#officially the best random gift i’ve been given at work

[liyazaki]

new moisturizer of choice: shampoo flowers 🌺

[ikpopwriting]

TL;DR: I’m sending a gift to a friend (who has been repeatedly hit with darkness) that she loved and jokingly asked for in a post because she didn’t think anyone would actually buy it, and I’m doing it anonymously.

Ok so I am terrible at keeping certain secrets to myself. Tell me your deepest, darkest, shameful secret and I’ll die with it, but tell me about a gift or surprise you’re doing and it eats at me with excitement. I have to tell someone, usually my mom (which should be a given because she’s my best friend).

I’m even worse when it’s me doing the surprise or giving the gift. I just get so excited about how the person will react to it (I put a lot of thought, significance, and love into the gifts/cards/services I give). I have to tell someone (again, usually my mom. It makes it 1,000x harder when the thing is for her and I have to tell someone else or I’ll explode).

I have decided not to tell anyone who personally knows me in my life that I’ve done my latest secret gift. BUT, I’m dying to tell someone. No one on here knows me outside of Tumblr, and few people in my life even know I write fanfiction (let alone what fandom they belong to or that it’s Tumblr). A couple know I’m on Tumblr, but haven’t the slightest idea I actually post anything.

So, here’s my latest random act of…love? Kindness? Honestly giving gifts is my output love language.

A friend I met a few years ago when she started working at the bakery with me posted early last month (December) about a piece of clothing she was in love with and jokingly said “someone please buy this for me 😭😭🤣”. I tracked it down to a shopping website, and took a screenshot of the price and item name and everything for later, because after 2 years of no income I am officially broke. Well, I got a little spending money for Christmas. I bought a couple small things on New Year’s Day I need electronic-accessory wise. Then I was scrolling through my pictures for a particular one and found the screenshot of the top—and smiled.

Now, something you should know about this girl (10 years or more older than me), is that when we met she was in an abusive marriage. It had progressed past manipulation and emotional/mental abuse to physical about two years before I met her. She also has 2 sons from a previous marriage (also not a good one) who love their mother very much, and had reached that point that they were starting to interfere a little with the abuse. One of the first times she opened up to me in regards to this was when she had started to fear that her husband would start hurting her boys, but felt she was stuck. She didn’t make enough, she felt, to support them well enough on her own.

Over the course of the next 6 months, I repeatedly told her that she deserved better, that both she and her boys were in a toxic, unsafe environment. I prayed for and with her, and made sure to always be encouraging and show her that she was worth more than he led her to believe; that she had other people in her corner who were ready and willing to help her and her boys. I had a card in my wallet from way before at school for an organization that helped women in those situations, and had always wondered why I kept it. I gave it to her, which I feel was the reason I had it. She contacted them. She filed for divorce. They got her a divorce attorney. She and her boys moved in with her parents, and me and 4 others I rounded up helped her go get HER stuff from her now-ex’s place while he was under court order not to be there. He had cameras that he let slip he watched, and which rooms they were in, and as the others loaded the last thing into the truck, I said “hey ___, you’ve lost probably the best you’ve ever had, and probably will ever. Oh, and fuck you” as I flipped the room off (never knew exactly where the cams were, just that they were there). The women’s advocacy group helped set her up in an apartment complex that worked with them at a low rate (a nice apartment with more space than she had furniture to fill). They even paid for her rent and utilities while she was in divorce court. We helped her move her stuff again, and even gathered things from within our family and friend circle that was in good shape but not used/wanted anymore. She cried each time, and just kept thanking us and was worried she couldn’t repay us. I finally told her “___, you’re not going to repay us; we don’t want you to. This is what being a Christian, a child of God, is about. If anything, we want you to pay it forward one day, when you come across someone in need.”

The breaking point, when she said realized they were out of the dark, was that Christmas, when my family forwent buying things we didn’t need and instead bought her boys both wants and needs (at first she didn’t know why I was asking so much about her kids, then figured it out and cried). And for her, too. I watched this woman, who had been in 2 bad marriages and just wanted her boys taken care of, go from being timid and unsure to confident, happy, positive, and strong. She is very much the “fuck around and find out” type now that she’s herself again. She will one day be a bridesmaid at my wedding, she’s such an important part of my life now. She’s fallen on hard times again, and is fighting for custody of her kids (a family member of their father’s has legal custody and is doing a shit job and lying through their teeth in court), but she has an amazing guy and his son to keep her grounded. She says I seem to always pop up with cards or gifts or just kind words and encouragement when she needs it most. She doesn’t realize how much she helps me in turn, that she’s helped me in the struggles with my own faith the last 2 years of chronic long-COVID illness.

She’s a forever friend.

So, as I looked at the screenshot of that top she really wanted last night, I decided I was going to give a little more sunshine into her life to start the year on the positive. I ordered it, set the address to hers and put her name on it, and will be anxiously tracking it and waiting to see if she posts about it and/or figures out it was me (haven’t decided if I’ll admit it was me if she strongly suspects or not).

Everyone deserves little things to show that someone cares, that they’re not alone in the dark this world brings. That besides (or in spite of) people expected to care (who may or may not), there are people who have chosen to.

[mrsbrekkers]

How bout a kaz brekker x blind!reader? 💓

okay so i have never written blind!reader before but but but BUTTT a good idea came to me involving reader being a grisha ( healer ) who had the gift to see someone and what they truly look like if they are physically allowed to be let in? it’s hard to explain, but y a

in this, reader and kaz have known one another for a good three in a half years, they work on heists together, and reader is usually partnered with kaz, as he wants to keep her safe. i S U C K at summaries. also, i was hella distracted while writing this, but it came out somewhat okay? f u c k.

pairings! kax x blind!reader

reader in this is female, but i will adjust accordingly if you’d like me too! just let me know! :)

warnings! really distracted writing, jordie, ptsd, blood, the typical soc stuff, kaz almost having a panic attack, but also him realizing he’s safe there with reader ye. 

i could so make this a series? like going through all the times blind!reader has made kaz come to trust her more and more. haha ha unless...

word count! 2847

ONE SHOT UNDER CUT

GLOVED INTERACTIONS

There were many descriptions given to Y/N about what Kaz Brekker looked like. What color his eyes were. What color his hair was. What his build was like. She could give you an accurate description of Jesper, Inej, Nina, Matthias, even Wylan was easy. But when it came to someone she couldn’t physically map out? She became a bit lost.

Being born without her sight, Y/N had to learn other ways to understand the world. Especially in a place like Ketterdam. Maybe that was why Kaz was quick to take Y/N under his wing. To keep her safe, just as he had with Wylan. But, Y/N wasn’t useless. Being a Healer, she was valuable to the Dregs. Nina was a powerful heartrender, but could only do so much when someone was inevitably hurt during jobs. That’s where Y/N was useful.

In a sense she had her sight, but it relied on physically being able to touch someone. A side-effect of being a Grisha, with abilities that no one has seen before. Her sight may have been gone, but being able to see one in her mind, whether it be blurry or clear, gave her an idea on what one looked like.

That meant Kaz was the most mysterious person to Y/N.

Y/N could describe most of the crows relatively well. Jesper had been the first to let Y/N use her ‘gift’ as Nina called it, with him. Her hands rested on his arms, slowly moving up to his shoulders, the other crows sitting around them to watch.

“You’re Zemeni, but I knew that already. Inej described you as long limbed, she wasn’t wrong.” Inej laughed a bit, shaking her head. “Lean, no surprise, I could make that out. Your eyes are a dark grey, but beautiful. I must say Jesper, you’re rather handsome. Being a handsome decoy seems like it should be a Jesper talent.”

Jesper smiled, looking down at Y/N. “Right on, almost to the dot,” he said, giving his best friend a chuckle.

“Your smile lights up a room. But I also knew that already,” Y/N added, tilting her head as she let her hands drop from Jesper’s shoulders. The crows around them were in awe, and then Nina was moving Jesper out of the way.

“Move handsome decoy, my turn,” She said, humming a bit as she sat in front of Y/N, making the Healer laugh. As she had with Jesper, Y/N ran her hands up Nina’s arms, stopping at her shoulders.

“Hmm, long curly brown hair, your heart beats a bit differently than the rest of our friends. Courtesy of being Grisha, and a Heartrender. You’re also a bit curvier than our friends, but as am I.” Nina smiled, glancing at their friends, who all seemed confused on how Y/N managed to do this.

“Green eyes, piercing almost. As always, like the rest of our friends, your smile lights up the room. But instead of Jesper’s toothy smile, you’re a closed mouth smiler, unless talking to Matthias of course,” Y/N smirked a bit, feeling Nina’s body heat up told her that the Heartrender was indeed, blushing.

Then slowly, all of the crows sat in front of Y/N. Except for Kaz, which Y/N understood. She didn’t pry, but she did begin to wonder what he truly looked like. There were so many conflicting descriptions. Obviously the ones given from people who didn’t like him weren’t taken into account, because most of them consisted of calling Kaz ‘The Grinch’. And while this was probably a good term for his lovely personality, it didn’t seem like it’d match his looks. Kaz wasn’t green after all.

But after a particularly rough job, one that ended with almost everyone scuffed up in some way, shape, or form, Y/N was working herself to the bone. Inej had the worst of it, so Y/N worked on her first at the Slat, and upon finishing, she had Nina sit next to the sleeping Wraith. She stood, huffing as she climbed the stairs to Kaz’s room. He was always the least willing to be healed. He always claimed he was the least beat up, or he could handle it himself.

This time, Y/N knew he wasn’t the least beat up. She’d heard about the gash running up his arm, and the scratches lining his face, which were less than pretty. Entering the room, she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” Kaz spoke first, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“I’ve heard plenty from Jesper about how nasty the gash on your arm is, and how your leg has been worse than usual. I can’t heal a bone that’s healed incorrectly, but I can ease the pain,” Y/N stated, moving to stand in front of the desk. Why was Kaz so damned stubborn about things like this? It concerned the Healer. Did he find himself so unlovable that he believed he deserved the pain when he was hurt?

“How are you going to count your Kruge if your arm is cut wide open?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. That made Kaz sigh. She wasn’t wrong about that. It also meant problems during other aspects of his job.

“Fine,” Kaz said reluctantly. He watched Y/N round the table, his eyes mainly on her fingers that softly glided the desk, letting her know when to turn. He’d always found it fascinating how she managed so much without her sight. Mainly how she found her ways around. The way her fingers would move so smoothly across surfaces. Or how graceful she seemed. It was hard to fascinate Kaz Brekker, but she did it effortlessly.

“I won’t touch you, but I’m going to need to be guided to where the gash is,” Y/N spoke, now standing in front of Kaz, who gulped with a shaky nod. He trusted her. He trusted all of his Crows, but her the most. She’d been there when the Crows were down bad. She brought smiles to the team without fail. Kaz could remember the first time they’d met, when his fascianation had started.

The night had been cold, dark. As Ketterdam usually was. After a few months of Kaz having Inej watch over the Healer that lived near the university district, Inej had come to Kaz with news that the Healer, Y/N, had noticed her. It had rendered the Bastard of the Barrel speechless. Someone had noticed Inej Ghafa?

“How did she notice you? Nobody notices you. Even I didn't for the first time, and I notice everyone,” Kaz stated, his tone confused.

“I believe our Healer is blind. It would make sense then, all of her other senses would be on high alert, especially her hearing. Even the most silent aren’t silent to the blind. They notice everything, Kaz. I’m surprised she didn’t notice me earlier,” Inej said, her arms crossed as she leaned in the doorway between the bedroom and the small office.

Kaz stalled for a moment, humming in consideration. It would explain how Inej had been found out. What that didn’t answer was whether Y/N knew who they were. He doubted it, but you could never be sure in Ketterdam.

“Did she know who you were?”

“I’m not sure, I left before things escalated. She said she knew I was there and to reveal who I was and who I worked for. So she knows I’m not some random in Ketterdam. I’m sure she could figure out enough if I’d appeared before her,” Inej said before looking back at the window. She knew she wasn’t followed, she always checked for such. But with the revelation that someone, for once, had noticed her, it wasn’t unlikely that maybe she’d been followed.

Kaz huffed, realizing he’d have to now go and explain to this Healer about how he’d been watching over her for the past few months. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been doing so. Well, he did, she’d be a good asset to have later if he ever decided to actually let it be known that he’d been keeping her safe. It was time that’d present a new reason.

Arriving at the small apartment that the Healer lived in, Kaz knocked Inej behind him, and when the door opened, his dark eyes landed on Y/N.

“I was waiting for you guys to show up,” Y/N said, turning and allowing the two inside.

“You knew we’d come?” Inej asked, entering the small apartment and sitting where Y/N offered, taking the small cup of tea she was handed. For being stalked for the past few months, the Healer was being rather kind.

“I suspected it was The Wraith watching over me for some time. I have learned to feel different presence’ around me. Yours, while I didn’t notice it at first, I began to when one of my papers went missing and was replaced with a forged one,” Y/N said, sitting next to Inej.

“How did you know it was forged?” Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that Y/N could see that, but his tone, his voice did the accenting for him.

“Kaz Brekker I presume. The handwriting wasn’t my own. I don’t have terrible handwriting, I’ve practiced for years after all, but my handwriting is not that nice. And the paper wasn’t the kind of paper I used. It was a close second, yes, but the letters weren’t able to be felt. That’s when I realized it was forged. It was a good forgery, but I’ve lived in Ketterdam long enough.” That’s when Kaz’s fascination started.

Or maybe it was when Inej had announced someone had noticed her. Nonetheless, that was the day he decided to recruit Y/N officially. It wasn’t hard either, considering she was rather willing too as long as she wasn’t indentured to the Dregs.

“I won’t go with if I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life,” Y/N stated, sipping her tea. Oh, and she had to bring her cat. Jesper now called the cat the Crows mascot. Which, the other’s had found weird. It was a cat, not a Crow, but they had changed the name of the cat to Crow. Which made the rest of the gang agree on it. Even Kaz found the cat enjoyable.

That was three years ago.

Since then, Y/N hadn’t let Kaz down once. He’d grown to trust her as he did Inej, even more so as she became his shadow. The person in his corner, his partner. He trusted his shadow.

Sighing, Kaz shook his head, looking over at Y/N and glancing down to her hands. “Left arm, right above my elbow,” he said, watching her fingers flex before moving to hover over the gash that covered a good part of Kaz’s upper arm.

“You know, I still don’t know what you look like,” Y/N said as she healed to gash slowly, making sure the work was intricate and done correctly.

“Brooding, dark, nothing else really to me,” Kaz said, but Y/N shook her head, finishing the gash and humming a bit. She moved her hand slowly up to Kaz’s face, doing a quick brush over to heal the small gashes there. Kaz felt them heal, his labored breath steadying as she moved her hand away from his face.

“I don’t believe that. If there was nothing more to you, I wouldn’t be staying around, Kaz,” Y/N said, bending down, but she felt a gloved hand grip her wrist, surprising her and causing her to jump a bit.

“I can handle that pain, I have for years,” Kaz stated, watching Y/N nod, and while she couldn’t see his hand, her eyes were still on the wrist that was enclosed by Kaz’s gloved hand.

“I may have an idea. A way for me to know what you truly look like,” Y/N said, a smile rising to her lips.

Kaz was almost frightened to ask. No, he was frightened. He knew what that would entail. But he knew what she looked like and she had so many conflicting ideas about what he looked like. He also knew that Y/N wouldn’t cross his boundaries unless he gave explicit permission. He could say no to this and she’d agree and leave with a smile, some words of encouragement to sleep and rest, and later have Inej or Jesper bring up food for him. But sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at Y/N, determining that he trusted her enough for this. She’d never hurt you. 

“Okay, tell me the idea,” Kaz said slowly, his words wavering.

“You can back out at any time, Kaz. If you don’t want to do this, you let me know immediately,” Y/N stated, and Kaz let out a small cough. 

He closed his eyes, nodding to himself before giving an audible, “I know.”

“Your gloves, their the barrier that helps ensure you don’t come into contact with skin. What if I wear a pair, they don’t have to be yours, but a pair of gloves and use them to learn what you look like?”

Kaz tilted his head. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It actually made a lot of sense. He used the gloves as a barrier, as Y/N had said. If she did the same, it would be the same as he had just done with her wrist. He wouldn’t feel Jordie. He wouldn’t feel Reaper’s Barge. At least, that’s what he hoped for. But he’d be willing to try for Y/N. He’d try for her.

“We . . . can try that, but use my gloves. I’m used to the feeling of them. I have another pair in the nightstand by my bed,” Kaz said, watching Y/N smile a bit before moving to grab the gloves in the nightstand. He watched her slide them onto her fingers, seeing they were just a bit big on her, he chuckled quietly.

Y/N let her fingers glide against the desk once more, pulling the chair from the other side of the desk right in front of Kaz. She could hear his uneven breathing as she sat too. “You guide me, just like before,” Y/N said, letting Kaz have control of the situation. 

Slowly, Kaz lifted his hand, taking Y/N’s gloved one into his own. Stalling for a moment he shut his eyes tightly, and for a moment the flashes came to him, but he sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes and seeing Y/N in front of him, alive, breathing.

He lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders, watching her hum as the vision of him began to form within her mind. He watched a smile come to her lips. She would never know how beautiful that smile was. How beautiful it was to him. How he hoped it wasn’t washed away like his was because of the Barrel.

“Hmm, Dark hair, trimmed at the edges. Inej teased you for it one day, I remember that. You have a sharper face than most of our friends, and a lean build, but more muscular than Jesper is.” Y/N tilted her head, the image in her head finally fully forming.

“Dark eyes, like bitter coffee. Two tattoos. I didn’t know that. I must say, but don’t Jesper this, you’re far more handsome than he is. Maybe you should start being the handsome decoy.” Kaz chuckled at that, and for a few moments he wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t fearful. He wasn’t breathing heavily. He was happy, even if just for those few moments. Happy because of her.

Y/N dropped her hands, pulling off the leather gloves and placing them on the desk. “Certainly not the grinch as some put it,” she added, standing.

“Pretty close to that,” Kaz said, watching her stand.

“Maybe personality wise, but certainly not look wise.”

“Who calls me the Grinch?” 

“Jesper,” Y/N laughed. She remembered hearing Jesper reference Kaz as the grinch at one point. It was where the nickname had probably originated from for others to call the Bastard of the Barrel, and slowly it became known. The room became quiet for some time, and Y/N was the first to break it.

“Thank you . . . for letting me do that, I know it wasn’t easy. The tattoos, what are they of?” Y/N asked then, tilting her head. Kaz took a deep breath in, looking over at the window across by his bed. The one he rarely ever used.

“The Dregs Crow, and an R,” he didn’t elaborate, leaving Y/N to know that was as much as he’d say. She knew what the Crow was for, but she had a feeling she shouldn’t ask much more than that.

“Well, do get some rest. I can’t heal sleep exhaustion, sadly,” Y/N said, laughing a bit. She didn’t see it, but a smile spread on Kaz’s lips.

[dickwheelie]

a jonmartin ficlet for @tmafantasyweek, not for any particular prompt, just an idea that struck my fancy.

this was inspired very loosely by @gras-art’s lovely drawings of martin with stars. it’s not the kind of thing I usually write but I had a lot of fun with it so I hope y’all enjoy :)

______________

There was once a man whose job it was to hang the stars in the night sky. If you asked him, he would tell you that he didn’t believe himself to be very good at it, but it was all that he knew.

There was once another man whose job it was to map the constellations. Though it was a simple enough task, for the constellations never changed, the man prided himself on his impeccable work.

One night, the mapmaker awoke to find that the constellations were different from the night before. Irritated and confused, he stomped up to the moon and demanded to speak to the one in charge of the stars.

The starhanger was called, and soon he emerged timidly from his tiny workshop to confront the bristling mapmaker.

“What is the meaning of this?” the mapmaker said, gesturing up at the night sky, where the stars had once been so nicely aligned into neat little columns and rows, but were now scattered, seemingly at random, across the sky. “It’s a mess!”

“Well,” said the starhanger, gathering his courage, “I had thought perhaps it was time for a change. The stars have always been placed just so. But last night, I thought it might be nice to hang them differently.” He looked sidelong at the mapmaker. “You don’t like it?”

“Of course I don’t like it!” said the mapmaker. “You can’t just go around changing the constellations whenever you like. It’s chaos, and in my line of work, chaos is precisely what we are trying to avoid.”

“But doesn’t it get a bit dull, sometimes?” pressed the starhanger. “Mapping the same constellations every night? Look,” he said, pointing at the northwestern part of the sky, “last night I hung those stars in the shape of a dog. Have you ever had the chance to map a dog before?”

The mapmaker was silent. At length, he said, “Well . . . I suppose not . . .”

“It would be a challenge,” said the starhanger.

“I do like a challenge,” said the mapmaker. “The maps are always the same, night after night. It does wear at the skin a bit.”

“Well, that settles it,” said the starhanger, happily retreating back into his workshop. “I’ll keep changing the constellations, and you’ll get to make a brand new map every night.”

Before the mapmaker could say another word, the starhanger had swung the door of his workshop shut, and he was left alone under the suddenly unfamiliar tableau of the night sky.

The following night, the mapmaker awoke to find that once again, the night sky had changed. The dog the starhanger had pointed out was gone, and in its place was a teapot, surrounded by teacups and saucers. Despite himself, the mapmaker found himself eagerly laying out a brand new scroll and setting to work.

By the time the first rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon, the mapmaker had completed his map, and for the first time in a long, long while, went to bed utterly satisfied.

The following few nights were just the same. Every night, the starhanger would hang the stars in unexpected places, and make pictures when the fancy struck him. The teapot became a sailboat, which became a book, which became a cow. The mapmaker found himself waking up each night eagerly anticipating what new thing the starhanger had made, and setting about mapping it with gusto.

One night, the starhanger hung the stars in the shape of a cat. The following morning he was surprised by a knocking at his workshop door. When he peeked out, the mapmaker stood before him, in a much more enthused manner than last time, and said to him, “Cats are my favorite animals.”

“Are they?”

“Yes! I just wanted to thank you for making one. It was wonderful to map.”

The starhanger blinked owlishly at him. “You . . . came up to the moon just to tell me that?”

“Yes,” said the mapmaker, suddenly very self-conscious. “And to tell you . . . you were right. Making a new map every night, it’s been invigorating. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed my job so much.”

“Oh,” said the starhanger, smiling shyly, “well, that’s very good to hear.”

“You won’t stop, will you?” said the mapmaker anxiously.

The starhanger bit back a wide smile. “No, I won’t.”

And indeed he did not. The starhanger, up until then, had been hesitantly experimenting, but now he decided to roll up his sleeves and give the mapmaker a real challenge.

The following night the mapmaker awoke and immediately dove for his workstation when he saw that the sky was patterned with stars in the shape of a massive spiderweb. From horizon to horizon, there was hardly a gap between the threads, and the mapmaker had to work tirelessly to map them all. At the end of the night he collapsed in his chair, utterly exhausted and happier than he had been in years.

The following few nights, the starhanger left off a bit, hanging less intricate but no less beautiful designs. One night the sky was full of swirls and eddies, as one would find in the ocean or perhaps the clouds on a windy day. Another time the starhanger gifted the mapmaker with more cats, slinking and winding their way across the sky.

Indeed, it had grown to be much like gift-giving. The starhanger was no longer thinking of his own satisfaction when he hung the stars, and similarly the mapmaker was no longer thinking of his impeccable record when he mapped them. Instead, they were both thinking of the other.

Then one night, for the first time, the mapmaker was surprised by something new in the night sky: words, spelled out in neat script. The first message, for there would be others, was brief and self-explanatory: Hello MM!

“Hello, Starhanger,” the mapmaker murmured back, as he rolled out a new scroll.

The messages quickly grew more elaborate as the starhanger grew used to writing with the stars.

Lovely night we’re having!

How was your morning?

I’m getting much better at drawing cats, look:

It’s cold on the moon. I hope it isn’t too cold where you are, MM.

Though everyone on earth puzzled over these messages, the mapmaker of course knew they were meant for him. He mapped the messages carefully and reverently, and spent all night imagining how he would reply to them.

One night, the sky read, I’d love to see one of your maps sometime.

The mapmaker wasted no time in taking a trip up to the moon, and showing the starhanger some of the maps he was most proud of.

“This is the one with all the cats,” said the mapmaker. “I really enjoyed making that one.”

“It’s lovely,” said the starhanger, and he meant it. “They all are.”

“You can keep them, if you want,” said the mapmaker.

“All of them?”

“You’ll appreciate them more than I do, I’m sure,” said the mapmaker. He glanced downwards. “And you’ve given me such beautiful things to look at every night. It only makes sense that you should keep the maps I make of them.”

“Oh,” said the starhanger, “thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” said the mapmaker. “The past few months have been the happiest I’ve ever spent.”

“Really?” said the starhanger, warmth blooming in his chest. “Mine, too.”

The following night the sky blazed with hundreds of stars, clustered together to form the shape of a heart. The mapmaker hung that night’s map on the wall of his studio, and traced it with his finger often.

It was around that time that the mapmaker decided to do something utterly unorthodox and possibly terribly foolish, which would likely end in disaster: he decided to make his own map. A map not of the night sky, or of the stars therein, but from the mapmaker’s own imagination. A map without a guide. It was ludicrous, the mapmaker thought, but it was the only way he could think to show the starhanger what he wished to show him.

It took many weeks, as the mapmaker used his few spare hours of nighttime to work on his own map, careful not to let his official work drop in quality. It was not easy for him to map stars that were not really there, and many times he considered giving up, but then he reminded himself how beautiful the starhanger’s constellations were, and how hard he worked on them.

“If he can do that every night,” the mapmaker chided himself, “you can do this just this once.”

Finally, more than a month after he had begun his task, the mapmaker sat back and stared at the map he had invented, and found that he was satisfied. Eagerly, impatiently, he made his way back up to the moon, and knocked at the starhanger’s workshop door.

The starhanger’s face was like a star all on its own with how brightly he greeted him. “What brings you up here, unannounced?” he asked.

The mapmaker, who was holding the map behind his back, unrolled it with a flair and presented it to the starhanger. “This is for you,” he said.

The starhanger took it carefully. It was a map of the stars, yes, but not based on anything the starhanger had made. It was something new, with imaginary stars scrawled across an imaginary sky.

“I made it for you,” said the mapmaker, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I didn’t know how else to explain.”

The stars on the map formed the shape of a heart, to match the one the starhanger had made for the mapmaker (though this one was a bit more wobbly). Inside the heart, the starhanger could make out many different constellations he had gifted the mapmaker, the dog and the cat and the sailboat, among others. And in the very center of the heart, in wobbly, uncertain script, the stars spelled out, Thank you, Starhanger.

A tear formed at the corner of the starhanger’s eye. “Oh, Mapmaker,” he said, and could think of no more words.

“Do you like it?” the mapmaker asked, wringing his hands.

“Of course I like it,” the starhanger laughed, wiping at his eye. “I love it. It’s your best work, by far, I think.”

“Oh,” said the mapmaker, visibly relaxing. “Well, that’s good then.” And he pulled the starhanger into a hug.

The following night, the mapmaker awoke, looked up at the night sky, laughed, and blushed all the way to his ears. Up in the sky was a single, simple message, of only three words, and though the mapmaker had no trouble mapping it out, he lingered on the constellation long after dawn.

[jiskblr]

Blauprinz and his crew

My blood parents I never knew. Berliners, probably, but they left me in an anarchist-affiliated charity orphanage in Potsdam before I was six months old, so all I know for sure is that they named me Artur. I was adopted fairly late as these things go, about five, by the people who I consider my parents: Jurgen and Verena Carolingt. They could have had blood children, but chose to adopt, and frequently. When I was twelve I had five foster-sibs, but they slowed down after that; I only have two more sibs from the next decade, and they were adopted as the eldest four of us moved out. That's not counting Leo, who was their second fosterling; he was a real hellraiser and chafed at the academic's morality they tried to enforce, so he ran away to join a street gang. I got back in touch with him years later; for all that he left, he was as angry as me about - but that's getting ahead of myself.

My parents were academics, professors at Viadrina Universitat in Frankfurt-Oder, but in their more subtle way raised hell just as much as Leo. They grew up during the first partition, Da in East Germany and Ma in West Berlin, and they both hated the idea of hiding what they believed to cater to the powerful. They didn't budge in their convictions that everyone deserved a chance or that their conclusions deserved to be followed to their end. They believed in equality and metahuman rights, even when that was fairly unpopular, and they lived it. I'm a norm as were they, but my sibs are an even split of norms and orks plus one dwarf. They didn't adopt elves, who got snapped up more easily by more prejudiced parents, nor trolls, who posed logistical hurdles they didn't think they could deal with. (They felt bad about leaving out trolls, though, and donated generously to several charities for them. I do too, now, in their memory.) They budged just as little in their research, not even to stay quiet about it. When their research topics - applied sociology and economics of magic, for Da and Ma, respectively - developed from postulates to specific, inconvenient predictions and prescriptions for the practical world which got the corps to lean on their deans to quiet them down or kick them out, even so they stuck to their guns.

That pressure started to build around when I turned 18, and got worse as I went through my degree. When it all went to hell, I was a post-doc in applied modern theology - university-speak for 'shaman-ology' - and Zanne was a thesis candidate in high-energy experimental thaumics - studying when magic goes 'boom'. Gabi had given academia a serious try but it wasn't for her, so she'd become a net security wageslave in Potsdam - though honestly she'd be happier as a SINless decker. Fritz and Deb were undergrads at Viadrina, and Jost, Lotte, and Sascha were still young and at home. I don't understand what exactly was enraging the powers that be about their research; I think Mother had published something demonstrating that the publicly-known processes for producing refined orichalcite should produce a far lower market price, indicating that there was a covert cartel, and Father had models indicating that parts of the Eurowars didn't fit naturally with the known social dynamics pre-bellum, indicating deliberate provocation by some powerful force. True or not, either might have been the provocation. There had been escalating threats, but I wasn't living there, so I didn't hear about that; later, when I researched the background, I learned there’d been a fire started in the garage, broken windows, a chemical warfare agent left hissing in Dad's office after hours. But the first I heard of it was when I was back home, a week in late April, for Easter and Mother's birthday.

When some fucking Johnson carpet-firebombed the entire fucking house.

I don't know if they knew we'd be there. They had to know there were innocent children, there; Jost and Sascha weren't even ten yet. My parents died in the first few seconds, their corpses vaporized. Lotte was hugging Mother, so she was, too, and Fritz was just far enough away to leave dental records. Jost was less lucky; he roasted, but not quickly, and survived three hours before he died in agony. Deb lost a leg and an eye and as far as I know the pain's never stopped. Sascha was in the other room and got out, with severe scarring but none disabling. Zanne as well. Gabi wasn't there; the bosses wouldn't give her time off, and I'm not sure if that was a mercy or a curse. I was next to Father, and as far as the records know, I flash-fried like Lotte. But I'm a shaman of the Dragonslayer, and the fire washed over me. I tried to shield Dad with my body, but my totem isn't a protector; it preserved me, and much better than it would most of its shamans, but that didn't extend to him. I tried to help Jost when I realized he'd lived, but he told me to run and get revenge. I didn't realized Zanne or Sascha made it until much later; Zanne had hit her head and went unconscious quickly, and Sascha's response to pain always was to freeze up. But I kept it together enough to get to the basement, and there was ductwork Zanne had discovered years earlier and shown me, which connected it to three doors down. She'd also shown me the nearest part of the Berlin Underground - we snuck out through that ductwork - which had an ork gang she'd run with sometimes, so I thanked her memory about a hundred times that night. The gang leader by then, Ratbite, turned out to be one of the toughs she'd run with, and recognized me. I wasn't shy about using her memory to get a favor, and traded my shamanic skills - and some medical assistance - to get help going completely dark, wiping me from the databases so I could go truly SINless. He was pretty pissed when he found out she wasn't dead, but by then the favor was spent, and when she went dark as well she did him a couple favors and he mostly forgave me and accepted my excuse that I'd thought I was telling him the truth.

The official story was that the firebombs were thrown by a human-supremacist policlub, Nationale Aktion I believe, who objected to our outspokenly mixed-race family. This was bullshit, but plausible enough bullshit that the department heads and local politicians could easily pretend to believe it and be seen to Do Something in response, without that Something doing anything to harm corporate interests. Sascha I think believes that story, or prefers to act like he does. Deb, Gabi, and Zanne, though, didn't. And Zanne was good at causing explosions, but terrible at keeping her temper in check. She retaliated, with prejudice. Headline-making prejudice, which is how I and my temporary friend Ratbite learned she was alive. She had a big bounty for a couple years, but some anarchists gave her shelter before the corps reacted, and from there she became a runner as well. She didn't know I'd survived, though she did suspect, so I found her first, and joined the crew she ran with at the time. After that one came apart, the two of us have assembled all our future crews together. Well, mostly me, I'm the Face, but she still has better ties in anarchist and goblinoid circles; there's a lot of orks and trolls who won't trust a smoothskin, even one like me with an established rep.

Our vengeance is still a work in progress. The men who carried out the hit were deniable contractors, corp security from a minor place. They went down in an op our second year running, and the company got enough blowback from that job that it folded a year later. Finding out who gave the order is not quite done, but we've narrowed the field. I've got a solid network, and, well, my surviving siblings aren't any happier about it than me. Sascha pushed back when Zanne tried to contact him; I think he wants to put it behind him. Deb's a professor herself now, but she hasn't given up on justice, and Gabi-. She works for the corps, and counter to the ork stereotype is a very cold person in most ways; rationally, I know that gave me reasonable cause to doubt her. But after we finally made contact, we found her heart was cold, but a cold-burning hatred. A grudge aged like wine, but still so raw and deep that it feels unthinkable she could have made any other choice. Even the idea that she might have sided with her bosses over her family feels completely embarrassing to have considered. And Leo, like I said earlier, was almost as mad; he left home, but he still loved them for giving him a home to run from. (I hadn't realized, but he sent them gifts every Christmas, mostly hand-made, from the first year he'd left right through their deaths - he didn't learn about their deaths until he tried to deliver their gifts that year.) He's a complete ork stereotype, though, his anger is intense and searing. He'll let it go for months and then find something that reminds him again and smash up some corp's office, mostly at random. I try to give him more productive outlets when I can, but he refuses to go professional runner so he's probably going to end up landing in an early grave with his gang despite my best efforts. Not that we're really close, but I've lost too much family to let my crazy ex-brother join them.

[dmsden]

Even Better than XPs! - A D&D/RPG gift guide for 2020

Hullo, Gentle Readers! Well, this week is a 5th Monday, so I get to write a freestyle article for you all. And, with the holiday season rapidly approaching, I thought it might be fun to look at some new items that could be given to your gamer friends, or, alternately, added to your own wishlist so that your loved ones will stop complaining that you’re hard to buy for!

I will preface this by saying that I am not receiving payment or bribes from any company to plug their wares (more’s the pity). These are purely my own opinions.

So, unless you’ve been under a rock, you’ve probably heard about Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. It’s a new D&D book that’s a huge rules expansion to 5E, and it literally has something for everyone in it. If you’re a DM, it has lots of new magic-items, as well as a whole section just for you on things like Session Zero, Puzzles, Environmental Hazards, and more. If you’re a player who’s about to start a new character, there’s tons of new subclasses, as well as the new base class of the Artificer. If you’re a player with an existing character, there are alternate class features, new spells, rules for things like sidekicks, and more. This book was a blast to read, it’s chock full of great art, and it made me excited to explore some of these options in my own games. This is my top pick for anyone who doesn’t have it yet.

If you have a D&D player in your life who also likes to cook, I’ve got to recommend Heroes Feast, the official D&D cookbook. If you follow my blog, you’ve likely already seen my photos of the food I’ve been cooking from it. Every recipe has gotten a thumbs up from me and my household, and I can’t wait to make more. It’s also got beautiful photos, interesting lore, and a section on libations both alcoholic and not. I can’t wait to do more cooking from this book, and it would make an excellent gift.

You’re trying to encourage someone to work on the campaign world they’ve been talking abotu developing for years. Well, you could offer a subtle hint by giving them the Worldbuilder’s Journal of Legendary Adventures. This handsome journal has a full year’s worth (365, yup) of writing prompts to get you to think about worlds, characters, and more. Or if you want to give something a bit more freestyle, there’s The Book of Holding, a 144 page hardcover journal. Either one is going to give the person who gets it a distinctive book to write and sketch in.

