#so i figured i should set up an online store and restock

[ratfest]

EPIC NEWS… I FINALLY HAVE MY SHOP OPEN AND HAVE RESTOCKED THE HIT CLASSIC™️ ITEM : THE PRISON REALM GOJO SHAKER…

get yours today at my (finally open) etsy… (along with various other things…)

[omegasmileyface]

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

[lucaalbertoadventures]

Wahh, I can't believe it has been 5 months since I created this account! I haven't realized how long it's been since I began posting these photos of the fish boys going to Disneyland!

Thank you so much to everyone for all the support you have given up to now! Whether it was leaving a like, reblogging/retweeting posts, or following this account, I really appreciate it all. 🙏

It's probably long overdue, but I would like to share the story of how I started this Luca/Disneyland photo blog. Though, please be warned: it is VERY long! I tend to ramble a bit too much, ahaha...

Watching Luca

Well, I think I should start off with the first time I watched Luca back in June 2021, haha. I actually didn't know much about the movie beforehand, so I only knew of a few details (like its portrayal of the Italian Riviera and the joys of summertime). Come to think of it, I don't think I ever saw the trailers! But I enjoyed a lot of Pixar's previous movies, so I assumed I would enjoy Luca just as much.

However, I was not expecting the movie to completely capture my heart! It had such a beautiful story filled with wonder and warmth. I was captivated by Luca's daydream sequences and the feeling of freedom yearned by both Luca and Alberto. To me, it felt really intimate and special.

One other big reason why I loved the movie so much was Luca, Alberto, and their friendship! It was very heartwarming to see these boys become so close in the movie. I still get emotional whenever I think about how they were willing to set aside their own dream to make the other's dream come true... 🥲

And yes, I adore Luca and Alberto both as best friends and as budding romantic partners! The love between them is so profound, and it's plain to see that they care deeply for one another. It just makes my heart flutter! 💗

First Steps into Luca Fandom

The impact Luca had on me was undeniable. I couldn't stop thinking about the movie (especially with that ending! *sob*), so naturally I started hunting for more Luca content!

It was surreal seeing so many amazing Luca fan art and fan works on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram. There were even storyboards and behind-the-scenes tidbits shared by the crew who worked on the movie! I was devouring all that content up!

In addition to browsing for fan art, I also looked for official merch. Whenever I get into a movie/anime/video game/etc., I go searching for official goods to add to my collection--particularly plushes and figures! I was eager to find all sorts of Luca merch that would be available to purchase.

... Sadly, there weren't a lot of Luca-related stuff for sale. I checked the shopDisney site and my local Disney Stores (back when they were still open), but there were barely any merch. And the plushes and figurines that were previously released were all sold out! ☹️

I didn't give up, though. I checked shopDisney multiple times every day to see if they restocked. Then one fateful day towards the end of July, the plushes and figurine playsets were finally available! I remember going through checkout blazingly fast, since I was afraid they would be out of stock again!

The Mattel Luca Figures

During this time, I also saw that Target opened online preorders for Mattel's Luca toy line: a scooter set with Luca and Alberto in human form, and a Target-exclusive set featuring the boys in their sea monster form.

When I first saw the promo pics, I was pretty impressed with their range of joint articulation and how accurate they were to their film counterparts. I've seen plenty of other figures that don't quite match the character, and with limited articulation to boot. The Luca sets also had pretty neat accessories, so it was an obvious choice to place my preorders for them!

The figure sets had an estimated delivery date of August 4-9, so I patiently waited for the release day to come...!

... Unfortunately, some slightly disappointing news came instead. Target sent out an email with an update stating that the release date would be moved to next week. A week delay was not that bad, especially during a pandemic, so I waited once again.

Exactly 7 days later, Target sent another email with the new release date set for the following week. I was getting slightly nervous with this second delay, but I continued to wait.

Another 7 days, and another email from Target with a new release date for the next week. I haven't experienced this kind of delay before, so I was getting a bit worried!  I wasn't sure if Target would end up canceling my preorders, so I started looking for alternative places to purchase the figures.

I saw that Amazon was selling figures of sea monster Luca and Alberto separately. These figures had an extra feature to them: their head paddles and tail fins could change color in hot and cold temperatures!

I placed my order for them, and they arrived promptly about a week later. I was very excited to finally hold these figures with my own two hands, lol.

Upon opening the box, I was surprised by the size of the figures--they were bigger than expected! Their sea monster bodies had a subtle glittery sheen to them when put under the light, which is pretty cool. The range of articulation was also better than expected (Ball joint for the neck! Swivel movement in the elbows and knees! Rotation in the waist and tail! etc...) And finally, Luca and Alberto's little fishy faces looked very cute! 🥰

Meanwhile, my Target preorders were still being delayed... *weep*

Disneyland and the Magic Key

I've been writing a lot about Luca so far, and I haven't even gotten around to Disneyland yet! Aha...

To tell the truth, I actually wasn't that into Disneyland before. I appreciated the attractions and stuff, but I wasn't a diehard fan or anything. My sister, on the other hand, is pretty into Disneyland and theme parks in general. She was the one who convinced me to go to Disneyland for the first time in years. She wanted us to go see the new Star Wars land called Galaxy's Edge, and since there was a discount deal on multi-day tickets for Southern California residents, she argued that it was the perfect time to go, lol.

After giving in to my sister's demands (I jest, hehe), we went to Disneyland in early 2020. We had a blast going on the rides and remembering all the things from when we were kids. The new Galaxy's Edge was massive and had such incredible detail to it. I gained much more appreciation of Disneyland and the technology, innovation, and imagination that went into the park.

And then on mid March 2020, California issued a state-wide shut down in response to the terrible pandemic...

~~~

Disneyland reopened its doors on April 30, 2021 after over a year of closure. It was initially only open to California residents, with online reservations required before entering the parks.

My sister was eager to go back to Disneyland and Disney California Adventure, but I, again, had to be persuaded a bit. We were already fully vaccinated, but I was still a little weary. Being on top of Disneyland news and such, my sister reassured me that the parks were operating on limited capacity, so it wouldn't be crowded like in the pre-pandemic days. The cast members were also working hard to keep park goers socially distanced and wearing their masks.

We ended up going back to the parks a few times around May and June 2021, and like my sister said, the crowds were unusually sparse. It was admittedly pretty nice walking around the parks so freely without bumping into people.

A few months later on August 2021, Disney announced the Magic Key pass for Disneyland and DCA, the newest iteration of the annual pass program.

My sister (who still couldn't get enough of Disneyland, lol) wanted to get Magic Key passes. I, once again, had to be persuaded. I liked Disneyland, but I wasn't sure if I could keep going there for a whole year. It was also a bit pricey, especially for the highest tier (Dream Key) at $1400 USD!

My sister, being an expert on good deals, noted that the Dream Key tier was the best bang for the buck: no blockout dates, the highest discounts on food/merch, and free parking.

I mulled over it for a while. There were still places in Disneyland and DCA that we haven't fully explored yet. In addition, there would be upcoming seasonal events we haven't yet experienced, like Halloween and Lunar New Year. This would also be the chance for us to try all the different food and drinks at the parks.

And so... after careful consideration, I got myself the Magic Key pass at the Dream Key tier! 🗝

A Realization

Remember the Target preorders that were delayed? Well, Target finally shipped the Mattel Luca sets, and they arrived in mid September 2021! Yay!

Both sets were quite awesome! The sea monster set had nice quality accessories--I especially liked the gramophone and Luca's shepherd's crook. And the diving helmet was a hilarious touch!

The other set had an impressive mix-and-match scooter with working wheels. But, to me, the real prizes were Luca and Alberto in their human forms! I couldn't get enough of their cuteness. Alberto has that confident grin, and Luca has that innocent smile. Their articulation is pretty similar to their sea monster versions, although human Luca's head had slightly less range of motion.

With that (plus the beautiful Stargazers set with Luca and Giulia I bought later in the year), my Luca toy collection was done! 🥳 I was glad and relieved to finally have the plushes and figures after they were out of stock/delayed.

Well, actually... There was another set of Luca plushes that I wanted for my collection, but the aftermarket prices + shipping costs were too high. The plushes were the Sega prizes available only in crane games located in Japan!

I first saw pictures of them back in July 2021 when I was browsing Enrico Casarosa's (director of Luca) Twitter account. He retweeted photos of these adorable chibi Luca and Alberto plushes that I hadn't seen before! The photos belonged to @Bonn102 and @sunny_day_o, who cosplayed with their plushes at Tokyo DisneySea.

I thought it was super neat that they brought their Luca plushes on their trip! It reminded me of the collectors who bring their anime figures or dolls outdoors to take stunning photographs of them.

I wanted to try something fun like that with my own figures/dolls in the past, but I never had the courage to actually do it. Just thinking about how embarrassed I'd get if someone were to stare at me with strange or disapproving looks on their faces... 😖

Sometime later when I was browsing the #PixarLuca tag on Twitter, I saw @klein__inin__ posting very cute photos of their own Luca and Alberto plushes at Tokyo Disneyland. I imagined the fun they must have had going around and taking pictures with their plushes... and then I had a realization. Is it all right if I too could take photos and have that sort of fun? I have a Magic Key pass, am fortunate enough to live near Disneyland, and have my Luca plushes... Can I really step out of my shell and do it...?

I decided that, yes, I will take this opportunity and do it!

Silenzio, Bruno!! 🙌

Bringing the Fish Boys to Disneyland!

Now that I have decided to bring Luca and Alberto with me to Disneyland, I was getting pretty excited for my next visit!

Though, I decided not to take my plushes. I am a big germophobe and didn't want to get them dirty, aha... So instead, I chose to bring my Mattel Luca and Alberto figures! They won't get dirty as much and are easy to hold and put away in a bag. Plus, they can do all sorts of dynamic poses!

In mid September 2021, I went with my sister and brought the fish boys for the first time to Disneyland. Here is one of the very first photos while we were in line for Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance!

From that point on, I brought Luca and Alberto with me on every trip to Disneyland and DCA! With the Magic Key pass, it was great visiting the parks as many times as I like and photographing all sorts of different places. I had a lot of fun imagining what sort of shenanigans the fish boys would get up to in the parks, hehe. And to my surprise, I even got a few compliments from park guests passing by! 😳

After a few trips and amassing a number of photos, I thought about making a blog account. However... I am very much a lurker who stays out of the spotlight, with little experience in being a, uh, "content creator" (sounds weird saying that about myself!). It was intimidating, but I wanted to share at least a small bit of the joy I had while taking these pictures of the boys!

When deciding on the name for the blog, I imagined Luca and Alberto finally getting their Vespa, fulfilling their dream of traveling the world together, and having many adventures! And it turns out one of their destinations is Disneyland, lol. Although it's not the most creative name, this was how I came up with Luca⭐Alberto🐟Adventures🛵!

Though sometimes it feels like this account should be named LucaAlbertoDates instead! ❤

~~~

... And I guess that is all I have for now! I apologize for writing this massive wall of ramblings, but thank you very much for sticking around to the end!

I wouldn't have started this blog without my sister urging me to go to Disneyland with her, Enrico Casarosa and the entire Pixar team who created such a beautiful movie that I love very dearly, and @Bonn102, @sunny_day_o, and @klein__inin__ for the inspiration to go out and do something I've wanted to do for a long time.

The reason this blog has kept going is the support you have given since the beginning! It makes me very happy, and I hope to continue this for as long as I can!

To end this post, here is a sneaky photo my sister took while we were riding the Disneyland Railroad train on a recent trip, along with my photo of the boys while this was happening!

[writeyourownlifestory]

Sucker Punched

Chapters: 3/9 Fandom: IT Rating: M Warnings: Mention of past child // psychological abuse, Fight Club!au Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, learning to love yourself

Tag list: @richietoaster, @beproudtozier, @that-weird-girls-blog, @s-onora, @s-s-georgie, @bellarosewrites, @iamcupcakefrosting, @reddieonwheels, @ghostnebula, @madidraw @madi-main, @gazebobullshit, @thoughtfullyyoungduck

By the time Eddie was 13, he was allergic to peanuts, tree nuts, and several cooking oils. By 15, he had never swum in gym class and never went to a friend’s birthday party or had one of his own. By 16, Eddie knew that he liked looking at boys rather than looking at girls, though that didn’t seem to matter at the time. By 18, he had graduated high school and that was the end of his social life. And by 21, Eddie’s life had been torn to pieces.

He was a victim of Munchausen syndrome by proxy and now left without a mother, without a home, and without a clue. On top of being told he should go to group therapy, his caseworker had also suggested doing something to blow off some steam. Join a book club or go to the gym. Or maybe join a need-to-know based fight club. Either or.

Chapter’s one - two 

Eddie thought, as a nice gesture, he would surprise Ben and take him out to lunch.

He got off of work earlier than he thought he would. They didn’t have that much to unpack and restock onto the shelves. It was pretty slow on this particular day, so the need for any extra baggers or cashiers wasn’t as high as always. The manager of the store gave Eddie the option to skip out forty-five minutes earlier than he was scheduled to leave.

He didn’t jump at the chance to leave, but he took it regardless. Walking down the street, he thought it would be a good idea to head into the gym that Ben frequented at and see if he’d be interested in grabbing something to eat.

He knew Ben’s routine as well as his own. He wakes up and goes for his run. If he was closing, then he’d come home, eat breakfast and hang around the house. Sometimes he would do a bit of work in his room, rearranging some of his models or creating an online template for future projects. And then he’d go to the gym and work out for an hour or two. He’d come home and show, help with dinner and then either go out with Beverly or Mike before returning home for the night.

If he was opening, then he’d still go out running, but he would do it far earlier and make a protein shake or take something portable. He’d go to work and then get out, heading straight for the gym when he was finished, and then come home, shower, help with dinner, and then go out.

He’d usually go to the gym around the same time regardless if he was opening or closing, so Eddie had a pretty good shot of him being there.

He slipped inside, looking around in hopes of spotting him. He came up empty, but waited a bit, thinking maybe he was in the back room. He stood there for nearly five minutes, looking completely out of place in his work shirt and jeans.

“Ay, Eduardo!” A voice called out to him. He looked up, seeing Richie sitting up from a machine he was on. Ben had mentioned calling it a ‘crunch machine’ or something like that. Richie pulled off his headphone, the sound of the music muffled, but still loud enough for Eddie to hear just slightly. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

“Haystack. He’s not here. Bev stopped by and grabbed him maybe about fifteen minutes ago.” Richie explained.

Right. So Eddie had been on the money with the timing but missed him by a few minutes. He wasn’t surprised that Beverly had come and snatched him away. Any time she wasn’t in the group meeting or working at her aunt’s boutique, she was with Ben.

It was fair enough since they were best friends. Eddie didn’t know if that was what being a best friend was, always wanting to be around them and do everything with them.

Or maybe it was more than friendship.

Eddie didn’t know either way.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problemo. You wanna do a few sets?”

“Few what?”

“Sets, dude! Gotta work on those gains!”

Eddie just stared, babbled by whatever the hell he was even saying. Mke walked by then, slapping the back of Richie’s head as he passed. “Speak English, dumbass.” He prompted.

“Ah! Geez, Hanlon. Hands-off outside the ring.” Richie mumbled, standing from the machine.

“I think you’re supposed to wipe those down,” Eddie mentioned as Richie approached him.

“Though, do you wanna work out? I’m always down for some tag-team pumping.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Eddie grumbled with a heavy sigh. “But, if you’re asking me to work out, I’m gonna decline. Not exactly in the right attire.”

“That’s fine! Just take the pants off. Boxers and gym shorts are similar enough.”

Eddie scoffed, wrinkling his nose at the idea. “Dude, no.”

“I’m kidding! I’m done anyway,” Richie reached into his pocket, turning off the music playing from his phone and detached the headphones, pulling them off his neck. He wrapped the wire around and around, tightening it before looping it through his arm to hold onto. “Did you walk here?”

“I don’t have a car,” Eddie told him.

No car, no license. He knew the town was small enough, allowing him to walk just about everywhere, but he knew how pathetic it sounded.

Eddie’s whole existence was pathetic at this point.

“Are you going home?”

“Not like I have anywhere else to go,” Eddie answered with a small shrug.

“Want a lift?” Richie questioned. “I don’t have work tonight, so I don’t have anywhere else to go either.”

Eddie shook his head slightly. “It’s fine,”

“Can I walk with you?” Richie asked, taking a step closer. “I don’t mean to be pushy. Just. Super bored and figured a conversation would shake things up a bit. If you don’t want to be bothered, just say so.”

Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had been bothered. He thought of all the times when he was little when his mother would take away the comic books he had borrowed from the library or forced him to watch the children's programming she had found on tv even though he was over eighteen.

Eddie also couldn’t remember the last time someone cared if he was bothered. He was so used to just doing what other people wanted him to do, what his mother wanted him to do, that being given options seemed so rare and new to him.

Richie waved a hand over Eddie’s face slowly. “You okay? Your eyes sort of glazed over there.”

Eddie blinked, not realizing he had been starring, drifting off into his thoughts. “I’m fine.”

Richie bobbed his head firmly. “All right. Well, do you want that ride or not?”

“Sure,” Eddie replied, deciding he had nothing to lose.

Richie beamed, his eyes lighting up behind those thick glasses of his. He followed Richie out to the parking lot, walking over to the car that appeared to be his. He didn’t know much about the car but knew it was nice enough. An older model. He had seen it once before, on the cover of a car magazine at the pharmacy.

“Ain't she a beaut!” Richie said as they approached the car.

It was blue, or at least it was supposed to be, but dirt stains and other things were covering it. Eddie couldn’t tell if it was dented or the car was just oddly shaped. Eddie just gave a small nod, letting Richie toss his gym back into the back before getting into the driver’s seat.

“Come on, big man!”

Eddie got into the passenger side of the car, surprised to find it somewhat clean. He had a McDonald's cup sitting in the cup holder and the air freshener hanging on the mirror didn’t seem to be working because the car itself smelt like grease and cigarettes.

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Richie told him as they pulled out of the car. “Do you mind if I peel into the Wendy’s on Union?”

“That’s fine,” Eddie replied smoothly.

Richie turned on the stereo the moment they hit the road. He had his music playing, a bunch of bands playing alternative rock songs that Eddie didn’t know. “You can change it if you want to. All music is good music to me,”

Eddie didn’t touch the radio. He let it play on as they drove, with Richie lowering it as they got to the drive-through. He half-shouted his order, pausing so he could turn back to Eddie. “What do you want?”

“What?”

“To eat? 4 for 4? Baconator fries? Spicy nuggets? Throw me a bone here, Eduardo.”

“My name is Eddie. Short for Edward.”

“Okay Edward, what do you want?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Dude, it’s fast food. You don’t eat fast food because you’re hungry. You eat it because it’s cheap and filling.” The muffled, machinal voice from the ordering box asked if that was all. “Hang on, one sec! Eds, pick something.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“You just got off of work, right? Did you have lunch?” Eddie gave Richie a small side-eye in response. “Yeah, I thought so. Hey! Sorry about that. Can I get two large Frostys and a large fry too? That’s all.”

Pulling up to the window, Richie paid and proceeded to hand Eddie the bag of food and placed the two Frosty’s in the cup holders. He took the McDonald’s cup and continued to drink it as they drove the rest of the way to the Hanscom household.

Richie parked up front, unbuckling his seatbelt as he shifted in the seat, turning to face Eddie properly. “All right. Let’s eat.” He declared.

He took his cheeseburger and bit into it, holding out the container of fries for Eddie to take. He stole three of them, chewing on them piece by piece. They weren’t as salty as the ones from McDonald's, nor were they as curly as the ones from Arby’s.

The Hanscom’s thrived on eating from home, but now and then they’d splurge and they’d all go out to dinner at Olive Garden or bring in Chinese. And on some nights, they’d go buck wild and get fast food because it was inexpensive and quick.

McDonald’s had been the first type of fast food Eddie had eaten. He wasn’t too impressed with the Big Mac, finding the extra piece of bread to be something of an overkill, but the regular cheeseburger was fine.

These fries were good as well, though Eddie found himself feeling a bit concerned when he caught sight of Richie dipping his fries into the Frosty.

“Oh don’t give me that look. Come on. Don’t knock it till you try it.” Richie argued, nudging Eddie’s arms.

Huffing a sigh, Eddie relented, going to dip the end of one fry into the Frosty, taking a bite of it. The sweet and salty elements weren’t bad. The cold and warm combination was a bit odd, but he didn’t hate it.

“Not the worst.” He admitted, shoving the straw into the heavy liquid. He tried to slurp it up but found himself unable to do so. “Why the fuck is this so thick?”

“Your mom asked me the same thing,” Richie said, his smirk only lasting a few moments before realization hit him faster than Ben’s elbow did the night of their fight. “Oh fuck. I’m sorry.”

Eddie offered a thin smile, keeping his eyes on his Frosty. He stirred it around, trying to melt it a bit so he could drink it.

“I’m guessing you know all about it,” Eddie mentioned quietly. “Reporters had come around the first few days I got here, but Mrs. Hanscom chased them away.”

“I just know what Ben told me. Overprotective mom and stuff. He didn’t go into a lot of detail.”

“Ben isn’t one for gossip.” He knew his cousin wouldn’t bitch or brag about the situation. Ben was a good person. Probably the best outside of his mother.

“You probably don’t want to talk about it,” Richie mentioned, sticking his straw into his own Frosty. “You can if you want to. I’ve been told I tend to run my mouth, but I like to think I’m a pretty good listener too.”

“Not much to say,” Eddie mentioned, attempting to take another sip.

Richie hummed, bobbing his head. They sat in silence for a few minutes, focusing on his meal while Eddie stirred his Frosty around, and around, and around.

“So how did you get into the whole fight club thing?” Eddie asked, deciding to cut through the silence and the gentle tension that was beginning to grow between them.

“You do know the first and second rule of fight club is to not talk about fight club right?” Richie snickered.

“Oh. I’ve never seen the movie so….”

“Stan invited me,” Richie answered. “He told me that I had, and I quote, ‘a very punchable face’ which isn’t something I’m completely surprised about.”

“Kind of rude.”

“But very on-brand for Staniel.” Richie insisted. “I don’t know, man. I started going to the gym, started hanging around with the other guys. They introduced me to it and I’ve been going for about a year now.”

“I don’t understand the point of it,” Eddie confessed to him. “Wanting to hit someone and cause pain.”

“It’s not about causing pain. Look, you know the adrenaline rush you get when you do something completely wild?”

Eddie started blankly to him, unable to come up with a single time he had done anything wild. The closest had been when he would surf the internet late at night when his mom thought he was sleeping.

Richie, not bothering to comment, carried on. “It’s that. We ride that rush for as long as it lasts. It’s hard to put into words. It’s like running and jumping, unsure if you’re going to stick the landing.”

“I think I get it,” Eddie told him. Giving up on the sucking, he pulled the straw out from the cup, licking it slowly, lapping up the sweet creamy flavor. Richie watched him for a moment, his eyes focused on Eddie’s mouth. “What?”

“I could teach you some stuff,” He mentioned, his eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s. “Working out. How to throw a punch.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Eddie answered.

“You don’t have to, but staying in shape is important. And if your mom did lock you away like some sick bubble boy, you’re going to need to bulk up if you ever want to make it in this world.”

“Stan was right. You do have a very punchable face.” Eddie declared.

He stabbed the straw back into the Frosty, deciding he’ll drink it at a later time when it was melted and suckable. He opened the car door, turning his head back to thank Richie for the ride.

“If you’re interested, come to the gym Friday morning,” Richie called out of the passenger side window.

“I’m opening Friday,” Eddie replied, pushing through the gate.

“Then come Friday night. What do you have to lose, man?”

Richie drove off before Eddie could even come up with an answer.

[yoon-ing]

Tangled Wires

Android!Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

New technology, a new companion, and a malfunction has a bigger impact on your life than you expect

Wandering the aisles of the electronics store, you feel intimidated by the advancements technology has made in recent years. The robots that stand tall along the walls of the store are so human-like that their stillness is almost eerie. You've done your research and decided on an android model, but as you browse through the displays, you can't find the one you want. Coming up to an employee restocking an accessory rack, you ask him for assistance.

“Excuse me,” you call out and he turns around to give you a pleasant smile. Your eyes travel to his name tag and you take note that it reads ‘Namjoon.’

“How can I help you miss?” he asks.

“I'm looking for an android, but I can't seem to find it on the shelves. It's the companion model,” you tell him, hoping that maybe you just missed the aisle or accidentally overlooked a label.

“Just one moment, please.”

Before you can respond, Namjoon shuts his eyes for a moment longer than a blink and when he opens them they are completely blank for a millisecond before foreign symbols and numbers flash across them. You're taken aback and the action makes you realize that you haven't been talking to a man named Namjoon, but to an android programmed to work retail. You're astonished how realistic he is and if it weren't for the inventory search scrolling across his eyes, you would have never known he is nothing more than a computer. With another long blink, his eyes go back to looking human with irises and pupils, and he pulls you out of your thoughts when he begins speaking.

“We currently have one companion android in stock,” Namjoon informs. “Would you like to see it?”

You tell him, “yes, please,” and you're asked to follow him.

Leading you to a far back corner, he presents a model that is shorter than he is but still taller than you. He has a slim build but full cheeks and his black hair brushes across his forehead, almost covering his eyes that stare blankly ahead with grey irises. You look him over carefully and you can't deny how attractive and cute this particular model is, his good looks and lean figure catching your eye. He looks friendly and kind and you don't need to think twice before you're telling Namjoon that you'll take it. He boots it up to factory mode and the grey eyes change to a warm brown as if he has just been sparked with life. Namjoon explains that the android is only booted up for your convenience, so you won't need to lug home a life-size computer and he takes you to the front counter to finalize the purchase.

Your giddy steps can hardly be contained as you make your way home with your brand-new android in tow and the only thing that keeps you from skipping down every street is the fear of damaging your latest purchase without the chance to even play with it. Once you and your android are secured in the safety of your own home, where he is safe from scratches and nicks, you finally break out the user's manual and get to work. First things first is to power him up completely and then he'll be able to guide you through the setup process himself.

Following Namjoon's instructions from the store, you do just as you were told. It's slightly more complicated than simply pressing a power button, to avoid accidental restarts and shutdowns you were told, and you sit the android down to get started. His on and off switch is located behind his left ear, but in order for it to be activated, you must fold down the third finger of his left hand. So, taking his hand in yours, you're the tiniest bit weirded out by how real he feels, and you proceed to fold down the ring finger, trying to be as gentle as possible as if trying not to hurt him. You doubt he, as a robot can feel pain, but he looks and feels so much like a regular 23 year old human that you can't help but treat him just the same. Bending his head forward, you reach behind his ear where you find a small switch and you flip it to the ‘on’ setting. Immediately, he sits up straight and you can't help but jump back in the slightest as he comes to life. It only takes a moment and before you know it, he's turning towards you with a gleaming smile on his face.

“Hello, my name is Jimin, what's yours?” he asks and his voice has a cheerful ring to it that you'll surely become fond of soon.

“I'm Y/N,” you introduce yourself and it almost doesn't feel as if you're talking to a robot.

“It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you my master?”

“M-master?” you stutter out, taken aback by his choice of words.

“Yes, master, the one I am to take orders from,” Jimin says, taking your hesitation as a need for clarification.

“Um, yeah, that's me, but you don't have to call me master,” you quickly let him know, feeling uncomfortable at even the thought of someone addressing you as their master.

“What would you prefer I call you?” Jimin politely asks, and although conversation feels very forced right now, you've read online that it will take a few days for your android to adjust to your lifestyle and start feeling more real.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you respond.

“Okay Y/N. Would you like to enable security features to prevent possible breaches?”

After responding yes, he guides you through security question selection and password creation until he is suggesting to add a fingerprint for extra measure and you agree with him. He holds out his pinky, as if to make a promise and you unsurely do the same. With your fingers locked, he instructs you to press your thumb to his, like sealing the promise, and your thumb print is read.

“All security measures are completed,” he announces with a smile. “Please input any personal data you would like me to store.”

The setup procedures come to an end and all that's left is to help Jimin get accustomed to your lifestyle so he can begin his duties as a companion. It doesn’t take much time, you’ve read that it can take up to a week until your android starts feeling like more than just a computer, but with Jimin following you around like a puppy, he absorbs everything about you in no time. All his basic software has been installed so he can help out with regular household chores like cleaning and cooking, but within a few days he already knows your favourite foods and the way you like to fold your laundry. Everything is going swimmingly, he’s a sponge eager to learn more and each task is completed with positive reinforcement from your side, but you soon begin to notice that maybe too much reinforcement is needed.

“Y/N!” Jimin exclaims when you come home from work, hurrying to the front door to greet you.

He has an excited smile on his face, as he usually does when you return from a day out and there’s an apron tied around his waist. You don’t need to ask him what he’s been up to when you get a whiff of the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Hi Jimin,” you happily greet as you kick off your shoes and set down your purse.

“I made dinner!” Jimin announces, looking at you expectantly.

“Thank you, Jimin, I’ll go get changed so we can eat,” you tell him, not wanting to keep the eager boy waiting.

“I did good, right?” he questions, his smile still bright and eyes round.

“You did great, Jimin,” you easily compliment, reaching up to pat him on the head, an affection you have come to realize has him perking up each time.

“I made your favourite soup,” he continues, “because it’s gloomy out today. It was thoughtful, wasn’t it?” He’s fishing for compliments, something you notice he’s been doing more and more every day.

“It was very thoughtful! Thank you, now let me go change so I can taste your soup.” You escape to your bedroom and you have to remind Jimin not to follow you and instead instruct him to set the table.

His not-so-subtle ‘please compliment me’ moments don’t stop there; it continues throughout the meal with him asking you how it tastes each time you put another spoonful in your mouth and it’s endearing, but slowly becoming too much.

Jimin’s job is to make your life easier by performing mundane tasks for you, while being at your side and providing companionship, and although he is doing all those things and more, the amount of attention he needs begins to worry you. He's supposed to be the one giving you attention, making you feel loved and cared for, but with the way he responds, or rather pushes for you to respond, the roles have reversed. His every task is completed with expectancy from you to reward him in some way, whether it be with compliments or cuddles or even a pat on the head. And when you don't comply, his cheerful demeanor turns into one of pouts and whines until he is getting what he wants. You're not sure how this all happened, but you feel like you're the one taking care of him when the thousands of dollars you spent should have him taking care of you.

Your online searches come up blank each time you scroll endlessly through forums dedicated to all things android and you finally decide that you'll have to take him into the shop where you bought him, to at least get some answers before figuring out if you need to take him to be repaired.

Jimin's eyes light up when you tell him he'll be joining you on an outing and you can't help but feel guilty, as if tricking a dog into going to the vet. You're slightly on edge waiting for the moment a look of betrayal crosses his features, but Jimin doesn't seem to catch on as the two of you approach the store and enter with the chime of a bell.

“Ms. Y/N, Jimin, how may I help you today?” Namjoon questions the moment he approaches the two of you.

You're about to ask how he remembers your name after only one encounter a month ago, but you realize you're being silly because your personal and financial information is probably stored away in his database.

“You can go look around,” you say to Jimin who stands next to you scanning the space. He gives you a warm smile and he's off to examine the other models situated around the store.

“Are you looking for any new accessories or software?” Namjoon asks when you return your attention to him.

“Actually, I'm here because there's a problem,” you begin, speaking quietly as if not to let Jimin hear. “I think something is wrong with Jimin.”

“May I please ask you to elaborate? And why are we whispering?” Namjoon responds in the same volume as you.

“... I don't want to hurt Jimin's feelings or scare him by letting him know something is wrong.” As the words leave your mouth, you hear how stupid you sound and you're glad you're not speaking to a human who can and most likely would judge you.

“Ms. Y/N, Jimin's display of emotions is no more than a reflection of your own, he does not have feelings the way humans do, so there is no need to worry,” Namjoon factually explains, “besides, many owners prefer to have their androids aware of issues so the android can recognize them if they are to occur again.”

Logically it makes sense, but part of you is still reluctant to let Jimin know what's going on, his human-likeness hard to ignore.

Namjoon must sense (or scan) your hesitance that is evident in your face and continues, “I can put Jimin into factory mode for the troubleshoot, it won’t affect his current programming and he will be unaware of the entire procedure.”

The thought alone puts your mind at ease and you immediately agree, calling Jimin over so Namjoon can begin with the scan. It’s the slightest bit disheartening to see Jimin’s eyes fade from a warm brown to a lifeless grey, but you know it’s for the best and try not to dwell too much on all the cables and plugs Namjoon uses to attach himself to Jimin. Namjoon’s own eyes also go from human-like to robotic with symbols scrolling across them as you saw during your first visit to the store and you’re not sure if it’s rude to so blatantly stare at an android, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes until Namjoon’s eyes return to normal and you know the scan is complete. “There seems to be a software issue with his core code. It is not threatening, but unfortunately, I personally cannot isolate the layer in order to further investigate.”

The news leaves you with mixed feelings, but before you can get lost in your thoughts, Namjoon continues.

“A more comprehensive scan can easily be completed by an android who specializes in software and programming. If you’d like, I can have someone take a look at him tomorrow.”

Feeling relieved that all this can be done on such short notice, you graciously thank Namjoon and he switches Jimin back on before the two of you leave the store.

It’s a restless sleep for you, worried about what the results will be tomorrow once Jimin is connected to a more powerful computer, but Jimin is soundly asleep beside you and that alone puts your heart at ease. You’re roused from your slumber to the feeling of feather light touches on your skin and it tickles when your disheveled hair is brushed away from your face. You open your eyes to find Jimin staring at you, his eyes big and bright like every other morning and you try your best to smile back, hiding the secret fear that lingers in the pit of your stomach of what is to come. What if he has a virus? Or he’s broken? Or what if his system is completely corrupt and is on the verge of failing?

Instead of dwelling too much on the worst possible scenario, you instruct Jimin to get ready for the day as you do the same. A light breakfast is all you can stomach and it’s slightly concerning how the idea of losing Jimin causes you so much distress.

It’s less than 40 minutes later when you arrive at the store. Namjoon told you to come back anytime between 11 and 2 and you stand at the doorway at 10:47. Jimin notices your nervous energy on the walk there but you brush him off each time, telling him it’s nothing and it will go away soon (you hope). Namjoon seems as if he is expecting you early once the bell chimes and you enter the store. He has only met you twice but he has obviously already scanned your entire personality and he greets you with no surprise at all when he lets you know everything will be ready in a minute.

You and Jimin mindlessly wander through the aisles and you offer to buy him everything he glances at, as if to compensate for what you’re about to put him through. He browses with fascination until the door chimes and a man walking into the store catches his attention. You do the same as Jimin and look over with curiosity as the figure makes his way straight towards Namjoon. He is tall and broad and walks with a confidence that makes him look like a super model. They greet each other in a friendly manner before they exchange a few more words and both of their heads are turning towards you. As if to not be rude, you quickly look away in hopes that it is not obvious that you’ve been staring, but Namjoon calls yours and Jimin’s names and motions you over.

“Y/N, Jimin, this is Seokjin,” Namjoon introduces, “our troubleshoot android and an old friend.”

You hadn’t realized at first that Seokjin wasn’t of the human race but getting a closer look, it becomes obvious that his features were sculpted with care to be nothing but perfect.

After the introductions, you’re being led to the back where there are parts and wires and all things to be expected in a computer shop. Jimin is switched into factory mode and Namjoon gives you a briefing of the procedure as Seokjin begins to connect cables. He explains that Seokjin is a much older model, one of the first series to be exact and while he is less human-like than the newest of his kind, he’s practically a super computer, specializing in software and technology. After being reinsured that Jimin is in good hands, you decide to step out of the room and wait out front where you fiddle with random accessories on display. It’s no different from the first time a software scan was run on Jimin; he’s hooked up to all these wires with no life in his eyes and although you know it’s perfectly safe, you can’t help but feel uneasy.

It feels like forever with the soft hum of hard drives and monitors in the background, but the wait soon comes to an end in what did not feel like less than 10 minutes and Seokjin calls you back into the room.

“So what’s wrong with him?” you can’t help but impatiently ask.

“There is an error in his system code,” Seokjin begins, “it’s the part of his code that gives him his personality. As you know, this model is meant to give companionship through attentiveness, affection and care. However, there’s been a simple, but unfortunately highly irreversible error, which has caused his software to do the opposite of what it is meant to.”

The word ‘irreversible’ rings in your head, repeating itself as you mull over what exactly that means for Jimin.

“You said he’s been seeking attention rather than giving it, correct?” Seokjin continues, as if he doesn’t notice the way your eyes sadden and mind wanders.

“Um, yes,” you respond after a moment of hesitation. “He still completes his tasks but asks for compliments.” You try your best to give Seokjin all the necessary information, but your mind is still stuck on what he said earlier.

He is about to say more, probably ask you another question, but you have to cut him off. “What do you mean by irreversible?”

“Highly irreversible,” Seokjin corrects. “There is a way to fix the code, however that would require a factory reset, meaning you will lose all information currently stored on him.”

“Everything…? And there’s nothing else we can do?” you ask, getting desperate.

“You will be able to back up all files, however, any behavior and personality traits will be reset.”

“And what would happen if we didn’t fix it?” you question, hoping that it doesn’t need to come to this.

“Well, he is more susceptible to viruses and software problems, but as you said, he completes all assigned tasks so there should be no major effect on his functionality.”

You’re relieved to hear that, but Seokjin barely gives you anytime to think it over before he’s asking how you’d like to proceed.

“Ms. Y/N,” Namjoon intervenes, “if you’d like some time to think about it, you can head home and give me a call tomorrow morning with your decision.” Namjoon is much more in tune with human emotions than Seokjin is, and you’re grateful that he understands your circumstances. Jimin is powered on and the two of you are saying your goodbyes.

The rest of the day is spent as it usually is; Jimin completes his chores and you sit behind your computer trying to get some work done. But your mind can’t seem to focus and you find yourself watching Jimin instead, your eyes following him around as he cleans and cooks. Once he’s done, he makes his way to the couch where you join him to relax before dinner. He suggests watching a movie, one that he chooses from an algorithm based on your viewing history. It’s a rom-com, your favourite type of movie and it’s one that would normally have you laughing at the clumsy protagonist and ‘awe-ing’ at the cheesy love interest, but with this decision weighing heavy on your shoulders, you can hardly find yourself paying attention to the screen.

All you can think about is losing Jimin and you can’t help but wonder why this is such a hard decision. It should be a rather simple one shouldn’t it? There shouldn’t even be a decision to be made; your computer is broken and a simple reformat will fix it. But why are you so torn up about this?

Morning comes after a sleepless night and you lie awake staring up at the ceiling. You haven’t made any move to get out of bed so Jimin stays in sleep mode next to you, his chest moving up and down as if he’s a living human being, so realistic that you can almost forget he isn’t.

The clock hits 9 and you know Namjoon is opening up the store. It hits 9:30 in what feels like a fleeting moment and you know he’s expecting your call. By 11, you are still laying in bed. Jimin has woken up but stays by your side at your request. The day goes by like this, Jimin asking what’s wrong while holding you in his arms. But you don’t give him an answer, and you don’t call the store, because it’s easier to ignore the truth than admit to yourself that you’re falling in love with a robot.

[awesomelephuoclocblog-blog]

Dropshiply Review: The #1 System for a 6-Figure Dropshipping Business!

https://lephuocloc.com/dropshiply-review/

The Sky is Falling Down. I keep getting some answers concerning how redistributing is dead in 2020.

It's unreasonably inconvenient

There's an abundance of competition

Shopify is dead

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Dropshiply Review

Substance [hide]

What is Dropshiply?

Dropshiply Review Overview

About Creators

Key Features

The points of interest

Reasonable Dropshiply Review: Is it worth your money?

Dropshiply Review Conclusion

What is Dropshiply?

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Stars

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CONS

I have not found any cons related reasonability of this thing yet.

Dropshiply Review Overview

Audit

Dropshiply was made by Devid Farah and his assistant Devid Farah. Triumph is a viable online promoter similarly as programming producer. His gathering has made countless dollars in arrangements, and they are known for their verifiable aptitude.

A bit of his things has been an amazing help to me and various publicists including Targeting Academy, TrendyCom, etc. All of them are significantly esteemed by various masters on the planet.

By and by, we should look at the accompanying bit of this Dropshiply Review and find its features!

Key Features

Just Some Of Dropshiply's Powerful Point and Click Features!

WP Connect: Automatically consolidate Dropshiply totally with your current WP stores

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Thing Reports: Get full reports on what number of things have been sold on your stores!

WooCommerce Integration: Dropshiply totally consolidates with WooCommerce so you can have all of your things appeared in your dashboard.

Inbuilt App Store: Dropshiply has a worked in App Store where you can download our Free and Paid online business applications to build up your business and improve your traffic, advancing and bargains!

Premium Themes: ​Our Theme Store consolidates in excess of 100 free and premium expertly organized electronic business points that you can use for your own store!

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Autoresponder and Email Integration: We have direct blends in with Aweber, GetResponse, Mailchimp and Sendy. You can in like manner fuse with some other application with our custom compromises

Bunches and numerous also surprising features! You will have the alternative to build 6 figure redistributing areas!

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[kihuis]

{04} Miracle Stranger

Kihuis’ days of Christmas series: Moon Taeil x Reader

Day Four: Reader is desperate to find a specific item for a Christmas present as it’s sold out everywhere so Taeil agrees to help find it.

Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: none!

This is the seventh toy shop you’ve stopped in for the last six blocks. There’s only three more within city limits and you’re not willing to hop on a train at this time of night especially during the holidays. Chances are, you’re not going to be able to find the right timing and you’d miss the right train car or even the right stop on the way.

Groaning in frustration, you shake your head at all the Marvel action figures, the Black Panther once again no where in sight. The sign advertising it outside the store didn’t warn you that it was sold out, even though right here, where the display for the popular toy says it in big red letters. Would have been nice to know this before you spent ten minutes in here navigating around other patrons and scurrying people trying to get their last minute gifts for the kids in their families.

The only thing your nephew asked for from your for Christmas was a genuine Black Panther action figure in mint condition. Getting it now would be a bit expensive, but you’re willing to do anything for the kid, that is, if you can find the damn thing before Christmas actually gets here.

You pace your way to the front of the store, stopping by the help counter that’s right in front of the entrance. The man behind the counter looks exhausted and you wonder if he’s been working all day. You can relate, having been around the entire the city since nine in the morning.

“Hi, you’re sold out of the Black Panther figurine,” you say once you reach the counter. “I need to know if there is any toy store around here that isn’t sold out of it, but not any on the east side because I’ve already scavenged.”

He stares at you with a blank expression and for a second you wonder if he heard a single word you said. But when his tired voice comes through his lips, you know this isn’t the first time he’s been asked the same exact question today.

“I’m sorry Miss. I only work at this store so I don’t know the inventory of others. I can order the toy for you if you wish.”

“When will it come in?” you ask.

He pretty much rolls his eyes as he stifles a yawn against his palm. “Purchases online typically take ten to fourteen business days to arrive in store.”

“Well I need it before the new year, so that won’t work for me,” you say frustratingly, growing tired of his attitude. But you’ve worked in a similar industry, so you don’t want to give him one back especially considering you don’t know how long he’s been working today.

“Is there anything else I can help you find, Miss?” he deadpans.

You sigh and tell him no before turning to leave. At this point, you wonder if it will even be possible to get the gift before tomorrow night which is when your train leaves to head to your childhood home where the whole family meets up for the holidays.

Once out in the cold air of December, you shiver a bit in your coat and look down the crowded street. There’s many last minute shoppers like you, rushing around for the final pieces of their loved ones and the like. It’s the craziest time of year and you never learn to get things done ahead of time, causing you to always be surrounded by excited and stressed shoppers, yourself being one of them.

Heaving a sigh, you pull out your phone and prepare to send your brother a text. You might as well let him know that if you can’t find the toy today, you’ll have to opt to get something different tomorrow morning.

Sold out everywhere. Checking a couple more stores but I’m not confident. He likes chocolate right?

Not a revolutionary gift, but it might have to do. At least food items are restocked daily at the grocery stores so you might have to resort to that.

You begin to make your way down the street towards the next toy store, weaving through foot traffic that’s headed in the opposite direction. Checking the time, you don’t even realize you’ve been out this long. The sun will start setting in less than an hour. Talk about a busy day.

Once you reach the toy shop, you’re disappointed but also relieved at the same time to see a sold out sign on the figurine you need. Sure, it obviously sucks they’re out but it’s nice that they at least gave you a heads up so you wouldn’t have to spend another twenty minutes looking aimlessly for a toy you won’t find.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you say at the sign, hanging your head back in defeat.

“You’re not the first to come by looking for that toy,” a voice says to your right. You look over to see a guy sitting on a stool with a guitar strapped around his chest, obviously taking a break from playing to warm up his fingerless-gloved hands. “It’s a popular one this year.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised then,” you reply.

The man smiles a bit and removes his guitar strap, placing the instrument back into its case, which has a few bills and coins in it. “Getting it as a Christmas present I assume?”

“For my nephew,” you answer with a nod. This guys is pretty cute, you have to admit. “He’s a big fan of the Marvel franchise. Has every single action figure but the Black Panther.”

Guitar guy stands from his stool and shoves his hands into his coat pockets to keep warm. “Where have you checked for it?”

“Pretty much everywhere. There’s a couple more stores down the street but I’m pretty much about to give up,” you say, nodding your head down the sidewalk.

“It’s a little out of the way, but I know for sure there’s a Marvel novelties store just outside the city. Just in case you can’t find it here,” he adds with a shrug.

You phone beeps in your pocket, a text from your brother saying not to worry about the toy and yes, your nephew does like chocolate - caramels are his favorite. Typing out a quick reply, you put your phone away and look back up to the guitar man.

“I was trying to avoid getting on a train this time of the day,” you say. “It’s all crowded and crazy right now. I think it’ll be too overwhelming.”

“Do you want some company?” he asks cautiously. If this guy wasn’t so charming with his looks and voice, you’d be a bit creeped out by the proposal. “I mean, I know where the store is and I’m headed that way anyways.”

You raise your eyebrows in question. “You’re willing to help a struggling stranger on a busy evening like this?”

“It’s the holidays. Why not help out someone who needs it? And I’m Taeil,” he suddenly says, sticking his hand out to you. “If it makes you feel better knowing my name.”

With a weird expression, you shake his hand, relaying your own name to him. It’s still odd to have a totally random man ask if you’d like help, but something about Taeil makes you want to trust him, so you do.

“As long as I can be home before it gets too dark. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. The store is just outside of town. Train should take less than ten minutes to get there and back.” Taeil closes his guitar case and picks it up, strapping it across his chest. “If we go there first, you should have time to check somewhere else in town.”

“Okay, sure,” you tell him. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he quips with a smile.

Taeil leads you down the crowded street with his hands in his pockets, making light conversation on your way to the train. You learn he’s from the same town you are, but is headed further north to spend the holidays with his large group of friends. You tell him a bit about your nephew and his love for the Marvel comics and movies. 

He laughs as you relive this year’s Halloween when the child coaxed you into dressing as Mary Jane Watson to his Spiderman. 

“He of course got tired and I was forced to carry him on my back all night,” you’re telling him as you approach the train station. “But I was happy to do it.”

“He sounds like the little firecracker,” Taeil laughs. "I hope we can find this action figure. It sounds like he’s pretty passionate about the franchise.”

“Me too,” you respond.

You follow Taeil onto the next train car, instantly regretting getting on the train this time in the evening. It’s almost too crowded and you hardly have room even in the corner. Luckily, two men stand from their seats to get off the train, leaving room for you to sit. Taeil remains standing next to you, letting a child take the seat beside you.

This kid has in his hands the one thing you’ve been searching for all day: a Black Panther action figure, still in its box and in mint condition. You smile down at the boy despite feeling a surge of jealousy fire through your veins. 

Taeil must see your aggravation, because he gives you a small nod and wink. You want to feel grateful for him being so reassured that you might find the toy at the Marvel store, but Christmas can’t always be full of miracles like in the movies and you’re losing hope, just the pessimist that you tend to be.

Once out of town and to the first stop on the ride, you and Taeil get off the train. You’re thankful to be back into the open air, glad you’re not cramped on a train car anymore, but the sun is starting to make its way down and tiredness is beginning to catch up to you.

The two of you trek through the semi-crowded streets until you reach a large store decked out in all Marvel decorations and Christmas lights. You’ve never been this way out of town, so you never knew there was a Marvel store this close to where you live. You’re impressed at the size of it, too.

“It doesn’t say sold out yet,” Taeil says, pointing to the giant sign in the window advertising the Black Panther action figure. He leads you into the store where there’s a few shoppers littered throughout.

A couple kids are running around with giant Hulk hands and Iron Man masks. Dads are lined up by the comic books, looking through the older additions and moms are in the check out line, ready to purchase the last minute toys. You notice one of them is holding the Black Panther in her arms, clutching it close to her chest. Your face lights up in hope, thinking you might just find what you’ve been looking for. 

You make your way through the store, looking for a worker who can lead you to the action figures. Taeil hangs behind, looking through the Marvel based games and trading cards.

As soon as you find a woman with a name tag you stop her.

“Excuse me, where are your action figures located?” you ask.

She points towards the back of the store. “Right back there. Any in particular you’re interested in?”

“Black Panther.”

The girl cringes sheepishly, sucking in a breath. “I just saw the last one we had stocked taken off the shelf just tow minutes ago.”

You feel your shoulders drop in absolute agony and annoyance. If you can’t find the one Marvel toy you need a Marvel store, you’re not going to find it anywhere.

“Is there something else I can help you find?” the girls asks now, empathy laced in her voice. This obviously isn’t her first rodeo when it comes to a disappointed shopper.

“How often do you guys restock?”

“We get in orders every other day during the holidays today was the restock. I’m really sorry,” she tells you.

“Thanks,” you sigh, walking back towards the entrance. Taeil catches up to you as you walk out the door, pouting.

“Seriously? Sold out here, too?”

“It’s not that huge a deal,” you reply with a defeated shrug. “Some things just aren’t meant to be. He wanted a popular action figure, it shouldn’t be surprising it’s sold out everywhere.”

“I feel bad that we came all this way,” he grumbles, glancing back at the store for a moment.

“It’s okay. I’m actually glad you came with me. It was nice having company,” you tell him honestly. You wouldn’t even mind getting to see him again, but you don’t tell him that.

“At least let me see that you get home okay,” he suggests, nodding towards the train station again.

“I’d like that.”

Twenty minutes later, Taeil is walking you down the street towards your apartment complex, you unfortunately empty handed. You plan to stop in the morning to look for a bag of caramel chocolates for your nephew seeing as you couldn’t get him the gift he really wanted.

“Thanks again for offering to help,” you tell Taeil as you approach your door.

“Shame we couldn’t find your nephew’s gift,” he replies.

“There’s always next year,” you say with a smile. “I’m not complaining that I met you though. Maybe we’ll have to look around town for presents more often.”

“Maybe so,” he laughs. 

Taeil watches you unlock your front door before sticking his hand out to you again. You smile shyly and shake it, thanking him again before he disappears down your street. It’s only now that you realize you didn’t get his number, so you quickly try to catch up with him, but somehow he’s already long gone. Confused, you look up and down your street again, trying to catch any glimpse you can of his brown hair and guitar, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

The next morning, you wake to get ready to head to your hometown. You’re still disappointed you weren’t able to find your nephew the action figure he so desperately wanted, but you can’t dwell on it too much because it’s Christmas time and it’s supposed to be a happy and warm holiday. You’re sure your nephew would just appreciate you being home if anything.

After gathering the few gifts you have for the rest of you family, you make your way out the door but nearly kick over something on your doormat. When you look down, you notice a plain box with a note on top of it. Picking it up, you walk back into your apartment, thinking it’s just some mail that a neighbor dropped off, but when you see your name written in unfamiliar penmanship, you stop short, seeing the message written on the note.

Hope your nephew gets everything else he wants this year. And I hope you do too! :) xx Taeil

Eyebrows creasing together, you open the box and your heart nearly stops. Inside is the one thing you’ve been looking for and was never able to find: a Black Panther, unopened, mint condition action figure, signed by the actor himself.

So many questions run through your head: how did Taeil manage to get this? How long has he had it? And why give it up to a stranger he helped for one night?

Flipping over the note from Taeil, you’re glad to see a phone number scrawled across the back.

Checking the time, you realize you need to go now if you don’t want to miss your train. You quickly close the box, not bothering to wrap it and take the note with you, fully anticipating to call Taeil as soon as you get the chance.

Maybe Christmas miracles can happen after all.

[eonmorgan10]

How To Start a Dropshipping Business In 2021?

Online businesses are on an ultimate high and are extremely lucrative, if we look at the ecommerce sales that were around $3.5 trillion in 2019, $4 trillion in 2020 and by 2021 it’s predicted to reach a whopping $4.8 trillion. So, if anyone wants to open an online store, now is the best possible time to do so. One such extremely money-spinning business is dropshipping, which is a great way to venture in the world of entrepreneurship. If you do this business, you can build a very successful and sustainable source of income. Take shopify services and reach new heights with this online business model with very low-risk.

What is Dropshipping Business?

Dropshipping is a business model that is known for one reason- no need to have any inventory! There are three main facets of this business model, the manufacturer, the retailer (that’s you) and the final consumer. The manufacturer has the most to do here, he has to create products, manage the inventory, ship the products to the clients, provide after-sales services and also restock the products. The manufacturer has to sell the products to the retailer with the risk of not selling. Whereas, the retailer that will be you, has the least risk factor. You just have to put the products on your site under your own brand name, you can set the pricing as per your wish, you can market them however you prefer and you’ll be responsible for the shipping costs. The last facet is the final consumer, who will order directly from the retailer and if any issue arises will contact the retailer.

Is Starting a Dropshipping Business a Good Idea?

I think dropshipping business is a great idea, it’s a low-risk, low-cost and low-maintenance work. The startup cost dropshipping business is the website cost, marketing costs of the products, packaging of the products if you have your own logo and shipping costs. You don’t have to maintain any inventory, no product manufacturing, no losses of unsold products and no fixed costs of employees shipping the products. This business can be run on the go, as most of the steps are automated. It’s a great side business and will run you a handsome amount of money with less effort.

How to Start Dropshipping Business?

Like all businesses, dropshipping will also need your time, energy and commitment. Don’t expect to have a 6-figure income within the 6 months of startup. Keep your expectations grounded and work hard to build a reputable brand, the rest will follow. But there are other factors that you also have to take into account to start a dropshipping business model, so let’s uncover them one by one.

1.    Choose a Business Idea

The first step for setting up a dropshipping business model is to find a niche that is profitable and you are also passionate about. But the truth is that you feel zealous about any business that makes you good profit, so do extensive market search, don’t fall into the pits of saturated products and opt for trending items which are different yet highly lucrative. There are many ecommerce tools that can help you find that perfect business idea to start your own dropshipping business.

