#this was a silly little doodle idea i can’t believe it took a week

[shiqingxuanz]

the GAANG if they made presentations

[statticscribbles]

Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down  on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of  the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

Support My Writing?

[novannna]

You Were the Hands That Held Me

Danissa soulmate au.  everyone has a soul mate, and any marking that appears on their skin, appears on yours.  narcissa’s pov.  Kinda angsty, but also fluffy.  

tw: self harm, and mentions of abuse kinda

wc: 2363

Narcissa stared at her arm in awe.  This was the first time her soulmate had ever drawn something on her skin.  She had felt the same cuts and bruises her soulmate had received, just like everyone else, but this was the first time her soulmate had deliberately marked her own skin.

Messy butterflies with uneven wings, and twisted antennas marched down Narcissa’s forearm.  

“Oh,” she whispered.  “Cool.”  She grabbed the nearest marked, and held it poised above the other arm, ready to reply, but thought better of it.  

She shouldn’t force her soulmate to stop their art for Narcissa.  She dropped the marker, and kept watching the thick lines as they covered her entire arm.  

That night she washed it all away in scalding hot water before her grandfather noticed.  He wouldn’t approve of Narcissa communicating with her soulmate.  

He hated the idea of How there was one person in the world, waiting just for you.  

His soulmate had died years ago, leaving him heartbroken and angry, bitter to the world.   

If Narcissa wasn’t careful, he might take the anger out on her.    

Narcissa could take it, but she didn’t want to hurt her soulmate too.  Narcissa would feel awful.  

So she tried to ignore the small flowers and butterflies her soulmate drew constantly.  Narcissa tried her very best.  

---

Years later, Narcissa wrote to her soulmate for the first time.  It was in the middle of the night, when Narcissa had felt a searing pain across her arm that looked like a red slit across her pale skin.  

Her soulmate was in trouble.  She couldn’t just stand by now. Narcissa had to do something.  

Grabbing a tissue to staunch the bleeding, Narcissa scrawled across her hand in thick ink. 

STOP

I can’t , her soulmate replied. 

Please, just hear me out, Narcissa wrote, hoping she could do enough.  Hoping she could convince the person who had drawn butterflies everywhere on their body, that maybe the world really did want them. 

please, just stay out of this

I can’t. This is my body too.  And even though I’ve never met you, you're my soulmate and I care about you. 

Fine. I’ll listen. Her soulmate's handwriting was a little shaky, but very neat, with tall, loopy letters.  

I’m guessing you’ve been having a hard time with life recently, Narcissa started. 

I guess

Do you want to be here?  Narcissa asked bluntly

There was a long pause.  I don’t know, her soulmate finally responded.  I love Earth, but the people…. I can’t stand the people. All they do is bring hate and hurt to me

I get that.  But the people don’t matter. You do.  Danna wrote desperately. 

No I don’t. I’ve never done a single good thing in my life

You have!  You’ve made me smile!  You’ve made me laugh!  

Her soulmate replied, When?  This is the first time I’ve ever talked to you

When we were younger, you used to constantly doodle little flowers and butterflies all across our bodies. I loved to watch you draw them, watch the blocky little lines appear across my body.   Danna smiled as she recalled the delicate insects she wore across her body daily. 

I thought you hated those. That’s why I stopped

No, of course not!

Then why did you erase them?

Narcissa sighed. She thought for a second, then wrote, my grandfather. He hates soulmates. If he knew I was communicating with mine, I’m afraid he would hurt me.  And doing that would hurt you. 

But… that means you could get in trouble right now!

No. I won’t, I’m fine. You are more important.  Tell me, what made you want to hurt yourself today?

I guess I’m just tired of being ignored. I’m tired of being treated like a child. I want to leave my house, but I can’t. I can’t live on my own. 

Thats okay, you shouldn’t be ignored.  You should be your own person, and if your parents cant see that, they’re idiots!!

Narcissa capped the pen, and tried to wrap her blanket around her arm, the blood slowly soaked through the fabric, staining the blanket a bright red.  How would she explain that to her grandfather?  It didn’t matter right now though.  Right now, she had to make sure her soulmate was okay.  That was her one and only goal.  Nothing else mattered.  Narcissa had the opportunity to maybe save a life right now.  That’s what she had to do.  

They aren’t.  I’m the one who’s screwing up, her soulmate replied.  I cant ever get anything right.  Im just a big mistake that shouldn't even exist.  The worlds probably better without me

THATS NOT FUCKING TRUE!  Narcissa scrawled as quickly as she could.  I dont believe it.  Not for a second.  Just by being here, you’ve made the world a better place.  Everyday, I wake up and check my body for some indicator that you’re here.  I can’t help but think about the fact that there is someone out there meant for me.  And I’m meant for someone.  

I guess…

Narcissa sighed heavily.  She had to go to bed before her grandfather woke and saw her light on.  

Are you okay?  She wrote.  Are you in any danger?  If you are, im here.  For both of us

A minute passed before the reply came.  I dont think so.  I think im better.  But… if i feel bad again, can i talk to u?  This actually really helped me.  Thank you

Narcissa smiled.  Of course!!!  Just, could u write somewhere less obvious?

Sure.  I understand.

Narcissa smiled gratefully.  How ‘bout our ankles?  That’s less obvious and easy for me to hide

She felt pressure on her right foot, and slid it out from beneath her blanket.  A smile, and little butterfly doodle greeted her eyes.  

Good night, soulmate, Narcissa wrote

Good night.  Sleep tight.  And… thank you.

Narcissa smiled.  She slid out of bed, and held her arm close to her chest while creeping to the bathroom.  Once inside, she scrubbed all of the ink off her skin, and bandaged the red slit shut.  

Narcissa and her soulmate were okay.  That was all that mattered.  Everything was alright.  At least for now.  But now was the only thing Narcissa could bear to think about.  

---

After that one night, Narcissa’s soulmate never hurt themselves like that again.  But that didn’t mean they weren’t hurting.   Narcissa could tell they were hurting themselves in other ways.  

She tried to help.  She wrote reminders every few hours, telling her soulmate to eat, and drink water.  She wrote encouraging messages, and doodled across their skin.  

But still, Narcissa would feel her stomach growl with hunger, and her tongue beg for more water.  She felt her eyes grow heavy even though she had slept almost 10 hours the night before.  Her soulmate just didn’t care, and there was nothing Narcissa could do. 

They would talk to each other constantly, ranting about their day, or commenting about something they saw.  Narcissa grew much closer to the person she had never even seen the face of. Closer to them then anyone else she had ever known.  

Even her grandfather. 

Narcissa had a very strained relationship with her grandfather.  She knew deep down he loved her, but he had a hard time showing it.  He was caught in a life of crime, and there was no way out.  

He had been an arms dealer for years, selling guns and other weapons on the black market.  He made a lot of money, but not a lot of friends.  He was a bitter old man, who took all of his anger out on Narcissa.  He had never hit her, but his words were hard enough. 

Narcissa knew she was being abused, and belittled, and manipulated, but she always ended up excusing his actions. Or even worse, sometimes she would place the blame on herself.  She knew she was in a bad situation, but it was one she was stuck in. 

Narcissa talked about him lots with her soulmate.  It turned out, they had a similar situation with their parents.  

Mistreated, abused, bullied, shamed. 

The two escaped into their skin, engrossed with each other.  They held each other right through the pain and the tears.  Though at times, both of them desperately wanted to, they held strong and never hurried themselves for fear of hurting the other. 

---

One day, the straw finally snapped for Narcissa. She was 17 now, and old enough to live her own life. Old enough to understand what her grandfather gave her wasn’t love, it was trauma.  

After he yelled at her for an hour straight because she put a book in the wrong bookshelf, Narcissa decided she had taken enough. 

Can we go?  She desperately scrawled across her ankle. Can we escape these sorry excuses for lives?

Her soulmate wrote back a few minutes later. What do you mean?

We’re old enough to live on our own. Why are we forcing ourselves to live with these people who treat us so terribly. Why don’t we just run away together?

Ok. The reply shocked Narcissa. She had been expecting them to try and convince her otherwise, make her see the absurdity. Not agree.  But Narcissa was glad they agreed. They both deserved a chance to start over. To make a life for themselves, and do it right. 

You will?

With you?  Of course I will silly. I’ve been waiting years for me to ask

When?   When can we leave?

Whenever your ready

A week, Narcissa declared, I’ll meet you in a week at Gatlon City, at the train station

Ok.   I’ll be there, I promise, her soulmate wrote. 

Me too. Narcissa grinned. She was finally escaping. Finally starting fresh. Finally leaving her grandfather to be with someone who truly cared.  Narcissa couldn’t wait.

---

Narcissa creaked the door open, cringing as the hinges squealed loudly. 

“Just where do you think you’re going?”  Her grandfather slurred from the couch. 

Shitshitshitshit, Narcissa though. She was caught.  She was never going to escape her life.

“I told you earlier this week I’m going to a friends house tonight,” Narcissa said lightly, trying to mask her terror. 

“Stop lying!”  He screamed.  “I know that’s not true, you don’t have any friends.”

Narcissa cringed.  

She breathed in deeply.  She was already leaving forever, there was no point in lying anymore.  

“Fine  I’m leaving.  For good.”  She braced herself for the rage. 

Instead, he laughed.  “You?  You're leaving?”  He scoffed.  “You would never.  You’re too scared and dependent on me.”

Narcissa drew herself up.  “No.  You’re wrong.  I’m leaving, to find my soulmate.  We’re making our own life.  Together.”

He gaped at her.  “You can’t!  You can’t go to your soulmate,” he spat.  “You’ll live a terrible life.  You’ll be tied down forever.”

Narcissa shook her head.  “No.  I won’t.  I’ll live the best life I can.  Because I’ll be happy.  I won’t live in fear anymore.  I’m sorry you weren’t meant for your soulmate, but it’s different for me.  I know them.  We are meant for each other.  I wouldn’t expect you to understand.  All you know is hate.”

“So you’re really going?”  Her grandfather’s lip curled up.  

Narrcissa nodded.  “I am.  I’m making my own life, as far away from here as possible.”

“Then go!”  He snarled.  “I don’t want you in my house if you won’t see a reason.  Go.”  He picked a book sitting next to him, and hurled it at Narcissa’s head.  

She ducked, her hair ruffling by the wind.  

She turned to him, tears in her eyes.  “Goodbye grandfather.  I’m sorry.”  She threw open the door, and fled into the night.

---

Narcissa’s heart thudded in her ears.  This was it.  This was the day she was going to meet her soulmate.  She knew she should be realistic, but Narcissa couldn’t help imagining the meeting like something out of the sappy romance novels she liked to read.  

She expected the dreary clouds to disappear, and the sun to shine out on top of them.  

She expected to know exactly who was her other half

She expected to run up, into their arms, and kiss them like she had wanted to be kissed her entire life.  

But Narcissa knew how unlikely it was.  But, a girl could hope, couldn’t she?  

She inhaled deeply.  Uncapping the pen with her teeth, she scrawled on her palm, I’m here  

Me too, her soulmate wrote back.  The familiar loopy red marks eased Narcissa.  She knew this person.  This was her soulmate.  Everything was going to be okay.  It would all be okay.  

Her eyes locked onto a girl standing near a bench, her head bent over her hand, a pen tucked behind her ear.  

Somehow, Narcissa knew.  She knew this was the person she had been searching for her whole life.  She knew that the girl was her soulmate.  

Summoning every miniscule scrap of courage Narcissa could find, she approached the girl.  

She tapped her shoulder.  “Hi,” Narcissa breathed, heart pounding.  “I’m Narcissa.  I think I’m your-”

She was interrupted by the girl throwing her arms around her tightly.  

“I’ve waited so long to meet you,” Narcissa’s soulmate said roughly, her voice thick with tears.  “I’m Danna.”  

Narcissa laughed.  She realized she was crying.  “Me too.”

“I feel like I already know everything about you,” Danna laughed.  She swiped her eyes.  

