ve been intimidated to approach these guys- they were much bigger than you, but you didn't care.

“Relax Y/n, I didn't really throw the phone. It's right here.” Haechan chuckles, holding it up in front of your face. “Where did she even come from?” Yuta asks with a laugh, and you roll your eyes. You swung around to see Doyoung walking back over with an even more annoyed expression on his face than before.

“So you’ve got her defending you now, huh? What, are you two soulmates or something?” Taeyong teases, leaning back onto his elbows.

Doyoung doesn't respond, but snatches his phone out of Haechan’s hand. “We’re not soulmates.” You say, shaking your head, thinking back to what his soulmark actually looked like when you’d caught a glance at it a few minutes ago. “But I couldn't just stand back and watch you guys bully him.” You cross your arms.

The others laugh, and Doyoung’s face heats up. “This is cute.” Johnny says, looking down at you. “Bunny’s got a little guardian angel.” “He doesn't even deserve one though, look at his wrist.” Yuta points out with a laugh.

Doyoung finally notices it, raising his eyebrows. He assumed they did this too while he was sleeping. “You guys are pathetic. Ganging up on him like this—” “Y/n, it's not that serious. They're just joking around.” Doyoung says, to your surprise.

You didn’t realize he dealt with this stuff all the time. He was used to it.

“Yeah, it's all just jokes.” Haechan smirks. “I said I didn't need your help, and I meant that.” Doyoung says, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. “Uh-oh, they’re fighting..” Johnny continues instigating. This whole thing was so entertaining to them.

You raise an eyebrow at Doyoung, as if to say ‘oh really?’, before shrugging and walking off. “Alright then.” You didn’t understand why he was annoyed that you had just tried to help. “Ooo, you better go after your friend. She seems mad.” Taeyong says, with a fake concerned look on his face.

Doyoung frowns, turning around to see that you were already gone. “..I barely even know her.” He mutters, before walking past the guys to get to his own dorm room.

Doyoung immediately went to the bathroom to wash off what the guys drew on his arm, but it wouldn’t come off. “Of course,” he sighed, “They used permanent marker..” he made a face, turning the water off.

It would come off eventually, but probably not for a while. As he was drying his arm off, he wondered if you’d seen his actual soulmark, or if you thought his was one that had been drawn on.

“I don’t remember ever showing her my soulmark, so how could she know if we match or not--”

“Yo, dude! Hurry up in there, I gotta go!” Doyoung’s roommate- Mark, said as he started banging on the door.

…

When you got back to your car, you called your mom and told her everything. You felt like it was finally time to talk to her about this mess. You put the phone on speaker and talked to her the whole ride back home.

You told her about Doyoung, and how you both were into music and had a talent for singing. You told her how you thought you two had the same soulmark, but how you turned out to be very wrong.

You told her about how strange Lucas was acting a few days ago at the restaurant.

You even told her how you were a bit disappointed Doyoung wasn’t the one after all. And she just listened to you intently, trying to figure out how to respond.

By the time you’d finished telling her about everything, you’d arrived home, and she suggested continuing the conversation once you got inside.

“I’m glad you finally came to me about all of this, Y/n.. The thing that shocked me the most is how you said Lucas was acting the other day.”

“I know right.. What if his soulmark changed to match mine? What if I was the one all along, and he just didn’t realize that yet?” “I.. don’t think you should worry about that. If it happens- it happens, and you’ll have to deal with it then, but most likely that won’t happen, because of how rare that is..” “I know.. I know.. It was just a thought.”

“So this Doyoung guy.. Did you want him to be your soulmate? You said you were disappointed that it wasn’t him..” “I think I was just grateful to have found him- for the short time I thought he was my soulmate, and that we had something in common. I don’t think I actually like him..” You explain, and she nods. “I see..”

Suddenly a text from your dad came in on your phone.

Your mom saw the message too, as your phone lit up, and you quickly picked it up off the table.

“Mom, is it alright if I go see dad for a few hours? ..He told me he wants to get to know me.” You hesitantly ask, studying her face to see if she looked okay with it.

She didn’t.

“If that’s what you want, then I don’t have a problem with it.” She says, contrary to what her facial expression was saying. “Are you sure?” “Yes, but just be careful, Y/n. I don’t want you to get too attached and then just end up getting hurt. Understand me?” She asks, and you nod. “I’ll be as cold towards him as possible,” you smile, and she laughs. You said it jokingly, but you meant it.

When you didn’t trust someone, your usual instinct was to just give them the cold shoulder. If they kept trying to speak to you- even after dealing with that, you knew they were genuine.

You texted your dad that you were on your way, and he sent his address, so you could meet him there instead of at the dealership.

It was only 20 minutes away.

“My whole life he was only *20 minutes* away, and never thought to come check up on me?”

You wanted to be happy that you were finally getting the chance to spend some time with him, but that one thought kept bugging you so much.

“What if he has ulterior motives? If he wanted to get to know me so bad, he would’ve come and found me years ago..”

“Maybe he’s just doing this out of guilt..”

The whole car ride over, you kept thinking up scenarios of how he could just be using you for something, but in the end you always came up with nothing.

There was nothing you had that he needed.

There was no way he could take advantage of you. Maybe he really did just want to get to know you. You hit the steering wheel with your fist, frustrated you couldn’t come up with a reason to hate him- besides the fact that he left you, which he apologized for. He was simply just trying to make up for that now.

Before you left the house, you’d texted Lucas that you were going to meet up with your dad again, and he sent two thumbs up in support, saying to call him afterwards if you needed someone to talk to about it. Lucas grew up without his mother, so in a way he understood what you were going through, but your situation was still different from his.

The GPS eventually failed you, dropping you off in the right neighborhood, but not showing you which house it was. It was a cute little neighborhood. The houses were well spread out, each had their own front and back yard. It was quiet.. And kid-friendly. It made you wonder how life would be like if you’d grown up here, instead of in a tiny apartment.

Eventually, you found the right address, and parked in the long driveway. When you got out, you saw a basketball hoop, and a bunch of other toys in the yard. “Either they run a daycare, or they have kids..” you sighed to yourself, not prepared to (possibly) meet siblings at all.

You hesitantly walked up the steps of the porch, and rang the doorbell. It was the kind with the camera on it, so you avoided looking at it because you knew they could see you. “Of course they have a Ring Doorbell.. This place is so boogie.”

Almost immediately, the door swings open to reveal a blonde haired woman. “Hi! You must be Y/n, I’m Melody,” she hugs you, “I’ll call your father down. You can go wait in there,” she says with a friendly smile, gesturing to the huge room to the right.

You gave her a fake smile back, thanking her before slowly making your way into the living room. You wanted so much to hate the woman your dad left you and your mom for- you’d spent your whole life blaming her for what happened to your family, but she already seemed so nice that you just couldn’t.

“Wow.. this place is pretty nice.” You said to yourself in awe, looking up at the ceiling, the furniture, everything- all the decorations, the wallpaper. Everything was just so nice. It looked like one of those model homes you visit, but never end up buying. “This place makes my house look like an unfinished basement.” You laugh to yourself, and hear someone chuckle behind you.