The first tool is the Google trends that lets you know if the niche is on an upward or downward trend. But don’t use this tool alone to gauge the niche, you’ll also have to pay heed to the search volume which can be done by the next tool called Keyword search. This tool allows you to see the search volume of the niche and also its competitors. Oberlo order volume tool lets you see the volume of sales of the niche and collectively all these tools will give you a comprehensive outlook of the niche.

2.    Competitor Breakdown

Once you have zeroed on which product or products, you’re starting your dropshipping business to be aware of your competitors as they’re the ones who will be sharing your profit margin and in order to get the higher share you need to be cognizant of their strategies and policies. This can be done with simple google searches, put the niche in the google search and see which top brands come as a result, study those brands and for a more comprehensive study, search those brands through Alexa and get to know all about them in more detail. Also check their social media handles, their sales and if possible, order products from them to see their quality, packaging and shipping service.

3.    Find a Manufacturer

Now comes the most critical and imperative step, find a supplier for that product. You can do that easily on the Oberlo platform, where you type your selected products, choose from the list of certified sellers and make your decision based on their reviews, ratings and time they have been registered on the platform. When you have narrowed down your list to 2-3, you can simply order samples from them and ultimately decide from there. Don’t forget that your dropshipping business heavily relies on the supplier/manufacturer so choose wisely.

4.    Build your Brand

Branding your dropshipping business will be the game-changer and the only difference between you and your competitor. Make sure you go all in with it. Branding doesn’t only mean having a logo and packaging in a certain style, it means that your brand should be felt from all aspects. Take help from shopify web designers and take shopify services to build and launch your brand. You need to have a domain name, sign up for shopify, install Oberlo and create a brand with a mindset of long-term business module.

5.    Market your Brand Extensively

The last step is to make sure that your brand reaches to the all-potential customers out there and marketing your brand is the only way to do that. There are many marketing tools like influencer marketing, social media campaigns, content creation, SEO, paid search and even free media coverage.

Summary

There you have it, in this article we have tried to cover all the aspects which will help you to start your dropshipping business with ease. Starting a new venture is always nerve-wrecking but when you know that you have a perfect guide that can help you get through whenever you get stuck, it's just amazing.  So gear up and conquer the world of Ecommerce.

[sincerelycreek]

head in the clouds but my gravity’s centered // part 1

Summary: Stan is an alcoholic, and it’s just as hard on Kyle as it is on Stan. He just wants to help. Warnings: please be cautious!! there is VERY heavy mention of drinking, alcoholism, and mentions of a parent’s death. if any of that triggers you, i have much softer one-shots you can read. this is heavy angst with a happy ending. A/N: i just wanted to say i’ve never dealt with alcoholism (however, i’ve had people close to me with different addictions) and i did a lot of research online to write this. just so you know, alcoholism is different for everyone so how i am portraying stan’s can be different to anyone else’s. if you or someone you know struggles with alcoholism, i strongly urge you to accept the road to recovery and get the help you deserve. call a hotline, see a professional, go to rehab, whatever measures is necessary for you or your loved ones. recovery is possible.

Stan remembers the first time he drank alcohol. Everyone around him did, too. It was just at a high school party, and it wasn’t a big deal. It really wasn’t. All teenagers drink, all his friends were just as trashed as he was. Stan remembers puking in the Donovan’s urn the next morning, and his super best friend at the time Kyle dragging him home. He was only fifteen then, and despite teenagers being capable of having that problem, he didn’t.

The problem didn’t start until his senior year of high school. He became more dependent on it, and no one noticed. They, including his family and friends, brushed it off as a child acting out due to to the stress of college. Kyle, Stan’s loving boyfriend, was the only one worried but never spoke of it. Fortunately for Stan, Kyle was smart enough to get into any college and went to the same school as him. They moved into a small apartment together, their relationship blossoming, and so Kyle was able to see everything. They’ve been in college for three years, nearly done, and no feelings have changed. But, unfortunately, the bottle in Stan’s hand was downed every time he felt a speck of sadness, and he was desperate to feel the buzz.

It was the afternoon, and Kyle was just shoving open the door open. The bedroom, kitchen and living room were all connected, so when he walked in the first thing he saw was Stan passed out cold on their shared bed. Beside the bed was a few empty bottles, that made Kyle frown. He dropped his bag on the ground before kicking off his shoes; making his way towards the bed. He reached out and gently began shaking Stan by the shoulder. “Stan? Stan, wake up,” he whispered.

In response, Stan began waking but curled away from Kyle’s touch while groaning. “No,” he whined. “Not today, mom. I don’t want to go to school.”

“You didn’t go to school,” Kyle stated, almost snappy. He worried for Stan in other ways too, knowing that his boyfriend didn’t attend his morning class. “Why? Are you sick?” Before Stan could respond, he took off his glove and pressed the back of his hand to Stan’s forehead, checking for any hot temperatures radiating off.

Stan groaned again, batting Kyle’s hand away. “Just a headache. Hangover,” he answered, throwing his arm over his face to cover it. “I must have missed my alarm. I’m sorry.” His voice was muffled, and his face was covered to keep him from seeing, but he knew Kyle’s disappointed face was staring right at him.

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” Kyle offered, gently patting Stan once more. He went to their medicine cabinet, and returned with two white pills and a bottle of water. Stan didn’t hesitate in taking them both, and Kyle sat on the edge of the bed in silence. He waited until Stan finished before breaking the silence. “Stan, isn’t this the fourth night in a row that you’ve went out to drink?” He asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?” Stan hummed, setting the water down on their nightstand before peeping at Kyle. “Yeah, I think so. Was.. Bored, last night.” It was a lie, and Kyle knew it, but didn’t comment on it.

“Okay,” Kyle replied simply. It was too late for Stan to go to class, so he chose to lay down beside him. On instinct, Stan draped his arm over Kyle and pulled him close. Kyle winced when smelling the alcohol lingering out of Stan’s mouth as he breathed. This was just the beginning. Kyle just wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

-x-

Stan was out with Kenny and Kyle when something strange happened to his body, after not drinking for two days. It was something he hadn’t experienced before, and although it scared him just a bit, he didn’t fight it. The three friends were together, catching up with Kenny who worked so often he didn’t have much time for either boys. They were at Stan and Kyle’s apartment, laughing and having a good time as their fingers mashed controllers hooked up to the game system.

In the middle of an important battle, the controller Stan was holding dropped to the floor when his right hand twitched harshly. Kyle paused the game quickly and whirled his head to Stan in worry. Only for a split second he saw the way Stan’s hands were trembling before Stan was shoving them in his pockets.

“Sorry,” Stan apologized. “Kinda got to into the game.” Both him and Kenny had shrugged off the moment with a laugh, but Kyle stayed silent. “You two can play without me.”

It was only a few minutes later that the trembling became too much for Stan to handle. He knew what his body needed, what drink needed to be downed his throat until the twitching and shaking would just stop. “I’m going to get a drink,” he announced to the two, standing from the bean bag he had been sitting on. “Do you two want anything?” He asked, hoping it would seem less suspicious.

Kenny accepted, but Kyle shook his head. He tried to focus on the screen in front of him, and suddenly wished that there was a wall between him and Stan so he could talk to Kenny in private. He was growing worried that Stan had a problem, a real problem, that needed to be fixed before it got worse. However, he shoved those feelings deep down and tried to assure himself that if Stan was scared then he’d expose that part of himself to his boyfriend. They’ve always been honest with one another, and if Stan believed that he was okay than Kyle believed him.

As it turns out, it doesn’t matter what Stan believed in. Because he did have an alcohol problem.

The night that Kyle questioned it more was days after. Stan had failed an important test, and the professor was refusing to let him retake it or do any extra credit to bring his grade up. Kyle had felt bad, and offered to have a night to themselves - put on some Netflix, pajamas, stuff their face with snacks, and relax to get the weight off.

Stan had agreed to Kyle’s suggestion. He thought it would be better than throwing pillows and being upset over a bad mark, so he offered to run down to the small corner store down the street. Kyle watched, silent, as Stan laced up his boots and grabbed his jacket. “Wait!” He suddenly called out, making the other stop short and look at him in questioning. “Just, uh, the snacks, dude. Please.”

Kyle didn’t need to push the comment further. Stan understood, and it upset him. He suddenly had felt defensive, and almost hurt. “What, I can’t pick up a few bottles?” He asked, his hand on the doorknob, ready to pull it open and run. He could sense an argument coming, and those were never good. They argued just about as much as normal couples do, if not less. “We’re out,” he added. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Gesturing towards the fridge, Kyle raised his eyebrows at Stan. “We’re out,” he repeated. “Because you drank it all.” It was true. They barely had a restock of two six packs for three days before it was gone. “I just don’t see why you need to drink tonight, dude,” he spoke honestly. “I just want to have a quiet night.”

“It will be!” Stan argued, growing more defensive. “Sometimes when people are upset, they just need a drink. What’s the big deal?” He demanded to know. “You drink sometimes too!”

“I drink maybe twice a month, if that,” Kyle retorted. The conversation was going more heated and both of them were growing more stubborn. “I just don’t think you should be drinking every day dude, it could be a problem, maybe we should talk about it - “

Stan cut Kyle off quickly. He was already speaking the words that Stan had been dreading to hear since they rented the apartment together, and Kyle saw more of his drinking routine. “Problem?!” He repeated, but louder. “It’s not a problem! I just need a little bit of relief sometime!”

The outburst put a silence between them before Stan spoke again, breaking it, with a heavy sigh. “It’s not a problem,” he said again, and tried to assure Kyle, being more gentle with his words this time. “I know it’s cheesy, but I really can stop any time I want. I just need some tonight, then I won’t for awhile,” he vowed.

Kyle didn’t reply for a second. He crossed his arms over his chest, upset. “Please don’t tonight,” he finally said, more firm.

This time, Stan didn’t answer. He walked out of the apartment, slamming the door shut loudly behind him. The sound echoed and made Kyle flinch. He wanted nothing more than to run after him, hug him, and give him the help he knew Stan needed.

Later that night, Kyle was awoken by a loud sound. After Stan left, Kyle had flipped on the TV before eventually falling asleep. His body was jolted upwards, and his eyes flickered the dark room before landing on the dark figure. He was ready to grab the wooden baseball bat that he kept hidden under the bed, until he recognized the figure to be his boyfriend.

“Stan?” Kyle whispered. He pushed off the blankets, making his way to the other. He flicked on the light, and could suddenly see what the crash was. On the floor, in front of Stan, was a pile of shattered glass. Stan looked exhausted, his eyes rimmed red, and looking pale. Kyle carefully walked around the glass shards, to get to Stan, before reaching his hands up and touching his face. He felt oddly warm, but it could be considered normal. “Are you alright?”

“Kyle,” Stan spoke, his eyes glazed as he stared at the other. “I love you.” Kyle watched as Stan reached up to grab his hand, squeezing it tightly against his face. “I love you so, so much.”

Kyle smiled sadly. “Let’s get you to bed.” He helped strip Stan out of his jacket, and led him carefully to the bed. “Sit,” he instructed him. Stan complied, plopping down and almost stumbling backwards. The drunk one watched as Kyle grabbed a hoodie and pajama pants off a chair, possibly dirty, but handed them to Stan by throwing them on the bed. “Here, get dressed.”

“I can’t,” Stan whined. “I’m tired. I - I need to - “ He began choking a bit, and Kyle immediately caught in. He quickly grabbed the small waste basket next to their bed. He held it up, and in a second, Stan’s head was in it and he was making awful noises while gripping the sides. Kyle stood before sitting beside him, stroking Stan’s hair back lovingly as he threw up.

Eventually it finished, and Stan dropped it. He wiped at his mouth with his hand, a line of drool following it. Frowning, Kyle patted him on the shoulder in comfort. “Lay down,” he told Stan. “Go to bed.”

That was easy for Stan to do. He threw himself onto a pillow and shut his eyes, growing limp against the sheets, leaving Kyle to do everything that was left. As best as he could, he pulled Stan’s shirt off him and carefully slid the hoodie on. He moved onto the jeans next, unbuttoning them and sliding them down Stan’s legs before replacing them with the bottoms. He tossed the two articles of clothing on the floor, figuring he’d care for them in the morning.

Kyle had no choice but to pick the bag out of the waste basket, full of Stan’s puke, before trying the bag and tossing it into the real large trash can in the kitchen so the apartment wouldn’t smell. Despite being tired, he grabbed the broom while in the kitchen and sweeped up the glass shards from the bottle Stan had dropped, adding that to the trash as well. Finally, Kyle finished by shutting the light back off and crawling under the covers with Stan.

But not before grabbing his phone and sending a quick text to Kenny.

To: kenny (12:43 am) ‘We need to talk tomorrow. It’s about Stan.’

PART 2

[jestdrabbles]

Every Hurdle, Every Chasm - Chapter 04

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Warnings: none Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako, Asui Tsuyu, Todoroki Shouto Relationships: Dekusquad friendship | Pining Tododeku & Tsuchako Other info: Dekusquad Roadtrip AU ; Fun times ahead but also some emotional times so I should definitely warn about that!; MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS.

Words: ~8,100 | Chapter: 04/? | Language: English

I guess this would be the chapter where things start taking a turn, but nothing too dramatic (I think?) ;; 

Also on AO3

Day 04 - Watching Your Back [December 27]

Try as she might, Tsuyu joins the others in her quiet croaks of sleep around midnight, and Shouto silences the radio in favor of plugging his earbuds into his own phone and listening to the news through his left ear. This time of night, cars are scarce, headlights as ghosts beckoning a second glance as they haunt his peripheral. His hand hangs loose at the base of the wheel, and he leans back in his seat once he’s set into cruise control.

“...two bodies have been identified at the scene, both suffered severe burns. One appears to be another of those experimental henchmen from the League of Villains, but the other has not yet been identified with any relation to the league,” the reporter reads into his ear, and he resists the urge to search the location in other articles since he’s missed the beginning portion of this stream. With the frequency of these attacks, they should repeat the information soon enough. He can already piece together the story: one victim burned by a villain with a fire quirk, the Noumu by a hero. Judging by the specifics in fire, he reduces the possibilities down to Dabi and Endeavor, and the report confirms the latter more than once. His suspicion of Dabi only because his father wouldn’t bother with arson unless the villain was high-profile enough.

“No arrest this time, but the Number One Hero assures this villain’s apprehension is his top priority,” the reporter continues without supplying a clip of the statement, most likely to keep Endeavor’s furious image out of the public’s widespread attention. Shouto almost wishes he could see it himself. “...He will not be returning to his agency until these incidents come to an end, but his agency is still accepting and tackling lesser cases with more than enough capabili--”

“Why’re you?” he hears the slurred speech from the back seat through his right ear and suspends his breathing as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. His eyes dart to the rearview mirror to catch sight of Izuku still against Tenya with Ochako leaning on him, and all three appear to be asleep. To be safe, he calls Midoriya once, lowly, without response; he chalks it up to sleep-talk and exhales a ghost of his own.

“No other reported activity in Yutapa, but officials are standing by to ensure civilian safety for the night,” he takes his phone from the cupholder and justifies a location search to use as a potential gas stop, and the city only deviates from the original route enough to add an extra twenty minutes. He sets the directions and continues listening to the news, even if the rest no longer pertains to his father’s whereabouts.

If he could trust his sidekicks to answer without relaying it back to their boss, he wouldn’t have to rely on something so unnecessarily roundabout. Annoying. That’s what he’d told Izuku dealing with his father is like. He could attribute the ire to his exhaust, but there’s something he cannot name dragging him back into the person he’d thought he’d buried.

Shouto glances down to the hem of his sleeve and feels the gray band heavier around his wrist, then back to the road as he approaches the exit.

He pulls into the nearest gas station in the city, lights understandably down by how much time has passed between the villain attack earlier in the evening and two in the morning, but he figures direct communication with locals would be more beneficial than trying to hunt down specifics online. He leaves his scarf on his seat and the gas to the attendant and locks the doors of the van with one last look to his friends resting inside.

Shouto walks quickly to make his payment, time ticking in the back of his mind.

Dry-mouthed, Ochako swallows and struggles to fall back asleep in the stillness until she opens her eyes in a strained squint. Somewhere in the night, she’d ended up toppled onto Izuku’s side, but her movement fails to wake him when she sits up. The lights pouring into the quiet car alert her of their location, but from the looks of it, theirs is the only car present at the gas station with no attendant or driver in sight.

“Hey, Deku?” she mumbles then realizes he won’t wake easily from his sleep, so she shakes his arm in her best efforts not to jostle Tenya in the reaction. “Deku, wake up,” she repeats, louder and closer to his ear.

“Mm?” he grumbles and tries to shoo her hand away, but she persists. “What? Why?” he asks, in the process of coming back from his dream, and she tugs his arm to try and help him sit up to stay awake.

“Sorry Deku, but I don’t want to freak out the other two. Todoroki’s gone.”

“He’s prob’bly just paying for gas,” he surmises once taking in their environment, and he rubs his eye. She double checks through the window to see the station empty, his obvious height and hair nowhere to be found inside.

“No, I don’t see him,” she whispers. He pats his hand in the blanket, then his pants, and lastly leans down to search the floor until he finds his phone slipped under the seat. The bright light betrays him, and he glances away to squeeze his eyes shut and try a second time. Ochako apologizes again under her breath, but he shakes his head.

Rather than type out a whole message, Izuku sends a vague question mark to Shouto and waits for either the read receipt or for him to call. When neither happens, he suggests waking the other two even if it results in conflict because this is worrisome, but before he has a chance, Ochako leans forward to try and get a better inspection of a figure jogging back toward them from down the road.

Izuku believes Shouto should consider himself lucky when he opens the car door, breath straining to leave him, but concern takes over the two of them first. “What happened? Where did you go?” Ochako asks, and he passes her a plastic bag, presumably from the convenient store at the station. She accepts but gestures that she’d like an answer to her questions.

“Sorry. I didn’t expect it to take that long,” he takes his seat and suppresses the sound as best as he can before starting up the engine. “I wanted to see what route would be safer to work from since there was a villain attack earlier, but the cashier told me to double check with the police box nearby to be sure.”

“Did you get my message?” Izuku asks, and he nods as they pull out of the station.

“I was already on my way back, so I figured I would get here before explaining over text.”