Narcissa nodded.  “I know we’re soulmates, but I want you to know I understand if you don’t want me,” she said.  “I get it- not all soulmates are really soulmates.”

She was cut off by Danna pressing her lips to hers.  “I want you,” Danna breathed.  “You're the one who I’ve trusted with every secret I’ve ever held.  You’re the one who helped me when no one else could.  You’re the one who took care of me.”  Danna held their hands up, exposing the thick identical scars that spread across their wrists.  “You are the only other person in the world who understood, and actually helped me.  You were the hands that held me.”  Danna reached her hand to Narcissa’s face, wiping away her tears.  “I want you, and no one else.”

“Me too,” Narcissa whispered.  “Me too.”

Tag list: @novissa @thepurpledragon4444  @phobidawg @janisarkisian  @rvbell @lavenderbloo @redassassin  (let me know if you want to be added/taken off!!!)

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Poly!cashton having daily doodle dates. Where everyone doodles on everyone else for fun and to be silly and relax. Naturally people get better at doodling the more they doodle. So one or more of them get GOOD and the boys go sneaking off to get some of the doodles tattooed over after the week they're partner came out for tour and covered their skin in designs. Sometimes they even use doodle time to workshop lyrics so someone can't shower until they find paper to copy it.

this is a fucking soft idea and I love poly!Cashton and I always forget how much I love them so plz send in some requests for these lads thanks

------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe you actually for this tattooed,” Y/N mentioned, her fingers tracing lightly over Calum’s latest tattoo he had gotten on his wrist - a joint drawing that had been done by both Y/N and Ashton a couple of months ago.

“I liked it,” Calum commented. “Plus it reminds me of both of you,” he added, leaning down to press a kiss to Ashton’s bare stomach which he was doodling on. 

“We love you too,” Ashton murmured, knowing exactly what it was that Calum was hinting at with his words. Calum was never the best at expressing his emotions, especially when he loved someone, even to his two partners.

Calum responded to Ashton’s confirmation by placing another kiss to his bare skin before returning to doodling.

“Are you writing again?” Y/N asked, giggling a little at the feeling of Ashton’s pen on the back of her thigh.

“Sorry, got inspired,” Ashton mumbled distractedly.

“Just tickles is all,” Y/N assured him, still holding Calum’s free hand in hers, tapping her pen gently onto the skin beneath his new tattoo as she pondered what else to doodle on him.

“Ash?” Calum questioned after a moment.

“Yeah?” 

“When did you get this?” He asked, pulling his hand free from Y/N’s hold despite her whine of protest since she had just started doodling again.

“Get what?” Ashton asked, still writing on Y/N’s thigh.

“This,” Calum laughed. “The tattoo!” 

“What tattoo?” Y/N questioned, moving but Ashton huffed, tightening his hand around her ankle to prevent her from moving.

“Wait a second,” he muttered, still scribbling. “Done,” as soon as he released his grip on her thigh, Y/N was crawling up to Calum’s level on the carpet to look at what he was looking at.

“Is that what Cal drew on you?” She questioned, watching Calum tracing Ashton’s new tattoo gently with his fingers, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“What? So Calum’s allowed to be sappy and get our doodle tattooed but I’m not?” Ashton countered, a playful smile on his face as he took in the sight of Y/N and Calum.

“Are you crying, Cal?” Y/N asked in wonder when she looked over at Calum’s face to catch his reaction, seeing tears swimming in his eyes.

“No,” he insisted, looking away from the two of them and swiping at his eyes.

“Aw, Cal,” Ashton sat up and wound his arm around Calum, bringing his boyfriend to curl into his chest.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, shuffling so that she was sat in front of him, cupping his cheek in her hands.

“Yeah - sorry.” Calum sniffed and Y/N used her thumbs to wipe his tears away.

“You’re adorable,” Ashton declared, pressing a kiss to the top of Calum’s head and the other man smiled softly, holding out his arms for Y/N to crawl into.

“I love you guys.”

[dvp95]

i don’t want to go

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: teen & up tags: memory loss/amnesia, established relationship, introspection, hurt/comfort word count: 7.4k summary: There are long-term effects of brain injuries, because of course there are. Phil’s got a list in his phone and on the fridge that Dan takes very seriously. It’s more or less a joke to Phil.

a fifth installment of amnesia au? yeah

read on ao3 or here!

Phil has a migraine again.

It's not surprising with the amount of stimulus all around him, but it doesn't stop him from being annoyed by it. He bites his tongue and follows Dan through the shop, making noncommittal noises whenever he holds something up. Dan doesn't seem particularly bothered by Phil's lack of interest.

“Maybe not,” Dan is saying to himself, because he doesn't need Phil in order to carry a conversation.

“Why not?” Phil asks. He doesn't care, really, but he can't keep drifting like he's dreaming, Dan's solid presence the only real tether he's got.

Dan blinks like he's surprised that Phil is contributing. Phil tries not to be irritated by that. It's not fair to Dan when the source is at Phil's temples, behind his eyes, a constant throbbing pain that won't go away until he sleeps.

“We got her something like it a couple years ago,” Dan explains, putting the purse back where he got it from. “She still uses that one, seems silly to get her a new one already.”

“I think girls usually have a few bags,” says Phil.

“Yeah. Doesn't mean we need to supply her habit. Let's keep looking.”

Phil doesn't bother pointing out that he's never met Louise and has no idea what she likes, because Dan is on a mission. They've had to put off the shopping late thanks to check-ins at the hospital and sporadic, unsuccessful house showings with Ellie. Dan has done some shopping online already for both of them, but he’d insisted on at least one afternoon of walking around the shops and buying ridiculous stuff. Tradition, or whatever.

Normally Phil loves Christmas, and shopping for the people he loves is a huge part of that, but right now he just wants to go home and lie down with a heat pack over his eyes.

He locks his jaw so he doesn’t say something he’ll regret and lets Dan lead them through the narrow pathways that this small, overpriced boutique allows. Every time Phil idly tugs at a price tag he feels uncertain and undeserving and, okay, annoyed. That specific combination is more or less his default mood as of late, but it gets exacerbated when he has to deal with a lot of strangers or the familiar dull, insistent pulse of pain in his skull. He’s dealt with migraines his whole life, but they’ve gotten so much more consistent and painful. He’d been warned about that by one of his many doctors - it’s a fun little reminder that his brain doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to anymore.

If Phil said he has a migraine, Dan would take him home immediately. He’d turn off all the lights and shut the blinds and let Phil use his thigh as a pillow; the unscented candles would be lit and Dan’s long fingers would be petting Phil’s hair, rubbing his temples, helping the pain and irritation seep out of Phil’s body.

But, if Phil said he has a migraine, then Dan will also worry, and he will worry loudly. He’ll be quiet while he’s helping Phil, because he’s a good fiancé like that. A good person like that - Phil is sure that Dan would do whatever he could to make anyone feel better, because he’s got a soft heart and relatively good intuition. Then, Phil will fall asleep, or the headache will release him for a little while, and that’s when Dan’s worry gets unbearably loud. Questions about how long it’s been hurting, reminders of things the specialist told them as if Phil wasn’t also in the room, maybe even phone calls if he considers it to be particularly worrisome.

He means well. Phil knows that he means well.

“Perfume isn’t really a good gift,” says Dan. Maybe he’s been talking the whole time that Phil’s been on another planet. There’s no real way to tell. “Not for Louise, she’s too particular.”

“If you say so,” says Phil. He squeezes his eyes shut while Dan’s back is turned, pressing the heel of each palm against them like he can somehow massage the headache away. He doesn’t do it for too long, doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, so after a couple of seconds he returns his hands to his pockets and does his best to ignore their tremor.

--

There are long-term effects of brain injuries, because of course there are. Phil’s got a list of them in his phone and on the fridge, and he’s supposed to say something to Dan or his doctors whenever he experiences them. Dan takes it all very seriously. It’s more or less a joke to Phil.

Memory loss. Well, it hasn’t gotten worse, so Phil counts that as a win.

Loss of balance. Seriously? Phil isn’t going to report every time he trips over his own feet, cracks in the sidewalk, nothing at all.

Mood swings. Phil’s pretty sure that Dan keeps his own record of that, and he has to remind himself not to get grumpy about it or it’ll just be another goddamn entry in the Phil.exe Stopped Working log.

There are more than Phil can easily keep track of, and he’s sure that there are more things that his doctors and specialist and Dan are all watching for. It's frustrating, because he'd rather everything just go back to normal, and he's sure that Dan is only going to work himself up by looking for things that aren't inherently symptoms.

--

Christmas used to be Phil’s favourite time of year. Nothing got him quite as excited as the smell of pine and his mum’s holiday baking. He can tell that Dan likes it too; Dan keeps dragging him places and showing him unfamiliar things and claiming tradition on it all. Phil’s got no reason to be suspicious, but he knows that he would definitely use his fiancé’s lack of knowledge to his advantage, so there’s a part of him that sees six packets of mince pies in their trolley and wonders if he’s being screwed with.

It’s still nice, he supposes. They do up the tree and Dan shows him all their ornaments with the sort of soft dimpling that Phil fell in love with. Back in love with. Whatever. Their flat isn’t decked out the way that it would be if Phil took initiative, but he’s really struggling to muster up excitement for the holiday right now.

Dan notices. Obviously Dan notices. They spend every waking moment together, basically, and Dan knows him well. It would be stranger if he didn’t notice.

“You’ll feel better when we go see your folks,” Dan says, a sad sort of smile curving his pretty mouth. He’s wrapping presents, signing both of their names on all of them, and Phil feels downright useless. He didn’t pick anything out for their friends or families and he can’t even make a cube look as nice as Dan does. “It’s impossible not to be in the spirit around your mum, you know that.”

Familiar dread settles in Phil’s gut, and he shrugs. It’s easier to go back to his notebook than to explain that, actually, the last thing he wants right now is to see his family. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just his parents and Martyn, but it won’t be.

His mum has already texted him a few times to tell him great aunt so-and-so is excited to see him again or that the younger kids in the family know what's going on with him and think it's 'so cool', so Phil is prepared for a deluge of extended family travelling to the Isle. He's never been good at being the center of attention, and he's really not looking forward to an entire week of the What Does Phil Remember game. Even the thought of having Dan with him, celebrating together and being out, something Phil can barely wrap his head around, isn't enough to ease the anxiety.

Dan is looking forward to it, though, and Phil feels guilty for not wanting to spend time with his family, so. He doesn't say anything.

Instead, he turns back to his notebook. He finds things slipping through his fingers so much more easily now than they used to, and he isn’t sure if that’s from the brain injury or from getting old, but he hates it either way. Scribbling things down helps, sometimes, even if it isn’t full sentence journalling. Lots of doodles and half-thoughts mixed in with actually useful things; he’d had a list of potential gifts to get for people that he turned out not to need.

He’s sure that if he’d insisted on picking something out himself, Dan would have been more than supportive. The thing is, Phil is too busy fighting his own body to put effort into talking the world’s most opinionated man out of a bucket hat for Martyn. Dan knows better, anyway.

Maybe that rankles more than Phil wants to admit. Maybe this whole thing, really, rankles.

Phil doesn’t like getting angry. It happens, frequently, but he doesn’t enjoy the feeling. He should be able to enjoy this. He’s got a mug of cocoa and the beginning doodles of a storyboard and a gorgeous man wrapping presents under a gorgeous tree, and it’s his favourite time of the year. If anything, he should be happy. Ecstatic. Grateful.

There’s pressure at Phil’s temples again, and he feels that bubble of anger start to swell. It fills him like a helium balloon from the depths of hell, hot and all-encompassing and sudden.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his teeth. If Dan asks, he’ll just say that he’s tired. He uses that line a lot lately. It’s obvious that Dan doesn’t believe him, and Phil doesn’t make any particular effort to sound more genuine, but Dan hasn’t pushed him on it yet.

That’s good. Phil thinks it’s good, anyway. He doesn’t like being angry, and he doesn’t want to know how it feels to shout at Dan again.

He doesn’t like it, but he is. He is angry. He is so goddamn angry.

--

There are good days, even in the guilty stress of Christmas planning. There are days where Phil can tangle up with Dan and trade lazy kisses, days where he can go to Starbucks alone, days where his mum calls and they talk about everything under the sun just like they used to. Sure, Phil has to be careful not to touch Dan in ways that are instinctive but not welcome, careful to text Dan every ten minutes when he’s out by himself, careful about what he says to his mum so that she doesn’t start to cry, but those aren’t hardships, exactly, and they don’t make Phil’s good days any less good. It’s just harder and harder to brush them off.

It’s like a parasite, the anger. Even when it’s dormant, Phil feels twinges of irritation to things he normally doesn’t mind at all. The sound of Dan humming when he’s puttering around the kitchen is something he’s loved for as long as he can remember, and now it takes actual effort for pre-coffee Phil not to snap at him or leave the room.

Today is a good day. There are no lingering traces of an ache in Phil’s broken head, his parents aren’t adding any stress to his plate, and he can remember why he loves the annoying things Dan does.

Phil is trailing after Dan again, but that’s because he’s been doubled over laughing at something Dan muttered under his breath and they’re trying not to catch each other’s eye so they don’t bust up again. He follows Dan, reluctantly, into an aisle and starts poking at all the health food packages as if they’re suspicious.

“You like quinoa, stupid,” Dan giggles. He gently smacks at Phil’s hands, and Phil tangles their fingers together. It’s just for a moment, because Dan is actually attempting to shop for healthy food despite Phil’s best efforts, but it makes Phil feel lighter than air. He can hold a guy’s hand, however briefly, in a grocery aisle. He can just do that. It’s terrifying and exhilarating every time he does it, and he can’t help but look around them in a wary move that’s ingrained into him no matter what Dan tells him about things changing.

Nobody is paying them any mind at all. The giddiness in his chest spreads through his whole body, and Phil decides that he wants to feel this way all the time. He knows that it isn’t logical, that his life right now has serious stumbling blocks and that he can’t control the mood swings, but he’s old enough to know that optimism is a conscious choice he has to keep making or he’ll become someone he doesn’t like at all.

He wanders off while Dan reads ingredients on something new he wants to try and manages to add three more snacks to the cart before Dan notices.

--

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in there?”

Dan’s voice is quiet and his fingers are running through Phil’s hair. He never comments on the length of it, on the fact that Phil is obviously growing it out, but Phil does wonder if it bothers some part of him. If Dan thinks he’s regressing, or clinging to the parts of himself he can control. Phil doesn’t even have a good rebuttal for that.

“In where?” Phil asks. He’s sleepier than he wants to admit and stubbornly ignoring the way his eyes keep drifting shut. He wants to finish this movie, at least, before he hauls Dan off to bed for a good cuddle.

Dan chuckles softly and gathers Phil’s fringe up to kiss his forehead without a barrier.

“Stupid,” he says, absolutely oozing with fondness. Phil wants to curl up in Dan’s love like a blanket sometimes, a safe haven from the rest of the world. “There's something going on in here.”

His long fingers tap Phil’s forehead, so gentle, and the puzzle pieces click together in Phil’s very tired mind. He laughs and turns his face further into Dan’s shoulder. There’s a million reasons he should keep his feelings to himself, but Dan has a way of slipping past all of Phil’s walls. Right now, in this moment, Phil can’t remember a single one of those million reasons. He yawns and buries his nose into Dan’s collarbone. The trace of mint and musk clinging to Dan’s skin makes him feel even calmer.

This is a safe haven. Phil isn’t much of a talker when it comes to his feelings, but he wants to tell Dan what’s going on with him. He wants to be the kind of husband who can answer that question instead of bottling everything up until it explodes.

“I don’t wanna go away for Christmas,” he whispers it like a secret, right into Dan’s chest.

For a long moment, Dan is quiet. Only the pause of his fingers in Phil’s hair indicate that he heard Phil at all.

“Why?”

There’s hurt and bewilderment in Dan’s voice, because of course there is. Phil is too tired to feel a proper frisson of irritation, but he can’t hold back a sigh. He presses the softest kiss to Dan’s collarbone and comes up to give him a sleepy smile. “Sorry,” he says. “I just mean I want to stay here with you forever.”

It’s the truth, but it’s not the whole truth. Phil watches the quiet confusion in Dan’s big brown eyes turn to mush before he rolls them.

“Alright, if you’re bringing up the F word,” says Dan, “then it’s definitely bedtime.”

“You have a lot of F words,” Phil notes. His smile feels more genuine now. “Famous, forever��”

Dan shudders dramatically and presses his fingers into Phil’s ticklish sides to make him laugh, too loud for the time of night.

“Fuck you,” Dan says, dimples in full force. “C’mon. Bed.”

“There’s still like half an hour left,” Phil protests. He doesn’t actually care much about the ending of the movie, but it’s fun to dig his heels in and get Dan all fond and exasperated. He can’t bite back his grin fast enough.

“You don’t care,” Dan laughs and stands up, turning off the TV sometime in the process. Phil is very impressed by the multitasking.

“I don’t,” Phil agrees. He’s all too happy to leave the topic of Christmas on the sofa, in the twinkling lights of their objectively very pretty tree. He pulls Dan into a soft, lingering kiss and then gestures at the ceiling as if it’s an explanation. “Mistletoe,” he says, and then darts around Dan to get to the bathroom first.

They haven’t hung any mistletoe. Dan’s bark of a laugh follows him through the quiet, dark flat and makes every corner of it feel brighter.

--

In the morning, Dan looks up from his phone. “Were you serious about not going anywhere for Christmas?”

Phil hasn’t had his coffee and there’s a twinge behind his left eye, so all he can really manage to do without scowling is shake his head. It seems to be the answer Dan was looking for, anyway, since it makes his shoulders relax and his lips curve up a bit. Phil feels a little guilty for lying and some irrational annoyance at Dan for not being able to tell, but he focuses on his coffee and on that pretty pink patch on Dan’s cheek to ground himself.

--

Through his whole life, Phil has never liked hospital or being prodded at by doctors, but he’d gotten off easy before now. He’s found himself sitting on a flat mattress or an uncomfortable chair in the past six months far more often than he ever wanted to. They run tests and they ask him questions and never figure anything out.

It’s a surefire way to get Phil’s migraines to make an appearance. The combination of fluorescent lights, difficult conversation, and stress from the lack of any progress hasn’t failed to make it feel like someone is jackhammering his frontal lobe yet.

Dan has a hard time sitting still at the best of times, so he tends to pace around the room whenever they have these appointments. Even so, he manages to hold the thread of what the doctors say better than Phil can. It’s probably important for Phil to be paying attention to what his neurologist is saying, since he’s here to follow up with her after his last episode, but Phil is having such a hard time concentrating lately. Especially when it’s the same stuff, over and over again: they don’t know what’s causing this, common things keep getting ruled out, he’s a mystery but he’s not in any danger, etc.

They’re starting to sound like Charlie Brown’s parents to Phil at this point. He relies on Dan to tell him the important bits later.

Normally the various doctors he’s seen since he first fainted haven’t minded if he zones out a bit. They call it a symptom and say his concentration isn’t going to be what it used to be, don’t accept Dan’s apologies for it, but the truth is that Phil just can’t listen to them talk about him like they’re verbally shrugging and not lose his entire mind. Today, though, his neurologist makes a point of getting his attention.

“Phil,” she says, and Phil realises that he doesn’t actually know her name.

“Sorry, what?”

She doesn’t sigh, but Phil imagines it’s a close call. Dan stops his pacing around the room and stands with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, giving his full attention even though he isn’t being spoken to.

“Phil,” she says again. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?” Phil asks.

Her lips twitch. “In general. I know this whole experience must be a lot for you, and I was wondering if you were talking to anyone about it.”

“I talk to you guys,” says Phil, gesturing around her office to indicate the doctors as a whole. “And to Dan, and my family.”

Phil doesn’t make a habit of lying to his doctors, but he hates that it does feel like a lie to say he talks to his family about his feelings. They’re just… in mourning, basically, for someone that Phil will probably never be again. Dan is too, but he’s a lot more open and easy to talk to. He sees Dan’s eyebrows raise at the answer and has to hold back a giggle.

“I was actually asking if you’re in the process of seeing a psychiatrist,” the neurologist clarifies. Phil’s brief amusement from the exchange sours quickly. He’s not sure what the doctor and Dan see on his face, but she’s quick to keep talking. “You’ve gone through a trauma, Phil, and it’s very normal to struggle with it. Talking to someone unbiased and professional can be a helpful way to wrap your mind around what you’re going through.”

There’s something she isn’t saying, as well. Phil hears it anyway. He has a suspicion that his doctors think his memories could come back if he goes to therapy, like he’s repressed them or something instead of them being stolen from him.

Phil doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep the frustration out of his voice if he does.

“That’s a good idea,” Dan says, more to Phil than to the doctor.

Of course Dan thinks it’s a good idea. Dan goes to therapy and enjoys it. Well, okay, ‘enjoy’ is a strong word. It benefits Dan, gives him tools that he can use on days where getting out of bed feels impossible, gives him an emotional outlet that he desperately needs. Dan feels things so strongly and so deeply that it scares Phil, sometimes.

Phil… doesn’t. He’s got better things to do with his time than worry about the why and how of every fleetingly wayward emotion - he’d rather push it down, move past it, on his own time. He imagines spilling his guts to a complete stranger and almost laughs. He can’t even tell his mother how he feels about being treated like a circus freak or tell his fiancé how he feels about celebrating Christmas this year. Hell, Phil doesn’t even tell waitstaff when they bring him the wrong thing. It’s funny to picture him laid on a sofa and laying out his whole life for someone to poke and prod at.

He knows he’s still making a face, and he sees something in Dan’s shutter. Phil taps his own knee at the same time that Dan taps his own finger against his forearm. One, two. We’ll talk about this later.

“Can I ask something that might sound a bit rude?”

“You can ask anything you’d like,” Phil’s neurologist says. She looks inordinately surprised by him even offering to speak, which almost makes Phil laugh again.

“Well, I just,” Phil starts. He doesn’t like the way Dan is staring daggers at him like he’s waiting for Phil to make a wrong move. Purposefully, he angles his body away from Dan to talk directly to the doctor. “I just want to know. Are we running out of things to do here? On the medical side of things, I mean. Is this a last resort, might as well try it, sort of thing? Or do you genuinely think that my brain will work better if I let someone analyze it every week?”

Dan makes some kind of noise. Phil ignores it.

“I believe that psychiatry is a very important tool for recovery in many of my patients,” she says. To Phil, that sounds a lot like a non-answer. He’s pretty well-versed in those himself.

“Okay,” he says, trying to keep his tone level. “So you think this is all in my head?”

“Only in the sense that your head is where you keep your brain,” she says, rather kindly. “And your brain has been through a lot. Traumatic brain injuries can affect you months and even years after the original incident, and I was only suggesting that you consider an avenue that has helped others with symptoms and difficulties following such an enormous thing.”

“I don’t have any difficulties,” Phil says, stubborn. He can feel Dan’s gaze and already knows what he’s thinking, but this isn’t a knee-jerk reaction. He doesn’t think he needs to go to therapy.

“It’s up to you, entirely your decision,” she says, which makes a tense part of Phil relax. He knows that logically, but his anxiety appreciates it being said out loud. “I’ll give you some reading to take home about the benefits of therapy while your brain is in recovery mode, okay? Take some time to think about it before you dismiss it.”

The topic changes to something about blood work that Phil has already heard, so he feels comfortable zoning back out.

He chances a glance at Dan, who is practically vibrating with things that he’s surely desperate to say. Phil taps his own knee again to circumvent the argument happening in front of one of his doctors and watches as Dan’s jaw clenches.

--

Irritability. Phil keeps his eyes fixed on the window in the backseat of their Uber so he doesn’t have to look at Dan. He’s got a throb in his temple and every time Dan makes a noise like he’s about to talk, it makes irrational annoyance spike through Phil. He doesn’t want to snap, but he thinks he might if Dan actually speaks to him. Luckily, the drive is without incident.

Anxiety. Well, Phil already had that going for him, so there’s no way to tell if the brain injury made it worse. The silence between them in the lift lassos Phil’s Worst Case Scenario thoughts into the forefront of his mind. What if Dan has finally had enough of this?

Impaired social skills. The door shuts behind them and Dan turns to face him, hands on his hips. Phil lingers for four whole seconds and then murmurs something about taking a nap, escaping downstairs.

Phil lies on his stomach with his face buried in Dan’s pillow and wonders exactly how many side effects he can check off today. He’s clearly already fucked things up.

--

Obviously, Dan doesn’t let him get away with wallowing alone.

“We’re talking now,” he says, firm. Phil noses further into the pillow for a moment and considers not responding. It isn’t that he wants to make Dan angry, it’s that he doesn’t want to get angry himself, and staying quiet seems like the most effective way to stay calm.

He knows Dan won’t accept that, though. Dan isn’t the type to walk away from Phil, no matter what mood he’s in.

So Phil sighs, rolling onto his back. “I don’t want to go.”

“I can tell,” Dan huffs. “I really think you should, though. Therapy is -”

“No,” Phil cuts him off. He interrupts Dan more often than he interrupts anyone else - due in part to the sheer amount of time that Dan spends talking - but he never likes doing it when they’re having a serious conversation. His head hurts, though, and he can’t lie here and listen to Dan espouse all the wonderful things about getting psychoanalyzed when that’s only a little bit what this is about. “No, Dan, I’m not just talking about therapy.”

A beat. The mattress dips where Dan sits down, but they don’t reach for each other yet. “Okay. What else are you talking about?”

“I don't want to go to the Isle,” Phil tells the ceiling, because that's easier than watching the disappointment crest over Dan's face. “I don’t want everybody asking me questions and looking older and making me feel like I’m broken. I get enough of that here.”

“Excuse me?” Dan asks, and Phil squeezes his eyes shut like he won’t be able to hear the hurt in Dan’s voice if he can’t see. Dan’s palm presses to his thigh, making him jump a bit. “Phil, hey, no. Look at me.”

Phil bites his lip and sits up. He takes a couple of breaths before he opens his eyes, though, letting his anxiety run rampant on what kind of emotions he’s going to see in Dan’s big brown eyes when he does. In the end, it’s primarily confusion. The bad things are there, too, the hurt and disappointment and maybe anger, but it seems like Dan is mostly just unsure why Phil is saying the things he’s saying.

“I don’t want to see my family,” Phil whispers, swallowing around the guilt rising like bile in his throat.

“You love your family,” says Dan. “And you love Christmas.”

“I do,” Phil agrees. His voice is still quiet, like someone other than Dan might hear him if he says it any louder. Dan’s mouth twists unhappily. He tangles his fingers with Phil’s and squeezes, just on the edge of too tight.

“So what’s the deal? I don’t understand.” The admission seems to take something out of Dan. He curls closer to Phil and rests the back of his free hand against Phil’s forehead.

“I don’t have a fever, Dan,” says Phil. He doesn’t duck away from the attention, though, because Dan pushes his fringe off his forehead and leans in to kiss it. The simple action quiets the noise in Phil’s mind so much that he smiles a little bit. “And I’m not going to fucking break, y’know, but I might if I have to be around so many people I barely even know anymore while my head pounds and they act like I’m a teenager.”

Something like comprehension hits Dan’s expression, but he still isn’t happy. “You do know them, though.”

“Not really,” Phil says with a little shrug. “I love them. I’d rather see them separately, though. I don’t want to feel like an animal in a zoo or something, babe.”

“So, what, you want to just stay home?” Dan asks.

His tone makes it sound like that’s ridiculous, unheard of. Phil looks down at their joined hands and lets himself really think about it. What would his family really do if he claimed not to be up for travelling? They’d be disappointed, obviously, and some of them might lay the guilt on a little strong, but.

But. Phil can see it. Christmas morning in this bed, legs tangled with Dan’s and trading lazy bribes for who has to get up and make coffee. Giving Dan his gift under the tree they decorated together, watching the way he’d light up, doing sappy things like dancing to carols in a kitchen they don’t own. It sounds infinitely better than his cousins asking him questions he doesn’t know the answer to and trying not to jump every time Dan holds his hand in front of family members.

“I do,” Phil says, as honest as he knows how to be. “You’re my family, you dork. I want to spend Christmas with you.”

“I’ll be with you wherever we go,” Dan reminds him.

Phil knows that, but it isn’t the same. He doesn’t have to play a role when it’s just him and Dan. He can be a little grumpy and headachy without being paraded around afterwards. He can feel a sense of himself in his favourite holiday instead of forcing himself into a role that he isn’t sure suits him anymore.

“The whole thing has been making me anxious for, like, weeks,” Phil admits. Dan’s brow furrows, but Phil doesn’t have the energy to feel bad for keeping that from him. “I want a lowkey Christmas. I want to just… spend the day with you and make our own traditions and give you the only present I was able to pick out myself. I don’t want to deal with coming out or, I dunno, hearing about all the tragedies I’ve been so fucking lucky to miss out on being around for. I’ll have a headache all week, Dan, and you must know that.”

For a long moment, Dan doesn’t say anything. He raises their joined hands to his mouth and presses soft kisses over the back of Phil’s hand.

“I didn’t know that,” Dan says, quiet. The disappointment is still obvious in his expressive eyes. Phil is fairly sure that Dan couldn’t hide genuine emotion if he tried.

Phil thinks about Dan teasing his mum over not being able to find an app, trading friendly jabs with his dad, making his brother laugh so hard that he’d doubled over at the table, and he realises that this is disappointing to Dan for more than the standard reasons.

He doesn’t know much about Dan’s family - only as much as Dan is willing to share on any given day, which is barely anything at all - but he knows how Dan feels about Phil’s family. Now he’s got a whole new guilt complex. Maybe he ought to suck it up, for Dan’s sake, so that Dan can spend Christmas getting spoiled rotten by Phil’s parents and he can know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.

“I’ll tell you what,” says Phil. He squeezes Dan’s hand. “If you stay home this Christmas with me, and maybe do dinner with your family or with our friends instead of travelling, then I’ll go to therapy. I won’t even complain.”

Dan makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sob and rubs at his eyes with his free hand. “You will,” he says.

“I will,” Phil agrees with a sheepish smile. “But… this is what I want. And I’m sorry.”

“I’ll think about it,” says Dan. Phil has been living in this flat long enough to know that I’ll think about it is basically an acquiescence from Dan, since he tends to make his mind up quick and firm. Dan must see that relief on Phil’s face, because he laughs and leans in for a kiss. “Okay, okay, it’s a good deal. I can even recommend a therapist.”

--

Phil understands why Dan feels comfort here as soon as he sits down. The small office has cushy chairs and a neutral palette, surely designed to put anyone at ease. Phil can see the personal details around it that he knows helped Dan specifically, though. The bookshelf, overflowing with biographies and small giraffe statues; the diplomas bracketing a framed vinyl that Phil doesn’t recognise but is certain that Dan appreciates; the friendly fern in the corner that practically waves at him when the door opens and shuts.

“Hi, Phil,” the young woman says. Her tone is polite but warm, less like a customer service agent and more like a friend of a friend. Her thin dark braids are pulled up into some sort of updo that looks extremely complicated to Phil at a glance. She’s wearing blue jeans and a blouse with birds on it, and Phil can’t help but point to the pattern on his own shirt.

“We match,” he jokes weakly. Surely she can only see his collar, because Dan’s borrowed jacket is obscuring most of his own birds, but she smiles anyway.

“That’s a funny coincidence,” she says, taking a seat. She’s almost directly across from him, but Phil can see the light filtering through the blinds and the happy leaves of her fern clearly if he doesn’t want to look her in the eye. “I’m Robin.”

“I knew that already,” says Phil. He can’t help the apologetic edge, even if he’s not sure what he’s apologising for. Knowing her name? Being here? Imposing on what should be Dan’s space because he’s more broken than he originally thought and doesn’t know how to trust a stranger? Phil wants to verbalise exactly zero percent of that, so he shrugs his shoulders to indicate that he’s sorry and doesn’t want to acknowledge being sorry.

There’s a moment of silence, but Phil doesn’t feel the need to fill it. He wonders if that’s her tactic with Dan, giving him as much opportunity to spill his guts as she possibly can. That probably works well enough for him. The silence just sort of makes Phil itchy.

Finally, Robin nods. She fiddles with her phone for a moment before placing it face-down on the arm of her chair. There’s a notebook in her lap, but she doesn’t open it.

“Okay, so,” she starts, and Phil has to look down at his own hands so he doesn’t look right in her wide, dark eyes. This is nerve-wracking enough without eye contact added onto it. “Today, you and I are just going to get to know each other a little bit. You’ll get a feel for the process more quickly than you’d expect. I’d just like to go over our confidentiality agreement with you first, if that’s alright.”

Phil nods back at her, eyes still glued to his chewed-down nails.

There’s a voice, and surely words are said, but Phil doesn’t retain any of it. He feels a familiar stirring of anger and does his best to ignore it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, genuine. He looks at her mouth to try and really see the words that she’s trying to say. He knows that they’re important, knows that they can’t move forward with this until he hears them. “Can you repeat that? I didn’t…”

He trails off, but Robin smiles encouragingly anyway. “Of course I can, Phil. If I ever say anything that you need me to repeat or if I’m moving too quickly for you, just let me know. And always remember that interrupting me is totally fine, I don’t mind. You’re the one in control here.”

“Thank you.”

Phil kind of wants to make a joke about her interruption rule and Dan, but despite Robin’s assurance of control, he’s not sure that he’d be allowed to. He’s still working through that thought process when he realises that her mouth has stopped moving again and she’s watching him so carefully.

It’s hard not to jump to immediate anger and embarrassment, but Phil swallows those down with his pride and says, “I’m really, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… understand again.”

Robin hums and opens her notebook. For a heart-stopping couple of seconds, Phil is convinced that she’s writing horrible things about him for her colleagues to read later. Of course, that doesn’t happen - the things that Phil’s anxiety convinces him of rarely do - and instead, she simply hands him a ripped-out page. It takes a couple of tries for Phil’s head to stop swimming before he can actually read it.

“That’s our confidentiality clause,” Robin says easily. “Take as much time as you need to absorb it, and then let me know if you have any questions.”

There’s a lump in Phil’s throat at the kind gesture, and he has to take a deep breath before he can focus on the words. He’s never been to therapy before, but nothing about the confidentiality part of it is surprising to him. He can understand, at least, why they have to go over it, and he’s grateful that it’s in plain words for him.

“I don’t have any questions,” he says. He holds the paper out, but Robin shakes her head.

“You can keep that, if you’d like.”

Robin doesn’t say in case you forget again or because you need it. Phil folds the paper into one of Dan’s jacket pockets.

“There’s not a clock in here,” Phil notices. He’d wanted to see how long it took him to absorb such simple information, but it’s kind of a relief not to be able to find one. “I don’t really like clocks.”

“Neither do I,” Robin says, and he thinks she’s just trying to relate to him until she shudders and adds, “They remind me of exams, you know? And watching it tick down gives me some anxiety.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“I keep time on my phone,” she explains, tapping a short fingernail against the back of her phone case. “A quiet beep is going to go off every fifteen minutes so that we both have a better structure of the hour we have together. If that bothers you, I have other methods of timekeeping that don’t involve watching a second hand tick down.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” Phil says honestly. Robin smiles at him in an encouraging sort of way, but he doesn’t have anything he wants to add.

The beat of quiet is left on purpose, he’s sure, before Robin speaks again. “Alright, Phil, let’s get to know each other a little bit. I’d also like to hear what you’re looking to get out of this experience, since I understand the goal here is to be referred to someone permanently?”

Phil doesn’t know about ‘permanently’. He nods anyway.

“Yeah, I think… I thought it would be helpful to see you, since you’re,” he says, and then he can’t figure out how he wants to end the sentence. Since she knows him already, sort of, and knows the situation, and because Dan trusts her and Phil trusts Dan. He decides to finish his thought instead of bothering to find the right words. He’s sure that Robin is smart enough to fill in some blanks herself. “But I know it would be weird for Dan if I kept seeing you. He didn’t say it would be weird, but. It would be. I figured this would be a good…”

He trails off again, twiddling his thumbs, and this time Robin makes a suggestion. “Stepping stone?”

“Yeah, kind of. Is that bad?”

“Nothing you say is bad,” Robin says, almost as if it’s knee-jerk. “I think it’s very telling of how considerate you are, actually. I do a lot of intake for referrals, which you might know or might not, so this isn’t a strange situation for me. I imagine it’s stranger for you.”

Phil laughs. “A little bit, yeah. I don’t really know… what to do.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about yourself,” says Robin. She closes the notebook and sets it aside, absent-minded body language that already makes Phil feel more comfortable. It feels less like he’s being analyzed when there isn’t the chance of her scribbling down things he says.

“You already know a lot about me, though. Probably more than I do.”

“I think,” Robin says, and then takes a moment to think before she continues. “I think, Phil, that you’ve had enough people telling you who you are. I want to know who you think you are.”

Another lump in his throat. Phil swallows hard and looks at the fern in the corner, because that’s easier than looking Robin in the eye. There are a lot of things he could say about his sense of who he is and about how it’s felt to be told about himself for the past few months, but all of it feels too personal. He knows that’s what he’s here to do, to talk about his feelings, but that doesn’t mean he’s comfortable with it.

“I’m Phil,” he tells the plant. “I like Buffy and making videos and I really want a dog but I have to buy a house first.”

--

Fatigue. It’s impossible to tell if it’s a symptom or a deep-seated desire to keep Dan in bed longer when Phil has a hard time waking up on Christmas morning. He presses his weight against Dan and nuzzles into his sensitive neck and pretends like he’s not on the verge of falling back asleep at any moment.

Reduced concentration span. Phil has to look at the first couple pages of the scrapbook a few times before it really sinks in. Even then, he still can’t focus on the words. He understands what he’s looking at, sees the Skype usernames and the timestamps from 2009 and his own familiar use of emoticons, but he can’t actually read it right now. He’s too overwhelmed by the gesture. Overwhelmed, too, by how gorgeous Dan looks in his long shirt and bunny slippers and curls an absolute mess and dimples so deep that Phil wants to poke at them. He can’t help but launch himself at Dan in a move that feels, somehow, familiar.

Impulsiveness. Phil might not be an expert on picking presents for his friends or family members anymore, but he knows Dan now. Dan’s fingers are shaky as they flatten out the flight confirmations, and his voice is even shakier when he says, “Tokyo?”

There’s a list of symptoms on their fridge. For the first time since it was put there, Phil doesn’t feel like he’s under a microscope. It’s a good Christmas.

[bakedpieceofchicken]

YES THIS IS @inexchangeforyoursoul‘S FAULT AND YES THEIR ART IS AMAZING WHY DONT YOU GO CHECK IT OUT ALREADY AND (EVEN THO THE POST I LINKED HAS IT) IM ALSO GOING TO LINK THE AMAZING FIC SOMEONE ELSE WROTE FOR IT!!!

Word Count: 3,173

Summary: Sako becomes unexpectedly acquainted with his colleague’s son.

notes: i have never written mr. compress in detail before this, just a warning. oh well, let’s see :^)

There was a knock on the door.

Keigo’s wings perked up in response to the unexpected noise. The little winged boy, distracted from the TV show he had been watching, stood up on the couch with both feet (dad would definitely yell at him if he weren’t asleep right now). He looked at the door--and then looked at the littered floor space between the couch and the door.

Keigo launched himself off the couch, using his wings to guide him above the floor to the door in only one magnificent leap. Alright, maybe it could be considered cheating that he was using his quirk. Nobody was keeping count, though.

Giddy that he made it (he knew he would but it still made him happy knowing he achieved such an impressive feat), he opened the door slightly and peaked his head out (just like how dad taught him)...

...to a stranger he didn’t recognize. Disappointment hit Keigo like a truck.

“You’re not mom,” Keigo told the man, frowning.

Sako blinked at Keigo, slightly startled at the sight of the child. Takami never mentioned having a son and Sako certainly never suspected the man of having one.

The boy didn’t look like his father too much but there were still some distinct similarities that made it undoubtedly clear that they were related by blood.

“I’m afraid not,” Sako said with a deeply sympathetic tone, taking off his hat and slightly bowing politely to the boy. “My name is Sako Atsuhiro. I’m a colleague of your father’s and I came to discuss work-related business with him. Is he around?”

“He’s sleeping right now,” Keigo said. “He doesn’t like being woken up.”

“...Should I come another time, then?” Sako asked. “What time would be appropriate?”

Keigo shrugged. “Sometimes he’ll be asleep for an hour and sometimes he’ll be asleep for ten.”

That did sound like the sleeping schedule of the erratic man Sako was horribly familiar with. “Ah.”

“You can come in though,” Keigo said. “If you want.” He opened the door wider this time, allowing Sako to see the absolute massive mess that was their apartment.

Used food cartons unceremoniously thrown around on the ground, empty bottles of alcohol all over the place--was that broken glass on the floor in the middle of the living room?

It was even worse than what Sako had imagined Takami’s living space would look like. He had a child living with him, for goodness sake.

“Don’t step on that spot.” Keigo pointed to the area with the broken glass. “Dad says the pieces are sharp and you could cut your feet there.”

Well, the pieces wouldn’t because Sako was still wearing his thick-soled shoes. He appreciated the kind sentiment of the child, though. It was terribly endearing and so... different from his father.

“Thank you for the warning, my boy.” Sako ruffled the child’s hair. “Do you have a name that I could call you by?”

“Takami Keigo,” Keigo answered, floating himself above the ground to the couch. The couch was nice; it was his safe spot away from the rest of the apartment. “You’re the first person I’ve met who wants to visit dad. The only other person who ever visited was mom.”

Not surprising. Sako wouldn’t consider Takami to be a very sociable man. “Where is that mother of yours?”

“I don’t know,” Keigo answered in a genuinely naive tone. “She left and then never came back.”

Sako winced at the brutal honesty. The situation had become quite clear to him, now. Sako sighed, taking another glance around the apartment filled with trash. Oh, Takami... what a failure of a father you appeared to be. This just won’t do, will it?

“Do you want to see a little trick I can do?” Sako asked the child with a wink. Keigo’s eyes lit up with interest and Sako felt pride swell in his chest for having made some form of light return in the boy’s eyes. 

“What kind of trick?”

“Well, if I told you now, it’d be spoiling the show, wouldn’t I?” Sako shouted, raising his arms in a grand gesture. He plucked the remote from the couch and turned off the TV. “Are you ready to watch the show?”

Keigo brightly smiled in anticipation. “Yeah!” He said, having appeared to be more excited than ever. He bounced in his seat on the couch, eyes locked onto Sako, and Sako was oddly sentimental about the fact that he was performing for someone else again.

“Let the show begin!”

--

“Hi, Sako-san,” Keigo politely greeted, opening the door at the sight of the man. “Dad’s not here at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” Sako said. “Do you mind if I...?”

“No!” Keigo gestured for Sako, “Come in!”

Sako stepped into the apartment, examining it once again for any changes since his last visit. Keigo ran to his spot on the couch again, looking at him expectantly.

“Are you going to do another trick?” Keigo asked. “I wanna see!”

Oh, the crushing guilt Sako felt at that moment. Of course, the boy wanted to see him perform again. He was so enraptured the last time Sako saw him--and he kept asking about how Sako pulled his tricks off. Sako replied to all those questions with the same answer: A magician never reveals his secrets!

Which made the boy quite irritated, but Sako was not a lenient man when it came to the art of his practice.

“Your father should be home soon,” Sako said after glancing at his watch to keep track of the time. “There wouldn’t be enough time, I’m afraid.”

Keigo’s face scrunched up and those wings of his drooped in disappointment. If his goal was to guilt-trip Sako even further, than he’s certainly achieved that in no less than five seconds. How keen of him to manipulate Sako’s emotions like that, intentional or unintentional.

“Well, maybe I have time for one trick...”

It was rather amazing how a child’s mood can fluctuate wildly within such a small span of time. Keigo’s wings perked up immediately and the child’s eyes lit brightly in comparison to the dullness that once occupied them. He didn’t smile, but he was visibly cheered up at the prospect.

“Watch closely,” Sako ordered the boy. He pulled out a small piece of paper and a black pen from his coat pocket. He drew a little bird and showed Keigo his drawing. It was a silly little doodle, nothing too amazing. That wasn’t the point of the trick.

He took one of the empty bottles from the floor, rolled up the piece of paper and inserted it into the bottle. Keigo watched him, observant eyes focused on the movements of his hands.

Sako then placed the bottle on the living room table in plain sight where Keigo could see it. His gloved hands blocked Keigo's view of the bottle and the bottle magically disappeared in between his hands that moved apart from each other.

“You turned the bottle into a marble,” Keigo complained. “That’s the most obvious trick you could’ve pulled off!”

“Oh?” Sako grinned deviously. “Why don’t you check what’s under your seat, then?”

Keigo blinked before hesitantly standing up from the couch and lifting the couch cushion to reveal an empty coffee can.

“Look inside,” Sako said and the man could see the realization visibly dawning upon the boy. It was quite amusing, he had to admit.

Keigo, already having a good idea of what was going to happen, shook the can and out came the rolled up piece of paper. He unfolded it and his face displayed visible shock at the drawn bird.

“No way!” Keigo shouted, jumping. He showed the drawing to Sako with a look of disbelief. “There’s no way! How did you do that?”

Sako only smirked smugly in response, causing the winged boy to huff in annoyance at the lack of verbal response. “One of these days, I’m going to figure it out! I bet you have a second, secret quirk!”

“That’s quite the theory,” Sako said. “Unfortunately, it’s not true. Ask your father if you really don’t believe me.”

“I bet dad doesn’t even know!” Keigo added. “You can’t keep it a secret from us forever!”

The door opened, revealing Takami (who was fashionably late by ten minutes). He blinked at the sight of Sako and his rather riled-up son together.

“Am I interrupting something?”

--

Takami was sleeping soundly on the armchair, snoring loudly and reeking of alcohol.

Sako had decided (against Keigo’s warnings) to try to wake the man, but the man was a heavy sleeper. He decided to give up after five minutes of trying to wake him up to no avail.

“You’re lucky,” Keigo told him. “He gets really mad if you actually do wake him up.”

“That’s how that happened.” Keigo pointed to the area with broken glass, which still had not been cleaned up. It had been weeks now.

“My, oh my,” Sako shook his head in disapproval. He took one of the plastic bags lying on the floor and started to pick up the individual pieces of the broken bottle with his gloved hands. “Do you happen to have a broom in the vicinity?”

“No,” Keigo said. “Sorry.”

It’s not your place to apologize, Sako thought sourly. He felt pity for the boy, if he had to be honest. This apartment was definitely not in suitable living condition for any children.

“Is... is there any way I can help?” Keigo asked. He bent down besides Sako and tried to pick up one of the pieces with his bare hands--

Sako grabbed him by the wrist. “Don’t,” he hissed to the boy. “You’ll cut yourself.”

“It’d be faster if I helped,” Keigo said. “I’ll be super careful, I promise!”

“No,” Sako smoothly said. “This isn’t a job for children. Why don’t you go back to watching television?”

“I’m not a kid,” Keigo argued. “Okay, I’m five. But dad says I’m really mature for my age! So I can do grown-up things too!”

“Go.” Sako swatted Keigo away. “This is non-negotiable.”

Keigo pouted and watched the TV with a disgruntled look on his face. After Sako was finished cleaning up the glass, he began to pick up the other trash that resided in the apartment. Keigo watched him with observant eyes and Sako sighed dramatically.

“Yes, you may help if you wish.”

That got Keigo scattering to pick up as many cans and bottles as fast as he could, almost as if he was playing a game with himself. The child was so fast that he was cleaning up at an even faster rate than the leisurely slow pace Sako had set for himself.

“Too slow!” Keigo taunted Sako with a grin. “Looks like I win!”

There was never any game that had been decided in the first place. Sako wasn’t one to ruin a child’s moment of victory, however. Meanwhile, Takami slept peacefully in his chair, oblivious to the world and his son who noticeably deserved a much better father.

--

Sako was a man of many talents, and cooking just happened to be one of them.

Takami was nowhere to be seen (not unusual), but Sako found that he didn’t mind. His son was a much better companion, anyways.

The child seemed to be in quite a lot of awe at his slice and dice technique. It wasn’t magic; no, not in the slightest. Keigo was impressed nonetheless.

“All the pieces came out evenly!” Keigo noted. “Can I try?”

“No,” Sako said without skipping a beat. Keigo had been trying to use his wings to elevate himself to where he could reach the knife that he left on the cutting board on the counter top, so he used a hand to force the child back down to the floor.

“No fair,” Keigo whined. “I never get to do any of the grown-up stuff.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Sako scolded Keigo. “Trust me when I say that doing ‘grown-up’ things isn’t as sensational as one would make it out to be.”

“Now, be a good child and wait in your seat.”

“You can’t make me,” Keigo said. “You’re not my dad.”

True, true.

“Yes, but I’m cooking for you out of my own hospitality. The least you can do is let me work my craft.” Then, Sako had an idea.

“Think of it like this: you don’t interrupt a magician when he’s performing on stage, do you?”

“...No,” Keigo said.

“Exactly!” Sako pointed to the seat on the couch. “After you, my valued audience member.”

Keigo was rather compliant after that, waiting by the couch but his eyes weren’t on the television. He watched Sako cook with curious eyes and an even more curious mouth if the questions that slipped out of the child were anything to go by.

Ah, the innocence of youth. How Sako missed it. Keigo was a good reminder of the children Sako used to perform for.

Keigo gaped when Sako set down the plates. “Nobody’s cooked ever since mom left.”

The little smile that came with the first bite warmed Sako’s heart. He was certainly no father by any means and he never planned on ever having a child; but Keigo made him wish that he had a son he could cook for, a son that he could perform tricks for and a son that he could live for.

“Thanks, Sako-san!” Keigo chirped, looking at Sako with such appreciation and admiration in his eyes that it almost hurt to watch. 

All he did was feed a child. Apparently, that was the world to Keigo more than anything his father might have done for him in months.

--

“You’re good with kids,” Takami said. “Real good.”

“Well, I’d hope that is the case,” Sako stated. “Considering my former occupation and whatnot.”

“It’s annoying,” Takami scoffed. “That kid constantly asks about you all the time now. It’s starting to grate on my nerves.”

Perhaps if you took better care of your son, he wouldn’t be asking for my company so much then, Sako thought. He always knew Takami had a bit of a reckless side to him, but he didn’t realize how irresponsible the man could be. Especially considering the man was in charge of a little boy now.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Sako sighed. “I can’t help what the boy wants, after all.”

“I want you to stop barging into my apartment unannounced,” Takami said. “It’s my house. I never gave you permission to come and go as you please. I thought you were supposed to be the polite one.”

“I wouldn’t need to barge into your apartment unannounced if you would just keep to your word about our meeting times,” Sako said. “Ever heard of the word ‘punctuality’? No, I’m guessing you haven’t.”

Takami growled--he growled as if he had a right to be mad about the bullshit Sako had called him out on--and he slammed the can of beer he had been drinking out of against the table. “That doesn’t give you the right to speak to my son!”

Oh, how things have escalated. This was a rather troublesome development, Sako had to admit. “If it bothers you so much,” Sako had to remind himself that Keigo is not his responsibility, “then I won’t talk to your son again. Though I ask of you to make a more conscious effort to meet with me at the times you prescribe me.”

“Deal,” Takami grunted. “Glad that’s done and over, then.” The man finished the can of beer in one swig.

--

Sako tried not to let himself think about Keigo.

Keigo wasn’t his son. He wasn’t his responsibility. Yet, there was this certain guilt that occupied Sako’s mind whenever he was even reminded of the boy’s existence. It was hard to go through an entire day without thinking about the fate of the winged boy.

So, one day, Sako asked, “How’s Keigo doing?” because it was a little suspicious how the man didn’t seem concerned in the slightest about returning home despite it having been hours since he was last home.

“Oh, that little bugger?” Takami grunted. “He’s out of my hands already.”

Sako froze. “Excuse me?”

“The government took him away,” Takami said. “Keigo went and saved this group o’ kids or something and apparently one of the agents saw that he had ‘potential’ in him to become a hero.”

“Him? A hero?” It wasn’t that Keigo didn’t have potential (oh, he most certainly had potential). It was that... well...

“Yeah, well,” Takami spat on the ground, “I signed their damn contract. It’s what his mom would’ve wanted, anyways.”

“And what will you do when the boy finds out about your true occupation?” Sako asked. “Does he even know?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Takami said. “I’m not that stupid.”

Yes, what a stupid father Takami would be if he didn’t tell his own son what his real career was. Honestly, did the man even think twice before opening his mouth to speak?

“He’s better off in their hands,” Takami rationalized.”You saw what things were like when it was just us two, didn’t you?”

Yes, and then you pushed me away from your son, Sako bitterly thought. The man had no one to blame but himself for his irrational behavior. “I suppose you’re right.”

“He’ll get a real bed now,” Takami added. “And three meals a day. I bet he’s already forgotten all ‘bout me.”

They both knew that wasn’t true. Despite Takami’s misgivings, Keigo never stopped looking up to his father. Even Sako could tell how much the boy seemed to idolize Takami no matter how much Takami seemed to neglect his own son.

“Perhaps,” Sako muttered disdainfully.

--

Sako felt like an old man when he watched Keigo--no, Hawks-- all grown up and flashing these award-winning smiles at fans who recognized him.

It felt weird to call him Hawks.

No man lives by their stage name alone--that is a dangerous ideal that most performers steer clear of. Yet, it seemed that nobody else knew the man’s real name. How peculiar, indeed. Sako wondered if that was their doing.

Irrationally, he turned to a random civilian from the crowd. How daunting he must appear, being a supposed “leader” of this new huge organization to have approached a new recruit spontaneously.

“Would you like to see a trick?” Sako asked with as much charm as he could muster up. When they agreed, Sako pulled off a magnificent card trick that seemed to stun them into silence.

Someone else, who had been observing him perform the trick (oh dear, where did this crowd come from?) asked him, “How did you... do that?”

Sako didn’t even need to answer the question himself. Oh, how that once-young boy knew him and his antics too well. Even with his face covered, the name would of course undoubtedly have been a dead giveaway (if he was more careful in the past, he would have given out a fake one).

Right on cue, Hawks was there, saying, “Don’t you know how this works? A magician never reveals his secrets!”

He taught him well. Perhaps, a little too well.

[wxyvision]

Dear First Love {3/4}

Genre: angst, fluff

Word count: 2,106

Part 1 | Part 2

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dear first love,

So you heard, from either Guanheng or Mark, I assume, that I wanted you to teach me how to dance. I mean, I was sort of serious, I thought it could be a good way to get closer to you whilst doing something fun. I wasn’t actually expecting them to tell you, though. I should thank you for actually offering to teach me, and for not laughing at my bad dancing. I was surprised that you bought food and drinks for me, I really wasn’t expecting you to do that. The food was tasty, thank you. You keep making me fall for you more and more with your sweet actions. It’s not fair, how do I make your heart melt? How do I make you fall for me the way I have done for you? I keep hoping maybe I’ll get really good at dancing and your heart will flutter. I can hope, huh? You were really patient with me, I appreciated that. I think I would have gotten frustrated after a while! Also, did you notice that my Mandarin improved a lot? I’ve been studying hard recently! Guanheng still doesn’t know that I’m learning for you, I think he thinks I’m learning because a lot of the boys speak the language and not because I have feelings for you. We talked a lot whilst you taught me, it was fun. Did you enjoy it too? I hope maybe we can do it again in the future, even though I’m nowhere near as talented as you are. Even if I mess up all of the steps, I would be a fun time as long as I get to spend it with you! I wish I had something to share with you in return as a thank you, but you’re already into acting, so it’s nothing new to you. What can I do?

Your little dumpling

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dear first love,

Guess how long it’s been since we met! It’s been a whole two years!! Right now it’s nearing the summer holidays and I’m really looking forward to it. Especially since we made plans to hang out over the summer, both alone and with the boys. Just as long as we don’t go camping, I don’t want anyone to break a bone or anything. Perhaps we could visit the zoo! Or maybe the beach? Again, I would love to go to the theme park all together, but I can imagine that it would be chaos! Can you imagine a group of teens running around like kids in a sweetshop? Yeah... maybe that would be one for just us two, or us and a couple others. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Oh, but I forgot you’re afraid of heights, aren’t you, my little chicken wing? Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a good idea after all.. I’m sure we’ll find something that everyone wants to do! Do you have any other plans for the summer holidays? I know you said something about trying to visit home for a week or two, I hope you get to spend some quality time with your family, you must miss them a lot. My summer holidays will be spent either hanging out with you and the boys or doing random little doodles when I get bored of eating ice cream in the park. Ha, just kidding, I’ll never get tired of eating ice cream. Especially if the other person is paying ;). I should do a doodle of you, but I would have to do a doodle of everyone so it doesn’t seem like I’m only drawing you. After all, I don’t want to make my feelings obvious, especially because I don’t know how you feel… Damn, why can’t I just tell you? It seems so silly to be so scared. You wouldn’t run away, right?

Your little dumpling

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Dear first love,

Summer flew by fast! I think it's because I had a lot of fun. We should be able to meet up once before school starts again, right? We got the chance to hang out a lot over the summer, which was amazing. We all went to the beach a couple of times... that was complete chaos, but it was funny when we all tried to throw Mark in the water. He still uses that against me. You wouldn't believe how many ice creams he's gotten out of me. At least YangYang managed to get us free ice cream out of the oldie hehe. Did you enjoy the little water fight? We were on the same team, weren't we? I always knew you were secretly competitive! You were a good shot, better than me at least. I wish we could do that again some time. There's always next summer, isn't there? I hope we'll all stay in contact when we leave. It's our last year here now, and then we will have graduated. It's kind of sad to think that I may never see you and the other boys after then, but I hope we at least talk sometimes, even if it's not as much as we do now. I'm just gonna enjoy this year as much as I can and make even more amazing memories with you! We made plans to hang out often, assuming school doesn't get in the way too much. I won't be doing any performing this year, I have enough on my plate with exams and that, but I volunteered to be a stagehand, so I'll still be pretty busy. Not too busy that I can't see you, I hope. Maybe we can all go bowling again like we did over the summer. It was a little difficult since we couldn't all play against one another, but it was fun to have a friendly competition. And how could I forget? You and me going to the zoo together, just the two of us. It turns out you were just as excited to see all of the animals as I was. Although I wasn't just happy because of seeing the animals, but because I got to spend time with you, too. We took many photos, didn't we? I hope we can both look back at that day with fondness. I know I will. If only it could have been a date, but I will settle for a hangout for now. Perhaps one day?

Your little dumpling

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Dear first love,

It was your birthday on Wednesday! You're another year older and wiser (and sweeter) now. I know this year it was a bit less organised than before, but everyone has been busy with school work recently so we had less time to make proper plans. It's regretful, especially since this is the last year celebrating your birthday like this. Still, it was nice to have a more relaxing celebration, don't you think? Well, apart from Lucas starting a high note battle and nearly getting us kicked out. But it's those kind of memories that we'll keep in our hearts. The two of you had two cakes (lucky!). Unfortunately one of them was allowed to be decorated by Donghyuk and Guanheng… sorry about that. They really made a mess, didn't they? Still, they were proud of their "artwork". It was cute, though… kinda. You looked really happy the whole time, I don't think I ever saw that smile leave your face, not even for one second. I'm really glad that spending time with us made you so happy. We also celebrated Halloween together, didn't we? It was pretty cool seeing everyone dress up in fun costumes. You looked super handsome as always! It probably wasn't a good idea to watch spooky movies though. All I kept hearing was someone screaming… and I could see a few of the boys hiding behind cushions. But then Johnny put on a Halloween playlist and we had a mini rave. I don't think I've ever seen anyone waving strawberry pencils like a lightstick before. It's these sort of things we learn not to question after a while, huh? It was good to spend more time with you, school has been pretty hectic recently. It seems that every class has a million and one assignments to complete and to blink would be wasting time. Still, that's no excuse not to party! ...Maybe that's why I'm so behind. I hope things are going well for you. I hope your classes aren't too crazy and that work isn't piled up high for you <3

Your little dumpling

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Dear first love,

Christmas has come and gone! How was it for you? I heard that you went home to see your family this year. I know how much you've been missing them from the conversations that we've had lately. I keep seeing photos of you and your family on your Instagram. You look absolutely adorable in that Christmas sweater! I can tell how happy you are to be home from how wide your smile is and from the twinkle in your eyes. I wish for you to be that happy always. I can't wait to hear all about your Christmas when school starts again. I wonder what sort of presents you got. I bet you got something really cool, right? Did you eat well? There was so much food for me, but I ate a lot! I mostly received money and small gifts but I treasure those gifts a lot because they were so thoughtful. Did you enjoy the presents you got from me and the boys? I know mine wasn't that much but it's the thought that counts, right? I know how much you like those. Are you flying back for New Year's Eve? Johnny is throwing a party to see in the new year. I hope that you'll be there but if not, then happy new year. I hope next year treats you even better. Time seems to fly by so fast, doesn't it? It feels like only a week ago that the year began, yet it's already ending! Are you planning on making a resolution? I never stick to mine. I always promise myself that I'll eat healthier, or procrastinate less, or sleep better but I never do. I wonder if it's the same for you.

Your little dumpling

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Dear first love,

I wasn't going to write another letter so soon but I have to get these feelings out of my head and onto this page. I'm glad you were there for the party. You looked handsome as ever, although was I really expecting you not to? You were wearing the cutest sweater I've ever seen. It looked so good on you, but then again what doesn't look good on you? That was… I'm sorry. I'm glad you enjoyed the party. It was nice to spend time with you again after not seeing you for a bit. I heard all about your Christmas with your family. It made me wish I had been there, it sounded so homely and sweet. Your family sound lovely. It's no wonder you're such a sweet person when your family is also that sweet. Still, I'm now wishing that I was busy that day. Or sick. Or for some reason I hadn't been there. As much as it kills me to say that, that's how I feel. Despite being so happy to see you and talk to you and spend lots of time with you, I wish that I hadn't been there. But we can't take back that now, can we? If you were reading this now I bet you'd be wondering why I felt like this, wouldn't you? It sounds so silly, and I shouldn't be so upset over it, but it still hurts. I had always wished that one day I'd have a new years kiss. Maybe I should have been more specific with that wish. I felt so bad. It'll be awkward to see Mark tomorrow. Actually, I don't know if I will. It depends how things go I guess, but I hope things will be okay between us, he's the best best friend I've ever had and I don't want to lose that. I feel bad that he was kissing me yet the only person I could see was you. I feel bad that I don't feel that way for him, and now our friendship is threatened by one stupid kiss. And I wish I felt that way for him because then it wouldn't hurt so much seeing you kissing someone else… I don't know if you have feelings for them or not, but either way the image still makes me heart feel heavy.

Little dumpling

[alj4890]

Pet Names~Fluffy Friday

(Thomas Hunt x Amanda *oc*) (Maxwell Beaumont x Nadia Park)

For @krsnlove , because you wanted a double date between these couples a while back. And guess what? It's in the city we can't escape from 😂

A/N Taken from my And Then I Met You storyline. Borrowing characters from Choices: The Royal Romance, Perfect Match, and Red Carpet Diaries.

@walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82   @bella-ca  

"When I mentioned spending a week in New York, I meant on our own." Thomas said when they walked into the suite. Amanda had already dropped her bag and was at the window, looking out over Central Park covered in snow.

"Then you have learned your lesson. Never mention a trip in front of the Beaumont's." She smiled as he grumbled while taking the bags to the bedroom. "You should look on the bright side."

"Is there one?" He asked returning to the living room.

"They plan on spending the majority of their time with Damien and Nadia's cousin. Which means alone time for us. Lots of alone time." She closed her eyes when he came up behind her, wrapping her in an embrace.

"That is exactly what I wanted to hear." He said in between kisses along her neck. His hands pulled her closer against him causing her to recall the bad news.

"They want us to meet them." She felt him pause in his caress.

"When? Where?"

"Rockefeller Center." She walked quickly to the bedroom as she muttered. "Now."

"Now! We only arrived a few minutes ago." Thomas stalked after her. Amanda had two of their suitcases on the bed, the very piece of furniture that he had planned to use differently mere seconds ago. He watched her pull out a change of clothes for herself, involving too many layers for his plan. She then picked through his clothes until she found his scarf, a thick sweater, and gloves.

He frowned at the items handed to him. "We don't need all of this if we are meeting them and going to dinner." He realized she had yet to say what they were doing. "Amanda." He nearly growled. "What did you agree to do tonight?"

She poked her head out of the bathroom and tried to smile. "Did I ever tell you how handsome you are in that dark green sweater? With the burgundy scarf, you..." He crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow as her voice trailed off.

She stepped out wearing bright blue sweater with her leggings and sat down on the bed to put some boots on. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and it hit him what they were doing.

"No. This is not how I am spending my first night after being apart from my wife for nearly a month." He walked out of the room and sat down on the sofa. He heard her sigh as she followed him out. "It's only for a little while." She sat on the arm of the sofa and tipped his face up for a kiss. He pulled her into his lap and deepened the kiss. She drew back a couple of inches and tried again. "If you go and try to have fun, then I promise to keep you warm." Her smile was flirty and, as hard as he tried, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fine." He sighed and in a blink, he had her on the sofa with his body covering hers. "This is how I expect you to keep me warm." His deep voice followed by his weak in the knees kiss caused a shiver to run down her back. He reluctantly pushed up and put the sweater on with his coat. He helped her with her jacket and took her hand as they left.

"Do you not like ice skating?" She asked.

"It's fine." He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't been skating in years. We shall see how well muscle memory works."

She couldn't help but notice that he seemed even less excited than usual going on a double date. "Thomas, I know you. You usually aren't thrilled when we are asked to go on double dates, but not to this extent. What's wrong?"

They stepped outside the hotel and began to walk toward their destination. He wrapped his arm around her and finally explained. "Each time we are out with Maxwell and Nadia, they become quite, how do I say this?" He didn't want to be insulting, but really it was--

"Nauseating?" She offered.

His dark brown eyes shot down to her in surprise. She really was perfect for him. She smiled and pulled him closer when he snuck a tender kiss.

"It's those pet names they give each other." He shook his head in disgust. "The later it becomes, the more names emerge from their mouths."

Amanda laughed. "Believe me, I know. I've heard it pretty much since day one." They walked another block in companionable silence. As her mind wandered, an idea came over her. "Thomas!"

"Hmm?"

"What if we showed them what it's like?" Her mischevious smile caused his own to flirt about his lips.

"Let's."

______________________

"How's that feel, little blossom?" Maxwell finished tying the laces of her skates and watched her shake her feet.

"Perfect as always, my precious cinnamon roll." She kissed him and looked about for Amanda and Thomas. "Oh there they are!" She waved her arms to get their attention.

"Do you think we can actually say these names without either laughing or physically gagging?" Amanda whispered as she waved to the couple.

"It will be worth each embarassing second if it cures them of saying these around people. We are aiding society in never having to hear Maxwell referred to as her "wittle bitty hippo with abs that don't stop" and she as his "dreamy sugar cookie covered in hot loving sprinkles".

Amanda cringed hearing those particular names. "I forget about those."

"If only I could." Thomas muttered

They rented their skates and sat by Nadia and Maxwell. Thomas knelt in front of Amanda and gave her a wink as he pulled her boot off. She smiled at him. "You are so sweet to help me, snicker doodle."

Nadia blinked and looked up at Maxwell. He seemed just as surprised.

"Anything for my sweet little slice of baby cakes." He managed to keep a small smile on his face as he uttered those ridiculous words. He noticed that the names were already causing a reaction. Maxwell appeared to be slightly ill listening to them.

Soon, they were ready to hit the ice. The four started out together, each doing rather well at remaining upright.

"Looks like your muscles remembered, Mr. Cutie Patootie." Amanda was somehow able to have a syrupy sweet look of adoration on her face as she gazed at Thomas.

He smiled down at her. "It probably helped receiving a kiss from you, sugar lips."

Maxwell coughed in embarrassment. "Er, uh Nadia and I are going to try racing. Right babe?"

She nodded so hard her knit hat nearly flew off. They hurried off toward another area of the rink. Thomas let the laugh out he had been struggling with. "Cutie patootie?"

Amanda was nearly crying with her own laughter. "Don't even go there Mr. Hunt. When you referred to me as a slice of baby cakes, I nearly threw in the towel."

He led her over to the railing and smoothed some strands of hair back that had escaped her ponytail. The back of his fingers caressed her cheek when he realized something. "We never use pet names of any sort."

She thought about it and shrugged. "I suppose we don't." Her hazel eyes looked up into his. "Why? Does my bunny boo need a name?"

He snorted. "No. Please stop." He cupped her face and struggled to kiss her while chuckling as she mumbled. "How about honeybuns?"

When they both calmed down, he took her hand again and pulled her along. "It doesn't bother you?"

She shook her head. "I have daily evidence that you love me without the use of an embarrassing endearment. Does it bother you?"

"No. I feel the same." His brow furrowed. "I'm not even sure what I would call you. I certainly would not pick a silly name."

"I'm rather fond of how you say my name. The tone and way you enunciate it changes with the paticular emotion you are feeling." She noticed his soft smile form with her words.

He squeezed her hand. "I love hearing my name from your lips. Something about it ruffles my senses, especially in your breathless whisper."

Her cheeks turned a brighter red with his words. He nudged her and redirected her attention on the couple they were in the midst of torturing.

Amanda took her phone out. "I found some others we can use when they return." They both looked at the list and divided them up between them.

"What do you think is up with them?" Nadia asked as they observed Thomas and Amanda's odd behavior.

"Maybe they haven't had a lot of alone time lately. With Thomas doing reshoots in Hawaii and Amanda globetrotting with meetings and checks on her estates, I think time got away from them. I know how much they miss each other when their schedules conflict with one another." Maxwell shuddered as he thought of hearing more of their weird pet names for each other. He loved seeing them so happy together. But seriously...they need to get a room if they were going to continue saying those names.

"I guess we should be grateful they don't act this way every time they are with us." Nadia wrapped her arms around Maxwell, smiling up at him when he tightened his grip around her. She kissed him sweetly. "Let's get this double date over with as fast as we can, snuggle bug ."

Maxwell grinned. "As you wish, angel pie."

"Here they come." Thomas whispered. "Ready to lay it on thick?"

Amanda winked at him. "Always, Dr. Sweet Cheeks."

He sputtered and shook his head as she patted his back. His eyes teared up as he suppressed his laugh. He should have known she would take this task and run with it.

"Here is what I was thinking we could do before calling it a night." Nadia was nearly bouncing on the ice. "How about a carriage ride in Central Park and then going to Serendipty 3 for something to eat?"

"Can we eat first, blossom? I am dying for something sweet." Maxwell pleaded. His lips pouted, causing Nadia to wrap him in her arms. "Of course, pudding pop!" They turned to the other couple to see what they thought.

"Works for us." Thomas replied. "Doesn't it, gorgeous" He went blank for a moment trying to remember one of the ridiculous names. "Vixen?"

Amanda nodded. "I'm starving. Let's get these skates off." They all sat on a bench and began unlacing. Thomas offered to help Amanda. "I've got it," She smirked and quickly kissed him. "Thank you, Lord Kissing-ton."

Maxwell and Nadia groaned simultaneously. Their eyes widened and they covered their mouths as they stared at one another.

"Something wrong?" Amanda asked innocently.

"Yeah, um my stomach is really not feeling too good." Maxwell clutched it and hoped Nadia would play along. She hopped up and immediately took action. "Oh no! Again? Let's get you back to Kai's apartment so you can lay down. I'm sorry we have to cut our date short."

"No problem. Take care and hope you feel better soon." Thomas waved them off and Amanda promised to call and check on him tomorrow. As they watched Nadia and Maxwell sprint away from them, they collapsed back on the bench.

"I can't believe we pulled that off." Amanda said as she looked at the website one more time. "And I never got to use Sexy Dumpling of Love. Wasted opportunity."

Thomas took her phone away from her and zipped it in his coat pocket. With his arm wrapped snuggly around her, he took her on a carriage ride for a little moonlight on the snow romance. They went on to Serendipity and pretended not to see Nadia and Maxwell ducking behind menus in the back of the restaurant.

After filling up on spicy wings and nachos, they shared the famous frozen hot chocolate while simply enjoying being together. Their fingers found each other's and tangled as they talked about what they had been doing while apart. When the waitress came by to see if they needed anything else, they paid and left quickly so that their friends could finish eating while sitting upright.

"Oh thank goodness they didn't see us! I don't want them to think we no longer like hanging out." Nadia whispered. "I think we need to think twice about going on dates with them again."

"Agreed. We need to really think about it if they have been apart for a few weeks. I'm grateful they didn't see us." Maxwell shuddered as he motioned to the waitress for the check. "I don't think I could take another round of their pet names. What if they had become more graphic?" The waitress walked up and smiled.

"It was taken care of already." She explained.

"Taken care of? By who?"

She handed him the receipt. There was a message written on the back.

Thanks for spending our first night in NYC with us. Hope you have a wonderful trip. Tell Damien and Kai we said hello.

Much love to you both,

Captain Spanky and Sex Kitten

XOXO

[lentaska]

Height Difference - Part 3

Have been busy with job and class, another crazy week passed soon :)

Note: Featuring Madman Fulton. First person POV, OFC from non-wrestling background. New oc is out and he is a good-looking asshole :) This is a work of fan fiction using characters from wrestling, I do not claim any ownership over them.

oc: Birdie (some doodles)

Tagging: @thecristsandcallihanmadness @monstersmaid @morie-leigh

Part Three “what if he loses you”

Trying new things would help people to know more about themselves, for example, this morning - the first morning of our “cohabiting experiment” - I just learned that I actually hit Fulton in sleep.

“And it’s not only the hit, you also kicked me. I woke up once around 5 am.” Fulton added more information. “The good thing is, you behaved after tucking yourself into my arms.”

Now I had the answer for why I woke up in Fulton’s arms and he looked like just had a battle.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that before. Did I hurt you?” I asked, rubbing his hand.

He chuckled, “with your strength? Of course. You will definitely defeat me in the ring.”

An odd idea popped up - it’s probably because I had watched one wrestling match and was motivated - I might be able to fight him for real.

This was also a naive idea, Fulton tried hard not to laugh at it and discourage me, although I still could see the grin he hid. He announced in joking tone, “if you lift me up for even half inch, you win.”

“I’m taking it seriously.”

“I know.” He opened his arms to me, grinning, “c’mon Birdie.”

The rule was simple. I took a deep breath, grabbed his waist and lifted him up - or tried to lift him up because he was not moving AT ALL, so I did another attempt but still failed. Wondering how this was possible, I heard Fulton’s voice, “wanna take a break?” based on the cheerfulness in the tone, he was holding back laughter.

“It’s warm-up.” I explained indignantly, making myself sound tough.

“Alright, alright.” Fulton snickered, “take your time.”

In a match or challenge related to strength, longer it took, less chance to win because the strength would come to exhaustion eventually, hence my third attempt was much worse and I couldn’t help gasping. I knew Fulton was built and strong, but I didn’t expect him to be this... heavy. This man was a brick wall, if I ever accidentally knocked against him, I would be dizzy for a while.

“Are you ok?” asked Fulton.

Managed to catch breath, I found myself the worst excuse, “I’m... hungry. You know, I have no strength when I’m hungry.”

Fulton nodded, pretending to believe my words.

I gave up, “I can’t do this. I was being silly to think that I can fight you.”

“Let me see...” he check the clock, “Five minutes, good job.”

“Take that smirk back.” I elbowed him gently.

Fulton grimaced and acted like he got hurt from my “attack”.

Rolled my eyes at him, I asked, “are you still taking me to your match tonight?”

“Of course, but this time you don’t need to make script about what to say to my friends.”

I guess he would not let go of any silly thing I did. He thought those things were “cute”. Like the time I freaked out on his Jason costume on Halloween and screamed “don’t kill me”, he still brought it up. It didn’t annoy me though, probably because of the affectionate way he used.

 When I arrived locker room with Fulton, the ambience was uneasy, the Crist brothers and Sami looked anxious, I had never seen them behave in such way, something serious happened.

I looked up at Fulton, who responded with the same confused expression. Noticed our appearance, Jake waved at us first, then Dave and Sami came to us.

“Do you know that your opponent is replaced?” asked Sami.

Clearly Fulton was not informed in advance, “whom I’ll be facing then?”

“The new guy just joined 3 weeks ago, we don’t know much about him.” Dave shrugged, “I don’t remember his name.”

Jake let out a sigh, “How can you forget one simple name... his name is Vasiliy. ”

The name brought Fulton on the alert. Subconsciously, I grasped Fulton’s hand more tightly. I did this when I was on nerve and I found myself doing this more often since dating Fulton, mainly because I had panic every time he had match. “Is he difficult to deal with?” I asked, praying that Vasiliy guy was just a regular wrestler.

Sami snapped in detestation, “he is plague.”

If the Death Machine himself commented a person so negatively, then this person was a real trouble.

“Sami is right.” Jake frowned and turned to me, “although it’s highly unlikely, if you ever run into that guy, leave immediately.”

Another Crist nodded, “something is wrong with him.”

I froze at their words. There was one moment that I wanted to ask Fulton not to go, but I couldn’t, it’s his match and I needed be supportive. I took a deep breath, said - more like to comfort myself, “Fulton will win easily, I have faith in him.”

 I was very wrong.

When Vasiliy showed up, I had goosebumps. He wore a plain mask with antlers, both hands were covered by bandage, and he was holding barbed wires. The audience had two contrasting reactions on his entrance, some cheered him while the others hooted in disapproval, but one thing was for sure, the world was almost when he took off the mask. It’s not exaggerated to say, Vasiliy had the most angelic face I had ever seen.

However, his moves were far from “angelic”. He hit Fulton right on belly several time with barbed wires twined around his hand, and then his face. I almost screamed in shock. Since I was close to the ring, the excitement on Vasiliy’s face was clear enough to make me sick.

“We shouldn’t let the fun end too soon, shall we?” the man chuckled, dumping one of the boxes which were set in the ring for their match. It’s a box of Lego blocks.

Fulton struggled to get up, but one foot stomped on his back maliciously. Grabbed a full hand of blocks, Vasiliy gave a harmless smile, then he forced Fulton to open his mouth, stuffed the blocks in and smashed his face to the ground.

My stomach twitched in agony. I knew wrestling match could be violent and wrestlers were trained to limit the hurt to opponents, but I could tell that Vasiliy’s doing was on purpose. He wanted hurt his opponent in the most painful way.

Although Fulton gained the upper hand later on and won the match, the prince was high, he almost collapsed due to multiple wounds and exhaustion. It hurt me to see him in such terrible shape, so I left auditorium and found my way to the backstage, all I wanted was to return to the locker room and hug my dreadlock bear.

But I ran into someone I shouldn’t. The black-haired man whom Sami referred as “plague” blocked my way, smiling innocently. The aura of him was like poisonous mist, whirling and tangling

“Vasiliy...”

I took one step back. The Crist brothers cautioned me against getting involved with him, plus what he did in the ring, he was the last person I wanna see now.

“My honor to be remembered by you.”

“It’s a... nice match” I said, against my will.

“I can imagine how much you loved to witness Fulton’s victory.” he giggled. “But I did have fun in making him bleed.”

The memory of him stuffing Lego blocks in Fulton’s mouth and smashing his face disgusted me. I wasn’t sure how this match went into such way, but that scene made my stomach twitched in agony. And now he said making Fulton bleed was “fun” with no regret? Was the personality and behavior he showed in the ring actually a reflection of himself in life?

I forced myself to be polite, “it’s late, I have to go...”

“To find your boyfriend?” he tipped his head a little, in the most harmless way I could imagine, but somehow I was alarmed. “Although joining this brand happened only weeks ago, I consider myself to be informed. I know Fulton loves you dearly. I’m quite curious: what if he loses you?”

I saw the excitement on his face, his smile twisted. He was serious.

Vasiliy’s eyes locked on me, “when I was seven, mother bought me a parakeet. She was beautiful and docile, I cherished her with my heart, but a stray cat killed it. Beautiful things never last long, do they?”

In the next moment, his hands were on my neck, I heard his sweet but malicious voice, “how adorable you are, I wonder what your scream sounds like.”

The strength pressed on was squeezing air out of me, I struggled, the suffering from suffocation and instinct for survival made me fight back for the slenderest hope, even though what I could do was nothing comparing his power.

“Scream, lil’ bird,” Vasiliy sneered, “or you prefer to suffer?”

Tears welled up from fear, it might be easier if I just screamed - he might let me go - but I could not let him win.

I attempted to get out of him by kicking and smacking, although I got him couple times, those attacks didn’t help me but instead stimulated his desire for destruction.

When I was about to give up, I heard Fulton’s furious roar, “you fucking leave her alone!”

The pressure on my neck was released, I was pulled into a firm embrace. Fulton had one arm locked me tightly, another arm was in defence posture. Based on how messed up Vasiliy looked, he already got punch on face from the mad dreadlock bear.

Stroking where Fulton hit, Vasiliy chuckled, “you’re almost late to save her. I was about to make her scream but she’s a tough one.”

Fulton gnashed, almost rushed out to give him another good punch, “you touch her again and I will break your fucking face, you hear me?!”

“‘Stupidity is also a gift of God, but one mustn’t misuse it’, you never know how naive you are, but it’s fine. We will meet again and have better game to play.” the angelic-looking man waved goodbye at me.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” Fulton checked on me, “what else did he do?”

“Nothing besides strangling me.”

Unbuttoned my collar, Fulton’s face clouded over with anger. I was nervous, “what’s wrong?”

“You should see it by yourself.”

In the phone camera, I saw faint hand print on my neck.

“I’m gonna kill that scum...”

“He was serious about hurting me, but why? I didn’t even know him.”

“Vasiliy was new in the brand but he had feud with Sami in another brand, and it’s not only in rings. We act like crazy and bad dudes in the ring, but he is different. His personality in real life is what he shows in the ring.” Fulton wiped away my tears and patted my back, I saw how scared he was. He thought he would lose me.

“So he attacked me because I hang out with oVe?”

He nodded, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. And don’t think I’m gonna keep distance from you guys, because I like your friends and I will learn to protect myself. If Vasiliy ever does stupid thing again, I’ll kick him between legs hard.”

Chuckled, the dreadlock bear stroked my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Yet I didn’t realize Vasiliy would become the most horrifying nightmare.

[forestwater87]

Gwenvid week day 1

Day 1: 10 Years Earlier / