#so he dressed in all black cus that made it easier

[wtowingedtragicobsidian]

This recent art is so funny b/c these idiots obviously picked out shirts for each other

The little group go shopping for some summer/vacation clothes. And Gojo, feeling restless, springs the idea on Geto, who picks out a shirt for him that tastefully compliments his eyes. Gojo meanwhile has scampered off in search of something goofy to put him in. Cackling as he watches Geto, who mistakenly was too earnest with his selection, as his face fills with realization. And then he’s grabbing at the blue shirt he handed over to try and swap it for something more befitting the idiot who just dupped him. Gojo simply bounces out of arms reach tells him no take-backsies~

Haibara encounters Gojo on his little mission while browsing and decides to join in on the fun. He finds Nanami shortly after, and gifts him the green shirt cus ‘he could use something livelier’ (than his normal emo wardrobe). And Nanami, initially confused, concedes and just silently hands Haibara the shirt he was looking to buy for himself. It ends up being a little big.  Shoko managed to escape the nonsense but may have been the person who planted the idea in Gojo’s head in the first place (she was trying to get him to stop insulting her fashion taste while she shopped).

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn 

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k 

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry... 

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile. 

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door. 

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck. 

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in. 

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me. 

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” 

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less. 

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.” 

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful. 

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying. 

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you. 

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled. 

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends. 

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them. 

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.” 

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves. 

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said. 

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression. 

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand. 

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups. 

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well. 

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked. 

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?” 

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long. 

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.  

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work. 

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria. 

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before. 

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated. 

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.” 

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought. 

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room. 

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food. 

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?” 

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you. 

“Project?” You ask. 

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass. 

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem. 

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays. 

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table. 

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms. 

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask. 

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled. 

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…” 

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms. 

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said. 

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara. 

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone. 

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids. 

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”  

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper. 

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria. 

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes. 

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called. 

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him. 

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you. 

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails. 

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room. 

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door. 

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room. 

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting? 

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair. 

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home. 

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.” 

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair. 

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo. 

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.” 

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting. 

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet. 

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said. 

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.” 

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.” 

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears. 

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands. 

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained. 

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next. 

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?” 

You felt your ears redden. 

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.” 

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”  

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next? 

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket. 

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you. 

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.” 

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.” 

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways. 

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression. 

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows. 

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence. 

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.” 

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after. 

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in. 

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face. 

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked. 

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears. 

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.” 

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness. 

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands. 

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.” 

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here. 

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office. 

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in. 

“Come in.” 

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up. 

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.” 

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you. 

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked. 

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

                                                         _______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone. 

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him. 

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.” 

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table. 

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. 

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?” 

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid. 

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up. 

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out. 

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss. 

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing. 

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought. 

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you. 

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up. 

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought. 

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table. 

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water. 

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you. 

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive. 

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm. 

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name? 

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled. 

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.” 

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?  

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others. 

Huh? Was this water? 

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.” 

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee. 

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer. 

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen? 

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said. 

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down. 

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.” 

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth. 

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.” 

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said. 

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder. 

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared. 

You dizzily nodded. 

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced. 

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?” 

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen. 

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down. 

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah —  I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?” 

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone. 

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.   

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off. 

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.” 

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building? 

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV. 

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times. 

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck. 

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s. 

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added. 

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you. 

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?” 

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought. 

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone. 

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message. 

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

[ipuckwithhockey]

Must Love Sleep- Travis Konecny

a/n: This grew out of a part I took out of I’d Rather Rescue Myself. I was going to change the boy, but I just had him in mind for this one. The sleep part might also be based on how I am when I get tired... but it might not be. hope you like it :)

warnings: this is pretty soft, just some cursing 

———— 

It was Friday night and Travis was going to be coming over soon before you would eventually head out. You were supposed to be meeting your friends at a local bar in an hour and you still had no clue what to wear.

You hear the door to your apartment open, and know that it’s Travis. (He has his own key for ‘emergences’ like when he lost his own apartment key and had yours from when he watered your plants while you were on a trip. You have no idea how any of it happened, but it’s TK so you weren’t even surprised and told him to just keep the key)

“Hey you ready in there?” Travis shouts as he walks through your apartment to your room. You walk out from your closet in your sweatpants and sweatshirt combo,

“No. I don’t know what to wear, and at this point I don’t even think I care, I’m going dressed like this.”

“First of all, you’re being dramatic. And second of all, even though you always look great, I don’t think they would even let you in dressed like that.”

You scoff as you make your way over to lay on your bed and he makes his way to your closet, you don’t miss the opportunity to take in how good he looks with his hat on backwards and a tight long sleeve— wait. You’re just friends. You can’t think about him like that. You can’t think about how you love when his hair curls up from under his hat at the gape of his neck— no.

You had tried dating, but it didn’t work. Your short lived fling was fun but because you were in your last year of school and he was busy with hockey you never had much time to actually be in a relationship. Neither of you had the time to dedicate to something so committed and your platonic friendship has been super strong for over a year. You were best friends, but that didn’t stop you from checking him out every once in a while, or even reminiscing on how good his lips had felt on yours nearly a year ago. But you were sure that he didn’t see you like that anymore, and you were trapped forever in the friend zone.

Your thoughts are interrupted when bunch of fabric hit your face.

“What the-“

“Wear that. You’ll look hot, I promise.”

You sit up to look at what he’s picked out for you and you’re actually impressed. He chose black skinny jeans, and a long sleeve body suit. He’s right. The jeans he picked out made your ass look great, and with the healed booties he had sat next to the bed your legs would look fantastic. The jumpsuit was simple but it would hug your body in the right places and was definitely more comfortable than the dress you were looking at before he arrived.

Travis left you to get ready and went to sit on your couch. When you came out your hair and makeup was done, and he mentally praised himself for putting together such a great ensemble. He selfishly picked out that specific pair of jeans. They were his favorite pair, and he knew they made your ass look amazing… Not that he was looking or anything. He had just happened to notice, and what are friends for if they can’t hype each other up about how great their ass looks?

“See. I was right, you do look hot. You ready to go?”

You nod and follow him out the door, and take note that he’s been a little more generous with the compliments lately. You think maybe he’s just being a good friend, hyping you up, but something about it just seemed like more.

——

By the end of the night your feet are killing you. You stopped drinking over an hour ago, so now all you want to do is go home and go to bed. You like having a good time just much as the next girl, but when you’re tired, your bed was the only thing that would satisfy you.

It wasn’t uncommon for Travis to stick around you for most the night, but the subtle hand on your back and the leaning in when you went to talk to each other felt different tonight. If you weren’t so tired you may mull that over a bit more but instead you brush it off as you lean over to let Travis know you’re ready to head home, “Hey, I’m tired. And my feet hurt.”

“Ok, we can go, let me just get an Uber.”

“You don’t have to leave if you’re still having a good time, I just wanted to let you know I’m probably not staying much longer.” You mean what you say, but you secretly hope that he decides to come with you. Usually when you end up going home together at the end of the night Travis will just stay with you instead of trekking back to his place. There was never any funny business, but having him in your bed just felt right.

“No, I’m tired too, I’m ready to get home,” Travis’ tone sounds casual and he’s hoping he doesn’t seem too eager to take you home. He just can’t help it. He’s regretted telling you that he just wanted to be friends ever since he let it slip out. He just didn’t want to end up hurting you when he couldn’t be there for you. However, that didn’t stop him from relishing in staying in your bed every blue moon when he’d take you home after a late night out.

——

You’re walking around your room and bathroom getting ready to go to sleep. Travis would normally just plop himself down on your bed, but he was just standing there watching you move around your room. 

Really, he was just admiring how beautiful you were without your makeup on, and how cute you looked in your oversized flyers shirt that you wore to bed. You looked like a little kid in adult clothes. The way you brushed your hair out and gently turned down your covers may have seemed so routine to you but to him it was everything. It was everything he couldn’t have. He wanted all the little domestic things that he had never thought of before you met. You just made everything seems so easy. Travis couldn’t help but yearn to be next to you. To touch you and to hold you. To call you his.

“Are you staying tonight?” You ask him and watch him come back from wherever he was inside his head.

“Only if you want me to…”

“I mean it’s late, it’s probably easier and safer for you to just stay.” You have no idea why he’s being so weird. This wasn’t like him, and the awkward tension in the room was definitely unusual for the two of you.

“But do you want me to stay?” He’s looking directly at you now, and you can see in his eyes that he’s trying to say something more.

“Travis, if you have something to ask or say, just say it. I’m tired, and I really just want to go to sleep.” You have no idea what’s gotten into him, and you feel a bit bad for being so curt. It’s just that you’re exhausted and now you’re getting kind of cranky, and all you want to do is SLEEP. You turn to get into bed when he reaches for your arm. It’s gentle, and he just pulls you back around to face him,

“I know you’re tired, and that’s why you’re being such a cranky-ass, but… I just- I just can’t do this anymore.” After Travis’ little chirp he lets out a huff of air that he feels like he’s been holding for the past year, and you continue to stare back at him. Trying to be patient and trying to find some clarity, you give him a nudge to go on.

“I thought that us being together would be too hard, and that I’d eventually hurt you ‘cus I’m too busy with hockey or you’d just figure out that I’m not that great, and maybe I’m just being a selfish bastard now, but I can’t keep walking around here and going out with you and pretending that I don’t want to be the guy who gets to take you home at night.”

“…Trav, you are the guy who gets to take me home at night, and yes, I want you to stay. I always want you to stay,” You say it so casually and it just kind of falls out. It just feels right to have him around and to have him in your bed at the end of the night. Your need for sleep combined with the past year of pining after a boy who friend zoned you took over, and you gave in. You knew it was right, and so did Travis.

He’s smiling down at you when he pulls you into him, you lean into him and when your lips touch it’s like an endless crave has been satisfied for the both of you. You’re holding each other softly until you pull back to look at him,

“I’m really tired… and I think if I stay awake any longer I might just cry from exhaustion.”

He starts to laugh, “the fact that I know that’s true, and that if you did start crying I wouldn’t be surprised but would know to just sit and wait until you’ve got it out of your system because after you’ll be so much happier and then sleep like a baby, should be enough to tell you that I am absolutely, head over heels, in love with you.”

“I hate you. But i also love you. And if you don’t turn that light off and get in that damn bed right now, I might end you.”

Because he loves you (and because he doesn’t want to die), he turns the light off and gets into bed with you. For the first time in the last year, he gets to reach out to you to pull you into him. The two of you fall asleep in each others arms, and you take a mental note to make sure you show him just how much you love him in the morning ;)

[aughtpunk]

White is Not the New Black

Crowley woke up feeling weird. Like, weird weird.

He laid in bed a good three hours just trying to find the best way to describe said odd feeling. Like if someone spackled a crack with whipped cream and for some unknown reason it worked. Like a completely boneless adorable kitten that kept slipping through his fingers. Like floating safely on an inner-tube in the middle of a stormy ocean. Like stepping on dew-covered grass knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt there were no red ants for miles around. It felt like the time Warlock decided to bake cookies using marshmallows and kool-aid mix. It felt, for reasons Crowley could not comprehend, a bit like Aziraphale.

So of course Crowley decided to ignore it.

Crowley was an expert at ignoring his feelings. He should be, considering he’s been doing it since before The Fall. There was nothing with feelings per say, it was just they tended to get in the way of things. Feelings made it hard to do evil. Feelings compelled Crowley to save children, to save Aziraphale, to save those two bloody unicorns, to save Aziraphale, he was thinking about Aziraphale again, he was thinking about Aziraphale and that odd feeling in his chest only got worse. 

“Shutupshutupshutup.” Crowley muttered to himself as he watered his plants. He opened his mouth to snap at them only to find that nothing would come out. It was as the feeling was forming a wall between him and his usual projected self-loathing that morning. Crowley fought down the staticy sensation and gave being mean to his plants another shot.

“You,” He said pointing his finger at a particular irritating Norfolk Island Pine, “you can do better! Don’t make your needles as sharp! Stop looking so smug for being mistaken for a Christmas tree! There better not be a single dropped needle on this floor or, or,” the words scratched at his throat, unable to escape but unable to settle as well, “or I’ll gift you to Aziraphale this Christmas! And you know he’ll go full Victorian on dressing you. He’ll use candles. Real candles.”

That got the Norfolk Island Pine to stop looking so smug. 

(Crowley was rather proud of himself for the sudden popularity of the Norfolk Island Pine. He had convinced humans it would be a perfect Christmas plant, what with it being vaguely pine-ish and having the word Pine in its name. In reality the Norfolk Island Pine was possibly the worst plant to have around the holidays. It was a tropical plant that needed high heat and even higher humidity with multiple waterings a day and frankly had no business being in a cold dry climate. Because of this they tended to drop dead the second they left the store. The fact that once it died the dried pine needles became as sharp as rose thorns but three times as long was just an added bonus.)

Crowley rubbed an odd spot on his chest. Mentioning Christmas had only made the odd feeling grow feelers and wiggle about. Maybe he just needed coffee. Or a drink. Or Aziraphale.

Don’t think about Aziraphale.

Evil, he decided, he needed to go do evil. That would fix this right up.

***

Being evil didn’t help.

It did cheer him up in that the-misfortune-of-others-is-hilarious sort of way, but it did nothing to get rid of the feeling in his chest. In fact, the feeling felt as if it was growing. He couldn’t rid himself of the mental image of it being this multi-limbed fuzzy insect lodged in his chest. Right between his lungs, he decided. Just this spider-wasp-scorpion thing clawing at his internal organs. In a metaphorical sort of way, of course. 

After an afternoon spent causing traffic jams and making people forget their significant other’s birthdays, Crowley knew there was no use putting it off any longer. He had to go see Aziraphale. Not that he didn’t want to see Aziraphale! In fact he felt totally the opposite way. Ever since they toasted to the world Crowley’s only desire was to spend more time with Aziraphale. Possibly all of his time. He never wanted to leave his angel’s side and that was a problem because there was no way Aziraphale wanted the same. 

This was Aziraphale! The dear angel who spent a decade re-reading every book he owned because he quote ‘didn’t feel like going out’ end quote. Crowley knew that Aziraphale would be sick of him hanging around within days. Yes, they were best friends. Yes, they had chosen each other over Heaven and Hell. But that didn’t mean Aziraphale wanted Crowley to hold his hand and never let go.

The odd feeling wasn’t love. Crowley knew this because he had felt love for Aziraphale since Eden. He could feel it still as he drove over to the bookstore. His love had no odd descriptions attached beyond the usual overwhelming yearning for returned devotion. Not a single insect leg or boneless adorable animal to be seen. Just love. Simple, pure, unrequited love.

The bookstore was closed of course. Crowley could count the times he had seen it open on one hand (He would have been able to even if he got two fingers cut off before the count). That didn’t stop Crowley from opening the clearly-locked front door and walking in. The shop knew better than to keep Crowley out. 

“Angel?” Crowley called out as he entered the shop. Even after all of these weeks there was always a funny twist in his stomach when he came to visit Aziraphale. This feeling, unlike the love and the squirmy feeling that current reminded Crowley of a bowl of ice cream covered in stale pieces of candy corn, was one of dread. The fear that Crowley would find the shop burning once more and his angel missing for good. Crowley had managed to convince himself that the reason he visited Aziraphale so often was to check in on things, and not because it was the only way for that fear to die down.

Crowley was very, very good at ignoring his feelings.

“Crowley! You’re just in time! I need your help with this.” Aziraphale popped out from between the shelves holding what must have been someone’s lost smartphone. Yes, a lost smartphone that just so happened to have little angel wing stickers on the case. The white case. The sparkly white case. Oh no.

“Oh no.” Crowley groaned, “Angel, where did you get that? Why did you get that?”

The angel beamed with happiness even as he kept his eyes glued to the screen. “It was Miss Device’s idea! This way we can keep in touch with each other in case anything happens! I already have the numbers for Adam and all of his friends, too. We really must go visit them some day. Pepper, the girl who killed War, she’s trying to explain how I can set up a twitter account and I thought oh, Crowley helped make that, I should ask him--”

Aziraphale finally lifted his head up enough to look at Crowley.

He froze on the spot, causing the phone slipped right out of his hands and land on bookshop floor with a muffled thud.

(Luckily the phone liked the angel stickers so much it refused let its screen crack.)

“Uh.” Crowley cleared his throat once the silent went on a beat too long. “Angel? Aziraphale? You okay?”

Aziraphale didn’t respond right away. His eyes were wide with shock, his lips parted, and he looked one loud noise away from passing out on the spot. “Crowley,” he finally managed, “Are you okay?”

Crowley almost lied out of habit, but the feeling stopped him again. Well. If anyone knew about weird feeling it would have to be Aziraphale. “No? Kinda. I feel...off.”

“Off.” Aziraphale echoed.

“Yeah. Like, like there’s something in me that shouldn’t be there.”

“I see. What does it feel like?”

“Like if someone glued fake fur to a balloon and inflated it in my chest.”

Aziraphale didn’t respond to that.

“And the balloon is filled with those little sphere things that grow when you put them in water.”

Aziraphale closed his mouth.

“What the hell are those called, anyway?”

Aziraphale took a few steps forward. 

“I’ve seen them used for growing bamboo.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale finally said once he was within arm’s reach of his dear friend. 

“I should try that sometime--”

“Crowley, show me your wings this instant!”

Crowley didn’t even think about questioning Aziraphale. He did as he was told, unfurling his wings for the first time since Almost-End and giving them a good flap to stretch them out. A few feathers shook loose, as they tended to, sending bits of white fluff flying across the shop floor. “There? Happy? I know, they’re stunning, I know, but that doesn’t--”

Bits of white fluff.

White fluff.

White.

White.

Crowley spread his wings out wide enough to circle around him and Aziraphale. 

White. They were white. Pure, brilliant white feathers sparkling in the bookshop’s dim light.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s shaking hands within his own and said in a hoarse whisper. “Crowley. That weird feeling you’ve been experiencing is holiness.”

***

“Fuck.”

Crowley laid on Aziraphale’s couch, waiting to see if anything would happen. When the feeling--the feeling of God’s Grace--didn’t go away, he decided to experiment a little more.

“Fuck. Shit. Arse. Arsehole. Dick. Prick. Fucking shitting arshole prick cu--”

“Crowley, cursing isn’t going to make you re-fall.” 

Aziraphale placed a nice hot cup of tea on the small side table next to the couch. Not close enough to imply that Crowley had to drink it, but close enough to let the demon know the option was there. 

No, Aziraphale reminded himself, not a demon anymore. 

He was still kicking himself for not noticing the second Crowley stepped into the shop. Demons didn’t give off the same energy as angels. In fact, they absorbed it. Standing around a pack of demons was spiritually akin to getting one’s shoelace stuck in an escalator. Crowley’s pull just happened to be weak enough that Aziraphale stopped noticing it after the first few thousand years. At most all it did was given Aziraphale the heads up that Crowley was somewhere in the immediate area. But now?

Now Crowley was burning. 

The ex-demon (that was easier than thinking of him as an angel) was absolutely crackling with holy energy. It was probably strong enough to give everyone in Soho a lovely day. Maybe even powerful enough for them to find a fiver in an old jacket pocket! Aziraphale hadn’t felt such pure holiness since...well...since before. Before it all. 

Crowley sat up and removed his sunglasses. “What about my eyes? How do they look.”

“Still very snake-like.” Aziraphale said, which was the truth. Unfortunately the truth also required him to keep going. “But they’re less yellow and more um, gold.”

“Gold.”

“Yes.”

“In what way?”

“In a...um...golden-angel-halo sort of way.”

Crowley promptly fell back onto the couch. Aziraphale waited for him to say something, anything, but when it was clear Crowley wasn’t going to say a word Aziraphale did his best to fill in the silence between them. 

“It must have been the whole saving-the-world thing that did it. Too much good all in one go. And frankly I don’t see why you’re pouting about this! Isn’t this good? Isn’t un-falling, ah, isn’t rising exactly what all demons strive for? Don’t you feel...better?”

Silence. 

“You told me falling felt like having a part of you violently ripped out. That demons aren’t filled with evil, they’re filled with nothing. Absolutely empty! You said, and I quote, it feels like slowly bleeding out for eternity! That you spend the first thousand years on Earth simply getting used to the pain!”

“I was drunk.” Crowley finally replied. 

“Drunk means you were telling the truth.”

Crowley let out a deep sigh before rolling onto his back. “Drunk means I was melodramatic. Falling didn’t hurt that much.”

“But it did hurt, didn’t it?”

Crowley didn’t answer that. 

“Does it hurt now?”

“Hasn’t hurt in ages, angel. Decades. Not even sure when it faded. Just realized one day it was...gone.”

Aziraphale sat down at the other end of the couch, just far enough to let Crowley’s feet dangle in peace. Crowley was lying. He knew if he pressed Crowley would not only tell him the exact day but the exact moment down to the millisecond. Not that Aziraphale needed to do that. He already knew the answer. “The church.”

Crowley stared up at the ceiling above. “Yeah. After the church.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure when his hand moved onto Crowley’s ankle, or when he begun to soothingly trace a circle against his friend’s skin with his thumb. Funny. He had always dreamed of what life would be like if Crowley was an angel. If they were on the same side since the very beginning. 

(What Aziraphale nor Crowley realized is that they had been on the same side since the beginning. Their side was formed the second they stood side-by-side on the Garden’s wall and made small talk. God had looked down upon them and said oh, oh this is new. This is interesting.)

“Do you really hate angels this much?” Aziraphale said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What? Aziraphale, angel, course I don’t.” Crowley said as he finally sat up. “It’s just that it’s, well, it’s wrong. All of it feels wrong! It’s like, it’s like there’s always been this balance, right? You being all goody-angel and me being all, all demony-demon! It, it worked, didn’t it? Six thousand years it worked fine! I mean, humans go on about having a bloody angel and demon on their shoulders, right? No one ever goes oh no I’m in a terribly difficult situation, better consult the angel on my shoulder and the angel on my other should who is just like the first one but dresses in black. But not his wings! Nooooo, can’t have an angel with black wings. Gotta be white! Perfect bloody bone-bleached wings! Only pretty clean doves allowed in Heaven! Noah never would have accepted that olive branch if it was being held by a damned raven.”

Aziraphale stared into Crowley’s desperate now-golden eyes, his heart ready to burst from his overwhelming desire to help his dear friend. Yet at the same time thought over everything Crowley had said with a fine-tooth comb. He knew Crowley better than himself. He knew the snake always had a terrible habit of showing his hand. He also knew that sometimes Crowley was just...Crowley.

“Crowley. Darling. Are you upset because white wings ruins your aesthetic?” 

“They bloody destroyed it!” Crowley shouted as he threw up his arms in defeat. “White wings! Six thousand years of black going with everything and then I get white wings dropped on me like a damn missile! Do you know what white wings go with, angel?”

“Cream and tartan?”

“Nothing in my bloody closet, that’s what!” As if to punctuate the point Crowley outstretched his wings again and pointed at them as if saying ‘see?’. And as much as Aziraphale hated to admit it Crowley was right. The white wings didn’t go with Crowley’s normal attire at all. 

Aziraphale struggled internally with his centuries of British politeness. “Now Crowley, they’re very...well maintained. Impeccable grooming as always, darling. All the feathers are pointing the right way. Yes. Very good wings.”

Crowley sunk into the couch. “That bad?”

“You look like a salesman's half-hearted costume for an office Halloween party.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, angel.” 

Crowley drew his wings close to his body, using them to create a feathery barrier between him and the rest of the world. Aziraphale had seen him do it many times, usually after humanity had done something awful or when a TV show he really liked ended. The worst part was that these sulk sessions could last months, if not years. Aziraphale had to do something to shake his now angelic-snake friend out of it before it got bad.

“I have an idea.” 

Crowley peered at him through his feathers. “Good idea, or bad idea?”

Aziraphale thought it over carefully in his mind before settling on “Stupid idea.”

***

It was an immensely stupid idea. So stupid that if any of their human friends were around, yes even the children, they would have sat the angel and slightly-different-angel down and explained why this was a stupid idea. Why it wouldn’t work. That feathers don’t work that way. Ink doesn’t work that way. That the world didn’t work on cartoon logic. But they weren’t there, which meant Aziraphale’s stupid idea worked perfectly.

“There! That’s the last one!” Aziraphale stepped back with brush in hand to admire his work. The ink had soaked through Crowley’s feathers, turning them that lovely shade of endless void they used to be. “Now we just have to wait for it to dry--”

Crowley snapped his fingers.

“--or you could be an impatient child and miracle them dry. Really, Crowley?” 

“Just because I’m all holy now doesn’t mean I’m into any of that patience is a virtue nonsense.” Crowley stretched his wings up and out, their feathers once more the color of the space between the stars. He twisted his wings as best he could, marveling at the way the bookshop’s dim light danced across the feathers. “They’re perfect, angel! Course we’ll have to do touch ups whenever new feathers come in but that’s a small price to pay for fashion. What do you think, uh, Aziraphale? You okay?”

Aziraphale stood there, brush still in hand, his lip trembling the way it always did when he was upset. “Crowley. Are you really okay with this? Being...one of us?”

Crowley took the brush from Aziraphale’s hand and dropped it into the large ink pot on the floor. “It isn’t like I’ve never been an angel before. Besides, I’m not with,” he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of heaven, “them. We’re on our own side, remember? I’m not with Heaven as an angel the same way I wasn’t with Hell as a demon. I just got to get used to this...holy-feeling.”

Aziraphale removed his cotton gloves and let them fall to the floor. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It feels like someone handed me a baby lamb wrapped in a blanket and told me that if I drop it I’ll die.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Crowley shoved his hands as deep into his jacket pockets could go before mumbling “Yeah it’s alright, I guess.” 

“I’ll just have to be a little bit more of a bastard to balance everything out.”

They smiled at each other, as they always did, right within arm's reach yet so far away. There had always been that barrier between them even as they stood side-by-side at the end of the world. A barrier that, in roughly thirty seconds, both men would realize wasn’t there anymore. Crowley reached the realization first, most likely because of those long dangly legs of his.

“I’m not a demon.”

“Yes, Crowley. We’ve established that.”

“I’m an angel.”

“Yes, Crowley.”

“Aziraphale, we’re both angels.”

Crowley may have reached the conclusion first, but Aziraphale was the first one to move. He closed the distance between them, happy to find that Crowley was already leaning down enough to welcome his angel with a kiss. When the world didn’t try to end again they followed it up with a second, a third, and then quickly lost count in the double-digits. They spoke between the gaps, neither man willing to let go long enough for proper dialog.

“I was afraid--”

“I thought we couldn’t--”

“What if Heaven found out--”

“What if you Fell--”

“What if it hurt you--”

“What if your saliva counted as holy water or something--”

“That’s not how it--”

“Doesn’t matter, not anymore--”

“I love you--”

“I love you so much, angel--”

“You can’t call me that anymore now that you’re,” Aziraphale suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide, “oh fuck, you’re an angel. If you’re an angel that means Heaven--”

“--Will find out.” Crowley said, slightly annoyed that the kissing had to stop for a bit. The second this conversation was done, however, they were going right back at it. “And Hell. Bugger all.”

Aziraphale reached up and tugged on Crowley’s jacket enough to pull him back down for a softer kiss this time. “Maybe we should beat them to it with an official announcement?”

“Angel, you got that right-bastard look in your eyes.” Crowley laughed, the holiness in his chest mixing in with the rest of his love. Once combined they settled in naturally, allowing the odd feelings to finally pass. “Another stupid idea?”

“Better. This idea is hilarious.”

***

There were angels missing in Heaven.

Gabriel flipped through the ledger again, as if the missing names would simply magically reappear. Oh look, those couple hundred names were just hiding in the index! Nothing to worry about here. No angels going AWOL and seemingly vanishing from Heaven’s gaze for good. But no matter how many times Gabriel went through the old ledger not a single missing-angel name popped up. The worst part was that it wasn’t like they fell because their name would have been scribbled out like the rest of the demons.

He paused mid-flip as an absolute terrible thought occurred to him. Some people thought Gabriel wasn’t smart, or a bit thick, or any other number of phrases that meant he wasn’t the brightest angel. This was only partially true. He--and many other angels--may have been clueless when it came to Earthly matters, but were very sharp when it came to celestial matters. That was why Gabriel returned to the first page of the ledger and began counting the scribbled out demon names. 

Two hundred and seventy-five were missing, the same amount as the missing angels.

Gabriel closed the book with loving care before pressing it against his face to muffle his screams. He found screaming very therapeutic. He couldn’t really curse at God as that was a big no-no, but he could scream to the universe at large about that damned angel and that double-damned demon and their damn-damn-bloody-damned ineffable plan and--

Gabriel’s scream session was cut off by his holy smartphone going off. He could scream at whoever was on the other side, he thought. Even better! Gabriel answered the phone and was just about to start bellowing when the person on the other end cut him off.

“GABE! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

Beelzebub. Great. His eternity wasn’t going bad enough. “Beez--”

“DO NOT CALL ME BEEZZZZZZ!”

Gabriel took a deep breath before continuing with “Beez, if this is about the missing names in the ledger I’ll have you know I had nothing to do with it, Heaven had nothing to do with it, and if you actually sat down to read the thing you would see that there’s just as many angels missing as demons--”

“I didn’t mean that! I meant the pizzzzzzzza party!”

“The what?”

***

“The Pizzzzza party!” Beelzebub sunk down on their throne, phone in one hand and slice of pizza in the other. “Hell is full of pizzzza!”

There was a beat of silence on the other end before Gabriel replied, “What like, just lying around in piles or--”

“No! There’s, there’s tables! And streamers! Balloons! There are balloons here, Gabriel! In bright cheery colors! And there’s this one really long table full of different types of candy and and ice cream it’s supposed to be a, a,” Beelzebub lowered the phone just enough to shout “Ligur! What did you say it was called?”

“An ice cream sundae bar!” Ligur shouted back.

“An ice cream sundae bar!”

“Hold up, didn’t you tell me that Ligur was dead?”

Beelzebub shrugged even though they knew Gabriel couldn’t see it. “He showed up right before the trial. Said he just stopped being non-existent.” 

“I got better!” Ligur shouted again. 

(Of course Ligur was better. When Adam said he was going to put the world back together he meant it. That included any and all demons killed over the course of the week. There were also a lot more bees and whales than before but Adam figured no one would notice.)

“Anyway!” Beelzebub snapped, “No one down here did this so it must have been one of your lot!”

“My lot?! If you think any of ‘my lot’ would sully themselves with pizza and ice cream--”

“No but your lot is more likely to use their powers to create a pizzzzzza party large enough for all of Hell because they thought it was nice or something!”

“I am insulted! I will have you know there’s not a single angel up here who would waste even a drop of mercy for ‘your lot’ and you know it!”

“Well if it wasn’t me, and if wasn’t you, then...who…” Beelzebub let their voice trail off. Much like their counterpart, Beelzebub was not stupid. But they were a fly, and sometimes it took their brain a bit of buzzing around before landing long enough to connect the dots. 

“Fuck me.” Beelzebub said the exact same time Gabriel said “For fuck’s sake.”

It was at that moment Hastur popped out of the milling crowd of Hell and said “Hey boss? Ligur found a cake and uh, I think you need to see it.”

“Of course there’s cake.” Beelzebub said as they shoved their phone back into their pocket without bothering to hang up (Butt dialing was an invention of Hell after all). They wolfed down their slice of pizza disturbingly quick and followed Hastur through the crowd, eager to get this over with. If you asked why Beelzebub was impatient they would say something about needing the time to plot against this grand insult against Hell and all of its demons. They would not under any circumstances say because they wanted one of the cake’s corner pieces before a far less worthy demon claimed it. 

The crowd parted as Beelzebub swept through, giving them a clear path to this mysterious cake. Beelzebub was slightly disappointed to see that it was round, therefore meaning there were no corner pieces to claim. In just a few more minutes Beelzebub would be even more disappointed when they found out it was an angel food cake. But at that very second all they could focus on was the sprawling script written across the cake in flowing gold-frosting letters punctuated with a tiny angel wing on both sides.

He’s mine.

- A. Z. F.

***

Back in Heaven Gabriel didn’t hear Beelzebub’s frustrated scream on the other side of the phone because he was too busy staring at a sticker. 

He had no idea how he missed it during his numerous searches through the ledger. Whoever had placed it in the ledger did it in a way that it covered a name that could have been angelic or demonic scribbled-out.  It was absolutely hideous. A mess of holographic rainbows and sparkles designed to catch the light of Heaven at just the right angle to annoy Gabriel with its glare. The sticker also so happened to be in the shape of a black and red snake wearing sunglasses.

Gabriel couldn’t even find it in himself to scream. 

The door to Gabriel’s office opened as Michael stepped in with rather puzzled expression on his face. “Gabriel, I apologize for interrupting but I just got word from my informant that there’s been a massive miracle performed in Heaven and Hell and I wanted to speak to you about--”

Michael stopped talking. Odd.

“About…?” Gabriel asked as he finally tore his eyes off the garish sticker. Michael was staring at him. “About what?”

No, he thought, Michael wasn’t staring at him. He was staring up and over Gabriel’s shoulder. Dread pooled in Gabriel’s stomach as he turned around in his heavenly office chair to see what was behind him. 

There, right on the back wall above his desk, was a large portrait of The Serpent of Eden, Tempter of Mankind, Boyfriend of That Angel We Don’t Talk About, and a General Royal Pain in the Ass, Crowley. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, shooting double fingerguns to make it absolutely clear that he was far cooler than anyone looking at the painting. Aziraphale was there too, pressed up against the serpent’s side with his head propped up on Crowley’s shoulder. And there, under the painting, was a shining golden plaque with a single line engraved across its surface in a style that Gabriel didn’t know, but any Earthbound human would recognize immediately as comic sans. 

ANGEL OF THE MILLENNIUM - ANTHONY J CROWLEY

Gabriel didn’t bother to muffle his screams this time.

[idnek83]

First Christmas

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Lots of causal smooching, No Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair 

Summary: Soda and Gundham get ready for their first Christmas together. It's not much, and they definitely spent too much on questionable decorations, but, somehow, it's still perfect.

Read on Ao3

__________________

Christmas with Gundham was… different.

Neither of them had come from families where Christmas had been a huge thing. Soda was used to a discount tree and mismatched ornaments, some of which he had made himself with spare parts from the shop. As far as presents went, he usually got some new socks or something else practical, and, on years where his parents had the money to spare, a new screwdriver or wrench to add to his personal collection.

He had never woken up to piles of perfectly wrapped presents under an equally perfect tree, but he always enjoyed the day as a kid.

He had asked Gundham what his own Christmases had been like growing up, and between his eccentric words, Soda had gathered that they had had somewhat similar experiences: modest decorations and practical gifts.

The biggest difference appeared to be the “abhorrent feast” Gundham’s mother would serve every year.

“The angle who bore me created such fierce dishes; they would cause the toxins in my body to become so concentrated I could hardly withstand them myself.”

Soda cringed at the idea of spending every Christmas sick to your stomach, but couldn’t help but be touched by the idea of Gundham forcing himself to eat whatever his mother served him just so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

Soda usually just had take-out for Christmas, it was one of his favourite parts of the holiday.

But like he said, Christmas with was different.

_

At some point in November the topic had come up, and the two of them had started making plans for how they wanted to spend their first Christmas together.

They ended up going tree shopping at the beginning of December.

A little pop-up tree shop had shown up just down the street from their little apartment, and when Soda had seen it, he ran home and excitedly grabbed Gundham. He began to ramble about how he wanted to get the biggest, fullest tree he could carry, sweeping Gundham up into his arms as he did as if to demonstrate. Gundham had just laughed at him and allowed himself to be carried as Soda began to sing random bits of Christmas songs off key and dance around the apartment.

“While I am enjoying this ritual, my beloved, I do not see how it will procure us a tree.”

Soda blushed and place Gundham back on the ground, looking slightly embarrassed and, in Gundham’s opinion, very cute.

“Shall we?” Gundham reached for his boyfriend’s hand and moved to the door, watching as Soda immediately perked back up.

“Hell yeah.”

They made the short trek to the tree shop, Soda gushing about the amazing tree they were going to get the whole way. However, once they arrived and Soda actually got a look at the price tags on those big, full, amazing trees, his face fell. He knew they were expensive, but damn, they were really expensive.

Gundham had picked up on his disappointment, and began doing his best to make excuses for why the ‘amazing’ trees were actually subpar; a hole here, a strange lump there, and branches to weak to hold “proper seasonal embellishments” all over the place. Soda knew exactly what Gundham was doing, but just nodded along and squeezed his hand a little tighter as they looked for a more reasonably priced tree.

They ended up finding one that was somewhat sparse, but it was tall and had a good shape to it and, most importantly, was in their budget. After paying, Soda made quite the show of lifting it himself, hoisting it over his shoulder and flexing his free arm in an exaggerated manner to make Gundham smile.

It had been a little trouble getting it through the narrow halls of their apartment building, but a few minutes later, they had it set up in a corner of their home, undecorated but bringing a festive feeling to the space all the same.

Gundham noticed Soda’s previous bravado had died down and he was alternating between glancing up at the tree and down his hand where he was absentmindedly rubbing at some sap.

“What is wrong, dearest consort? Does this tree no longer please you?”

“N-no, it’s just… Well, I guess I just feel kinda dumb? I made a big deal about getting us the perfect tree and-“

“And you succeeded in doing so.” Gundham placed a hand on Soda’s cheek and kissed him. He was used to his boyfriend’s tendency to doubt himself, but that didn’t mean he was just going to let him do it. “Perhaps this tree has more space between its limbs than you had wished, but that will only make it easier for us to adorn it as we see fit.” He wrapped and arm around Soda’s waist and drew him closer, hand still on his cheek. “We shall create the most formidable display with it, we will be the envy of all who gaze upon it, and all will know us to be true masters of these yuletide rituals.”

Soda began to laugh as Gundham kissed him again.

“You’re right man, we’re gonna decorate this tree so good that it makes all our friend’s want to throw their trash trees out.”  He finally returned Gundham’s kisses, and they both decided to spend the rest of the evening in their bedroom.

_

“We should probably buy some ornaments soon, starting to feel weird just having a naked tree in the corner.

After a very pleasant evening, Soda and Gundham had decided it best to leave decorating the tree for the next day, only to realise in the morning that neither of them actually owned Christmas decorations.

The weather had been bad that day, so they put off shopping. However, a week had now gone by and the tree remained bare.

“You are right, my love.” Gundham stroked Soda’s messy hair and kissed his forehead. “Should we wait too long, we may find an inadequate selection as well.”

Soda untangled himself from Gundham’s arms and the blanket he had thrown over them once they had finished making love on the couch.

“We could probably do it now, if you’re feeling up to it?” Soda waggled his eyebrows at Gundham.

“You know full well it takes plenty more to render me immobile.” Gundham flashed a smirk, half humorous and half suggestive.

Before Soda could get to wrapped up in the thoughts of the last time he had immobilized Gundham, making him scream over and over until he was too tired to move, Gundham stood up. He began to dress himself, laughing and tossing Soda his boxers when he noticed his boyfriend getting excited again.

“There will be plenty of time for that later, dear consort, but for now, the tree demands adornment.”

They had dressed, much to Soda’s disappointment, and headed to the store.

_

Once they had arrived Soda wished they had put off shopping for an entirely new reason. There were just so many options. If they had waited and there really had been fewer ornaments available, then at least I would be easier to make a choice.

Soda looked to Gundham, but he looked just as overwhelmed by the selection. There were aisles upon aisles lined with various Christmas decorations, and at lest two appeared to be solely dedicated to tree ornaments.

They shared a look before heading down an aisle at random, hoping they would know what they wanted when they saw it.

It had been at least 20 minutes. Soda and Gundham had walked up each aisle a number of times and Soda was starting to feel exhausted. They should probably just grab something at this point. The only thing He had really manage to decide was that he liked the gold ornaments best, but that still left way too many options.

“Gundham, I’m going to die if we don’t pick something soon. Please, just grab something and lets go.”

“If you are sure…” Gundham glanced at the closest shelf, considering the selection for half a second before grabbing a box of gold and silver ornaments. “Do these suit your desires?”

Soda loved Gundham so much. “Yes. Beautiful. I love you. Let’s leave now.” Soda kissed Gundham and took the box from his hands. He moved to leave but caught Gundham glancing to a shelf just a little further down the aisle.

Soda turned to see what Gundham was looking at. It took a moment, Soda was at the point where all of the ornaments were starting to look the same, but he was pretty sure he knew which set Gundham was looking at.

He walked over to the shelf and picked up the box of all black ornaments.

“These ones too then.” He proudly proclaimed and begin to walk towards the tills.

“Dearest… you do not have to do that. I understand my taste can be a bit… ostentatious…” Soda knew Gundham sometimes got a little embarrassed about how much he liked anything that looked dark and/or mysterious, but he also knew his boyfriend genuinely enjoyed that stuff too.

So he just squinted at Gundham and reached for a second box of black ornaments before finally heading for the tills.

Gundham chased after him, obviously a bit flustered. He kept muttering apologies and telling Soda he really didn’t need the ornaments until they finally made it home.

Once the door shut behind them, Soda took Gundham’s face in both his hands and kissed him.

“Done apologizing? Get it out of your system?” He stared at Gundham until he nodded. “Good. Cus I love you and your stupid goth style, and I think these ornaments are fucking sweet.” Soda kissed him again. “Gonna have the most badass tree anyone’s ever seen.”

Gundham was smiling again, a soft embarrassed smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Shall we begin then?”

_

An hour later Soda had to admit that 3 boxes or ornaments may have been too many, but the tree looked awesome and he wasn’t going to complain.

Covered from top to bottom in black, with accents of gold and silver and some warm white lights in between, the tree was a sight to behold. Yeah, it looked extra as hell, but Soda really did think it looked badass. Hell, even if he had hated it, it would have been worth it to see the look on Gundham’s face.

Gundham was openly smiling at the tree, looking as happy as he had been on the day Soda had admitted his feelings to him, and it was making his heart melt.

Soda wrapped his arms around Gundham from behind, and hummed into his shoulder.

“Y’know you really do have good taste, babe.” He couldn’t help but playfully bite at Gundham’s neck, making him laugh a little. “You fell in love with me after all.” He blew a raspberry into Gundham’s neck and they both dissolved into a puddle of smiles and laughter.

_

It was tacky. Soda knew it was tacky, and he picked up a back up just in case Gundham hated it, but he couldn’t resist it.

He had been out looking for a tree topper, probably some kind of star since neither of them were religious and an angle would look out of place on their tree, which had been “imbued with dark and mysterious energies.” And he really had planned on finding a nice star, preferably a gold one with some black accents or something to match the rest of the tree, but then he saw it.

The tree topper was a hamster. It’s arms and legs were spread wide, so it was vaguely star shaped, and it was dressed like Santa. Soda had choked when he saw it. Then he immediately bought it, grabbing a more generic looking gold star only after he broke out of his ‘buying-a-stupid-thing-Gundham-might-hate-but-might-also-love’ haze.

Now, standing at in front of the door to their apartment, Soda felt unbelievably stupid. It had just been a dumb waste of money. Gundham was gonna hate it and make Soda sleep on the couch for the night to make him think about what he had done. Ok, well, whatever. He’d just show Gundham the back up star and return the hamster later, he never even had to know about it.

He entered their apartment and the tension in his body immediately began to fade. Gundham was in the kitchen, humming along to Christmas music and pulling something out of the oven that smelled like it might be gingerbread. He turned and smiled at Soda before returning to what he was doing.

Soda set down his bag and started taking off his winter gear. While he was hanging his jacket, he heard Gundham approach him.

“Did you find an adequate decoration, dearest?” He placed a slightly flour covered hand on Soda’s shoulder and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Mmhm, it’s in the bag-” Shit. He kicked off his boots as fast as he could and turned. “Wait, Gundham-“

“Oh, this is magnificent. Excellent choice, my beloved, dark consort.” Thank Hamster Jesus, Gundham had pulled the normal star from the bag.  “Hmm? What else did you-” Soda retracted his thanks from Hamster Jesus, he could rot in Hamster Hell.

Gundham gently set the gold star down as he starred in horror at the abomination that was the hamster Santa star.

“Look, Gundham, I can explain. I just-”

Gundham burst out laughing. He clutched the Hamster Santa to his chest and absolutely cackled.

“Uh, Gundham?”

Soda watched in horror as he witnessed what he could only assume was Gundham snapping and going absolutely bat-shit insane. He had doubled over and fallen to his knees, still laughing so hard that Soda was sure he couldn’t breathe.

“Babe?”

Gundham took a deep, shaky breath and wiped tears from his eyes before setting Hamster Santa to the side and extending a hand so Soda could help him up.

At least, that’s what Soda had thought he wanted.

Gundham pulled his boyfriend to the ground with him, expertly rolling Soda onto his back and pinning him below him. Gundham bent to kiss all over Soda’s face, laughing a little again.

“Um, so…” Soda was at a loss for words. Had he broke his boyfriend with the shitty star or-

“I love it. It is terrible and I do not believe I have ever loved an object more.” Gundham laughed a little and sat back on his knees, reaching for Hamster Santa again and allowing Soda to sit up. He turned it in his hands and chuckled.

“Uh, really? You sure it’s not too, uh, tacky?” Soda smiled a little and placed a hand on Gundham’s thigh.

“Oh, it is incredibly tacky. Were I freed from this mortal shell and once more able to access the full depths of my dark power, I still do not believe I would be able to find any object more so.” Soda frowned, but Gundham kissed him again. “And yet, it brings me great joy to think you saw this and thought ‘what better gift could there be to bring my beloved, than an abomination which depicts a fusion one of his most cherished dark beasts with the blasphemous idol of a once holy day.’” Gundham laughed again and patted Hamster Santa with more affection than it really deserved.

“Uh, yup, my exact thoughts, word for word.” ‘Hamster funny, give Gundham’ was close enough to what Gundham had said, right? “But really, we don’t have to put that one on the tree, we can just put it somewhere else, or return it, or-“

“This beast will adorn the most honored spot on our tree, and I will not hear otherwise.”

“But won’t it kinda ruin the, like, aesthetic?”

“It will make the aesthetic, my love, and we will place it immediately.” Gundham stood and pulled Soda up with him, giving him another kiss on his forehead before pulling him to the tree by his hand. He proudly handed Hamster Santa to Soda. “Do the honours, my dearest.”

Soda grimaced as he was handed the tacky decoration, he really didn’t want to ruin their tree, and besides-

“I can’t reach the top of the tree, where’s the-” He was cut off by Gundham wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him into the air. Soda couldn’t help but laugh, he liked being picked up by Gundham almost as he liked picking him up. “Fine then, have it your way.” He (gently) slammed Hamster Santa on top of the tree and crossed his arms defiantly, playing up his fake annoyance.

Only to lose any semblance of actual irritation when Gundham hoisted him slightly higher and threw him over his broad shoulder. Soda let out and incredibly manly squawk as Gundham patted him on the ass.

“Thank you, my consort, allow me to express my deepest gratitude.” Gundham’s voice had taken a very familiar tone, slightly deeper than it already was, and Soda found he no longer wanted to protest as Gundham carried him to their bedroom.

_

Christmas day had, admittedly, been fairly similar to the Christmases Soda had growing up. No giant pile under the tree, and mostly practical presents. Emphasis on mostly, Soda thought as he leaned back against Gundham’s chest on the couch in his reindeer onesie. Gundham wore a matching one. It hadn’t been planned, they had both bought each other the same stupid onesie complexly by coincidence, and they had both lost their shit laughing when they opened them at the same time as well.

Even if the day itself hadn’t been all that noteworthy, Soda couldn’t happen but think this was the best Christmas he had ever had. The chaos leading up to it had been so new to him, but he already cherished the memories he had been able to make with Gundham. The tree hadn’t been the full, perfect one from his dreams, but decked out in their badass gold, black, and silver ornaments and topped with sweet, tacky, little Hamster Santa, Soda knew it was definitely more memorable.

The gifts hadn’t been huge, or extravagant, or expensive like the ones he saw in movies growing up, but they had been thoughtful and full of love and even a little silly. Soda couldn’t think of anything he would have rather received.

He leaned his head back against Gundham’s shoulder, and his boyfriend kissed him without looking away from the book he was reading. Soda let out a contented sigh.

Sitting in Gundham’s arms, surrounded by their questionable decorations and thoughtful gifts, and wearing stupid matching onesies.

This was a perfect Christmas.

[patovpran]

Celebratory night (Ohm x Fong)

Here it is, as promised, an Sarawattine, Earnpear and Ohmfong fic. There's more of the last two but oh well. I also tried mentioning Man and Boss cus i felt bad I was excluding them from this.

The group aka Sarawat, Tine, Pear, Ohm and Fong gathered in front of the architecture building, waiting for Earn to check the grades of her final exams. The boys were sat on the stairs while Pear chose to sit at the end of the concrete fence next to them. The plan was that if everyone passed, they'd go out drinking tonight and now it was only Earn who was left to find out if she passed or failed.

"Pass!" She screamed as soon as she came through the door, other students immediately turning to see who it was while the group cheered. Pear immediately jumped off of the fence and run to hug her meanwhile the rest got up.

"Proud of you!" She gave her a quick kiss on her cheek and Earn's smile got even bigger.

"I knew you'd do great." Sarawat smiled and put an arm around her shoulders before turning to the group. "We can drink!"

Another cheer erupted from them before they laughed. Earn and Sarawat high fived before Sarawat walked down to Tine's side.

"We need to go grocery shopping so we'll meet you later at the usual spot."

"Sounds good." Pear said and took Earn's hand. "Do you have any plans or do you want to go to the new cafe with us? I heard they have amazing coffee and cakes."

The pair she was referring to was Ohm and Fong who stood next to each other, unnecessary close but no one commented and neither seemed to mind. Tine smirked to himself when he had noticed. He wondered how long was it possible for them to stay oblivious of the other's crush. There was also a bet going on between the group that started about three months ago when they all realized the rest also noticed that the two were overly friendly with each other. Even Man picked up on it and he hasn't spent as much time with the two as the rest.

"I could go for it." Fong nodded.

"Sure. Why not?" Ohm shrugged, seemingly nonchalant but they knew he was happy to get a chance to spend more time with Fong.

"Awesome!" Pear jumped once in her spot before waving at Sarawat and Tine. "Bye."

They said quick goodbyes before they went two separate directions. The cafe was only a five minute walk away from the architecture building but with the hot weather outside, they all let out a breath of relief as soon as the cool air from the AC hit them. Even though the cafe was new it was buzzing with people but they managed to find a table to fit them all.

"Oh, look! The strawberry one is on sale today." Pear turned the menu to Earn for a glance before putting it down, her mind quickly made up. She took the rest of the time to watch Ohm and Fong. They had they heads leaned into each other, almost touching while they debated what should they try.

"Triple chocolate one is a classic." Ohm said, pointing at the picture if it.

"Yeah but it's really hot out and you might feel nauseous later. It's hard on the stomach." Fong looked up at him for a moment, slightly moving back as the blush appeared on his face. He probably didn't even realize how close they sat. "There's one with a chocolate pudding if you want chocolate. That shouldn't be too bad."

"That sounds good too." Ohm nodded as he flipped the page. "They have raspberry cheesecake!"

He said with a smile, happy because he knows Fong loves that. Fong hummed in approval and they leaned back in their chairs, turning their attention to Earn and Pear.

"All set?" Ohm asked before calling for the waiter after everyone confirmed they have their order. They chatted about their finals and the results for a while before their cakes and drinks came to the table.

"Want a bite?" Earn asked as she held a piece of her red velvet to Pear.

"Noup, just you eat." She said before taking a bite of her cake. "How are yours?"

"Really good." Fong responded while Ohm finished his bite.

"Fong was right." Ohm nodded to himself before looking up. "This one is not as heavy."

"I'm brilliant." Fong joked.

"You are." Ohm said seriously, focusing on his cake that they weren't even sure he realised he had said it. Fong stared at him for a moment while Earn and Pear exchanged a knowing look, smirking.

"I'll win." Earn leaned in to whisper to Pear who just rolled her eyes.

The four of them sat and talked for about an hour and a half before they decided they should go home and get ready for their night out. Their dorm buildings were in different places so they had to say goodbye when they left the cafe.

"Ohm will confess first." Earn said as soon as they were far enough so that the two couldn't hear them.

"Additional bet?" Pear raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend, stopping and holding a hand out to her.

"Additional bet. Winner gets one wish." She added before they shook their hands. Earn was confident she'd win this one if not the one with the group. It was just a matter of time before Ohm slipped.

Two hours later Earn was getting ready to do her make up when her phone rang. She was sure it was her girlfriend and got surprised when she saw Ohm's name written on the screen. Curious, she was quick to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhm…do you have time?" Ohm sounded nervous, she noticed. She got up from the floor amd sat on the edge of her bed.

"Is everything ok?"

"No, i mean yeah, everything's fine. I just, uhm, I need an advice." She raised her eyebrow, leaning back on her arm waiting for him to continue. "So I've thought about trying something different…fashion-wise."

"Ohh..I'm listening." Ohm wasn't a much of a fashionista. She only saw him wearing very casual clothes and their university uniform and that's about it.

"Could you maybe come over? It'd be easier and you can go through my closest too and match something I didn't even think of." She smiled at how adorably nervous he sounded.

"Of course. I'll be there in 20 minutes." She had already got up and went to pick up her make up bag. That is getting postponed until she helps Ohm. After getting everything she needed, she texted Pear she'll meet her in the club before walking over to Ohm's dorm building. When she got there, Ohm was leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone. He immediately turned his attention to her when he noticed she came.

"Hi." He pulled the door open for her and they continued to his room. Earn wasn't sure what to expect but his room wasn't necessarily clean and orderly but it wasn't overall too bad either. Probably the messiest room she ever entered was Boss' but he was quick to somewhat clean it so she and Pear could comfortably walk around if they wanted.

"So what were you thinking?" She dropped her purse on the table before walking over to Ohm who stood by the closet.

"I have some dress shirts that I never wore. I mean, they're not that fancy but still…I'm not sure I'd suit them." He answered truthful, already reaching to take them out.

"Everyone suits a button up." She said as he looked at them. "Let me rummage through your clothes a bit and I'll give you few outfits and you can see if you like any."

"Sure." Ohm what down and watched and Earn picked out clothes, throwing them on the bed and occasionally saying something to herself. "Ohh?! Why did you hide this one from me?"

Ohm looked up as she took out a one side black, other side white button up and hold it up with an amazed face. He shrugged as he touched it gently.

"I honestly forgot I have it." He brought it once when he had sudden urge to try something different but never actually got around to wear it.

"You're wearing it." She said firmly. "Freedom of choice revoked. I'm sorry."

He barely had time to react when she threw the shirt at his face and turned around to find long black jeans plus shoes that match.

"Go dress." She pointed at the bathroom while going to grab her make up bag. When she still saw him in the same place when she turned, she shook her head. "Well?"

"Oh, yeah. Ok." He quickly checked if he was holding everything Earn had thrown at him before leaving and letting Earn to do her make up. Some time later he got out and she turned, mascara in hand, and smiled.

"You look great!" She closed the tube and rushed to him.

"Isn't it a bit too much?" He asked, checking himself out in the mirror. "Maybe I should just change. Yeah, I'll do that."

He tried to escape back into the bathroom but Earn was faster to push him and he fell on the bed. After that she disappeared into the bathroom before waking out with hair gel in her hands.

"Today you're dressing to impress and I can promise you, Fong will be impressed." She sat next to him and turned him to face her. "Besides, I can be seen as overly dressed too but who cares? Sometimes you feel the need to."

"F-Fong? That's not…I'm not.." Ohm shook his head and blinked way too many times for it to be necessary.

"Don't ever try to fool me." She said casually, opening the packaging and scooping a bit of gel. "Now sit properly so I can help you look even hotter."

Ohm done as he was told and they sat quietly as she styled his hair. In the end, his hair was slicked back with just one strand falling over his forehead. She checked him out completely, nodding proudly before moving out of the way so that he could see himself.

"Oh shit…" His eye went once he saw himself. For finishing touches she tucked only one side of his shirt in, rolled up his sleeves and gave him other earrings that better matched the vibe.

"See? You look stunning. Everyone in the club will be drooling over you." She joined him by his side abd they looked together at his reflection in the mirror. "Fong might get a heart attack."

"He doesn't like me like that." She watched as his mood instantly dropped and she wanted to scream that Fong most definitely felt the same as him but she didn't want to overstep.

"You never know." She smiled up at him. "Don't give up just yet."

"Thank you." He gave her a side hug while giving himself one last look in the mirror.

"You're very welcome." She smiled before sitting down on the floor. "Now just let me finish my make up and we're ready to go."

"Sure thing."

~

"Don't be dramatic, you'll be fine." Tine said as he watched Fong panic over a video call.

"You know how I am drunk." Fong pointed out. "The chances of me accidentally confessing or worse, kissing him, while intoxicated are high."

"If it happened, I'm sure the outcome wouldn't turn out to be so bad." Tine said just as Sarawat exited the bathroom.

"What's going on?" He asked, dropping next to Tine on the bed.

"He's worried that he'd drunk confess." Tine filled him in.

"It's not too bad." Sarawat shrugged. "I mean I did it."

"Shut up." Tine laughed before focusing back on Fong. "I mean you can also not drink."

"Yeah right...as if any of you would let me get away with not drinking." Tine rolled his eyes while Sarawat made a face, showing that Fong was not in the wrong.

"Don't stress over it. You'll be fine." Tine reassured. "Now go get dressed and don't forget to meet up with Pear first."

"Mhm, I know." He nodded, muffled shuffling coming from the speakers as he got up from the bed. "By the way, how come Earn and Ohm are coming together?"

"No clue." Tine turned to Sarawat for an answer but he shrugged, also not having a reason.

"She didn't say anything to me besides the message in the group chat."

"Hm...well, anyway, I'll see you guys later. Bye!" They said their goodbyes and both Fong and Tine went to get dressed before leaving to meet up at their usual place before going together to the club. The club was 15 minutes with car and the four agreed to take one taxi and find a table for everyone while Earn and Ohm took another one, notifying them they'll be a bit later than usual.

"Did she tell you anything?" Tine asked Pear as they sat down. Sarawat and Fong disappeared to get the usual starting drinks.

"Nothing much. She just said she had to help him with something." Earn and Ohm didn't usually hang out alone so she was very curious what the thing was but didn't want to pry.

"Appetizers are served." Sarawat and Fong placed them around and sat down. Tine checked the messages and noticed one new in the group chat.

"Just in time. They're here." Tine said and pocketed his phone just as the two walked into their field of vision. It was little to say that everyone was shocked. The two were a sight to see.

Earn's hair was curled and she wore a short red dress along with heels and finished her statement with blood red lipstick. Next to her was Ohm who never looked as styled and the two were quick to catch attention.

"Holy shit." Fong said with his mouth wide open, very obviously checking out Ohm. The latter sat down casually next to him seemingly oblivious of everyone's dazed expressions. Earn joined her girlfriend's side, very proudly smirking as he looked around and, more specifically, at Fong's expressions.

"I feel very underdressed right now." Tine spoke up, staring at him for moment longer before turning to Earn. "Your doing I'm guessing."

"He asked, I delivered." She shrugged, pulling the drink closer to her. "What do you think, Fong?"

Everyone immediately turned to him who still stated at Ohm dazed. They locked eyes and Fong felt as if he could pass out any time soon, his heart was beating fast and he felt a little weak. If he had panicked before, he sure as hell isn't holding up well now. Not knowing what to say, he quickly grabbed the glass of tequila and downed it before giving Ohm a times up.

"...-look great." He swallowed the 'you' but Ohm seemed satisfied with the answer. Earn and Pear, Sarawat and Tine exchanged looks before smiling and following Fong's lead. Soon enough, Ohm being last, everyone's first round was quickly gone.