“Okay, so then what’s this?” Ochako asks and ruffles the plastic bag.

“Happy birthday.”

Her eyes widen, and she pulls open the bag to find packages of mochi, chocorooms, and sugar stars. Izuku fumbles over his own decree of wishing her a happy birthday, but she tells him not to worry about it because it’s late and there’s no reason to have noticed the date change yet. “I don’t know what to say… thanks, guys.”

“We should be in Sapporo by tonight, right?” Izuku asks, and he confirms it. “Then why don’t we treat Uraraka to dinner?” He smiles, but Ochako waves her hands in protest, overcome with their friendly treatment and her own desire to mute them and crash back into sleep.

“So wait, are the roads okay?” she conveniently changes the topic back to his disappearance, and he continues following instruction via the mechanical voice from his phone.

“A few streets are closed off dealing with the debris, but I can avoid getting in the way of it. Sorry again for looking into that without telling anyone.”

“As long as you don’t do that again, it’s okay,” she turns to Izuku, but he’s already asleep again once the worry’s died down. “The car got kind of cold though.”

“Got it,” he wriggles his arm loose from his cardigan sleeve and lets his left radiate heat faster than the car. Ochako leans closer to the center to reach it sooner, and she brushes her hand at her defrosting nose. “More?”

“No, this is perfect, thanks,” she cozies up to Izuku and closes her eyes. “You can ease it down once the car is all warm though. M’gonna try and go back to sleep.”

He bids her goodnight and returns the bud to his ear for directions, synthesized voice filling the silence where his friends all join in dream. Shouto yawns and reaches for the empty cup holder and mentally kicks himself for not restocking on something to drink. With his hand already hovering over the vacant space, he shifts to the other and takes hold of his phone to pull up something to listen to.

All Might’s voice nearly roars in his ear, but he doesn’t dare lower the volume.

Moments before daybreak, Shouto finally surrenders to the shoulder and pulls over to grip the wheel and lower his face onto his knuckles, kneading his left eye. An hour of sleep hadn’t cut it; it never does, even if he’s supposed to operate on it without burning out. He waits out the sunrise with the ocean on their left, quiet and cold and pulling colors in their currents. Dawn peeks over the horizon as light filters through the car windows, and he pulls back from the wheel to watch indirectly over the sun.

Careful of the noise, he opens the door and slides from his seat to the ground, readjusting his cardigan and pushing the door just enough to rest without closing completely. He walks toward the back of the van and leans against it behind the short barrier separating the cliffed edge from the ocean, and Shouto rubs at his tired eyes with his sleeve pulled over his palm. He crosses his arms and appreciates the silence of the morning as other cars pass on by.

The sound of a phone’s camera alerts him louder than any car door, and he jerks around to Tenya lowering his phone and approaching his side. “It was a great opportunity, I couldn’t resist.”

“Morning,” he greets, and the taller boy stretches and places his hands on his hips.

“Good morning,” Tenya gets a better glimpse of his face and furrows his brows. “Are you all right? Your eyes are--”

“I’m working on my Aizawa-sensei impression,” he indicates his scarf and bloodshot eyes, hair disheveled from the wind. He doesn’t buy it, but he appreciates the attempt, so he shakes his head.

“Please get some sleep, Todoroki. I can take over now.”

“Hey guys, is the car okay?” they both shift to see Ochako opening the left door and peeking her head out, Izuku groggy on her shoulder and hair a mess.

“Perfectly. Todoroki and I were changing shifts,” he explains, and they slip out the car carefully as to not knock the door against the barrier. Ochako encourages Tsuyu to join them, and soon, all five our out on the roadside stretching their legs and yawning in the morning light.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you, Shouto,” Tsuyu approaches him as the others react loudly to her addressing him by his given name, but she continues, “especially after I said it was rude to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tsuyu,” he plays along at shocking them awake, and Izuku’s eyes dart between the two.

“Something happened.”

“Something definitely happened.”

“Snooze you lose,” Tsuyu sticks her tongue out, grinning proudly at having all her friends on a first-name basis. Shouto doesn’t provide any further explanation for the development, but he gives one last look out toward the sea.

“We should get going,” Tenya attempts to usher them back inside the van, and they give some final stretches before shuffling back in. Shouto leaves his thoughts behind at the barrier and climbs into the backseat with Tsuyu at its center and Ochako at her side. Izuku claims the front seat and rubs at his face with his sleeves to warm it a little.

Before Shouto dedicates himself to another nap, he reaches into the backseat for his luggage and pulls out a smaller bag filled with separate medical supplies than his main kit. He takes out a tiny tube of lotion and dabs it on his fingertip and pulls his hair back to apply it on his eyelid and around his scar. He finishes up with some eyedrops to both strained eyes and zips it shut, returning it to his luggage and settling his seat back.

“We’ll keep it down,” Izuku assures him from the front seat, and the others agree.

“I don’t want to sleep the whole time,” he wipes under his eye from the drops to catch the solution, and he blinks back to Izuku readying a counter. “I’ll try to sleep earlier tonight to get back on schedule since we won’t have to drive as much. There’s also the ferry.”

“Finally fixing your sleep schedule, huh?” Ochako teases, and he closes his eyes with a hummed mmhm. She pulls the plastic bag he’d given her during the night and retrieves the mochi to share with anyone for an easy breakfast, sure to give him credit for the gift.

“It’s a shame we’re spending most of your birthday on the road,” Tsuyu says after taking a bite from the red bean mochi, and she ponders until Izuku shares their suggestion of treating her later. “In that case, you have plenty of time to think about what you want.”

“Guys, really,” she dusts the powder off her fingers and reaches for a bottled tea from her own bag, “you don’t have to do this. I’m already having a great birthday!”

“Yeah, but let us do it anyway,” Izuku smiles. “We never really get to celebrate this kind of stuff.”

“He’s right. It also gives us something to look forward to after the drive,” Tenya adds in a lighthearted tone. She succumbs to their sweetness and indulges in another bite of her mochi, extending the plastic container to anyone else for seconds. Their ever-attentive driver politely declines, and he sets the radio to the morning newscast with the volume hardly audible to the backseat. Having moved on from planning, Ochako offers Tsuyu one of her earbuds so they can watch some videos together, and they keep pressed against one another to avoid tugging at the cords and watch the screen.

Eventually, Tsuyu leans her head against Ochako’s shoulder, and they snuggle up with a blanket drawn over their laps.

Tenya listens to the news report, vocally grateful that they weren’t caught in any of the turmoil occurring nearby, but Izuku keeps his voice down as he confesses Shouto’s strange behavior last night. His intention isn’t to tattle but to seek advice on how to confront the issue without causing friction; Tenya shakes his head and reassures him that things will be fine.

Don’t think about it.

Izuku holds onto that as he watches out the window.

“C’mon, Tsuyu,” Ochako offers her arm for her froggy friend to cling to as they exit the gasoline-drenched air of the parking level, “they have some outdoor heaters over by the front deck! Or I guess we could go inside one of the cabins.”

“Let’s stay outside for a bit. Some fresh air will be nice,” she presses her cheek into Ochako’s arm as they walk through the windy air. She thanks her multiple layers for separating her quickening heartbeat, but the way Ochako nudges her affectionately with her arm reassures her that the obviousness of it wouldn’t be so bad. They find a heater near the rail and away from the other huddled passengers and lean back against the bars.

They share in the warmth, Ochako shaking a tenseness from her shoulders as she glances over toward the boys who had straggled behind. Izuku’s wandered on his own toward the back, but she sees Tenya and Shouto walking toward the communal resting cabin. “Is something wrong, Ochako?” Tsuyu asks, and she shakes the nerves and herself loose from her view.

“Maybe it’s the birthday curse,” she smiles sadly against the breeze, and Tsuyu frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s always something that brings down the mood, I think. I’m trying not to worry about it, but I can’t help it. Have you ever felt that way, Tsu?”

“Sure,” she nods and holds Ochako’s shoulder with her gloved hand, “but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? You don’t have to worry alone.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she takes her hand and squeezes the soft fabric of her gloves gently, lowering their hands but keeping hold. “Have you been following the news?”

“Not as much as Shouto, but it’s hard not to notice a pattern.”

“The fires and all that… it started down around Kobe, right? I can’t believe they haven’t caught them yet. I was hoping this would all be over and dealt with by the time of our trip, y’know?”

“All we can do is leave it to the pros,” Tsuyu takes in a slow breath and grins mildly on the exhale. “Soon, we’re going to be the pros handling it.”

“That’s true. And then we get to deal with complaints from the public like I’m doing now,” Ochako laughs, and they mock dramatic populace expectation to lighten the mood between them. They mimic their own qualms and project them onto their future hero identities, but they fall into the ongoing battle of praising one another’s future achievements. Tsuyu has the upperhand, and she pulls the it’s-your-birthday-let-me-spoil-you card, and all Ochako can do is laugh along in her forfeit.

She comes down from the surrender, tone teetering between hope and fear,  “Do you think we’ll get to work together?”

Tsuyu pauses and pushes her finger to her jaw, “We make a good team, Ochako. Even if we’re under different agencies, I could see us collaborating. But,” she looks down at their joined hands, “I don’t want us to follow each other just because we’re friends.”

“Then it’s a good thing our ambitions go together so well,” she swings their hands and giggles. “Besides, I’m just tossing ideas around. I’m still trying to piece together my plan after graduation. I mean, I have most of it figured out, but there’re a few things even I can’t account for.”

“Like what?”

Rather than offer an answer, she lets her breath fall from her nose and shakes her head. “I’ll tell you when I’ve figured it all out. Promise.”

“Then I’ll hold you to that,” she nods and feels the chill at her back, wind combating the heat in front of them. Ochako releases her hand and opens both arms wide with flare as she offers to serve as a wall protecting her from the cold, and Tsuyu chortles as she accepts her invitation with a trust-fall. As if on cue, they both lock eyes with Izuku making his way across the ferry, and he offers a friendly wave to them both and awkwardly circles back around with his hand scratching at the back of his thick hair.

He brings his attention to the water leaving the rutter and tries his best to mind his own business, whatever that is. Izuku knows he could have stayed with Shouto and Tenya, but he didn’t want to stick around for the possible lecture and cause the former to feel cornered. As for the girls, he knows not to interfere on someone else’s moment. The way they act, he’s surprised they haven’t admitted it to one another yet; then again, he’s sure their reasons may be similar to his own.

Don’t think about it.

Izuku reaches into his jacket’s pocket and retrieves his phone, and he stares at the lockscreen of his mother and All Might. Dragging his thumb back and forth as he debates unlocking it, he gives in and scrolls through his contacts while he still has decent signal, and he holds the phone to his ear to listen to the first crackle of dialed tone and whispers pleas for it to even out. Someone out there must have listened because he soon hears his mother’s voice on the other end.

“Izuku! Are you all right?”

“Yeah, we just boarded the ferry. I thought it was a good chance to call you since we’re all kind of doing our own thing right now,” he hears her exhale, presumably sitting back down as if the call had sparked her instinct to act before knowing anything. He can hardly blame her with all the chaos these past few years, so as he listens to her share her past couple of days, he grips the clothing over his chest and tries to untangle the knots with light shakes fanning out. Her voice, coated in kindness, makes him smile easier.

“You should have seen him, Izuku! He was just like you,” she chuckles as she tells him in further detail about their Christmas at the hospital. “He was so anxious on the way to your friend’s mother’s room.”

“I… can see that,” he laughs nervously, “but otherwise, was it okay?”

“Oh, everything was fine! Though when you get back, I’ll have to give you your sweater so the three of us can have our picture taken.”

“N-No, I wouldn’t want to bother All Might with something like that, Mom.”

“It was his idea,” she lilts, and it brings out his breath in a jolt.

“You’re kidding!”

“You should call and ask him yourself,” she encourages, and he laughs again with his uncertainty obvious as ever. She holds back on pushing it further and shifts the topic to their plans for the evening. Before they end the call, she tells him to text her when they reach land, then again when they arrive in Sapporo. He has to repeat his promise a few times to ease her worries, but she lets him go with a heartfelt I love you, and he smiles bashfully with his sleeved arm wiping his nose as he repeats the sentiment.

He hangs up and pockets the phone, just in time to feel the presence of Shouto or Tenya behind him. As he turns, ready to ask about the next few hours on the ferry, he only sees stranger passengers wandering by, tending to their own agendas. He shrugs and pushes his hands into his pockets and decides he’s given them enough time to tackle the conversation.

“Deku! Wanna get food with us?” Ochako and Tsuyu find him before he reaches the cabin, and he tags along with willful abandonment of his previous mission. They stray from the cabin, a wall away from where Tenya sits beside Shouto resting on the tatami floor, isolated off to a corner of the spacious room. Just before he closes his eyes for good, the older tightens his lip and shakes his shoulder awake.

“Hmm?” he grunts, eyes closed.

“I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity to talk to you about this, so let me get it out now,” he begins, and Shouto lifts his brow quizzically, urging him to continue. “What you did last night… leaving the car unattended without telling anyone, especially in a location that had been targeted by villain attacks, is unacceptable.”

As Tenya speaks in a stern, hushed voice, he opens his eyes and listens as the words paint possible dangers in the back of his mind. He swallows and reflects on the lack of responsibility, even if he’d been well aware when he decided to follow through. A risk, like any other.

“You know this already. I shouldn’t have to say it,” he continues, hand, palm-side up, flat in the air. “I don’t want to doubt you, Todoroki, but were you truly getting directions?”

“I was impulsive,” he accepts the scolding and holds his eye contact, “but you’re right. I didn’t think it would take me longer than a few minutes, so I figured it would be pointless to wake anyone up over something like that. Sorry.”

“As long as you understand,” he softens into a smile and shakes his head. “Please try to get some rest. Are you all right with me leaving you to it?”

“Yeah,” he turns onto his side to face the wall, back toward the others napping, “feels like home.” Tenya doesn’t stick around to make his confused amusement apparent and instead carries himself carefully toward the exit without interrupting anyone else’s rest. Shouto closes his eyes again with the faint creak from the mat below.

Just like home.

The next he wakes, he’s blockaded by four other bodies huddled around him, shaking off their shivers as quietly as they can. He rolls his head and notes the difficulty in shifting onto his back thanks to Tsuyu and Izuku nestled against it. Rubbing his right eye, he tilts his head up to see Tenya squeezing in the space between it and the wall, then finds Ochako nearer to his legs.

Shouto doesn’t try to budge once he’s identified everyone, but he questions their reasoning with a drowsy mumble. “By the time we were done eating, it started snowing outside,” Ochako answers, head resting against the backs of his knees.

“It was my idea, sorry,” Tsuyu ribbits from his backside, Izuku nearer his shoulder. He understands what they’re trying to do, so he nods and heightens the heat on his left just enough to permeate through his layer of clothes and the blanket. After a moment or two of them basking in the warmth of their own personal corner heater, he notices the weight pushing onto him more.

“If you guys want to nap, I can make more room you know,” he offers, and Ochako is the first to take him up on it when she releases his legs from her resting, and she grabs a vacant set of pillow and blanket nearby. The others follow suit in her scheme, and once Shouto’s pushed back from the wall a bit more, they take to occupying both his front and his back in a less organized pile around him.

Encased, he wishes Izuku hadn’t picked so close to his chest, even if he’s kept to the back. Thankfully he can blame the blushing on a multitude of proximities and temperatures, but he actively works to settle the pacing in his ribs.

He changes his mind.

This is far, far from home.

They consider themselves lucky when those with vehicles are allowed to leave the ferry before the other travelers, and Shouto surprisingly takes the front seat for the first time with the other three comfortable in the back after a nap. Tenya sets the route on his phone and gives it to his passenger to dictate directions. Shouto does himself a favor and adjusts the heater on low while he works to defrost it from the inside, but he gladly gives himself a break once the air comes out warm enough.

“I think I underestimated how cold it would be,” Ochako gazes out the window at the snow piled against the roadside, frosty flecks waltzing about the frigid air. Tsuyu leans toward the window and points to the sky where she swears the sun attempts to peek through a thick layer of clouds, but they all agree it’s a futile battle-- save for Ochako stammering on her own response with Tsuyu in such close vicinity.

“We don’t have to do the ice villa--”

“Oh, we’re doing the ice village, Todoroki,” she stops him with vigor, then pulls her hair over her shoulder. She backtracks on her tone and grins, “Just… y’know, much later.”

“Speaking of which, it looks like it’ll be about dinnertime when we arrive in Sapporo tonight,” Tenya chimes in to remind Ochako of their plan. “Have you thought about what you might want?”

“Before we got on the ferry, I had my heart set on sushi, but,” she trails off, fingers swinging in the air as if directing elsewhere, “now I just want soup. Maybe ramen?”

“How about soup curry?” Izuku suggests, and her eyes shoot stars before she nods excitedly. “Okay, so we have that figured out. How about dessert?”

“Maybe we could take something back to the room,” she ponders aloud, “because I don’t know about you guys, but hot chocolate and a movie sounds pretty good to me. Besides, I don’t wanna keep Todoroki out when he’s trying to fix his sleep schedule.”

“I appreciate that, but you don’t-- Iida, turn right on the ramp up here-- you don’t need to adjust your plans around it.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Tsuyu comments, “that way, we’ll feel more energized tomorrow.”

They spend the next while piecing together their newly modified schedule, deciding to end the day in Otaru, then pulling it in earlier so they can visit the aquarium. They can see how the slightly spontaneous itinerary unsettles Tenya, even as he tries his best to remain agreeable, so they compromise to plot it out further once they have time to concentrate better.

With business out of the way, Ochako initiates a game of shiritori that soon falls into a pattern of Tsuyu connecting rapidly and Shouto blanking on his turns. When he finally does conjure up a word, it is horrendously relevant to himself that it’s almost laughable how long it takes to think of it. He resigns by the fourth round and lets the others struggle to keep up with Tsuyu’s quick thinking, and she ultimately reigns champion with a reward of the last chocoroom.

“And with that, we are officially out of snacks,” Ochako crumples the bag and shoves it into their designated trash bag, “which is a shame because I was hoping we could do another game with a prize at the end.”

“Maybe the prize could be something else?” Izuku inquires, and she leans forward to raise her eyebrows in a cheeky grin.

“What, like a kiss?”

He nearly fries in distress, voice fluctuation slaughtering any sort of word that attempts to leave him, and she snickers as Tsuyu shoves her aside and chides her for flustering him like that. Ochako reaches across to pat him playfully in her apology.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” she brings her fingers back together, “besides, wouldn’t that be our first kiss?” The car goes still save for the playlist crooning in the background, and Ochako recalls a night of attempted crush-talk with her classmates that essentially resulted in the fact that none of them had time for romance with how demanding school could be. Not much changes over the years, even when she finds herself hopeful for it.

“No,” they turn their heads toward the front left seat, eyes on Shouto as his own occupy themselves with the window. Tenya seems to be the only one unsurprised, having connected the reasoning sooner than the others, but Tsuyu points it out first.

“I almost forgot about that,” she ribbits, “you and Momo.”

Izuku flickers down to his lap, concentration on the past two years until he recalls lunch periods without Shouto toward the end of their first year, and he wonders why he never thought to talk to him about it more. He can’t even remember if they were open or secret about it; his mind had been far too preoccupied with other things at the time, only catching the tail end in their second year.

Don’t think about it.

When he looks up again, Ochako is wincing at him in apology for having brought this up, and he tells her not to worry about it with a silent shake of his hand.

“We laugh about it now,” Shouto carries on nonchalantly, “but yeah.”

“I’m glad there were no hard feelings!” Ochako ebbs atop the comfortable surface without daring to dredge up old scars, if there were any to speak of.

“That was mostly the problem,” he confesses, “I don’t think they were even deep enough to get to us. I don’t really remember if there was a mourning period or whatever after we ended it.”

“I recall it being a bit awkward,” Tenya attempts to jog his memory, and his mismatched eyes venture upward to try and visualize the time in his brain, but no successful reel comes around in his mind’s screening. “But you’re right, it didn’t last long until you were both back to your usual behavior.”

“Leave it to the class rep to pay attention to things like that,” Shouto scoffs, nose slightly crinkled from the amusement, but he returns to his neutral expression. “Or ex-class rep.”

“The well-being of my classmates is my priority, regardless of my position,” he resists the urge to use his hands to convey the message, momentarily straightening his fingers.

“It’s okay Iida, you’ll always be class rep to me,” Ochako raises her fist in solidarity, and he chuckles. They shift the conversation elsewhere, Izuku eventually rejoining the flow of their chatting after his fleeting concerns. They gather at the back of his head where he shakes them loose with his nails scratching at his hair after a callback to his brief time as their class representative. He can’t remember if he even lasted a day in the position before the torch passed onto Tenya “Exit Sign” Iida.

He begrudgingly acknowledges the nickname, smile directed toward Ochako in the rearview mirror as she loses herself in the bubbly laughter.

When they near the final stretch of the drive, Shouto and Tenya have to concentrate on their directions in the dark of sunset’s departure. Brilliant lights fill the windows, busy but not bustling, and the three in the backseat gravitate toward their respective views to take in the new city and its decorations lining streetlights and trees. The hotel keeps them nearer downtown for convenience, and they consider the drive down the main street its own event.

“Wow, Uraraka,” Izuku beams upon seeing her exit the bathroom, sleeved dress complimenting her curves with the skater skirt gliding as she presents a twirl. “You look great!” With the leggings underneath, she doesn’t mind playing up the energy, and she courtesies at his compliments. Tsuyu is sorting through her own luggage when she catches sight of Ochako dazzling them with her charm, and she can feel her heartbeat catch itself in a gasp.

“I figured it would be fun to dress up,” she steps further into the hotel room, “and pretend that I’m fancier than I am!”

“That sounds fun,” says Tsuyu, smiling brightly, and the birthday girl bounces over to take a peek at her planned outfit.

“You should wear this,” she picks out one of Tsuyu’s cowl neck sweaters. “I always thought this kind of stuff suits you really well.”

Tsuyu Asui wonders if this is revenge for the other night because now she’s the one losing her speech function at Ochako’s praises. She accepts the suggestion without question and begins planning around it with a long necklace and skirt, and she steals rapid glances for Ochako’s color scheme to coordinate.

“Can I do your hair, Ochako?” she asks once she has it all together, and the other girl tugs her hair back.

“I’d love that! Can you do it up for me?”

“Anything you want,” she ribbits and claims the bathroom to ready herself. She closes the door, and Ochako finally takes her attention away from Tsuyu to gloss over the boys all staring off conspicuously as if blatantly diverting their gaze.

“We can stay behind if you’d l--” Tenya begins, and she darts after him to shush his mouth in case she can hear him.

“No way! I want my entire squad as my escorts! You should get dressed up, too!”

Both Shouto and Tenya accept her proposal, and they rummage through their belongings for something nice while Izuku pulls her to the side despite the fact that everyone would be able to hear him anyway. “I didn’t consider something like this when I was packing,” he admits, and she keeps her smile as she pats his arm.

“That’s okay! Just wear the most expensive thing in your bag or something!”

“Uraraka, the most expensive thing I brought is my All Might sweatshirt, and I don’t even wear that outside.”

She pauses, former determination still frozen on her face despite the lifeless aspect of it. “I see.”

“Do you need to borrow something?” Shouto shamelessly exposes himself eavesdropping with his back to them, and Izuku dreads the energy he feels coming from Ochako as she drums against his own back encouragingly.

“I’m not sure I can fit--”

“Oversized can be a fashion choice!” Ochako bats away his only excuse, and he caves.

“I’d appreciate it, yeah,” he joins Shouto’s side to see how he’s laid out a few articles on the bed, still folded. “What are you wearing?”

“I was going to ask for a second opinion,” he passes over the the different pieces, then brings his attention to Tenya confidently carrying his neatly folded shirt and blazer to wait at the bathroom, clearly more prepared than the rest of them. “You can pick first though.”

His eyes linger across the lighter tones, but he fixates on a seafoam knit cardigan, and he holds it up to Shouto to confirm his own assumptions about how the color would look on him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear this.”

“You can borrow that one.”

“Actually, I think you should wear it, Todoroki,” he practically pushes it into the other’s hands, “I think it’ll go with your scarf, too.” He goes back to the other options to distract himself from what he’s said until he decides on a charcoal sweater. Izuku fails to notice how Shouto stands frozen beside him with the cardigan limp in his hands because his attention immediately surrenders itself to the bathroom door opening and introducing the next best dressed person in the room.

“Holy shit,” he hears whispered so faintly that he may be the only one who’s caught it, but the voice grows louder the second time it speaks. “Tsu, look at you!”

Her posture causes her to hunch a bit in her standing, but she straightens out to stand taller and further display her comfortably appealing ensemble. Ochako gushes over the long lace skirt, congratulates herself on her personal selection, then the accessories, and lastly her hair pulled up into a thick bun, decorated with small, pearl-like accents. She pulls Tsuyu over to the vanity mirror to let them see each other together, and the girls lean their heads against one another as they take in their appearances with smiles.

It has nothing to do with being dolled up but everything to do with being so completely enchanted by the person she’s standing beside.

Tsuyu has her sit while she styles her hair back and concentrates on the details without going overboard. Something to draw attention and let everyone know she’s the star of the hour, but she wants to retain her natural charm. Ochako keeps her eyes closed to preserve a surprise, and Izuku is grateful for her distraction while he’s the last one waiting on the bathroom with Tenya having finished in record time after Tsuyu.

He can’t help but avert his eyes when Shouto opens the door and exceeds every last expectation he’d thought he had. From what he manages to see before his nerves take control, he’s parted his hair from the right to allow his white hairs to mingle farther over his red, and Izuku isn’t sure if contrasting colors ever blended so naturally before. He slips into the bathroom just in time to miss the way Shouto peeks back over his shoulder.

With the door closed, he buries his blush in the sweatshirt until he catches whiff of Shouto’s scent strong in its cloth, and he pulls it away from himself embarrassed. Izuku Midoriya observes his reflection in conflicted shame over his own hopes and hesitations, and he hates how his confidence wavers when he needs to rely on it most. Building up someone else’s esteem, completely doable. Applying the same treatment toward himself, far less feasible. He sets his clothes on the counter and sighs, already sick of the pessimism plastered over his face.

Not now, he tells himself. Don’t think about it.

He presses his palms into his cheeks and recomposes himself with renewed zeal, and he quickly changes into his evening attire working much better thanks to Shouto’s sweatshirt. The sleeves gather around his wrists, hem passing his hips, but he pulls it into place the best he can. His hands linger on his own arms, sliding up the smooth fabric, and he closes his eyes as he takes in another breath to try and settle down his heart.

Don’t think about it.

Izuku opens his eyes to see him hugging himself, and he takes another deep breath.

“Don’t think about it,” the shakiness abandons him in an evening lip, commanding a restructuring thought until he’s mentally shoving the box of uncertainties back into storage. Right now, he wants to enjoy his time with everyone, not trap himself in worrying about the past, or even the future. When he rejoins the others, Ochako is slack-jawed at her own reflection, Tsuyu having styled her hair up with accented braids and silver star clips.

“I love it!” she admires her hair from any angle she can spot, and she carefully pokes at the stars, “Especially these! They’re perfect.”

“You should keep them,” Tsuyu zips her bag of barrettes, hair ties, and other accessories, “they suit you much better.”

“I don’t think I’d know how to make them work like this without you,” she smiles with a hint of embarrassment, and Tsuyu smiles back.

“We’ll work on it.”

Izuku approaches Shouto and Tenya, the latter fumbling with a series of glasses cases to determine which is his most pristine pair. He opens one case in particular that he closes instantly with a mutter to himself about not intending to pack them, and Izuku decides to let his curiosity get the better of him.

“Are they broken?”

Tenya jolts from the sudden attention and shakes his head as he sets the case down with the others. “No, but they’re not like my other pairs, so I don’t wear them. They never looked right on me.” He smiles shyly, and Izuku gestures a request to see for himself; Tenya permits with a nod. He pops open the case, red frames striking against the black lining, and he carefully pulls them out.

“They’re cool,” he says, grinning, “you should try them!”

“You seem to be eager to give your fashion advice tonight, Midoriya,” he teases and accepts the red frames back, replacing his current pair to appease his friend’s recommendation. He expects that he will understand why Tenya had been reluctant once he sees, but the lights don’t leave Izuku’s eyes. If anything, they only seem to attract Ochako’s, as well.

“You have to wear them, Iida! They look so good!” she hops over to join them, Tsuyu tagging along with an accompanying nod.

“You,” he begins, “you don’t think they’re too flashy?”

“They suit you,” she uses her phone camera to serve as a mirror for him rather than having him walk over to the other side of the room, “see?” He takes in the sight of his face, grown since he’d received the pair initially. Tenya fixes a few dark hairs into place and gives into his friends’ suggestion by putting the rest of his glasses back neatly into his bag.

“Tensei had picked these out for me sometime after our internships, but I never wore them,” he discloses, tinge of regret slipping into his tone. Ochako hums as she thinks, and soon her hand is on his shoulder in a gentle grip.

“I wanted to take a picture with everyone tonight anyway, but you could send it to him! If you’re embarrassed to do that, just tell him I made you,” she shoots him a thumbs up, and he laughs.

“Fine, fine,” he trails over the others. “Well, are we ready?”

They conceal their clothes in their thick coats, playing off the idea of a show-stopping reveal when they take their seats inside the restaurant and hang their coats on their chairs. They try and dare Ochako to follow through, but she refuses and instead urges the others to serve as her entourage with Tsuyu linked on her arm, both for practicality and her own desire to stay close.

Dinner itself puts Ochako Uraraka at the head, and they toast their free water to her honor with a round of clinking glass that leaves her wanting to hide her face in her hands from the surging emotions. Love lingers in the air between them as they trade comments and titter over feigning a higher class, appreciation for the average aspects of it all washing away the remains of her birthday curse. The spice in her soup warms her right to her heart, and she carefully slips a finger under her eye to mind her makeup while keeping her emotions in check, and she blinks back to her friends with heartfelt gratitude, even when they tease her for being unable to handle the spice. She promptly corrects them and takes a large spoonful to prove her point, lips red with flavor and face unchanged.

By the end of the night, they battle her for the check and refuse to let her see it, splitting the payment amongst themselves and escorting her out the restaurant with their dessert to go. Ochako mulls over possible movies for the night and expresses a readiness to dress back down into comfier clothes, everyone else mostly ready to enjoy the room’s heater after being outside for more than a minute. Shouto speaks up to offer his arm, but someone’s shoulder bumps his in the foot traffic to silence his thought. He stops and shifts behind to steal a glimpse of whatever bothered passerby knocked him, but he fails to ascertain who it could have been in the crowd.

He shrugs it off and rejoins the others in their vocal admirations for the street’s illumination guiding them back to their hotel. Izuku takes a video to try and preserve the display, but no camera can capture it justly; he sends it off to All Might anyway in a text message and shoves his cold hands back into his pockets, fingers curled in anticipation of the vibration signaling his response.

It isn’t until midway through their movie that Toshinori Yagi sends him the view from his hospital window, city lights familiar and refreshingly peaceful. He says they look brighter than when he’d seen them years ago, and Izuku wonders if it’s the because the world’s dimmed darker after losing him. The comedy wraps up with Tenya taking everyone’s trash to the larger bin down the hall, and Ochako settles into bed between Izuku and Tsuyu with Shouto alone in the other bed with his stare on the blackened ceiling.

“Do you maybe want to use one of my pills?” Izuku offers discreetly, and he turns his head to decline. “If you change your mind, they’re in the bathroom by my stuff.”

“Thanks,” he almost returns to his staring contest with the ceiling, but his lips part to make way for something else, “and Midoriya?”

“Yeah, what is it?” he half-mumbles into his pillow, arms shifting under it to get more comfortable.

“Tomorrow, do you think we could--” he cuts himself short when the door opens, and Tenya whispers his apology for the noise when he carefully closes it behind him. He tip-toes back to the bed and unintentionally becomes the wall dividing the two, but Izuku doesn’t give up on hearing the rest.

“What about tomorrow, Todoroki?” he asks, and Tenya realizes that he must have walked into the middle of their conversation. He tries to bow out of the way, but Shouto’s jaw clenches to keep whatever he planned to say locked carefully inside his chest. He allows the ghost of it to slip loose and settles himself back. Izuku has no idea what it could be, but the aid mellows him out enough to be content with that. He closes his eyes as he resigns himself to the silence, but Shouto’s low voice brings him out of sleep’s beckoning call.

“If I remember it tomorrow, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay,” he accepts, and the three tell one another goodnight as Tenya shuts off the lamp.

[tenebrificwriting-blog]

RFA+Saeran and V with pick up lines (really long)

“I was reading bad pick up lines to my SO and thought of this little idea for the RFA crew (and the tag alongs).

Yoosung:

 “I must be dead cause right now I’m staring at heaven”

He’d been playing LOLOL when you’d broke out some crappy pickup line you’d read online. He hadn’t been paying full attention (it was raid night, but he can never ignore you entirely) so you kind of sat back and watched the “dots connect” so to speak. 

When the sweet summer child finally realized what the heck you’d just said, his whole body froze for a second. You got concered for a minute, wondering if your teasing had finallly broke him when he finally turned to face you (his raid group screaming could be heard throughout his apartment). His face was bright red and you couldn’t hold in the giggles as he just stuttered to you in a bit of shock. It took his brain a couple seconds to calm himself and respond with:

“If this is heaven y-you must be an angel”

He just put his head in his hands and groaned while you sat on the couch laughing.

Zen:

 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Cause you’re hot.”

Zen was supposed to be practicing his lines for a new play. He’d been lamenting over the fact it was Shakespear; all the fancy wording and heavy costumes weren’t exactly his favorite (”Babe you don’t understand, in those costumes no one can see my amazing body!”)

As per usual, you’d offered to help him with his script, but started getting kind of antsy during a particularly long monologue. It was true Zen’s acting was almost entrancing, and during preformances where’d you’d heard him practice the script a thousand different time, you still couldn’t tear your eyes away from the stage. 

But right now, he wasn’t acting. He was simply reading off the lines while pacing up and down the living room. He’d finished his speech and waited patiently for you to read off the next next one when you’d hit him with that horrific line.

The way he stopped pacing and kind of blinked at you for a moment made you wonder if he had been taking this much more seriously than you’d originally thought. You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the nervous laughter and apologizes when he suddenly grabbed your hand, placed a soft kiss on it and replied: 

“You must be a witch because you’ve placed a spell on me,”

You’d wanted to groan at the cheesy line, but the look in his eyes and way he’d lifted you up made any more words die in your throat.

Jumin:

“Dinner and mew-vie?” 

You and Jumin had been relaxing on the couch with Elizabeth lounging in your lap while you chatted with the rest of the RFA. The two of you were debating on what to do with your free day. It’d taken some convincing, but you’d managed to pull Jumin away from work and spend some quality time together. 

You’d mentioned in chat that two of you were still trying to figure out something to do (”Are you sure you don’t want to head to the cat cafe?” “Jumin we’ve been there three times this week please”) when Yoosung suggested a simple movie night. The chat then devolved to arguing over which movie the happy couple should go see. 

“Have you decided on anything yet, love?” Jumin asked you. The movie didn’t sound like a bad idea and you shrugged before replying suggesting a simple dinner/movie combo date.

As you spoke, Elizabeth jumped out of your lap and padded away, making you snort out the horrible pun and burst into a giggle fit at your own bad joke. In fact, you were giggling so much you almost didn’t hear Jumin reply with:

“I think that’s purrfect.”

Jaehee:

“Are you on the menu? Cause I like you a latte.”

Saturday nights were usually the night’s you and Jaehee sat in the apartment, testing new drinks Jaehee was attempting to perfect, watching one of Zen’s plays in the background and just cuddle on the couch. It was a weekly ritual you’d both upheld like it was law.

However, on this particular Saturday night, you both were running around like chicken’s with their heads cut off.

A massive, unexpected and unsual rush slammed the store right before closing. Of course, you guys wouldn’t turn away a great chance at publicity and you strapped yourselves in for the long haul. 

It wasn’t until 9 pm that the last customer’s trickled out and the two of you were sitting at one of the tables; your head resting on the table lamenting the fact you were going to have to wash melted chocolate out of your hair, and Jaehee mumbling about restocking everything a couple days early. You were brought back to the present as she walked past you and kissed your forehead softly, giving you a tired smile. “Do you want anything before we start cleaning up? Might as well have a pick me up before hand.” You returned the tired smile and looked at the menu, trying to think if anything sounded particuarly interesting. A giggle escaped your lips as you remembered the lame pick-up line Seven used on you the last time he’d visited the shop and gave Jaehee the most innocent smile before reciting it. 

Jaehee simply stared at you for a moment before shaking her head with a small smile and heading toward the back. But not before muttering “Excuse me a moment, things might get really steamy in here.”

Seven/Saeyoung:

“Are you a search engine? Cause you’re everything I’m looking for.”

You didn’t realize reading that crappy line would incite a whole war between you and Saeyoung. You’d only wanted to try and get his attention off of work for once, and now, here you were, in the middle of the worst (and lamest) battle you’d ever been in. 

Of course when you’d said it, Saeyoung didn’t even look up from his computer, but you did hear his typing pause for a second at the most. You thought you’d gotten him before he cooly responded: 

“Is your name wifi? Cause I feel a connection.”

And that’s when it truly began. Back and forth the two of you spouted off any and all pick up lines you knew. Lameness and cheesiness didn’t matter, all the mattered was being able to spout the next line faster than the other could.

“Are you a keyboard? Cause you’re my type.” “That one doesn’t even make sense!” “I like your last name, can I have it?” “Babe, we’re already married.”

“Are you a magician? Cause abraca-DAMN.” “Sae what the fuck that was so bad.”

“Can I follow you home? My mom always told me to follow my dreams.” “Oh okay stalker.”  It ended with the two of you laughing so hard, you ended up crying. Saeyoung was laughing and fell back into his chair, followed by a loud thud. You’d looked up and saw the hacker was laying on the ground, still in his seat. After rushing over to check that he was fine, all he responded with was:

“You better call life alert, cause I’ve fallen for you and can’t get up.” V: (his was really short because when I tried to expand it, it just felt forced)

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together.”

You’d said it while helping V set up for a photoshoot; mostly mumbling to yourself since you found the task to set up mind numbling boring. You’d been focusing on setting up one of the lights and stepped back to admire your handiwork. You beamed proudly at V when you noticed he had his hand over his mouth and was trying to keep his face turned away from you. 

Worried, you rushed over to ask him if he was feeling alright when you noticed he was trying to stifle his laughter. You stared at him confused for a moment before he calmed himself down and held up his camera and said:

“I can take that picture for you, since I’m a photographer.”

It took your brain a moment to process what he was talking about before you felt the blood rush to your face at your realization. You groaned and buried you face in his chest as he let out his laughter in full.

Saeran: 

“Was your dad a baker? Cause you’re sweet as hell.”

You gave Saeran an innocent smile as you heard Saeyoung burst out laughing the room over. You hadn’t thought Saeyoung could heard you from his work room, but the boy must have super human hearing. You’d wanted to try and see how he’d react to pick up lines for the longest time. But you could never find a good time to use one. 

For some reason, just chilling on the couch seemed as good a time as any. 

Saeran was still for a moment before reaching over and flicking you on the forehead. “You’re spending too much time with the idiot,” He mumbled, leaving you to whine and rub your head. 

However, you could see the lightest shade of pink flood his cheeks as you heard Saeyoung’s loud complaints.

[fifiweihao-blog]

30 Things To Avoid In Fashion Nova Locations | fashion nova locations

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Richard Saghian doesn’t do abounding interviews. Until now, he’s approved to abstain them, save for some accepted statements and buzz conversations with a few publications actuality and there.

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It’s partly because actuality interviewed acutely makes him uncomfortable. Saghian, who is Iranian-American with a adolescent face and a abounding arch of chiffon hair, doesn’t appetite a lot of attention. He dismisses the abstraction of a annual photograph to accompany this adventure and he has on a actual low-key, trend doubter outfit: a denim shirt beat apart over a T-shirt, jeans and a atramentous beefy watch with gold accents that looks expensive, but isn’t ostentatious.

Saghian additionally cast to allege in talking credibility and admirable capacity that aren’t consistently accessory to a free-flowing chat with a reporter. He says things like “overpriced appearance is dead” and “Fashion Nova is the fastest-growing women’s accoutrement company.” To advice adviser the interview, which took abode in a appointment allowance at Appearance Nova’s address appropriate alfresco of city Los Angeles, he referred to an Excel area of questions he’s accustomed from this announcer and added reporters over the accomplished few months, which were accompanying with actual prepared, accumulated answers.

But he additionally doesn’t charge press. He’s been able to anatomy and abound Appearance Nova, which has 10.7 actor followers on Instagram, absolute of the acceptable admiral that be. In 2017, according to Google, Appearance Nova was one of the best searched appearance brands alongside Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Supreme and Chanel. And the aggregation landed in the fourth-place aperture afterwards a aerodrome show, placements in magazines, acceptable business campaigns or, Saghian added, affected SEO tactics.

So why should he abide himself to an annual now?

“For recruitment,” he said in an borderline tone. “I apperceive best of the bodies who apprehend WWD allegedly don’t alike apperceive what Appearance Nova is.”

For the uninitiated, it would be accessible to alarm Appearance Nova as “an Instagram brand.” Saghian cast to alarm it a viral brand, but article about those descriptions accomplish the aggregation feel brief and illegitimate. Appearance Nova is a bona fide apparel, accessories and adorableness business that’s admiring women with anatomy abstracts that don’t consistently fit aural accepted allocation — although Saghian says the clothes are for everyone. Women like Belcalis Almanzar, additionally accepted as Cardi B, or Angela Renée White, additionally accepted as Blac Chyna, who accept annular hips, ample butts, spindlelike waists — and big Instagram followings. The clothes are tight, contemporary and affordable and by alive with celebrities, Saghian has fabricated them aspirational. By alive with a arrangement of added than 3,000 influencers, he’s fabricated them pervasive. It’s accessible to accept that Appearance Nova alone exists online, but it has bristles aliment aural malls beyond Southern California. Saghian said the aggregation grew by 600 percent in 2017 and is profitable, but he declines to acknowledge its revenue. But for context, Boohoo, addition fast-fashion banker that has 3.1 actor followers Instagram, had a acquirement of £294.64 actor in 2017, which translates to $411.43 million.

The Appearance Nova arch office, which is in an automatic neighborhood, is nondescript. It doesn’t accept that sterile, start-up burnish nor is it busy with disco assurance and bark furniture. It’s homey, with debris of Valentine’s Day and boxes of doughnuts, a Friday mainstay, broadcast about — chargeless aliment and the agent abatement are allegedly big allowances at Appearance Nova. The agents is assorted and growing, and Appearance Nova is changing. They aloof appear a new logo — it no best has the hot blush woman’s contour and the argument is cleaner and bolder.

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Attracting and application aptitude seems to be a top affair for Saghian, who said for abounding of his inferior employees, Appearance Nova is their aboriginal job out of college. He brings up poaching often, as if it’s a tactic acclimated by his competitors, addition appellation he uses often, to annihilate his company. One gets the faculty that Saghian never absurd the business would get this big and he wants to assure and breed his team, which he believes will be key to Appearance Nova’s connected success. There are currently about 20 job openings, which ambit from a denim client to a abstracts artisan to a administrator of accounting.

“I could stop it appropriate actuality and alive a acceptable life, but I appetite to abound the business,” said Saghian. “I’m the ceo, cmo and the cfo, so I’m aggravating to anatomy up this aggregation and I charge help.”

What he doesn’t seemed afraid about is alfresco investment. Appearance Nova is abreast endemic and he wants to accumulate it that way, for now at least.

“A lot of my competitors accept teams that assignment on a annual all day and are bedeviled with accumulation margins,” said Saghian. “I don’t appetite to focus on that appropriate now. I accept that as continued as we focus on giving the best artefact at the best amount and accepting it to our chump fast, we will abide to grow. Appropriate now the focus is accepting as abounding bodies assimilate the belvedere as possible.”

Saghian abstruse about alms amount to barter from his father, who endemic women’s retail stores. He spent his summers alive in them and knew he capital to do article similar, but in his own way. He opened the aboriginal Appearance Nova abundance in 2006 at the Panorama Mall in Panorama City, Calif. About 2013 he noticed web sites that awash the aforementioned artefact as his stores, but were affective added of it at college amount points. He began to accede an e-commerce site, but accepted he bare to acquisition a way to absolute bodies to it. Saghian absitively to advance Instagram and would column pictures of his acknowledged pieces on models. Abounding of his Appearance Nova abundance shoppers were already tagging pictures of themselves on Instagram cutting the clothes afore he started to assignment with them anon by giving them chargeless artefact in barter for promotion.

“I had 60,000 followers on Instagram afore I launched the site,” said Saghian. “I kept dabbling it because I don’t anticipate I believed it was activity to do this well.”

Saghian eventually went alive with fashionnova.com in 2013 and awash out of aggregate over the advance of a weekend. As Appearance Nova fabricated added money, Saghian was able to assignment with celebrities who he pays to abrasion and acquaint the cast on Instagram. Cardi B has ahead said Appearance Nova offers her $20,000 a ages to abrasion the characterization and column about it to her 19 actor followers, and Saghian has told New York Magazine’s The Cut that a column from Kylie Jenner, who started alive with the cast in 2016, can construe to $50,000 in sales.

Fashion Nova has congenital a afterward for its jeans, which retail for about $35 and are mostly fabricated in the U.S. from a amplitude denim that hugs the achievement and the waist, which isn’t consistently an accessible accomplishment for women with Coca-Cola canteen figures. These jeans accept angry some of his above endorsers into competitors. Khloé Kardashian, who acclimated to abrasion Appearance Nova jeans, appear agnate styles with Acceptable American denim, which retail for about $150, while La La Anthony additionally got into the business with an eponymous band of jeans that are priced about $90.

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“I anticipate it’s great,” said Saghian back asked about these lines. “The added options the chump has, the better.”

Saghian cast to say he’s angry fast appearance into ultra-fast fashion. Appearance Nova’s architecture and affairs aggregation works with added than 1,000 manufacturers on artefact — during the summer months, 80 percent of the clothes are produced in L.A. and during the colder months, 80 percent are fabricated overseas. According to Saghian, they are able to be faster than added companies because they accomplice with L.A.-based manufacturers, which agency they can accept samples fabricated aural 24 hours of creating the concept. Afterwards 48 hours the items are accessible to be attempt on models, who are in the appointment Monday through Friday to affectation in the 600 items Appearance Nova releases anniversary week. They again column the pieces, which accept easy-to-search names like the “Netflix and Chill Set,” as against to complicated appearance numbers, in the new arrivals section. Barter can assurance up to be notified back it’s in stock. The pieces, which are accessible one to two weeks afterwards conception, usually advertise out in a amount of canicule and sometimes hours and based on the achievement of the item, they restock it. Again it’s wash, rinse, repeat.

“It’s important to accept a lot of styles because our barter column so abundant online and charge new clothes. We don’t appetite girls assuming up to the club in the aforementioned outfit. We charge 50 altered denim jackets. Not aloof one,” said Saghian.

He’s additionally authoritative the clothes accessible to get. On top of them actuality so bargain — best of the array is beneath than $50 and there’s consistently a auction or abatement cipher to booty advantage of — accelerated accomplishment is important for Saghian. Appearance Nova, which ships globally, touts two-day aircraft on all calm orders and for shoppers who alive aural a 40-mile ambit of Los Angeles, if they adjustment by 1 p.m. they will accept it via Postmates on the aforementioned day. Appearance Nova takes acceptable methods of acquittal forth with PayPal and Amazon Pay, but while big brands are addition out mutually benign means to accomplice with Amazon, Saghian said he doesn’t advertise any artefact on the site.

“We don’t charge to assignment with Amazon. Our chump comes to our site,” said Saghian, who added that millions of visitors boutique Appearance Nova anniversary month. “And best girls don’t appetite to acquaint their accompany they bought a dress from Amazon.”

At the Burbank Town Center Mall, the Appearance Nova store, which is about 3,000 aboveboard feet, isn’t arresting — anticipate a lower-budget Rainbow — but that doesn’t assume to matter. It’s a Saturday afternoon and there’s a buy-one-get-one 50-percent-off auction happening. The abject from “No Limit,” G-Eazy’s song with Cardi B and A$AP Rocky, is beating through the shop. Girls are coursing through the racks with accompany or action babyish strollers through clusters of headless mannequins cutting body-con aggregate and there are tables accumulated aerial with angular jeans. The boutique has the activity of a pregame atom — the abode area bodies affair afore the affair — but bare the alcohol. A few boyfriends sit patiently at the advanced and one stands in the continued applicable allowance band with his adherent captivation her selections. The vibe is absolutely altered abutting aperture at Charlotte Russe — Lorde’s “Green Light” is arena in the accomplishments — and a little added bottomward at Forever 21 things are abundant added sedate and youthful.

Neither Appearance Nova’s business archetypal nor its artefact is that different — there are absolutely a few U.K.-based retailers such as Pretty Little Thing, Missguided and Boohoo that accomplish in the aforementioned space. But Saghian has acclaimed Appearance Nova from added players by speaking anon to an burghal demographic that’s not consistently prioritized by brands and retailers, but has a aural ability on amusing media. Booty Cardi B, for instance, who has memorialized Appearance Nova with her viral Instagram videos that appearance her bond the company’s clothes with Patek Philippe design watches or Balenciaga shoes. Saghian partnered with the Bronx built-in continued afore she was a active artisan and “Bodak Yellow” became a all-over anthem. But admitting these successes, Kollin Carter, Cardi B’s stylist, afresh told Cosmopolitan.com that alike now, abounding designers don’t accommodate her samples. “Certain names are assuredly advancing around, because they [are starting to] get [her brilliant power]. But we still accept a lot added designers [who] charge to become believers,” he said. “Fashion Nova will consistently be cool abutting to her. That was a cast that was lending to her afore anybody believed in her. They formed calm way afore [she hired] me. I consistently accept annual for her Appearance Nova moments, because it is a allotment of who she is.”

“We were accomplishing able-bodied afore Cardi, but she absolutely gave us some legitimacy,” said Saghian. “She is one of our admired ally because back she talks about Appearance Nova, she speaks from the heart.”

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This added angary has translated to added cartage in aliment — Saghian claims the shops accept become day-tripper destinations — but he has no admiration to accessible up a big blatant flagship on Melrose or anywhere abroad for that matter.

“I had a ambition of aperture 100 aliment beyond the U.S. back I aboriginal started the business, but the accomplishment it takes to barrage a abundance is far added harder than it is to access acquirement online,” said Saghian. “Why accessible up added aliment back I can accessible up to added countries?”

So instead of architecture out brick-and-mortar locations, he and his aggregation apply their activity on Instagram by announcement every 30 annual throughout the day and talking to his customers, who are usually 16 to 35 years old, in a accent that’s accustomed and familial. Saghian has acid in on the Millennial generation’s charge to be seen, heard and validated. He calls his barter #NovaBabes or #NovaStars and back they tag pictures of themselves cutting the artefact on Instagram, Appearance Nova cast and comments on anniversary column and sometimes reposts the angel on its account. Appearance Nova staffers assurance off on chump account inquiries on Instagram with “love” or double-heart emojis and chump account e-mails accept a “Love and Light” salutation.

But sometimes the zen articulation doesn’t work, decidedly back barter are agitated about not accepting their orders in a appropriate manner. Aftermost year, Appearance Nova, forth with added retailers including Rebecca Minkoff, Asos and Sephora, had issues with delayed aircraft afterward Atramentous Friday. What was already a three- to five-day turnaround on orders from the armpit angry into a 16 day turnaround. Saghian said the botheration has been anchored and a walk-through at the barn shows some new efficiencies, like an automatic barcode arrangement that can accomplish assorted orders at one time.

There accept additionally been complaints about assertive business practices. Saghian boasts the acknowledgment amount for Appearance Nova is beneath industry standard, but that could be because it’s easier for barter to accumulate commodity they don’t want. Appearance Nova doesn’t action banknote refunds, alone abundance credit, and shoppers charge pay a aircraft fee to accomplish exchanges, which can amount added than the aboriginal purchase. At one point Forever 21 had a no banknote acquittance policy, but the aggregation afflicted it aftermost year.

“Our girls like the acclaim system. It’s not an issue,” said Saghian dismissively.

The plan affective advanced is to about-face Appearance Nova into a one-stop boutique for his #NovaBabes. He launched Appearance Nova Curve, a plus-size assortment, aftermost year, and has big affairs for added categories. But Saghian understands that influencer business is changing. He says it’s asleep and the new algorithm on Instagram has fabricated it beneath impactful. But he again emphasizes that all of his barter are influencers and he’s assertive that the affiliation Appearance Nova has formed with its #NovaBabes and #NovaStars can transcend any belvedere or trending celebrity. This leads one to catechism the aberrant arch controlling administrator if Appearance Nova could accept anytime existed in this way afterwards Instagram.

“Absolutely,” he bound replied. “Social media is aloof allowance us abound faster. But if I didn’t accept Instagram, I would accept developed the business the ancient way: by chat of mouth.”

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[calwhitebark]

CultureFly Fallout 76 Loot Crate: A Review

I’m finally getting into more of a habit of churning out original content! A shout out of thanks to @the-wast-lander for encouraging me 😄

During a recent trip to the mountains, I popped into a Walmart to restock supplies before continuing my adventure. I’m one for always stopping by the electronics section when we I’m at a Target or Walmart to inspect their Funko Pop selection. Some stores have great turnover and I’m able to pick up or two Pops each trip. In other stores, they have the same Pops for months until there is a literal layer of dust on the boxes.

At this particular Walmart, I scored big time. Not only did they have their store exclusive Fallout 76 Power Armor Pop for $8.98 but they had this CultureFly Loot Box for $20. I bought both and didn’t open the box until I got home out of concern something would get lost in the truck and I wouldn’t notice.

The box itself has the same marching trio of Vault Boys you see on a lot of F76 promotional stuff. Box is very sturdy and doesn’t crush easy so if you are considering this as a gift for someone who is not living nearby, shipping it should be safe.

I got a coupon for another box but I looked online and I wasn’t impressed with their other licenses. I LOVE Supernatural but what CultureFly is offering is the exact same stuff you can buy at Hot Topic, they just packed it in a box for you. As you can see, they did pack the F76 box full of goodies that are bit harder to find.

First out of the box: Nuka-Cola socks! One size does easily fit all. I’m a size 11 and these fit like a charm. I had to run them through the wash a couple of times because the starch, even after I washed them the first time, was burning my ankles. Just an FYI kids, wash before you wear.

While I’m kicking back in my Nuka-Cola socks, I’ll sip some tea in this crisp Fall weather from my Nuka-Cola mug! The designs on both sides have held up well to hand washing so far (I don’t have a dishwasher but I would play it safe and avoid using it on this).

I was convinced when I read there was a “sign” in the box that it would be cheap, flimsy plastic, no thicker than a junk mail card you get in the mail telling you to replace your windows for the third time this week. Turns out, they attached a lenticular card to an actual piece of wood. Color me impressed! I fell in love with this sign in the game and am still bummed they don’t sell it in the Atom Store for installing in your C.A.M.P. Now you can hang this on the wall by your bed and have your life as a F76 player turn very meta.

The second time I was proven wrong was with this pin. I was expecting to be disappointed by a thin and poorly painted thing that they mass produced and didn’t give much consideration. Turns out, it’s heavy quality metal and well-painted with enamel colors. I’m tucking this away until I get some other Fallout pins and then I’ll put them all in a shadow box.

A Vinyl Vault Boy Figure! He’s not very heavy and only about 7 inches tall but he looks great on the shelf with my Vault Boy Funko Pops. Speaking of Funko Pops...

Hey! Turns out Tumblr has a limit on how many pics to put in a post and I just hit the wall. But that’s alright because this my last one. Let me be clear, this guy was not part of the loot box, I bought him separately but at the same Walmart I bought the crate, pure freaking luck on my part. I have several Power Armor Pops from different stores as Best Buy and GameStop got in on the exclusive action along with Walmart. Each one is different and well detailed but they are making them smaller now than they did with the original Fallout set. I can see the difference in height easily.

In conclusion, money well spent if you are a fan of novelty merch. I know there is a debate in the fandom regarding the necessity of novelty merch for a game series that basically points out the non-essential aspects of consumerism (Toys and other things being broken down into crafting components for true essentials of life) and rightly so. But I got a kick out of digging into this box and maybe some of you or someone you know will feel the same this Christmas. See you in The Wasteland.

- Cal Whitebark

[feynites]

I was gonna wait to post this until after I’d done more stuff with Tiny Uthvir, but that’s taking a while so in the meantime - here’s Raised-by-Marassal Dirthamen’s first meeting with Selene. (Or my take on it, anyway, feel free to disregard.)

When he is twenty-one, Dirthamen and his Papae take a year off to go travelling around Thedas.

It seems to Dirthamen like his Papae is looking for something, although he doesn’t actually say as much. But Marassal is a Desire Abomination, and is prone to strange preoccupations and spontaneity. And Dirthamen thinks that if someone lives for a very long time, then they probably have moments where they find themselves searching for the meaning of life, or similar such ineffable things. It’s a nice trip, anyway. A lovely vacation to lots of interesting places, mostly off the beaten path, and Dirthamen collects a lot of specimens and takes a lot of photographs, and feels wholly rejuvenated even if he still hasn’t decided what he wants to do with his life.

His Papae is very supportive on that front, though he seems less overall pleased with the end results of their vacation.

“It will all come together, somehow. We just have to figure out how…” he says.

Dirthamen nods, and after a few nights of contemplation, decides that he will go with his gut and accept his father’s offer of a start-up loan, and follow his dream of owning his own book shop.

It’s not exactly a simple matter. Online sales are more popular for books, but Dirthamen understands computers fairly well, and sets up his own little shop. Eventually he finds a network of used book sellers to join in with, and makes a deal with one of the local thrift shops and some community charities. It takes about three years for him to start actually making a profit, but slowly, bit by bit, his shop gains a reputation and he finds some very good suppliers, and online business booms as foot traffic increases. Diversifying his stock with some magic-oriented items requires a lot of licensing, and he has to pass half a dozen government mandated tests and put his name on several registries. His life seems to work better when he can managed to keep to a schedule, but it always seems far too easy to distract him or knock him off course. He has to re-take three tests because he misses them, but he manages.

He’s twenty-six, and his shop has been in business for four years, when he wakes up one morning to find that someone has thrown a brick through the window.

He has no idea what prompted it, but stores owned by mages and stores owned by elves often seem to incur this sort of reaction. Dirthamen patches up the window, and checks and is relieved to find that none of the books were damaged, at least. He files a police report, but he gets the impression that he’s not doing it right, and his father comes and fusses and calls the people responsible wretches.

It could have been an accident, though. Just the same, Dirthamen reinforces his windows with some spells to deflect blows, and saves up to get a security camera. Some of his books are quite valuable, although nearly all of the ones which are would be difficult to actually sell – unique volumes and old texts are distinctive, and easier to track than a lot of other things.

But the broken window seems to let in a rush of objections that he doesn’t really know what to make of. There are people on online forums calling his store a ‘blight on the community’. They seem to find his stock inappropriate, and his location next to an erotic bookstore somehow damning to both of them by sheer proxy. They are both very far away from the nearest school district, but Dirthamen supposes that it is true that they are also technically ‘just a bus ride away from impressionable children’. He does not suffer any more broken windows, but one of the local chapters of the chantry puts a ban on his store, and there are several attempts at defacing the front with graffiti. His security camera catches several individuals, but the police tell him not to get his hopes up, and that it ‘could be anyone’ in the footage.

There is another incident, wherein a woman decides to read several select verses from the Chant of Light while walking outside of his door. His neighbour, Zevran, who owns the erotic book shop, comes out and starts countering her with passages from Three Nights in a Chantry, which is not necessarily fit for public readings, but he does not get very far before the woman leaves.

Eventually, the furor starts to die down. Not entirely, Dirthamen doesn’t think, but he figures out how to charm his windows so that they will not let paint stick to them, which limits vandals to the side wall and back alley, and those are harder to see from the street. At Zevran’s advice, he goes to a local animal shelter to obtain a ‘shop cat’, which can ‘stare creepily off at invisible things and make certain people too uncomfortable to enter the store, at least, if they are a suspicious sort’. Dirthamen ends up coming home with a rescued pet crow instead, a bird with clipped wings and a lot of intelligence, despite her tendency to tilt her head at odd angles due to slight brain damage from an injury.

“Even better!” Zevran declares, delighted.

He starts coming over on his lunch break to feed Blackbird tiny chunks of meat.

Dirthamen is twenty-seven when the bell for his shop door rings. It is late, technically closing time, but he had forgotten to flip the sign again. He is restocking some of the shelves on the second floor, and glances down over the balcony to see who has come in.

It is a woman.

Elven, and tall. Fair-haired and long-legged, with very sharp, striking features, that he can detect even with his odd angle on her. She is dressed in a long coat and faded jeans. Her hair is pulled mostly into a messy ponytail. She looks around the shop, and something about it makes Dirthamen think of dreams, for a moment. Glassy instances that linger between perceptions, and slow time down to make all the details more noticeable. There is ink on the woman’s fingers, and on one corner of her jaw. There is something about her countenance that makes Dirthamen think of mages, and of oddities, and of long nights with lots of books and studying and shutters drawn against the sunlight.

He freezes, and feels inexplicably like he should go and get his camera.

But he doesn’t have permission to take this woman’s photograph. She’s a customer, and this is his shop, and he’s learned that’s rude. With some trial and error. The woman walks over to Blackbird, and looks faintly concerned.

“Just a moment, please!” Dirthamen calls out, and makes his way down the light staircase.

The woman freezes to the spot.

“Ah, good evening!” Dirthamen says, as he comes up behind her. “My apologies, the shop is technically closed, but I forgot to flip the sign. It’s no matter, though, I’m restocking so you can feel free to browse for a few minutes. Unless you came by to find something in specific.  I should probably go and flip the sign, though, before I forget again. One time I left it open until eleven o’clock – at night – and one of my customers became convinced that I was open late and seemed very upset to find out that it was not my regular schedule. I wouldn’t be able to afford it, though, not that many people like to buy books after seven pm, even though most readers seem to be night owl types. I tried it for a few weeks but it was just very tiring, and the few people who came mostly ended up ordering online anyway. Oh! That reminds me, we do have an online store, and you are welcome to browse our selection there. You can have books shipped right to your address, or place orders of in-store pick up. But like I said, you can also browse right now, at least until I have to go home. But were you looking for something in specific? Because if you weren’t I can make some recommendations, if you tell me your interests. We have textbooks, too, with student discounts. Most of them are used but we try to keep a wide selection. And some of them are very interesting even if you’re not a student, although I still recommend leaving the actual textbooks for the students to buy and purchasing similar books on the same subject, I can usually find something that is more specific anyway.”

The woman doesn’t turn around while Dirthamen is speaking. Instead she seems to be staring very rigidly at Blackbird. He wonders if he’s gone too fast, and decides to just head over and flip the shop sign, and give her a moment. Perhaps she is nervous of birds? Well, it’s about time to settle Blackbird in for the night anyway, so Dirthamen goes and fetches her sleeping cage from behind the counter, and then heads over with it.

When the woman finally turns to look at him, her gaze fixes on his face. Dirthamen actually makes eye-contact, for a moment, before sliding his own gaze back over to Blackbird. He can feel the customer looking at him, though, watching intently as he gets the shop bird into her cage. Blackbird flaps a little, but she knows she will get treats before bed if she behaves, and so she does. He feeds her one of her favourite snacks, carrying her back to the register and letting her munch, before he pulls the tarp fully over the cage and makes it ‘night time’ for her. Then he settles the cage into its usual spot, feeling eyes on him all the while.

He looks up again, at the sound of footsteps.

The woman walks towards him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, now. Sometimes he gets customers who aren’t in a good way. Too much lyrium, or too many drugs, or recent trauma. Sometimes all three. He glances at the woman’s arms, but he doesn’t see any needle marks or scars. Her nails are purple, he notes. A very particular purple, which gives him pause, as he glances back up at her, and reconsiders.

Is she an abomination? Like Papae?

It’s probably not a good idea to just ask that, he knows, some secrets are trickier than others.

But if she is, and she’s having troubles, then that won’t do. She comes to a halt a few steps away, and her expression wavers. One of her hands comes up to her mouth.

“It’s alright,” Dirthamen finds himself saying, though he’s not sure what he’s promising. Still, he thinks, it can be. Things can be alright, as long as there’s someone to help. As long as you know the right steps to take, and what better place to figure such things out than a book store? “Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, we can start sorting things out? If you don’t like the shop, there’s a little café just across the street…”

The woman swallows.

“There is?” she says.

It’s the first sound she’s made since she came in. But it instantly makes Dirthamen feel a little more at ease. That’s a good voice, he thinks. Not high and false, or snide, or defensive. It seems a bit like it’s been punched out of the poor woman, though. He can almost hear his father tutting in his head, and he thinks that if he was here, he would be reaching out to pat his customer’s hand and tell her that what she needs is probably a nice sit down to just breathe for a few moments. Life can be overwhelming, but that’s usually just because it’s full of so many possibilities. Things to see, and do, and learn, and want.

Dirthamen is not as good at helping, but he can try.

He offers the woman a smile.

“Just let me lock up,” he suggests. “And I’ll buy you a coffee, and we can talk about whatever it is you’re looking for.”

She lets out a shaky breath, like something between laughing and gasping and crying. Her eyes are starting to shine.

“Are you real?” she asks him.

Dirthamen’s brow furrows. Oh, so she’s having those sorts of problems.

“Yes,” he assures her. “I’m very real. So is the crow you saw, and so are the books, and so is this shop. Do you know what street you’re on, and how you got here?”

The woman clears her throat.

“Yes,” she says. “I drove here, we’re on Archway, just near to Queen’s Street and next to an erotic book store.”

Dirthamen smiles.

“Exactly,” he confirms. He’s already closed out the till, so he just sets about checking all of his locks. He can finish restocking in the morning, he thinks.

“I’m sorry,” the woman says, after a moment. “I’m sorry, that was… I must seem very strange, right now.”

Dirthamen offers her another smile, relieved that she seems to be able to speak, now.

“Strangeness doesn’t offend me,” he assures her. “But it can be a little worrying. May I buy you a tea or a coffee, or something to eat?” He doesn’t think he would feel right about letting her drive off without making sure she’s consistently lucid.

“Yes!” the woman blurts, all in a rush, now. “Yes you can, you absolutely can, I would like that very much!”

Dirthamen blinks.

The woman slowly tilts her head back, and sucks in a long breath, and closes her eyes for a moment. Then she exhales.

“Sorry,” she says. “I mean… if it’s not too much trouble…”

“It’s not,” he assures her.

After all, this is by far the most interesting customer he’s had in a long while.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Sacrifices Must Be Made - Chapter Five

You can also read it on AO3, here.

Stiles laid on his bed, curled up and unmoving as he stared into oblivion.

Allison had called Scott and had him pick Stiles up after his shit at the veterinary clinic. Scott had brought him home and made sure he ate something before Stiles hid away in his room.

There was a soft knock at the door and a quiet rattle as Scott peered into his room.

“Are you awake?” Scott whispered.

Stiles nodded.

“Can I come in?” Scott asked, keeping his voice quiet.

Stiles nodded again.

His friend crept into the room, shutting the door behind himself before climbing onto the bed and laying down beside Stiles. He looked at Stiles with his dark chocolate eyes that were so full of pain and worry.

“Allison told me what happened,” Scott said softly. “Are you okay?”

Stiles shook his head.

“I love him,” Stiles confessed. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten swept away. After all, what chance does a guy like me have with a guy like him?”

“He’d be lucky to have a guy like you,” Scott replied. “Anyone would be.”

Stiles tried to smile gratefully but it failed him.

His phone chimed with the notification of a new message, one of many Stiles had been ignoring.

Stiles picked it up, unlocked the screen and read the message.

           Derek           You left without saying goodbye.

            Derek           Is this about what was on the news?

            Derek           Please, Stiles, I can explain.

            Derek           Please don’t shut me out.

            Derek           Stiles, I’m starting to worry. You haven’t replied to any of my           messages. Are you okay?

            Derek           Stiles?

            Derek           Stiles, please talk to me.

            Derek           I’m sorry.

 “Ignoring him?” Scott asked as Stiles turned off his phone and tossed it into the pile of clean washing he was yet to put away.

Stiles nodded.

“It’s Lydia all over again,” Stiles mumbled. “I’m standing at the end of the hallway, watching as they fall in love with someone else.”

Scot didn’t know what to say. How could he? He had fallen in love with Allison from day one and they had been together ever since: no drama, no breakups, nothing.

“Can you please not look at me like that?” Stiles requested.

“Like what?” Scott asked.

“Like I’m a puppy in pain,” Stiles mumbled.

Scott sighed and bowed his head.

“I get it,” Stiles muttered. “You’re worried about me, but I’ll be fine. I always am.”

Scott gently patted his friend’s shoulder.

“Come have some dinner,” Scott encouraged. “I ordered pizza. Also, Allison’s here and she brought cookies.”

Stiles smiled. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?” Scott asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

Stiles smirked. “It might me.”

Scott raised his brow quizzically and Stiles caved.

“Alright, yes,” Stiles admitted sitting up and making his way towards the bedroom door. “It’s working. I want cookies.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Stiles went about his day as usual, waking, dressing and going to work.

He had made sure that Scott woke him in the morning so he didn’t have to turn his phone on again.

He went about his routine work, restocking shelves, facing up so the store looked nice, writing down notes of diminishing stock that needed to be reordered, processing individual orders by pulling the books down and setting them in the office to be boxed and mailed, and setting up displays for new releases, charity events and themed displays.

“Are you still going to the march?” Allison asked, focusing her attention of processing the online orders.

She was referring to the gay rights march that had been planned for tomorrow. It was still going forth despite the interruptions of the plans by the announcement of the engagement and the celebratory parade for Derek and Kate.

“Maybe,” Stiles muttered. “I don’t know.”

“I think you should,” Allison said softly. “It’s more relevant now than ever before, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Stiles replied.

“Scott and I are still going,” Allison told him.

Stiles had found out many years ago that Allison was also bisexual, although she never talked about her experiences with women and she was devoted to Scott.

Scott wasn’t on the spectrum, but he was a supporter and would always show up at the rallies with Allison and Stiles. Sometimes, when they were met with resistance from homophobic and transphobic assholes, Scott could pretend to be Stiles’ boyfriend, just to piss them off. It always made Stiles and Allison smile and their hearts fill with love and pride for the man when he did, it made them feel loved and accepted.

“You don’t have to protest,” Allison continued. “But maybe you can come and just be present.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

He was in the middle of setting up a display of streamers, hearts and cupids that were set around a collection of LGBT+ fiction and romance novels – no trashy Mills and Boon novels though - for February, the ‘month of love’, when the bell over the door chimed and a man entered.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder, taking in the sight of the man dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a fitted dull grey Henley.

He sighed and looked away, focusing his attention on building the display.

“Stiles, please, we need to talk,” Derek called, keeping his voice low.

“About what?” Stiles asked as he rose to his feet and began to put the left over pile of books back on the shelves. “About your engagement to Lady Katherine or about how you used me?”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“So you admit you used me?”

“No,” Derek yelped. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. “I came here to apologise. I never meant for you to get caught up in this and I never wanted to hurt you.”

Stiles ignored him, swiftly moving through the shelves as he placed the books where they belonged.

Derek followed him.

“I didn’t know,” Derek explained. “My mum set up it all up at the gala and she didn’t tell me until yesterday morning. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You did have a choice, Derek,” Stiles snapped, turning on his heels and glaring at the man. “You had a choice to tell the truth and you didn’t. You had the choice to tell your mother how you felt and you didn’t.”

“Stiles-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Derek. Okay? I’m not Cinderella. I’m not some labouring middleclass man scrubbing floors and eating scraps. I don’t need a Prince Charming to come and sweep me off my feet.”

“I love you,” Derek blurted out.

“No, you don’t,” Stiles replied. “If you did love me, you would have fought for me.”

Stiles shoved past Derek and stormed back into the office, ignoring Derek as he called after the boy. He shut the door behind him and slumped back against it, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs as warm tears trailed down his cheeks.

After a minute or two he heard the bell above the door chime and s quiet knock at the door.

Stiles opened it enough to let Allison into the office.

She looked at Stiles with glistening eyes full of pain.

“Why does love hurt so much?” Stiles asked, fighting back more tears.

Allison shrugged slightly, lost for words. She reached forward and welcomed Stiles into her arms.

He fell into her warmth, weakly grabbing at fistfuls of her jacket. His body shuddered as he cried, tears seeping into the fabric of Allison’s shirt as he buried his face in her shoulder.

“It’ll be okay,” Allison whispered. “I promise, it’ll all be okay.” 

[teesturtle]

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