#thinking abt it again is making me tear up. dire

[pwuppyl0ve]

going fucking bonkers over a book about corsets i just found. i need this thing immediately. if anyone wants to woo me please feel free to buy me ‘the bad corset: a feminist reimagining’ by rebecca gibson

[halfdeadwallfly]

Lemme know if there is a catholic matter too along with the mass its a query of mine that needs dire replenishing

Aw hi anon, thanks for querying :)) tbh I've just been kind of thinking abt it recently, I'm in a bible as literature class and we've been reading psalms recently which kind of just awakened the catholic vibe in me lol. I'm pretty solidly still an atheist, but I grew up super catholic (I went to a catholic school until high school and went to mass normally twice a week, did all the fasting and seasons and such, and all the sacraments) and anyway that's something that kind of just sticks with you in my experience. In both positive and negative ways, and neutral ways too, really. I feel the negative ways a lot, but I've been trying to come back around to religion with some more distance, and more appreciation of it outside of how it hurt me. Several of my friends are active in the catholic community at our school, and they do mass and a meal once every week on a weekday, and I just randomly decided to go this week. I haven't been to a regular mass in several years at this point, which is something I'm not even sure I can wrap my head around. but I've been finding this appreciation for the art of the church, the ritual and the motion of it, and I thought that maybe really choosing to go, and experiencing it with a class of my peers who all made that choice, would make for a different type of experience. I'll be honest, I almost cried during mass today. I haven't tasted church wine since before covid, but it made me feel like a kid again, picking the host from my molars and kneeling down after the eucharist. And the prayers themselves, the recitation, it comes back almost thoughtlessly. I found my mouth saying the words even as I was consciously worrying whether or not I would remember them. It was the music that had me tearing up in the end, singing the verses to taste and see almost on instinct. I don't sing like that anymore. I've always sung differently in church, soft and thin and voiceless, and hearing that sound come out of me today was shaking. I think it's interesting, how I'm reinvolving myself with catholicism now. I don't know if I can speak in depth to how pained I find myself at the discussion of christ himself, or salvation, of the gospel, but I'm happy reclaiming the ritual. I feel guilty, in a way, like it doesn't belong to me anymore, like I don't deserve the host like I did before, but I don't know. I don't think that's something I can really come to a conclusion on either. I feel as if in some ways, I've earned it; even if I don't believe I have a soul, whatever serves as one in my mind is soothed by the memory, and by the momentary letting go. I don't want to say I'm owed that, but I've certainly been denied it in the past, and it feels safe enough to claim what I still can.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Idk about you but that trope where a giant gets angry and accidentally scares a tiny and feels bad abt it afterwards makes me go absolutely feral,,

So, originally, I was planning for this scene to be in a future chapter of This Is Nothing Like The Disney Star Wars Trilogy, but I could never really think of a full story arc around it, even though I still really really really love this idea. In any case, if I happen to brainstorm a better plot and find a way to squeeze this in I might edit it into the main story, otherwise enjoy some classic Giant Catboi and Twink Solider fearplay >:3c

--

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!?”

As expected, the little one did not respond to his rhetorical question, though his tone certainly helped snap it out of its previous stupor as it released its death grip on his shirt in favor of squirming as soon as the bedroom door slid shut behind him. His aggravation at the situation was clear as day even without the usual language and cultural barrier that impeded any sort of deeper relationship Edix tried to form with the human. Red ears were still folded back against his curls and his shoulders tense, the stiff posture traveling down to his hands were they gripped the earthling to his chest perhaps just a touch more tightly than usual, not that it prevented it from trying to push and wriggle itself out of his overprotective hold.

Fuck no, he wasn’t ready to let it go yet, not when flecks of blood were still smeared against his knuckles as a result of an impromptu rescue mission. The satisfying snap of cartilage under his fist after one good sucker punch to Talan’s smug face still echoed in his mind, blood gushing from the surely broken nose while the biologist stumbled backwards into the shelves. Edix wondered if he would be reprimanded for that by the directors later, or if Talan would be too proud to report the ass kicking, maybe even taking the lesson to heart to not fuck with his things in the future. And yes, that included trying to vivisect his sweet little pet.

How was I supposed to know the stray belonged to you? He had asked with sarcastic innocence, as if the human in question hadn’t been seen with Edix a thousand times before, and wasn’t drenched in his scent, and didn’t have his ID code printed on the back of its little suit, Maybe if you weren’t such a wuss and actually put it on a shorter leash-

Asshole. He was lucky Edix’s only goal at the moment was to get the little one off the table and back to the appropriate sector rather than rip Talan to shreds with his own tools. A taste of his own medicine, perhaps. Still, he admittedly did have a point about the human, what with how much it would run off and get lost and damn near killed. He simply couldn’t figure out what was so terrible about staying in his company that the little one would risk injury and mutilation in a foreign environment as opposed to the safety and comfort he so desperately tried to provide for it. They might have had a bit of a rocky start, sure, but stars above that was far in the past now. There’s nothing either of them can do to change the facts so why not accept things as they are and make some type of effort to be happy in this new life? By all accounts, Edix was a great owner!

And yet, the little one still fought him every step of the way. Even now, having just saved it from a fate of having its tiny organs sliced while it was wide awake, it made it known it did not want to be near him anymore. It might have been clinging to him the entire walk back to the bedroom, but it must have remembered it was supposed to be oblivious to the notion of genuine love and safety because now it started to stutter out little squeaks on top of struggling. Normally, Edix adored any and all of the sounds it made, especially when it was directly trying to talk to him which only served to give him the mental image of a pup mindlessly babbling before they managed their first few words. This time, however, it only worsened his irritation.

“Stop.” He ordered, which the human somewhat complied with, though it probably had more to do with his harsher tone and the fact that he was already lowering his hand towards the bed to set it down. As soon as it was free of his hold, it scrambled back, looking at him with those wide brown eyes that were full of so much fear it made him sick. Why did it have to be so afraid of him? What could he have possibly done that even now, almost a cycle later, it was still overtly wary of his intentions. All he ever did was care for it. Feed it, pet it, cuddle it, protect it, and still nothing was good enough!

With a tired sigh, he rubbed his hand down his face and resisted the urge to tug at his hair. “I just don’t understand,” he pleaded, begging some cosmic being out there to suddenly grant the little one the power to understand what he was saying, “what can I possibly do to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m trying to keep you alive and it’s like...I don’t know, you resent me for that or something!”

The sweet thing looked more confused at his words than anything, but he could tell his body language and voice were making it uneasy. The human was used to soft words and purrs and slow movements, rarely any agitation in his being. After a beat of silence marked by an intense stare down, Edix gave up on hoping the earthling would miraculously explain itself and open up to sharing its thoughts on the matter. He reached for it and it instinctively back up, flinching when a growl rumbled in his throat in response.

“Stop running,” it was a fruitless endeavor, but like hell if he wouldn’t stop trying. That was how new pups learned how to understand a language anyways, wasn’t it? To repeat certain words over and over until they got the idea? Maybe that’s all he needed to do here, maybe by now it already knew the Venandi words for no, stop, be good, and so on. He reached for it again and it did the same thing as last time, always sure to stay just out of the most convenient reach. Not that it mattered how much it inched away seeing how it was trapped on the bed with Edix directly in front of it, but it was the principal of the matter.

And it was then that something inside him snapped. Something primal as a result of dealing with an unruly pup far too long for his nerves to handle at this moment. He wasn’t even aware of his actions, belatedly realizing how he pounced on the bed in a flash, the human scrambling to get away but only having enough time to turn around before being roughly pinned on its stomach against the mattress. His teeth were bared and pressed tightly against its back, fangs scraping against the layers of its clothes to no doubt bruise the tender flesh underneath, though thankfully they didn’t break the skin. A loud growl reverberated though its entire body, shaking it to its core.

“Enough.” He hissed against its back, keeping his teeth pressed into its skinny frame for a moment longer before pulling away. The second he did, his glare softened, all the anger he felt gone in an instant as soon as he saw the sight underneath him.

The poor thing was absolutely petrified.

It was probably the worst it’s ever been scared, arguably. Not even the first time they met, when it had so gracefully tumbled down that hill and landed face first in front of him, compared to the level of fear that radiated off it. A split-second thought had Edix wondering if he had legitimately scared it to death. Soon enough, though, he was able to pick up the minute tremors that shook through it, almost like an aftershock of the warning that it felt more than heard. It was pale, baby face devoid of color not unlike that time before when it had been sick with fever. But its eyes...those sweet little doe eyes he loved so much were wide and wet with a sheen of tears that refused to fall, locked in a blank stare straight ahead towards the wall and refusing to look at him.

A small, choked hiccup made its body twitch every couple of breaths, but it refused to open its mouth to allow any of these sniffles to turn into cries. Shit, it refused to move at all, too terrified of Edix’s threat display that if it did anything he didn’t like there would be dire consequences to pay. He supposed it worked exactly as intended, in that case. It was still, it was quiet, it was technically obeying him after he just forced it to behave via alternative punishment. That didn’t change the fact that he felt absolutely, terribly, extremely awful about what he just did.

It was just a pup, as he always said, regardless of what Ylva would tell him about human adolescence and such. It didn’t know any better, it had never been raised in these situations before and needed much longer than a measly cycle to unlearn all of its prey behaviors it needed to survive on its home planet. Besides, it wasn’t that it didn’t fully know that it was perfectly safe with Edix, it was smart enough to know he was at the very least the safest option when presented with any other Venandi. Edix had been upset, and it knew he was upset, so of course it would want to avoid a potentially hostile predator before-

--before it snatched the little one in its teeth.

Fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t as cut out for this as he thought, not like Ylva who was the very essence of motherhood. No. Now wasn’t the time for self doubts and pity, not when the human was in such a state. Slowly, hands cupped around its shaking form, mindful to make sure his fingers were in its view so it wouldn’t be any more startled when he lifted it up, not that he was completely sure it was actually seeing anything in front of it. The little one hardly reacted to the movement, laying limp when he pressed it against his chest and moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed in a similar fashion to what he had done the first night the poor thing was on the ship.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he whispered to it, rubbing his thumb along the curve of its back just how it liked whenever it dozed, “you’re okay, we’re fine, it’s okay to cry. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m so sorry.”

Normally in these types of instances, he’d be purring and shushing the little sweetheart until he was able to get it down for a nap, but he had little confidence that any other types of chest vibrations would have its usual effect of making the human drowsy currently. When it finally started blinking again, the tears that had welled up ran freely down its cheeks, quickly biting down on its wobbling lip to prevent any sobs from escaping and get it in trouble for misbehaving. He softly clicked his tongue at it and cooed, anything to put it at ease with a softer demeanor. “I know, honey, I know. I won’t ever do that again, I promise."

Well, if nothing else, at least the little one’s apprehension of him wasn’t unfounded anymore, much to his dismay.

[lunar-lair]

OK. TEAM PLASMA TIME!!!! welcome one and all.....to the team plasma post for the soul eater submas au. these guys r fun trust me (she says, still not knowing where she's going w them)

SO. abt their base mission

They wish to make N the new president and ban the use of madness to make weapons by. Idk forcing the Messengers not to? They don't know abt that part. They're all meisters that use literal normal ass weapons like kitchen knives and shit. I'm giving them Slightly more integrity than actual normal team plasma cause I said so

In this case it's like. They wish to stop using madness to fight, to stop using amalgamations for fighting

Their message is 'weapons are used like tools by meisters' (few of them are weapons because few weapons believe this) but some meisters well and truly join for the reason of 'weapons are useless and should be treated like dirt' instead, using it as a reason to dunk on weapons for their existence

Other team Plasma members who actually believe in their cause (well. their "cause" we all know ghetsis) dunk on weapons for their existence in a. Sympathetic way? Like 'oh poor child, you've been mutated by the Messengers and made mad. Come with us and you'll never have to transform again'

N, here, can speak to amalgamations, including the Messengers

He's a weapon himself, but is...in a way, a fuck-up by Arceus.

He was made too mad, and in turn, turned into...he's an amalgamation, but. More of one than usual.

His weapon form isn't...a weapon.

It's a horrifying mess of darkness.

It's one of the Messenger's children, made human.

Ghetsis saw a chance when he saw this.

He saw a new president. He saw power. He saw a freak, one he could convince into thinking no one would love him, that no one loved any weapons, that weapons should cease being made, and those who are should be given sympathy.

In truth, he wants the power, and he wants madmen to roam the earth, made into his puppets by his son.

An army. An army to rule the world with.

N was kept hidden away, told no one would love him, introduced only to weapons who hated meisters, who were hurt by meisters, told over and over weapons were a mistake.

Team Plasma make their first moves when Emmet and Ingo are 15, just a little more mad than everyone else, standing next to Hilda and Hilbert, twin weapons, too, just a little more mad than everyone else, too.

Hilda and Hilbert are commended for having no meister.

They do not care.

Emmet and Ingo are their main target.

Twins, wielded by a meister, one who is hurt.

Ones who they have seen wield each other in dire straits.

One member asks them why they don't just wield themselves.

Because we are stronger when we are together, they say, and Elesa wields us well.

Another member asks, vehement and angry (a weapon, one with scars), if the nicks in Ingo's blade are due to his meister's careless mistake.

The man gets no answers.

Only a punch in the face, once Elesa has stepped back to let Ingo transform.

Inevitably, N is escorted out of his castle, and to the DWMA.

Inevitably, Ingo, Emmet, Elesa, Hilda, and Hilbert meet him there.

Hilda is wielding Hilbert. Ingo and Emmet transform in front of his eyes, eyes that had seen the two wield each other in the past.

A pair of weapons that refused a meister, standing with a meister and a weapon, as a team.

Two weapons, two weapons that sounded so alike (the whispers of madness, he's always heard them), held by one woman.

One had nicks, and a still-rough edge.

But neither felt afraid.

N fights, valiantly.

It is soon, however, that Hilda and Hilbert have expressed their admiration for weapon and meister duos, that they could never give even the both of them up to one.

It is soon that Bianca praises her meister's bravery.

It is soon that N asks, desperate, why Ingo and Emmet choose to be with a meister, one that could hurt them.

One that has.

And it is soon that he is sitting there, in tears, edges blurring, madness shining through.

Because the twins responded, because she is strong, and we are stronger together,

And, the sword admitted, we were told no one could care for both of us long ago.

And, the dagger added, they were verrrry wrong. We are mad, madder than most.

And Elesa still cares for us, they said at once. That is all we could ever hope for.

And the madman breaks in front of them. And the twin pairs sit down, bathing in their madness, bathing in his madness, knowing how it is to be called a freak for your oddities, knowing how it is to be just a little too mad for everyone else's liking.

10 years later, when team Plasma reforms, N stands against them.

He still stands alone.

He now wields his static, alone, not with fear of his strangeness, but with pride for his differences.

The two twin duos and a new one stand with him.

He is happy madness lives alive, happy, in their hearts.

ALSO UHH. i think itd be funny if ghetsis called himself a president. and if the other guys who help rule were called witches or like. lords of madness. yea :o)

not sorry for all the n stuff btw i care him a lot. thats it for the basic stuff though!! (for now probably tbh ough) coming soon: ingos no good very bad day!! (courtesy of an epic anon)

[undeadpsycho13]

a cup of coffee to warm my icy heart

AHHHHHH GUYS LOOK IM SO SO SO SORRRRRRYYYYYY I SWEAR I HAD THIS FINISHED LAST FRIDAY I JUST FORGOT IM SORRRRYYYYY

i know this chapter is one week overdue, and i hope u guys can forgive me.  i swear i had it done ages ago, just forgot to post it. also, its more than twice the length of the first chapter, if that makes up for anything.

thank you to @puzzle-of-life-reason-for-death​ for the reminder, this chapter is for you!! :D

btw, some chinese swear words are involved, and the translations are at the bottom. if u dont like them, rlly sorry, i just thought it might be fun, cause you know, both baits and an speak chinese canon, and so do i, so why not?

tell me if u dont like it, i wont include them in the next chapter

otherwise, enjoy~~ ^_~

CHAPTER 2: JUST A TINY PART OF ME (FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU)

The second time was not so much of an accident, but oh well, not-accidents happen all the time, don’t they?

The annoying door ringing speaker thing once again announced Baitsakhan’s appearance at Endgame.  A very pissed Baitsakhan.  A very pissed Baitsakhan who had not had coffee in the last three days and was currently dying of lack of caffeine in his bloodstream.  Red Bull was a poor substitute; he needed freaking coffee.  The darker, the better.  The scene from last week flashed back in his face, and Baitsakhan cringed a little on the inside.  He was not willing to make a fool of himself again.

He had surprised both his sister and An by staying away from coffee for four days, and then couldn’t help but get some coffee from The Starbucks.  At least he had figured out the barista’s name.  Hilal Ibn Isa Al-Salt.  He was awful proud of his memory; who on earth had long-ass names like that?  For once, he was appreciative of his unique, surname-less name.

But the Al-Salt guy’s infuriating niceness had gotten the better of him, and he had once again scared Baitsakhan away with a honey-bee-pesticide-banning petition.  Who cares whether bees died?  Screw them.

The absence of a sufficient amount of caffeine, however, was not his only problem.  The Phone Guy (as baitsakhan had deemed him) had texted him back, albeit the dire-sounding warning, with a outrageous reply of, omg so sry got the wrong # D: rlly rlly sry :(.  And then, of all the emojis he could have typed, he chose the freaking <3.

Needless to say, Baitsakhan was pissed.  No one, no one the whole damn world, was allowed to send him a heart emoji (save Sarangerel and An’s incredibly sweet girlfriend Chiyoko, but that as different), and yet this complete stranger had taken it upon himself (or herself, he added as an afterthought) to send him one.  This was an outrage.  He would not dignify this text with an answer, he thought to himself.

So, naturally, he just had to go to that nice coffee shop to calm himself down.  Just had to.  And it had nothing to do with wanting to the hot barista.  Absolutely nothing.

Seating himself at the table closest to the window, he took out his phone, absent-mindedly scrolling through his playlist.  

An indefinite amount of time passes.  

And then, out of the blue, a hand suddenly tapped him shoulder, and, startled, he whipped around, teeth bared, hands out in front of him in an offensive position, ready to gouge the offenders eyeballs out ––

The cute barista (Maccabee, his mind supplied) is, apparently, said offender.

Great, there’s another person who thinks he’s a psychopathic weirdo (not that he isn’t, but still).

But instead of freaking out at his overreaction, the guy laughs.  Who even does that after a near-death experience? (Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but there’s no denying this guy was weird.)

“Chill dude, just here to take your order.”

Met with Baitsakhan’s blank look, the guy raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Look, I love having you here, but if you don’t order something, like, right now, I’m going to have to kick you out, ’cause I just got this job and I really don’t want to lose it.  You know, you’ve been sitting here for like half an hour doing nothing.”

Holy hell, he’s been wasting thirty minutes doing nothing?!  Scrambling up (in a very dignified way, of course), he says, in a voice he hopes is impassive,

“Sure, I’ll have an espresso or something, like that thing you made last time.  If you don’t remember, I’ll just have the thing with the most caffeine.”

Maccabee (again, this is all his brain’s doing, there is no way Baitsakhan would consciously remember people’s names, even super hot guys) laughs at that, shaking his head.

“Of course I remember, who would be able to forget the order of the cutest guy we’ve had here since I started working?”

The blond is nice to enough not show any visible reaction to the way Baitsakhan’s face burns a deep red color at his comment, and instead smiles a bit lopsidedly and turns to go.  Suddenly he pauses, turns back to face the noirette, and before Baitsakhan can do anything the older teen quickly winks, so fast it was almost missed, and continues on towards the counter.

For the next five minutes, until Maccabee comes back with his drink, Baitsakhan just sits there, eyes wide, mouth gaping like a fish, shell-shocked.  Even then all he can do is close his mouth and nod his head politely.

A buzz from his phone catches his attention, finally rousing him from his stupor.  For a moment, he thinks that it’s the Phone Guy again, but when he see’s "Asian Hacker Lovebird”, he smiles to himself and swipes the screen sideways to reply.  Though he would never admit it, An crashing into his life nine years ago really made his life better a thousand-fold.  He remembered first arriving in North America, a bitter, parent-less seven year-old, small for his age but savage and aggressive, despite the language barrier.  Oh, he learned English in his due time, but back then, really all he could say were a few basic swear words that immediately earned him half a dozen enemies.  The one person he gravitated towards was a kid in the year above him, a Chinese boy who was all glares and rule-breaking and rebellious behaviour.  Looking at his slim frame and lanky form, people would be led to falsely believe that An was all bark and no bite.  

They couldn’t be more wrong.  

Professional in at least ten different types of martial arts and an expert at (illegal) poisons and (illegal) hacking, An was definitely a formidable opponent.  Baitsakhan’s type of guy.  They were the perfect pair, both cold and haughty at school and in public.  No one needed to know they played video games together well into the night and had weird movie marathons on a regular basis and smiled until their face’s hurt and laughed until they couldn’t breathe.

He was a good friend, cynical, with a dry sense of humor.

Right now, however, not so much.

asian hacker lovebird: where r u????

asian hacker lovebird: baits

asian hacker lovebird: answer me child

asian hacker lovebird: ANSWER ME CHILD

im-not-smol: Piss off.

asian hacker lovebird: THE CHILD IS HERE

im-not-smol: Don’t call me a child.

asian hacker lovebird: i repeat where r u

im-not-smol: A cafe.

asian hacker lovebird: specify

im-not-smol: Endgame Cafe.

asian hacker lovebird: U MEAN!!!

asian hacker lovebird: LIKE DA 1 W/ DA HOT BARISTA U RANT ABT 24/7??!!!!

asian hacker lovebird: OMG STAY RIGHT THERE DONT MOVE IMMA JOIN U

im-not-smol: Don’t you dare.

im-not-smol: 傻逼

asian hacker lovebird: oh no u did NOT just call me that

asian hacker lovebird: now i need 2 come 2 beat u up

asian hacker lovebird: it is a MUST

asian hacker lovebird: see ya in 2 min

im-not-smol: 王八蛋

asian hacker lovebird: SHUT UP JUST SHUT UP IMMA COME OVER RN 2 BEAT UP UR STUPID ASS

im-not-smol: You can try. ;)

asian hacker lovebird: challenge accepted ur goin DOWN boi

im-not-smol: We’ll see about that.

asian hacker lovebird: ur “impecable grammar” rlly pisses me off

asian hacker lovebird: *imppecable

asian hacker lovebird: ugh

asian hacker lovebird: smthn watevr i kant spel

im-not-smol: It’s not my fault you turned autocorrect off.

asian hacker lovebird: when will u eva learn 2 txt like a normal person???

asian hacker lovebird: 好落后

asian hacker lovebird: just sayin

im-not-smol: Shut up.

asian hacker lovebird: look up

Baitsakhan raised his head, only to be met with the sight of a very distorted face right next to his head.  And of course he didn’t scream Jesus Christ and shriek like a little girl, what are you talking about?