You swing around to see your dad had come into the room. “Hey Y/n,” he smiled, giving you a hug. Unlike with Melody, you actually hugged him back. “Hey dad. This house is so nice! This whole neighborhood is cute.” You say with a smile. “Yeah, it’s pretty comfortable here.” He nods, gesturing for you to sit down on the couch with him.

“So, I don’t know where to start-- um.. Just tell me about yourself.” He says, and his eyes light up as he says it. He seemed really genuine about this. You were trying to be skeptical of everything, but you decided to let your guard down just a little bit. You told him about your hobbies, things you liked to do with your friends. You told him about Lucas- since he was your only close friend. You told him how you and your mom spend the weekends playing board games every Saturday night.

You told him a lot, and the whole time he just smiled and nodded, really listening. Eventually he told you a bit about himself, and turns out you both were alike. He was musically inclined as well, and could basically play every instrument out there. At one point, he took you into the basement (gorgeous looking room), so he could show you how well he was at playing pretty much everything. Any instrument you could think of was down there. There even was a recording studio.

It was a wonder he wasn’t famous yet, with all that talent.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were having a really great time here with him, and could definitely see this becoming a regular part of your life now.

It got late, and you told him your mom wanted you back before it got dark, so he walked you out to your car. Before you could leave, though, he asked you a serious question. “Y/n.. I want you to move in with us. We have an extra bedroom- it’s huge, you’d love it, and we really think it would be a great way for us to get to know you better. Is that.. Something you’d want?” He asks, a bit nervously.

You are so stunned that you can’t even answer. You end up just shaking your head, wide-eyed. “It’s okay- you don’t have to decide right now. Think it over. Discuss it with your mom, of course. I wouldn’t want her to think I’m taking you away from her.” “O-okay.. I’ll think it over.” You eventually stutter out, and he smiles. “Get home safe, okay? Text me when you get home.” He says, walking back onto the porch.

He watches as you drive away before heading back into the house, and you feel like screaming. All sorts of thoughts were filling your mind- “What if I *do* move in with them? Will I have to transfer to some crazy private school? What if I end up being a burden to them? What will mom think? I can’t believe I’m even considering this. Will she think this is betrayal? I can’t abandon her like he did..”

You were so distracted that you didn’t even see the deer jump in front of your car.

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fabrowrites · 5 years ago

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The Ninja Create Fursonas

Despite the title, no furries were harmed in the making of this fic

----------

When the announcement first comes through, Jay's thrilled. He can't believe it's real. It's like something out of a dream. When the day finally comes and they're on their way to the studio, he sits in the back seat and practically vibrates in place for the entire trip.

A hand settles on his thigh. "Settle down, Jay!" Cole says, laughing. "You're charging up enough energy to give us all static shocks for a week. Is your brain exploding? You're so jittery today."

"Of course I'm jittery," Jay snaps. "How are you not? This is like, the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

This thing being- wanting to ride their latest wave of popularity after defeating the Preeminent (and Nadakhan, but apparently he didn't count- yes, Jay was salty), a toy-making company had approached the group and asked if perhaps they'd be interested in a line of stuffed toy creatures made after them? As if they'd say no. And if that wasn't enough, they also wanted the ninja to be the ones to design them.

Jay just might pass out in the back of this van.

They'd been escorted into a cozy-looking room with long tables and chairs and given giant pads of paper and black markers. The head artist gave them a rundown of guidelines- nothing scandalous, certainly; they should try to make each character cute, relatable, and most of all marketable- and oh, wouldn't it be neat if they each had something to do with their element?

Jay had agreed readily. He sized up the sketch pad in front of him and cracked his knuckles. Okay, brain. Let's do this.

Except that was forty-five minutes ago and Jay's no closer to an idea than when he began. He bangs his head against the table with a long, drawn-out groan. His sketch pad drops uselessly from his hands.

"It's no use," he whines. "I don't have a creative bone in my body. I'm gonna have to pack my bags and move to the south and become a repressed goat farmer."

Kai mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "not a creative bone in my body my butt." But when Jay looks over at him, the fire ninja's attention is fixed firmly to his own board.

Blearily, Jay raises his head. Everything he's drawn looks like trash. There's a weird leopard creature scribbled out in the corner. Next to it is a lizard that looks like a cross between Rango and that purple thing from Monsters Inc except with none of their good qualities and all of their bad. A sad bird-thing sits in the center. It looks disappointed in him despite its lack of face. Maybe the blankness enhances it.

He drops his marker on the table and leans back with a long groan.

"It can't be all that bad," Nya says. She's bent over beside him, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she fills something in. Jay sighs without moving.

"I couldn't think of anything to draw so I started drawing Kai as a porcupine."

Nya whistles lowly. "That is bad," she says. Both of them ignore Kai's outraged shout of: "Hey! My face is the best inspiration you'll ever get!" She sets down her own pad, closing the cover. "Maybe if we show you what we've done, it'll inspire you."

"Or it'll just make me feel worse about myself," Jay grumbles, but he sits up in his seat properly. "Okay. Let's try that. Do you have anything?"

Nya shrugs the way she does when she's proud of something she did but doesn't want to call attention to it. "There was something I was working on." She flips open her sketchbook. Jay scoots his chair closer to hers. His eyes widen.

"Woah, Nya! That's actually really cool!"

"Actually?" Nya asks, raising her eyebrow, but she laughs when Jay pouts at her. "Oh, fine. Thanks. It's not much yet, but-"

The character on her paper is a seal, small and round, with dark eyes and a happy puppy face. At the edges of the sheet are more drawings- one has the seal in a wetsuit; another puts it in diver fins and a snorkel.

"I wanted to experiment around," Nya says. "I think I like the wetsuit one the best."

"That one's cute," Jay agrees.

From Nya's right side comes a groan. "Will you two keep it down?" Kai complains. "Some of us are trying to work here."

"Some of us are trying to work here too, but we can't," Jay sends back. Not one of his best comebacks, but it's to Kai. "I've got brain blockage and Nya's helping me out."

Kai glances over and sees what they're doing. He perks up. "Oh, are we sharing?" He sits up straighter and drums his fingers on the table. "Hey, guys! We're sharing!"

"Oh, good!" says Cole. "I wanted your feedback on something."

"Me too," says Zane.

Jay narrows his eyes at both of them. "This right now?" he says. "This is about me. Not you."

Cole waves his hand. "Of course, of course."

The way he says it has Jay hhmphing, but they both turn their focus to Kai as the fire ninja loudly demands their attention.

Kai has created what appears to be a horse, except that it has a few too many legs, a creepy tongue drooling out of its face, and horns. So it's actually not like a horse at all. Somehow it's both angular and blobby at the same time. Ah, the dualities of Art.

"I thought we were supposed to be making these marketable," Zane says with a tilt of his head.

"This is marketable!" Kai protests. "Kids are like, bonkers for dragons."

Ah, so that's what the blob is, Jay thinks. "Bonkers?" he snickers aloud. "What are you, seventy? Did you try cuckoo too? What about nutty?"

"Bananas," Lloyd pipes up. "Gaga. Buggy."

"Okay, okay, we get it," Kai grumbles. "You like to talk."

"That wasn't my point at all," Jay says, but he concedes it. He does like to talk, after all.

"Why does it have six legs?" asks Nya.

"Those are its wings," Kai sniffs.

Nya bursts out laughing, slapping her hand on her knee, eyes closed into crescents. "Hey!" Kai shouts, shoving her from her chair. "You know that drawing's not my real talent."

"Oh, we know," Cole says under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" Cole grins. "I'll go next." He flicks back a page or two. "So I originally wanted to do a bear, because bears are cool and they're the deadliest animal on the planet."

"I'm pretty sure you meant to say 'shark'," Nya says.

"I'm pretty sure I said what I meant to say," Cole snips back. He returns his attention to his drawing board. "But bears are too overdone in this day and age."

Jay can't even make fun of him for saying 'this day and age' like some grandma because he's too busy currently gaping at the art on Cole's board.

The character on Cole's paper is definitely not a bear.

"Bears are overdone," Cole says. "So I thought, why not make a narwhal?"

"How on earth," Jay asks faintly, "did you make the jump from bear to narwhal?"

Cole shrugs. "It made sense at the time."

"What's a narwhal?" Lloyd asks. His marker is flying a mile a minute across his sketch pad and his eyes never leave the page.

"It's a unicorn fish," Jay says, turning a disbelieving eye back to the earth ninja. Cole just grins. "A unicorn fish that no one cares about. What happened to giving me inspiration?" he demands. "You've just killed any ideas I might have had!"

Cole pouts.

"I, for one, think it's adorable!" Nya's come up behind Cole now and is peering at his sketch pad. Hearing her words, Cole brightens. "Does it have a name?"

"I was thinking Gnarly."

Nya nods sagely. "That's uber-rad, bro."

Bring Me to Life is playing on a psychedelic loop inside Jay's head. Wake me up inside, wails the lead vocalist, but Jay can't wake up (save me).

"Am I the only one taking this seriously?" he whines. "Guys. This is like, our legacy."

"I'm pretty sure our legacy is saving the city," Kai drawls, "not whatever these characters will be."

"Our legacy," Jay emphasizes. "Don't you realize how cool this is? How many people get to say they have their own cartoon character?"

Cole shrugs. "Exactly. That's why I'm having fun with it. Hey, do you think that Gnarly would look good with a monocle?"

"I'm taking it seriously," Lloyd says. "Look at mine."

"Gnarly would look absolutely dapper in a monocle, how could you even ask that."

"How big is he?" asks Zane. "That would have to be one big piece of glass."

"Hey, guys."

"Ooh, you should give him a mohawk."

"A mohawk? He's a fish! Fish don't have hair!"

"I'm pretty sure it's a mammal, actually."

An explosion rockets the left side of the room. Jay startles so badly he almost falls out of his chair. His eyes dart around for the threat, only to lock eyes with a smirking Lloyd. A smirking Lloyd who still has his fist raised, faint wisps of smoke rising from his fingers.

Jay lets out an inhuman shriek. It's a wonder that no one's come in to check on them, honestly. "Lloyd!"

"What?" Lloyd grins. "You weren't paying attention to me."

"We've raised a brat," Cole says. "An absolute menace."

Lloyd's grin intensifies. "As I was saying…"

He spins his board around with all the pomp and circumstance of a ten-year-old who learned how to act through daytime television. Somehow, despite them only having been given black sharpie markers to draw with, Lloyd has colored his character in with crayon. It's a shockingly detailed goat-creature. Its fur has been colored a mint green, and it's wearing a golden sweater with dragons crossing the sides.

It looks like it was ripped from the pages of an actual comic book.

"Woah!" Kai says, launching himself across the table and sending no less than three markers flying as he goes in for a closer look. "That's awesome, Lloyd!" He beams at the younger ninja. "What is it?"

Nya scoffs. "Obviously it's an alpaca, you dolt."

"It's a yak," Cole says.

Jay makes a disagreeing noise. "No, I'm pretty sure it's a goat."

"Guys," Lloyd says, looking extremely disappointed in all of them, "it's a llama."

They sit in silence for a moment.

"Ooh," Jay says. "Alright. That makes a bit more sense."

"Is it my turn?" Zane asks. Unlike some other members whose names shall not be mentioned, he waits until their attention is on him before starting. "I put a lot of thought into this character."

He turns around his paper. Jay chokes on his water. Tears stream from his eyes and he's coughing, but when he wipes them away the picture stays the same.

In the middle of the page, in the glorious high definition only a nindroid could hope to achieve, is a shark that looks like it came right out of some Super Bowl halftime slot. Its eyes are vacant. Its mouth is open in an agonized scream. It's standing in a starfish pose, legs in lieu of a tail.

"My character is a shark," Zane says, as if it needed any explanation.

Everyone stops and looks at him. Zane's the picture of earnestness, eyes wide and unguarded. At this exact moment, he looks like a five-year-old presenting some horrific drawing to its mother. As the silence stretches on, his face falls. "Is it not on target enough? I know we were supposed to be making something related to our element, but there are not that many snow creatures."

The group glances at each other, expressions veering towards the panicked side. By some unspoken agreement, they all reach the same conclusion.

"Oh, no!" says Nya. "We were all just surprised by how good you draw."

"It's a great shark, Zane," Cole says, tone a bit forced. The expression in his eyes doesn't match the grin on his face.

"Yeah," Jay says lamely. "I like how- how blue it is."

Zane beams.

"It looks like you're well on your way!" says a new voice. It's the head artist, coming back into the room. She looks around approvingly at the studio of chaos. "Well done. I knew I heard the sounds of productivity in here."

Apparently productivity sounds like random explosions and screaming now. That's- honestly not that far off the mark, considering that Jay's a literal ninja for his job.

"The next step, if you haven't already," says the artist, "will be coming up with names." Cole high-fives Nya. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you again!"

The room descends into voices once again as she leaves.

"I need a cool name for my dragon," Kai says immediately. "There's got to be a way to combine my name with it, right?"

"Kragon," Cole suggests. "Drakai."

Kai wrinkles his nose. "Kragon? Like that weirdo from the LEGO line?"

"No, you're thinking of Cragger," Lloyd says. "Kragon is that magical crystal thing Jedi use."

Jay rolls his eyes. "No, that's a kyber. Didn't I raise you better than this? Kragon is that website that people sell stuff on."

"No, that's Craigslist."

"Whatever it is," Kai interrupts, "I don't like it. So you nerds can all drop it now."

"I think I'll call mine Neela," Nya says.

Cole glances at her sketchpad and makes a noise of approval. "Neela and Gnarly," he says. "Hey! Ours could be best friends!"

"You're already coming up with backstory?" Jay protests. "I haven't even started my character!"

"Well stop whining and just make one!" Cole says, exasperated.

Jay pouts. At the other end of the table, Lloyd's cackling up a storm as he writes name after name down the side of his paper. Jay leans over to see: his favorites seem to be Llod, Llyod, and Floyd judging on the circles he's made around them.

Jay sighs and leans back in his seat. Nya's abandoned her spot beside him to go brainstorm with Cole, and Kai's still tossing ideas out to the group even though no one's listening to him.

"Ooh, what about Kaitron?"

"That just sounds like a robot," Jay complains. Inspiration cuts through the cloud of his mind like a knife. "That's it!"

The entire room stops and stares at him. Seeing that he's just stood abruptly and slammed his sketch pad against the table, Jay can't blame them. "Kai," he says, "you're a genius." As quickly as he stood he's seated again, turning over a new page and beginning to sketch.

"I'm a what?" Kai asks, somewhere in the background.

Jay outlines a triangular shape. Then a body with one big wheel instead of legs. He fills up his page with sketches, mind vomiting up ideas faster than he can put them on paper. Yes. Yes! This was exactly what he wanted!

"Everyone!" he says- practically demands their attention. He rips the top sheet off his sketchpad with a flourish. "Meet NJ, your friendly little shapeshifting robot friend! The double emphasis on friendliness means that it's full of love."

"Shapeshifting?" Lloyd asks. "Woah, that's neat!"

Jay nods, grinning. "He can turn into anything, as long as it's non-organic." He points out some sketches of NJ as a toaster, as a spy drone, as an umbrella.

"That's- actually a cool idea, Jay," Cole says. "I like it!"

"Hey!" Jay protests. "Are you telling me that all my other ideas aren't cool?"

Cole grins. "You said it first," he points out.

"Kriff!" shouts Kai. For a second Jay thinks the fire ninja is swearing, but it turns out he's talking to his dragon. "Perfect name. Done."

The head artist chooses this moment to re-enter the room. She beams when she sees all their sketchpads laid out. "Looking good, everyone! Do you all have designs now?" They nod. "Great. Well, our next step will be for each of you working with our on-location artists to better flesh out your concepts. Oh, and then backstories!" She grins. "I'll go call them in."

She leaves. Kai stares at his paper. "I hope my artist likes challenges," he finally says.

#ninjago #ninjago fic #ninjago fanfic #based on the making of bt21 videos #this is so chaotic

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poisonepel · 5 years ago

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Halloween at Night Raven! ♡ Savanaclaw

【Halloween at Night Raven! Special ☆ Savanaclaw Booth】

[Prologue] [Heartslabyul] [Octavinelle] [Scarabia] [Pomefiore] [Ignihyde] [Diasomnia]

You decide to carve pumpkins.

As you made your way towards Savanaclaw’s Pumpkin Carving booth, you were very amused to see how cheesy and basic it all looked.

The booth consisted of three wooden tables, each set with some pumpkins and carving tools. Taped to the side of the middle table was a white banner with “Fun Pumpkin Carve with Savana!” written in messy black paint. Squished beneath Savana, the second half claw was scribbled in blue marker. One poorly drawn jack o’ lantern sat at the corner of the banner.

Your mind went back to Headmaster Crowley’s speech at the assembly, when he had said he was very impressed with each dorm’s contribution to the party, and you wondered whether or not Savanaclaw was included in that. This certainly didn’t look up to par with anything.

Also, you were the only visitor here. Three members of the dorm’s members were in charge of this booth—the dorm leader Leona, Ruggie, and Jack—and they were the only other people here, idly chatting at one of the tables together while cheesy Halloween songs played from a radio laying next to them. But the second they noticed you, they immediately leapt to attention.

“Oh, (Y/n)! Are you here to carve pumpkins?” Ruggie called.

“Why else would I be here?” you called back. “...Has no one else come by yet?”

“Nope!”

Now you were really starting to reconsider. Maybe you would’ve had much more fun at Diasomnia’s haunted house booth instead... They always had the most popular booth.

But, you knew these three very well, and you didn’t mind spending some time with them. Plus, if not for you, they would’ve been here alone the whole night. So you took a seat at the table next to Leona, deciding you wouldn’t mind spending your Halloween very casually with three of your favorite people.

“Well, I doubt anyone else is gonna show up, so... I guess we can start,” Leona said, placing a fat pumpkin in front of you. “Have fun carving or whatever.”

“‘Or whatever,’” Ruggie echoed, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Why’d you even pick this dumb kids activity anyway? Nobody wants to do it. I bet (Y/n)’s only here ‘cause they felt bad for us. Huh, (Y/n)?”

“...I-I was actually looking forward to this,” you admitted.

“Uh, Howl’s the one who thought of this, not me,” Leona clarified, brushing over you. “So if you’ve got any complaints, direct them all to him.”

Jack scowled. “We only went with this ‘cause your lame ass couldn’t think of anything better.”

“Well neither could Ruggie’s.”

You let out a small smile at the trio’s bickering, knowing that this was a very common occurrence between them. “Carving pumpkins isn’t so bad,” you insisted. “It’s a Halloween staple!”

“Well, you do you..” Jack shoved a few carving tools in front of you, as well as some paper templates in case you wanted to use those. Ruggie, for some reason, also began sawing the top off his own pumpkin, despite the blatant distaste for this activity he’d expressed just a second ago.

“Originally we were gonna have a contest,” Ruggie informed you as he worked. “Whoever carved the best pumpkin would get to take a picture with that scarecrow over there holding their pumpkin.” He pointed over to a corner, where there was a scarecrow dressed in a ragged Savanaclaw uniform, sitting atop a pile of hay. You didn’t say it out loud, but the set-up looked hideous. “And there’s also some candy in that cauldron next to it for the winner to take, too. I picked that out. It’s the good candy.”

“...”

It really looked like these three had run to the party store last-minute and just bought all the generic Halloween decorations they could find. They even had those plastic skeletal goblets set on the table, filled with some kind of fruit drink, which they would periodically drink out of. There was no theme - just, cheap plastic Halloween decor.

“Anyway, I guess to make the night interesting, we’ll just have a contest between the four of us,” Ruggie went on. “But really it’s just between me and (Y/n) ‘cause I doubt the other two will even try.”

Jack immediately got offended. “Lay off, Bucchi. You’re just mad ‘cause I’m better than you at everything else.” Then, feeling spitefully motivated, he grabbed a paper template and began tacking it to his own pumpkin, one that he was certain would look better than Ruggie’s no matter how hard Ruggie tried.

But Ruggie only stuck his nose up. “See, Howl, you’re not even doing it right—you’re supposed to scoop out all the seeds before you tack—”

“Can you mind your damn business?”

Ruggie ignored him. “And Leona—”

Leona had been busying himself drawing on another pumpkin, a messy lion monster face in Sharpie, and was just finishing coloring in a ragged scar going through its eye. “Done.”