Gamers always need dice, and there are some beautiful sets out there. If you want to give someone a ridiculous amount of dice, however, maybe to jumpstart their collection, why not consider the Chessex Pound of Dice? It is literally that - 1 lb of random polyhedral dice. They aren’t the best dice you’ll ever own, but there’ll be about 80-100 of them, so they’re a great bargain!

If you have a Drizzt fan in your life, you might be aware that there’s a super detailed and articulated Drizzt and Guenhwyvar Premium Action Figure. This figure comes with two heads, two sets of hands, Drizzt’s signature scimitars, removable magical effects to put on those scimitars, Guen’s Figurine of Wondrous Power form, a cool d20, and a set of six artwork cards. Looks like a pretty sweet collectible!

Kobold Press is known for the high quality of their 5E hardcover books. Their latest monster book, Tome of Beasts 2, is no exception. I just received my copy, and the art and writing is top notch. It’s full of wild and weird monsters to shake up even the most jaded player, and, at 400 pages, it’s a hefty tome indeed! If your friend is a DM who loves hearing the players exclaim “What the heck is that?” this is a great gift. 

If there’s a youngster in your life who’s interested in D&D, and you want to give them a taste of it all, consider giving them The Young Adventurer’s Collection. These books are so much fun, and the collection is both a great savings, and it comes with a slipcover to hold them. This collection includes Monsters & Creatures, Warriors & Weapons, Dungeons & Tombs, and Wizards & Spells. Does yuour Young Adventurer have them all already? Instead, you could get them the newest book, Beasts & Behemoths, because every child should know what to do with the Tarrasque attacks.

For even more ideas, Wizards of the Coast has prepared their own gift guide. It includes home goods, games, family games, clothing, jewelry, and much more. You can check it out at https://media.wizards.com/2020/dnd/downloads/2020_giftguide_na.pdf

Well, I hope you had as much fun perusing this as I did compiling it. I hope we all have a safe and sane holiday season and make it through the rest of 2020! See you back here in a week for the last dragon of the year!

[kerra-and-company]

#5 for the slightly altered timeline prompt! Happy endings would be so nice :D!

[ @thoseofuswhoblossom ]

Okay, now that I've answered a very much NOT happy one (my own fault, I was given free rein and my brain chose angst) let’s do this one! Time for happy things! :D @thoseofuswhoblossom

5. the timeline in which they continue on from the current point in their lives to the best happy ending that is within their reach, where nothing that has happened so far is negated but from now on, the happy things start piling up.

Under a cut because this got long! :)

Kerra (because I just wrote what’s basically the worst timeline for her and she deserves to be happy): 

For some reason, it’s unnecessary to go to Cantha. Maybe Bubbles is actually decent, or maybe they’re simply content to disperse the magic and not keep it, or maybe something else entirely. The balance is restored/maintained, and Aurene is still Aurene, though maybe farther out of reach depending on whatever was necessary to make that happen. She can still talk to Kerra and does so on a regular basis.

The Pact retires from its taking-down-the-dragons job, and “Commander” officially (and actually for real, no matter what on earth happened with it in LWS3) becomes more of a ceremonial title. She’ll never stop helping--she wouldn’t want to--but the world-saving responsibility is no longer on her shoulders. She can be with her family and live a life that she and she alone chooses for herself.

She, Nisha, and Canach mean to have another sprout, but they actually end up having twins, Tev and Ia (that’s i - a btw), who awaken a few months post-Icebrood (these two are going to be canon in the main story, too). Rhi dotes on their baby siblings and helps teach them how to fight. Tev has Kerra’s empathy powers (but he gets a much calmer start learning to use them), and Ia is an elementalist (like her uncle Rel) with a tendency to destroy whatever room she’s in before she learns control. Kerra’s able to be there for all of her kids as they grow up, and for once, she doesn’t have to work as hard to balance her job with family because her job is whatever she says it is.

Maybe they settle down. Maybe they travel together. But she’s able to rest with her family and make her own way in the world, and to see her friends, and to finish the cleansing of dragon-corrupted land with her brother, and to do any number of other things without worrying about those that could die when she’s forced to fight a corrupt minister or a lich or a rogue god or an Elder Dragon.

She helps Jory and Kas and Logan deal with corruption in Divinity’s Reach. She plays with her nephew in the long grass of a field in Queensdale. She does what she can to help the charr and the norn rebuild. She teases her sister about a crush and is promptly threatened with being stabbed. She stands by Cio and Pliarr and Taimi when they deal with the Arcane Council. She laughs as she reminisces over drinks with Braham and Tanza and Minei.

She wakes up in the morning in the pile of family she’s built and made and chosen, and that’s the most incredible part of all.

(The random thing picker has chosen Ari again, haha, so here’s her version! And then I’ll give you one more character at the end.)

Along the same lines as Kerra, going to Cantha becomes unnecessary. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean, for Ari, that the Pact doesn’t go. It just means that they don’t need her (or Cio, or Brook, or Casca). 

She’s able to stay with them. She can actually take Cio out on a date, and they can laugh in the faces of anyone who stares. And she'll let herself laugh freely, now. She’ll let herself smile. She’ll let herself be happy and hold her mate’s hand.

Brook and Casca stay close--maybe not directly with her, but nearby, doing whatever it is they choose to do (helping the Crystal Bloom, working with the Olmakhan, opening a restaurant...could be any number of things). They stay in touch and they stay close.

Maybe Ari helps Crecia create a new structure and future for the charr, pointing out any number of things that they’ve been doing wrong. Maybe she stays as far the hell away as possible. Both options are viable.

On her days off, she goes to watch the cubs at the fahrar. She’d never be a primus; she wouldn’t want the job. But she watches them from the shadows and picks out any having trouble. She’ll usually help them indirectly, through gifts or subtle encouragement or protection that they don’t realize they have until their bullies back down. (And she may or may not threaten any adult charr mistreating the children. You have no proof either way.) Her lurking around earns her a nickname or two, some positive and some not so much. Depends on who’s giving them to her.

She and Cio make a life together. They probably open up a business, too--maybe fixing machinery and airships and anything mechanical, maybe transportation, maybe both. It’s fulfilling and normal in a way directly contrary to the standards of normal that she grew up with. 

She’s happy, and she’s home. She never has to fight again.

(And for a third, last but not least, you get Tanza!)

Her wound from Jormag’s magic heals, though it will forever leave a scar. They go home and find their mothers, alive and well, though clearly a bit traumatized from being stuck inside magic ice. She stays with them for a few months as they recover, then she leaves.

They stay in the Abattoir for several nights, and eventually, they reach Owl in the Mists. She becomes what passes for a havroun to Owl, which is a bit odd considering that Owl is technically no longer alive, but since she’s a revenant, they make it work.

They travel back into Bjora Marches and the Northern Shiverpeaks, learning and reclaiming the land. Sometimes other norn come with her (Braham does too, on a few trips, once he’s feeling better), sometimes it’s just her alone, sometimes it’s Cio, and sometimes it’s Minei. Once or twice, it’s Kerra.

They build a new shrine to Owl in Hoelbrak, as well as new ones for the other lost Spirits. She stays there sometimes, but she also travels--maybe a week or so there and a week away. They build a friendship with Minei, too; the two of them are very different, but they click in some ways, and Minei becomes like a second child to Tanza’s mothers.

She struggles sometimes. It’s an odd path to walk, and they’ve gone through a lot in the past year or so. But she has friends and family to hold her up, and she feels at peace. This is what they were meant to do, what they were meant to be, but they also chose it and walked into it with open eyes.

She loves her family and Owl, her Spirit, and she’s a bridge between Tyria and the Mists. They made themselves a legend and found exactly where they belong.

[zenithlux]

Only the Best (VergilxReader)

In which you decide to celebrate a special Valentine’s Day with a certain, blue devil and with what you hope is an equally special gift.

Happy Valentine’s Day Ya’ll ^^ Hope you enjoy 

You've been with Vergil for almost eight months, yet Valentine's Day felt like it was going to be the most terrifying day of your life.

You had yet to decide if that qualified as being over-dramatic.

After a year and a half as Vergil’s “confidant” (the word “friend” apparently didn’t exist in his dictionary), you knew that Vergil didn’t care for holidays. Dante claimed that his brother often forgot them entirely, as he never had a reason to celebrate. And while you understood that, you were very different. Holidays were a chance to try something new, unwind, and just spend time with others. It was probably something you got from your father, who always found the craziest reasons - usually an obscure celebration of some kind - to come home with your favorite food and simple presents.

So, when you did start dating Vergil (which had surprised even you, as you evolved from “acquaintance” to “companion” after a rather honest, late-night conversation), you’d often wondered how you would handle this particular difference between you two. Every holiday since that night had been filled with excited people and other things to do. Halloween had come and gone, and you were happy to help with a costume party at the orphanage (and had been quite amused at the Batman costume the kids had begged Vergil to wear). Thanksgiving had been completely out of your hands, as Kyrie and Nico cooked everything while you were stuck at work. It had been Vergil who had dragged you out of bed after your overly long shift to join them at a rather impressive dinner. You expected Christmas to be the most difficult, as it involved presents (which Vergil always claimed he didn’t want). But his family had kept him busy on that one, and he'd actually accepted your gift in private; chocolate strawberries (you never told his family of that one) and a silver star charm for Yamato; a reminder of your first real date to the planetarium.

You were thrilled to find that attached to Yamato’s hilt the very next day. 

But Valentine's Day was something else entirely. There was no family to back you up (though Dante had cheekily offered). No chaos to hide behind. Just you and Vergil and some kind of present because you really just couldn't help yourself. And as much as he adamantly declared that he didn't need gifts… he'd never declined the few you’d given him. 

But you've also never tried to give him something so… frivolous. You’d considered buying another series present - books had been your go-to for your random bouts of gift-giving - but that seemed too simple. Too obvious. And it wasn’t often that you’d had a significant other on Valentine’s Day, and you were (mostly) certain that Vergil wouldn’t remember it. So, as you wandered the seasonal aisle at your favorite store, you were bouncing with nervous energy, determined to find something that would work. 

Except nothing felt right. It didn’t help that Vergil despised the color red on anything that wasn’t Dante’s jacket. 80% of everything you saw was already out of the question. The teddy bears were too bright. The larger stuffed animals were too cumbersome. The chocolate wouldn’t fit his tastes (you had to go far out of your way for that). He wasn’t interested in any other candies (a real shame, though you were happy to enjoy whatever sweets he passed on). The cards were all too impersonal. And the longer you circled these three aisles, the more frustrated you got. 

There had to be something. Anything that would earn that rare, adorable, and sincere smile you only saw when others weren’t around. But you couldn’t imagine giving any of these things to him… and you were quickly running out of time. Maybe if you’d thought about it sooner you could’ve done something more personal. A handwritten letter an option, though you’d only given him one of those, and you hadn’t actually seen anything but a curious, raised eyebrow when you handed it to him. The bookstore wasn’t too far away… you could always fall back on that…

“Hey!”

Nero’s voice almost startled you, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more embarrassed. Fortunately, his knowing smile was all you needed to wave back. “Last minute shopping?” You said. 

Nero sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I almost forgot about it.”

You laughed. Like father like son. “Well, Kyrie seems easy to shop for. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Easier than finding something for my old man, huh?”

Yep. You’d be caught. Though you really shouldn’t have been surprised. While Vergil never outright announced your relationship, everyone in the family knew. Maybe it was the way he’d started sitting beside you at every outing or leaving early to walk you home. Or possibly the nights he spent at your house instead of Devil May Cry, watching TV (which he hated in any other circumstance), or talking over tea (which he hated a little less). The most obvious sign was his lack of response to Dante’s teasing after months of harsh denial. That had been the metaphorical nail in the coffin that confirmed what everyone you knew already assumed.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. “You’re not… wrong.”

Nero laughed. “Whatcha thinking of getting him?”

You sigh. “Nothing at the moment.”

“Then you’re overthinking it.”

You blink in surprise. “What do you…?”

“He’ll love anything you buy,” Nero said with a shrug. 

“...Are we talking about the same man?”

Nero laughed as he picked through the top row of teddy bears. “I’ve only known him for a few years, but even I can tell when he’s committed.” You blushed at that, though Nero didn’t notice as he pulled down a light pink bear holding a white heart. “Trust me. Find something that speaks to you or whatever, and it’ll be enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

And after another loop around the aisle, you found it. The perfect gift. And that’s when the wheels started turning, piecing together all the ways to make it a Valentine’s Day he might actually enjoy.

After all, only the best was acceptable for your handsome, blue devil. 

Two days later, you couldn’t contain the painful bundle of nerves that had your stomach in knots and your heart nearly bursting from your chest. It was the first time that you’d officially invited him to your apartment, as he often just showed up on your doorstep whenever he wanted. Granted, he always conveniently knew when you were there, and you’d never had a reason (or a desire) to turn him away. But those impromptu meetings were usually dictated by him. So even he had been a bit surprised when you asked him directly with a specific time in mind, and a promise of a good meal. 

You didn’t mention the holiday, and you’d glared Dante into submission before he had a chance to spoil it. But you didn’t miss the smirk on the younger twin’s face, or the subtle thumbs up he gave you when Vergil wasn’t looking. Unfortunately, Dante’s “encouragement” hadn’t helped your nerves in the slightest. Neither had an entire day of cooking, or the panic trip to the store when you realized that you’d bought the wrong wine. Then you’d spent way too long debating if you should or shouldn’t put the rose petals on the table, or light the strawberry-scented candles, or…

A gentle knock at the door brought your thoughts to a screeching halt. You took a long, deep breath, smoothed down your blue dress, and greeted your partner with the most genuine smile you could muster. “Welcome!”

That ever familiar, curious eyebrow raise shot back at you, but you merely stepped aside to let him in. “Just in time,” You said as you wandered back to the kitchen. “The steak’s almost done.” Why were you so nervous? You felt like a teenager on a first date, not a full-grown woman having dinner with someone you’ve cooked for at least a dozen times by now. But then your thoughts strayed to the present and you swallowed another bout of nerves. 

“Are you alright?”

You jumped much further than you meant to and flushed likely as bright as a strawberry when he had to grab you before you tumbled straight to the floor. “Fine!” You said. “I’m… fine.” 

He wasn’t fooled (was he ever?). “Are you…” He paused, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really.” You said. “Honest. I’m just…” The words ‘Losing it’ crossed your mind, and you sighed as he gently pulled yourself away. “I guess I should just get it over with, huh?” You could feel his eyes on you as you half-scurried out of the kitchen, only to return with a small, blue box with a simple, black bow. “I know, I know,” You said hastily as his eyes flickered between you and it at least twice. “You don’t like gifts. But today’s special.” You held it out to him. “So… here.”

It felt like an eternity before he took it from you, though it could’ve only been around thirty seconds, tops.  Mercifully, he didn’t waste time opening it, and your heart twisted when his eyes widened ever so slightly. The blue dragon plush was a bit larger than your hand, so you knew it would fit perfectly in his palm… if he’d actually take it out of the box. Instead, he simply stared at it, as if he wasn’t certain what it was. “When I was out shopping,” you said. “I kept thinking of what would mean the most to you.” His eyes flickered to yours. Still, he said nothing. After another deep breath, you continued with as much confidence as you could muster. “So I thought you would want something small that your brother won’t see, that can keep you company when I’m not around.”

After another quiet moment, which wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as the last one, he finally lifted it. You smiled, relieved when it did, in fact, fit perfectly in his hands, its little legs dangling just off the sides. “Your perfume,” He said in a very matter-of-fact way. But you didn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips. So close. 

“I may have slept with it the last few days,” You said. “And wearing your favorite perfume. Of course.” Finally, as the last of your nerves slipped away, you gave him a rather cheeky grin. “If you ever need more, you’ll have to come back for it.”

Finally, finally, it happened. He smiled. That genuine, relaxed, Vergil smile that you would give anything to see every day of your life. And it wasn’t a grin like Dante or Nero, but a gentle show of emotion that fit him just right. “This is very thoughtful, my love.”

Your heart fluttered in a mix of surprise and adoration. You couldn’t recall if he’d ever called you that. Maybe you missed it? Unlikely, as you had a feeling you’d never forget such a thing. Especially not when it was said with such astounding tenderness; the kind of tone that only he could ever pull off. “I’m glad you like it.” 

Then a much smaller box practically appeared in your hands, and it took far too long for you to realize it. “I’ve been informed numerous times this month that today is Valentine’s Day,” He said. Your eyes snapped to his in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush as his fingers brushed yours when pulled his hand away from yours. “My brother stayed out of this purchase, of that much I can assure you.” 

You couldn’t hide your gasp when you saw it; a silver heart necklace with glittering sapphires in the shape of a V. “Vergil…”

“It hasn’t been long,” he said as he slowly took your hand. There was a hint of nerves in his voice, something that you’d never heard before. But it made your heart swell as he pushed through it, and brushed his thumb along your check. “But you’ve already managed to steal my heart.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Now that’s something Dante did have a hand in, yes?”

Vergil snorted but didn’t deny it. “He may have mentioned kicking me out soon. I can’t fathom why.”

You paused for a moment, even though you already knew what you wanted to say. “There’s plenty of room here,” you said as you confidently met his gaze again. “I wouldn’t mind having someone else around more often if you’d like. And your little dragon would probably prefer this place to your brother’s.”

He watched you, expression calm, face unreadable. You tilted your head. “Is everything…”

The world stopped when his lips brushed yours, but he pulled away long before your heart found its way back to its body. “I would happily live here with you, my love,” He said, smirking when he saw how much he’d caught you off guard. But, in a surge of unprecedented confidence, you practically crashed back into him with a much deeper kiss than his had been. This time, he didn’t pull away, and you knew you’d be more than happy if he never did again.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 67: Home

Keith returns to his first home, and brings Lance to meet his father. But first, a tiny bit of fluff to soften(?) the blow

TRIGGER WARNING: This episode includes the themes of loss and grief, which be distressing to some readers. Please take care of yourselves <3<3<3

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Keith’s home is simple, four domes, one visibly newer than the others, and one with a new roof. The stove and fireplace have also been redone quite recently. There's also a little garden plot now, overgrown with unkempt flowering plants, lovely in its little patch of wilderness.

“Ah, Mom added a washroom. Thank fuck. Lake’s cold as shit for a bath… It was nice of her to fix the place up. I’d always assumed I’d come back out here when I finished my service.”

“I never really thought about your aspirations had you stayed,” Lance ponders.