The weird twisted face outside morphed into a wicked grin and the doorbell rang once again as another customer entered, tears of mirth still apparent in his eyes.  This new comer looked quite out of the ordinary, tall and dressed in nothing but black and silver, a face that was all harsh angles and sharp corners and pale skin.  A contrasting red teardrop tattoo stood out, leaking out of his right eye, and his strange hair style earned him quite a few looks from the other customers.

“You’re so stupid.”

“Shut up, you will speak of this to no one, understand?”

Most people would quake with fear at the aggressive tone, but An just rolls his eyes,

“Normal people don’t speak like ancient three-hundred year-old vampires, Baits.”

He drops down on the chair opposing Baitsakhan’s, leaning back and crossing his legs, stretching them out in front of him, a picture of complete ease.

“So, where’s the hot shot?” An says in a mock-whisper tone.  Baitsakhan glares at him before subtly motioning towards the counter, where Maccabee is leaning against it, his phone one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.  For a moment, An just stares, a small smirk on his face (not that the smirk ever disappears), whistling appreciatively.  And then, out of the blue, he shouts, so loud that he attracts probably the attention of everyone else in the mile radius,

“Hey there, aren’t employees not supposed to serve themselves?”

Startled, Maccabee looks up.  He sees An’s triumphant expression and Baitsakhan’s kill-me-now-please-just-shoot-me-and-save-me-from-the-torture one, and kind of gathers what happened.  A lazy smile slips onto his face.  He walks over, leisurely, still holding the half-finished drink.

“You’re right.  But… ”  He pauses for effect, and in that short amount of time An actually gets around to rolling his eyes again.  The boy really gets a lot of practice.

“I’m off duty.  Ais over there took over for me.”

He gestures at a red-headed girl who has somehow managed to escape their notice until then.  For a moment, a strange look flits across Baitsakhan’s face, but as quickly as it got materialises, it disappears.

An shrugs.

“Oh.  Good for you.”  He says awkwardly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence, like the type when someone ought to say something but nobody does, before Baitsakhan finally interjects,

“Thanks for the coffee, but I think my friend and I should get going.” Here he pointedly glares at An, who stares innocently at the ceiling.  

“How much is it again?”

Maccabee shrugs,

“Don’t worry about it, as long as you come again, it’s on the house.”

He winks suggestively.

Baitsakhan, of course, agrees.  After all, who could say no to a free cup of coffee, right?  And obviously, obviously it had no correlation to the fact that he actually wanted to come back to ogle the baristas.  Duh, no.

When he first visited the coffee shop, Baitsakhan never imagined he would meet someone like this who flirted blatantly and paid for his drinks.  When he first exited the coffee shop, he never thought he would come back again.  When he came back the second time, he never thought that this place would impact his previously non-existent love life.

Only when they are outside the door, Baitsakhan for the second time, An the first, and An is laughing at his lovestruck (Baitsakhan would deny this) expression that Baitsakhan realises that maybe, maybe a tiny part of him has fallen in love with Maccabee.

(Just a tiny part.)

CHAPTER INDEX (for your convenience)

1 | 2

so. how’d you guys like it?

here are the translations:

傻逼 = dumbass/idiot

王八蛋 = its like f    er (sry, i rlly dont like swearing in english in writing, i feel like ppl will track me down and yell at me)

好落后 = so behind (as in trends, like in the context of not caught up on the latest trends)

hope that cleared things up a bit, if not feel free to send me a quick message, and i’ll explain to you in detail.

anyways, any suggestions for the next chapter?? (i really need to change the texting usernames, any suggestions for the individual characters?? eventually all of the players are gonna get involved one way or another in the texting conversations)