“You didn’t even carve it! That was the whole point of this!”

“Shut up, my pumpkin is a masterpiece.” Leona hissed, before stretching back, feeling very exhausted with all the work he had put into that 2-minute drawing.

Jack’s grin reappeared on his face. “What were you expecting from the dorm leader, Bucchi? You should be surprised he even bothered to try.”

“He can’t participate in the contest if he didn’t even carve it,” Ruggie insisted, crossing his arms. “Drawing talent isn’t the same as carving talent.”

“You call that drawing talent?!”

“...Rude,” Leona huffed. “You know I’d be more motivated if there was a better incentive. Like...” His eyes trailed around the area, before they landed on (Y/n). Then he smirked. “Hey, let’s change the rules a bit. Instead of candy, the winner gets... a kiss from (Y/n).”

“...What.” You froze. Your brows creased. Then you hesitated. “...What if I win?”

“Then you can make all of us do whatever you want.”

You took a longer pause. “...For how long?”

“Uhhh,” Leona looked up, thinking for a second. “A day?”

“Deal.”

“Wait, I didn’t agree to that—” Ruggie cut in. “I don’t like that look in (Y/n)’s eyes. Also, I don’t even want some stupid kiss anyway.”

“Yeah, what the hell?” Jack agreed. “I wanted the candy.”

“Fine, you guys can have whatever you want if you win. But I’ll get a kiss.”

“If you want a kiss from me, you’ll have to get a kiss from everyone,” you clarified. “The winner gets to pick the punishment, but it has to be the same for everybody.”

“...I don’t want a kiss from Howl.”

“Really? Howl’s been wanting one from you, though,” Ruggie grinned.

The tips of Jack’s ears immediately went red. But he didn’t spare a moment in dipping his hand inside the center bowl, which was filled with pumpkin guts, and flung a handful directly at Ruggie’s face.

“...! Howl!” Ruggie cried, alarmed, as if Jack had come onto him unprompted. He retaliated by snatching up Jack’s pumpkin and chucking it at the ground—which was not something you were expecting at all. Your mouth was agape when gourd bits splattered everywhere, staining the area with stringy, gooey, orange slime.

Jack, however, couldn’t have cared less about the pumpkin.

“Pretty sure you just got disqualified for that,” he said, knowing Ruggie was literally the only one passionate about this contest.

“...!”

Leona simpered. Now neither of them were able to participate; with Jack’s pumpkin destroyed and Ruggie disqualified, Leona had less competition, which meant a better chance to win. He didn’t even have to do any work to get them out. So he was very pleased.

“Between you and me now, babe,” he winked at you, still with that lazy smirk on his face. “And I’m changing my reward. If I win, all three of you have to be my slaves for a day.”

“...‘Cause that’s nothing new,” Ruggie muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll win for you, Ruggie,” you assured him.

“Please,” Ruggie replied. “I don’t care what you do to me; I just want Leona to suffer.”

So, determined, you shot Leona a glance, who looked equally as motivated to win this contest. And then you began.

It took about an hour and a half for you to complete your pumpkin monster. By the time you were done, you were smiling very triumphantly—until something dawned on you.

“...Wait, who’s even judging the contest?”

“........”

“...Well, when we thought of this...” Ruggie started, “we thought more people would show up, so us three weren’t supposed to participate... but I guess we can do a vote? Me and Howl.”

“...!” Leona let out a low hiss, knowing fully well neither of them would ever vote for him.

And so, the winner was you.

You smiled gleefully when you got to pose with that hideous DIY scarecrow the three of them had built, holding your pumpkin monster proudly at the camera. Your photo printed on a Halloween-framed film that read, “Have a SPOOK-tacular Halloween!” with cartoon bats and ghosts on it.

According to Ruggie, Leona was the one who picked the film out when they’d gone to the party store last week. Knowing that, you cherished the photo; you thought it was cute how hard they all worked to put this together—even though it wasn’t phenomenal.

But, the Savanaclaw boys didn’t care much for the photo with the scarecrow—those three were much more eager to hear your terms for your “reward.”

“Oh, the three of you will just have to accompany me on one of my busy errand days,” you told them, “and help me with anything I need help with.”

That didn’t seem so bad.

Key word: seem.

・━━━━✥◈✥━━━━・

[Halloween at Night Raven! Masterlist]

#twisted wonderland #twst fics #savanaclaw #leona #jack #ruggie #leona x gn reader #jack x gn reader #ruggie x gn reader

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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gold coloured prisms of light, chapter one (branjie) - holtzmanns

His older sisters talk about soulmates with hearts in their eyes, about the boys at school whose arms they keep checking for matching Sharpie marks. Because, they say to him, it runs in families. Not everyone finds their soulmate, not everyone can write and have it show up on their soulmate’s skin.

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 5059

AN: This fic wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it. Hope you enjoy! Only thing to note is that their age difference is two years, rather than five, but other than that nothing is different. Aside from the soulmates part, that is. Writ is the best beta and cheerleader and I love them <3

Brock learns about soulmates when he’s four.

His mother shows him a scribble on her arm, matching the one that his father has just drawn on his own forearm with a marker.

Brock doesn’t understand how it works, how drawing on his own arm doesn’t make anything appear on anyone else’s. He doesn’t get the idea of a soulmate - two people that are made for each other.

Brock supposes his parents must be soulmates, from the way that they often turn towards each other, having conversations without words with just a glance, just a slight touch.

He wonders what it would be like.

But some people have some extra help in finding theirs.

There’s the librarian in his school, Mrs. Chen, who always wears long sleeves whenever Brock goes at lunchtime to read there to be away from the other kids because they’re too loud, noisy. She always grabs the books from the top shelves for him, hands them to him with kind eyes as if she knows a lot of things about the world and wants to share them. But even when he sees the ink peeking out from her sleeve by her wrist, the ever so changing marks, he never has the courage to ask.

Maybe Brock doesn’t even have one. It’s okay, because he likes being by himself. He can’t imagine having someone else to spend time with forever, like his parents.

Brock is five and lying on his bed when scribbles appear on his arms.

They’re haphazard, no recognizable letters or numbers, or even pictures. They’re drawn with an unsteady hand, ink bleeding along the surface of his skin in a multitude of colours that grow and grow and grow.

He pulls on a sweater because he doesn’t know what else to do.

His sister tugs on his sleeve when he comes down for lunch and is about to eat a bite of Mac and cheese. “What are those?”

“What?” Brock is defensive as he scarfs down another bite, because he himself doesn’t know what is happening and how is he going to wash it off and-

“Did you draw those?” His sister doesn’t give him a chance to answer, pulling him up from his seat and rubbing her fingers on his ink stained skin and looking to see if the colour transfers. She lets out a gasp when she sees that it doesn’t.

“Mom! Dad!”

Brock shrinks from their gaze when they come bounding down the stairs, along with his other sister. He crosses his arms, tucking his hands underneath so that they can’t see but then his mother points at his neck.

“There, look.”

Brock runs to the bathroom, and gasps when the scribbles have seemed to grow even more.

“Must be a toddler, or another kid, from these scribbles.” Brock’s mother’s voice is soft as she comes up behind him with his dad, looking at Brock in the mirror.

“I don’t want a baby.” Brock is five. He’s not a little kid anymore.

“She’s not going to stay a baby forever. Nor will she always have free range with a bunch of markers to draw on herself like this.” Brock’s mother flips his hand over, looks at the purple webs drawn on there. “She’s quite the little artist.”

“Why does it have to be a girl?” Brock grumbles. The girls in his school are weird, and one told him that he was too tall.

“That’s the way things are.”

Brock doesn’t get it, but he supposes it’ll make sense later.

The marks start to fade while he’s getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth. They disappear fast, as if someone is scrubbing at them, before his skin is completely ink free as he climbs into bed.

He wonders if his soulmate’s mother was angry about all of the scribbles.

Brock is seven before another drawing appears on his arm.

It makes him gasp, pull down the sleeve of his sweater. Part of him had started to believe that the scribbles had been a dream, made up by his subconscious after hearing so many stories about his parents and the tales woven by his sisters.

He had started wearing t shirts again, no longer fearing that a wayward scribble would appear on his skin, not after it had been two years since his arms and neck and chest had lit up in rainbows. He’d supposed that his soulmate’s parents had stopped letting them near any markers.

Until now, because he’s pulled up his sleeve and now there’s a smiley face on his wrist and a messy star beside it, and it doesn’t hurt, but he feels like he’s electrified, his heart beating faster and faster while his teacher, Mrs. Paul, is trying to teach them about what photosynthesis is.

He still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter, because the drawings have stopped, and now he’s staring at them under his desk and seeing how his soulmate’s drawings have changed. They’re no longer scribbles - now, the small doodles are drawn with an unsteady hand like one would expect from a kid like him, or maybe younger. Brock wonders how old they are now.

He rifles through his desk, a wave of disappointment washing over him when he realizes that he’d leant his markers to his friend Sean at lunchtime, who still has them in his desk. He pulls out a gel pen that his sister had given him earlier in the year, wonders if it’ll work.

It’s worth a shot.

He draws a smiley face next to the one already on his arm.

Waits.

Another one appears, right beneath his elbow.

Then one by his palm.

Then Brock’s teacher calls on him and he stutters because he didn’t hear the question, then his classmates are laughing at him and he’s turning red and sinking in his seat, wishing to disappear.

But when he looks down, he sees a flower. One by his wrist.

It makes Brock feel better, somehow.

It’s another six months before there’s more than just drawings that show up on Brock’s arms.

He’s doing his homework at the kitchen table with his sisters, ignoring the way that his parents are arguing in the den (the door is closed, but he can still hear them, and he’s sure that his sisters can too). He pulls up his sleeves like he’s become used to doing in the past few months, looking for more art upon his skin.

This time, there’s a star, and four letters. Four haphazardly drawn letters that Brock can make out if he squints.

J o s e

They’re messily written, with shaky hands. Brock’s not quite sure if it says ‘Tose’ instead, but ‘Jose’ sounds like a name and he’s sure that there’s someone named Jose in the class above him, so it must be a name.

The words show up again on his skin, underneath the original letters. Then again, until his wrist is covered and all Brock can see is the name Jose Jose Jose.

Is that his soulmates name? Brock wonders if he’s practicing writing it.

He interrupts the writing, grabbing the Sharpie from the cup of pens on the table and writes down Brock.

The writing stops.

Then, in shaky letters-

B r o c k

- and a smiley face.

He wonders what his soulmate thinks of his name.

Brock’s arms become a mosaic of letters from A to Z, interspersed with the stars and smiley faces and flowers that are ever changing. There’s words sometimes, words like cat and sat and mat and hat, but most importantly, Jose and Brock.

The writing becomes more self assured over time, neater, less shaky. Then, eventually, he sees-

Brock nearly scrambles off of his bed to grab the Sharpie that’s taken up permanent residence on his desk to write a response back.

Brock has barely dropped his Sharpie onto his bed when more words start to appear.

My nam is Jose

I know

My name is Brock

I know

Jose. His soulmate’s name, his actual name, is Jose.

At least, Brock thinks that Jose is a boy. He’s never met a girl named Jose before.

His mother is wrong, maybe he does have a boy soulmate.

It makes him feel better than it should.

Brock becomes great at deciphering Jose’s handwriting. The letters that would look like scribbles to anyone else trying to read them are like a lifeline to him.

Brock’s lying in bed, having just woken up and he needs to get ready for school, by the way his father has already slammed the door, already left for work, and the way his mom is yelling up the stairs to his sisters to get out of the bathroom.

He pulls on a sweater, ready to cover up the marks like he does at school, after a classmate of his had pointed at them and asked what they were in second grade. He doesn’t want anyone else to see them, because they’re just his and Jose’s, just theirs.

Playing soccar todai :)

He wonders where Jose lives. Right now, as he looks out the window, it’s December and it’s snowing and he knows he’s going to have to wear his winter boots and his snowpants and his giant jacket if he doesn’t want to freeze.

That sounds fun

Ya I’m relli good

I want to play soccer too

It’s not true, not exactly. He doesn’t really like gym class, or when soccer balls or basketballs come his way, because he’d rather duck instead of having them hit him. He doesn’t want to get hurt, even if it makes his gym teacher yell at him every single time.

But maybe it would be fun with Jose.

Wat are you doing todai?

School then dance

He’d begged and begged and begged his mom to let him take dance classes the way his sisters do, and his mom had relented, letting him take some jazz classes. Except he still wants to take ballet, like his sisters do in their pink leotards and the buns in their hair.

Brock is nervous about mentioning dance to Jose, because the boys in his class had teased him for it, even though some of the girls from his class are at the studio, too. Would Jose make fun of him, too?

I like dance too

Brock gasps, his heart filling with something akin to hope, lightness.

You take dance classes too?? What kind? I do jazz

I dunno I just dance

Brock lets out a little laugh. He wonders what it would be like to meet Jose in person, if everything he said would delight Brock the way his words always do.

Brock’s mother sees the words on his arms one night when he’s nine, as he rolls his sleeves up to wash his hands before dinner.

“Is she finally writing to you now?”

Brock yelps, pulling down his sleeves because what if she sees Jose’s name and their conversations? He catches his breath once his arms are covered, safe.

“Yeah.”

It bothers Brock, the way his mom says ‘she’. The way she can’t possibly fathom that he could have a soulmate who is also a boy. What’s wrong with it?

He doesn’t know, because they don’t mention soulmates at church. Nor does he know why his mom muttered under her breath when they passed two guys on the street holding hands, even though Brock had thought it looked quite nice to do. He had wondered whether Jose would hold his hand like that.

“Can I see?” His mother reaches out for his arm and Brock dodges her grasp, crossing his arms.

“No.” His voice comes out more panicked than he wants it to, but he doesn’t want her to see and be mad at him for it.

He’s afraid that she would be.

Brock pulls his sleeves up past his palms as they eat dinner, and it’s good, really, that his mom and dad are arguing again because now it means that his mom won’t want to look at the writing on his arms anymore. Even though the yelling is loud, and his sisters are both texting underneath the table, tuning it out. Brock doesn’t have a phone, so he can’t do that, but he does have-

Jose.

Brock draws a smiley face on his arm. His and Jose’s way of alerting each other when they want to talk.

It’s two, three minutes before Jose draws one back, with its tongue sticking out.

Brock smiles, despite the way his dad slams his fist on the table, making his fork clatter against his plate. It startles him, just for a second, because Jose starts to write.

I’m eating pizza 4 dinner

Wat about you

Casserole

Ew what’s that it sounds gross

Brock has to stifle a laugh as he writes back.

It IS gross

Yuck

How are you doing????

I’m ok

Brock doesn’t want to talk about how his dad has stormed off to his study, how his mom is eating in silence, how his sisters are too. How this has become the norm, more often than not.

Brock had previously thought that soulmates never fight. Now, he guesses that it’s not true.

He wonders what would happen if his father drew on his arm again, if anything would actually show up on his mother’s skin the way that it used to.

Brock

Brock’s eye catches on his wrist when he sees the words appear, tossing the pencil he was using to do homework to the side in favour of his Sharpie.

He’s twelve and middle school is a place that he does not want to be, because the other kids in his class are mean, teasing him about stupid things and he wishes that he didn’t have to go.

He wishes that Jose went to his school, because at least he would have a friend there.

Yeah?

My abuela

She’s in the hospital

We’re in a waiting room

My mom is crying

Brock can feel his stomach turn. Jose talks about his abuela all the time, about how she always whispers in Jose’s ear that he’s her favourite grandson, that he’s going to be a star when he grows up. About how her hugs feel the softest.

Oh no

I’m sorry Jose

He wishes he could teleport to wherever Jose is now, hug him in real life, because he feels useless right now, so far away and unable to do anything or make anything better.

I dunno what to do

How can I help

Can you tell me a story

And so Brock does. He weaves a story about two friends who live far away but are penpals, talking all the time and it’s soft and familiar, covers him like a warm blanket. Jose draws smiley faces and hearts around the words that Brock writes, and it feels like he’s holding his hand.

Brock does the same thing a week later during Jose’s abuela’s funeral.

Brock is fifteen and has gotten into the National Ballet School, something he knows will surprise his mother and his father and his sisters when he tells them, but most of all, it surprises himself. It makes him giddy, makes him feel like maybe he’s good at something.

He writes to Jose in the bathroom after the audition, after his name has been called and he’s gotten a place at the school for the upcoming fall, because he wants to tell Jose first. He shuts himself in a stall, drawing a smiley face and then a star until Jose draws them back to him.

Hi hi hi

I DID IT

AHHH

YOU GOT IN

I TOLD YOU

YOU DID

YOU WERE SCARED

But you’re the BEST at dancing

You’ve never even seen me dance

Don’t need to

Brock smiles to himself, tracing over Jose’s words with his finger. He pauses, realizing something.

I’m going to have to wear short sleeves when I start ballet school

Because of the uniform for dance

Brock pauses, because he doesn’t want Jose to think that this means that he wants them to stop talking, and he’s about to write more when-

Look at your chest

Brock wrinkles his nose before writing back.

What?

Just do it

So he does, pulling his shirt up because he’s still in the stall and he gasps, because Jose’s starting to write along his ribs all delicate and he can see goosebumps rising up on his skin beside them.

This better? More sneaky

Brock’s not sure that he’s imagining the shiver that runs down his spine as the words appear, because this feels different from the writing on his arm. He feels more exposed even though he knows that Jose can’t see him, that Jose’s just looking down at his own chest and writing on himself.

He wonders, for a second, what Jose looks like right now, before pushing the thought from his head, away to the corner of his brain where he pushes most thoughts like that these days.

Yeah. Better. For school.

The Sharpie tickles on his ribs as he writes and it feels so novel, so new, as if they haven’t been doing this for years and years and years already.

Jose always manages to surprise him somehow.

Brock doesn’t start at ballet school for a few more months, but Jose keeps writing to him on his chest, along his ribs, above his hip bone, and it makes him shiver every time. Like it’s his secret, his secret that he shares with Jose and no one else, and he wonders if first kisses feel like this, enough to make his head want to spin.

He doesn’t even know what Jose looks like, where Jose lives. He knows that Jose is two years younger than him and also likes science and dance like him but really likes soccer, which Brock doesn’t. He knows that Jose loves his mom more than anyone in the world, and that his brother is older than him and that he doesn’t have sisters like Brock, but he wishes he that he did.

He wants to know more. He wants to see how Jose laughs in person, if he’s as loud like Brock expects him to be, from the way he loves to write in big capital letters when he’s excited.

Jose writes to him one evening, their customary smiley face scribbled on his hand, and Brock shovels his dinner so that he can go write back.

I kissed someone today

The words are etched onto Brock’s shoulder in black ink, bleeding into his skin and Brock draws in a breath, not quite sure why his heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his chest.

Because it doesn’t matter, right? Just because they’re soulmates doesn’t have to mean-

It was a girl

It was weird

Brock’s never mentioned that he likes boys because he hasn’t wanted to ask Jose himself, but he’d thought that if his soulmate was another boy that it would mean-

But it doesn’t matter. Soulmates don’t always get together, in the end.

It’s not like Brock has been thinking about it, letting himself hope that one day, one day, he’ll find Jose in real life and they don’t have to write to each other anymore and that things will suddenly be perfect.

But that’s not how things work.

So it’s okay, really, because Jose can kiss girls if he wants to.

Brock realizes that he hasn’t written back and so he pulls his Sharpie out from his bedside table, scrawls with shaky hands.

Okay

What else can he say, really?

For the first time he wants to scrub Jose’s words off of his body, wishing that he didn’t have to see them anymore because Jose kissed someone else and why is it making him feel upset for no reason?

He pulls on a sweater on top of his t-shirt so that he doesn’t have to look at his shoulder anymore, doesn’t have to see what Jose responds with.

Brock is getting out of the shower the week when he sees Jose’s writing on his side in the mirror.

He’s been trying not to look, trying to give himself some space because thinking about Jose is making his heart flip in his chest and he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel even more out of control than he already is.

But the words that show up now make him pause.

Brock

I think I like boys

Brock looks down, trying to crane his neck to see if it really says what he thinks it’s says and it draws all the air out of his lungs when he realizes that it does.

His Sharpie is on his desk, as always, the ink blurring slightly on his wet skin.

You do?

I don’t like kissing girls that much

I don’t wanna kiss them

So why did you?

It was spin the bottle, everyone did

And then that girl tried to kiss me again later and I was like ew

Brock cracks up, despite himself. He doesn’t even know what Jose looks like but he can picture a look of disgust that mirrors his words easily.

How do you know you like boys?

Brock’s heart is beating faster and faster, and he’s not sure how long it can go on for before it gives out, trying to pump oxygen when he feels so out of breath.

Because I wanna kiss boys

The next words that appear on Brock’s skin make him gasp.

I wanna kiss you

He’s frozen, his towel around his waist and his skin is starting to dry off from the shower and Jose wants to kiss him.

Brock?

Sorry I shouldn’t have said that

Brock scrambles to write back because Jose needs to know-

I want to kiss you too

It’s true, when Brock thinks about it, so true because he’s never even met Jose in real life but he feels like he knows him better than anyone else in the world, because Jose is his best friend and he really really is-

His soulmate.

Jose draws a heart below his ribs and Brock wonders what it’s like to fall in love.

Brock is eating breakfast at the kitchen table when he’s seventeen and his mother turns to him. He can see they way she’s peeking down at his arms, even while trying to be discreet.

Jose only writes to him on his shoulders and chest when he’s at home now, just in case. Brock didn’t have to explain himself, because Jose got it without him having to.

“Brock.”

He doesn’t want to look up, because he can’t tell anything from his mother’s tone of voice. He’s not sure if he really wants to know.

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

So he does, reluctantly looking up from his cereal and his mother looks tired, worn down.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Words bubble up in his chest but he can’t say them, he can’t make things worse and he knows that his mom probably knows and wants him to say it too, but he can’t-

“No, there isn’t.”

“Brock, your soulmate-”

He escapes from the table and goes up to his room (‘gotta go, I have homework’) as his mom sighs, and he realizes as he climbs the stairs and passes their old family pictures on the walk that his dad hasn’t been home in awhile.

He doodles a small smiley face on his wrist, enough for Jose to notice, then continues above his hip bone.

Does your mom know?

Know what?

You know

He doesn’t want to say it, because he hasn’t even said the words to himself, and if he does then it means that it’s all real and that his mom will hate him and-

She knew since I was a kid and kept stealing her dresses and makeup

Brock laughs a little, trying to picture a five year old strutting around in his mother’s heels.

Me too, I did that too

And she doesn’t know??

I think she does

She asked me if I had anything to tell her

Today

Yikes

You think she’ll be mad?

Yeah

I don’t want to tell her

No one says you have to

If you don’t wanna right now

Okay

If you end up doing so, I’ll be here to cheer you on

Jose draws a stick figure that’s grinning above his belly button and Brock can’t help but feel just a little bit lighter.

Brock is eighteen and drunk at a party and kisses his friend Kyle and all he can think about is Jose.

He doodles on his thigh when he gets back to his room, after his friends drop him off and he flops onto his bed and thinks about what Jose’s lips would taste like.

It’s like 3 am

I’m trying to sleep

Brock squints as he fumbles with the Sharpie, trying to write clearly.

I wanna kiss you

I missssss you

He draws little stars all over his leg while he waits for Jose to write back.

You’ve never met me

But I wannaaaaaa

Why do you live in Alska

Alaksa

Alaska

Brock tilts his head. He can never tell if things are quite spelled right when he’s drunk.

That’s a weird way to spell Florida

So you don’t live with polar bears :(

Definitely not

We have gators, though

No that’s scary

How drunk are you

Soooooooooooooooo drnk

I want a polar bear

You should sleep

Wanna cuddle with you

Jose doesn’t respond and Brock’s drunk brain pauses for a second, wondering if he’s said too much but what does it even matter, when Jose’s his soulmate and he love love loves him, even if he doesn’t have a polar bear?

Maybe we can do that. In the future

YES

Drunk you is bananas

You better not wash these off I want you to see this when you’re sober

Sober Brock can eat it

Let’s see what you say about that tomorrow

A thought comes to Brock’s mind, one that sober him has been pushing down, down, down, because it’s felt too much to ask, too personal, but fuck it, he’s gonna do it because why the heck not?

I wanna see you

Your face

I wanna see

It’s kept him up at night, distracted him during dance class. Wondering what Jose is like, what he looks like, and Brock isn’t shallow, per se, he’s just curious. Curious as to what his other half looks like.

Bold

Pleaseeeeee

There’s a pause, and then-

Write down your phone number

Brock does so, breathlessly, waiting for his cellphone to buzz as he flips it over in his hands, when a picture pops up from an unknown number.

Jose is the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. He has a backwards cap on and he’s raising his eyebrows at the camera with a facial expression that’s saying really?

Brock grabs his pen to reply but keeps his phone in his hand, open on the picture because wow Jose is perfect and he can’t stop staring.

Wow

You never told me you were HOT

Omg

Sure, sober Brock is going to hate him but Brock can’t help it, who cares about inhibitions or self control when his soulmate is absolutely perfect? His dimples and his jawline and his eyebrows and Brock gets how easy it is to fawn over someone, because he’s head over heels for Jose.

Now send me a picture of you

Let’s make it even

Brock fumbles with his phone and grins into the camera and it’s probably blurry and he’s a bit stubbly because he didn’t shave today and he’s still in his clothes from the party and looks like a mess, but he sends it anyway.

A minute ticks by, then another, and Brock’s wondering if he’s made a grave mistake, maybe Jose’s changed his mind-

You never told me you were hot, either

Dork

Brock wakes up with a massive headache and a dry mouth. His thighs are covered in his own scribbles and he groans, because it’s almost 11 a.m. but he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

He grabs his phone, opens his texts and freezes when he sees an unknown number, a picture of himself and then-

Jose.

It all comes rushing back to him, flooding his memories and oh god he had texted Jose.

He writes on his stomach because it feels like the most right thing to do.

Oh god I’m sorry I’m sorry

I shouldn’t have done that

Shouldn’t have made you send a pic

I’m sorry

Please don’t hate me

Brock feels like he’s going to cry, because shit shit shit, he’s probably gone and ruined everything between them and he’s never, ever going to drink again.

It’s okay

Wanted to see your face for awhile anyway

You did?

Tell me you weren’t curious too

I clearly was

My drunk self took over and did that

I’m glad it did because I was too scared to

Me too

Brock lets out a breath. Maybe Jose isn’t mad at him, and things aren’t falling apart just yet, and they’ll be okay.

Now I can imagine your cute ass face when we write

Brock lights up, because Jose actually thinks he’s cute. Jose’s seen a picture of him, and instead of being uninterested, Jose thinks he’s cute.

You’re cute

Real cute

He wishes he could say more without sounding too pushy, too forward, too expectant. He wants to tell Jose that his eyes are brighter than the stars and the photo he sent is still making him smile, even now. He only as of last night knows what Jose looks like, but he feels like he’s known his entire life.

Brock’s phone buzzes again and it’s another picture, and this time Jose’s blowing a kiss to the camera and Brock finally knows what all the movies mean when they talk about love at first sight.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #canon compliant #soulmate au #holtzmanns #gold coloured prisms of light

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