It was safe to say that that night was a wild night. After few drinks, Fong got very confident and started openly flirting with Ohm, his new look apparently tugging his last string that was holding Fong back from doing so. Ohm wasn't sure how to react at first, thinking Fong was messing with him, but as the night went on, he started flirting back. The group found the whole ordeal very entertaining and most importantly, they were sure that now both knew the other liked him which meant the bet was done.

"And as expected…I'm right." Pear grinned, her pride even bigger drunk. She slammed her hand on the table before gesturing to everyone to pay up while the duo disappeared somewhere, doing who knows what but most likely the very obvious thing. The group groaned but reached for their wallets and threw bills into her hand. "And you…" She pointed at Earn. "...that is yet to be seen."

Pear put the money in her bag just as the two returned to the table. Everyone noticed the messy state they were in but instead of commenting, Sarawat held up his glassed and yelled.

"Celebratory drink!"

"Cheers!" The group added after him and slammed their glasses together. Their group officially had another couple.

[lo-55]

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 20

Deal or No Deal?

Achilles appears beside Chad and Orhihime, dressed in his black under armour and holding only his shield. He looks unassuming, for one of the most famous heroes in history. A whisper in the trees and he knows that Medusa and Cu have taken up their posts, but none of them move to interfere. Cu and Achilles have too much respect for a deal made by warriors to come between the two of them, and Medusa will stay where she is unless he looks like he’s going to die.

Which he won’t.

He can’t let himself die yet.

He has far too much to do.

Zangetsu sings when he blocks a tiny cero aimed at him. It cuts easily to both sides of him and blows up a tree violently. Ichigo blocks each one that’s lobbed at him, until Yammy yanks out his zanpakutou and swings it viciously at Ichigo.

Ichigo blocks, narrowly, and swings Tensa out of his sleeve in an uppercut that nearly spills Yammy’s guts from his body. If Hollows have guts.

He doesn’t actually know.

Yammy howls and keeps taking wild, viciou swings at him. He’s strong, and powerful and angry.

But that makes him stupid, too.

Ichigo bolts between his legs when he lifts his sword above his head and avoids a blow that leaves a chasm in the park ground. Ichigo spins on his knees and brings his shorter blade around to slice through Yammy’s tendons on his legs, then up his back with Neive.

On the chance that their Zanpakutou work like his he lops off Yammy’s other hand when he tries to flail behind him and kicks the sword into the trees.

Ichigo levels Neive to Yammy’s throat and stands still.

He’d learned a long time ago not to let people ‘level up’ if he could help it.

“Yield,” he ordered coldly. He didn’t feel much like Ichigo Kurosaki, Substitute Shinigami right now. He felt like Ichigo Kurosaki, Master of of Chaldeas.

“Fuck you!” Yammy snarls at him. “You can’t do this!”

“Funny,” Ichigo says, “I just did.”

He turns his eyes to Ulquiorra, who’s impassiveness is broken only by a slight widening of his eyes.

“Well?” Ichigo asks, not taking his blade away from Yammy’s throat.

Ulquiorra tilts his head. “I will have to confer with our Lord.”

Ichigo bristles. “You made a deal,” he snaps. He sees Achilles start to rise and Cu step out of the trees. The whisper of chains and serpents to his right reminds him that they aren’t alone. All it will take is one word for him and they’ll tear through both of them brutally.

“I didn’t think you would win.”

Ichigo will give it too him. He’s honest.

“We shall return, when Lord Aizen sees fit.”

Before Ichigo can move to stab him or give the order Ulquiorra turns and tears the air apart.

It splits like a mouth, gaping into a void. Unceremoniously Ulquiorra appears in front of Ichigo in a burst of insane speed and thrown Yammy straight through the gap.

Ichigo barely reacts in time to block a blow aimed at his head.

In a second the hollows vanish, Urahara appears with Yoruichi, and Ichigo starts cussing a blue streak.

*

Jekyll is red faced at breakfast the next morning, his shoulders hunched and his gaze guilty whenever it lands on Ichigo.

The girls notice, of course they do. Mash looks between the two curiously, and Mordred seems to come to her own conclusions because she mock gags and drags Fran away as soon as they’re done eating.

Alice and Jack as corralled by Mash, who shoots Ichigo a look as she escorts them out of the room and into another. The authors haven’t even emerged from their room. Admittedly, as servants they don’t need to eat, but its still nice to have everyone around the table, and Jack and Alice act like they’ve never eaten before in their lives.

(Ichigo very intentionally doesn’t look into the implications of that)

That leaves Ichigo alone with Jekyll, who takes one look at him, glances at his lap, and bolts for the door.

Ichigo is left watching him go. What the fuck is he supposed to do about this?

It’s easier dealing with children. It really, really is.

Ichigo taps his bracelet until Romani comes up on the coms.

“Ichigo! What’s going on?” Roman asks cheerfully. Ichigo can hear him take a sip of his coffee and hum.

“Nothing terrible just. Annoying. What do you do when someone’s convinced that their other personality has done something terrible to you, but you can’t explain that they didn’t and even if they did its not their fault for what the other them did because they won’t let you talk to them because they’re guilty and freaking out about what the them that they aren’t didn’t actually do?”

“... what ?”

“Uh. You know what. Never mind.”

“Wait, no, Ichigo I wanna know more what the fuck is happening down the-”

Ichigo hung up on him swiftly and stared down at his watch. God this was a stupid situation.

Jekyll acted like they’d just woken up in vegas or something.

And Ichigo has no idea how to fix it.

* *

Ichigo sits in the room in Urahara’s. Cu and Achilles are in the front of the store with the kids, and Medusa had gone to see to the girls, and make sure that they were safe. If someone had been sent to find him, there was always a chance that Aizen would send someone after the others too. He hated it, but he had to keep reminding himself that Aizen isn’t Kyo.

He isn’t the same person as the one he’d met in america. They haven’t fought and almost died together. Ichigo hasn’t shoved his very soul into Aizen’s. He hasn’t stayed night vigils on the restless river with him. He hasn’t held him while he begged for his memory.

Still.

Ichigo has promises to keep.

“What were you thinking?” Urahara asks, “Making a deal like that?”

He doesn’t even sound like he’s scolding Ichigo, for which he’s grateful. He might punch him if that was the case.

It’s strange sometimes. Urahara doesn’t patronize him nearly as much as other people have. People who’d known much more about what he was capable of and what he’d done in the past. He has a startling amount of faith in Ichigo. Even if he is a liar.

“I was thinking I need to have a … discussion, with Aizen,” he says at length.

Urahara’s brows shoot upwards. “A discussion.” He repeats.

Ichigo shrugs, and offers no other explanation. He said what he said, and he meant what he’d said too. He needs to talk to Aizen, if only to tell him the truth.

He may be a traitor to these people, and there’s a history between him and the exiles that Ichigo doesn’t know the details behind, but Ichigo has been to Seireitei. He’s talked with Kyo for hours, lamenting the state of the world and encouraging him to light the spark of revolution. He has no ill will towards him for betraying such a bad place. He barely begrudges him Rukia’s near execution.

Ichigo plays favorites. Sue him.

“Ichigo. He’s a very dangerous man. If you had gone what was your plan?”

“Are you trying to say you’re not dangerous?” Ichigo reasons, looking dead at him. Urahara has the decency to tilt his hat down.

“Certainly not. I would never lie to you like that, Kurosaki. We have a deal, don’t we?”

Ichigo shoots him a half a grin. “So we do.”

“And,” he adds, “My plan is the same as it always is. Charge in with a motley crew and make allies when I get there. It worked before.”

“These aren’t shinigami. They’re hollows.”

“It seems to me that at this point I’m as much a hollow as I am a shinigami. And, they were my enemies too. Does it really make that much of a difference? They clearly have personality and opinion. Not all of them can be on Aizen’s pay roll.”

Urahara considers this.

“It was still reckless.”

Ichigo leans across the table at him. “ I am reckless. It’s always served me well. Besides, I have people watching my back.”

“Yes, your friends. Who you’ve never explained.” Urahara shoots him a pointed look.

“I wasn’t just referring to them,” he nods to Urahara, who actually looks startled before he snaps his fan out to hide his mouth.

“That still doesn’t explain your friends.”

“No. You’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Ichigo did not grin when he said it, even if he wanted to. The truth is impossible, even for ghosts in most cases, but Urahara had had a hogyoku. He’d held the impossible and possible in his own hands and nourished its power for centuries. He can come to his own conclusions about Ichigo’s life.

Ichigo kind of wants to know just what they’ll be.

“Anyhow. What are we gonna do about the Drosiv?”

“Dro- what now?” Urahara genuinely looks befuddled.

“Well they’re hollows with shinigami power right? The opposite of Visord. So Drosiv. Do you have a better word for them?”

“... I do not.”

* * *

Gin watched the show Ulquiorra put on for the gathered arrancar.

On Aizen’s order, without even blinking, he ripped his own eyeball out and crushed it into dust.

First was the sight of the bloodied teenagers. A young girl with brilliant hair that looked far too much like Rangiku for Gin’s own personal comfort, a bulky boy who Yammy swatted like he was little more than a fly. The girl held up better. She was strong, and a fighter, but it was pretty clear she took no joy in fighting.

Then came Ichigo.

The first thing Gin noticed, besides his hair, was his sword.

When last they’d met it had been a massive, body length kyber knife. Now it was the same length but the ribbon had turned black and there was a hollowed out portion in the blade.

Even more surprising is the white knife, pattered in geometric blue that appears from inside his sleeve.

“Looks like yer boy is gettin’ new tricks, huh?” he tilts his head towards Aizen, who wears a smile that would make lesser men grow cold. It’s not even a cruel smile. It’s just far too interested for someone like Aizen. Gin almost pities little Ichigo Kurosaki. Almost.

As it looks now the kid knows how to hold his own, and how to be vicious. Which was not the vibe Gin got from him during their brief encounters in the Seireitei.

Determined yes. Stubborn yes. But not cruel.

“Let’s make a deal,” Ulquiorra met his gaze squarely. Brown burned at his, and now Gin’s too, with a jaw set hard.

“And just what would that be? ” he asked, his voice smooth and flat. Through the memory Gin can feel the most muted tick of interest. Funny, the last few times they’d done this he hadn’t felt anything besides mild annoyance.

“You work for Aizen, right?”  A redundant question. Ichigo adjusted his grip on his blade.  “If I win I want you to take me to him.”  

Ulquiorra looked briefly between the pair of them before he closed his eyes. It was dark for a long moment.

“So be it.”  

Gin kept looking at Aizen, watching him reactions even when Grimmjowstarted berating Yammy for his state and Ulquiorra for not simply killing the other two. Grimmjow was always picking fights.  

When they finally got the end, Aizen hummed.

“Interesting,” he said at last. “He wants to come here, then we’ll let him.” Aizen’s smile grew steadily.

Gin had a bad feeling about this.

* * * *

Yuzu was getting frustrated.

She wasn’t unused to being the weakest in the family. It wasn’t a surprise. Ichigo and Karin had taken all of the ghost power when they were born, and only left a little bit for her. Just enough for her to know when ghosts were around.

Not like the other two.

They could see them, interact with them, and even fight them. They were truly their mothers children.

For all Yuzu took over as a housewife once she was tall enough to touch the stove she had always felt the least connected to their parents.

Masaki had always been Ichigo’s world. She was a light for all of them but it was Ichigo that she doted on the most, and Ichigo that had clung so hard to her. Even after she died, Yuzu remembered the grieving more than her mother herself. Masaki was a distant memory, a warm and soft one that was corrupted by the rain of sorrow and the hole in the family that she’d left behind.

Yuzu remembered dark days, days when her dad wouldn’t talk to anyone, and when he brother paced the river bank looking for something that not a one of them could ever see.

Then, in those months, it had just been her and Karin.

It had been the two of them that had pushed their dad out of the house to find Ichigo when he stayed out in the rain. It was them that held each other in the dark of the night. It was them that cried for someone that they would barely remember in the years to come.

Then Karin had grown. She had taken the route of the tom boy, and despite his doting on her it was Karin who had more in common with their dad. Even their hair was the same.

And now it turns out that all of them had been able to see spirits the entire time.

Yuzu had always been the odd one out. Always.

So sometimes, when they go to visit the Ishida household she spends more time with Ryuken than practicing shooting like she’s supposed to. She can barely see what she’s doing, let alone form a proper weapon.

It’s frustrating, and it’s easier to find Ryuken and sit with him and do her homework while Karin tried to learn to fight from Uryu.

It’s during one of these sessions that Ryuken looks up from something he’s doing, hospital administration she assumed, and speaks.

“You should give this up. It will serve you better to focus on the living instead of the dead.”

Yuzu looks up at him. She feels older than 11. Sometimes she thinks she is.

“It would probably be easier,” she admits, “But… But this is something for us to remember our mom with. Did you know I only have three memories of her?”

Ryuken’s brows furrow minutely.

“I… did not.”

“Mhmm. I remember her in the kitchen. She had me sitting on the counter, and I was her taste tester for her curry recipe. It was way too spicy, but I liked it anyway. I liked the color it was. That was a long time ago…”

“I remember when me and Karin were first going to pre school. Dad was crying and making a fuss, and mom had to pry us out of his arms so we could go to class. She told him that he should be pushing us to explore, not trying to hide us away at home.”

She fell silent. Ryuken slowly leaned closer across his desk.

“And the third?”

Yuzu looks up at him. “I remember her funeral. I was the only one who could stand to look in the casket. She looked like she was sleeping. I kept waiting for her to open her eyes and tell us it was all a mistake, she was fine. But she never did.”

“No. I suppose she wouldn’t have. I remember that funeral.”

Yuzu startles. She hadn’t even realized he had been at it. “You do?”

“Mhmm. I always thought they’d picked the worst lipstick for her. She hated red with a passion. My mother always wanted to wear more make up, and look more lady like.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuzu said quietly. “You must miss her.”

Ryuken hummed. “She was my best friend.���

He stood at last. “If you’re really so serious about this, I may be able to help.”

Yuzu scrambled to her feet, her homework discarded, and rushed to follow him.

* * * * *

Ichigo was gonna kill someone.

He really, really was.

All he wanted to do was duel a hollow, jump through an interdimensional tear, and talk to his time travelled/mind wiped best friend so he could ask him about overthrowing the government but no!

No!

Now an entire band of dead people were standing in his homeroom, making a massive spectacle, and  how do they think they’re actually blending in right now?  

Ichigo looks at Hirako, who looks back at him with what might be his more honest expression to date. A frown.

“Don’t look at me fer help. I’m just a normal human person.”

“Oh yeah. A regular fellow human, you human fellow,” he drawls.

Rukia appears on the WINDOW of all things, her arms crossed and her chin lifted regalling.

“Ichigo! It’s time to talk.”

“Later,” Ichigo waved dismissively at her. “We’re about to start history. Sit down or take a step back, would ya?”

He ducks when Rukia flings herself at him with a vicious punch.

“And the rest of you! Sit down, what’s wrong with you?” Ichigo demands irritably. “Why does everyone insist on putting school on the back burner?”

“Why Ichigo, I had no idea you were such an academic!” Rangiku leaned right into his personal space, her blue eyes bright and teasing.

“I’m not,” he says flatly. “But the better I do the sooner I graduate. So. Sit.”

One by one the shinigami sit around the room, stirring up ripples of conflict.

Ichigo can feel a headache building behind his eyes and the bell hasn’t even wrung yet.

Couldn't they find him after school? Or just leave well enough alone?

  Stupid question. Of course they can’t. They’re my friends, after all.  

* * * * * *

[sky-writes-daydreams]

Cat in A Tree

Well Hiya peeps. Yes I’m still alive. I just haven’t had a lot of time or to be honest energy for writing. Work has been killing me. I finally got the urge to write again. If this gets decent Response, I might do more. So please enjoy. :) Also don’t forget I have an Ao3 by the same name as on here so... Yeah :)  Enjoy this bit of Saint Seiya Fluff!!! Cus yes I’m Saint Seiya trash now. It’s just so good. 

Another Request. At least this one was out of the city. You held the basket with one hand swinging it lightly as the warm summer breeze came and picked up your hair as it passed by. Under all of these trees, it honestly felt pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile gently as you wandered along the path.

You had just been trying to clean up around the house of the pope when Lord Aphrodite found you. He needed someone to do a bit of shopping for him. First it was just picking up some herbs and things so he could make his own shampoo. Now it was to fetch apples from the orchard. You didn’t understand his thinking but at least it got you out of Sanctuary for a while.

You were just humming gently to yourself when you heard something odd. It honestly sounded like a tree that was cursing up a storm. You stopped midstep, Honestly terrified you had been followed. Some of the younger male saints had a habit of trying for any young maiden from the pope’s house. Most of the time Pope Ares would tell them to back off but on the rare chance he didn’t, You feared for your safety.

Thankfully it seems you weren’t followed. You saw a small black cat jump out a tree close by and look at you curious before it headed out.

“Oh yeah, Yeah. Just hop on down…. You couldn’t help me back.” You gave the tree an odd look. Trees didn’t talk and that sounded like someone you knew. You walked closer leaving your basket by the base and looked up.

Dirty blond hair, cut short attached to a frowning face with gorgeous blue eyes staring down at yours.

“Oh. Um…” You couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to keep the bottom of his shirt up.

“Lord Aiolia?” He waved with one hand then.

“Hello (Y/N). Um… What brings you out here?”

“Lord Aphrodite wanted some fresh apples. I think he’s making that apple conditioner again.”

“Sounds it.” He tried to reach up to his foot and you saw. A thick branch had decided to lace itself with his sandal. He was stuck. You covered your mouth then trying not to laugh before you looked back up.

“Might I ask why a gold saint is in a tree?”

“Well…” He finally straightened out sighing.

“I followed a cat out here and up into the tree. But then the little bugger got stuck. So I had to climb further up to get it free. When I picked the poor thing up tho, It kind of spazzed and I lost my balance and Well… It got my shoe. Cat got down right?”

“Yep.”

“Right… Well…” You giggled then before you found a good foothold and pulled yourself up.

“You saved one cat. I’ll save another.”

“Huh?” He gave you a confused look before it sunk in.

“Oh Damn it!!!” You laughed then as You got in a safe location before you pulled out your knife. Most Maids weren’t allowed to carry one but since you went out into the city often, No one argued. A woman had to protect herself.

“I can fix your sandal later if you like.”

“Nah. These are older anyway.” You nodded as you reached up carefully and cut through the leather strap. The branch slipped free and Aiolia yelped before catching himself on a branch under him and swung around so he landed on his feet. You waited a few, Making sure he wouldn’t fall before you found your way down. He helped you off the final branch with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Just Funny our grand Leo Saint would get himself stuck in a tree like that.” He sighed then before smiling.

“Don’t tell the others?”

“Never.” You gave him a kind smile before you grabbed your basket.

“Well… Since we’re both here, Would you like to go apple picking with me? Maybe there’s more cats that need saving.”

“Hm… I think I’d rather just help a cute girl if that’s ok by you.” You felt your cheek go red as he easily takes the basket from you.

“Plus all the good apples are always at the top. You don’t need to be climbing trees in a dress.” You shrugged but easily fell into step beside him before picking a leaf out of his hair. Aiolia was always a kind man and honestly moments like this were some you held close to your heart. They made the harsh life in the pope’s house easier to deal with and served as a reminder. True knights did still exist. Even if they did sometimes get stuck in trees.

[stardancerluv]

Gotham Lockdown 2020

Part 8

Summary: You are cooking up in more then one way, the old feelings of the Black Mask Club, 5 months into the the lock down.

Warnings: Roman & Victor take seperate showers...nothing explicit there, sexual unfulfiled chemistry betweeb Roman & reader.

Side story to Creative Fervor

Lyrics are from Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carisle. The lyrics are bolded and put in italics.

This, time Roman was truly asleep and Victor had not come upstairs. So after taking a very nice long and hot shower you acted on an idea you had the night before.

Pulling on one of Roman’s t-shirt and leggings, you went to your walk in closet and found one of your favorite dresses, heels...the works everything needed to complete the look. Putting it all on a chair beside the elevator you hurried back to Roman’s office.

Sitting behind his desk you found some very nice paper. Your stomach curled sitting in his chair but you shrugged it off you were on a mission. Though some past exploits filled your minds eye at what the two of you had done in there. It made your heart flutter.

Taking a breath, you wrote out the first invitation to Roman.

Roman, my beloved tonight I invite you to the special and exclusive reopening of the Black Mask Club.

Tonight there will be some limited entertainment at the Black Mask. Additionally, there will be an elaborate dinner to be served. There will appetizers, a very fine main course and it will end with an exquisite dessert.

Drinks and cocktails will be offered and upon to request.

In order to attend, I wish to see you dressed in all of your glory. Choose one of your most beloved suits, glasses are optional but your shoes and socks are also to accompany and finish your look.

You may come down to the club around the party time of three pm. Enjoy, your afternoon till this exclusive event.

Kisses.

Y/N

You wrote one with the highlights of the invite for Victor. Happy with how they looked, you delivered the first invite to Roman. He was still sleeping away. You put it on his nightstand. He looked so wonderfully peaceful. This time you couldn’t resist and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back you ran to the elevator grabbing your stuff you headed to Victor’s floor. You had only been there a handful of times. You suppressed a giggle when you could hear him snoring. It did make it easier to find his room.

Spread wide across his bed, deep loud snores came from Victor’s sleeping form. Thankfully, some of his blanket covered him. You refused to imagine if he was actually naked under it.

You placed the invite on his nightstand. Hope he sees this, you mused. Then you ran off to the elevator.

Once downstairs, you brought your stuff to Roman’s office. Walking into the club you surveyed the area. You chose one of the medium tables and gathered some chairs around it. Quickly you hurried about, gathering decorations and transformed the table into a very nice display.

Climbing up on the stage, going backstage you lowered the screen then cued up one of the past performances to play. Roman kept them to watch at later times to see what could performances better.

*****

Roman, rolled over and waking up he realized your arm was thrown over him. He had grown used to it, something he never thought he’d ever want. Now that your arm wasn’t there he missed it. He was surprised to see you were not even there and your side had grown cold. Rolling to get out of bed, he finally saw the piece of paper. Throwing his legs off the side of the bed, he ran his fingers through his hair. Arching, his stretched as far as his body would allow and let out a very contented sigh. Grabbing the note, which he soon realized was an invite a smile spread across his face. You were so freaking cute.

Padding over to the shower, he shed his boxers and went into the shower. He turned on the water so it would be just the right level of hot. Standing there, it felt good to just have the water run over his body.

Grabbing his favorite of the washes, he soaped up his body. He liked it better when you did if, but he did sigh contently as he soaped up his hair. Images of the two of you in the shower brought a know of pleasure in his stomach.

Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel he wrapped it around his waist. Eying his reflection, he grabbed his razor and shaving cream.

Sometime later he smirked at his reflection, perhaps he’d sneak downstairs before the time. He was sure you wouldn’t mind.

*****

Victor woke up from darkness which was more welcome then his usual nightmare. Stretching he sat up and saw what you left on his nightstand. When he saw, he had to admit he was glad his blanket was still covering him. Things could have been more complicated since he slept in the nude.

Scratching the back of his head, he snatched the paper. He chuckled while reading it. Oh...Little bird, he mused always thinking of something for them to pass the time.

Getting up he made his way to his bathroom. Turning the knobs, he first turned the cold water. He loved how the cold pin pricks of cold would was over him. Rolling, his shoulders he stretched with a satisfying groan. He gave him a shake them he finally turned the hot water on.

Sighing, feeling his body relax he began to wash himself. This should be lots of fun. He had already discovered how good of a cook you were so be looked forward to what kind of spread you would put out.

You sat down on the stage. Phew, you sighed looking at the watch, an hour and a half had passed.

Wrapping a towel around his middle, went over to the mirror and wiped away the fog that had covered. Opening a jar, dipping his finger tips in just so he combed his fingers through his still wet hair. Happy that it was manageable he went to look through his clothes. Maybe he’s grab the suit he had taken from the tailor after making sure he got Roman’s suits.

******

Your music was loud, the kitchen smelled sweetly. You had just taken out the small cakes you had made. Once they were cooled you would decorate them.

You danced about the beat of the musics, occasionally signing loudly with the lyrics.

When you walked into the room

You pull me close and we start to move

And we're spinning with the stars above

And you lift me up in a wave of love

At the moment, you had just out the finishing touches on the appetizers. You double checked the recipe, realizing it still needed a dash of something you danced over to the spice rack.

When I feel alone, I reach for you

And you bring me home

You sang on the top your lungs, wiggling and swishing got back to to your dish you sprinkled it on the food. The tossing your hair from side to side you grabbed the tray and then slid it into the hot oven. Dancing to the sink, you wash you hands and then dry them on your apron.

When the night falls down

I wait for you and you come around

“And I certainly do that.” His voice was rich and deep in your ear. You let out a scream and turning you are greeted by a chuckling Roman.

“You are such a beast.” Holding yourself on the counter, you were able to reach up and turn down the music. Getting back down, you could feel the solidness of his body. You could’t resist the shiver of pleasure rippling through you as he kissed a special place on your throat, you closed your eyes at the wonderful sensation.

You licked your lips as you turned to face him. “Roman, you...

Shhh...he silenced you by putting a finger to your lips. “I missed you and what I just saw...” mmm, he made a soft sound. “Was worth sneaking down to see you.”

“What did you see?”

He gave you a half smile, the easily be lifted you up onto the counter. His hands snaking warm paths around your middle as he held you. “I saw enough.” He kissed you then, you should remain firm, you still have the main dishes to make but his kisses were more delicious. You moaned and melted against him.

With your heart racing, you broke the kiss. You were breathless, when he kissed you deeply, like that he did that to you. “Roman, please I still have so much left to do.” You rubbed your hands up and down his torso, he dragged your hands to where his belt sat on him. You bit your bottom lip. “I’m serious.” You looked into those blue eyes that did so many things to you.

He then brought your hands to his lips, he placed a kiss on your knuckles. “Y/N,” he exhaled. “As you know, I always take what I want, when I want it.”

You nod. “I do.”

“But I can see from the condition of this kitchen,” there were bowls and food and dustings of spices and herbs left and right. “You are quite busy making this special.” Then he leaned in raising his eyebrows, “Victor will also be attending this exclusive opening?” He asked good naturally.

You nodded. “I wanted it to feel like old times.”

“My baby girl, always thinking.” He brought your hands down.

You shrug, “I try.”

“But baby...” His voice, grew deep and velvety once again. “I want to pick up where we left of.”

Now you were the one who drew closer. “Believe me, we will.” And you placed a very seductive lick on his throat.

He exhaled a little harsher. “My little minx.”

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obession @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @starwarsprequelfangirl @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @whyisgmora @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26

[fuwafuwamedb]

Kishi Nami Services Pt 5 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Artoria)

Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4

___

Artoria was a vision of blue. Deep azure blue.

She had her hair loose for once, a bow keeping the front part of her hair tied back so she could still function. There were diamonds and silver around her neck for her necklace. She had beautiful lace gloves that were clearly handwoven lace.

Truly, there was nothing more stunning in the restaurant this evening other than her. Hakuno felt her own heart skip a bit at the sight of her. She was so tempted to go over and compliment the living daylights out of her. However, this was Gilgamesh and Artoria’s date. This was their night to be together and to get to know one another.

She stood in waiting, next to the host.

And- right on cue- came Gilgamesh.

This was a five star restaurant. It was one of those places where suits and ties were needed. It was a place that took only the most upscale. Hakuno herself had called in a favor from one of Artoria’s friends, despite her making the woman agree not to bring them along. Bedivere had made her change three times before telling her that she was finally dressed well enough to get passed the hosts near the door.

However, Gilgamesh was wearing jeans.

Not only was he wearing denim jeans, but he was wearing absolutely no shirt whatsoever. A gold necklace hung over his chest. A black jacket with red and gold trim was buttoned over his upper torso, both showcasing and censoring his body from being exposed to the room.

Geez!

Artoria was already raising a brow as he addressed her, her smile faltering.

“Y-You’re Gilgamesh?”

“That would be me.”

“Sir-“

Gilgamesh flashed his business card. The host backed down.

“…right this way.”

Gilgamesh offered his arm. When Artoria hesitated, he took it anyway.

Not good. Not good at all.

Rin and Cu had had their fair share of bad starts though. She’d seen Miss Sakura Matou and Shirou Emiya have their share as well. No couple failed to have some awkwardness. For those in power, these awkward moments were much more likely.

Come on, Gil.

Gilgamesh pulled her chair out a bit for her. He helped her into the seat and pushed her chair in, careful of the dress skirts. Although Artoria still looked a bit perturbed, she was going with things.

Bad fashion could be improved slowly.

Although, in his defense, Gilgamesh did hold a stunning, untouchable vibe to him.

The man was offered a menu, he waved it off.

“Merlot. A dry one. Get me the 12 ounce steak and make it medium rare. I’m not sure what my companion will be having so feel free to give her a moment by discussing the specials.”

He knew the place. He knew it well. It was unsurprising since he had chosen the place, but he had offered Artoria some time. She had the opportunity to tell the host to give them a moment for her to decide.

Instead, Artoria was still frowning. She listened to the menu and ordered three different platters.

“Are you inviting guests?”

Hakuno winced, motioning for Bedivere to sit.

Bad choice, but Artoria did have a voracious appetite. It was disconcerting at first. She just needed to say she enjoyed eating and maybe talk about her restaurants with the knights. It was a Segway kind of conversation topic. It didn’t have to be bad-

“Is there a problem with a woman knowing how to eat? Some of us like looking like we hydrate.”

Not great. She was defensive though.

Surely Gilgamesh saw that this was a touchy subject. He’d probably had some fickle women in the past be this way with him during important events and things. He was probably able to navigate properly around-

“Do I look dehydrated to you?”

“The muscle definition is a sign of dehydration when it’s as bad as yours.”

“Bad? I was unaware that you were taking the time to ogle me instead of thinking about what to eat here. Does the place lack that much interest or did I simply shine too brightly?”

Artoria shook her head, fixing her napkin onto her lap and pulling her gloves carefully off.

“What do you do, Artoria?”

“I run a business.”

Gilgamesh raised a brow.

Easy, Gil, Hakuno pleaded mentally. Easy. She’s a good person.

“What kind of business?”

“I run a chain of restaurants.” Artoria smiled, holding up her glass of water. “The fairest of restaurants at that. None of this political nonsense and ladder business. The business is family and so is every person within it. We make decisions with all the managers of the chains. We listen to our employees and allow their unions to come to meetings to discuss grievances. I always compromise as well. It’s best-“

“So it’s more like a cult than a business.”

“Excuse me?”

Hakuno motioned for Bedivere to sit as their food came. This was not the time for intervention. They were here to watch, to listen. They were not here to participate.

Artoria was glaring at Gilgamesh though, waiting.

“Your business can’t survive with the concept of constant compromise. A business is run by their leaders, not their employees. Bending to whims means you stand for nothing.”

“We are the best restaurant chain in Fuyuki.”

“Camelot Knights, huh?” Gilgamesh laughed, leaning back against the back of his seat and giving her an almost pitying look. “I’ve seen your business and its functionings. I suspect a coup will end you in the next few years. My friend and I have been looking forward to watching.”

No.

Goodness no.

Hakuno groaned setting down her fork as Artoria stared at the man a moment.

Bedivere was already standing up, motioning to the woman.

“You know what?” Artoria stood up, flashing Gilgamesh a dark smile. “I hope your choke on your steak.”

“Excuse me?”

Artoria slammed her heel down on the man’s foot, taking his water glass and pouring it over his head. The moment that was done, she moved to the door, followed closely by Bedivere.

No no no no no!

She was in motion before she could stop herself, her hands were in her purse, pulling the thing along and pulling out her small towel. She grabbed Artoria’s chair and pulled it over, finding Gilgamesh toweling at his face and moving his soaked napkin away so she could dry him off properly.

“…You’re here?”

“I always sit nearby for dates. Didn’t you read the contract?”

Hakuno shook her head at him, motioning for one of the hosts and demanding a couple more towels. One of the other hosts brought her meal over, setting it where Artoria’s would have been placed.

“We will tell the kitchens to cancel her order,” one of the men told them quietly. “The bathrooms are to the left end of the room.”

Thankfully, Gilgamesh wasn’t really wearing a shirt, but…

“Hold on,” Hakuno told him, fumbling with her purse again. She grabbed a comb, brushing the man’s hair back and ignoring the eyebrow raise.

“…How many of these dinners have you gone on to have this many supplies?”

“Enough.”

She wouldn’t mention the burner phone, the lighter, the batteries, the taser, or the emergency hotline numbers in case of poisonings. What she had was all necessary and when she was without them, she was at a loss.

A bottle of wine and two wine glasses were placed on the table. Hakuno could see that her plate was replaced with a freshly made version of what she had ordered.

“You don’t have another date in there, do you?”

“I don’t, unfortunately.”

It was a shame, but… she was not a miracle worker. Clearly she needed to pick someone more in his vein of interests. Opposites did not always attract.

It was a shame.

“You may as well sit and dine with me,” Gilgamesh told her simply. Let’s at least save face for this place, lest they know both the owners of Camelot Knights’ restaurants and Uruk Enterprises both left their establishment without eating.”

His eyes went to her plate, to the steak platter she’d ordered.

“I ordered the same thing you did,” she told him. “It seems we have that in common. Do you want to share until your order comes?”

“I am not so impatient that I must dine on another’s plate.” The wine was being poured now, Gilgamesh’s bemused expression softening. “However, I can appreciate someone with sense. Do you drink?”

“Occasionally.”

“I’ve had my foot stomped on and my person splashed with sparkling water. Tonight, we’ll drink to proper companionship.”

“You could have been easier about her business.”

Gilgamesh sipped at his glass, humming appreciatively before those eyes turned to her. “And why would I do that? A woman who cannot handle someone being honest with them should not look for someone in the first place. She would have heard my words in time if she did not hear them upfront.”

Perhaps, but…

Well, it didn’t matter.

She sat next to him, their chairs close together and their eyes roaming over the other patrons. He’d undone his jacket, leaving her to roll her eyes at him and ask where his shirt had gone.

“Is this not a good outfit?”

“It’s distracting.”

“I am distracting. Unerringly so.”

“Yes, you are,” Hakuno agreed, sipping at more of her wine.

“And you are getting tipsy,” he pointed out, tilting her chin back. “You have an interesting blush to your face, Hakuno.”

“I’m not a toy, Gilgamesh. I’m here for you.”

“You are, aren’t you? So reliable.”

He smiled, the sight doing something weird to her stomach.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“I could get a taxi.”

“I have my car here. I will see you home myself.”

She sipped her wine, looking for courage in the bottom of the glass. What she found instead was warmth and the promise of a dry ride home. It was raining a bit this evening, from what she could see in the window. A quick ride to her apartment would be nice.

Even better, Gilgamesh ordered dessert. The liquor infused chocolates were absolutely breath-taking, leaving her to hum appreciatively.

“Try the caramel liquor,” the man bid, holding up a confection only for her to hum again.

“The mint would be more to your interest. Try it,” she told him, holding up another one of the treats.

Patrons were almost gone when they finally stood from their table.

She stumbled a bit, but the golden haired man held her close, his arm around her waist and his jacket around her shoulders.

She closed her eyes as she was settled into a leather seat.

Warmth was radiating from the leather. The sound of the rainfall in the distance and the soft music from his car speakers were doing wonders to let her mind drift.

“Are you falling asleep?” Gilgamesh’s voice asked from somewhere nearby.

“no…”

A small chuckle came.

Something pressed softly to her lips.

“You are a terrible liar, Hakuno. However, you are nothing if not entertaining. I’ll get you to bed soon enough.”

Bed sounded nice.

Hopefully, it was as warm as his seat.

[twilightbimbo]

Solstice pt 1: Twilight AU

This is an expansion of the Twilight universe with my OC characters!

                                    home is where the heart is

                                    and i’m afraid

                                   i’ve lost my way

Samson

“Why do you think you’ll win? I know when you’re bluffing,” I chided, laughing. Esther rolled her eyes with mild amusement. Esther is the most competitive one in our family and she always tries to best me in poker, despite the fact that I have the gift for sniffing out inauthenticity. 

“‘Cus you suck at poker,” Esther pulled up the corner of her lips in a slight smirk and laid out her winning hand. 

“Har har,” I huffed in frustration. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I realized what was happening. “You assholes!” I exclaimed. Suddenly, the cards of Esther’s winning hand became fuzzy and resembled a glitching computer monitor and then smoothed out into her true, losing hand. I looked up at Esther who was nearly hysterical, tears in her golden eyes from laughing and clutching Chip’s arm. 

“Sorry, brother,” Chip smiled softly and brushed a lock that fell out of Esther’s bun and brushed it behind her ear. I booed loudly and pushed the deck of cards off the dining table between Esther and me in mock anger. 

“Clean that up, Sam,” Sunny said to me without even looking in my direction as she walked past with a basket of laundry. Sunny liked to blend in more than the rest of us. “Keeps us humble,” is one of her favorite phrases. Sunny is the matriarch of our family, even though she is the youngest of us. Technically. 

“Sam, if you couldn’t cheat, you would be terrible at poker,” Stella yelled from her upstairs bedroom. Stella didn’t need to yell, she could even whisper it and we would be able to hear her. But, Sunny forces us to act human at all times, even in our own house. Where no one can see us. Or hear us. Sunny’s word is law. 

Nathalia 

If I was human, I would be panting from running this hard and far. Actually, if I was human I couldn’t run like this at all. I still let air rush in and out of my lungs naturally, tasting the forest around me. I had been feeling the urge to see the ocean lately. I miss home. But, I can’t go back there for a lot of reasons. Mainly because it’s always sunny down there. So, the Oregon coast is perfect for my needs, it’s overcast here the majority of the time. And it felt familiar here, the beach was always a constant for me until I died.

 I have been on the run for three years. That is so dramatic to say, but it’s true. I’ve been through nearly all of California, eastern Oregon, and about every rural area in Washington. I haven’t been around the general public in what seems like forever. If forever means three years and three hundred and sixty-two days. I’ve missed normalcy. I’ve missed being able to call a place my own. I miss belonging to something.

The trees began to clear as the river widened and gray light bled between the branches above as they became more sparse. I slowed down into a more relaxed jog, my damp hair starting to cling from my shoulders all the way to the small of my back. I relaxed my pace completely as I could see the river desperately reaching the ocean, letting my bare feet sink into the mossy and wet forest floor. I walked slowly until the ground turned into sand. I tilted my face up towards the sky and let the gentle rain kiss my face. 

The waves crashing is familiar and it eased some of my longing. Longing? God, I’ve become so pretentious. In my human life, I couldn’t stand being alone for longer than hours and now I’ve gone years. I guess loneliness changes you. 

While I was roaming in Washington, I heard there were vampires who tried to pretend to be humans and go to school and stuff. I was transformed only a year after I graduated high school and I didn’t get the chance to go to college. I had my eyes on the University of California, Los Angeles. But, here I am. Not alive, but also alive. On a beach. In the middle of fucking nowhere. 

“Hey! Aren’t you cold?” A voice called out to me from down the beach. I’ve been practicing for this. I turned my head slowly, trying to be careful of the speed of my movements. I looked down at myself briefly. I was wearing a thin, gray sweater with jeans. And barefoot. It’s probably in the low forties right now and getting colder. So much for attempting to blend in. I looked back at their direction and while I was definitely too far away, I smiled tentatively at them. 

“Got thick skin!” I yelled back, shrugging. The person behind the voice was an older man, the wind carried his scent towards me. I could smell the warm blood and as he slowly approached me, I could hear his faint heartbeat. It would be too easy. In half a second I would be right in front of him, pushing his head back to expose his neck. His red cap would fall off and in my frenzy, I would probably tear apart his windbreaker. Blood on the sand. My eyes red. 

Nope, nope, nope. I’ve gone three years without tasting human blood. I’m not going to fuck this up now. I turned on my heel and went back to the forest, as soon as I was certain I was covered by the thick swarm of trees I took off sprinting. 

Where am I supposed to go now? I need to get better clothes to blend in. I need to find a place to live. “Live”. To be frank, I had it pretty easy. I never had to worry about this kind of stuff. In the distance, I can hear cars sporadically driving on the wet pavement. If there are cars, there are people and if there are people, there are clothing stores and libraries. I changed my direction in order to run parallel to the highway giving myself about a half a mile distance between me and the road. 

It wasn’t much longer, maybe twenty miles or so before I saw neon light tinge the fog and the smell of car exhaust got stronger. Smelled disgusting. I thought about how I would be able to wander into some random mom and pop shop to get clothes without sticking out. I’ve been practicing my self control but it’s much easier when I hold my breath. How can I go without talking to the small town locals without seeming like a bitch? I guess the only thing I can do is hope what they say about first impressions isn’t true. 

Luckily enough for me, the river, which had dwindled down to a creek, ran close enough to the highway so I could wash my feet and legs so I could look less dirty and homely. Unfortunately, about every person I passed stared at me. Everyone has dressed appropriately for the wintery beach weather. Except for me. 

The first clothing shop that looked like it could have clothes for people “my age” and nearly completely empty was the first one I walked into. I bought nearly everything. Well, bought is a loose term. It was about four days after my transformation that I realized I had an ability. A “super talent” he called it. If I want someone to do something I want, they do it. It’s never something intense like falling in love with me or giving me their kidney or anything like that. It’s small stuff like if I want their approval I got it. If I want their coffee, they hand it over. Small stuff like that. 

The shopkeeper handed over around six hundred dollars in merchandise with a bright smile on her face. I made a mental note to make an anonymous donation as soon as possible. Sometimes I felt bad about swindling people, sometimes I felt like it was a necessary evil. A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. 

It wasn’t that hard finding the library after the shops, and lucky for me, the librarian allowed me to stash my shopping bags behind her desk. The public computer whirred to life slowly, I could practically hear the viruses worming around. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, or even where. I tried local listings, Craigslist, even some dark web shit. It wasn’t until I caved and made a fake Facebook account that I was able to find a single bedroom apartment to rent. 

The man who owned the place was rather kind. I hardly had to use my ability to sway him to let me live rent free for the next foreseeable future. His name was Ernie and he had quite the beer belly and a bald spot on the back of his head, reminding me vaguely of a freshly cracked egg.  I assume that he felt quite flattered that I was flirting with him. Actually, it could have been the innate human experience of being my prey who is inevitably lured to his death by my inhuman womanly charm. Who could say?

The apartment was painfully small but fully furnished. I couldn’t say if it was fully furnished as a part of the lease, which I did not have, or my newfound landlord was just too caught up in our conversation. I’ve been told I dazzle people. Whatever that means. A large full length mirror hung in the bedroom and I took a full look at myself for the first time in a long time. 

My dirty blonde hair was a mess. I think I can see a dread forming in the curly mess. My black eyes peered back at me in disbelief, how could I let myself go like this? Dark circles clung around my eyes covering the splatter of freckles on my face, I looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. More like years, I chuckled to myself. I need to feed soon. An uncommitted corner of my mind thought aimlessly about what animals are in my vicinity. The other portion of my mind looked back in the mirror. I still was pale as before, still more beautiful than I ever was as a human. It’s weird, feeling this conceited but it was true. My very nature was to lure humans in, even more so with my ability. I can get humans to literally lay before me, neck exposed. But, I promised myself a while ago to never feed on humans again. 

This place was definitely not intended to be left fully furnished, a laptop laid on the desk in my new bedroom. I realized I never learned about this town before I decided on it. The ocean picked me. I wiped the laptop and set it up under my preferences. This time, password protected. My google search reminded me I’m currently in Brookings, Oregon. I had made a mental note earlier when I saw the welcome sign out of the corner of my eye on my way into town. 

Oh, perfect! I exclaimed internally. There is a local community college that happened to offer marine biology courses. Marine biology was my intended major before this happened to me. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I’m being an idiot and making stupid choices by surrounding myself with humans. But, honestly, I’m lonely and I don’t think I can take this punishment much longer. 

Part 2

[butsomeofusarelookingatthestars]

Hii could u pls do something where ur pregnant and ur a doctor and u see a little kids Dad die and u get really sad cus u don’t want ur kid to have to go through that because Luke has a dangerous job and he tries to console u but ur just really scared of losing him?? I feel like Luke himself would have those thoughts 😭

Losing You

Fandom: Criminal MindsPairing: Luke Alvez x ReaderPrompt: Request

Description: A distressing case at the hospital causes you to think about your own situation.

I adored writing this one! I actually think it may be one of my favourites. I think you’re dead on with feeling that Luke would have worries about it. Also, if anyone wants to see any more of angsty dad!Luke there’s plenty coming up in IYF!

Your hand trembled slightly as you rested it on your growing bump, tears building up in your eyes and threatening to overspill as the horror of the day finally sunk it.

As a doctor, you were used to difficult days at work and you had experienced countless tragedies. It never got easier to lose a patient, but you had learnt how to compartmentalise your emotions and how to cope with the loss.

You had to be the best doctor you could be and a part of that was ensuring that you persevered through the tragedies in order to make a difference to others.

However, nothing could have prepared for you for the scene you had witnessed today. The case affected you in a way no other had ever. The man who had slipped away had been a husband…a father. It was that thought that haunted you.

You had been frozen in shock at the hospital as his widow broke down in front of you, the sound of children crying seemed to echo through your head as she desperately tried to soothe them. But, losing their father was something that would change them forever.

Their family was broken.

A gentle flutter in your stomach made you caress your stomach, a stray tear slowly tracking down your face as you glanced down at your baby bump. You knew exactly why the case today had gotten to you so much. Why you couldn’t let it go.

It could easily be you in that situation one day, crying over losing the love of your life and the father of your child.

As if sensing your distress, Roxy trotted over to nuzzle your hand affectionately – quickly leaping up onto the sofa in order to snuggle up beside you. Your intuitive dog seemed to know that you needed comforting, hoping that her warmth could reassure you and ease your apparent anguish.

Ever since the start of your pregnancy, she had become increasingly protective of you – often following you around the apartment just to keep a close eye on you.

Luke had been thrilled at her protectiveness, insisting that she was already the ‘best big sister’ your baby could ask for. He had often spoken about Roxy’s ability to help others. After all, she had supported him through some of his worst moments in the regiment and the trauma that followed.

But, you had never realised that she had grown to love you so much until she began to sleep at the foot of your bed – acting as a furry footwarmer while Luke was away as if sensing that you and the baby needed a little extra comforting in his absence.

You knew how much it reassured Luke to know that you had her around when he was working a case. However, it seemed as if he were completely oblivious to the dangers he himself faced.

You had always known Luke was the type of person who loved the adrenaline rush that came with demanding jobs. A former ranger wasn’t expected to sit comfortably behind a desk and you immensely respected his determination to help make a difference to others.

But, that didn’t mean that you didn’t worry.

In the past, it had always been at the back of your mind that you might one day receive the phone call to tell you things had gone wrong in the field. But, ever since you had found out you were expecting, old concerns came flooding back with overwhelming force.

Sometimes it felt as if the fear was consuming you. Whether it was waking up with a scream on your lips as you suffered from all-to-vivid nightmares or bugging Luke to send you a goodnight text every night he was away – the news had changed your life.

Before, you had always worried about losing the love of your life. But, now losing the father of your child made the thought truly unbearable. Being left alone was your greatest fear and it was one that constant lurked in your mind, striking out at your most vulnerable moments.

It was a dangerous job and there was nothing that could change that. You had no control over whether or not Luke would return home or not…and that petrified you.

He just couldn’t understand why every time he was late home, you looked so relieved. Nor could he grasp why you got so nervous when he fell asleep before responding to your texts.

He didn’t understand the question that constantly loomed in your mind. What if?

The sound of the door opening caused you to glance up, relief filling your eyes as they landed on Luke. You quickly turned your head away from him, wiping at your face in order to desperately try to hide the evidence of your tears.

He bent down to press a tender kiss on top of your head, dropping his go-bag to the floor as he approached the front of the sofa.

It had always been the first thing he did once he got home, giving you a kiss.He outstretched a hand to fondly scratch Roxy behind her ears, grinning as she licked his hand appreciatively. He always loved returning home to his two favourite girls.

“How are you?” He murmured softly, turning his attention back to you.

A slight frown played on his lips as he took in your glistening cheeks and pained eyes, noting how withdrawn you seemed. His eyes softened, their warm brown depths filling with concern, as they landed on the hand on your stomach.

“Is everything okay?” He asked quietly, his voice strained with worry. Fear stirred in his stomach as he wondered if something was wrong with the baby. He had never seen you like this before.

“I- I-” You choked on your words as your body began to shake, tears flooding silently down your face.

Luke immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace as you sobbed into his chest. He shushed you softly as he tucked your head under his chin, one hand tracing soothing patterns on your back as the other drifted to stroke your hair.

“I’m here.”

Those were the only words he murmured as he held you protectively against his chest, trying to assure you that you weren’t alone.

Eventually, your cries subsided – leaving you clutching at his tear-stained shirt in attempt to remain close to his warmth. His heartbeat provided reassurance as you tried to reason with yourself that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I lost a patient.”

Your whisper was almost inaudible, stifled by his shirt. Your voice filled with sadness as the tears continued to stream down your face.

“I’m sorry.”

Luke knew how hard it was for you to lose a patient. Your compassion was one of the things he loved most about you and it helped to make you an outstanding doctor. But, it also made the losses a lot harder on you. He also knew how you felt – all-too-familiar with the gut wrenching feeling of not being able to help someone in need.

The burden was too much.

“He was a father.”

Your strangled voice told him everything. He immediately knew why you were so upset. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t worried about the exact same thing, obsessing over it ever since you had announced you were pregnant. The thought of leaving his family behind was one that had caused him many sleepless nights.

“He left his family alone.”

He moved up to sit beside you, sandwiching you between his warmth and Roxy’s, before pulling you against his chest protectively. His hands drifted down to gently caress your stomach, humming softly like he had been doing for the past few months. He wanted your baby to know his voice.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me…or to us.” He told you firmly, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“You don’t know that.” You whispered quietly, you almost didn’t want to share your fears with him because you knew it hadn’t been easy on him recently.

Balancing the chaos of the BAU with the responsibilities of being an expectant parent could leave him feeling slightly drained – both physically and emotionally. You didn’t want to add to his stress, but you couldn’t keep your feelings a secret from him anymore.

Your words had been the ones Luke had been dreading because he knew they were the truth. The unpredictability of being a SSA and the very real dangers he faced on a daily basis were things he had feared himself. He wanted to be there to see his child grow up and a career in the FBI could cost him that dream.

The loss of Stephen had hit him hard. Having to hold Monica in his arms as the incredibly strong woman broke down with grief had been a moment that had haunted him ever since. The sight of his distraught son and daughter at his funeral had given him nightmares.

What if it were you standing there one day, dressed in black and comforting your child as you wept over his coffin?

It was the reality of the possibility that truly terrified him and no amount of promises would lessen the threat.

“What if I lose you?”

He shook his head determinedly at your words. No matter how valid both your fears were, right now you had to live in present and not worry about the future. One thing he was certain of was that your love was something that could never be broken.

He gently laced his fingers through yours as he moved your intertwined hands to your stomach, tenderly caressing the ever-growing bump. You felt a familiar fluttering as your baby moved against your hands. It was almost as if he or she knew that you both needed the comfort.

Luke smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss on your temple as he felt your baby kick against his hand. This was his family and there was one promise he could always keep.

“You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

[p-artsypants]

320 State Street (15)- November 19, 2016

FF.net | Ao3

Previous

--

“I just want to make a return.”

Gobber’s Goods was uncharacteristically busy. Between salt, shovels, anti-freeze, rakes, and lawn bags every customer that would need to winterize their homes came in at the exact same time and there was a line from the counter and around the shelves. Hiccup and Gobber were busy helping everyone who came through the door to find exactly what they were looking for.

Meanwhile, Astrid was rushing every customer through the line as fast as possible. But as retail dictated, when patience was needed, that’s when it was least.

Astrid smiled to the man’s humble request. “I would love to do that for you, but I’m afraid you’ll have to get in line.”

“Well, that’s not fair.” The man said rudely.

The customer that she had be serving when he interrupted added in, “that isn’t fair. You can’t tell him to get in the back of the line for that.”

“I want to see a manager.”

Astrid glanced over to Hiccup who was seemingly having three different conversations with three different people.

It was amazing actually.

Behind the current customer, stood a usual. A man who worked for her uncle Finn and came in once or twice a week. He smiled at her, patiently.

“You know what, I’ll just take care of you after I finish with her.” Astrid gestured to the woman in front of her.

The man with the returned nodded in thanks, and seemed much more pleasant. Protests came from the line.

When the usual customer, a man named Bjorn, came up to the counter, he was still smiling.

“Thank you for your patience,” she sighed, exhausted.

“Oh sweetheart. People are so impatient and mean spirited. None of it is your fault, and you’re just being sweet as pie. Don’t let them poison you, and your day will get better.”

Astrid nearly cried at his kindness.

After the line got through, everything calmed down. Then it was dead again.

“Haven’t had a day like that since the spring. You’d think there was going to be a blizzard tomorrow.” Gobber said, cracking his back.

“I hope not.” Astrid said, leaning forward on the counter. “I’m got some moving to do.”

Hiccup smiled at her and took two soda’s out of the fridge. “Right, do you have everything packed?”

She winced. “Mostly. But I didn’t pack up my bathroom stuff. Is your dad helping tonight?”

“He was going to,” Hiccup explained, “but Mom decided to come a little early to miss the Thanksgiving rush, so he’s going to pick her up from O’Hare, and then they’ll stay in Chicago for the night.”

“How cute.” Astrid smiled, “I guess we’re on our own then.”

“Packing?” Asked Gobber, “why is she packing?”

Hiccup smiled broadly and Astrid looked away shyly. “I invited Astrid to come with me to Africa, and she has accepted. She’s moving into my basement suite to save up money for the plane ticket.”

“Why didn’t you offer to finance her?” Gobber asked, unashamed.

“Because I don’t want to be in debt to anyone else.” Astrid said simply. “He did offer, but I declined. It’s not fair.”

Gobber scratched the back of his neck. “You sure you two can handle this? Africa is a long way away, and living together…”

“We’re not really living together, because the basement suite is kind of it’s own thing. It has a kitchen and everything. And if you’re afraid we’ll break up, I wouldn’t worry,” provided Hiccup. “I love Astrid with all my heart, and I intend to marry her, when the time is right.”

He considered it a moment. “And the lady?”

“I want to marry him too,” said Astrid with a nod. “I had never thought of myself as the marrying kind. Most girls dream of their weddings and how many kids they’ll have…but I didn’t. Even with Scott I thought ‘this isn’t going to last forever.’” She glanced over to her boyfriend. “But with Hiccup…every second we’re away, I can feel it. Like, he’s an extension of myself, and when he’s gone, I’m incomplete.”

“Like a soulmate,” Hiccup finished.

“Yeah, exactly like a soulmate.”

They were both brought out of the moment by a loud sniffing sound. “Oh Thor and Odin above, that was beautiful.”

“Oh you!” Hiccup rolled his eyes and gave the man a nudge with his elbow. “You’re such a big softy.”

“Well, just let me know when you’re planning on tying the knot, I’ll write a lovely tambourine solo for you.”

“Please don’t.”

—

Astrid and Hiccup drove together in her jeep to her house.

“I’m home!” Astrid called out to her crazy roommate.

“You don’t need to be so loud!” screamed the reply, louder than she had.

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Hiccup’s here, just so you know.”

“Hi Eleanor,” Hiccup said politely. The roommate was usually in a better mood when he used her…other name.

Said girl walked out of her room, stark naked.

Hiccup yelped at his burning retinas and covered his face in his hands. “Oh come on! Not again!”

“Dude, I even told you he was here.” Astrid exasperated.

“I don’t understand why you make such a big deal about nudity.” Said Eleanor. “I just came out to get my phone. Then I will be getting dressed and leaving for the night. I don’t want to deal with your noise.”

Astrid shrugged. “You were the one that wanted me to move out before Thanksgiving.”

“Because my new roommate is moving in after Black Friday, and I must have ample time to cleanse the apartment before she arrives.”

“I’m going to clean up after I leave. I’m not just going to leave garbage everywhere.”

“I don’t mean physically,” said Eleanor.  

“Oh…” “Is it save to look yet?” Hiccup asked, his eyes still covered.

Eleanor turned at went back into her room.

“You’re good.”

Hiccup looked up with a sigh. “I’ve seen more of that woman then I ever wanted to.”

“Me too,” Astrid agreed. “Anyways, I’ll get started packing up my bathroom stuff, and you can start loading some boxes in my jeep.”

“Okay, but I might need some help with some of the heavier ones.”

The couple set to work, first by propping the door open with a rock for easy loading.

“So, we took most of the stuff in your room last time, what’s this time? And how are we going to get the furniture over there with just the Jeep?”

“Most of the furniture I’m just going to give to the new roommate. The suite does have a bed, right?”

“Right. It was a desk and a little bedside table.”

“Closet?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. So I don’t think I really have to take any furniture, except…” She went to her room as Hiccup followed after. It was a small room, with one window. A big suitcase sat in the corner with a lot of clothes and other accessories. Another hamper of laundry sat next to that. She had her modest library packed into a box. Then, another smaller box sat on her desk.

“This lamp was actually made by my dad, so I’d like to take it with me. I might not be able to take it to Africa though.” The lamp had a wooden body with swooping branches that came off of it, like swan necks.

“That’s fine, and you might not be able to take it on this trip, but if you end up coming back with me next time, we can bring it then.” He smiled at her.

Astrid looked over the white walls of her room, which were now stripped of all her personal items. “I feel like I’m in limbo. I don’t really know what to do with my stuff, because I’m not going to be settled in a place for very long.”

Hiccup walked up to her, and wrapped his arms around her. “I kind of feel the same way. Three years in Africa might seem like a long time, but it really isn’t.”

“You can accumulate a lot of junk in three years though.” Astrid gestured to the room around her.

“Which is why you and I are going to adopt a minimalist life style.”

She sighed, “easier said then done.”

He smiled at her, and kissed her nose. “Let’s take out that box of books together, I’m sure it’s heavy as balls.”

So as Astrid finished packing up the bathroom and other miscellaneous items, Hiccup took out the already packed boxes in her room and in the bathroom. At about 10 pm, Hiccup fell on his rump in the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” Astrid asked, seeing him on the floor.

“Nothing,” he assured with a smile. “I’m just a little tired.”

“Oh that’s fine, don’t you want to sit on the couch?”

He waved her off, “if I sit somewhere comfortable, I’m not going to be able to get up later.”

Astrid laughed, lightly. “Sorry we got started so late. We should have put this off until tomorrow.”

“Nope, I said we’d get you moved out in two days. Yesterday we packed everything up. Today is loading day. I don’t mind staying up a little late for you. Besides, we’re almost done.”

Astrid smiled sweetly. “Well, I really appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

Hiccup smiled wearily at her.

“Take all the time you need. I’m almost done. I just want to make sure the bathroom is nice and clean, like I promised for Eleanor.”

Almost as soon as she left the room, Hiccup heard the door slam.

He wondered if Eleanor had returned early, or if Astrid was just closing it for the time being, but then he heard her speak.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…I miss you, Astrid. Please take me back.” Scott’s sickening voice spoke from the living room.

“No, absolutely not.” Astrid stated, coming closer to the kitchen.

“Please Astrid, I need you.”

“No Scott,” she spoke, in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’ve moved on and I’m very happy. You should leave.”

Scott caught a glimpse of Hiccup on the floor and only saw red.

“Oh hey Cus…H-How’s it going?”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding! I’m going to murder you, you son of a bitch!!” And Scott hurried towards him.

Astrid wrapped an arm around his shoulder and neck, putting him in a headlock. It wasn’t very effective since he was so much stronger and taller than her. “Please Scott! Stop! Leave him alone!”  

Scott was deaf to her cries and threw her off of him, knocking the wind out of her as she hit the floor.

“Astrid!” Hiccup scrambled to his feet, his prosthetic slipping a bit on the linoleum.

Scott grabbed him by his shirt collar and reeled back for a punch.

Being picked on by Scott for several years, Hiccup had learned some defense mechanisms. He threw his arms up in an X shape in front of his face to block the punch.

Scott quickly changed tactics and punched his cousin in the gut, making Hiccup double over in pain and cough. From here, Scott shoved him backward into the counter, where he painfully collided.

Recovering, Astrid leapt at Scott and tackled him to the floor and landed a few decent punches to his face. “You have the audacity to just barge back into my life, bringing pain just like you did before? You really have no concept of consequences, do you?! You cheated on your wife! Don’t be surprised that I hate you!”

At the accusations, Scott grabbed her shoulders and flipped them over, and grasped her neck. “I told you this wasn’t over until I say so! And if it has to end, it’s going to be on my terms!”

Astrid kneed him many times, but he wouldn’t relent.

Hiccup recovered, and decided to use his strengths. He kicked Scott as hard as he could in the side with his metal leg. “Get your filthy hands off of her, you creep!” He shouted, though it sounded weak in his pain.

Scott was quickly getting sick of these distractions. He could take Astrid easily, but Hiccup was much harder. So he had to get rid of him first. Scott snarled at the man, and stood quickly, then tackled him.

They wrestled, both fighting for their lives. But Scott was always stronger then Hiccup, and pinned him to the ground with his hands on his throat. “I hate you!” Scott bit vehemently. “You always made me look bad, being such a perfect child. Taming a damn tiger, and now running your own business.”

Hiccup’s face was turning red as he fought to breathe.

All the while he went on his tirade, Astrid regained her breath and scanned the room. If this continued, Scott would end up killing one of them. He had to be stopped.

That’s when she spotted the cast iron frying pan on the stove. She quickly seized it.

“You’re such a faker!” Scott roared, spit landing on Hiccup’s nearly purple face. “I’m going to kill you! I’ve always wanted to kill you!”

His words were cut short as Astrid careened the frying pan off of Scott’s skull as hard as she could.

He fell to the floor with a thud.

Astrid gripped Hiccup by the arm and pulled him out from under Scott’s limp body.

He took several gasping breathes as she clung to him. “Are you okay?” She asked, knowing the answer.

He couldn’t speak right away, as he was too busy breathing, but he managed a weak smile and searched her for wounds. Finally, he whispered, “thank you. I’ll be okay. What about you?”

“I’ll be fine in a minute or two.” She sighed too, relieved that Scott was out cold. “We’re going to have bruises.”

“Good thing it’s cold out.” He supplied, rubbing his neck. “Scarves will hide these.”

“We need to call the police.”

He nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” Slowly he got off the floor, rubbing his sore body. He took his phone out of his pocket, and dialed 911.

Astrid checked over Scott with a sense of dread hitting her stomach. “Uh, Hiccup? Honey?” She whispered.

Hiccup glanced over, a dial tone in his ear.

A small puddle of blood was forming around Scott’s head.

“He’s not breathing, and he doesn’t have a pulse.”

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Hiccup stared at her trembling form, and the now corpse that laid in front of her. He knew what the right thing to do was, but was it the smart thing?

“I’m sorry,” he told the operator, “I accidentally pressed the emergency button on my phone. No emergency here.”

“Glad to hear it! Have a nice night, sir.”

“Thanks, you too.” And he hung up.

Astrid stared at him wide eyed. “What are you thinking?!”

Hiccup coughed a little, and went to get a drink of water. “I don’t know, probably something stupid.”

“I think we need to take a moment to breathe, and then maybe you’ll change your mind about whatever crazy scheme you’re planning.”

Hiccup shook his head, swallowing the cold water. “Astrid,” he sighed, looking out the back window. “I know we should call the police, but we can’t.”

“What? Why? What else are we supposed to do? Are you just scared of your dad?”

“No, listen.” He got down and knelt in front of her. “Do you know who Scott’s dad is?”

“Some judge?” “Not just any judge, The Judge.”

“So? They wouldn’t give our case to him anyway, it would be bias.”

“Judge Soren Jorgenson is a very rich and powerful man. He has a lot of influences in the community. No offense, but you’re just an orphan girl with no family and a few friends. He would do whatever it takes to make you look guilty.”

“What about you?”

“I’m an accomplice.”

“No one has to know that,” Astrid begged. “You could just have been an innocent bystander that I was defending.”

“No one is going to buy that, Astrid. Since I’m related to him, and we have a history of not getting along.”

“What about your dad? Isn’t he considered a rich and powerful man with a lot of influence?”

Hiccup shook his head. “My dad wouldn’t be allowed to get involved in this because of his bias.”

“And Scott’s dad can?”

“Because Soren is a devious man that is a good liar and does underhanded dealings. And his son is the victim here, there’s already going to be sympathy.”

“And this guy is a judge?”

“Kinda scary isn’t it?”

Astrid didn’t say anything, just looked back at Scott. “There has to be another way.”

“Not that I can see,” Hiccup sighed.

“Alright, you and I are in this together, I guess. What’s the plan?”

Hiccup scratched his head, thinking. “Well, we’ll have to hide the body.”

Astrid got to work looking for an old rag to clean up the blood. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Do you like the sound of a lifetime in jail?”

“No, not particularly.”

Hiccup stopped and took another calming breath. “I’ll tell you what Astrid. I’ll let you decide. If you think we show call the police, I’ll call my dad right now.”

Astrid shook her head. “No, you’re right. It just seems so wrong.”

“Now I know why people cheat the system.” Hiccup finished his glass of water, quiet.

Both teens took a moment in their own little worlds to realize that they had just committed a murder, and that their lives would be changed no matter what the plan was. A lifetime of guilt is what they were signing up for.

Hiccup resolved to be guilt free. Scott was a maniac, and looked him straight in the eye and declared he was going to kill him. The guilt would be in the form of not following the rules.

He finally knelt to rifle through Scott’s pockets. “Do you think he’s the type to write a note?”

Astrid shrugged. “To make it look like a suicide? I don’t think he would…maybe a drunk text though.”

Hiccup found his keys, then his phone, and turned it on. “Great, he has a password.”

“Well, if he has all those girlfriends, he ought to.” She thought for a moment. “What’s Scott’s birth year?”

“Um…well, he’s two years older than I am, and I’m 1995. So 1993?”

“Try that.” Sure enough, 1993 opened the phone.

“What a moron.”

“Let’s wait until we hide the body to send the text.” Astrid proposed.

“Good idea. And let’s wait until at least midnight to do it, less people on the roads.”

“Where are we going to hide it?”

She had a very good point.

“Even up ’til last week, Eret and his dad were taking the boat out on the lake for finishing. I bet it’s still hooked up to the dock. I’ll take him out and dump him as far out into the lake as I can.”

“What will I do?”

“You…you drive his truck to the beach. And you should probably clean up the floor.” “Okay.” She nodded.

“Let’s get the rest of the boxes into the jeep.”

“Where is Scott going to go then?”

Hiccup walked out into the living room, and glanced out the window at the jeep. “We’ll prop him up in the front seat. We’ll make him look like he’s sleeping.”

“Good idea.”

“How long do we have until your roommate returns?”

“I think she said she’s spending the night at her friend’s.”

“Perfect.” Hiccup nodded. “Let’s get to work.

The rest of the boxes went into the jeep fairly quickly, since Astrid had paused her cleaning for the moment.

Hiccup was already feeling exhausted, and couldn’t imagine how exhausting the rest of this night was going to be.

At midnight, Hiccup and Astrid lifted Scott from his puddle. And walk/dragged him out to her car.

“Oh sick, what’s that smell? He shouldn’t be smelling already, can he?”

“When someone dies, everything relaxes…including the bowels.”

Astrid frowned hard. “I’m sickened.”

“I’ve got him, just grab a trash bag and we’ll spread it over the seat.”

Hiccup got him out to the car and let him rest against his side before Astrid came running back out. To anyone else watching, it would look like Scott was just plum drunk. Which is what Hiccup counted on. Astrid spread out the trash bag and Hiccup carefully set the body in the passenger seat, taking special care to keep the bloody rag on the back of his head.

“Sorry Astrid, there might be a little blood on your seat.”

“It’s leather, it cleans easily.”

Hiccup buckled Scott in, and closed the door. Then he leaned in to whisper. “Okay, so while I’m gone, I need you to make sure the house is spotless. Make sure the pan is cleaned, and the floor especially. Check every surface for blood, okay?”

Astrid nodded, with a swallow.

He handed her Scott’s keys and phone. “Then, put on some gloves, and drive his truck to Silver Beach. Text Heather—…”

“What should I say?” She asked quickly.

“Something about…how sorry he was about being such a terrible husband and how she’ll be rid of him soon enough?”

“Something vague?”

“And has bad spelling and grammar.”

“Right right.” Astrid agreed. “Alright, after I text Heather?”

“I want you to walk up the bluff to First Baptist Church. Wait for me by the parking lot entrance, and I’ll come and get you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course!” He leaned in and gave her a swift kiss. “No matter what happens, I love you, and I always will.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” She whispered, fear gripping her heart.

“I know you didn’t, sweetheart.” He smiled softly. “Is it bad if I say I’m glad you did?”

Astrid sighed in relief, glad to know that they were on the same side. “You should go.”

Hiccup nodded once, and then kissed her on the lips once again.

—

It was one of those odd moments where Hiccup realized just how far Astrid lived from him. Ten minutes felt like an hour, and he was only halfway there. Provided, driving with a corpse in the passenger seat certainly didn’t make time go any faster. More like, he was so overly aware of the body next to him and the absence of cars on the road, that he kept looking at the clock just to see. The longer it took him to hide the body, the more time he had to get caught.

It wasn’t something he wanted to do today.

Hiccup hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath until he heard a breath next to him.

“SCOTT?” He nearly shouted.

But the body didn’t respond. Hiccup had hit a pot hole, and the air in Scott’s lungs made an escape.

“I’m just being paranoid. Rightfully so, this is so messed up.” Reaching over, Hiccup turned up the stereo and Justin Timberlake greeted him like an old friend.

It cuts right on my eye, yeah it hurt, won't lie

Still can't see, think I saw you with another guy

Fair fight, knocked down, then I got over you

Can't fight no more, you knock me out

What am I supposed to do?

Hiccup gripped the steering wheel a little too hard. His knuckles turning white.

I don't understand it

Tell me how could you be so low?

Been swinging after the bell and after all of the whistle blows.

Tried to go below the belt, through my chest, perfect hit to the dome

Dammit babe

This ain't the girl I used to know

No, not anymore, TKO

He turned off the stereo almost instantly. Maybe driving in silence would be better then that.

It was when he was on a country road, lined with trees, nearly at his house, when everything came crashing down.

Red and blue lights flashed in the mirrors.

This was it. It was all over. What did he do now? Pull over and hide the body in the back seat? Play dumb? Or gun it?

Despite his criminal actions, he still thought of himself as a good boy, and pulled over peacefully. He waited on the shoulder, his foot tapping manically. He wanted to cry.

He rolled down the window, letting the frigid November air in. He heard only heard footsteps over the frantic beating of his pulse in his ears. Finally the Officer came up to the window. “Hi, license and registration please.”

Hiccup obediently reached into his back pocket for his license. “Um, this is my girlfriends car, so the registration is in her name.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine.”

Hiccup reached over Scott’s lap and into the glove compartment to get the papers. “Uh, here. What seems to be the problem?” He asked, afraid of the answer.

The officer was quiet a moment as he was studying the license. “You’re the Chief’s son, aren’t you?”

Hiccup nodded, “yeah, that’s me.”

“Well, I guess I can’t go too hard on you.” The man smiled. “You’re rear left light is out. Make sure your girlfriend knows and have her get it fixed. I won’t give you a ticket or anything.”

Hiccup nearly cried in relief. “Yes, thank you. I will make sure that gets done.”

“You look kind of nervous.” The officer noted, leaning on the window.

“I’ve just never had a ticket before, and I was worried about my dad’s reaction.”

“Well, no need to worry.” He looked over and noticed Scott for the first time in the darkness. “What’s wrong with your friend there?”

Hiccup feels goosebumps on the back of his neck. This scenario, along with 70 others, had run through his mind on his long drive. He had just the lie.

“He’s stunk drunk, sir.” He said resolutely, refusing his voice to waver. “He texted me to pick him up from the bar. Then he got in the seat, pooped his pants, and passed out.”

“Wow, what a friend,” said the uniformed man. “You look a little beat up too. You okay?”

“He was in the middle of a fight, and I had to pull him out. The other guy didn’t appreciate it.” Yes, this was going smoothly, he might get away with it.

“Aw, bummer.” He simpered, “well, thanks for taking care of him so he didn’t drive drunk. Go home and get some rest.”

“Oh sure, of course I will! Thanks!”

“Have a nice night!” The man slapped the side of the car and walked off.

Hiccup’s hands shook as he rolled the window up.

He almost prayed to thank God, but then realized thanking God for allowing him to get away with murder was pretty sacrilegious.

—

Finally, he rolled through the familiar tunnel of his neighborhood. He was so close.

At the other end of the drive, Hiccup pulled into Eret’s driveway and turned his lights off. It was risky with all these trees, but it was riskier getting caught again with a dead body in Astrid’s car.

He parked by the dock, a hop skip and a jump away from the Eretson house. No lights were on, as he had been undetected.

He opened the passenger side door and yanked Scott out of his seat, and let hm flop on the ground. He wasn’t going to have more contact with him then necessary.

Down at the dock, sure enough, the little fishing boat sat tied up. It would likely remain out here all year, since the Eret Eretson Sr. loved to fish. Hiccup turned on the little light at the end of the dock that acted like a marker for land. It wasn’t too bright, but he still had to move quickly, not to be spotted. The boat had a small motor, but for sake of silence, Hiccup decided against it. Oars sat on the floor, in case of emergency.

He supposed this would be an emergency.

He dragged his cousin’s limp body down the dock and dropped him into the boat. Then he stepped in, preparing himself for the wobbly floor, and took to rowing.  

It was a clear night, but no moon out. The stars were his only companions.

Finally, when the light on shore was but a speck in the distance, and his arms felt heavy, he stopped.

It was a calm night, despite the storm brewing inside him. Gentle waves lapped against the metal hull.

Then he looked at Scott. He supposed he should say a few words. But he had nothing nice to say.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed. “You were a jerk, and an asshole, and a liar…you hurt everyone around you. But…” he wasn’t so sure if Scott didn’t deserve to die. “I’m sorry that you’re not getting a proper burial.” He finished.

With a heave, Hiccup eased the body over the edge of the boat, almost going in with him too.

The body landed face up, and Hiccup pressed down on his chest with an oar. His lungs filled with water, and then sank away into the dark.

The dark deed was done.

Then he was alone.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He was disgusting. He was evil and vile and a murderer. This was all wrong and the guilt would tear him apart. So he bowed his head. “God…I…I know I messed up. This is all…messed up. It was never supposed to be like this. I was never…this isn’t me. You know everything, so you know why I did it…”

He was aware he was rambling, but a confession was sorely deserved. “But I’m so scared. I’ve never been this scared in my life. Just please…forgive me for…for the lies I’m going to have to say. My punishment will come, I know…but please…have mercy on me. Have mercy on her. She doesn’t deserve her lot in life, God…I just want her to be happy.” And with that, Hiccup finally broke down completely into sobs.

But out on the lake, no one could hear his agony.

—

When Astrid had finished mopping the floor for the tenth time, she got down on her hands and knees and inspected it, just to make sure. She had done the same thing each time she mopped, just to make sure. The floor was probably cleaner than it had ever been.

Her knees were sopping wet, and she needed to move on.

The frying pan had soaked, and been scrubbed, and soaked again. She knew Eleanor would yell at her for cleaning it with water, since it was cast iron. But Astrid could handle it.

She found the rubber kitchen gloves her roommate kept, and slipped them on. For now, it would work. She carefully wiped off the keys and phone, and did a final sweep over the house, making sure she didn’t leave any of her belongings around. All looked clear.

She locked the door behind her and hid her house keys under the doormat, like she had told Eleanor she’d do. Acting normal, she climbed into the truck and drove off.

The seat was far back, and she had to sit up to reach the peddles, but she didn’t dare adjust the seat.

The radio turned on loud with the car, because he couldn’t listen to music at a decent decibel.

You don't have to say what you did

I already know, I found out from him

Now there's just no chance

With you and me

There'll never be

Don't it make you sad about it?

Astrid blocked out the sound, pretending it didn’t bother her. But it did.

You told me you love me

Why did you leave me all alone?

Now you tell me you need me

When you call me on the phone

Girl, I refuse

You must have me confused

With some other guy

The bridges were burned

Now it's your turn, to cry

Cry me a river

Cry me a river

She pulled into the beach parking lot without incident. No one was out at this time of night, and those who were, didn’t care.

Finally, she took out Scott’s phone, and went to the messenger between him and Heather. The last few conversations had been short and not very friendly. She added one more, her guts twisting with each little clack of the keyboard.

Heather i know you’ll probably never forgive me and i understand. Just wanted you to know that im sorry for being the worst. ill be out of your way soon.

Astrid turned the phone off before she could reply. Then she dropped the phone in the cupholder, with the keys, and then got out of the car.

Then she ran.

Ran down the parking lot, up the stairs of the bluff, and town. She darted around buildings, into alleys, and hid in doorways for only seconds at a time. It felt like someone was watching, silently judging, and pulling her spirit down into hell.

Finally, she made it to the church Hiccup had planned to meet her at. There were no cars in the parking lot waiting for her.

She collapsed in the back entranceway, falling to her rear. She scooted across the cement until her back hit cold bricks, and she let her head fall back against them.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, screwing her eyes shut. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks, biting in the cold air. “I didn’t mean to do it. I hated him, but I would never…he’s dead because of me!”

She believed that there was a God, and that there were things considered right and wrong. And learned more and more about that once she started going to Church with Hiccup on Sunday’s. Still, the afterlife was not really high on the list of priorities.

Until now. Death was in her hands, staining them actually.

“God…I’m ruined. I’ve done the unspeakable. You are the only one who can help me now…maybe I don’t have the right to call on you, but I’m so lost. Please, Father…I am yours, save me.”

As she uttered these words, a pair of headlights shown on her.

—

Well, it’s not one of my stories until Astrid kills somebody, huh?

[littleforestfairy]

Every aesthetic ask :3c

God damn it Shay

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

Yesterday when I was singing a Seventeen song stuck in my head

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Will I ever meet all of my friends in person???

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Uuuhhh I’m not really sure?? I can’t really think of any big accomplishments I’ve made yet

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

Laughing so freaking hard at a ridiculous clip from a Seventeen concert

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I guess I would work harder to finish things, put something amazing out into the world to be remembered by

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

1. Become a well known author

2. Meet all my friends in person

3. Go to Japan

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

I’ll do my sister cus I was just talking to her:

She’s incredibly talented at things like knitting and sewing and playing the piano, but it’s sad how much she underestimates her talents because she’s so impatient and wants to already be at a certain level and convinces herself she should be there already with how long she’s been doing it. Her natural personality is pure sarcasm and sass, teasing and poking fun and pointing out dumb questions with sarcastic answers, she has almost no filter, saying what’s on her mind even if it’s probably not the best time to say it, and sometimes she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it because it’s like her default setting. She’s got a hot head sometimes and has a tendency to get easily angered over small things, building up on top of other small things until it’s a big thing she can’t take anymore. She’s also very caring. She’s the oldest and, even though I don’t want her to do it, she has always put others before herself, ensuring that my brother and I were always comforted and taken care of first even when she felt like breaking down. With that she bottles up her emotions too much, convinces herself that her well-being doesn’t need to come first when it comes to my safety. Though I know she’s trying hard to snap out of that mentality, it’s just hard. She can get very excited over the things she loves, not exactly outwardly jumpy or bubbly, but more excited and frustrated rambling for an hour after she’s binged an entire show in 2 days.

I’m gonna stop there cus it’s so long already

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

Yeah, I did!! I have loving parents who always did what they could to ensure we were happy, and siblings close in age (well, one being a twin), so we were able to grow up together and never any distance cus of age or anything

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

Like last week

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

Hmmm I pick my lovely friend Mark because I know he loves space and stars and I think he’d really enjoy just hanging out and stargazing

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Nooooo, I could never ever do that

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

A few days ago with Yams!! We were talking about kpop !!

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

Uuuuhhhhh I have no idea honestly, that’s too much pressure

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

They’re very nice! And very underappreciated! My sister and dad have very dark brown eyes that they look almost black and they’re super cool

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

"When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy." - Griffin McElroy

It was in the last episode of The Stolen Century and it just really resonates with me personally because it is very very true

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

“I Never Get Anything Done and It’s a Surprise This Got Done”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

buy a huge house, buy my parents and my sister their dream cars, go meet up with all my friends, go on a huge vacation with my family to Japan or Germany, or both

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

I try to be, I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I do like trying to see good in people and find out if they really meant something hurtful. I don’t forgive people who refuse to be sorry though or really hurt me, that’s just too much to ask

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

In a year, you're gonna go through the worst tragedy of your whole life, it's gonna make everything feel like the world is falling apart, but I promise you'll be okay in time, it gets easier and you'll have your family to be beside you. And in a few years, you're gonna meet the bestest friends you've ever had who will become like a second family, and that entire summer when you meet them will be the best summer of your whole life, because you'll spend every day and every night laughing with them and it'll be so freaking amazing.

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Definitely pastel!

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

They’re super cool and while I personally don’t want any tattoos and I have no idea when I’ll even pierce my ears, people should be allowed to do whatever they want to their own bodies, they’re great ways of expressing yourself and showing to the world who you are and what’s important to you and what you love.

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

Nope, just not really my thing.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

iiiii dunno, nothing really comes to my mind at the moment

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

“Why are you listening to me, that’s creepy”

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

I’ve been to no concerts!! Except Cheetah Girls when I was like 9 or 10 or something!

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I dunno honestly

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I do have a desk but I don’t use it rn cus I don’t have a chair. It’s an art desk so my paint and stuff is mostly organized, though there is a bit of a mess that I’ll move whenever I get a chair

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

Brush my teeth, get a bottle of water, watch videos until I get sleepy

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Uuuhhhhh that I read smut fanfics a LOT 

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I would dye it cotton candy pink because it’s a freaking super cute color, but it would require bleaching for my hair and I don’t want that

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

I don’t wanna pick just five I wanna pick all my friends and we’ll all go on a road trip and hit all the touristy spots

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

I actually do make wishes when it’s 11:11, but tbh I don’t wanna say anything I do or would wish for, cus you’re not supposed to say wishes or they won’t come true ! 

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

I didn’t put it together, but my grandma did, and it was a green, white, and pink fairy dress with sheer fabric over it and little flowers on the sheer and it was big on me but it was super cute

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

I’ve never been drunk or high !

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Kill someone

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

Only listen to one song. Because I’ve got too many people important to me and I don’t wanna see just ONE of them for the rest of my life

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

Noooope

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

I’ve had short hair before and I didn’t like it, I much much prefer long hair

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

Usually it’s just strawberries and creme frappucino, which is. just a menu item so I would trust anyone to order it. But when we have the money, I get a banana chocolate chip frappucino and it’s not really that complicated, so I’m sure anyone could order it

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

My friends and family !!

[ecotone99]

[HR] [SF] Spence

Been out here at my shack for quite a while. Bout 20 miles outta town, off on my own little dirt road. Close enough so it ain’t so bad to get supplies, and far enough out soz no one bothers much, and the sky is open at night. Not much on bein’ social. Just me and Spence.

Lemme tell ya about Spence.

In town, pickin’ up supplies. Always make a point to get a chicken salad sammich, a to-go coffee, and a bottle of water. Damn good chicken salad, and nice to have someone else make the coffee ever now and again.

So, haulin’ the bags out to the truck, had to set the drinks and the sammich bag on the rear bumper to stow things.

Got that done, grabbed the sammich bag, and got in the cab. Took half the sammich, took a bite, and reached for my drink. Dammit. Still on the bumper. Gettin’ old and forgetful.

Parked the sammich on the seat, and, leaving the door open, got out to retrieve the drinks. Came back to see that sammich tore open, and a skinny orange and white tabby cat goin’ to town on the chicken.

Not a kitten, but not full-grown. Like I said, kinda skinny. Right ear was a little ragged like it had been chewed on, and had not healed up clean.

There were a few strays running around town, but they usually hauled ass away from people. I know that feeling.

‘That is some pretty good chicken. He’p ya-self there, bud’

He stopped eatin’ then. And sat back and looked at me. He wasn’t scared. Just kinda cocked that torn ear to the side and looked.

‘That chicken salad always makes me thirsty. Hang on a sec.’

I dumped the coffee, rinsed it from the water bottle, tore the cup sides down some and poured water in. Slowly set that down and slid it over.

The cat had been watchin’, not scared at all. None of that raised-fur, laid-back ear, hissy shit at all. Just kinda lickin’ his chops, cleaning up chicken.

He sniffed at the water, and went at it like a drowning man at a life-saver.

‘Ha! Yeah, buddy. I am the same way.‘

I eased myself in the cab and carefully closed the door. He had finished the water, and was doin’ that cocked head stare again. Sizin’ me up.

‘Well I’m headin’ back to the shack. You’re more than welcome to ride along’

Looked like he was thinkin’ it over for a bit, then he started his post-dinner washup.

‘Ima take that as yes then, bud’

Once we got rollin’, he was all washed up. He sized me up again, and then kinda curled up next to me. I careful-like reached down and scratched his head. He kept his eyes closed, but moved to get the attention on that bum ear, and purred like an outboard motor.

Yeah. That’s Spence.

FELIS PROJECT LOG:

Entry 2018-09346

Failure again! The procedures are technically perfect. There is no fault in them, but still no success. I believe the issue is with the raw organic materials. More study required.

—-

He settled right in at the shack. Made sure to explore ever’thing. Actually disappeared for a while (yep, even in my tiny shack).

Got supplies put up, and grabbed a cold beer, and went to my chair. Had ‘Bad Day at Black Rock’ cued up.

Cat walked out from his inspection, and sat down in front of my chair, giving me that cocked head look.

‘Well sir, if we gonna be roomies, Ima not gonna call you Cat. Howz about Spencer ... Spence for short?’

That seemed to meet his approval. He jumped up in the chair, licked at the water on the outside of the bottle, and curled up and went to sleep, so I started the movie.

FELIS PROJECT LOG:

Entry 2018-10249

The laboratory raised organics were indeed the issue. While they do have the desired feline instincts, the lack of human bonding leads to undesirable behavior, and lack of response to training and commands. Must acquire organics that are human bonded, to take advantage of those characteristics

—-

Had to make a ‘cat-flap’ for Spence. Set it up high by the door, to keep crawly varmints out, and latched it shut when he was in. He would take off, sometimes for hours. Always came back after doin’ his ‘cat business’.

He filled out real well. Big kinda like those Maine Coon types, but shorter hair.

Sit out on the little porch out front in the mornings. Have my coffee, Spence in my lap, gettin’ that ear rubbed. Purrin’ away, lazy tail thumpin’ my leg. He’s good company.

FELIS PROJECT LOG

Entry 2018-13286

I have assigned some personnel to acquire the human bonded organics. They have specific instructions on what is needed, and to avoid detection. ‘Pets’ being lost/running away is not an unusual occurrence. I am quite hopeful that once acquired, the results will be success!

—-

Spence and me would truck into town for supplies, always splitting a chicken sammich, of course. He’d wait outside in the truck, windows part-way down. I like to think he was enjoying the high-life, but still saying howdy to his street friends.

I come out the store, and the passenger window was bust. That pebbled safety glass all over, shining in the sun.

Dropped my bags, and ran over. Nothing missing, except Spence.

FELIS PROJECT LOG

Entry 2018-15671

Success! The fifth time is the charm, as they say! The fifth acquired organic was an outstanding specimen. I suspected that this one’s unusually large size would make the transfer easier, and was pleased that this worked out so well. Now the conditioning begins.

—-

I picked up the bags, threw them in the truck bed, cleared the pebbles of glass from the window, and the cab, then drove the short bit to the sheriff’s office, filed a report on the broken window.

I was numb.

Once I was back at the shack, it was gettin’ dark. I had driven slow-like, keepin’ an eye out for Spence. He was a tough fella. Hell, he dragged me back a rattler one time. Minus the head.

I sat out in the yard, crying some, cursing some, but mostly waiting.

FELIS PROJECT LOG

Entry 2018-16384

The prototype has escaped. I have dispatched personnel to recover. The hardware is traceable, and they have orders to not damage the prototype, and to notify me when they locate.

—-

I finally dozed off sitting there, out front of the shack. Had a dream. Spence was back. We were sitting in the morning sun, me with my coffee, and him, gettin’ that ear rubbed, thumpin’ his tail.

But, in the dream, something was off. Spence’s motorboat purr wasn’t there. This started to bother me, and like you do sometimes in a dream, it bothered me enough to wake me up.

FELIS PROJECT LOG

Entry 2018-16390

The recovery team has isolated the prototype’s location. It is in a secluded area, and there appears to be only one person at this location. I have advised the team to secure the prototype and the resident, monitor and keep me updated. I am going to mobile, and will arrive there shortly.

—-

Something was not right. There was a dark SUV coming down the dirt road from the highway. Who the hell would come out here this time of night? Wasn’t the sheriff. They drive in light colored Jeeps.

I got up and walked over to the truck. I keep a sawed-off in there for varmints and such.

The SUV pulled in just as I got to the truck. A spotlight from the driver’s side popped on, aimed at the passenger side of my truck, and three fellas got out.

They were dressed like a SWAT team, or special forces, and each had an evil looking, stubby automatic weapon of some high-end sort. The details of the business end were real clear, as they was all pointed at me.

‘OK fellas, Can I help you with somethin’?’

‘Get down on your belly, slow and easy, and put your hands out in front of you’

One of them had like a cell-phone or small tablet device, and was moving it slowly around, kinda like he was searching for a signal.

‘Fellas, there really isn’t a good signal back this far from the main road’

‘Get down on the ground now!’

Another vehicle was coming down my road. It pulled in by the SUV, and the driver got out. He was obviously not one of the heavies. He was wearing green hospital scrubs, which looked stained some. Hard to tell at night, but as he moved closer to the light, it looked like blood.

Then I heard ... something ... from in my truck. Like something metallic and sharp, popping like it was tearing into the seat ...

Like ... like a cat sharpening its claws.

Things happened real fast after that, and ima do my best to tell ya, but it was just so damn fast.

I turned to look in the cab. I saw something metallic, chrome-like. Just a quick glance, and it was out the empty passenger window frame.

The heavies opened up at it. I dropped behind my truck, opened the door, and grabbed my scatter-gun. I could hear the rounds hitting the truck, and spanging off something else.

I popped up, and fired. The spotlight blew like a firework, and went out.

Was hard to see now. I heard heavy, wet thumps, and tearing, and screams.

I could see vague shapes on the ground, about where they had been standing when the shit started.

I dug under my seat, reloaded, and grabbed my flashlight.

Turned it on and saw the three heavies, obviously dead, torn to shreds. Saw the hospital looking fella. He wasn’t tore up, but was sitting with his back at the rear driver’s side wheel, not moving at all.

In front of him was ... well ... it looked kinda like a cheetah, if the cheetah was made of chrome, and had steel razors for teeth and claws, and was scary as fuck.

I swallowed the bile in my throat, and walked slowly over that way. Not sure what good this sawed-off will do, but it has been a pretty shit day so far, so what the hell.

I was about half way over there, and I could hear a sound. You know that sound a cat makes when it sees a bird? That chittery thing they do? It was like that, but ... metal.

I stopped dead. The cheetah thing stopped making that sound, and turned its head towards me. I brought up my scattergun, and the cheetah-thing cocked its head to the right, and just looked at me.

‘Awwwww no ... Spence?’

The cheetah-thing thumped its tail lightly in the dirt.

Time froze. That’s Spence! What the fuck is going on? My arms dropped to my sides. I fell to my knees.

This next part was again really quick, but I will remember it until I die.

The hospital fella lunged to grab something from one of the dead heavies’ belts. He came up with what looked like some kind of grenade. The Spence thing tore that fella’s hand clean off. It dropped, still holding that grenade. He started to scream, but that changed to a wet gurgle, and then silence.

‘S-s-spence? Is that you?’

The tail thumped again.

I knew it was him. He grabbed that dead hospital fella in his teeth, and dragged him over to me. Just like that rattler.

Then he sat there, just in front of me, head cocked, sizin’ me up like he does.

I reached out careful-like, and put my hand on his head, where that bum ear was. He pushed his head into my hand, and I could hear a metal-like purr.

—-

Well, I cleaned that shit up. Lots of places to hide things out there in the back-country. Got a new truck. Told the few folks who asked I sold it for junk after the engine blew. Ain’t too worried about anyone looking them up. Checking through their things, I got the idea they were not folks that anyone would miss. I did keep their weapons.

And I still have my buddy Spence.

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[mlonswayfilm-blog]

Black Girl

The scene I want to focus on is the initial scene of the short film. This scene is relatively simple as it is establishing shot of the general characters and mise en scene of the film. Diouana’s character is shown for the first time turning this introduction and the way she comes across differs here from the rest of the film which is why I am analyzing this scene through narrative analysis.

The first moment of the scene is a clip of Diouana walking off the boat. She is dressed in a nice dress and her heels can be heard clicking as she walks out. She gives a slight nod to the man at the counter which is mimicked in response. She comes across in a way that seems to hold class and status as she is not dressed as though someone going to be a nanny. The idea of her character is initially given in this very scene alone that she holds some sort of status. It is later learned she does not hold high class status because society was very racist, but instead puts up the facade in order to fake it. She wants to come across to be rich and high fashion even when she is not. 

The next beat just follows her going outside carrying her own suitcase. 

Next, with a close up Diouana is seen to be searching for someone as the first aspect of script comes in where she questions if anyone is coming for her. This adds confusion to the newly met character because after presenting a high status she is found to be questioning if someone is picking her up. It would seem guaranteed for the rich to have a ride from the boat. 

It then continues into her leaving the boat. This time she has to walk through a crowd which is entirely white. She is the only person holding a suitcase while everyone else seems to just be waiting around.

It then pans over to a moment of just stacks of suitcases all marked by numbers. This gives the impression that since Diouana is carrying her own suitcase she does not hold the same amount of power or wealth that all the white passengers on the boat did. 

Her bag is then marked by the sort of security before she is seen to walk out. Initially when watching these scene I had though she marked the bag herself in order to feel as though she fit in with the other passengers, but upon second observance it is clear that some man marked her bag. The beat would have been much more significant in showing her character if it had been herself that marked the bag as it would have asserted her want to fit in with upper class white people, but by having someone else do it it takes away from this complex character development. Although when the beat of the suitcases is presented many are seen to have identical numbers meaning the person it comes from has many bags while Diouana has just one. 

The next moment involves her being met by a man in a suit. He takes her bag from her to put in the car. This moment extends the initial viewpoint of Diouana as she seems to have a more luxury lifestyle. For an instance her confusion on being picked up is forgotten as she seems again to have a high class status. Even though we learn she is to become a maid for the upper class, in this moment this role comes across as reversed. With no context as to where she is and why, this first impression of Diouana begins to leave a confusing aspect as the audience is unsure about her.

Next once in the car a sort of optimistic piano tune plays as from a point of view camera shot we observe what she sees in the car. The way she talks to the man is very respectful and reserved as she seems more focused on sight seeing rather than his small talk. It leaves the impression of newness as we see her simply just looking at everything, and get a happy sense from the music as though this is an exciting experience for her. Through this small talk the location of France is finally pointed out and it becomes apparent that Diouana had never been before as the man makes a comment about France’s beauty. 

Once they arrive at the location, it again becomes confusing of Diouana’s status as the man is seen to walk around and open the door for her. It is a simple action but it leaves uncertainty as to whether the man just has good manners, or the action was expected by her for holding status above him. 

But then again things become confusing as she carries her own bag upstairs. She is first given a short CU of her looking up in awe at the place she is going to showing the audience it is somewhere new for her to be. The scene then cuts to her walking into an apartment where she is greeted by a women who shakes her hand and goes to kiss the man showing their relationships. She then shows Diouana to her room. The women then explains the location of which she has a view of from her window which emphasizes Diouana’s newness to the area. She is seen to have a smile for the first time while observing the view. It is very brief of a moment but it immediately shows Diouana’s excitement to be in this location. She is then quickly led to the kitchen.

The scene then ends with a shift of music and clothing as Diouana is seen to be cleaning the bathroom. All the mystery about why she was in the new location, and what exactly her status was is cleared up just with this quick cut. The music is no longer magical, but instead stressful. Her appearance is not put together but instead rather messy and instead of being treated as though she has status she is cleaning a house that is not hers. This quick shift shocked me as during my first time watching this scene I was under the impression Diouana was there for some other reason as leading up to this beat she seemed to me to have status or at least the confidence for it. But this fast transition also made her character very apparent as she was one to dress to impress even though she did not fit into the same class as the other women unjustifiably because of her race. 

This entire scene sets up the rest of the film and how Diouana will act. She is constantly seen and talks about how she wants to explore and buy nice clothes, yet she is never given the opportunity as she is a low class maid. She had high expectations for how she would be treated and get to act but when reality sunk in she could not handle it. Even when we try to fake confidence and status it seems reality always has a way to get back at us. It is hard to run away from the mold society puts you in due to a unchangeable feature. Diouana just wanted to live a life of slight luxury as her mistress did, but instead she went a little crazy being locked inside an apartment serving racist guests. People and society eventually get to you no matter how much you try to pretend they will not. Diouana constantly puts on heels and nice dresses as a way to combat the role that racism forced her into, but even these small moments are disrespected by the mistress who has particular expectations. She did not want Diouana to look as though she could hold status hence why she made her take off her shoes and wear an apron. Diouana’s initial confidence was almost a threat to the mistress. 

The article by Julio Garcia Espinosa offered an interesting perspective on art that generally is not taken by people. He looked at art as being something strictly for the elite which made it no longer be artistic but instead just “mass art”. It was apparent of how passionate he was about the issue stating that this world of mass art “requires people to have no taste”. Popular art on the other hand he understands to be created by those with no as much money or status but that really have artistic ability. He also notes that this is because they have both a spectator and creator perspective rather than just being artists. He connects this all back to the idea of “imperfect cinema” that may not get the approval of other countries, but has more art behind it. It follows the same mindset as Italian Neorealism or the French New Wave where the quality of the film lacks the rich expectation but instead is more around the actual content. He does begin his whole paper wishing that access to film equipment was easier to get to open up the world of cinema more. His viewpoint towards the poor is inspiring but also makes a lot of sense. Eventually the rich run out of stories that seem real leading to so much repetition to happen throughout cinema in terms of plot. Film makers are trying to be more unique and radical but things generally seem to lead back to the same concepts. The poor generally have stories to tell about their situation that mean a lot more than another love triangle chick flick. They have more personal things to share that are innovative but they lack what they need. This article was written in 1969 which was a while ago when things were newer and more expensive but we are lucky enough to now have cheaper available options. Often people become famous based off simple iphone videos. 

Espinosa also brings into his argument that science (more soft sciences such as psychology, sociologists etc.) should be involved in film making. This concept really spoke to me as it is something I strongly agree with as I want to pursue a similar path. I intend to become a psychology major and arts minor as I think the combination of the two creates the most unique results. Having the background on the human mind has helped me create many social commentaries as I better understood why people do what they do. It also can be helpful for knowing what kind of reaction to expect from a viewer. Having a non-artistic background and entering into the field of art brings more uniqueness to films than what is given when that knowledge is not present. Imagine a horror film written by a psychologist, it would probably be terrifying as they would know what to do in order to freak your brain and self out the most. To be an artist sometimes a different background besides “art” is required to change the world and create Espinosa’s concept of popular art.