“Mnh. Nothing special. Do my time in the military, maybe find a mate, come back here for a while, then travel the stars. Try to find Earth, where my name comes from. But I’m doing something different, and that’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Being mated to you, raising our kits, and looking after the Altean Empire? It’s not what I imagined, but I like it well enough. I’m happy.” And, because Lance doesn’t quite look convinced, “Really, Lance. Our life together makes me happy. Come on. I’ll show you around. We’ll unpack, and then we can swim in the lake, and you can see the waterfall.”

Lance watches Keith carefully, unsure of how he’ll react now that he’s home. They carry their things inside, watching the breeze roll red earth over the red stone floor. The main room is simple: a small fireplace with a narrow chimney, a knotted rug, a pair of chairs, a stool. Draped over the newer-looking of the two chairs -the other looks rather weathered- is a thin, threadbare cloth blanket, sun-bleached red. Keith smiles, picking it up.

“This was my blanket when I was kit. I couldn’t sleep without it. I left it here when I went with Shiro. I thought it might get taken away… I wonder if we could use it for something.”

“What, like for a baby?” At Keith’s nod, Lance continues. “It looks pretty thin, but maybe Pidge could do something with it. They act callous about it, but they actually really like kids, and not as science experiments. Not exclusively, anyway. It’s cute that you’re thinking about that stuff already.”

“It’s not like we’ll have a lot of time to devote to that stuff once we get home. We’ve delegated pretty much all of our duties for now, but that won’t last long. I have to think about while I have time.”

“Well don’t think about it alone. I’m right here. I already told you: I’m not going to be like the ol’ sperm donor back home.”

“Ugh.” Keith rolls his eyes, turning to open the cellar by the table. “I don’t want to look, think, or hear about your sperm donor ever again. He will never be left alone with our kits.”

“Good idea. Given the chance, he’ll gift them weapons and tell them they’ll take a life before they’re twenty.” Lance sighs. “You are going to let him see our kits, right?”

“Of course! He’s their grandfather! If he wants to see them, and can behave himself, then I want him to. Under supervision. My mother on the other hand…” Keith frowns, stands, brushes earth from his clothes.

“What?”

“Nevermind. Just more family drama. We have enough already.” Keith huffs. “Come on. I want to go swimming.”

“Can’t say no to that!” Lance chirps, skipping after his spouse. He doesn’t believe it’s ‘just family drama’ at all, but he’ll let Keith tell him in his own time. Just like he'll let the young man stall doing what he actually wants to do.

So instead of pressing his stressed spouse, Lance serves to distract him, swimming with him, basking in the waning sun, shoving his head under the water, getting into splash fights, and not acting at all like the prince he is. Which is fine, because they’re alone, and this is a very short respite before their lives get even more complicated. Taking time to 'mess around' in a small alcove behind a waterfall doesn’t hurt either.

Later, settling back against the rock face to watch Keith float in lazy circles, he finds himself wishing, for the very first time in his life, that he weren’t who he is, and for only the millionth time that he could make every last one of Keith’s days exactly like this one.

Keith swam up to the ledge Lance was sitting on, fitting in between his legs. “You okay?”

“Mhm. Just watching.”

“Ah. See anything you like?” Keith rests his cheek against the inside of Lance’s leg.

“Many things… You’re being very cute.”

“Still riding the high of being mated to you. It’ll wear off in a few quintants.” Keith kisses the bare skin at the inside of his thigh, smirking when Lance jolts.

“Just in time for your season. Brat.”

“Yeah. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?”

“You know we can change that if you want. And I’ll make it as easy for you as I can.” Lance’s stomach growls audibly, making Keith laugh, nuzzling against Lance’s leg, more sweet than sexy. They’ve been apart, physically, most of the day. He could probably do with some physical affection. The platonic kind.

Lance has caught on to just how important that contact is to Galra. When not working or in uniform, they’re a comparatively clingy species.

“Hungry?” Keith teases when Lance’s stomach growls again.

“I’ve been hungry since before we even got here!” Lance laughs, brushing dripping clumps of hair out of Keith’s face.

“You could have said something. We could have eaten already.”

“Yeah, well. I had better things to do. Like watching my husband have some fun for once.”

“Oh, come on, I have lots of-” Keith frowns. “You never call me your husband. Not unless you have to.”

“Yes, well.” Lance gazes at his husband, eyes soft. “It never really felt like you were. And you think gendering everything is stupid, so…”

“It’s fine.” Keith swims around, hauling himself up to sit beside his mate, cuddling up against his side, tail serving as an extra limb to hold him close. “I mean, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather call you my mate than anything else. That’s what actually means something to me. That's the word I choose for my life partner. And you should call me whatever means something to you. Whatever that is. Even if that’s just ‘my contracted roommate’.”

Lance laughs. “That’s… incredibly sweet. Sweeter than I expected, honestly.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps a lecture on the arbitrary constructs of sex and gender?”

“Tempting.” Keith laces their hands together, nuzzling against his pointed ear. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “But I have something I need to do. I've stalled long enough. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” If Keith doesn't want to go alone, Lance won't allow him to.

After grabbing a small bag from the den, Keith leads him through the last varga of light before sunset, weaving through trees like he still knows every root beneath his bare feet. BleepBloop eventually finds and joins them on their walk, presumably well-rested after sleeping the entire way there. The small primate remains mostly in the trees, leaping through the branches above, chittering and screeching at Keith to join him.

“We used to use the trees when we were out here,” Keith explains. “It tended to be safer than the ground. And most Alteans don’t tend to look up.”

“They really don’t. To be fair, it's unusual for fully-grown Galra to be hiding in trees. They don't exactly blend in.” The two laugh.

It fades quickly, when they stop at the edge of a ravine, Keith looking down. Without a word, t he Galra begins slipping down the side of the ravine, toward the water at the bottom. He moves with sure, practiced grace, aided further by familiarity with his surroundings, hyper aware of any changes. Lance is not so fortunate, slipping and sliding down the narrow ledges.

At one point, he loses his balance, falling back with a gasp. Fortunately, Keith manages to grab his arm, keeping him from falling to creek twenty dashes below. “You alright?”

“Fine. Just… struggling.” Lance does his best time hide how shaken he is. He can't imagine tiny, undersized Little Keith making this descent.

“Watch my feet. Put yours exactly where I put mine.”

With Keith moving slower, he’s more able to move safely down the side of the ravine. “This is much better. Thank you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it before.” Keith settles his feet into the sandy bottom. “I’ll help you back up… We should have done this earlier. It’ll be dark pretty soon.”

“You weren't ready, earlier. Don't worry. I can make light for us if need be.”

Keith’s not really listening, Lance can tell. Tail swaying, ears pricked, the Galra stares at a pile of rocks, roughly the length of a grown, male Galra, and about two dashes high.

“Is that-”

“Yeah. I was only six, so I couldn’t exactly move him. The rocks kept scavengers off of him. It’s how we’d protect kills if we weren’t ready to clean them.” Keith wades through the shallow creek, ears drooped. “Some of his smaller bones have probably washed away. The rest will too, sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry, beloved.”

“It’s fine. He’d be okay with that. My dad… He loved it out here, feeling like a part of something natural, something alive and thriving, all while minding its own business. This is where he belonged. Becoming a part of it is what he would have wanted anyway. It was me that wasn’t ready.”

Lance has never really thought before about life without his parents. Sure, he’s never had his mother, but he’s grown up with two fathers. Even before Alfor officially remarried when Lance was seven, Coran was his parent. Lance has only ever called him ‘daddy’, and later ‘dad’.

Thinking about it now, Lance can’t imagine losing either of them. Sure, he doesn’t typically get along with Alfor, but Alfor is his father, and the king. He’s an extremely important figure in Lance’s life. And Coran…

Coran, with his permissive attitude and his terrible advice and weird anecdotes and random facts and always being there to soften the blow when Lance screws up- Losing either of them would be devastating. It’s a terrible thing to think about, and it’s Keith’s reality.

So when Keith says he wasn’t ready to let go, Lance says, “I wouldn’t be, either. I don’t know that I ever could be.”

But he'd be ready to be Akira in a heartbeat.

Keith doesn’t respond, very quiet as he finds a bit of dry sand. He pulls a clay bowl, the inside caked in ash, from his bag, pours in the rest of the bag’s contents. A feather. A few different stones. A glass bottle filled with several layers of different colored sediments, which he opens and pours into the bowl. Herbs. Another, smaller bottle of a fragrant oil, which is also poured out.

From his belt, Keith removes a pair of stones, striking them together until he creates a spark. Sitting cross-legged in the wet sand, Keith stares at the low-burning flames. He only has until the flames die before Akira's spirit is finally sent on. Krolia got to convene, and now it's his turn. After this, the gods will take his father away, and nothing but bones will be left.

It's part of the reason he was stalling. This is a final goodbye, and that's always a hard thing.

“Hi, Dad. I kept my promise. I’ve come home…” Keith sighs, looking up at the sky as his eyes immediately start to sting. Lance sits right behind him, rests his cheek on Keith’s shoulder. “But, uh… It’s not really home anymore. I’ve been gone a long time, and- I think it’s okay, don’t you? It’s okay for this to be my sometimes home instead Home home, right? I mean- Fuck, I’m bad at this.”

Lance’s arm curls around his waist from behind, gentle and comforting, just enough for him to know he’s there. “Just talk, beloved. That’s all you have to do.”

“What I’m saying is… You did it. You protected me, and- I survived, because of you. And now, I get to live.” Keith rubs tears into his fur, sniffling. He still really, really misses his dad. Every day, he feels that empty space where Akira used to be. “I have a new home, and a good mate, and we’ll have kits, and a good life, and I hate that you had to die to give me that -

"And it's fine. Everything will be fine. I'll rule Altea with Lance, and help Lotor honor your wishes for Daibazaal, and I'll be a good uncle for his kits, and I'll be a good father, and I'll help keep the peace and you don't have to worry, okay? I'll be just fine. Better than fine, even.

“And that's fine. Really! I just- I just wish you were here. More than anything, I wish you were still here. I miss you so much..." Keith practically falls against Lance, still heartborken. "There are so many things I'll never get to see. I'll never get to see you and Mom together. I'll never get to see you with Lance, or our kits. I'll never get to see you proud of me, and everything that I'm working for. And I know that you are, but I’ll never get to hear you say it and it sucks.”

Keith takes a deep breath. The offering flame is already fading, and with it, his time to convene. “I’m sorry you died, but I’m glad that I’m still here, and I’m grateful to you for that.” The last of the flames gutter out. “I love you and I miss you, Dad. And I’ll see you again. I'll tell you everything you missed.”

They’re left in the dark, Lance wrapping around him, holding him tight.

“Do you- Was it good enough?” Keith croaks, rubbing at his eyes.

“It was perfect, baby. It’s not a speech. It sounded just like you, and that’s good.”

“He was my whole world,” Keith whispers, clutching BleepBloop as the concerned primate climbs into his lap. “And then he was gone.”

“I know, beloved. I know.” Lance rocks them gently. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Can we- Can we stay here for a little bit? Please?”

“However long you want.”

Lance lifts his hands, forming a few tiny werelights to hover above them, pale, gentle light to keep the dark at bay. It’s a good change from being trapped alone in the dark, just Keith and BleepBloop. Now, there’s him, his mate, his pet, and the imprint of his father’s life and legacy. Beyond this little circle, there’s friends and family. A purpose. A home. A future.

A good life, all because of the thing that he lost.

That one, precious, irreplaceable thing.

[queensdivas]

Hidden Blade Chapter 1

Y’all I’ve been to excited for this because I loved this movie with a passion. (Nothing beats Bohrap btw but damn 6 Underground was awesome not just because of Ben. Though he really made the movie even better.) If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters please hmu! 

Please enjoy and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter or one of my updates. I’m on a train ride to London from Edinburgh so it’s about five hours. I plan on getting a crap done this ride so you might be seeing multiple updates! 

Enjoy! 

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Governments should always be in fear of who they govern over..those who are being governed should never be living in fear of who they are ruled over. Yet we live in a world where those in power abuse it badly so they can live the lavish life of the vices, greed, lust, and even the gluttony of having everything at their feet. Those who suffer under those sadly are living in a society in fear, hate, and uncertainty of whether they’ll be okay by the end of the day. 

That’s where I come in. 

You have to start somewhere small in order to cause a chain reaction. That lovely snowball effect. I start small by cutting off the suppliers resources, such as their plants, dirty shacks, and even the old warehouses. Once the resources are extinguished, I then move up to those in high up positions in order to really cause the rolling to begin. 

Yet I was given an opportunity to do a little more good with a lot less strings attached. Who doesn’t love a little more freedom. But what I was offered was complete freedom and who wouldn’t want complete freedom. 

You ever played the Assassins Creed games? I like to consider myself a walking version of that except no magical abilities, no special creed, or even a long line of ancestors that are meant to look similar and only the first three or four games nailed the similarities. Not the point. For those of you who’ve never heard of those games, imagine someone who's able to scale an entire flat building, stand on top of a metal cross, and even have some really cool equipment to help get the job done. We’ll be getting to those a little later. 

My name is eight. The Assassin. 

What’s the difference between a Hitman and Assassin you ask? One gets paid to do any form of killing for money, the other one does it for either political or religious reasons in this world of ours. But you both kill people? True. Never declared myself a saint anyhow in this world so shush! Story time! 

I pulled up to one of the abandoned planes to turn off my 4runner and climb out. Love the whole abandoned airfield look for the hideout. Really gives that fast and furious sort of vibe. How many movies are in the series anyhow? 

A ram truck came pulling up next to my 4runner as I began grabbing all my junk to hopefully store somewhere that was a little more secure than my new apartment here in California. Keeping a bunch of ropes, weapons, and my vast amount of foreign fruit would get me busted and I certainly love my Nectarine! 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one brought into this little adventure.” He appeared in front of me as I swung my duffle bag right on my shoulder. I closed the door as I turned to see him all dressed in american/military gear. An American soldier? Real power move.  

“Glad to see we got ourselves a soldier. Eight.” I held my hand out to him as he shook it. 

“Seven. At Least according to that dude.” He pointed as one came out of a tiny airplane and smiled. 

“Weird to see you not looking like a GAP model.” He showed up at my apartment in Israel looking like he walked out of Sunday church for some god knows reason. At first I thought he was apart of Jehovah's witness but as you can see we’re about to kill some mother fuckers.

“Ah really funny. Come meet the rest of us oh so lovely fellow campers.” We walked into the base as a women with blonde hair was reading a map while another woman was reading what looked like some sort of medical book. 

“Ladies this is seven and eight our newest batch of newbies. The one reading the map is two and in the cap is five. Not sure where the other two are but I imagine they’ll be showing up sometime soon.” I gave them a small wave as I put my bag on the ground next to the large table. 

“Look who finally showed up. Four this is seven and eight our eyes from the sky.” He tossed his hoodie down on the table as he gave us a small smile. The last member came into the room which is what I’m assuming was three. 

“There’s this trick that we all do to get through our day. We take a box and into that box, we place all the horrors of the world, all the wrongs humans do to one another. And then we close the box and pretend it doesn’t exist. Only some of us spend too much time inside the box. We’ve lost our ability to pretend. We know there’s too much unfinished business in this messed up world. Our job as ghosts is to do the dirty work the living can’t or won’t. And we do it from here. This is our haunted house. It’s a lot like the Batcave, except it’s nothing like the Batcave. Seven, eight. You’re dead. You’re gonna be restricted to cities that you’ve never visited before. People that you’ve never met. All of course your fellow ghost, none of whom you’ll know by name, only number, for safety, and so no one gets too close.” I mean. All we need is a butler, some random child to say “geez guys” and I think we would be set. 

“So basically what we’re doing is a sense of a justice league but with no moral codes?” Asking as One nodded. 

“Yes. Except Wonder Women uses guns and Batman is okay with killing people.” I..okay that works. 

“Each one of us has our own little gifts we bring to the table and now that we’ve required you two, we now officially have a set team.” 

“We’re like the A-Team but on steroids except Mr. T is this guy.” The Spainard commented as everyone just stared him down. 

“In your vast dreams.” One commented.

“Will we be required to wear matching rings?” Asking which made I believe his name is four chuckle a little. 

“Funny. Alright c’mon I wanna show you two something.” We all followed him into another room where a wall covered with nine pieces of paper with a single roman numerals on each one. 

“This is our target hitboard. These nine fuckers have been placing too much shit inside the box. So now they answer to us. Target number one: this prick. The Dictator of Turgistan Roach Alimov.” I walked over to his photo and began studying the guy. Radiates small dick energy already from all the work I’ve done over there, kind of like Kim Jong-Un except he doesn’t flaunt his money. 

“God I’m really craving french fries. Can we finish this over at Luckies?” I believe he’s three asked the group as I began walking past the other eight pieces of paper as I lightly saw their faces. Efrain Gracian. He runs the largest drug cartel in Mexico and has been killing a shit ton of innocent people in their villages. Oh my god they put Kim Jon-Un on their target list hell yeah. 

“So we plan on just killing all these pricks because they keep shitting on their countries and the rest of the world?” Leaning against the wall facing them as one nodded. 

“I say we finish this thing at Luckies. I’m really feeling a shitty beer to set the mood of introductions.” One began walking out of the fort as everyone else followed except for me as I looked at the wall again. Figured there would be less on the board in all honesty. 

~~~

I slipped into the booth with myself facing the middle of the window and the inside of the restaurant, seven sitting to my left while four was on my right. To think that I’m now officially dead and I cut all my ties off when I left home so no funeral. Bet they thought I was already dead anyhow so this works nicely. 

“So what do you bring to the table?” I was asked as I tossed my car keys on the table. 

“The soundless steps of a killer is what I bring to the table. You guys make a shit ton of noise if I think I know who you are. I’m assuming you guys we’re the one destroying Florence?” His eyes widened a little which makes my assumption correct cause these fuckers really had fun in Florence. 

“Florence was an absolute disaster.” He stopped talking as the waiter came to the group. 

“A round of Heineken for everyone. Then whatever else they want.” I ordered as everyone smiled a little as they began ordering their preferred drinks. 

“Figured you’d be a good match since you graciously just bought us all drinks. So if you’re a soundless killer, who have you eliminated?” You can thank the new democracy in South Sudan, and ending an entire sex trafficking operation in Chad. Both we’re super difficult to achieve but damn I did an awesome job. Both were run by major cunts obviously and took months of planning to even get close to them. 

“Who do you think got rid of the cunt from South Sudan?” Seven looked over at me then leaned across the table. 

“You killed Zafir Bahri?” Seven asked as I nodded. 

“Yup. Yet it was one of my most difficult assassinations since I had to make a break for it in the countryside. Kind of stuck out like a sore thumb till I made it to a reservation station.” The waitress came with the first round of beers. Four took a big gulp of his beer then sighed. 

“Alright if we’re going to show off what our past selves have done. I got the chance to steal a 5.0 carat ruby necklace that had two smaller diamonds that were about 4.2 carats that was about 100,000 dollars worth.” Yet he’s sitting here in an American restaurant drinking some shitty beer and eating high heart attack food? Sounds about right. 

“And here you are in America drinking Heineken and about to eat a very greasy double cheeseburger. Cheers” I grabbed my bottle as he did for us to clink our bottles together. Four seems super chill actually and now I’m kind of curious how he pulled off that heist. 

“So. What’s the absolute best thing about being dead? I mean you don’t have to pay taxes anymore.” Seven asked the entire group as they all had an inner conversation with themselves about the best part of being deceased. 

“No more dmv lines, no more shopping for Christmas.” Christmas has always been stressful for my old life and I didn’t even celebrate it!

“Or backstabbing girlfriends.” Raising my eyebrow at four. Damn someone broke his little heart. I’d play the worlds saddest song on the tiniest violin but not sure if he would get the reference. 

“They should make an “Out of office” reply for dead people. Sorry I’m away from the planet right now. I’m fucking dead.” That’s a bit much but if it makes her feel better about being dead then let her do her own thing. 

“No more tax, no more criminal records, no more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked and or just the usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff.” How is being naked casual? Since when is being naked considered casual in any standard? 

“Umm. How is being naked any form of being casual?” He took a drink of his beer as he licked his lips.

“Ya know. Just walking around naked on your balcony or even on your front porch. It’s a casual thing.” I..I still don’t see that as a casual thing. Around the house yes because oversized t-shirt and underwear is always a comfy.

“Is that like when Jersey people say it’s a jersey thing?” Before he could answer One chuckled a little. 

“Guys. You’re all wrong. The best thing about being dead is the freedom. I mean, we’re all gonna die. May as well do it while we’re alive, right? When you’re young, you lock yourself into all of these bad decisions. Marriages, mortgages, and all that kind of stuff. But you die. It’s all escaped. Poof! Gone! From that point forward, all that matters is what you choose. The point is that we should bring seven and eight behind the curtain. You wanna hand me those over there?” Three handed him a bunch of plastic cups as leaned a little more forward on the table. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see him quickly glancing away back at the demonstration. Guess he’s kind of cute, not exactly sure how getting involved with people on the team is viewed. Rather avoid the whole situation. 

“Alright here. A little deminsation, no technology. So this is how to stage a coup in three not so easy steps. Alright you got a country, Turgistan right? These are the people, nice people, going about, doing their thing. Then you got the four generals, cuatro cunts, very bad guys. But there’s one worse guy. That’s the piece of shit dictator, right there at the top.” Sounds about right. That was basically the entire set up in South Sudan. 

“Don’t forget his brother.” Brother? Oh yeah, the guy has a brother that basically has been isolated or off the face of the earth at this point. Gotta love it when Governments hide those wanting a better world, or hiding sick pedophiles when they fake suicides so they don’t go to prison or end up being executed. 

“Democracy loving brother.” So we’ve got a shitty dictator and a loving democratic. Of freakin’ course!

“He’s the key. So we’re gonna hit the four generals. They’re gonna lead us to the brother.” 

“You kill top Generals, you fuck the dictators day.” Three shoved a few French fries in his mouth. 

“Can confirm.” I took a big gulp of my beer as I leaned back against the booth.

“Second thing we're gonna do is free the brother. And the last thing we’re gonna do is we’re gonna say goodbye to piece of shit dictator and hello to democracy loving brother.”

“It all goes down in four months, El Dia de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead.” Kinky.

“Oh that’s it?” Seven and I looked at each other for the both of us to nod in approval of the plan. 

“Um well that’s pretty simple ya know. The cups.” I took a drink of my beer as I began mentally seeing the whole plan in my head. 

“Wonderful presentation.” We’re gonna die aren’t we?

“So we’re all gonna die?” At this point I say that’s a hard yes. 

“Not me.” What confidence she has because there’s something about her that just kind of scares the shit out of me. Must be something federal in her former life.

“She’s not, we all are. Painfully.” Peachy. Real fucking peachy. But hey I’m already technically dead so this works out perfectly in the end. Just when my body shows up at someones house or is found floating on the coast, going to be quite a headache trying to figure out since I’m already dead. 

Maybe I should be more optimistic with this new life. Could be worse. I could be stuck in a work camp in Siberia. Maybe we just see where this goes and if it doesn’t end well I just disappear into the unknown. Sounds like an absolute plan! 

Taglist:

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland 

@takemetoneverland420 @art-flirt @intoanothermind @raylan-c

[fandomflail]

title: Recognition (7/8)

rating: M

summary: Soulmate trope AU. Set in a world where humans and elves coexist.

a/n: The whole fic has been edited, and this Chapter was posted somewhat 2 years ago, but I’ve now revamped it, it’s twice it’s original length and basically, just different. so yes, this is a legit update! and chapter is currently being edited so we’re almost there! Also, thank you kmomof4 for your encouragement. And galadriel from Ao3 for reading everything I’ve ever written and leaving a comment. This one is for ya’ll. 

Past Chapters: on AO3

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CHAPTER 7: Rattled

When she had first laid eyes on him, there was no mistaking Killian was an elf of quality lineage. With his sharp jaw line, piercing eyes, and tipped ears, he was the embodiment of a dashing elf.

However the night he came to pick her up for dinner, less than a week after the embassy dinner debacle, Emma would have never have guessed the man was elf.

His hair was artfully mussed, covering his distinctive pointed ears. He was dressed in a dark leather jacket, a dark blue dress shirt and dark jeans. Perhaps it was the jeans, a vintage human clothing that was all the rage across fashion spreads, that cinched the look, but Emma had been stunned into silence when she’d seen him.

He simply flashed her a cocky grin, as if he knew exactly how good he looked. “I know, Swan,” he had said, even though she hadn’t said a word.

She glared at him, but the effect was lost when she dove in for a kiss to show her appreciation.

“Seriously? You’re supposed to kiss after the date,” Henry complained, even though he was grinning.

“Mae g’ovannen, lad.”

“What do you know about kissing?”

“Mae g’ovannen,” Henry responded, ignoring her.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?” she asked, deciding to have that conversation with him later.

Henry rolled his eyes, making a ‘go’ motion with his hands. “Yes, mom, I’ll be fine, bye, go enjoy yourselves.”

She shook her head at him, linking her fingers through Killian’s. “Okay. Holo me if anything comes up, okay?”

“Yes, mom. Bye!”

As the door shut behind them, she could feel Killian laughing next to her.

“Oh shut up, just you wait.”

His laughter went silent abruptly, as she realized what she said.

“Emma?” he asked, the question hanging in the air.

“No! I mean, no, not that I know, no I just meant… not that.”

He nodded slowly, blinking, even as his eyes darted to inspect her flat stomach. His long lashes danced across his cheeks, before he exhaled lightly.

“Ready for a night of debauchery, Swan?”

“Are we buckling some swash or something?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

* * *

“He took you on a cruise?”

“He did,” she confirmed, unable to stop the stupid grin on her face. “Up and down the river.”

“Damn, girl.”

Emma shrugged, sipping her vin in order to stop smiling.

“You’re really happy,” Ruby breathed out.

“Why the tone of surprise?”

The red-headed woman laughed, signaling to the waiter for a refill.

“It’s you, Emma. I love you girl, but you’re not exactly the warmest human this side of Alamané.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So when do I get to meet him?”

“Woah, slow down,” Emma said, flicking a peanut at Ruby.

In a show of her excellent reflexes, Ruby caught it with her mouth, chewing on it with a shit-eating grin.

“Show off,” Emma muttered.

“Anyway, like I was saying, when do I get to meet him? It better not be on the wedding day itself!”

“For goodness sake,” Emma grumbled.

“Emma,” she whined, “you’re not answering the question.”

“He’s a little shy,” she hedged. No one knew she was dating an elf.

“I’m your best friend!”

“That’s debatable.”

“That’s rude.”

“Bite me,” she said, only to roll her eyes when Ruby grabbed her hand and bit it. The woman was an animal sometimes.

“I would love to join in on this little soiree,” a man’s voice pipped up beside them, sliding onto the open stool next to Ruby.

Emma turned to tell him off when the words died on her tongue. He was an elf. Not that being creepy assholes was limited to the human species, but it was rare to see.

He smiled. “I do have that effect on women, elf or human.”

“The only effect you’ll have from this conversation is my shoe in your arse,” Ruby said, with a cheerful tone that promised pain.

“Feisty, I like it,” the elf said, standing to face them. “and you, my lovely blonde vixen, look familiar. Have we met?”

She hadn’t been introduced formally to elvish society. She lived pretty much on the ‘human’ side of Alamané. It was unlikely that he’d ever seen her, as she’d kept away ever since that night in the embassy.

“You’re not even meeting us now,” Ruby snapped, clearly not in the mood for random hookups tonight.

“And if you decide to ignore her, you’re in for pain. And not the good kind,” Emma added.

“What a pity,” the blonde haired elf drawled, chocolate eyes twinkling at them.

“Yeah sure, bye,” she said, turning her stool to ignore the amused elf.

Ruby was glaring mutinously at the back of his head.

“You okay?” Emma asked, eyeing her friend. Ruby wasn’t usually that rude or standoffish.

“I’m not a racist,” her friendly said quietly, “but lately there’s been an influx of policies that seem to favor elves. I’m just a little pissed with the whole I’m a victim card they’re pulling.”

“What do you mean? How?”

Ruby leaned closer, speaking almost directly into Emma’s ear.

“A lot of it has only been tabled, nothing official. You know it’s my job to read Senator Katherine’s documents and brief her, right? A lot of it is…problematic. Apparently the elves think humans need to be limited to one child a family, because we’re overpopulating the planet. And because the Republic works on a representation basis, it means more humans in the Senate than elves. They’re worried about their interests.”

“Would that be bad?”

Ruby sat back with a sigh, keeping her voice low.

“I’m not saying we humans don’t need better family planning. Clearly some ancient practices of the First Voyagers has stuck around. But this is where it starts. They’ll say let’s stop them from having more children, then it’ll be let’s decide who gets children and so on.”

“Come on Rubes,” Emma cajoled, “they’re just holding humans accountable.”

“The problem is they still act like we just landed on this planet. It’s been 4,000 years!”

“It’s only been 6 generations for them. Isn’t the oldest elf like 900 years old or something?”

“Whose side are you even on right now?”

Emma blinked. Even if she hadn’t just found out about her elvish issues, she would have still had made the same remarks. It was objective, wasn’t it?

She stretched her neck, soothing the muscle with her palm before looking at Ruby.

“I was just saying, is all.”

“Whatever, let’s talk about something else.”

* * *

The breeze was strong up in the penthouse, the clear blue of the Vistula River reflecting the city in its waters. Emma shut the balcony door, leaning against the railing as she took in the city view. Three months had passed in a blink of an eye.

She fingered the chain hanging from her neck, finger dancing in and out of the ring Killian had given her. She could see the desperation in his eyes to accompany the gift with three words, sacred in both English and Elvish, but something about her expression must have stopped him.

And she had wanted to encourage him, perhaps even say it first, and yet…she had faltered, the words dying in her throat in an overwhelming tide of emotion.

He’d taken in it stride, though he couldn’t hide the light dimming in his eyes. It had been the same when she’d been sick two months prior, and he’d hesitantly given her a pregnancy test, only to softly smile at her relief at the negative result. A fake smile, one that said despite his insistence that she was right about a goddamn baby complicating everything, he still wanted it badly.

The weight around her neck had only been there a week, but Emma could no longer imagine not having the comforting presence of the ring resting in the valley of her breasts.

She sighed, taking in the city.

None of Liam’s search had yielded results about her parents. She wondered if they had died, or maybe, truly hadn’t wanted her. Killian was adamant that she had been sent away for protection, but the longer the fruitless search went on, the harder it was to deny that maybe she really was an unwensket.

“What are you thinking about?” a voice asked her, making her jump.

She turned in surprise, the heir to the elven kingdoms walking up to her soundlessly. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Stuff,” she responded eloquently.

“Stuff,” Liam repeated, with a bemused smile.

“Stuff,” she affirmed.

“You looked like you were brewing a storm just from your thoughts. Mother used to say that, especially when Killian threw tantrums.”

���He threw a lot of tantrums as a child?”

“What are you talking about, he’s still throwing tantrums.”

“No, now he broods and sulks in corners instead,” she said, laughing at Liam’s little grin.

He rested his forearms on the balcony, looking out in the same direction as she was.

“True. So why are you emulating him?”

“Just thinking.”

“If you say stuff…”

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder.

“I know I got mad before, but I do want to meet my parents. I mean, I have so many questions.”

“I can only imagine. Unfortunately, it seems like they don’t want to be found.”

“That’s the thing I’m worried about. I mean, I got cycled into the human system. But it shouldn’t be that hard to fish me out from it, if they really wanted to, right?”

“Except it’s not like you stayed in Nysno. Or that we’ve broadcasted your origins.”

“I know, I know. I was moved, I travelled too far, they may have given me a human last name instead of whatever my elvish name is. I know,” she said, ticking off the possible reasons from her fingers.

“Actually… come to think of it… Emma is the human version of Ardhoniel.”

She stood straighter and cracked her knuckles. “Are-thonn-ee-ell? That doesn’t sound like Em-ma.”

“It’s the meaning, not the sound that is translated.”

“What does it mean?”

“Universe.  All encompassing. Everything.”

“Hmm… I don’t know about that.”

“I know you’re Killian’s everything,” Liam said, not a trace of irony in his tone.  

Despite herself, Emma found her face flushing. “Umm,” she said, “it’s only been a few months.”

“Short yes, but you’ve got the universe backing your claims.”

She sighed. Liam, despite his non-Recognition union, was a strong believer in the fates of true love or whatever.

“We’re still learning one another.”

“Oh please, you’re both madly in love yet dancing around each other despite being together. It’s maddening.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, quickly braiding it so the wind could no longer torment it.

“And to think, you first hated me.”

“You grew on me like moss on a damp forest tree, what can I say,” Liam teased.

“That almost sounded complimentary, you’re losing your touch.”

Before Liam could respond, a loud, insistent rapping on the glass door sounded. They turned in unison to see Killian, a big grin on his face as he held up a glass of mulled vin. He had insisted on remaking their mother’s old recipes.

The door slid open, and Killian poked his head out.

“What’re you two doing out here?”

“World domination plans, little brother.”

“It’s younger, not little, there’s nothing little about me, and two, Elsa is challenging Belle to some kind of trivia competition and I think Belle is winning. You better go referee.”

Liam rolled his eyes in exasperation, shaking his head conspiratorially at Emma.

Killian stepped out, two goblets in his hand.

Liam swiped the one his younger brother was just about to bring to his lips, earning a loud protest and an ensuing tug of war that ended when Liam warned that the liquid was about to spill.

Emma laughed as Liam used that opportunity to tug it neatly out of Killian’s grip, absconding with the mulled vin.

“Asshole,” Killian muttered, glaring at his brother’s smirking face behind the now closed glass door.

“Elves really are no different than humans, you know,” Emma said.

“Yeah, they’re all assholes.”

“Oh, stop being grumpy and let me taste it.”

Turning to her, he visibly brightened as he thrust the goblet in her hand. The nervous, excited energy she could feel from him was sudden and all encompassing. Emma felt a rush of adoration sweep through her as she met his wide blue eyes.

Emma took a delicate sip. It was surprisingly good - fruity, rich and potent.

“Impressive, Your Highness,” she teased.

“Really? It’s good?” He coughed, clearing his throat, “I mean, of course it’s good.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Yes, it’s good.”

“Anyway, more importantly, do you know what just happened in the kitchen?”

She sipped her wine, nodding at him to continue as her eyes darted to see what could possibly be going on inside. Henry and Gracie were playing holo games. Belle and Elsa were moving their hands animatedly, seemingly talking over each other, while Liam watched like he was a hummingbird undecided between two flowers. Jefferson was the only one in the kitchen.

“What did Jefferson do?” She asked, as Killian said nothing, merely grinning at her madly like he was waiting for the ball to drop.

“Oh, not what Jefferson did, love, but Belle.”

“Belle?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, are you going to tell me or what?”

“She asked him out for dinner.”

“She what?”

“Well, more like…” he bit his lip and squinted, “more like, she asked him to dinner tomorrow to discuss something that came up during Gracie’s tutoring.”

Emma groaned, “That is not asking someone out.”

“You just had to be there. Context is key.”

“I didn’t even know Belle liked Jefferson. Oh wait, did he say yes?”

“Of course he said yes.”

“Huh,” she said, peeking another look at the elf in the kitchen.

“What?”

“He’s I mean he’s not… he’s fine with humans, obviously, but um, he’s never struck me as the kinda guy who would date a human. Not that it’s a date.”

“Darling, elf or human, he’s not exactly the most pekný.”

“Pek-what?”

“Pekný,” he repeated, “which is like… being pleasant. Personable.”

“Oh, well yeah, that’s an understatement.”

Emma put her glass down on the ledge, and moved forward to nip at Killian’s lips. The ease of which she could do this, and the sheer comfort it brought her would make her head spin if she thought about it too much, so she simply didn’t.

Before he could escalate their kisses, a shrill alarm sounded from his holo.

“Výstraha! Výstraha!”

They both looked down as Killian straightened his arm out. Výstraha was a warning call, and use of the holo in such a manner was regulated for emergencies only.

A string elvish words followed that warning in panicked, hurried, tone that Emma did not understand. She watched as Killian’s body immediately tensed, his eyes darting around, and was not startled when he grabbed her arm and pushed her inside the penthouse.

“Liam!”

But Liam had already moved towards them. Anticipating her question, Liam looked at her, with his brow furrowed and body tense, face one of shock.

“There was an attack,” was his explanation.

“At the place,” Jefferson clarified, and before she could ask, he said, “The King is dead.”

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

김용희, Kim Yonghee

anonymous asked:

hi!! do you do cix requests? if you do, can you do some yonghee fluff :( where he’s Shy Boy and the other members totally know the reader has a crush on yonghee but he has no clue tq

Group: CIX (Complete in X)

Member: Yonghee

.

.

.

You rushed backstage, various voices exchanging commands in your ear.

“Is anyone bringing mic five to stage right?” one of the voice asked. “Time-crunch is six minutes, then we’re live.”

You tapped your ear-piece twice with deadly efficiency, balancing the plethora of things in your arms. Mics, wires, props—you had it all. “I’m taking care of it, Jae-hee,” you answered the frantic, middle-aged man with too much on his shoulders. “I’m also bringing the black roses for the VAV Poison Special Stage.”

You had a knack for being calm in these high-tension situations, and you prided yourself in that. Still, despite that special skill of yours, nothing seemed to be going right tonight. 

There had been broadcasting issues, audio cut-outs, faulty lighting—the works. Just when you thought you’d started getting things under control, one of the stages was pushed up a few minutes, so you had to rush to get everything prepared. 

You’d lost count of how many times your feet had gotten stepped on by other busy staff members and stage-hands. You heaved an internal sigh, mentally preparing yourself for the wave of articles that would be rolling in sooner or later about the company’s ‘negligence’ and ‘lack of consideration for the artists’.

It wasn’t that at all.

Sometimes things just didn’t go right, and you felt that pressure just as much as anyone else. After having this job for a few years—a stage-hand and audio director at KBS—you’d made plenty of friends in the industry.

And even if you hadn’t, you still had massive respect for all those artists daring enough to brave the stage. You didn’t think you had it in yourself, and you always felt a sense of astonishment seeing those that looked so confident on stage. 

They looked like they were in their element.

But then again, wandering back and forth between side-stages, back-stages, changing, waiting and control rooms, you also saw what went on off the stage.

You saw the tears they shed from one tiny little mistakes, you saw the comfort they would seek from the people around them, you overheard the promises they made to themselves and the people they cared about. 

You saw the stress, the break-downs, the pressure, the excitement and happiness, the most intense and fiery passion, the joy—you saw the greatest behind-the-scenes in the world, because you saw the behind-the-scenes of the people, not the job.

The lifestyle of an artist—one that everyone thought was glamorous and beautiful—was no different from anyone else’s life. 

It had its ups and downs. Its good, bad and ugly.

“Four minutes,” Jae-hee said through your earpiece. You could hear an occasional clat-clat, so you knew he was chewing his thumb-nail again. You’d nagged him about that a couple of times because you knew his wife hated it.

You shouldered past one of your co-workers, giving them a quick smile of acknowledgment. “I’m almost there,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.” You quickened your pace, trying your best to make it down the seemingly endless hallway in due time. 

One of the black roses tucked under your arm decided to take a nose-dive to the floor. 

You clicked your tongue, slowing to a stop and kneeling down to scoop it up. You considered for a quick moment just carrying it in your mouth, but then you realized other people would be touching it later on, so hygiene overrode convenience.

Sniff, sniff

You froze, mid-reach. You knew that sound quite well; that tell-tale hitched breath. Your eyes shifted to the side, peering down the side-corridor, littered with vending machines and crappy lighting. 

“You almost there?” Jae-hee’s voice interrupted your scanning.

You double-tapped your earpiece, a habit you had when its sounds tickled your ears. “I’m almost there,” you said. It technically wasn’t a lie, but you may be a little delayed. 

You checked your watched, clicking your tongue once again. “May God give me the gift of punctuality,” you muttered to yourself, giving a quick look up to the ceiling, as if trying to make eye contact with the Big Man himself. 

You looked back down the corridor. 

Sure enough, leaning against the wall—slightly masked by a Sprite vending machine—was a young man, all puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. It hurt your chest to see such a sight. 

Crying alone was such a sad thing.

You studied the man briefly; his stature, the way he held himself, the forward bend of his shoulders. All-in-all, he was either naturally shy or very, very sad. 

Maybe both.

You let out a knowing hum seeing the mole under his eye. It was unmistakably Kim Yonghee.

You’d been familiar with CIX since their debut four months ago. You’d be in charge of the stage and camera directing for their first stage at KBS, and it’d given you the opportunity to meet with all the members to work out details. 

You’d even befriended the youngest, Hyunsuk.

Yonghee hadn’t made the strongest impression, if you were being completely honest. He stood stiffly and quietly, he was polite, he didn’t say much. He was awkward in more than a few ways, but you didn’t hold that against him. 

You were awkward in front of strangers, too. 

Seeing him like this, though? Tears streaming down his cheeks and any ghost of a smile disappeared from his face? It made you grip the front of your shirt, right over your heart.

You gently set down the black roses and tried to block out the sounds of Jae-hee’s nail-biting. With a deep breath, you put a smile on your face, gentle and ingenuous. 

You walked up to him with quiet steps, standing a reasonable distance away. He didn’t seem to notice you. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a bill. “What’s your favorite soda?” you asked. 

Yonghee jumped from the sudden question, letting out a quick yelp. His hands got busy with wiping his eyes and fixing his hair, trying to look presentable. It was as if he was trying to pretend that he wasn’t just sobbing in the dark. 

“Pardon?” he stuttered out.

You chuckled a little. “Soda,” you repeated. “Do you like it?”

He stared at you, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I don’t really understand...” his words trailed off.

You nodded. “Water, then,” you said. You strode over to one of the vending machines, clicking a random number—it didn’t matter which one; they were all Dasani water bottles. 

You handed it to him. “Here,” you said, still smiling. “Stay hydrated.”

He took it from you with the most endearing hesitation. “Why?” he asked with a quiet voice. He frowned, not meeting your eyes. “Do you pity me?” 

You shook your head. “Of course not,” you said. He met your eyes, as if searching for an answer within them. Your smile grew wider. “I like your mole,” you said simply, pointing to the corner of your own eye for example. 

You shrugged. “That’s all.”

He looked dumbfounded. “You bought me water... Because you like my mole?” 

“Yeah,” you said. You heard Jae-hee’s nail-biting intensify, so you knew it was time to go. “Hey, I’ve gotta run,” you said, glancing at your watch, “but make sure you drink that.” You gave him a knowing look. “You’ve gotta replace that water somehow.” 

He looked embarrassed. “You saw?” he asked sheepishly.

“I heard, mostly,” you said. “It’s dark down here.” You chuckled. “A little creepy, honestly. Why do all buildings have a hallway like this, I wonder?” Without another word, you walked back into the light, scooping up the prop roses and the mic. 

Before you were too far down the hall, you called back to him, “By the way, I was listening in on the stage!” you called. He gave you a look, reminiscent of a curious pup, his ear perking up and eyebrows raising an inch or two. “Your voice-crack was nothing,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “And the crowd loved you!”

And that was how you had officially met Kim Yonghee, a very sweet, shy young man that you had no idea you’d fall head over heels for, especially not at that time when you thought you were just cheering up a stranger.

Every time you saw him, it was because you were hanging out with Hyunsuk. You hit it off quickly, already having a secret handshake by your fourth hangout. 

By the fourth meeting with Yonghee, you were both still politely bowing to each other and sharing small, timid smiles. You were always the one to spark a conversation, though every once in a while, he would make the effort to compliment your outfit. He stayed away from compliments about your physique; for what reason, you were unaware.

Hyunsuk always called you before every trip to the KBS building, just to check if you were there that day. He was never not eager to see you and tell you about all of their crazy schedules and fun fan events.

Yonghee had never even asked for your number outright, even though the other guys had. He tried asking Hyunsuk for it, but of course, the youngest was the boisterous and chatty type, so that ‘secret conversation’ reached your ears in no time.

You were part of Hyunsuk’s life, Hyunsuk was part of your life, and Yonghee was part of Hyunsuk’s life. Therefore, you were part of each other’s lives.

CIX was part of both of their lives, so in no time, the six of you were involved with each other, melding into each others’ lives.

Yet he still didn’t seem to be able to get through his cute, thick skull that you had the most massive of crushes on him, even if everyone else knew at a glance.

Still, you gave yourself the freedom to imagine different scenarios between the two of you, smile because of him, and slowly learn more about him, because you respected yourself enough to not be ashamed of your feelings. 

A crush was defined as having a brief but intense infatuation for someone, and you were okay with that.

In your eyes, feelings didn’t have to be complicated. If it bloomed into something more, you were okay with that, but if it didn’t? You were fine with cooing over his smile in secret. ...And—perhaps—taking a few glances at his butt whenever he was turned away from you.

You weren’t trying to hide it from him, and it wasn’t your fault that he didn’t catch on. Though, you had to admit, you were getting tired of the other guys trying to drop ‘subtle’ hints toward you affections.

In case you couldn’t guess, they weren’t very subtle at all.

Byounggon was famous for his over-the-top winks whenever he would say something suggestive about you like, “Doesn’t she look nice today, Yonghee?” Cue the wink! He was like an embarrassing parent in that way.

Seunghun always had the perfect balance of throwing off your balance. To put it in other terms: he was well-versed in the arts of pushing you two into each other’s personal bubbles. You weren’t too fond of that, because it always hurt your pride a little to feel Yonghee inch away when you’d been pushed to lean on his shoulder.

Jinyoung was pretty innocent in his level of nosiness. He stuck to giving shy, blushed smiles like he was watching a romantic scene between two lovers, when really all you two did was say ‘hi’ to each other. He was the one you couldn’t get mad at, just because he was too cute while doing this.

Hyunsuk was by far the most problematic, just for the fact that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about anything. He cared about you though, so he tried his best to hold his tongue. You kept telling him that you didn’t care if Yonghee found out or not because a crush is just that: a crush. Nothing to be ashamed about.

Despite how many times you’d told him that, he still insisted, “Don’t worry! I’ve got your back! I won’t blab to him,” he’d promise. You knew that eventually that wouldn’t be the case, but you still appreciated his efforts. Especially since it was hilarious to watch him struggle to make good on his promises.

He constantly let things slip, like his iconic: “She probably watches Yonghee fancams while she’s home alone”, while munching down on a piece of fried chicken.

Yonghee had looked up at him, confused eyebrows and surprised eyes. “Why would she do that?” he had asked, his gaze gingerly shifting to you. 

You shrugged. “Why not?” you posed the question, pouring some duck sauce over some fried rice. “You’re talented, and it’s cool to watch how you work on-stage.”

His cheeks got warmed as he shifted awkwardly. “Why, though?” He asked softly, yet there was a level of genuine curiosity behind it, like he wondered how anyone could be interested in him. 

Hyunsuk had rolled his eyes. “Duh,” he huffed exasperatedly, tossing down his chopsticks. “She likes y—!” 

Byounggon and Seunghun dived for the youngest at the same time, one of them successfully covering his mouth and the other one tackling him to the ground. Though, in the mess of limbs, you couldn’t really tell who was who.

“This one��s being dumb again,” Seunghun laughed (unconvincingly, in your opinion). “Don’t listen to him, ‘kay?” 

Yonghee shrugged meekly. “I don’t usually,” he said, making Hyunsuk let out a muffled ‘hey!’

All you could do was watch over the situation with a smile playing on your lips and laughter blooming in your chest. “You’re all dumb, okay?” you said. “I think we can all agree on that.”

“What about you?” Jinyoung asked, smiling a little. 

You thought for a moment. “I’m just a little smarter.” 

That whole scenario ended in a short-lived food fight between the six of you. Not only that, but one of your fondest memories, despite the sticky rice that refused to remove itself from your hair no matter how aggressively you finger-brushed it.

The guys didn’t have it much better, though; their shirts smudged with all kinds of sauces and gloop. They looked a lot like contemporary art pieces, if you were being honest.  

You didn’t care, though. It was still a fun time that you would always remember, not only because it made you hack up a lung in laughter, but also because they all looked so happy and free.

Especially Yonghee.

It was the first time you had seen him look so unburdened and happy, his smile reaching his eyes and his hands too busy scooping up noodles to chuck as ammunition for him to bother with getting embarrassed. 

It was also probably the first time he had truly made your heart beat up into your throat, choking back your breath. 

It was a few weeks after that day that you found yourself sitting in a restaurant with the five surprisingly loud boys that you’d gotten close to in celebration of their first win with Numb. 

“It’s a good song, you guys,” you said, raising a glass. “You deserve it.”

Everyone raised their glasses (most of them filled with iced water and tea), clinking them against your. “Heck yeah, we do!” Hyunsuk hollered, tossing back his drink with a wide grin on his face.

You’d never known someone that could get drunk on water, but you supposed if there was someone out there, it’d be Hyunsuk. 

Byounggon looked over at Yonghee. “This kinda feels like a date, doesn’t it?” he said. Cue the wink, once again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

Yonghee quirked a brow, looking up from his plate. “Between six people...?” he said. “No, not really. This doesn’t feel like a date at all.” 

You nodded to yourself, acknowledging the fact that this was just a hangout between friends. Now, the biggest hurdle: convincing yourself that you were fine with that.

Seunghun nudged Yonghee with his shoulder, a smirk on his lips. “Are you sure?” he asked. His voice lowered to a poor whisper. “I’m not gonna pretend like a haven’t seen you checking her out every once in a while.”

Yonghee choked on his soup, spitting it all over the table. “What?” he got out. He jumped a bit, hitting his knee on the table. The pain didn’t seem to register. “What are you talking about?” he coughed out, a hot blush on his cheeks.

Your ears perked up. You didn’t take it seriously at first, but Yonghee’s ears only got that red when he was being too honest or he was lying. You’d be lying yourself if you said that you didn’t hope it was because of they lying.

Yonghee looked at you, something swimming in his eyes—seemingly guilt. “I swear I didn’t,” he said, his ears getting redder. “He’s just kidding.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but someone else beat you to it. 

“Oh my God!” Jinyoung groaned. “I’m stepping in!” He pointed to the two of you in turn. “You guys both like each other, okay?” he said, obviously completely done with the situation if it was enough to annoy him into speaking up about it. “The thing is, you’re both too humble to think yourselves ‘worthy of each other’—whatever that means—so you’re refusing to acknowledge your feelings for one another, even though they’re totally friggin’ obvious!”

He took a deep breath, recovering from his nagging free-style rap. “So just go on a date or kiss or something already!” he finished, panting.

You blinked at him, watching as his cheeks started dusting over with heat as he realized what he’d just shouted in the middle of a restaurant. You definitely hadn’t expected Jinyoung to be the one to spill the proverbial beans, but you pleasantly surprised at his sudden outburst. 

The realization of his actions dawned on him. “Sorry,” he stuttered out, bowing to anyone in the restaurant that might’ve been staring at him, including you.

You shook your head, shaking your head. “I don’t care, dude,” you said. You held out a celebratory fist. “That was friggin’ awesome.” 

He shyly bumped it with his own. “Thanks...” he said, sitting back down with a shy, downcast expression. With a slight nod of the head, he gestured to Yonghee. “Pay attention to him,” he mouthed. 

Your eyes snapped to Yonghee a little faster than you’d wanted. His eyes and mouth were hanging wide open, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. It almost made you a little uncomfortable how he was just staring out into open space. 

Hyunsuk tapped his shoulder hesitantly. “Are you... okay?” the youngest asked. 

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor. “You have a crush on me?” he asked suddenly, shaking his head and pinching his arm, as if trying to see if this was a dream. 

A smile crept its way onto your lips, uncontrollable in nature.

You two had a lot to talk about.

.

.

.

He’s so cute... Can someone gift CIX with more recognition and Yonghee with more self-confidence? If no one else’ll do it, I shall take it upon myself.

Thank you so much for reading and requesting! I enjoyed writing this so much. ^-^ I hope everyone’s holidays were pleasant, and I hope you’re staying warm! Spend the rest of your 2019 happily and with the people that make you feel your best, ‘cause there’s not much of the year left. I’m gonna stop here, because otherwise, this is gonna become a TED Talk, and none of y’all need that from me. 😂 Thanks again, Anon and anyone else reading!

[sandalaris]

10 for 10 for 10

I’ve been tagged by @yossariandawn Thanks for thinking of me! and for all the great questions! (and sorry it took so long. I had a hard time thinking of 10 questions of my own.)

Answer 10 questions, ask 10 questions, tag 10 people.

1. If you could learn a new skill instantly, what would you choose? I’m not sure. I think that if it’s a skill you really enjoy than taking the time to learn becomes part of the enjoyment, so it’d have to be a skill I either only kind of wanted or that I felt was a need over a want. Oo, MMA, good exercise and the ability to defend myself or someone else if I ever need to, and it’s not something I feel really passionately about going through the process of learning.

2. What part of the world (that you’ve never been to) would you choose to live in for a month? Hyère, France. Don’t even have to think about it. About eight years ago I was planning a move and it was on the short list of places I was considering going to. The climate seemed the most ideal to what I wanted to live in and all the pictures were beautiful. 

3. Favorite kind of sandwich or wrap? Grilled cheese? I don’t like sandwiches (or wraps) typically.

4. Show swap! Bring back 3 shows you love, but you also have to choose 3 you like to cancel instead. Oo, gotta think about this one. I don’t want to bring back a show that was already past its peak and I don’t want to say to cancel a show that isn’t ready to end.

Cancel: (I stuck only with shows that I watch and enjoy so I’m not digging at any show just because it’s not my personal preference)

NCIS – I love the show, seen every last episode and will continue watching it until the end, but it’s time for it to wrap up. It well past its prime.

Lucifer – Listen, I love this show, and there’s a ton of great characters and material here to make a long running series, but they have started going in circles with it and that’s making it feel old. How many times can the same characters learn the same lessons before it just feels like the writers are just forcing things back into the same ol’ mold? Let the story grow or move on.

Shameless – It’s a stretch because the finale season has already been declared, but it’s a show that I don’t really need that finale season, even if I will watch and enjoy it, because it’s reached its natural end.

Bring back:

From Dusk till Dawn: the series – I debated on this one. It wrapped everything up so nicely and I’m quite happy with how it ended, but at the same time the writers had plans for the next season and it was never officially cancelled and there’s so much more story that could be told.

Firefly – Although it’s been enough time that it might have to be more of a reboot maybe? Or are we doing the impossible and it’s coming back shortly after it was canceled? Either way, that show was cancelled way too soon.

The Gifted – Yes, it was a bit cheesy but it’s just as good, if not better than, a lot of the comicbook shows still going AND it ended on a cliffhanger. It needed to continue

5. What fandom would you want to get into, but haven’t yet? I don’t know. I feel like I don’t exactly pick my fandoms. I start watching a show or go see a movie or read a book and then if I feel like looking up fandom stuff after I do.  

6. What show or movie do you watch to cheer you up? Probably Community. It’s a good show that has that nice balance of being a ridiculous comedy, but not too silly at the same time. And it hits so many of my favorite tropes. (Leverage could also count.)

7. Favorite condiments? ….salt? That’s technically a seasoning, but I am not a condiment fan. They are mostly gross and just cover up the flavor the food with their grossness.

8. What characters (from different universes) do you think would love hanging out together? Pick as many as you want. I wrote for fun a Kisa (FDtD) and Troy (Community) scene and discovered I really like them interacting (there was other people in the scene, but they stole all my attention in a matter of moments). They connected in a weird way and I loved writing Kisa’s bizarre and confused reactions to Troy. Britta (Community) and Richie (FDtD) would get along well I think. They’d click in that odd way that Richie has with random people and Britta would be a little too oblivious to Richie’s more social flaws/creepy nature, as is her way when it comes to guys with even the tiniest bit of charm and intelligence. Not gonna lie, I kind of ship them now.

I would also put Shawn from Psych with the entire Leverage crew. Sophie is the only one I feel would find him a bit much at times, mainly because she can spot a grift a mile away and Shawn’s kind of always “on” and think it would mess with her trust issues too much for her to be entirely comfortable around him. Nate sees his potential, especially if Shawn’s been brought in to help on a job, and the guy is ultimately one of the Good Guys, and he would go a long way to helping put Sophie at ease. Because Nate’s too smart to be taken in by someone like Shawn and Sophie wouldn’t feel like she’s the only one who sees him for the conartist he is. Eliot would groan and grumble for show, but in the end Shawn’s like a combination of  his two favorite people in the world; Parker and Hardison. Plus, I headcanon Shawn and Eliot as cousins. I think Hardison might find Shawn a little too like himself to ever be best buddies with the guy, but overall they’d get along just fine. As for Parker... I feel like they’d be almost like two kids on the playground who both found out they like the same obscure cartoon none of the other kids have seen. 

I have a little headcanon about Parker (Leverage) and Clint Barton (MCU) having been in the same foster home as kids and having this kind of a past-sibling-esque connection. I like to think that with both their careers they don’t meet up often, but whenever they realize they are in the same place at the same time, it’s a given that they’ll hang out while there.

My roommate keeps yelling over my shoulder Starlord and Micheal (from the movie starring John Travolta) until I agreed to put them. They would get along in a weird sort of fun way that would be fun to watch but hard to be a part of, but since I haven’t see that movie since I was a kid it’s not one I think of.

9. What’s the most underrated show or movie or book or artist that you love and people should really check out?

Ilona Andrews is an amazing author and more people should check their works out. But the most underrated show I think I’ve ever gotten into… honestly would probably be From Dusk till Dawn. I feel like most of my followers are at least aware of it though because I post enough about it, but it was just really good and sort of cut off before its time. A really close second would be Leverage. It’s still the number one show I recommend when people ask me and I just adore it to pieces.

10. What were you obsessed with as a kid?

So many things, but probably Jasmine from Disney’s Aladdin the most. Pretty sure I named more than one stuffed animal after her.

My questions:

1.      What was your first fandom? Are you still a part of it?

2.      Current self care method(s)?

3.      What are three (3) shows you keep meaning to binge watch but haven’t yet?

4.      Do you stay active in fandoms after a new one catches your eye, or are you more a one at a time person?

5.      What was the last movie you saw with someone else? What would you rate it?

6.      Favorite guilty pleasure?

7.      What’s a highly underrated show/movie/book series that you would recommend?

8.      Any new hobbies you’ve started during quarantine? Any you want to start?

9.      What meme do you wish would just die already?

10.  Spread the love to your followers and post at least one link to a fic you’re reading/have read/wish to read/you’ve written yourself/etc. 

I tag: @shyesplease @valeskaj @ithoughtiwasflying @c-sand @mygutsforgarters @bethanyactually @crystallinee-waters @evanberries @nevergonnabemuchmorethanweather @katwithlove and anyone else who wants to do answer! Seriously, I love having people respond even if I didn’t tag someone. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #284

“mama, we’re all full of lies / mama, we’re meant for the flies”

When was the last time you changed a lightbulb? About a month or so back I had to change Venus’ heat lamp. Who was the last person you sent an e-mail to? I emailed my older sister the OneDrive link to her holiday pictures I did. When was the last time you visited the dentist? What about the optician? It’s been quite a few months since I went to the dentist for a normal cleaning. I haven’t seen an eye doctor in around a year or so because it’s a less pressing matter, and we can’t afford to buy me new glasses anyway. I desperately need them. Do you sleep on your side, your back or your front? My side, stomach, or like a contortion of both. Would you rather drive or be the passenger? Let me be shotgun controlling the music and I’m set for a long ride. When was the last time you received a handwritten letter? Sara sent me one I think two years ago for my birthday. If you have pets, do you buy them gifts for Christmas or their birthdays? Ha, yes. We don’t know either’s exact birthday though, so we don’t really “celebrate” those. Do you know how to ride a bike? How about ride a skateboard? A bike, yeah. I don’t know how to skateboard, though. Did you get enough sleep last night? How much sleep is enough sleep for you? No. I don’t even know what “enough sleep” is. I’m always tired. What are your favourite condiments? Do you use those often? Ketchup and honey mustard probably top the list, considering they’re the ones I use most. Peanut butter: crunchy or smooth? Do you have a favorite brand? I trust no one who can enjoy crunchy peanut butter. I like Skippy quite a bit. Do you have any life-threatening allergies? No. Have you had to take a COVID test yet? Was it positive or negative? I haven’t needed to take one. Do you think it’s okay to keep cats indoors for their entire lives? They SHOULD be. Cats are very destructive and disruptive predators of once-stable environments. They fuck up the food chain and have done a lot of damage to native populations. This is coming from a person whose house was an absolute NEST for cats to the point they were taken away. They lived outside, and I can only imagine the harm they really caused. Of course, as a kid, I didn’t understand this, but as an educated and experienced adult when it comes to this subject, it’s saddening to look back on. Please, keep your cats inside. AND FIXED. Hence our cat empire lmao. Do you think people should need a license in order to keep animals, just to make sure they knew how to properly take care of them? That would actually be LOVELY. If only. Not that it would entirely prevent illegal ownership, but I like to think most people are law-abiding citizens… Which meal of the day is your favorite? What’s your favorite thing to eat for that meal? BREAKFAST! Cinnamon rolls just gotta top the list. When was the last time you bounced on a trampoline? Would you ever want to go to one of those indoor trampoline parks? It has to have been so, so many years. My knees could NEVER take that now. I’m not interested in that. What’s your favorite thing to put on a baked potato? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits… yum. Have you ever made money selling stuff online? What was it you were selling? I don’t think so, at least not successfully. Do you have a valid passport? When was the last time you used it? No. What was the last song you sung along to? I’m unsure. I rarely sing along to songs. What was the last piece of fruit you ate? What about the last vegetable? Fruit: apple. Vegetable: ummm I’m actually unsure. Probably broccoli. Have you ever lied to the police or a customs official? Were you ever found out? No. Are you much of a procrastinator, or would you rather get things out of the way so you can relax? I am a HEAVY procrastinator. When was the last time you took an exam of any kind? I don’t know. Probably not since I was in school. What snacks/drinks from your childhood do you wish they still made? Ah man, I know there’s some… just too many to dig through to try and remember. Are you a fan of techno? Yeah, sometimes. Who's your favorite horror movie villain/monster? I don’t particularly like one over the other. What's an 'obsession' of yours that most people would find odd or amusing? Probably how much I love Mark, given that being a “fangirl” is usually seen as juvenile. What's the sweetest thing another person has said or done for you? Probably Colleen letting me live with her while I was homeless for a month or two. Said to me, actually from Colleen’s sister; I was having a crying episode over Jason and she just grabbed my head and told me with such passion that I was so beautiful, strong, and deserved the world. Safe to say I started crying more lmao but at least it wasn’t from sadness. What's the absolute best feeling in the world? Being in love. Does the person you have feelings for know you feel that way? Yeah. Do you like Tim Burton? Um, duh. How do you feel about hypnotism? I don’t believe it works. It’s just the power of suggestion. How do you feel about Pink Floyd? I’m not a big fan, but I like some songs. What’s your preferred way of keeping fit? Is it something you make time to do on a regular basis? You assume I AM fit… but I really am trying to change that with WiiFit again, once the living room is cleaned up. I plan to insert it into my morning routine. Have you ever raised a puppy? Would you want to or would you prefer to adopt an adult rescued dog? Yes, Teddy. Right now I don’t want another dog, but hypothetically, I’d absolutely go for an adult rescue. Who was the last person to come to your house? Were they an expected visitor? My younger sister. Yes. If you work, is your job the same everyday, or does it vary depending on what you have on? N/A Would you ever be interested in owning your own business? Why or why not? Well, I want to be a freelance photographer, so… It’s not off the ground enough for me to *officially* call it a business, but while it’s absolutely so exciting to picture, it’s also very anxiety-inducing, the idea of it (hopefully) getting to that point since I’m dumb as fuck in regards to business stuff. Do you have your driver’s license? If so, did you find it easy or difficult to learn and pass your test? Ugh, I don’t. I need it so badly, I know, but right now, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because my vision is too bad to possibly pass that part, and I can’t afford to see an eye doctor + get a new prescription. If you have pets, how often do you buy them new treats and toys? Venus is a snake, so… yeah, lol. She needs a bigger terrarium, though, but a 40 gallon is expensive. Roman gets a new toy every now and then, but he doesn’t play with them as much anymore. If you had to work a job that required you to do shifts, would you rather work the early, late or night shift? Early. Get it over with. Do you have a favorite type of survey to take? Yeah; I like the ones that make me think or are just questions I definitely haven’t seen before but are also interesting. Some random questions are way too specific to apply to most people. On a typical day, how long do you spend out of the house? Even before the pandemic, usually zero time. Do you live in a close-kit community? Well we’re the new family on the block, so it’s hard to tell quite yet. People were welcoming, though. Do you have a vlog? NOOOOOOOOOO. If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? No, I would feel WAY too fuckin awkward. Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? AM. What are your favorite YouTube channels to watch? The whole world knows Markiplier is my true favorite channel, but lately I’ve really been digging pet (particularly reptile or tarantula) channels, Snake Discovery in specific. I’ve been bingeing the fuck outta them. I’ve officially become the “I know more than you” Petco meme lmao. Which relative(s) do you look the most like? Idk. Have you ever watched a live birth video? FUCK no. I never would. That could be so fucking scarring to middle school kids, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never understood why they show them in a lot of health classes. Have you ever given birth? Fuck to the no; never plan to, either. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Nah. Have you ever worn overalls? Ugh, as a kid. They’re so hideous to me now. If you’re a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I was in the 6th grade, so 11-12. Is your mom mentally stable? I mean she has depression, but otherwise, yeah. What color hair did your first crush have? I can’t really remember who my first crush was with certainty… but I think I might. If I’m right, blond. What was the name of your first crush? ^ in minds, I think Aaron. Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? Doesn’t ring a bell. Do you remember your first email address? Haha, yeah, it’s still my current one… Did you name your Lego characters? I was more of a Lincoln Logs kid. Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? Both. If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse? I’d probably be dead without at least my mood stabilizers. Have you ever had a bag stolen? I don’t believe so. Who was your best friend in high school? Hannia. What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Ha, no books or movies, I think, but remember King Ramses from that episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog? Oh, trust me, I HAD NIGHTMARES. What song makes you cry? The most, probably “Eternally Yours” by Motionless In White. I physically cannot listen to it. Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Maybe Mom? Idk. How many teachers have you had crushes on? None. Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? I actually don’t remember? I don’t think we had any male Barbies, and of course as a little kid raised in the South especially, I didn’t even realize homosexuality was a thing, so we never considered the girls dating. Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? ^ How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. Do you have scars from self-harm? No, they’re long faded and were thankfully never very severe. Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? Yep, it gradually turned brown. Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? We’re the same height. Would you ever consider adopting a child? I don’t want kids, period. The only possible case I see is being a stepmom, but even then I can’t visualize me being one to an actual kid-kid. Just like, maybe a mid-teen and above. Do you trim your own hair? No. What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? I’m very surprised that I don’t remember many at all. I know I was a witch multiple times. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? I adored almost every pet my family has ever had. Our first was a stray cat named Chance we took in. INCREDIBLE animal. What color was your nursery? I have zero clue. Do you exercise regularly? Ugh, no, but I genuinely plan on changing that once the living room is cleaned up and Mom moves into her room. I’m very serious about starting Wii Fit again. I WAS gonna start walking once we moved here, but I found I was too scared to alone. I’m way too paranoid. Do you have a healthy BMI? lol What photo editing software do you use? Lightroom, Photoshop, and very rarely PhotoScape if I’m being lazy with watermarking my photography. Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? Livestock, yeah. You pass cows all the time around here. If you’re in a more wooded area, you’ll find roadkill kinda frequently, sadly. Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? Rural. It’s the only thing that sucks about our new home – we’re in the suburbs. Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? Not 100%, really. If the day was truly awful, sometimes nothing helps. If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? I vent to my mom the most. What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? My room, and it’s by choice. The second room that I wanna make my “office” is still LOADED with stuff from moving. If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? I don’t want a garden. Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? It can take me very, very long. I dread lying down some nights just because I know I’ll be tossing and turning for a good while. If I’ve tried to sleep for a long time to no avail, I do what you shouldn’t do and get back on the laptop. Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? This depends on the animal and situation. I do believe some rescue cases are justified for the animal’s survival, but as the question mentions, you need to be able to provide adequately for it to be moral imo. I do NOT support exotic pet ownership for the average person. If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? I could never eat a “pet” animal, nor an animal hunted mostly for sport. Even in survival cases, I’d have a hard time eating a wild animal.

[laylacooke]

Tune Out the World || Winn & Layla

timing: Yesterday (5/24) afternoon at Tower Comics & Music. parties: @packsbeforesnacks & @laylacooke summary: The start of one wolf helping another wolf figure out life. warnings: Lots of mentions about mental health.

Alright, so, technically, Winn had never mentored a, what, teen wolf before, but he’d dealt with plenty of teen hockey players — and they acted like wolves, often enough. The Bite should be a gift. That was the mantra that César and the others had drilled into his head. But not every Bite was freely received, nor even wanted. And that resentment, that anger, it could eat you up, if you let it. Which brought Winn to Tower Comics & Music. One of the staffers, Mat or somethin’, had set him up in one of their practice rooms, after some charm and the promise of buyin’ out half the store, if need be, and it was just big enough (and, importantly, just private enough) to work for Winn’s plan. He set the guitar he’d been stringing aside and went out into the main shop to keep an eye out for Layla, picking at the odd back issue of Superman. Comics were hard for him to read, now, given the color-blindness, but he still had the odd spot of nostalgia for the brightly colored heroes. He shot off a final confirmation text to Layla and waited.

Layla had received Winn’s texts. To say she was a bit confused was an understatement, and she had wondered if Ariana or Ulf had persuaded him to take her under his wing, or paw, but regardless, she had reluctantly given in and was headed to Tower Comics & Music. It seemed to have been the popular meeting place for Layla and new wolves in her life. Pushing the door open, she slipped inside, her mind quickly going back to the day she met Simon and how she had freaked out when she first smelled him. Even though it didn’t seem like it, she had come a long way since then. Seeing Winn standing near a box of comics, she quietly walked over, “Hey.” She waved to the man with the hand that had still been dressed out in a cast, “Sorry, I’m late. I was helping Ari with something.”

Ah, right, the hand. Mm. Could still strum, right? Probably. Looked like the kinda gal that wouldn’t let a broken hand get the best of her. Winn smiled at the teen. “Hey, no sweat. I haven’t been here too long.” A small lie. He’d spent the better part of an hour settin’ up. But, in fairness, most of that was before the time they’d set to meet up. “Let’s go on back,” he said, waving her forward and towards the practice room. “I figured somethin’ nice and quiet would be a decent change of pace. Plus, you’re gettin’ a free lesson out of it! A wolf lesson and a guitar lesson.” He laughed at his own dumb joke. Once the door was shut behind him, he sat in his own chair, across from the only other seat. “First thing’s first, somethin’ that one of my mentors made us do. It’s, well, a check in? Like, “I’m checking in… calm, today. The sun is out and I’m about to play guitar and my week has been pretty chill, so… calm. Now, you try.”

She had hoped he hadn’t. The task with Ariana had taken a little longer than expected, so when she caught sight of what time it was, it had almost sent her into a slight panic. However, no sooner than she was there, they were already heading to the back. She had never played a guitar before, but she had always been interested in them. Asking for one for her birthday had turned out to be a mistake, but a good one, because ironically, it’s how she had gotten her bow instead. Layla shot Winn a small smile as she followed him back into the room. Taking the seat opposite of him, she settled in as best she could. It was the ‘check in’ request she hadn’t expected, and when it was her turn, Layla paused for a moment, before speaking, “Uh, I’m checking in... depressed today. I’m bull-shitting everyone around me into thinking I’m feeling better, when I’m actually not, and I’m about to poorly play a guitar with a cast on my hand that’s never going to heal. Like that?” She looked at him with a straight face.

Winn barked out a laugh, before quickly saying, before baby wolf could think he was laughin’ at her: “Honesty is good. That’s exactly it, yeah, you’ve got the hang of it! Checkin’ in ain’t about forcin’ yourself to feel any one which way, but really takin’ the time to ask yourself how you’re feelin’, without worryin’ about how anyone else might take it. Thank you for bein’ honest with me, forreal.” He glanced at her hand, appraisin’ it with a trained eye. “Naw, that’ll be healed up ‘fore the next Moon, prolly before we have our next lesson. So long as you’re takin’ your vitamins.” He realized he hadn’t really given her the pitch for this experiment, and backtracked. “Well, next lesson… dependin’ on how today goes, anyway. I’m a little rusty, but teachin’ is the best way to show you know your shit and I’ve got just a stupid amount of time on my hands. I figure, you get time to just be who you are, and not worry ‘bout worryin’ anybody, we both get some time with the guitar, I teach you some wolf lessons along the way, eventually we lead a nice ol’ bonfire jamboree.” He winked at the last bit, to let her know that no public performance would be required of what amounted to informal therapy. “So, ‘m sorry we didn’t get off on quite the right foot, Layla. I’m Winn, and I’ll be your guitar-slash-wolf guru today.”

Layla hadn’t expected the laugh, which caused her to raise an eyebrow, before he explained himself. Winn had reminded her of one of the football players she knew in high school. He was laid back and had a cool persona that probably put most people to ease, and while she had felt a little more relaxed than she had when she first came in, she still wasn’t fully trusting of Winn. It would take her a little while to warm up to him as it did when she hung out with Lucas for the first time, “So do I just tell you how I’m feeling like every time we meet?” She could do that. Acknowledge her feelings. It couldn’t be that hard could it? “I think Ulf said he could get me some.” If vitamins would help her hand heal, she would take the damn things again. Listening as he continued to explain the goal of today’s meet up, she shifted in her chair a bit. Guitar-wolf guru. Okay. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Winn. And if you think I can play a guitar with this stupid thing on my hand then teach away.” She gave him a soft, sad smile. This was going to be interesting.

“Exactamundo,” Winn said. “I swear that I’ll be honest with you, so long as you try to be honest with me. I’ll go first, too, so you can see right away if I’m bullshittin’ you. Though, if y’ever want to start off, just let me know. I’m flexible.” He could sense the tension in Layla’s form, and he didn’t blame her. Some things, you kept to yourself, until you were ready. He wasn’t going to ask her to tell him anything, not unless she wanted to. But he’d always lend an ear to whatever she wanted to offer. If she was honest, well… That was more than some could be. “It’s a good way to get things you need, ‘specially while healin’. Your body needs nutrients to really heal, same as when you were human. Couldn’t hurt to triple whatever it says on the bottle, though. You’ll, shit what’s the word, metabolize it all away? Whatever diet you keep, make sure that you’re getting in calories, vitamins, and minerals. Like, I don’t know, a really intense workout plan.” 

He settled into playing position, strumming out a random chord. “Mmm, before we get to playin’, I want to show you somethin’.” Winn reached over his own guitar and to a plastic bag that was sitting between them. “This? Is just a fraction of the amount of strings you’re gonna snap.” He played another chord. “Control is difficult to master. We tried a bunch of different things, to get me to figure it out. Only thing that seemed to work was this. Changin’ a guitar string ain’t too bad, but try doin’ it a hundred times and you’ll calm down real fast. Every time one of us breaks a string, we’re going to restring it by hand. Your hands can do so much, good and bad. But right now, early on? You aren’t used to them, how they feel as a wolf. How you feel things, as a wolf.” He shook his head, pausing for a moment. “Stop me if this is a little long-winded, it’s all important, but I can try to condense.”

“I appreciate that. I mean I feel like I’ve been open with people, like Ari and Ulf…” to an extent, “but I guess talking feelings is okay…” Layla had been honest about things. Of course, there were also a lot of things about her past that she stayed quiet on, especially when it came to her parents and how they had treated her. But she would save that for another day. She had only really just met Winn, and while he, too, was a werewolf, there were still things that made her uneasy. Not only had her parents wanted her out of the picture, but so had other werewolves, especially those around the Appalachian area, who knew the tale of the Hunter child turned werewolf. “I was a cheerleader in high school, and I was on a pretty strict diet. Is that what I need to go back to?” She wanted to equate this with something she knew. She had constantly found herself hungry, aside from the depression that had sent her into a downward spiral with her mood. In fact, it was a miracle she had even agreed to meet Winn in the first place. 

However, the strum of a single chord made her ears perk. She was interested. His method for helping her had been so unexpected that she wanted to know more. She had never had time to pick up a guitar when she was still normal, whatever that meant, but now that she could feel everything in her small body raging, she was finally getting to try something her parents had denied her. Glancing down at the bag, Layla found herself slightly intimidated, “That’s a lot of strings. Are you sure you want to put this much time into me? Because, if I’m being honest, I’ll probably triple that amount before we’re even a month into this…” She wanted to give him an out. Would it hurt? Yes, but it was better than the teenager investing her time, and more importantly her heart, into whatever was about to happen, only to potentially be let down yet again.

“Mmm,” he hummed, tilting his head. Winn didn’t expect Layla to open up to him easily, or quickly. But the teenager’s hesitation, her trailing voice, when talkin’ about feelings was, honestly, a solid place to start — she would try. That was her decision. Winn was a fan of takin’ your destiny into your own hands. Layla had her autonomy ripped from her by Salva. There were things she could do, big and small, to regain that sense. Agreeing to work with Winn was a choice, one that he would honor for as long as he could, as long as she wanted to. If this didn’t work, well… They’d find somethin’ else. “I play hockey,” he decided on. “Your body builds muscle, now, easier, carbo-loading can be good to just keep it functionin’, exercise helps, but, unlike some stricter diets, this one works best by lettin’ yourself go a little bit, just piggin’ out. Make sure to eat decent, don’t get me wrong, but eat. ‘Specially while you’re healin’. Don’t know if you’ve been ‘round Luke much while he’s been healin’ up, but he could eat Ronald McDonald himself out of a company.” 

He frowned softly, not knowing how much money that Layla had. “And I know buyin’ food can be pricey, and I think I can safely say that all of us would rather you focus on the adjustment than goin’ out and workin’ your ass to the bone. So, gimme a list. Nothin’ is too extravagant. And I’ll set up an InstaCart or somethin’ for you. No arguments, ‘s the least I can do.” He smiled, toothy, at Layla’s attempts to wriggle out; he knew that self-sabotage anywhere. “Naw, Baby Wolf, I already paid the guy at the counter to order me a goddamn truckload of strings. Little weirded out, but I sure as shit ain’t gonna go through them all by myself. Between that and that,” he pointed to the guitar he’d bought for Layla, “I’m in it for the long haul. If you are.”

Food wasn’t exactly something Layla was a fan of at the moment, but she would make it work. If eating and taking her vitamins meant that the cast on her arm would come off sooner rather than later, she would follow his instructions. And Ariana had already been doing a good job at making sure she was fed. Of course, that too had made her feel less of a person, because she wasn’t currently capable of mentally taking care of herself. Somehow, everything she had suppressed over the years, had started to come to the surface, and it was making a fresh start at a new life nearly impossible.

Money had been another issue. She had already racked up a hefty ‘I owe you’ bill just within the past few weeks, and her mental list was getting muddled. Of course, having Winn offer up buying her groceries gave her mixed feelings. On one hand, she wanted to accept and be grateful for them, but on the other hand her pride and the feeling of, once again, not being able to take care of herself seemed to dig at her. But instead of rejecting his offer, she gave in, “I’ll text it to you, and I’ll keep it short. And as I’ve told Ariana and everyone else, I’m paying you back.” If she’d still had access to her family’s fortune, she wouldn’t have been in this mess, but that was an impossible feat.

It was the guitar that really got to her though. Winn had bought her a guitar, and he barely even knew her. Looking over to the beautifully made instrument, tears started to well up in her eyes. Reaching over for it, she picked it up with care and pulled it in front of her. The teenager let her hands slowly pass over it, before sitting it in her lap and strumming the strings carefully. She had wanted a guitar since she was a child, but her mother and father would never buy her one, and within a day, someone she had only met in passing purchased one for her and was willing to teach her how to play, and, more importantly, how to tame what was raging inside of herself.

Letting her eyes move back to Winn, she spoke softly, “You just gave me something my parents never saw fit to give me. Consider me in.”

Winn cocked his head to the side, wondering whether, or not, to push the issue of money. His inheritance… He had a complex relationship with it. His mother, bless her heart, had tried to keep it from him, until he had graduated college. His grandfather hadn’t had the foresight, though, to know what exactly would become of his grandson. (All the better; Winn barely knew the guy. No time to interrogate a ghost whose opinion mattered little to him.) He settled on, “Keep it short, and I’ll triple everything. You’ll waste shit, and I know neither of us want that.”

She was, in no way, shape, or form, going to be payin’ him back, but she didn’t need to know that.

“It’s yours and only yours, alright?” Winn said, a small smile playing at his lips. He didn’t want to let his sunny attitude run over the confession Layla had given him, but this was something he genuinely loved. His altruism wasn’t without benefits; he loved the look on someone’s face when their heart was full. It let Winn see a different side of Layla, a far cry from that night in his basement. If she stuck with it, he knew exactly what to get her for her birthday.

He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started!”

[admin-in-residence]

Happy Birthday...Sabo and Law

Request: Sabo and Law surprising their S/O with something they had been really wanting, but too shy to ask for.

Quick note: OMG this is just such a cute request! I also went with she/her/female pronouns due to the specific requests details. If needed, I can adjust to gender neutral...

Sabo

Sabo had been counting down the days until your birthday pretty much since the very moment you told him.

It seemed as if your boyfriend was more excited then you were for your own birthday.

As the day’s grew closer, Sabo would verbally announce them regardless who was listening.

During training with Koala, Sabo had stopped in the middle of a session just to announce out loud that there was only a mere 7 day’s till your birthday...

At dinner one night in the middle of talking to Dragon, Sabo had been reporting something he had seen, and just put a random 5 in there...when Dragon asked what the number had to do with the report, Sabo just smiled and said that there were only 5 more days until your birthday.

Then there were 4, which he announced out loud to the entire breakfast table the next day, which you promptly tried to tell him to quiet down, not wanting to draw the attention to yourself.

But upon the very third day, as Koala and him were walking through a little town, Koala had Sabo stop at a small shop.

“I just saw the most perfect thing for Y/N for their birthday!” She exclaimed happily, making the purchase.

But Sabo, turned white as a ghost, Koala asked him what had him so nervous all of a sudden.

Despite all of the excitement, Sabo hadn’t even thought about what he would even gift to you...there wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t get for you...but it had to be the most perfect thing...

Sabo spent the rest of the third day making a list in his mind...maybe some flowers? No...there were enough flowers in the garden...or maybe some sort of special food? No...there would be plenty of food that was already planned for your party...

Sabo spent the 2nd day before your birthday, moping over the fact that none of his ideas were good enough...what could he get the most perfect person in his world that would be perfect enough for them?

Finally, the day before your birthday, Sabo and you had the chance to relax, Sabo was lounging around upon your bed while you dug through your closet.

Your party was tomorrow and Ivankov had declared that it would be a strictly formal event...which was completly fine because there had been a special dress you had found while shopping with Koala, but one look at the price tag had you walking the other derection...and you knew as much as Sabo loved to treat you...you just couldn’t ask him for the dress, it just didn’t sit right with you.

A soft sigh drew Sabo’s attention and he tilted his hat up out of his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Y/N...” He asked you frowning as you continued to rummage through your closet, “Your birthdays tomorrow you should be excited!”

You laughed at his own excitement at your birthday.

“I know, I know...i’m just having a little trouble picking something out for the party tomorrow...” You admitted shyly.

“There shouldn’t be any trouble at all!” Sabo gaped, “Your the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen!”

You blushed and gave a nervous chuckle, mumbling under your breath about how you should have saved up some more money for that dress instead of spending it on something else.

Although you hadn’t noticed, Sabo had heard every word...

There was something that you had wanted...and hadn’t asked him, which could only mean that he would have to find what you wanted and gift it to you...all in a matter of less then 24 hours.

Just as you turned to ask Sabo about an outfit you had picked out, you heard the door slam shut and you realized Sabo had left already.

Confused, you merely turned back around to dig through your closet once more.

The very first stop Sabo made was to Ivankov, he figured since you and him planned the party together (As much as everyone wanted to surprise you, you didn’t want anyone to go overboard) perhaps he had heard or talked to you about the mystery dress.

He didn’t get very far, as Ivankov hadn’t heard anything about you wanting a new dress.

So he moved on, spotting Koala he eagerly called out to her.

When he asked about the mystery dress, Koala took a second to think before remembering you taking a shine to a pretty dress at a shop in town.

Koala didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye as Sabo ran out in pursuit of his perfect gift. Nor did she have the chance to even explain which dress you had liked...

Sabo arrived at the shop Koala had spoken about and quickly took in the fact that this was an extremely feminine shop...there was jewelry and makeup, and dresses all around him.

Sabo felt a bit deflated...how would he know which dress you had liked...he hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out...he could risk returning to find Koala, but the shop may close by the time he got back.

So, Sabo began shifting through the racks like every other customer in there.

Customers came and went, all confused by the young man searching through every rack.

As Sabo worked through each rack, he couldn’t find any dress that you may have even thought about...this dress was too short, that dress was to long, the next was too colorful, and the next wasn’t colorful enough.

Sabo had nearly given up hope when the old lady running the shop came up to him to announce that they would be closing in a few moments...not only had he failed to find your dress, he had wasted an entire day not being by your side.

Feeling defeated, Sabo tipped his hat at the old lady preparing to leave.

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for that young women’s dress would you...”

The old lady explained to Sabo in great detail how you and Koala had came into the shop and browsed around, however the only dress you had fallen for in her shop was a specially made dress made by the old lady herself.

“I was inspired by the blooming flowers that come around once a year...the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

When Sabo heard the description the lady gave of the dress he knew it was exactly one you would pick.

“I took it down as I had priced it a tad bit high and nobody seemed to be buying it, but you can have it for your precious girl-”

Sabo didn’t even let her finish before offering to pay the full amount, anything to get his hands on the dress you so desperatly wished for.

The old lady stopped herself but agreed, happily wrapping the present up so Sabo could bring it back to gift to you.

As Sabo happily walked out of the shop, the old shop keeper gave a smirk counting the beli she had made.

“Poor soul...I was going to offer it to him for free since he was so adament in taking it back...but I can’t deny a full payment...”

Sabo carefully laid the present on your bedside table as he get ready to sleep, happily climbing into bed with you and holding you in his arms, you already asleep.

The next morning, as you woke up, you realized Sabo had returned late, his grip tight in his sleep.

You laughed and turned around to face him, the slight movement waking your boyfriend.

He gave you a quick kiss, wishing you a happy birthday.

As the two of you got around, having slept late without anyone waking you on your birthday, you realized you still hadnt picked out an outfit for your party. But a shiny nicely wrapped present on your table caught your attention.

Sabo saw your eyes land on his gift to you and he smirked.

“Go ahead and open it darling.” He said.

You gave a shy smile, unwrapping the carefully wrapped parcel.

When your fingers fell upon the soft silky layers of fabric your mouth hung open. The dress that you had wanted...was right here?

You pulled it out, hanging it up against you, before letting out a small laugh and twirling around.

Sabo smiiled fondly seeing you get so excited over his gift...

Mission accomplished!

Shortly before the party, Sabo waiting at your door, when you stepped out to greet him, his own mouth hung open.

The dress was delicate and beautiful. The flower pattern soft and suttle and the sweet pastel colors hade your own skin glow.

You blushed seeing your boyfriend’s reaction but both of you were thinking the exact same thing...

Mission accomplished.

Law

You had joined the Heart Pirates a little under a year ago, shortly after your birthday...and you had been in a relationship with your Captain for a little under a year as well.

However, you hadn’t celebrated a birthday with your new friends, and boyfriend and with your shy personality Law had decreed that perhaps it would be best if they planned your party on what you were comfortable with instead of whatever Penguin, Shachi and Bepo, (The Heart Pirate’s Officially Unofficial Party Planning Crew otherwise known as the HPOUPP.) felt would be best...

So you had been assisting the three crew members for the past week about what your party should entail.

You had decided on picking a nice island and having a small party amongst your crewmates and friends. Enjoying some good food, friendship, and Law.

Of course you had opted to do something other then cakes and cupcakes, not wanting to have anything to closely related to bread in favor of your boyfriends unfavorable food.

So now, docked at the final island before setting sail for your party destination, a nice summer island that seemed to be uninhabited, Law was left strolling the streets in a final attempt to find something worthy for you.

Although you had strictly set guidelines regarding any form of gifts, Law was the Captain, therefore he could overrule your rules and find a suitable gift for his beloved girlfriend.

But what could he get for one of the sweetest people he had ever met?

Law let out a long sigh, and began to turn back to head back to the ship in defeat when he heard a few familiar voices.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to buy that scarf?” That voice was Bepo, Law recognized as he peeked around the corner. You and the Bear were walking back in the direction of the ship, your face while smiling at the bear was solemn, clearly unhappy with whatever decision you had just made.

“It’s fine Bepo...it was way too much money anyways, and that shop keeper didn’t seem very willing to part ways with it. Besides, were running low on a few bits of medical supplies and It’s more important to stock up.”

“You should ask the Captain then!” Bepo said, “You know he would do anything for you...besides then the two of you could match!”

Law heard you laugh at the comment, taking cover behind the building as you and Bepo passed by.

“That’s sweet...but I can’t ask Law...he already has done so much for me, it would’t be right to expect him to buy me anything I would want...” Y/N explained.

Oh no...that didn’t sit well with Law.

It was his job to get any and everything you wanted...and he would be damned if he didn’t find this shop keeper selling scarves and demand it for his wonderful girlfriend.

Law searched around the street you and Bepo had been walking on, not finding any sight of a shop keeper or street merchant selling scarves.

But with keen eyes, Law spotted a man, a few feet away holding a small scarf ring...he wasn’t a shop owner, he was just selling things on the street.

Moving closer, Law spotted the scarf you must have been talking about...a silky white scarf, the ends having spots like his own beloved hat...so thats what Bepo had meant about matching with one another.

“How much.” Law said, pointing to the scarf.

The man, clearly cocky and arragont had been serving two ladies offering his various wares and frowned at the arrival.

“What. You a collector o’ something?” The man scoffed looking at the hat.

“My money doesn’t pay for you to ask questions.” Law frowned. “How much for the scarf.”

The man wasn’t happy with the attitude. Clearly he didn’t have much customer service skills, and obviously he had been rude to his girlfriend for her to mention it.

Therefore Law was left with one last choice...time for the devil fruit.

Miraculously, Law ended up with both his money and the scarf, and the seller managed to keep his life.

A few day’s later upon your birthday, Law approached you in the midst of your party, asking to pull you away for a few minutes.

Requesting you to close your eye’s, Law carefully draped the scarf around your neck and asked you to open your eyes.

Watching your face slowly light up, the bright smile filling your face and the ways your eye’s lightened up exclaiming excitement and confusion and ‘how did you know’s made everything worth it.

Even if his arm did ache with how hard you had punched it for breaking your ‘no gifting’ rules...