#sorry it's so blue I took the picture on the bus before the sun had risen

[willowcrowned]

Peter Jackson failed to adapt THIS

[momochizoey]

I posted 878 times in 2022

That's 678 more posts than 2021!

63 posts created (7%)

815 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@visdiefje

@appsa

@dreamofnightsandfireflies

@likeadragonfruit

@madelyn-mads74

I tagged 350 of my posts in 2022

#goncharov - 55 posts

#zoey wrestles with writing - 16 posts

#ask game - 14 posts

#azula - 10 posts

#thanks for the ask! - 10 posts

#zoey rambles in the tags - 10 posts

#atla - 9 posts

#likeadragonfruit - 8 posts

#victoria chase - 6 posts

#life is strange - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#anytime im on the bus or train with headphones in i try to embody the feelings i got from seeing max look out the window listening to music

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

An excerpt of the multi chapter Chasefield fic I'm currently working on:

“OMG, V, don’t be obvious, but look at the hippie. She totally spaced out and broke that dumb camera of hers.”

Victoria rolled her eyes at Taylor. As if she was ever obvious about spying unless she wanted to be. What is she, an amateur? Still, she leaned back in her seat, changing the angle she was sitting at as if she was getting more comfortable listening to Mr Jefferson. She kept her gaze on him attentively for a few seconds longer (not like that was much of a chore) before she flicked her eyes to the side.

Taylor was right: Max’s camera looked busted, loose parts gathered here and there on the table, and she was visibly stressing out trying to put it back together.

Victoria almost laughed and whispered a snide remark towards Max, when suddenly the words caught in her throat.

A cloud had parted outside as Max was bent over her camera, her knuckles pressed against the side of her head. The hair falling in front of her face was lit up with a golden glow in the rays of the sun, and the soft shadow and light playfully danced across her frowning face.

Before she could think about what she was doing, she reached down to her bag. She took out her camera, aimed it at the vision before her, and with no extra thought, no perfecting the settings, no changing the depth of field, she shot.

The click of her camera snapped her out of it. Hurriedly, she tried to hide her camera again, hoping nobody saw-

“Victoria. I know this is a photography class, and I understand the urge to capture an image can feel overwhelming. But please, pay attention. I don’t get paid to talk at you, I’m here to teach you, and I can’t do that if you aren’t listening when I speak.”

She flinched at Mr Jefferson's reprimand, blushing as she noticed the rest of the class was staring at her. 

She scrambled for a convincing cover story. "I'm so sorry Mr Jefferson, I just bumped into my camera bag, and I thought I saw a scratch on the lense and wanted to see if it showed up on a picture. I was paying attention though, you were talking about chiaroscuro? That's like, the interplay between light and dark, right? Like Diane Arbus?"

He sighed. "That's correct Victoria. But please, next time, wait until after class?"

She nodded, and, ignoring her friends' inquisitive looks, she sank into her seat with her arms crossed in front of her.

What the hell was that? Why did Max-fucking-Selfield cause her to completely lose her mind? She was in the middle of class! And not just any other boring class, but Mark Jefferson's class! 

And then that picture! It was like she completely forgot everything her parents had taught her about the exact art of photography! It was entirely unprofessional, the environment was completely uncontrolled, the lighting wasn't coming from a precisely calculated angle, her model (whose identity she refused to think about for the moment) wasn't posed to her exact directions to evoke the specific emotions she had determined in advance. Frankly, she was almost convinced she must've damaged her camera by forcing it to take such a terrible photo. 

She shot the cause of this… lapse of judgement, a look of disdain, only to startle at the intense stare the normally timid hipster had aimed her way. 

Something behind those blue, usually doe-like eyes, had turned its attention to Victoria, and she could almost see the cogs turning in her skull. 

For a second, she wondered if this is how prey felt.

Then Max blinked, and the feeling disappeared.

I've been working on this fic for weeks now, and I'm currently about 7k words in? But while I want to have more chapters ready before I actually start publishing it, I got too impatient and had to share this first scene with you all here! Consider it a teaser! Anyway, I hope you like it! Life Is Strange, and especially Maximum Victory/Chasefield has (once again) taken over my heart, and I'm so excited for the moment I can share the full and completed story with you. Which is definitely coming, I'm in a pretty good writing groove and I know where I'm going, so look forward to it!

20 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

#4

Azula Week 2022 Day 4 - Discovery

Decades had passed since the end of the war. Time may have healed most wounds, some better than others. But discovering impossible ghosts on your doorstep can reopen old wounds.

'He shuffled his feet for a moment and cleared his throat. “Is- is this the residence of Grandmaster Katara?”

“That’s me, yes. What can I do for you?”

“My name is Baatar. I believe you knew my father, Sokka?”'

For Azulaweek, thank you so much for hosting @azulaweek

26 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

#3

I know the clock symbolism has been talked to death already, but what I haven't seen anyone mention is Katya's watch!

In the boat scene, Katya's escape plan hinges entirely on the perfect timing: Sofia's stumble, Andrey's distraction, the cigarette, all of it. And she makes it! Her timing is perfect to the millisecond, which she could because of her very expensive Swiss watch, the one she asked Goncharov for for their anniversary.

Just one problem: her watch was actually ahead by 12 seconds.

She was extremely lucky that the timing actually called for a slight delay, but there was no way she could've known that, or even that her watch watch was delayed. The only reason we know, is that if you pay attention you notice the clock tower rings 12 seconds after her watch said it should have. And yes, you could argue that that was a delay on the clocktower's part, or perhaps even a mistake of the film crew, but if there's one thing we know about Martin Scorsese it's that nothing in this movie has been unintentional.

And my heart just aches for Katya because it's the foreshadowing of it all. She did everything right, acting correctly with the information she had, and it was pure luck, fate almost, that it worked out this time. But in the final scenes (when she's noticeably wearing a different watch, the Italian one given to her by Sofia, that does run perfectly on time), her betrayal of both Goncharov and Sofia is also the only correct course of action she could have taken given the information she had, only this time it doesn't work out. It's the perfection that leads to her downfall: by attempting to control her fate she actually ensured that fate couldn't give her the help she needed. By trying to shackle time, she actually bound herself to it, mercilessly dragged into the gearbox until she's ground down by the clockwork of time.

And that's not even mentioning the red-stained strap of the new watch! It's suggested to symbolise her determination, willpower and leadership at first (making excellent use of colour theory), but it actually has its meaning flipped on its head, because Scorsese actually uses the much rarer negative connotations of red, symbolising danger, violence and anger, again foreshadowing her path.

39 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#2

A Scene from Getting Family Approval

I've been struggling with chapter 3 of Getting Family Approval (the combined Ursa/Iroh chapter) for months now, but I really wanted to write Something for the Ozai chapter which is set after that one and the Hakoda one, so I wrote this. Not sure yet if this will be part of the actual chapter when I get to it, or if it's just a different POV of what's happening there, but I hope you enjoy!

Ozai took a deep breath as he was led into the prison’s garden by his guards, enjoying the smell of the fresh air and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He might not have his inner flame anymore, but sometimes, in the heat of the sun, he could pretend.

Of course, unlike his old cell, this one had a window, so he wasn’t completely cut off from the sunlight, but it couldn’t compare to the direct feeling of the rays of Agni during his rare visit to the garden.

Watching my words when I speak to my daughter is a small price to pay to enjoy this, he thought.

Speaking of Azula, he wondered what the occasion was. Usually she came by once every six months, but it had barely been four months since her last visit.

There’d always be a low table set up in the garden, where they’d share tea and even some fried mochi with togarashi seasoning. He’d never admit it, but he appreciated the fact that she remembered his favourite snack, and that she actually made sure to get him some even if it was only twice a year.

He’d asked her once, why she did all this. The nicer cell, the visits, the books (carefully selected and approved, but still). He knew he would not have done the same in her position.

“You’re a terrible person, dad,” she’d answered, looking him in the eye with a quiet intensity. “You used me and Zuko, you were a tyrant and you happily continued waging a war on the world we never should have fought in the first place, and I will never forgive you for it.” She’d sighed, then. “But you are still my father, and that means something to me, even if it doesn’t to you.”

They hadn’t spoken more during that visit after that, finishing their tea in silence. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Now, as he reached the table, he noted with surprise that his daughter wasn’t alone this time.

Seated next to her was a Water Tribesman. If he remembered correctly, it was the same boy who'd insulted him after his defeat, the one who’d masterminded the invasion during the eclipse.

Ozai couldn’t think of a single reason the boy could have to visit him. Probably not a social visit then. He sat down at the table, back straight, and greeted his daughter with a nod. “Good afternoon, Azula. This is a surprise. Zuko hasn’t changed the calendar, has he?”

Azula snorted, and the Water Tribesman coughed to hide a laugh, looking at Azula in disbelief as if he couldn’t believe Ozai was capable of making a joke.

“No dad, we’re here with a reason, actually.” Interesting, the use of ‘we’ meant the two had planned this together. As he took a sip of his tea he puzzled over what the two of them could have been doing that involved him of all people.

“Let me start with introductions. Sokka, this is my father, Ozai. Dad, this is Sokka, my fiancé.”

Ozai choked on his tea.

What?

41 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My post-canon Yuezula oneshot is finally done!

Summary:

“Have you been angry about it? Felt genuine anger?”

Yue looked away, eyes staring out over the field of vibrant pink spirit flowers. “No, I- That wouldn’t help anything. I can’t change what happened. And I wouldn’t, I had to do it for my people and the world. It’s not like I could let Tui die. I had a duty and it’s good that I could help.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be angry about it.”

42 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[chasingpj]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Twenty One

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous character's death, crying, grieving

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Stepping off the bus you give a huge yawn. It wasn’t a long bus ride from Osamu’s apartment to the shrine but it dragged on from the little sleep you got last night. Kita wasn’t keen on having you walk from the apartment in your current state, and Aran almost called a taxi for you. But you couldn’t let them pay for it when you could’ve walked. You all settled on you taking the bus, albeit Kita provided the fare.

You’re pretty sure he feels a bit bad that you weren’t going to be there when Osamu woke up, but he was still completely passed out when you left. You couldn’t wait any longer unless you wanted to be late, so you left the apartment that morning with a promise from Kita to call with any updates.

You’re extremely grateful that Kita is willing to be forthcoming, especially after you weren’t 100% helpful during Kita’s initial search for Osamu. But as you walk towards the shrine entrance, you power off your phone and slip it into your bag.

Today is about Hajime, he deserves all of your attention.

Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki wait for you at the entrance, all dressed in nice shirts and ties. You give them a small smile, working hard to bring it to your face. They give you smiles that are equally lackluster, but you don’t blame them at all.

“Y/N-chan~” Oikawa called in a high voice. HIs smile is the biggest, and the fakest. He pulls you into a hug as soon as you are in arms reach. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

You nod against his chest. “Yes, thank you. And thank you for bringing me clothes.”

“What’s this about last night?” Makki asks in a pale imitation of his usual teasing voice. He looks pale in the bright light of day and his hand is held tight in Mattsun’s.

You shake your head gently. “I’ll tell you later.”

“He’ll hold you to that.” Mattsun warns. HIs face is blank - at first glance his stoicism is taken for apathy, but you know the real truth.

It’s silent for a beat before Oikawa speaks up. “Well, shall we?”

You all nod and together walk into the park. It’s quiet and you don’t pass many others on your way. No words are exchanged on your walk but you all walk close together.

As you round the corner, you can see Hajime’s grave. Your breathing picks up and you reach for Oikawa’s hand. It’s always a surreal moment, seeing the exact location where Hajime is meant to be. His tombstone doesn’t stand out for the others, save for today - it shines in the sun a bit more and fresh flowers are in a vase by the base of the grave.

“The Iwaizumis’ were here earlier.” Oikawa mentions in a breathy whisper. “They didn’t want to impose on our visit.”

Mattsun clears his throat. “We should visit them soon.”

Makki makes a noise that sounds like an affirmative but it’s hard to tell from tears he’s audibly trying to hold back.

Soon, too soon, you’re standing in front of Hajime’s grave. You read the epitaph on the stone, as you’ve done every time.

Here lies Iwaizumi Hajime - a son, a friend, a brother. His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

This has been the sixth time you’ve read this inscription - the first, second and third time you were unable to get through the first few words without breaking down and crying. The fourth time you were able to read it all before you cried, and the last time you were able to be a pillar of support to Oikawa who broke down then.

And now, as you read through the words, you feel the familiar tears well in your eyes and a blanket of melancholy settle over your shoulders. But this time, you stop and take in the meaning of those words.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

You glance to the side at your friends, those who also loved Hajime. Makki is opening weeping, his face buried in his hands. Mattsun has his arms around his boyfriend, his face hard and eyes glossy. Oikawa has brought his hands together and bowed his head. His eyes are closed but the little crease in between his eyebrows give away his distress.

You look back to the grave, to this grand sculpted piece of stone, this final resting place for your best friend, and close your eyes.

I miss you Hajime. You’re not particularly religious, nor do you have much belief in deities or gods that watch over you. But since Hajime’s passing, you’ve been able to fully understand the appeal of an afterlife - if tHajime is out there, somewhere, you can still talk to him. You can tell him how much you miss him and know that he’s hearing you. There’s some comfort and peace that can be found with the ritual.

But there’s also danger. There’s the potential of developing disastrous habits, or forging an alternate reality where your loved one isn’t dead. And you can lose yourself in that reality.

That’s why you sent those messages to Hajime’s old phone - you needed that last line of communication, albeit one-way communication. You needed to trick yourself into believing that he was really alive, to numb yourself from the harsh truth that he wasn’t.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

Is his spirit living on, truthfully? Were you really honoring Hajime’s life and legacy with those messages you sent? Or were you leading yourself down a path that you had no intention of straying from?

When Osamu texted you back from Hajime’s number, you were devastated. But in a way, Osamu had been your saving grace - you had no choice but to break your habit once he received the new phone number. There was no way you could continue to burden him with your messages and please and desperation. It was the clean break you needed, the hand to lead you out of the dark. And not only did he help break the habit, he became another person you could depend on.

You think back on the coffees and lunches you had shared and messages sent late in the night. You became close, unnaturally quick. Did you both just click with each other? Or did you rely on him more than you should? Was your dependence on him detrimental to your budding relationship? Did you rely on him to be a pillar of strength, because he, quite figuratively, took Hajime’s place in your life?

Your eyes open quickly. The fact that the answer is not crystal clear worries you. How long have you been using your friends, albeit subconsciously?

Suddenly Osamu’s anger towards you makes complete sense. And is justified. You need to apologize to him. To him and Hajime. You knew (or hoped at least) that you’d have the chance to apologize to Osamu. But now, this is your chance to apologize to Hajime.

You clasp your hands together and close your eyes. (And you work really hard to ignore how foolish you feel.)

Hajime, you think. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you how I felt about you and not being upfront about my feelings. You feel tears behind your closed eyes. I wanted to be able to love you like you deserved but I was scared. And I’m so sorry.

You can picture Hajime’s smile, the way his eyes would close when he would laugh, how he would curl into himself when he couldn’t stop laughing.

A few tears eek past your closed eyes.

You can also imagine Osamu, his eyes crinkling at the corners, in time with the upturn of his lips. You can feel the gentle, soothing patterns he traced on your back while you cried.

You weren’t able to love Hajime the way you wish you could have. Maybe you can give it your all with Osamu.

But why does that idea make your stomach twist and fill you with shame? Why does the idea make you feel like a villain?

You open your eyes again and look at Hajime’s grave.

Is it because to give it your all with Osamu would mean letting go of Hajime?

“Are you ready to leave?”

Mattsun’s voice brings you out of your heavy thoughts. You look at him, seeing an openly weeping Makki held tightly in his arms. You nod and turn to your other side.

Oikawa is crouched down, with his head bowed forward and one hand resting over Hajime’s name.

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Oikawa.” He doesn’t give any indication that he heard you, but after a few seconds he rises. He wipes his face and turns to leave.

“Let’s go.”

Mattsun guides Makki out, letting him continue to cry as they walk. You bring an arm around Oikawa’s waist and pull him in tight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes back.

Hearts heavy, you all exit the shrine and make your way to the park. It’s not far from the shrine but no words are exchanged throughout your walk. It remains silent as you enter the park, find a good spot in the shade and set up the picnic.

It’s a glorious day - blue skies without a cloud in sight. A gentle breeze blows through every now and then, and the temperature is perfect.

As everyone settles onto the blanket Oikawa opens his bag and pulls out the food. You take yours from him and open the container. A sad smile crosses your lips. “Agedashi tofu?”

Oikawa nods. “Seemed fitting.”

“Is it really picnic food?” Mattsun asks. Makki is quiet, his eyes and nose red.

“Anything is picnic food at a picnic!” Oikawa retorts.

Mattsun raises his eyebrows and puts a piece in his mouth. His face quickly morphs to surprise as he chews. “I take back what I said.”

Oikawa harrumphs and turns to his meal. You share a small smile with Makki before tucking in.

The food really is quite good. The tofu is crispy on the outside but flavorful on the inside. The four of you sit in silence as you eat. You don’t feel the need to make conversation, but the silence you bask in is melancholic.

Suddenly Oikawa slams down his container. His utensils rattle against the lid and he harrumphs again. The noise brings you out of your stupor, and you glance at Mattsun (sharing a curious look) before speaking up. “Are you okay Tooru?”

“No!” Oikawa cries. He sniffs and turns his head away, glaring at the blanket. You sigh inwardly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Oikawa would crack. He’s been surprisingly strong today but you know he harbors a lot of hurt and you were waiting for the moment you could come in and support him.

“I’m annoyed!” His brief explanation makes you furrow your eyebrows and you wait for him to continue. “I knew today would be awful and I thought that putting together this picnic would help us cope, but all I can think about is how much Iwa-chan would laugh at me right now!

“And I miss him so much and I want to embrace that feeling but all I hear is ‘Shittykawa, stop being a diva’ and ‘You idiot, this is too much.” Oikawa sniffles back the snot in his nose and shakes his head. “Iwa-chan was such a brute.”

You, Mattsun and Makki share surprised looks at Oikawa’s rant. But they soon give way to loud laughter that bubbles from your chests.

Because Oikawa is totally right. Anytime you all (mainly Oikawa) tried to plan a party for Hajime - whether it be a birthday party or celebrating some achievement, Hajime would hate it. You weren’t sure if he hated having the spotlight on him or his instinct to hate whatever Oikawa would put together.

“Do you remember when we tried to throw a surprise birthday party for him?” You ask through your laughter.

Makki giggles. “Yeah, and he punched Oikawa in the face!”

“Or,” Mattsun pauses to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “Or when the security guard chased Y/N and Iwa off the school grounds for some game?”

You nod, feeling another fit of giggles take over. “Yeah! Oikawa tried to organize a scavenger hunt!”

Makki snorts loudly, which pushes you and Mattsun over the edge again. You look at Oikawa, who is looking put-out but is clearly trying to hold back his laughter. Makki snorts again, making Mattsun wheeze, and Oikawa breaks.

The four of you are completely losing it in the park, laughing loud and uninhibited. Between breaths you all share more stories - most of Hajime trying his best to reign in you and Oikawa while Makki and Mattsun didn’t do anything to help him.

You’re not sure if it’s you or someone else, but soon tears mix in with your laughter. You look around to see your friends laughing and crying as well.

Watching Maki & Mattsun tease Oikawa for his ugly crying face, you can just picture Hajime sitting with you all. And instead of the thought making you shrivel up inside, warmth blossoms in your chest. You can see Hajime beating Maki in another arm wrestling match, or laughing at something sarcastic Mattsun said. If you really thought about it you can see Hajime yelling at something that Oikawa did (whether he deserved to be yelled at or not.)

You can imagine Hajime sitting next to you now in the sun. If you were to meet his gaze you know that he’d give you a fond look. You can picture it perfectly. It’s one that he’d wear when his friends would achieve the impossible, or break through a challenge that had been keeping them down.

It was a look of pride.

He always wanted what was best for you, and for his friends - his selfless actions could fill books that could fill libraries. His praise for you all made you keep pushing forward. It’s one of his most admirable traits, and one reason why you fell in love with him.

You know, deep down, that he would be okay with you moving on. This whole time it was you that was scared of letting go.

But here in this park, on the anniversary of Hajime’s passing, you finally feel okay with moving on. And if you could tell him that, he’d wipe the tears from your eyes and give you a soft smile. A smile that says how proud he is of you, one that says much he loves you, and one that you know means that he’ll always be with you.

In a way, Oikawa’s specially-planned lunch worked exactly how it was meant to. Because even though exactly six months ago your world completely fell apart, you can sit here now and feel some peace. You know that you have to pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. You know that some days the pain will be unbearable. But with your friends here, you have the strength to put yourself together again. With that thought, you look up at the sky and smile.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: This entire scene was maybe the second or third scene I drafted out when I wrote this story (mainly because I had been writing so much angst and I needed some relief for these guys.) Like honestly, I don't think they have all sat together and talked about Iwaizumi in this story at all like this - laughing and reminiscing together. It makes my heart soar - of course they're not magically fixed or things are going to be getting better in the end but there's a clear difference between their dynamic from the start of the story to now. And that makes me very happy. 💖💖💖 I hope you are all enjoying the story, thank you so much for reading!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef @badkarma-a @reina-de-tay @meianshugoswife

[nahoyaglock]

↬ KARASUNO AS COUPLE PICS! + headcanons

karasuno x gn!reader, headcanons, fluff

A/N! im so sorry that this is so long hhh + reblogs are appreciated and feedback is too :D i also did not read this over so im sorry if it sucks and theres errors

Daichi

Daichi would walk home with you since you lived nearby him

and since it was the weekend he thought he would hang out with you at your place

you two would stop at a nearby convince store, spliting up and searching the aisles for some ramen and chips

you ran over to the chips aisle after grabbing the ramen and saw daichi grabbing multiple bags

he shot you a big smile and you just scoffed and playfully kicked his shin

"we dont need that many bags daichi!"

"of course we do babe"

you left with 4 bowls of instant ramen and 7 different bags of chips

Sugawara

sugawara had planned this for a whole week

his sweet s/o had a hard week? prepare for some clingy bf sugawara and to be spoiled

he picked you up at 4pm to let you sleep in from staying up studying all night friday

once you arrived at the lake nearby his place, you saw the little picnic blanket

he had brought out a little speaker, playing some soft, relaxing tunes

you guys ate and talked, and even just watched the trees blow in the wind

you would hear a song you like, and you would pull sugawara to his feet to dance to the song

he would twirl you and at the end of the song he would dip you, kissing you softly

"thank you so much suga"

"anything for my sugar~"

Asahi

you were a very reckless person, and asahi loved that about you

he would always be by your side for all your adventures, but one day you decided to settle down

you invited asahi over to your small home, your parents out for the day

your small radio played some old tunes as asahi laid on your bed watching you tend to your plants or ramble on as you always did

you cuddled with him a for a few hours until you saw the orange rays come in through your window

"asahi! asahi watch the sunset with me!"

you shot out of bed and pulled your large boyfriend after you

you opened your window and sat on the window sill, swinging your legs around to the other side

being on a second floor, you started asahi

"Hey, be careful"

"get your big ass over here!"

he followed after you, sitting next to you and wrapped an arm around you as the two of you watched the sun set

Tanaka

fools. you are a pair of reckless fools

tanaka had proposed the idea of a late night hang out

you being just as wild you agreed, and thats how you found yourself with tanaka running around at night, nearly 1am

on your adventure, you found a shopping cart knocked onto its side, you and tanakas eyes meeting with a devious smirk

next thing you knew, tanaka had turned on his speaker and shuffled his spotify playlist as you climbed into the cart

"awe, i wanted you to push me!"

"slow poke! now push!"

he pushed you, running while you two shouted and laughed into the night, doja cat and NIKI playing on his speaker

i just know this mans is a doja cat fan

Nishinoya

nishinoya was a very energetic and fun person, and you were as well, but you just weren't as reckless

as you two walked down the road to your house, nishinoya rambled on and on about practice and his day

you didnt mind, being way less talkative than him, you liked to listen to him

he suddenly jumped into the air, a big happy and excited smile on his face as you could practically see a light buld above his head

"can we take a picture?"

"whats the catch?"

"okay okay, what if we do a handstand!"

you giggled at his request and he looked at you with hopeful eyes

"yes, but if i get hurt your gonna give me a piggy back!"

he sets up his camera against his school bag and sets the timer, running back to where you were

"okay okay, GO!"

you both did a handstand and held it until the timer went off and his phone clicked

Hinata

hinata loved going anywhere with you, as long as you were by his side he was already having so much fun

one day you asked him if he wanted to go to the beach, and he practically shouted in excitement

the next day, saturday, you two left in the morning to take a bus to the nearest beach, and hinata brought his bike

when you guys arrived he walked around with his bike as you ran around slightly ahead oh him in the sad

hinata had to watch over his bike so we couldn't run around with you, but then he got an idea

"hey, do you wanna go on a ride along the shore?"

"OH. MY. GOD. YES!!"

he hopped into his bike and you climbed onto the back, and you two ride along the shore at a decently quick pace

the air in your face made you feel free and you lifted your arms up, closing your eyes as you let the air hit you

hinata would take a quick glance back, but it was just long enough to see the beautiful look on your face that made him smile

-

Tsukishima

even though tsukishima was cold to everyone else, he was slightly less cold towards you, and hed never admit it but you made him soft

i hc tsukishima secretly being a soft boy who enjoys relaxing and reading in his alone time, sometimes even with you

one day you come over to surprise your boyfriend, his brother opening the door for you as you greeted him and his mother.

you made your way to his room and turned the door nob

"oh tsukki!"

you opened the door and saw your boyfriend laying in a pair of yellow and black plaid pajama pants and a navy green sweater, reading as some music played on his speaker

he groaned and closed his book as you walked over to his bed and jumped into his arm

"you had to come over today? you didnt even tell me."

"i like seeing tsukishima kei in his natural habitat"

you pulled a book out of your bag, one that you and tsukishima read together often and he pulled you into his lap and opened to where you had last read

the orange rays of the sun filled his room as you two read the book, soon falling asleep in each others presence

Kageyama

constantly everyday, this boy was trying to find a way to let you into his life or show his appreciation with more than just holding your hand

one day you guys were chilling on the grass infront of his home, his mothers music playing through the living room window, loud enough for you to hear

the sun was starting to set and a slightly blue hue painted the surroundings

"hey, do you dance?"

you were a bit shocked by that question since you were usually the one to ask random questions like that

"im not that good at it but sure, why?"

kageyama stood up and held out his hand

"may i have this dance?"

you laughed at his question and took his hand, pulling yourself up

"yes you may~"

kageyamas hand rested on your hip, your hand on his shoulder and your other hands were connected at your sides

you guys slow danced, mimicking a waltz, stepping on each others shoes occasionally

kageyamas cheeks were red the whole time as he twirled you and connected his hands with both of yours

he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and you stared up in awe as your boyfriend shot a wide smile at you, one that you havent seen before

"y-your smiling!"

"w-what?"

"what did you do to kageyama!"

"i am kageyama!"

Yamaguchi

you and yamaguchi loved to be together, bestfriends and lovers, tsukishima falling victim to third wheeling, not as if he cared much tho

yamaguchi loves flowers almost as much as you do, so when he found this small flower field a few miles past his house he knew he had to take you there

you and yamaguchi walked hand snd hand to this "surprise" place he wanted you to see

when you were close, he covered your eyes and led you past the trees and rocks, placing you in the middle of the large flower field

"ready annnnndd.. open!"

you opened your eyes and froze in awe at the colorful flowers that dotted the field

you turned to your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his neck, tackling him to the floor

"I LOVE YOU SO MUCH TADASHI!"

he winced softly as you whispered apologized and peppered his cheek in kisses and he just laughed

"I love you too y/n"

he turned to his side and plucked a daisy, smiling softly as he turned back to face you

he pushed some hair back behind your ear and placed the flower behind your ear, smiling widely as his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink

"i think you're the prettiest flower in the WHOOOOLE world!"

he placed soft kisses to your lips as you laid in the middle of the flower field

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

I have a weird request:

Android!Virgil and Cyborg!logan in a kinda dark fic about Virgil figuring out that he's an android/breaking down a bunch of times and having to be updated or repaired with new tech and memories. (The new tech being fake stuff to make him more human-like. Like a fake pulse or something) and every time he gets a reboot virgil and logan re-fall for eachother. (Romantic analogical with background royalty or rociet, you choose.)

Rust and Bones

Word Count: 1,524 CW: Abuse implied, memory loss, food mention, mentions of bones.

Author Note: Soulmate trope in use- Ink marks are present on the body. When your soulmate is in the vicinity, the marks will slowly move to follow them, reaching out and being on the body part closest to them. When you touch, the ink marks connect with each other in the place with the most contact.

Logan crowed in triumph, his hands hovering in the air as Virgil turned on. “Virge? Darling, can you hear me?”

Virgil looked around the room. “An500, ready for instructions.”

Logan sighed. Once every three months, Virgil’s owners, Logan’s stepfamily, sent him off to be upgraded and reset. Logan had been trying to think of a way to at least get around the memory wipe but it seemed nothing worked. “An500, register your name.” He waited the three heartbeats it took for Virgil to look at him. “Virgil.”

Virgil smiled. “My name is Virgil.” His voice still sounded so robotic.

Logan stood. “Free from factory settings. Use personality pre-set two.” This was the closest he’d gotten, being able to pre-program his snarky personality.

Virgil blinked a few times. “Personality pre-set two, initiated.” He looked at Logan, voice changing from the standard cheery to his usual sass and indifference. “How can I help?”

Logan rubbed his elbow, where flesh met metal. “I’m Logan, by the way. Start by putting those tools away, please.” He gestured to the table beside them that was covered in tools. Tools Logan had used to try to fix Virgil.

Virgil got off the low stool and started gathering the tools. “You gonna tell me where to put these or am I just supposed to guess?”

Logan groaned, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Of course, sorry.” He picked up a tablet and sent the labeled map of the workshop directly to the android. “There. Now, I’m going to wipe this grease off.”

Virgil gave a thumbs up, focused on his task.

Logan entered the tiny bedchamber he occupied, more of a closet than a room, filled with pictures and memories of him and Virgil. He ignored every memento and went through the doorway leading to his bathroom, a place even smaller than his bedroom. Luckily, some water came out of the tap when he went to shower.

The dirt and grime of his week washed away, leaving a purple ink splot on his shoulder, the part of his body closest to Virgil. He rubbed the soulmark, hugging himself as it slowly followed Virgil’s movements around the workspace. Holding his hands in front of him, Logan looked at the metal hand and forearm that was starting to rust, desperately trying to imagine it as flesh and bone. He’d been so young when it happened, he didn’t even remember becoming a monster.

Some would see that as a blessing.

The water didn’t stay hot for long. It never did. Still, he stood under the cold spray for a few moments longer before dressing.

The weeks passed slowly, lonely without his Virgil’s company. Sure, Virgil was there and helpful but it wasn’t the Virgil he knew. It wasn’t the Virgil that would hold him as he slept, that would laugh with him during repairs, that would do a hundred little things to make the time pass easier. Their usual banter was gone, replaced with sarcastic replies that shut down conversations. It was as if a stranger was wearing his lover’s face.

About a month after the reset, Virgil found Logan counting what little cash he had. “What are you doing? What’s the money for?”

“I’m doing odd jobs here and there. The family doesn’t know about it and I want to keep it that way. I want to get out of here one day, start a new life somewhere.” A life where he didn’t have to worry about the love of his life not knowing him, a life where he wasn’t worked to the bone with nothing to show for it.

Virgil’s face fell. To anyone else, it would have looked barely different, but Logan had spent the last year studying Virgil’s micro expressions. “Oh. Okay. I just came to tell you that I’m finished. Anything else you need?”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m sure the family has some use for you.” He hoped Virgil came back in one piece.

He didn’t.

Not fifteen minutes later, Logan heard a loud thump and snap and rushed up the stairs to find Virgil lying on the ground, his left leg broken just below the knee. Oil leaked from the break and from his eyes as he cried black tears.

Logan’s stepmother turned to face him. “Oh, good, you’re here.” She pointed at Virgil. “Be a dear and fix it for me?”

Logan held back a scream of anger and frustration and instead went over to Virgil. “Hey, you’re going to be fine. Just focus on me, baby.” His voice was low enough that only Virgil could hear.

Logan wiped the tears away as Virgil clung to him. Logan tried not to think of the purple and blue ink drops that were winding around their highest point of contact. He helped Virgil stand, holding the leg in his flesh hand and supporting Virgil with the metal.

They made it down the stairs and Logan helped Virgil sit on the table while he gathered supplies. “What happened?” Logan kept his voice soft and gentle, no judgement found within.

“It all happened so fast. I was first just trying to help with something but she bumped me and suddenly I was falling over the stair banister, my leg taking the brunt of the impact and snapping.” Virgil watched Logan sit on the low stool in front of him and get to work on welding his leg back on. “Thank you.”

Logan looked up at him. “This fix is only temporary. Your leg will be replaced when you go in for maintenance.” He tried not to think of what else maintenance meant for him.

“I didn’t mean just for the leg.”

“Oh.” Logan realized he meant the comfort from earlier. “That was nothing.”

Virgil reached out, stilling Logan’s hands. “You’ve never treated me as anything less than human. I think it’s what I love the most about you.”

Logan didn’t dare look up from his purple hands being held by Virgil’s blue ones. Finally, he kissed the back of Virgil’s hand, rubbing his thumb over it. “How could I not treat my soulmate well?” His voice was quiet.

Virgil tilted Logan’s face up and lent in, being met halfway.

The next two months found the pair renewing their romantic relationship and taking on more odd jobs to make more cash. The plan was for them to run off in the dead of night, before Virgil was reset. However, as all plans tend to do, it went awry.

Logan’s stepmother stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the workshop, the farthest into the space she’d go, three days before the planned escape and told him to get Virgil ready. He knew that meant he was going to the shop to be reset and upgraded, probably to have his leg replaced as well. When Logan asked why, she tersely replied that they had an opening and agreed to take him early.

Logan went and told Virgil, too agitated to stop pacing. Virgil stood from his stool and held Logan, one hand fumbling in his pocket. “Things are going to be okay. I thought this might happen.”

Logan sighed, laying his head on Virgil’s shoulder, watching their soulmarks move to that spot. “What do you have in mind?”

Virgil pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. “This has all my memories up until two hours ago. You hold onto it while I’m reset. Then, while they expect you to be putting me back to normal, we escape. Go as far as we can and don’t look back.”

Logan carefully took the backup drive. “How long have you been planning this?”

Virgil shrugged. “Since you told me about the memory reset half a month ago.”

Logan nodded, remembering the night he’d woken from a nightmare of Virgil being reset, and stowed the drive in one of his pockets. “Okay, this can work.”

The worst feeling Logan ever felt, bar the first time Virgil didn’t recognize him, was having to watch and do nothing as Virgil entered the truck that would take him to be reset. Logan spent the next few hours in agony, pacing the length of his bedchamber. All his and Virgil’s personal belongings were stored in an old suitcase his stepfamily had thrown out for having a broken wheel.

He received a message that Virgil was done that evening and rushed to the front gate to wait for the truck that dropped him off. He brought him back to the workshop along with as much food as they could smuggle in unnoticed.

It was only a matter of ten minutes for Logan to put Virgil’s memory in. They shared a tender kiss and both shed a few tears. Logan filled Virgil in on what he missed while they waited for the sun to set and the house to quiet down before they left, exiting out a side door.

Logan had a bus pass from traveling to and fro and androids rode free, on account of being seen as property rather than people, so they hopped on the bus to see where it would take them.

[kitsunesakii]

I don't bite - part one

  I walked down the street, my hands in my pockets and my headphones on. It was well past midnight and the moon was at its peak. I fiddled with the placement of my headphones resting against my ears, having just got off the bus they were jostled out of position. Normally I didn't ride the bus, instead flying over the city. But, my mission's house was a little past my favorite park, and I had time on my hands. Shoving my hands in my pocket I heaved a sigh. I wasn't really fond of my mission. I hated biting if there wasn't consent. And there wouldn't be in this instance. I dragged my feet, skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk like a child.

     I arrived at his apartment complex a little after one. But I knew he wouldn't be home, it was Saturday, and every Saturday he wasn't home until around three. Hence the headphones. I sat down at the bus stop, he wouldn't be arriving from the bus, amusingly he walked home from wherever he left. But I didn't plan to stand for a whole hour. So sitting down, I waited.

     My eyes met movement, and I felt him come up. I sucked in a breath, I can do this, I can do this. I got up and nonchalantly walked behind him. The tap on my shoulder is what made me whip around, my headphones clattering to the ground. Making my mission turn as well.

     "Hey sweetheart, didn't mean to scare ya, just wanted to ask why you were out here all alone? "

     I stared at him kind of dumbfoundedly, he was clearly homeless, and by the smell wafting off of him I would say he was drunk.

     "Who said she's alone? " the voice was small but firm, as my mission, a guy who's name I wasn't given, walked up besides me, I stilled. both his hands in his pockets. "I told you to keep up, " he handed me my headphones "you know you slow down when wearing these" he made a disappointed frown.

     I looked from him, to the homeless man, then back to him. My brain slowly catching on to what he was doing. He's protecting me, a stranger I forced out a laugh, "haha, gosh I was falling behind, sorry bout that! " I gave him a smile, weary to keep my mouth shut. The homeless man looked at us for a moment, before turning and walking away. Leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

     I turned to fully face the guy. In pictures I had always thought he would be taller, instead, he was only a half an inch taller than me. "Thank you" I sputtered, my brain still catching up to the events that had just transpired. He just stared at me, his face resting in a rather relaxed posture. Neither frowning or smiling.

     "I noticed you were behind me, do you also live in that apartment complex? " his voice was low, like the gentle hum of a cat. His eyes locked with mine, they were a tainted blue with gold lining. This is your chance, no ones around. I clenched my headphones, my mind spinning a million miles a minute.

     "Ah- no, I don't"

     "Oh, " he responded cooley, "well, then, lead the way" it was probably rude to just stare at the boy that basically saved me from someone, but my mouth wouldn't work and my hands were hurting from the plastic rim of the headphones biting into my fingers.

     I gave him a quick smile before forcing my legs forward. Walking aimlessly. He walked beside me quietly, glancing at me every couple minutes. After a while we hit a cafe, and I walked up to the door, once again turning to face my mission. "Thank you,this is my stop, may I ask you your name? "

     "Matthew" he stated.

     "Well then, thank you Matthew" I gave him another small smile. He nodded, his eyes flickering up and down me before he simply walked away. I watched him, my heart beat rapidly increasing with every second. You could still finish your mission, it would be quick, painless I took in another breath. I couldn't do it. He protected me, looked at me like a person. His eyes, blue golden. I felt a small dash of heat nest itself on my cheeks. The anger came second. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't go back empty handed, could I? I failed, I couldn't kill him. Why did it have to be him. A good person with a lax life. I gritted my teeth, there wasn't anything else to do besides head back home. It wont be home much longer. Leaving the coffee shop I headed back to the bus stop, no longer feeling up to walking.

     "What do you mean you couldn't kill him!? " I winced at the tone of voice he used, looking at the wooden floor, unable to make his gaze. The room in question was small, but I felt smaller. It was musty and you breathed smoke with every grab at air. I had spent most of the night into the early hours of the day waiting for him to return. 'Initiation' you could have a home, safety, love and more with a stupid test. I'm an idiot my brain screamed, drilling the words harder then the cutting edge of his own.

     "I-"

     he grabbed my chin with his long nails, cutting into my skin easily.

     "Such a simple task," he growled, "this should of been easy for you, such a waste of energy" this wasn't the first time I had seen him this mad, last week, another lonely vampire seeked refuge with him, and they too couldn't do what was asked. using the hand gripping my chin he yanked me to the floor. I recovered quickly, standing to my feat instantly, taking a small step back. Focusing my attention on his words instead of the  burning sensation the cuts caused.

     "You can stay here until sunset, but then, consider yourself cut off" he growled, with that he used his other hand to scratch from my cheek to the length of my neck,  leaving a scar. I waited until he left my small room before patching myself up.      

     What was I getting myself into? Hot tears trickled down my face, collecting bits of blood on it's way down. I should of never accepted his offer. Idiot, it was stupid to rely on others. All it did was end in pain. It didn't help that I had insomnia. Stupid night Terrors that left me trembling. He had said he could help. Instead he stepped all over me, and I let him. I wiped away the tears. I was fine, I was able to handle myself before and I could do it again.

     I tried to sleep, getting only a few merciful hours before I couldn't stop fidgeting. Thankfully it was a pretty cloudy day, and I didn't own much. Shoving the clothes I did own, and a few other belonging into a bag, I forced myself to leave. Going back to the park, under the shade of a great willow. I breathed in the fresh air, so much better than the musty air of the shady apartment I was forced to stay in. I pulled out my book, enjoying the quiet.

     A small shuffle got my attention, I looked up, wincing at the pain the quick movement pierced into my neck. Only to see Matthew sitting besides me, looking up at the sky. He glanced at me, and once again I was peering into his blue gold eyes. Sparkling in the sunlight. I couldn't help but smile, cautiously keeping my fangs out of sight. "Fancy seeing you here" I stated.

His eyes swam, tracinging my scar wordlessly. "Hi" he said flatly, his features neutral. I felt my fingers absentmindedly play with the corner of my book. "Your bleeding"

     My hands emediatly grazed my scar, my eyes still locked with his. "Oh, yah,  fell-" I muttered, without a moment to process I felt his hand come up and trace the length of the wound. Moving his hand gingerly, his eyes fixated on the scar. I held my breath, his fingers sent ripples that danced over my cheek down to my neck. It was almost soothing, the gentle carressing made my scar itch. I stared at him, his face was like stone, not even paying attention to the surprised expression that was slowly melting from my face, replaced with a tint of scarlet.

     "Does it hurt? "

     I almost didn't register his words, being he practically whispered them. I  caught  his wrist, holding it before it left my neck, "no" I whispered back. He opened his mouth, then closed it, removing his hand and shoving them back into his sweater pockets. Then, as if nothing happened, he once again tilted his head towards the sky, and I back down to my book. Some time passed, I felt him look back over to me, quietly watching me read. It was hard to ignore, and after a few minutes I matched his gaze. He looked lost in thought, not even registering that I caught him staring. Instead, he looked trapped in deep conversation with himself.

     "Do you come here often? " I asked, ripping him from his thoughts.

     "Not really, Do you?" his voice had such a nice hum, almost like an accent.

     "Not really, but it's been a rough day and I didn't have anywhere else to go and I quite enjoy reading-" I felt myself start to ramble, and quickly shut up. My sharp loud voice a stark contrast to his. His brow folded slightly, barley making a dent on his neutral expression.

     "Did someone- Do you need somewhere to stay?"

     "No" yes, I watched him nod before slowly  turning his gaze back to the sky. I looked up as well. The clouds were striking. Each had a unique shape and the sun created shadows that bounced on the tips of some and on the body of others, adding to the depth of the cloud cluster. In total it looked like I was staring at a painting, perfectly mastered to fit the atmosphere. Each cluster was like an island, floating in the blue sea, each containing it's own form. I admired the brilliant picture of white on blue, getting lost in it, feeling time slowly slip away. My eyes closed, lost in my own sea, I didn't even hear him leave.

     I watched the clouds, the day slowly passing over me, fading into the shadows of dusk. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and adjusted my headphones on my head, choosing a playlist before heading out into the night. I walked the same road I had just yesterday, when an idiot decided to look out for me. I bit my lip, a little too hard. Ah, I stopped, abruptly wiping away the bit of blood with my sleeve. "Just another scar to add to my growing collection" I grumbled into the breeze. I found myself walking up to the same cafe I had seen last night. I decided to go in, since I had no real destination.

     Pulling of my headphones and Opening the door I was greeted with the late night song of a coffee shop. in total, there was about 6 people. Not including the barista and myself. There were two girls at a table, looking over a laptop. And a boy flirting with the barista, who wasn't giving him the time of day. Over by the tv was a couch, empty besides a guy with his back to me.  And in another table was another girl and boy, talking lightly. I walked over to the couch, listening to the music that echoed quietly throughout the room. The couch was awfully comfortable, like a warm hug it beckoned me into the soft safety it had to offer. I closed my eyes, hugging my backpack to my chest as I let myself drowned in the beconing noises of the coffee shop.

     My brain sank into the small specks of sleep, pulling me just enough to be jolted awake. Mently cursing at pain it caused in my stomach. I adjusted to the striking colors surrounding me, rubbing the last flecks of sleep out of me. I was me with a pair of eyes, blue with gold lining. "Hi" I gasped, still recovering from the violent awaking.

     He stared at me a moment, and I got the feeling he had been staring before. I straitened in the cushions, fighting against the stiffness of my body. Sleeping in a sitting position wasn't in the least bit comfortable. "How long you been there" I joked, trying again to shift myself into a more polite position.

     "Are you sure you don't need a place to stay? " his voice carried the same low hum as before, but I noticed the concern. Feeling the tips of my cheeks get red. I did need a place to stay.... But I had no money whatsoever, except for a few bucks for the bus. I looked down, why was he being so annoyingly nice??

     "I-im" for the first time, I truly didn't know what to say, he was being so calm, it was driving me mad.

     Without warning, he stood up picking up a coffee that I hadn't noticed before. "Follow me" he said

     We walked out of the coffee shop and into his apartment complex, I fidgeted with the handle of my backpack, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. A million excuses flooding my thoughts. We entered an apartment room, well, more like two room, one small and one large. The kitchen seeped into a nice living room, equipped with a cute couch and coffee table. A little to the left was a separate room that I could only assume was the bedroom. There was a tv on the wall, and a couple shelves to the side, adding a touch of comfort. As I looked around, he walked into the kitchen and placed his coffee on the counter.

     "The couch folds into a bed, and I have spare blankets, oh-" he walked over to a  cupboard and pulled out some medical supplies. Quickly walking over to me, "here, sit" without process I stumbled into the couch, barely catching myself, bracing into the fluff of the fabric.

    "What-" before I could finish my thought my breath hitched as his hand cupped my chin, gently tilting my head, looking at my scar. He glanced at his supplies, picking up a Q tip and dipping it in a thickly coated gel. He put it on my scar, I gasped, the gel felt cold against my skin. He pulled back, his eyes widening

     "Did I hurt you?"

     "No, no, you just startled me, that's all" I gave him a reassuring smile. After a hint of hesitation he carefully glided the Q tip on the length of my scar, only stopping to add more gel. His fingers pressed lightly on my cheek, being carful to not be rough. His gaze set on my scar, his eyes shining in the light on the ceiling. "So pretty" I mumbled, blinking at the fact that I said that aloud. His eyes flickered to mine and I emediatly went beet red. A small smirk rested on his face.

     "Thank you" he mumbled back, his face a light shade of red. He finished quickly, and soon he just sat there, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Not bringing himself to move away, his face back to its same stone look. I yawned, it had been a while since I had gotten even a few hours of sleep, and I was weak. He caught on emediatly and let go, muttering something about blankets while he headed off into his room.

     I rubbed my eyes, setting my backpack down on the floor next to the couch. He came back and opened the couch, creating a cozy looking bed, a perfect fit for me. He placed down the pillow and blanket, and wordlessly I climbed into it. Letting my body relax, barley feeling the blanket being pulled up over my shoulders, or the lights being turned off.

     No, no no no, I wimpered, the shadow looming over me. "Your dreaming, wake up"  the shadow took a step towards me, I let out a low wine, unable to back up, "your dreaming, it's ok, I got you, it's ok"

I felt a tight gripped hand pull me against something, ripping me almost completely out of my nightmare. My eyes still closed, I bared my teeth at the shadow. I tried to pull my legs up to my head, trying to cower from it. My stomach tightening in knots. Something gripped me close, I felt breath on my ear. "Hay hay, it's alright, nothing can hurt you, your safe, your safe." I felt my body relax, the voice louder than the shadow. I let the invisible thing pull me closer, laying my head on something rhythmic. Slowly sending me back to sleep, my eyes still closed, I felt somthing brush against the top of my head, already to far asleep to notice.  

     When I woke up it must of been early because the sun was still well behind the horizon. I sat up, yawning and baring my teeth. There was a clatter in the kitchen, I looked around, the lights were off, but there was Matthew, cooking something over the stove. The smell wafting over. I couldn't help but smile, I didn't know why, but I had slept through the entire night without waking, and I felt very relaxed. I stood up, careful not to disturb Matthew, who was deep in thought. I walked over, leaning against the island and just staring. He was smiling. It was quite a sight, making his eyes shine even more. I wondered what he was smiling about, what was causing his face to show such emotion. I looked over his shoulder, in a pan was two eggs. They crackled and popped.

    "Good morning," I said finally, unable to keep myself quiet. He look over and his smile faded slightly, going back to its stone look. But the light in his eyes only got bigger. "Oh please, don't stop smiling for me" I teased, watching his face go bright red.

     "Good morning" he said back, watching my movements closely. "Did you sleep good?"

     "Yes actually! I sleep wonderful, your couch is super comfortable" I said, his eyes searched mine, as if looking for a clue. I cocked my head to the side, giving a playful frown to his reaction. "Everything ok?" I asked, the tense silence growing too much for me.

     His features relaxed, "yah, just making sure" he said, turning his attention back to the pan of eggs. After a moment he skillfully slid them on two separate plates and handed a plate to me. Opening a drawer and pulling out two forks. We sat down over at a small table that bordered the kitchen. It was in front of a window, outside I could see the sun peeking out. I shuffled nervously, taking a bite of my eggs.

     "These are really good" I said, my mouth full of egg. His blue gold eyes brighteded, and he glanced at the window, noticing the rising sun. Then, he stood up and pulled the shutters closed, making sure no light got in before proceeding to continue making work on his eggs. Without any words said. My brow folded, confusion and slight paranoia lapping at my senses.

     "What was that about?" I asked innocently, my eyes narrowing.

     "He looked at me a moment, his fork still fiddling with his breakfast. "The sun is too bright in the morning" he said flatly, averting his eyes.

     "Ok...."

     We went back to eating in silence, after I was done, and noticed he was also done. I stood and took his plate, quick enough so that he didn't have the chance to argue. "Thank you for breakfast" I said again, placing the two plates in the dishwasher. "And... Thank you for letting me stay the night, but..." I made myself state what had been bugging me for the past few minutes. "I don't have enough money to pay you for your hospitality. I don't want to invade on your privacy, and you probably don't want someone like me hanging around your apartment and-" I was cut short in my rambling by the small smirk that was slowly growing on his face. I had expected him to be disappointed, maybe even mad. But he looked, amused. "What? Why are you smiling" I said, embarrassment flickering in my words.

     "I wasn't expecting payment. I enjoy the company." He explained, trying but failing at forcing his smirk off his face. "You can stay as long as you want" he finished. Standing to his feet he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a spare key, handing it to me. "Just make sure to lock up before you leave" he hummed, his voice back to its low sing song like melody. Leaving me flabbergasted.

     I cleaned up the couch, folding it back to a sitting position and placing the blanket and pillow on it neatly. When I finished I sat down, he had left shortly after our conversation. Mumbling something about work. He had tossed me the remote before leaving. I skipped through the channels, the news wasn't ever really interesting, it was all the same now. Talk about the politics of vampires and humans, vampire rights and freedoms. Stupid. Ten years now, people have lived with them peacefully. The news was grasping at strings. Still, it was better than nothing, and I settled for a channel on cooking. It wasn't long before I got fidgety, and had to pace around the room for a while. It was too bright to risk going outside, so I opened the fridge to drink something instead. There wasn't much, but orange juice sounded good, so I drank that. Slowly but surely, as the day carried on, the sun started to settle behind the horizon, kissing the mountain tops.

     I fiddled with my headphones, when the door opened and in he came. "Hay!" I shouted, giving him a closed lipped grin.

     "Hi" he breathed back, clearly exasperated from whatever he was getting back from. He made a beeline to his room, closing it behind him. It didn't take long before he had came back out in a new more comfortable outfit. His hands in his pockets. "Are you hungry, I know a really good place over a ways" he asked, his blue gold eyes locking with mine.

     "Yes! I would love that!" Jumping off the couch giddily, I needed to get out into the fresh air. We walked out of the apartment and into the night air, softly lit with the last remaining glow the sun had to offer. There was a slight breeze, and the trees danced to its rhythm. I smiled, unable to contain the happiness stirring inside of me. Like any vampire, I absolutely loved the nighttime. The shadows that played in the corners of your vision, mixed with the hum of others basking in the night air. Bats gliding gracefully in the air, silent as the darkness around them. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I caught Matthew staring at me. His eyes full of awestruck wonder.

     We made our way over to a cute little restaurant and ordered food, sitting in the outside seats. Per his request.

     "How was work?" I asked, nibbling On the sandwich placed in front of me.

     "It was fine"

     We ate quietly, silently enjoying each other's presence. When I finished, I closed my eyes. A gust of wind crashing into me, it felt amazing. And I itched to be up in the sky, feeling the rush of the flight. The high it gave. I opened my eyes, his soft gaze peiring into mine.

     "Your so beautiful when you get lost in thought"

     His abrupt complement left me red and speechless, "ah," I averted my eyes, my gaze faultering towards the floor. "Thanks" I mumbled, unable to meet his blue gold eyes. My stomach stirred with the same weird feeling I felt the day before. We walked home, too flustered to speak. I noticed him watching me in the corner of my eye, his face in its calm stone stare. I could get used to that, I pondered to myself.

     We got home and I once again got ready for bed, this time entering the bathroom and changing into pj's. I layed back down into the comfy blankets and drifted into sleep, the events of the day still lingering in my thoughts.

@vigilantetendencies

[rockthistowninsideout]

DigiWeek 2021

Day 2 - Voyage

The Story

part 1 part 3 part 4

   After the first shock of having been transported to the Digital World had subsided we had tallied what was in our possession. We still had our school bags with us which meant unnecessary burdens in the form of school books and notebooks. But we couldn’t just throw them away so we had to carry them if we liked it or not. Thankfully, we still had our full bento boxes in there as well (today we’d gotten free pizza for lunch because of the principal’s birthday – the only good thing coming out of this miserable day). In addition to that I had a small first aid kit at the bottom of my bag while Taki was always carrying a sewing kit. We could be off worse, I supposed.

   Once that was out of the way, the four of us set off to the West – at least I thought it was the West as the sun was moving in this direction (I mean, the world was moving in this direction. My science teacher would get pustules if he’d heard that.) The vegetation grew sparser the longer we trudged until we suddenly stepped into thick powdery snow.

   “Oh God!”, Taki muttered, clutching her bare arms after a few metres. She started to shake until I took off my jacket and placed it on her shoulders. “Thank you”, she said with a bright smile.

   I simply touched her back in response. “How far is it?”, I asked Kamemon.

   “There’s a cave about an hour away where we can hide for the night.”

   Just as it had said this, a snowstorm descended completely out of the blue. For a moment, we were engulfed in a twirling cloud of snowflakes. Taki and I leaned into each other to shield ourselves. When that cleared, a hideous Digimon stood before us, baring his sharp white teeth from out of a mass of black wiry fur.

   “Oh, Frezamon! My friend, how are you doing?” Kamemon said cheerily.

   I blinked rapidly. I wouldn’t call someone a friend who was frantically dancing around us. It drew nearer and suddenly produced an ice pick from among its fur. With which it was aiming at us now!

   Kamemon took a step back. “It’s never done that before!”

   “Stay back!”, Ryudamon yelled. It leapt before the three of us, hissing “Tera Burst!” and jumping into the air to fire several mini explosions. My eyes went wide watching but Frezamon simply danced back, noticing that a few fur strands had caught fire. It grabbed a handful of snow to put the fire out. Then it let out a roar and threw the ice pick. It sailed past Taki’s scalp by a whisker but only because she had managed to duck away in time. Suddenly the DigiVice, how the round devices we had gotten were called, at her belt started to glow – as did Ryudamon and it changed in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-moment from the mastiff-sized Digimon to a blue cyber dinosaur three times my height. It looked terrifying with its red sharp claws, bolted extremities, and sizzling cable ends serving as its tail. My own DigiVice lit up. The name DexDorugamon appeared on it.

   Frezamon, though, seemed not intimidated by it. The ice pick returned in a boomerang-like fashion and now it was ready to throw it again. The twirling fur revealed something that caught my eye. A black spike was protruding from Frezamon’s back.

   “Kamemon”, I asked and indicated the spike. “Is that a normal feature of Frezamon? Like a bee sting?”

   Kamemon cautiously peered around Frezamon’s back. Its eyes went wide. “No! I have never seen that before!”

   “Well, you said something about a gruesome force. Maybe that’s what’s responsible for the spike.”

   Taki, who was still looking frightened, yelled “You heard that?”

   DexDorugamon raised a claw as answer. It jumped for Frezamon’s ice pick, tore it away and by doing so it caused Frezamon to topple over. Now that it lay face-first on the ground, DexDorugamon could aim its Cannonball at the spike. It burst into a thousand shards that floated in the air for a moment before dissolving into sparks of data. As DexDorugamon evolved back to Ryudamon, Frezamon slowly rose to its feet, looking confused.

   “Oh, hey friends! How come you’re out here in the cold? And who are those weird-looking creatures?” It indicated Taki and me.

   I squinted at Frezamon. “You don’t remember anything?” I asked incredulously.

   It shook its head, asking with a frown, “Should I?”

   “Well, you just tried to kill my best friend!”

   Kamemon rushed to Frezamon. “What my DigiDestined actually means is that something caused you to attack us. You wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t been out of your mind, right?”

   Despite being basically nothing but fur, Frezamon managed to look like an entire question mark. And then downright offended. “Of course not! I would never hurt my friends.” It tilted its head and scratched it. “Now, thinking about it, you’re not the only -  what did you just say, Kamemon?”

   “DigiDestined.”

   “-DigiDestined that I’ve encountered. I saw one the other day up on the mountain.” He indicated the snow-covered peaks on the horizon.

   Taki and I exchanged a look. Another human! So we weren’t the only ones stranded in the Digital World!

   “We should go find them”, Taki said. She looked much better, now that the imminent danger was banned. “Maybe they know how to get out of here.”

   “Why would you want to leave the ice wastelands?” Frezamon asked truly flabbergasted.

   “Our friends here are not made for arctic conditions”, Ryudamon explained. “We need to find food and shelter for the night so we can strategise on our next move.”

   Frezamon waved its ice pick in farewell. It bared his teeth and said: “Then goodbye and good luck on your journey!”

DexDorugamon

(Frezamon is a Digimon made up by me so I can’t present you a picture now.)

What happens if your (favourite) character comes to your country/city?

   “Oh how wonderful, Germany! Pretzels, Weißwurst, and potatoes! God, I love potatoes!”, Miyako exclaimed as she, Mimi, Hikari, and Sora were exiting Bremen Airport. She stood for a second at the curb, closing her eyes and inhaling (though mostly exhaust fumes), before stepping onto the bus that would take them to their destination.

   Their tour guide Susanne, a German chef Mimi had met on one of her cooking trips around the world, laughed. “You are aware that you are in the North of Germany. We do not eat pretzels and weißwurst, at least they’re not our national dishes. We eat kale and - Pinkel!”

   Hikari’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “Pinkel? Sorry, my German is really, really just rudimental, but as far as I’m concerned pinkeln means to pee. I doubt you eat anything related to pee!”

   “Of course not. Pinkel is East Frisian and, you may be surprised to hear that, East Frisian is more related to English than to modern day German. So Pinkel derives from pinkelt, or pinky finger. At least that’s one theory. It’s a smoked Kaszanka, made of pig’s blood, pork offal, and buckwheat or barley”, Susanne explained.

   Miyako and Hikari exchanged a look, wide-eyed. “Pork offal?”, they said in unison, sounding utterly disgusted.

   Susanne shrugged. “Sure. why let anything go to waste? I heard that head-to-tail usage of animals is very en-vogue again.”

   “Well”, Miyako drawled, “I think I’ll just stick to the vegetarian options then.”

[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 1

Prompt: Symbolic jewelry

Sub! Tup x Female (AFAB) OC

Hello! Willkommen to the grand opening of me doing Kinktober (even if this post is a few hours late for the actual 1st 😅)! Here is my prompt list derived from Kinktober lists by @ink-and-flame. Their prompt lists are phenomenal, but for the sake of my ADHD I had to whittle it down into a more finite list of interests that I am comfortable writing and know at least a little about it, or else I’ll just get lost in the sauce of prompts! But seriously, go check out their lists, they’re incredibly varied and have something for everyone! 

And now without further ado:

Tags: some drinking, sub male, femdom, nudity, almost pussy eating (working up to it in part 2!), pussy worship, praise kink, worship kink (is that a thing?),  there’s no sex in this fic it’s just the lead up (she is spoicy tho)

Words: 1609

🍑🍑🍑

Under his shirt, the chain and pendant Tup wore brushed cooly against his chest. As unpleasant as the gooseflesh it raised was, the reminder it gave him was anything but. 

From the moment he’d awoke that morning, wrapped in arms as pale as the thin sunlight at that hour, he knew what he wanted and began to get ready. A few kisses pecked around his groggy girlfriend, Aurelie’s, face placated her awakening at his rising and he moved to her dressing table to grab the aforementioned necklace. If she wasn’t interested in playing, it would have been put away the night before in it’s felt case, but this morning he plucked it from it’s customary open place before the mirror. 

Catching the morning bus he felt it leap and jump with the rhythm of the air vehicle as the pilot navigated Coruscant air-traffic. After the war ended and the clones were given their freedom, sentient rights, and a hell of a lot of backpay, there were questions of what was to be done with them. As it turned out, there wasn’t such a mass exodus from the GAR as previously thought there would be, though many opted to retire from combat positions. Tup chose to oversee the supply requisition and organization for the newly formed Search & Rescue Ops, a subsidiary of the Disaster Relief Squadron, helping places around the galaxy affected by natural disasters. It felt meaningful and good, and he could honestly say he didn’t miss having to carry a gun and constantly keep an eye out for clankers.

After a day of approving supply drops, running reports, and the pendant lightly caressing his chest with every slight sway, he was back on the bus home. A man scowled at him from among the crowd; some people would never see the clones as anything more than meat-droids undeserving of even the life they were given, but the pendant mocked that man’s ideas from behind Tup’s shirt. It was a gift of love freely given to him and he was worthy,

When he returned to his apartment Aurelie was still at work, not getting off until late. As he waited for water to boil he straightened up around the place, clearing dust from the nooks it always returned to settle and gathered laundry. When he came to the bed in their room he came to a spot by the bed and stopped, considered, and opened a drawer to reveal a medium sized case which he deposited neatly on Aurelie’s side of the bed. He already had the necklace, it never hurt to be proactive in terms of their play. 

Half an hour later dinner was had and a portion of it was squared away in the fridge with a reminder to reheat it and enjoy and Tup was ready to meet a few of the boys at 79’s. As he changed from his work wear into something light blue and more casual, the afternoon sun caught the silver pendant resting on the tan skin of his breast bone, dying it almost the same shade of pink- before he could finish that thought a beep from his comm sounded informing him that his taxi had arrived outside.

20 minutes, a few levels down, and a familiar neon sign later, Tup was walking into a familiar bar. Nothing had changed about the place, only now armour and dress greys were a rare sight to be seen as the open opportunity for individuality to flourish among the clones led to some, interesting, experiments in style. ‘Speaking of which,’ thought Tup as a discordant but jovial chorus of his name called him over to a table in the corner. Fives, Jesse, Kix, Rex, Waxer, Boil, Cody, and even Wolffe, to his surprise, sat there having already gotten a small headstart on happy hour. It wasn’t a full reunion, others still at work or spread across the galaxy exploring life, but it was always nice to see familiar faces.

They took their time and paced themselves drinking, it was still early and they didn’t have to run off in an hour to prepare for a campaign and weren’t shotgunning a train of shots to try and forget one. Some of them had to be able to operate tomorrow morning though and they parted as the night lowered it’s curtain over day; Jesse and Kix remained however to scope out some of the ladies coming in with the party crowds.

As good as the times spent together were, Tup silently willed the air-taxi to carry him away faster through the legendary Coruscant traffic and back home. He’d worn the necklace, the empty place it would otherwise occupy obvious, if she hadn’t noticed then she would certainly see the familiar box he’d left resting by her pillow. Stars he was ready, the anticipation had built all day, the secret only he kept feeding his need. He was thrumming for whatever Aurelie had to give him.

The taxi stopped and he cursed the second it took for the payment to transfer, the minute in the elevator, the short march down the hall, and the door code he had to spend time punching in-

The entry was dark with the exception of a string of pink fairy lights strung along the wall and leading around the corner to their room. He grinned and, remembering to turn back and lock the door when he was already halfway across the room, soon came to the closed panel that marked their space. He knocked, “May I come in mistress?”

“Enter, darling.” A high, breathy voice answered.

As the door opened Tup entered the threshold and lowered himself to his knees, his hands finding their place on his lap as he gazed upon the shining woman perched on the edge of their bed (somehow, someway, his girlfriend, a part of his brain never ceased obsessing). She regarded him warmly, “Have you been a good boy today Tup? You took your necklace and I really hope it didn’t make you do anything naughty.”

“I was very good, mistress, just for you.” His voice was breathy and quiet, he had been good, and he anticipated his reward. His eyes drank in the milky skin that clothed the leopardess in repose before him, partially obscured by the long, wavy strands of pearly blonde hair.

“Oh I know Tup, you’re such a good boy. You wake me up with kisses, make sure I have food to eat when I work late, and you were so considerate to get our box of toys out for me. I don’t know where to begin, but good boys deserve to be rewarded, isn’t that right my beautiful boy?” 

Aurelie’s voice caressed his every synapse as he breathed in air that still held the trace of a burn from a heavy incense and he was already in a state. Her words of praise had passed straight down from his ears to his cock, bringing him to a full erection from the half mast he’d been sailing at since walking through the front door. “Yes, please mistress, yes.” If it sounded like he was begging, Tup didn’t care. Her soft thighs were resting atop one another, hiding from him what he’d been craving all day. Just one simple shift was all it would take to reveal to him where she was no doubt already soft, sweet, and wet.

Her legs uncrossed, but she stood instead of spreading wider and came to stand before him, her curl-crowned mound a tease before him that turned his need to a desperate clamour within him. He held still, eyes glued to hers as she leaned down to him and brought her pillowy lips to kiss him, one hand coming up to cradle his cheek and the other fiddles with his collar for the necklace she’d gifted him. His hands were curled hard on his lap, restraining himself from the urge to reach out and touch; being so, so good and waiting.

Drawing the pendant along the chain away from Tup’s racing heart, Aurelie held it between them and teased: “Is this what you want Tup? Do you want to eat my pussy until you’re begging for me to fuck you, until you cum in me? Or maybe I’ll ride that handsome face of yours all night and let you cum in my mouth while you’re hard at work.” Tup could only manage a tortured moan, the pictures being painted in his head making him dizzy. She lightly laughed and graciously accepted that as her answer, gently leading him across the floor as she walked backwards with the chain still in her hand, him crawling on all fours after her. When she returned to the bed she sat as he looked up at her with lust and adoration.

Still holding the pendant, she slowly drew her legs apart, raising one to rest on the bed so her pussy and the glorious pink of her vulva were wide open on display for Tup in his current position. Aurelie considered the pendant again for a moment. “I’m glad I found that artist, it’s a wonderful likeness, isn’t it darling?” From the petal-like folds of her labia minora to the majora that protected them and the unique hood that shadowed her marvelous clit, it couldn’t belong to anyone else. The highest honour Tup felt was being lucky enough to be the one person allowed to worship it. 

“Stars yes, mistress!” He agreed emphatically and Aurelie laughed lightly again and let the necklace fall back into its place from her fingers. 

“Well, come and get your reward Tup.” He gladly obliged. 

🍑🍑🍑

So yeah, Tup as a Sub wears a necklace of his girlfriend’s vulva when he really wants to be her good boy (; It also helps that it’s really pretty ✨👀✨

Also sorry if this is a little off, this wasn’t even alpha read, let alone beta read.

Aurelie is one of a few OC’s I’ve used in my daydreams, she may make another appearance in another story if I think she’ll fit! I may try and do some art too…

As for the boys at the bar, I came up with ideas for what they’re up to now and may either write other Kinktober stuff in this AU, or do some drabbles later (though I could include the Kinktober stuff in an AU drabble, right?). I didn’t include it in the story though because I felt like it would disturb the flow too much. I’ll probably detail the AU in another post if I do end up doing that.

Kinktober works so far

Masterlist

[collecting-stories]

Tim McGraw - John B Routledge

Request: No.

A/N: This literally just popped in my head the other day when I was working through a writer’s block. 

The TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰...when you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me✰

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

You weren’t sure if it was homesickness or something else entirely but you felt like you were in a fog as you unpacked a semester’s worth of clothing and personal belongings, trying to make your side of the dorm look a little more like your room back home. The dorm wasn’t very big, one loft bed on the right that you claimed immediately and a bed on risers that your roommate was sitting on, trying to fold all the clothes that she hadn’t bothered to fold before when she was emptying out her drawers. 

“I might go take a look around campus,” you suggested. Summer had been cut short this year and you couldn’t deny that the thought of facing another September without John B was weighing on you. It shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t help the unavoidable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

You’d thought about telling him, wrote everything down in a letter and sat with it for a long time. He was just a summer crush, a temporary love that you let you let go every September, this time shouldn’t have been any different. Except this time you hadn’t left to go back to Pennsylvania, you’d left the Outer Banks but stayed in North Carolina, settling in Chapel Hill for your freshman year of college. 

-

There were plenty of perks to being a touron, despite what the islanders thought. Being a touron meant reinventing yourself, even for just a summer. You could be whoever you wanted to be, no one would know any different. Most summers, every one since you were fifteen, you reinvented yourself into the same beach-loving, party-going, John B-dating summertime pogue that you wished you could be year round. 

Whether he dated other girls during the months that you were back in Pennsylvania you didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. It was only three months that you were there but it was three months of John B’s attention unwavering and you took it because you liked him so much. 

“I’m telling you, it broke down,” John B insisted, his VW Bus pulled off the side of the road, hood popped up. It was dusk out, the warm glow of the setting sun washing everything in oranges and pinks. You were sitting in the driver’s seat like he’d instructed, waiting to start the car and hit the gas when he said to. 

“Seems kind of coincidental, don’t you think?” You said, opening the door and turning to sit sideways in your seat as John B came around the side. 

“Coincidental how?” He asked, laying his hands over your bare thighs, running them down to your knees and back up to the hem of your shorts. 

You pushed his hands away and laughed, “well I just so happen to tell you that I can’t hang out tonight because I have dinner with my grandparents and your car just so happens to break down.” 

“I have no control over the Twinkie.” He replied, trying to look as innocent as possible as he smiled at you, “but you should probably let your grandparents know you’ll be late.” 

“Their gonna kill me JB.” You insisted as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. John B’s hands rested just above your knees, his eyes on you as you dialled the phone, clearly unconcerned about the ‘broken down’ car. “Hi, mamam...I know, I, my friend’s car broke down so we’re just waiting for a tow truck...no, not a boy, my friend Kiara. Okay, I’m sorry. Yeah, love you too.” 

With the phone hung up, John B slipped his hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the seat as you laughed. He bent over so that he toss you over his shoulder and you yelped in surprise as he lost his footing backing up and dropped you. 

“Shit!” He cursed, dropping down next to you, “are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay,” you promised, letting him help you up, leaning against the side of the car as John B crouched to inspect the cut on your knee. 

“Come on,” he pushed the back door open and guided you inside the car, helping you sit down on the floor, leaning against the back seat and the pillows that John B had tossed in there for your picnic today. “I think Kie put a first aid kit in one of these,” John B said, kneeling on the floor to check in the cubbies. 

“The one on the right.” You replied, “it’s really alright JB, you just brought me all the way out here to kill me.” You joked. 

“Not exactly the plan I had.” 

“So you admit it,” you said, “you did have a plan?” 

John B kneeled over to you, first aid in hand. “Yeah, getting as much time with you as I could.” He replied as he cleaned the wound, the stinging of the alcohol making you bite your lip. Once he’d bandaged the cut he tossed the first aid kit back behind him and leaned over you, “how ruined would you say the mood is?”

“Was there a mood to ruin?” You teased, pulling him into a kiss. It wasn’t the first time that John B had claimed his bus had broken down but you always played along. Letting him lead you to the back and being there with him until he decided to ‘try the car again’. 

This time would’ve been like all the others, as John B’s hands settled on your hips, pulling you close as you kissed, except the distinct red and blue lights of Kildare County’s finest shone through the windows before anything more than PG could happen. 

“Fuck this night,” John B cursed, getting up and climbing out the still open door. You fixed your hair as you climbed out after him, Peterkin getting out of the SUV parked behind you. 

“Your grandma called me, said your friend’s car broke down and it was getting dark.” Peterkin announced, “you got a tow coming John B?”

“Ugh, I was just about to call them.” He lied. 

“Why don’t you give it a go? I got cables if you need to jump it.” She said. 

John nodded, knowing he was caught in the lie and going around the front to put down the hood. You stepped back by Peterkin, too flushed to look her in the eye as John B climbed in the front seat and turned the car on, the engine coming to life with no problem at all. “Must’ve just been a hiccup.” He said, turning to look back at Peterkin. 

“Must’ve been.” She nodded. “Get yourselves home.”

-

You’d been to the quad before with John B but it felt like a whole other life, walking around now. You were too afraid to ask but you’d been dying to as the summer drew to an end, did he love you too? Had the summers that you spent together meant as much to him as they did to you? You didn’t want to ask and feel foolish when he told you that it was just a summer thing to keep busy. You didn’t want him to know you loved him if he didn’t love you back. 

Your phone chimes in your pocket and you pulled it out, a text from your new roommate coming up in notifications. 

-some guy is at our dorm looking for you, said his name is John B.- 

You were positive you half-sprinted/half-power walked back to the dorm, hands trembling and heart pounding at the thought that John B was in Chapel Hill, in your dorm. You had told Kiara where you were going for college so you assumed she’d told John B. 

You got back to the dorm, your roommate opening the door just as you reached for the handle. “Hey,” she grinned at you, stepping into the hallway, “I’m heading down to the caf, I’ll be like, a while.” 

“Thanks.” You slipped in passed her and shut the door. And there was John B, back to you as he stood at your desk. He put something down and you realized he’d been holding the picture of the two of you from three summers ago that you had framed. “Hey-“

“Hey,” he said, turning around to look at you. 

“I’m sorry about leaving, I can explain,” you started to say but he cut you off. 

“I know, I got your letter. Your grandma said she found it under your bed after you left and dropped it off at my place.” He pulled the well worn envelope out of his back pocket and held it up so you could see it. His name scrawled across the front, “of course, I had to listen to her ‘I don’t like you fooling around with my granddaughter’ speech too, but it was pretty worth it.” 

“You read the letter?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you really thought I didn’t love you too?” 

“I was scared you wouldn’t. I mean, we only saw each other in the summer.” You admitted. 

“Yeah, and I spent every day in between waiting for you to come back.” He replied. “So you’re here for good?”

“I’ll be North Carolina for a while, yeah.” 

“Good, we can make up for all the lost time.” 

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts  @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @bbeauttyybbx

[viastro]

cotton candy | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and soonyoung go to an amusement park just to eat the food.

ミ★ genre: first confessions, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 1,169

ミ★ pairings: soonyoung x female reader

ミ★ notes: it’s been a while since i wrote a oneshot uhhhhh i am sO sorry NHSBDAFHBEAGEKHR i hope you guys like this tho, it’s not one of my best but it’s pretty fluffy so i hope that’s epic. i’m trying to get back into writing oneshots every night but i’m absolutely a shithead so don’t let your hopes get too high :D

Your smile. It always manages to make his heart twinge with happiness, even on dark days. 

Your laugh. The sound brings a feeling similar to that of winning a video game, joy. If he’s able to make that beautiful sound escape your lips? It’s even better.

You. Your presence alone is like relief. Coming home after a long day of work and being able to change out of the professional attire and into some sweats. You bring comfort to Soonyoung.

That’s why he’s fondly watching as you buy cotton candy, specifically asking for the pink and blue one. You turn and give him an excited thumbs up, to which he lets out a small smile and returns the gesture. He looks around the amusement park, listening to the mixed sounds which ranges from music, children screaming, and adults hollering, there’s truly no in-between. 

“I’ve collected the goods!” Soonyoung turns his attention back towards you, grinning as you hand him the pink cotton candy. He opens his mouth to take a bite when you stop him with your hand, giving him a look that he’s unable to decipher. “What?”

“I wanna take a picture of us with the cotton candy first! They’re so round and pretty.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, and you slap his shoulder, causing him to let out a laugh. You hold out your phone, immediately sporting a big happy smile as you hold up your cotton candy. A smile automatically breaks out onto Soonyoung’s face as well, and you snap a couple photos. Soonyoung tries to bite your cotton candy in one of the photos, to which your expression turns into one of horror. 

“BAHAHA!! OH MY GOD!” He exclaims as he takes your phone, looking at your face in the picture.

He laughs about the photo for so long, that you manage to sneak a piece of his cotton candy due to him not paying attention. Once he calms down, he swipes at a stray tear falling from his eye, finally taking a piece of the sugary snack and placing it onto his tongue. The sweetness fills Soonyoung’s senses, and he lets out a small sound of approval.

“Good, right?” Soonyoung nods, giving you a thumbs up. You smile as the two of you eat in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's presence. He keeps sneaking glances at you, noticing the way you slightly dance whenever you eat another piece of the cotton candy. His eyes sparkle when he sees you smile happily at the taste of the treat. 

“Are you going to finish yours?” You ask, and Soonyoung snaps out of his daze, giving you a look. 

“You’re an actual cotton candy monster.” 

“And what about it!” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, before handing you the last half of his cotton candy. Your eyes widen happily, before quickly finishing it. 

“Thank you Soonie!” He chuckles, reaching out and ruffling the top of your head. “Of course, yn.” 

“Let’s go look at the other desserts.” You state with a determined look on your face, standing up and walking away without another glance towards him. Soonyoung smiles, nodding his head and following after you. 

As the sun sets, the sky turns into colors similar to that of the cotton candy you and Soonyoung ate earlier that day. The warm air feels like a nice blanket, trying to lull him to sleep as they walk out of the amusement park with full stomachs and happy hearts. The two of you spent the last few hours stuffing your faces with as much fried food and borderline diabetic desserts. 

Soonyoung clutches the polaroid he took of you eating pizza in his pocket, letting out a small content sigh. He turns to you to see a small smile on your face as you look up towards the sky, finding solace in the pink and blue clouds. His heartbeat increases tenfold when you suddenly glance over at him, warmth rising to your face when you end up making direct eye contact with him. 

“Whatcha looking at, Soonie?” You ask in an attempt to start a conversation due to feeling a bit embarrassed by the eye contact. Soonyoung lets out a breath realizing that there’s no better time or place than to tell you how he feels, “You. I’m looking at you.” 

Your eyes widen at the unexpected response, and you stop walking. Soonyoung stops as well, now turning so that he’s facing you. You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you look at me when there’s a perfectly beautiful cotton candy sky right in front of you.” 

Soonyoung lets out a small laugh, feeling his heart squeeze by how fucking precious you are. He looks up at the sky, finding himself come to a conclusion that he previously thought of. 

“Cause.”

“Cause what?”

“It’s not as beautiful as you.” He answers in a soft voice. You freeze, cheeks turning even more red at the compliment. You stare into Soonyoung’s eyes, coming to the realization that he’s not joking around. His eyes have a fond look to them as he waits for your response, finding the visual of you with the cotton candy sky to be even more stunning. 

“What are you trying to say right now Soonie?” 

“I like you, yn.” Your eyes widen even more, and you turn around to see if he meant to say that to another person with the same name as you. When you see that there’s no one else around the two of you, you turn back towards Soonyoung, now pointing at yourself as you gawk at him. 

“Me?” He laughs, stepping closer and placing both hands on your shoulders. 

“Yes, you. It’s always been you yn.” You look away to try and will away the increasing heat rising to your face, and Soonyoung grins. 

soonie, the guy i’ve had a crush on for the past couple months, likes me BACK ?! ME ?! 

ME ??!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

“M-me?” Soonyoung laughs, pulling away to cover his face with his hands at how cute you are. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” You say, hitting his shoulders softly as he tries to regain his cool. After a moment of the two of you giggling, Soonyoung looks back into your eyes. 

“I like you too Soonie.” You finally answer, and he lets out a big smile. Soonyoung takes a quick glance down at your hand, reaching out and intertwining his fingers with yours. His heart practically leaps out of his chest when you let out a small squeak, finding everything about you so fucking precious. 

“Let’s head home.” 

And with that, the two of you head towards the bus stop. With you turning your head to look at your boyfriend every chance you get, while Soonyoung does the same, making eye contact with you multiple times and breaking out into a smile whenever he does. Hand in hand, the two of you walk underneath the pink and blue sky. 

Your love. Soonyoung’s come to realize that it’s almost as sweet as cotton candy.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome To Backwater (spicyhoney standalone)

Summary: Stretch isn't running away, not really.

He took the bus.

Only to end up in a little town in the middle of nowhere, meeting unusual people, dealing with unexpected happenings, what the hell is going on in this place?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

~~*~~

Read Chapter One on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch honestly wasn’t sure what state he was in anymore. Not philosophically, but literally, as in United States of etcetera. He’d drowsed off with his skull leaning against the cool glass of the bus window somewhere around three am, the drone of the wheels on asphalt lulling him and the darkness outside broken only by the brief, glaring flash of the occasional car passing by.

When he woke again the sun was high in the sky and the view outside was a blur of endless green. Fields of it as far as the eye could see, corn, maybe, he wasn’t up on all the traditional crops of the Aboveground or at least not enough to know them by sight.

His legs were cramped from being curled up on the seat next to him all night and Stretch shifted with a grimace to put his sneakers back on the floor. Didn’t exactly uncramp him, he was too tall for that, but it did change the angle so, hey, at least a small favor.

The rest of the bus was more empty than not, the other passengers mostly sitting on their own, sleeping or reading or playing on their phones. None of them gave him even a passing glance and that was fine by him. Probably got all their stares in last night when they first got on the bus. There’d been plenty of side-eyes and outright stares as Stretch made his way down the aisle to an empty seat. No surprise there, Monsters had been on the surface for a couple of years now, but it wasn’t like there was enough of them to make a sighting anything less than exotic for Humans. He was more grateful that no one tried to talk to him, eager to make a Monster Friend like they were a fucking Pokémon to add to their collection.

He’d met plenty of Humans like that over the years; put them off politely and they only tried harder, put them off rudely and they got loudly pissed. Couldn’t win that game and eventually Stretch got tired of trying.

He let his head fall back on the padded headrest with a sigh, closing his sockets. Not much point in thinking about that right now, that was the sort of shit that landed him on this bus.

His grungy backpack was on the floor, overstuffed to the point of the zipper straining and the sleeve of a spare hoodie trailing out of the side like an extra arm. Stretch managed to contort himself enough to reach down and dig his headphones out of the side pocket, relieved to find them charged for once. He poked the earbuds into his audial canals, heh, earbuds with no ears, it sounded like the start of a bad joke, and turned on a playlist. Soothing eighties, that seemed to fit in with the scenery outside. Or maybe not; from the occasional run-down barn the bus sped past, their peeling paint still advertising Mail Pouch chewing tobacco, this place didn’t seem to have crawled out of the sixties yet.

He was barely through the first song when the sorrowful refrain about the boys of summer was cut off by his phone letting out a persistent buzz. His brother’s picture popped up on the lock screen and it was probably his imagination making that sweet, smiling face look so judgmental.

Probably.

His thumb hesitated over the answer button before decisively settling on decline and he’d barely settled back into his seat with the melodious voice of Don Henley when it started up again. He let it go this time, every short burst of buzzing echoing through his skull until it stopped. It didn’t ring again.

By then the song had changed to ‘No One Is To Blame’, Stretch went ahead and skipped it. He didn’t really need to chew on any irony right now, it would kill his appetite for breakfast.

~~*~~

It was a few more hours before the bus pulled off for a pit stop and by then, Stretch was ready to start chewing on his chair arm. Might’ve if he thought the seats had been cleaned anytime in the past decade. He didn’t have a stomach, exactly, but they still needed to eat to replenish their magic and the hollow gnawing of his hunger was making him lightheaded.

Come to think about it, he wasn’t even sure when he’d last eaten. Sometime before yesterday morning, maybe even the night before when he’d sat picking at the meal his brother spent so much time making, trying not to see the worry in those starry-eye lights, silently hoping Blue didn’t say anything past ‘good night’. Shouldn’t have wasted the wish, not like they ever came true, anyway. The stars he’d wanted so much to see lived up to the ‘twinkle twinkle’ advertisement, the ‘wish upon a star’ part, not so much.

When he’d stuffed his backpack before heading off to the station, he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to even grab a granola bar or a bag of chisps. All he’d been thinking about was getting it done, getting out, down to the station to hop the first bus going anywhere.

That bus rolled to a stop with a loud hiss of compressed air, the bored-looking driver yanking the door lever open. Stretch let all the Humans get off the bus first, shuffling their sleepy, dead-eyed way down the aisle as they groaned and stretched, many of them already reaching for cigarettes. The last thing he needed was a rough elbow from some impatient jackass who couldn’t wait another minute to load up on gas station chili dogs for the trip. He waited until the last Human was almost off before making his own way down, the laces of his untied sneakers trailing behind him as he shuffled his way out.

After hours in the air conditioning, the humid air was almost stifling, the smell of gasoline thick along with the smog of exhaust.

The gas station was about as unimpressive as the barns they’d passed. No shiny neon signs here advertising regular and premium below a well-lit emblem of a Shell or a BP. Not even a bright red ‘Kum and Go’ to make adults snicker quietly above confused children’s heads. The ancient pumps looked as if their first service was to the Model T and every time the door opened it was heralded by the loud, rickety clang of a cow bell.

He was itching for a cigarette of his own, but not on an empty stomach. Might be out of luck for chili dogs after all in a place like this, but there was still hope. According to the travel guide he’d filched from the bus depot back in Ebott, this was the exact sort of place that might carry such exotic foods as pasties or whoopie pies. The guide didn’t have any pictures, but Stretch was hungry enough to take a chance.

He made his way across broken asphalt studded with cigarette butts and old chewing gum, already hungrily ready for at least a Snickers bar. Maybe that hunger was why Stretch didn’t see the short guy coming out the door, completely oblivious to the clanging warning of the cowbell as he rammed right into him and nearly knocked the overflowing paper sack right out of his hands. Both of them grabbed for it automatically, fumbling to keep from dropping it and instead the brown paper tore from top to bottom and sent a shower of cans tumbling down to the sidewalk.

“fuck!” Loudly said in two voices, very nearly in unison. Stretch was already on his hands and knees collecting silver cans with ‘Coors’ scrawled across their condensation-dewed sides. The shorter guy took a minute longer, bracing himself on a cane as he slowly reached for a can that’d rolled over to an overflowing pedestal ashtray.

“man, i’m sorry,” Stretch panted, snatching up the last can that was attempting to set a world record escape to the gas pumps.

“ain’t your fault,” the short guy grunted as he struggled back to his feet. “bag was damp from the beers.”

Now that Stretch wasn’t trying to herd cans, he got a better look and what he saw froze him in his tracks. He couldn’t not stare, not when his beer bumper was another Monster and more than that, another skeleton. Which was bizarre, Stretch only knew two other skeleton Monsters aside from his own brother and this was absolutely not one of them. None of them had jagged, sharky teeth and blood-red eye lights, a nasty looking crack running narrowly through one socket.

Nor did they need a cane to help them along on beer runs and the other skeleton was struggling to gather the cans up in his arms. He tucked two into his jacket pockets and tried jimmying the others into the crook of his elbow, but one of them squirting free and launched into the air.

Stretch caught it before it got too accustomed to flight, barely managing not to drop the already dented can back on the pavement. “here, let me help,” Stretch said.

The other skeleton was already shaking his head, reaching for the can, “nah, i live right around the corner, i’ll stack ‘em by the curb and make another trip.”

Yeah, because half the people from the bus wouldn’t wander out of the station and take advantage of the offering of free beer, that wasn’t gonna work. “at least let me get another bag from the clerk.”

The skeleton snorted aloud, “mitch don’t hand out bags, brought that one myself from my store.” He hesitated and added, reluctantly, “but if you really wanna give me a hand, the two of us can carry ‘em pretty easy.”

The bus was only on a fifteen-minute stop, gas, grub, and go. Anyone not in their seat got left behind according to his ticket stub, stated boldly in oversized text, and there probably wasn’t another bus station where he could catch a ride for fifty miles.

Stretch gave the street they were on a glance. They were in the middle of a shaggy, rundown sort of town, this gas station was probably the only one around. Barely he could see a plain, unlit sign on the building on the other corner that said starkly, ‘Groceries’. The local restaurant was probably called ‘Eats’, everything was fried up in the same bacon grease poured out from an old coffee can, even the pie. It was a screaming advertisement for the kind of Podunk town where everybody knew everyone, and outsiders were looked at with jaundiced suspicion.

And a Monster lived here.

Stretch took a couple more beers that were threatening to make another escape from the other skeleton’s arm and shrugged. “lead the way.”

It was slow going, not only because Stretch’s legs were about as long as the other guy was tall, but the other skeleton had a pretty bad limp, grunting with each step he took. Stretch hoped guiltily he hadn’t made anything worse by nearly knocking him on his ass, but if he had, the guy didn’t complain.

True to his word, they didn’t have far to go. The skeleton led the way towards that grocery sign, unlocking the door with a heavy, old-fashioned key that looked like it would be more at home in a castle rather than a grocery store in midwestern Cornsville. He pulled the door open enough for Stretch to grab it, another cowbell jangling overhead like an epidemic, and he held it open while both of them shuffled inside into a renewed rush of blissful air conditioning.

The grocery store didn’t exactly live up to its name. Maybe it was more a grocery shop or even ‘market’ with no ‘super’ tacked in front. The groceries consisted pretty much of a few rows of tall racks and a couple coolers, the shelves lined with cans, toilet paper, and other random dry goods. There was a wide counter by the door with a register sitting on it that’d probably been there for a hundred years and an incongruous credit card scanner nestled against its side.

The skeleton dropped his beers on the counter with a clatter of aluminum. He hopped up on a tall stool and popped open the cash drawer, shoving a couple bills into it as he waved a hand at the scarred wood of the bare countertop. “you c’n set the beers here. help yourself ta one.”

Beer wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking about for breakfast but Stretch popped the tab anyway and took a long drink, unable to help a grimace at the bitter taste. The other skeleton let out a chuckle that deteriorated into a phlegmy cough, grabbing his own can and gulping down half of it in one swig.

Stretch looked around the shop, at the cans of beans and pickle jars with a fine layer of dust, out the front window where the view of the town was obscured by a couple years’ worth of blurry fingerprints. “you know any place i can get a room around here?”

The skeleton raised both brow bones. He finished off his beer and let out a mellow belch as he popped the tab on another. “planning on hanging around for a while?”

“maybe,” Stretch said, then shrugged. “probably. if i can find a job.”

The other skeleton considered that. His phalanges were sharp at the tips, chipping new little pits into the countertop as he drummed his fingers on it. He came to some sort of conclusion, his toothy grin widening, “tell ya what, i might be able to help ya out with both. you mind the store in the mornings,” he patted the countertop and ran his fingers lovingly over the ancient register, “and ya can stay in the spare room over the shop. ain’t much, but there’s a bed an’ a window. might be enough for a while.”

It sounded like a pretty good deal. A little too good and Stretch squinted suspiciously. “why?”

That grin soured. “let’s say ya got a trustworthy face. looks a lot more like mine than anyone else around these parts, too.”

That made Stretch wince a little, confirming what he already expected. They were the only Monsters in town and from the unkempt look of the store, the locals weren’t that keen about having them around. Be stupid to stay in a place where he knew he wasn’t wanted, even stupider than letting the bus go on without him.

In his pocket his phone buzzed loudly, making him jump. It buzzed once, twice, then Stretch reached in and pressed the silence button. Then he held out a hand to the other skeleton. “deal.”

To his surprise, the skeleton gave his hand a long look, studying it. Nothing to see but plain bone, his own fingertips blunted, and with a yellowish nicotine stain between the first and second knuckles. Stretch almost pulled it awkwardly back but before he could, the skeleton reached out and took it, shaking it almost painfully hard. “deal. guess now that i’m your boss, you’ll need my name. you can call me red.”

“stretch.”

The other skeleton, Red, laughed loudly and slapped his good knee, “yeah, that suits ya.” He hopped off the stool and limped around the countertop. “c’mon upstairs, there’s a shower, too. might want to put it to good use. welcome to backwater, kid, hope you stay a while.”

~~*~~

Red’s dour description of the room wasn’t quite accurate. For one, the room was larger than Stretch pictured, nearly the size of the shop beneath it. There was a bed, yeah, but also a card table and a couple chairs. In one corner there was a television so ancient there was a set of elderly rabbit ear antenna on top. But the whole setup was less dusty than the store downstairs, like maybe the previous tenant wasn’t that long gone.

Stretch didn’t ask. Sometimes not knowing made it easier to sleep at night.

The promised shower was in a bathroom only slighter larger than a closet, the hot water heater groaning audibly and pouring out a grudging trickle through the showerhead that spent alternating minutes as lava hot and icy cold. Despite that, it felt good to rinse away the layer of road dust he’d accumulated, soaping up with a leftover sliver of soap he found.

When he got out of the shower, a threadbare towel around his pelvis offering limited protection to his modesty, there was a steaming bowl on the table. Filled with a thick stew, blobs of meat floating in a greasy gravy, and a hunk of bread with it, along with another beer.

Stretch wolfed it all down hungrily, easing the last of his physical discomforts, then flopped down on the narrow bed. Red had told him to take the day to settle in and he could start work tomorrow. That sounded like advice well worth taking. He had a place, he had a job, and he had his phone on silent. He could text his bro tomorrow.

Yeah.

He turned on the television, but no matter how he moved the antenna, the only show that came in was static. He switched it back off, contemplated Netflix on his phone, and then decided that sleep was probably the number one choice for entertainment today.

The mattress was thin, the springs threatening to poke through the worn layers of cushion, but right now it might as well be stuffed with angel wings. Stretch closed his sockets and let sleep claim him.

~~*~~

Stretch wasn’t sure of the time when he woke, the former sunshine streaming in turned to a darkness deeper than he’d seen since they came out from under the mountain. No hint of bitter moonlight crept in through the curtainless window.

He leaned up on an elbow and tried to kick the tangled blanket around his legs loose, his sleep-tainted thoughts slow in coming back online.

When his mind finally booted up, Stretch flopped back on the sagging mattress with a groan. He was in the little town of Backwater, that was right, in the room above Red’s shop. An unfamiliar place, that was all, the only ghosts around here were his own memories, the only sound his own breathing. He wondered sleepily what had woken him, giving the picture window that took up half of the side wall a glance, and went utterly still.

Eyes. A deep, unrelenting gleam of crimson coals staring in at him from the other side of the glass. Rus couldn’t move, terror welling up thick and rancid, a primordial fear rising into his throat from his soul, shivering its way like a sin down his spine.

That crimson gaze flickered in a blink and Stretch let out a hoarse cry, his paralysis broken enough for him to scramble back, heels kicking at the covers as he cowered against the wall, waiting for the crash of breaking glass. Long minutes of nothing ticked by, his panic slowly fading, and when Stretch opened his sockets again, there was nothing outside the window but blackness, not so much as the yellowish aura of a streetlamp peeking in.

“fuck.” Stretch rubbed his forearm over his sockets, blinking hard, and looked again. Nothing, exactly as it should be outside a second-story window. He sank back against the mattress, swallowing down the hysterical little laugh that tried to bubble its way out.

“jus’ a dream,” he mumbled aloud and hearing his own voice was steadying. A dream, yeah, an eerie little hallucination brought on by too much beer and too little food, all wrapped up in this strange place. Stretch dragged the thin blanket back over him and rolled to his side, defiantly giving the window his back as he settled in to sleep. Tomorrow was gonna be a busy day and he was gonna need all the rest he could get.

He fell easily back into a weary, dreamless sleep and never noticed that crimson stare returning, gazing through the glass like deep red lamplight cutting through the darkness.

-tbc

[suttttton]

Kindred Spirit//Crumbling World

Written for @bookish-bi-christian as part of @tma-valentines-exchange!

Happy Valentines Day, Ray! Enjoy your nostalgic timsasha angst!

~*~*~*~*~

In a windowless basement I look across my desk And your smile And your stupid hair And the golden rays of your eyes Become my sun

Tim stares at the poem for a long time. He’d found it on top of a little box he’d always known was in his desk, but hadn’t looked at for over a year now. It was full of cards with little notes from Sasha, printed-out photos of the two of them together. And this love poem.

He remembers when Sasha gave him the poem. He’d just gotten back from a follow-up adventure that had taken him out of the Archives for a couple of days. It had been on his desk when he came back, and he’d read it, grinning the whole way as Sasha determinedly avoided eye contact.

“Not a word!” she’d said when he’d opened his mouth to thank her for it. “I know it’s stupid and cheesy, I just—” her face had been fully red by this point. “I don’t know. I missed you.” 

He didn’t think it was cheesy. He’d been touched. Even as he teased Sasha about ‘the golden rays of his eyes’ for a week straight.

He remembers that. 

But it doesn’t—

He doesn’t—

When the thing that wasn’t Sasha had mentioned her new boyfriend, it hadn’t seemed odd to Tim. He hadn’t felt jealous, or, or hurt. Why would he? He and Sasha weren’t that close. They were work friends, and that was all.

But before that, Sasha had written him a love poem. She’d written him a love poem because he was gone for two days and she missed him. That evening, he remembers, they’d gone back to his place together and gotten wine drunk while watching The Princess Bride. That was Sasha’s favorite movie, which Tim knows because he’d gone through a whole phase of saying, “As you wish,” whenever Sasha made any request of him. Because what he really meant was—

But— 

Tim starts taking everything else out of the box, spreading it across his desk. He starts with the cards, both of them written in Sasha’s messy cursive.

First is the card Sasha had given him for his last birthday. The printed message says, “With Sympathy, to let you know that thoughts and prayers are with you in your time of sorrow.” The inside is crammed with her tiny script, paragraph after paragraph, hundreds of words. It was titled, “A Eulogy for 33.” On the other page, written much larger, “Long live 34! Love, Sasha.”

She’d taken him out to dinner, and when she’d given him the card, he’d insisted on reading the whole thing out loud, even as she’d complained. She was laughing, even as she said, “Tim, I will leave if you don’t stop it.”

Tim stares at that “Love,” for a long time, trying to suss out any deeper meaning from it. Not such a strange thing to write on your friend’s birthday card. She’d cared about him, but he already knew that, didn’t he? The poem said as much.

He moves on to the other card, a Valentine’s day card. There’s a picture of three chickens on the front, and inside it says, “Hope you have a happy Val-HEN-tine’s day!” It was a tradition, between them, bad cards presented with exaggerated flourishes, signed with sickeningly pet names. Tim would sign his, “Your sweetest sugar,” and Sasha would write, “Love, your honeybee <3”

On the inside of this one, Sasha had simply written, “I love you Tim”. Serious and sincere. Tim tries to remember how he felt, reading it. He doesn’t remember finding it strange at all. It had just felt nice. Warm.

He turns his attention to the photos. None of them are polaroids, because of course they aren’t. But they are something. Memories. Evidence. 

The first photo is from the yearly holiday party. Tim is wearing antlers. His arm is around Sasha, and she’s smiling. They’d gone to the party together. But they always went to the party together, and the photo isn’t especially recent. They hadn’t moved to the Archives yet.

Next is a photo of the two of them at a wedding. Tim can’t remember whose. Some distant cousin of Sasha’s. There had been a kitschy photo booth at the reception, and the two of them had taken far too long playing with the props before finally settling down for the photo. They’re wearing oversized sunglasses, a feather boa is looped around their shoulders. Tim had been Sasha’s date then, too. It had been normal for them, going together to parties and events.

The third photo shows them on their first day in the Archives. They’d taken lots of pictures that day, with Jon and Martin and the infamous dog, but this one is just the two of them. Sasha is hugging him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. Close, because they were close. Best friends. And—

The final is from a research mission they’d gone on together. Tim isn’t in it. It’s just Sasha, sitting on a bench at a bus stop. The sun is just beginning to set in the background, the sky turning from blue to white. He’d taken it because she looked beautiful, and he’d gotten it printed because—

Because he loved her.

He had loved her. Every moment he’d spent with her, he had loved her. How could he have forgotten? He had loved her, and she’d been dead for more than a year now, and in all that time he hadn’t thought about it even once.

He looks at the poem again. Sasha had loved him, too.

He wonders what else he’s forgotten, what else that thing had turned his mind away from. Had there been something, between him and Sasha? That would make sense, wouldn’t it, if they’d loved each other? He doesn’t remember anything like that, but… he isn’t sure he trusts his memories, anymore.

The last thing in the box is a friendship bracelet, made from colorful embroidery thread. Sasha made it, during that first week in the Archives, when they were annoyed with Jon and took whatever chances they could to slack off. “Pink for you,” she’d said. “Green for me. And brown for both of us.” The colors clashed horribly, but Tim still liked the way they looked together. At the time, Tim’s hair had been pink (”your stupid hair,” Sasha’s poem had said). Sasha wore a green cardigan nearly every day. And both of their eyes were brown.

The thing that killed Sasha had blue eyes. How had Tim not noticed that?

He picks up the bracelet, ties it around his wrist. Looking at it makes his heart seize up with grief for Sasha, for something he still doesn’t know how to name.

Good.

***

Tim has one tape of Sasha’s voice, and he listens to it, over and over, rewinding and rewinding. He listens to the cadence of their interactions, the closeness that had existed between them.

On the tape, Tim jokes about them being love interests, and Sasha rebuffs him. Tim remembers this, remembers feeling—frustrated? Sad? No. This happened at the beginning of their time in the Archives, before the cards, before the poem,  but after countless nights out and nights in, parties spent paying attention to no one but each other, countless jokes and secrets and traumas shared between them.

He’d loved her.

And even as he listens to her laughing him off, he knows that she loved him.

There was more to it than this tape. Something existed between them, something precious, something wonderful, and he can’t—

He can’t remember what it was.

***

“Martin,” Tim says, cornering him in the break room one morning. It’s early, but Martin gets to work early, these days. Jon is gone, but what else is new?

“Christ,” Martin swears as he spins around, spilling a few drops of tea on the floor as he swerves. “You scared me. I didn’t think anyone else was here yet.”

Tim shrugs. “I have a question. About Sasha.”

“I—Okay,” Martin says, sobering.

“Do you—” Tim doesn’t know how to ask. It seems like such a trivial thing to be asking about. Sasha is dead, and none of them can remember her face or her voice, and Tim wants to know—what? If she had a crush on him? He twists the friendship bracelet on his wrist, steadies himself. “You were with us every day. Did you ever notice anything—romantic, between Sasha and me?”

“Not really,” Martin says.

“Do you know that, or do you just think it?” Tim asks.

Martin blinks. “What? I—” and then he pauses, as he starts thinking about it. “Oh, that’s weird,” he says, after a moment.

What?” Tim says, and his voice is too much, too desperate.

“It—She—” Martin pauses, takes a deep breath. “It’s hard, thinking of specific events. My mind keeps kind of… sliding away. But I think we used to talk about you?”

“Office gossip?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not—Sorry. That came out wrong,” Martin says. “Did—She wrote you a poem, didn’t she?”

“Yes! You remember that? Hold on—” Tim turns and returns to his desk, grabbing the poem from where it still rests on top of the box. He hands it to Martin, who smiles softly as he reads it.

“Yeah, I—I helped with this,” Martin says. “She—she wanted advice to make it worse. Which—ouch, but… I knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tim says softly. That was Sasha. Harsh without meaning to be, never quite thinking through the implications of her words. “Wait—she wanted it to be bad?”

Martin nods. “She wanted you to laugh, and to tease her about it. I mean, that was basically your love language, wasn’t it?”

“Was it?” Tim asks.

Martin hesitates. “I think so?”

Tim is silent for a long moment, staring at the poem. He twists the bracelet on his wrist again. “Were we a couple?”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” Tim repeats. “Jesus.” He sits down at the little table, frowning down at the plastic tabletop. How many times did he eat lunch here with her? “It took her face and her voice, and it can’t—I can’t let it take this. If there was something between us, I have to remember, but—” There’s nothing else he can do, is there? If these memories ever existed, they’re gone now. Stolen by the thing that killed her. He slams his hand against the table. “Damn it!” he says, blinking back tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” Martin says, softly. Tim just shakes his head, and after a moment Martin leaves.

***

Two days later, Tim sneaks into the Archive early in the morning, and there’s a new tape sitting on his desk. For a long moment, he just stares at it, anger rising in his chest. Was it from Jon? Was Jon trying to contact him, trying to send him on some mission?

No, thanks.

He picks up the tape, planning to drop it in the trash. And then he sees the note underneath it. “Tim—Listen to this!” Martin’s name at the bottom. 

Not creepy or foreboding at all, thanks Martin. Nevertheless, Tim relaxes a little. There’s a recorder on Martin’s desk, and Tim picks it up and pops the tape inside, leaning back in his chair.

The first few minutes are nothing but Martin, reading his poetry. Martin’s poems are fine, but Tim somehow doubts that’s all Martin wanted to show him. He keeps listening. And then—

The creak of a door opening. “Goodnight, Martin!” It’s Sasha’s voice. Her real voice. Sasha.

“How hard is it to knock?” Martin says, sounding pissed. “You always knock when Jon is recording.”

“That’s because Jon is my boss, recording actual work in his office. You’re in a storage closet.”

“… Fair enough,” Martin sighs.

“Speaking of Jon, are you going to make your move any time soon?”

“Wha—no!”

“Boo, why not?”

“Putting aside the fact that he hates me, he’s also my boss.”

“It’s Jon. He doesn’t have any real authority down here and he knows it.”

“Still doesn’t fix the problem where he hates me, does it? What about Tim? Are you going to make your move soon?”

Sasha hums. “I think I’m just going to leave it, actually.”

“Oh come on!”

“I just… I kind of like what we have now? We’re best friends, we share everything with each other, and we go out and get drinks, and—and there’s no expectation involved. Or—no, that’s not the right word. It’s like—you know how friendship can’t really survive romance? There’s too much passion, too much give-and-take, too much change.”

Sasha laughs then. “It sounds so unromantic, put like that,” she says. “Who wants a relationship without passion? But—It feels special. Like we’ve found a way to love each other, gently. Does that—that probably makes no sense, does it?”

“No, I—I think I understand,” Martin says. 

“It’s like we’re teetering between being in a relationship and being best friends, and I feel like if either of us acknowledge it, we’ll be forced to choose, one way or another. And this wonderful thing between us will be destroyed.”

Martin hums. “I kind of think you should talk to Tim about it anyway?”

Sasha lets out a sigh. “Maybe I will,” she says, after a long moment.

And then the tape clicks off. Tim sniffs, wiping at freshly formed tears, and remembers.

***

There was this one night, the two of them laying in bed together, fingers intertwined between them.

They were talking, softly because they were both on the verge of sleep. But Sasha kept making him laugh, and he was so happy. So happy that it didn’t quite fit inside him, so happy that he felt nearly weightless with it.

He brought her fingers up to his mouth, and she sighed softly next to him. And the unspoken thing between them felt so huge, so real, so all-encompassing.

“Sasha James,” he whispered, his voice slurring slightly with sleepiness. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“All according to plan,” she mumbled, rolling over to face him with a sly smile. “I have to earn my membership to the assassin’s guild somehow.” 

He returned her smile. And then he leaned in to kiss her, still holding her hand.

“Are you happy?” she whispered against his lips. And that was a ridiculous question, because he couldn’t stop smiling. He could nearly cry with how happy he was.

“Yes,” he said, and he felt her smile in return.

“Me too.”

[ghost-in-the-hella]

J: “Join me for a swim?” with PriceMarsh, because I can't get enough of this ship.

Some soft pricemarsh for these troubled times. Enjoy.

---

Kate says a silent prayer before she approaches the woman sitting on the beach. She suspects that Chloe’s not the praying kind, and given the way people in Blackwell and around town never seem to have a kind word to say about her she’d be surprised if anybody else spoke to God on her behalf. And maybe Chloe prefers it that way. They haven’t talked about religion much in the few weeks of their budding friendship, but she’s pretty sure that Chloe is an atheist. “What kind of God would take my dad away when I was only fourteen?” For some people, tragedy brings them closer to God. For others, it pushes them away. But Chloe doesn’t make fun of her for being religious (unlike most people at Blackwell) and Kate doesn’t try to dissuade her from her own beliefs, so they get along beautifully. Everyone has their own path to walk in life, after all.

Kate’s path leads her toward Chloe’s slumped back and bowed head as she sits in the cooling sand and the fading light.

Chloe’s head doesn’t turn as Kate approaches, even though Kate’s footsteps in the sand aren’t exactly silent. It does raise slightly in acknowledgement, however, and Kate assumes that’s as close as she’s going to get to a greeting tonight. 

Kate’s not sure how long Chloe’s been sitting there, staring out at the slow waters of the bay. Chloe had texted her three times after midnight, which Kate of course didn’t see until she woke up at eight. Kate’s texted her five times since then at careful intervals so as to not seem too concerned, and Chloe hasn’t responded to a single one of them. She even tried calling Chloe despite phone calls not being a standard part of their friendship at this point, but she didn’t try again after it went immediately to voicemail. 

Kate’s never regretted not learning to drive so much before. It’s been sort of nice, actually, since Chloe’s got her truck and loves driving. Kate not wanting to ride the bus everywhere has been a good excuse for both of them to advance their friendship beyond “casual but amiable acquaintance” to “person I actively go out of my way to spend time with.” Today, however, not being able to drive has been a serious hindrance. It’s hard to search for someone when you’re reliant on small town bus routes and schedules. Once she started to really worry about Chloe’s silence and start looking for her, it took her nearly three hours to track her down at the beach.

She stops and stands next to where Chloe’s sitting in the sand. “Hey,” she says evenly, as if she hasn’t been clawing her hair out trying to find this woman half the day. 

“Hey,” Chloe answers without looking at her.

“...I got your texts.” Chloe doesn’t respond, so Kate continues, “I didn’t see them until I woke up; I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you.”

Chloe nods thoughtfully, processing this. “My battery died. Didn’t want to go home to charge it.”

Kate can’t blame her for that. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Chloe turns to her then and looks at her with those clear blue eyes. It doesn’t seem fair that such beautiful eyes should have to hold such sadness. The light isn’t great, but Kate’s pretty sure she sees a smudge of a bruise beneath one, and that makes her stomach twist all the tighter. “Sure, whatever.” Chloe trains her eyes on the bay once more, but Kate can still feel them piercing her heart. 

Kate tucks her skirt around her legs carefully as she settles by Chloe’s side. The sand is damp and the warmth of the day is mostly gone from it. She looks at the woman beside her. She’s not wearing her beanie for once. She’s wearing short sleeves and her pale, too-thin arms are covered with goosebumps. Without even thinking, Kate removes her cardigan and drapes it over Chloe’s bare shoulders. Chloe glances at her in barely masked surprise. Kate thinks for a moment she’s going to object, but she just wraps her arms around herself and tugs the borrowed cardigan a little tighter around her shoulders.

Kate feels like she should say something, but Chloe breaks the heavy silence while she’s still trying to piece her words together. “Kinda late to come to the beach. Sun’s almost down. ‘Most everyone’s gone home.”

“I didn’t come for the beach. I came for you.”

Chloe’s brows lift then furrow. “Why.”

Because when she woke up to Chloe’s texts and saw how long ago she’d sent them, Kate had almost immediately gone into a panic spiral. Because Kate had texted and called and couldn’t reach her. Because Kate was terrified that Chloe was hurt and had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t at the junkyard or the diner, so I thought you might be here or maybe the lighthouse.”

“Not a whole lot of places to go in this town,” Chloe says, and maybe it’s a trick of the non-light but Kate would swear that her expression softened when Kate told her she’d been looking for her. “I used to come here all the time,” Chloe continues. “My dad used to take me and my friend Max here every weekend in the summer. When we got old enough, we’d take the bus by ourselves and stay here all day. We practically lived in the bay.” She chuckles softly to herself. “She - Max - used to tease me I was going to turn into a mermaid because I spent more time in the water than on the land.”

Kate can picture that. Chloe’s got long arms and longer legs, built for swimming. Her hair wouldn’t have been blue when she was a child, Kate assumes, but Kate can imagine how it would look now: blue and purple locks flowing with the waves, fanning out around her head like a soft halo. The vivid reds and greens and blues of her tattoo extra bright against the pale of her skin, all shimmering under the water and glittering with reflected light. Long fingers cupping brackish water, lean body moving through the bay like she was born to do nothing else. “Punk rock mermaid,” Kate says a bit dreamily, already picturing how she would draw her. 

Chloe huffs a small laugh. “Nah, not when I was a kid. I was a pretty big dweeb if you can believe it. Super into science, major anime nerd, drew comics, all that stuff.”

Kate can believe it, actually, but she keeps that to herself. 

The smile that had been growing on Chloe’s lips fades away. “Rach loves swimming, too. After Max left - her family moved to Seattle; same day as my dad’s funeral, can you believe that shit? - I didn’t go swimming for a long time. Probably for the best; I would’ve just drowned myself.” She picks at the cuticles of her chewed up fingernails fretfully and Kate suppresses the powerful urge to pull her into a comforting embrace and stroke her hair like her father has always done for her when she’s upset. “But Rach is a Cali girl, so even though our bay’s nothing compared to the Pacific she just has to go swimming. Like, constantly. Day and night. The girl’s blood is half salt water, I swear.”

Kate’s got this anxious bubbling in her stomach that she doesn’t know how to quell. She knows of Rachel Amber, but she doesn’t know her. She went missing last April, three months before Kate moved into the dorms. Everything she knows about Rachel she knows from the unavoidable gossip in the dorms, the graffiti scattered around town - some of it doting, most of it unrepeatably vile, and Chloe. 

She actually met Chloe because of Rachel Amber, oddly enough. Or, more precisely, she met Chloe because Rachel Amber went missing. One day Chloe happened to be hanging up missing person posters around campus while Kate was putting up flyers for the abstinence club, and when Kate saw what Chloe was posting (when she saw Chloe’s eyes) she had offered to help her distribute them. They’d gotten to talking as they worked, and by the time the posters were all hung they’d exchanged numbers.

Kate owes this friendship (this crush) to Rachel. And Rachel’s been missing for five months now. No matter how many posters they hang, no matter how many prayers Kate sends up for this lost girl to be found, she’s been missing for almost half a year. Chloe still talks about her like she expects to see her coming around the corner any minute now sometimes. Kate doesn’t know whether encouraging Chloe’s hope does more good or more harm at this point. Women who go missing for this long, beautiful young women like Rachel Amber… Kate wants to have faith in Rachel’s safety, but her mother’s been telling her horror stories about what happens to girls like her since before Kate was even old enough to understand.

“So we go swimming together a lot. Not now, obviously. But… yeah. Total punk rock mermaids.” She scoffs lightly, but Kate can hear the sorrow in her laugh. “I… I haven’t gone swimming in months. Not since she…” Chloe sighs. She shakes her head and tries to sound annoyed rather than heartbroken. “Missed the whole fucking summer. Now it’s probably too cold to swim. She’s probably been off surfing in Cali all summer, and I’ve just been staring at the bay like she’s coming in on the next boat. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic at all. You miss your friend.” Kate reaches out a tentative hand and is relieved 

when Chloe accepts her touch without so much as a flinch. 

“I miss the bay,” Chloe says suddenly. “I miss the way it felt to just run out into the waves and not give a fuck. I miss feeling weightless and small and like if I swam far enough I could step out into a pirate’s treasure cove, or on some forgotten island, and start a new life. I miss feeling free.”

Kate’s never been swimming in the bay. She spent her summer here ingratiating herself with the local parish, learning the bus schedule, breaking in her library card. She stands carefully, dusting the sticky sand off her skirt. 

Chloe looks at her askance. “Heading home?”

Kate shakes her head. She reaches out a hand to Chloe. “Join me for a swim?” Kate asks, and her voice hardly trembles even though she’s beyond nervous. 

Chloe stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head and then she laughs in disbelief. “Are you for real?”

“Very much so.”

“You got a bathing suit on under your clothes, Kit-Kat?”

“Do you?”

“No.” Chloe tries to leer, but it’s so uncertain it falls apart before it can look properly devious. “You askin’ me to go skinny dipping? I thought you were supposed to be a prude about that stuff.”

“I’m not a prude,” Kate protests, her face reddening. “But no, I’m not asking you to go skinny dipping. Or at least I’m not going skinny dipping; you can do as you please.” She slips off her shoes, and good Lord, this really is a terrible idea, isn’t it. She’s not dressed for swimming in the slightest. Her blouse is white, and her skirt is, well, a skirt, but it’s too late to back out now just because she’s had a sudden attack of logic since Chloe’s already taking her hand (and oh Lord Chloe’s hand is so cold and so strong and so perfect) and hauling herself up to her feet.

“Gonna be a weird ride back to campus,” Chloe says with a grin that’s building in its certainty. “Wet jeans are hell to drive in. You know my heater doesn’t work, right?”

“I’ve ridden in your truck before, haven’t I?”

“True that.” Chloe removes Kate’s cardigan and folds it with surprising politeness by her shoes before tugging off her boots and dropping them haphazardly into the sand. She empties her pockets onto the pile of clothes: a crumpled cigarette pack, some loose change, a parking ticket, a key, a lighter, her phone. Kate places her handbag beside them. “You ready to do this thing?”

Kate nods quickly before she can chicken out. “Are you?”

The smile that lights up Chloe’s face is the most radiant thing that Kate’s ever seen. “Hella ready.” Chloe reaches out her hand again, and Kate takes it. 

The water is cold, and swimming in a skirt is just as difficult as Kate feared. It’s completely worth it.

[aprils-arcadia]

By the River

Member: Shownu Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,9k Summary: You watch the sunrise from your favorite place in your hometown, when you are suddenly interrupted by a handsome stranger. 

She was sitting on the little concrete slope near the river. Once it was probably used to let boats into the water, but that had stopped even before she was born. Now it was just one of the nicest places to sit and think. With the river to her right and the embankment to her left she was surrounded by trees in this little nook.  

She used to come here quite often when she still lived nearby with her parents but by now she had moved into the city and the visits to her parents were less frequent than she was comfortable with. Work had taken up way too much of her life and driving home with public transport had always been a hassle. So over time the visits got rarer and rarer, making her miss this place and her parents even more. No matter where she went she always treasured this little fleck of earth in the town she grew up in and spent so many happy years of her childhood. Whenever she came back a smile always adorned her face no matter if it was snowing, bright sunshine, or raining like it just had a second ago.   

It had been a nice summer shower, washing away the dust and the dry heat. Unfortunately it was over before it even really began. Her clothes had already dried within the last few minutes but the remaining raindrops on the embankment still glistened in the now returned sun. 

This wasn’t a famous tourist spot or a hotspot of the local youth, no this was her secret spot. The spot she spent so many hours as a kid, talking to her friends or just being alone with her thoughts. In this little niche beside the river she had her privacy. If she wanted to cry nobody would notice and if she laughed nobody would care. 

It had been the right choice to take the week off, to get away from work and to spend her little vacation here, right where she would always belong. The week housesitting for her parents brought back so many memories, memories that were still ever present in the house itself, be it the old photobooks in her dad’s office or the big framed picture depicting all her family members, her uncles, her cousins and she herself: A young girl forced to wear a dress to look pretty but her hair the usual unkempt mess. She was sitting next to her mom and desperately tried to hide a patched-up finger behind her back but the white bandages still shone brightly next to her dark blue dress.

She stretched her arms into the air and a yawn escaped her mouth. It had been worth getting up at 5 a.m., seeing the sun rise over the horizon, colouring the sky in a bright orange was a sight that was worth every minute of lost sleep. She probably should go back to get ready for the day but not yet, instead she rolled her jacket into a little pillow and layed down on the hard concrete, the tiny stones hurting her back a little but not enough to make her want to leave. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. The earthy smell of petrichor and the fresh scent of the river filled her lungs and she smiled to herself. 

She truly loved this place. 

The sound of the steady waves lapping on to the shore whenever a boat went past, the screeching of the lone seagull that had made its way down south and the rustling of the wind in the leaves around her lulled her into a comfortable nothingness.

Her reverie was interrupted by an unfamiliar smell and the sound of the dry grass being crunched under someone’s feet. Lazily she opened her eyes only to look up at a young man around her age. 

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you.” He took a step back. “I'd better leave". 

"No worries." She sat up and turned around to look at him properly. He was wearing a pair of black running shorts and a black sleeveless top. His hair was disheveled and still wet either from the rain or from the sweat that was also running down his arms making them shimmer in the morning sun. “I wasn't really sleeping and I should probably leave soon anyway."

"I didn't mean to drive you away. It's not like I own the place." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled shyly. 

"True" she giggled. He looked kind and trusting. His eyes radiated a calm and warm aura that made her feel instantly comfortable around him. "Do you wanna sit down?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, so that it no longer stuck to his forehead but now lay in strands. 

She scooted over and gestured at him to sit down. "Not at all. There’s plenty of room for the both of us." 

He sat down next to her, adjusting a bit so that their shoulders would be far enough apart.

"I'm sorry that this is gonna sound like one of those cheesy pick up lines but do you come here often?" A sweet laugh left her mouth, as warm as the summer sun. "Cheesy doesn't necessarily mean bad, I mean that one's a classic.” 

"No,” He corrected quickly “I just meant that I've never seen you around here." 

"I used to live here when I was younger,” She brushed off the sand from her calves and unfolded her little jacket pillow. “Now I'm just housesitting. What about you?" She looked into his eyes as if it was the most natural thing, somehow awkwardness never crossed her mind.

"I've discovered this place on one of my morning runs.” He leaned forward to tighten the knot on his bright blue sneakers. "And now I always stop by here each morning when I'm done."

"Commendable" 

"If you say so.” He smiled at her, his face losing all its rough features instantly. “I just really like this place.” His gaze wandered over to the water that was slowly receding only to be pushed back onto the shore. "It's nice to just sit, watch the waves and just be for a second."

"I agree.” she said. “Nobody really bothers you, well normally at least." She scrunched up her nose and they both laughed.   

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he apologized, still smiling brightly.

“Soo…” she leaned back examining his broad back and shoulders trying to read the letters that were printed on his shirt. “Sho-”

“-Shownu.” he finished. 

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Shownu? I mean there isn't really anything here.” Her hometown had always been a place for old people, sure they had an elementary school but that was about it. The local businesses were slowly moving to the city and apart from one big company, a few bakers and supermarkets it was pretty much just a residential area. No nightlife, on the contrary even, this neck of the woods still clung to their night and sunday rest rules so tightly that loud music after 10 p.m. could easily be answered by the old lady two houses over calling the police on you. The cinema in the nearest town had gone bankrupt and you had to drive half an hour by bus to even get to a decent clothing store. It was no wonder that everyone moved to the city when they finally got the chance.  

"Well, I got seconded here a few months back. I work over there.” He pointed to the big building visible on the horizon on the other side of the river. “I found a nice flat on this side so I just took it. The ferry isn’t that bad of a commute”

“I loved to ride the ferry as a kid.” She said enthusiastically, remembering all the times she went over to the other side to go to the beach or to walk around with her friends and their dogs.  

“Well it gets old rather quickly I can tell you. But the water and the fresh air is a nice wake up on an early morning.” He leaned back steading himself on his hands. 

“And how do you like it here so far?” she asked, playing around with the little blade of grass she had plucked to her right. 

“To be honest, in the beginning it was quite the change. I grew up in a big city and was always so used to the bustle on the streets and the huge amount of people. This is the complete opposite. I mean I once went a day without seeing another human soul on the streets. It had quite the apocalyptic vibe.” He laughed. 

“It probably just meant that the local football team was playing.” She shrugged. Those had been the best days, when almost everyone was out and no one roamed the streets anymore. As a child she used those days to play badminton in the streets with her brother or go for a walk without ever meeting anyone. It was a nice change of pace each time. 

“That makes sense. Anyway it’s actually really nice to live here.”

“Why is that? I mean I know my reason but I’d like to hear yours.” The blade of grass in her hand was now a tiny ball of knots. She put it down beside her and gave it a little flick, watching it roll down the concrete and into the water. 

“I think it’s quite idyllic. When I lived in the city everything seemed so cold, distant and impersonal. In comparison this place feels unbelievably warm. This is probably gonna sound stupid but it feels loved”

She didn’t answer. Instead she just looked at his profile, at the kindness in his eyes and let his words slowly sink in. This place feels loved. To hear someone else say this made her incredibly happy. 

“Sorry that was a bit weird.” he said sitting back up, looking at her. 

“No, not at all.” She let her head sink between her knees looking out onto the shoreline and the line of grasses which gently swayed in the wind.

“I’m really telling you everything here, huh” he chuckled a little shyly and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Sure seemed that way.” she smiled. 

“Must be this place, makes it way too easy to open up to a complete stranger. Well now you owe me one. What brought you back here?”

“Since we are already on the sappy side of things I can just hop onto the train.” She took a deep breath and sighed “I miss this place. It makes life seem so simple and easy. I can forget about work and the stress of the city when I come here.” She smiled, more to herself that to anybody and her eyes were clouded with nostalgia. “In the end it’s home, simple as that.” 

Without warning a loud ringing tone interrupted their conversation. “Oh sh*t.” Shownu got up, quickly turning off the alarm on his phone. “I’m sorry to just leave like this.”

“Nah it’s fine. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work. I better get going as well.” She got up and wrapped her jacket around her hips.

“Hope to see you again soon” he said and sprinted off. 

Me too, she thought. Maybe just now she found another reason to come back here more often. 

[bloodstainedellie23]

Gabriel x Balthazar x Castiel x Reader Imagine

"Here," You held out a chocolate bar towards the school janitor. "I wanted to say thank you for helping me today, I noticed that you like this." His honey eyes traveled from your earnest (e/c) pools to the hershey's bar in your delicate hands. Gabriel had expected many things, but for you to take time out of your day to reward him was not one of them. Taking the treat from you he cracked a cheerful smile, his body practically beaming.

"Think nothing of it."

That was the start of your relationship. Everyday at school you would see him and wave and he found himself liking Japan more and more, and everyday he found himself becoming more and more fascinated to you. Sometimes, you would stay after school and talk with him, usually ending up with him walking you train station to make sure you got there okay.

"Better safe than sorry," He would always say. "Makes pervs think twice before trying something too." You had to agree with him though, especially with the recent incident that happened to a young schoolgirl. Poor girl was waiting for the bus when some guy put his phone under her skirt to get a few pictures, he got caught by bystanders. You shuddered at the thought.

The bell snapped you out of your reservoir, students crowding the halls to get to the lunchroom, some of them choosing to stay in their classes to eat, however, you had different plans. You held the bento lunch, stacked high with layers, a grey cloth holding everything together as you made your way to the rooftop. Feeling the sunlight against your (s/c) you saw the shine of cognac hair shimmering near the bench. A pair of men standing with Gabriel, one a tall, raven haired with a trench coat and the other a brunette with a black jacket and pale eyes. They seemed to be deep in conversation, and you considered leaving to give them privacy, only for Gabriel to notice you.

"(y/n)!" He calls out, making you turn around and catch the attention of the other two men. "There you are!" He pats the bench beside him and you oblige, your form looking even smaller in comparison to his own. "I'll see you guys later." Gabriel bids the men farewell.

"Hello there," Balthazar takes your hand and kisses it, your body flaring at the gesture. "(y/n), what a lovely name. I'm Balthazar, and this," He waves a hand towards the guy with the trench coat. "Is Castiel, any friend of Gabriel's is a friend of ours." From a first impression, you had to say Balthazar was the flirty and fun loving type. Castiel, however, reminded you of the quiet type. Two complete opposites.

"Hello." Castiel gives you a curt nod, his eyes traveling to your lunch. "You know bento are very nutritious." Not very sure if this was him attempting conversation or just stating a fact you decided to see where this would lead you.

"Yes, would you like some? I made it." You unwrapped the boxes and laid handed everyone a box leaving you without one for yourself.

"Your not eating?" Gabriel frowns along with his brothers.

"Uh," A flare of panic coursed through you. You hadn't upsetted him, did you? "No, I'm okay. Thank you for the concern though." Yep, even you had noticed the change in your actions and tone around unfamiliar people. You tended to get nervous easily, your body becoming rigid and constantly worrying if you had offended someone or done something wrong. You would get so emotionally scrambled that panic attacks were not an uncommon thing for you, even walking up the stairs to your class, whether your late or just crowded by your classmates, made it hard to breathe. Anytime it came on you felt as if your lungs had stopped functioning and your chest would tighten.

You were snapped out of your thoughts with a piece of chicken tempura being held to your lips. "Consider it payment for the candy bars." Gabriel playfully winks, causing you to fluster.

"We're not supposed to eat after each other." You responded looking into his honey eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat. "We aren't even supposed to be up here together sugar." He had you there.

Castiel held up a piece of his bento to you as well. "The human body is fragile, you need sustenance." You found it sweet, but you noted the weird use of words from the man. It was as if he doesn't need food. "I don't need food. It tastes like molecules." Castiel replies without missing a beat, as if he had read your mind. "I did." There he goes again. Gabriel choked on his spit as Balthazar froze and whipped towards the accountant.

"What he means to say, is that he isn't hungry," He threw an arm around him, pale, almost grey eyes locking with bright blue. "Right?"

"No, angels do not need food." It was at this time Gabriel dropped the piece of chicken that was once still held up to you. Castiel looked between his brothers. "What? Do you want me to lie?"

You thought about it, looking back on every interaction you had with Gabriel from day one. If he was an angel, it would make sense as to why your panic attacks would disappear as soon as he touched your back. Any pain you had when you had first met after falling to the floor had vanished once you placed your hand in his. He always seemed to be there when you thought of him after school or when bullying would start in the halls, even when you swore that he wasn't there before. A rational part of your brain tried to reason that Castiel had a mental illness, but maybe that was you wanting to believe that. Regardless, if Gabriel was an angel too, he couldn't be a danger to you. You never felt in danger in his presence. He had several chances by now to harm you but never took them.

"Alright." You reply breathlessly putting a stop to Balthazar trapping Castiel in a headlock. They looked at you stunned and Gabriel seemed to debate something, his chop sticks fiddling with the food in the bento box you had given him. Was he nervous? "Gabriel." For once your voice was somewhat stern, yet it remained soft and concerned. "If you are an angel, then I'm sure you have your reasons for not telling me. It is hard to believe, after all." His eyes darted to the ground. "However, it doesn't change the fact that I feel at ease with you." His eyes lit up, flickering to meet your own. The gold flecks in his brown eyes were almost glowing in the sunlight. Hope and relief flooding the earthy pools. "You always seem to be there when I need you most and I am thankful for that." You tilted your head towards the sky, the light seeming to make your eyes appear brighter and your features glow. Your hair shined in the sun, soft curls framing your face. You felt hot, whether it was from the situation or the tropical weather you weren't sure. The tension on the rooftop seemed to dissipate, a comfortable silence and peacefulness replacing the atmosphere. For a moment you wished it could last forever, but you knew that time would move on.

"...Thank you." You felt Gabe's large hand tentatively touch your own, almost cautiously, the touch was warm and comforting, soothing. You turned to face him once more, his features  just as bright and cheery as when you had first met. "It's only been a few weeks, but these have been some of the best days of my life." Gabriel admits.

And it was. Here he was, his true nature revealed to a human girl, and she wasn't dropping to his feet begging for forgiveness or kissing his ass. She wasn't apologizing for saying his father's name in vain, she wasn't treating him any different than when they had first met, save for being more comfortable around him. He also didn't have to worry about her trying to fry his wings extra crispy like the dreaded Winchester brothers, even though she wasn't a hunter.

"Well," Balthazar begins. "All's well that ends well, but you still need to eat." He held up your favorite sushi roll the food grazing your lips. "A lady needs to take care of herself." A playful wink paired with his smooth british accent was a killer combination, and he was offering to feed you to boot. Suddenly another food item was shoved in your face, Gabriel glaring at his brother. "I offered to feed her first, Balthazar." The challenge was cast out, both males seeming to stare one another down. Castiel glanced between the two and held out a piece of food for you to eat as well. "I offered as well.”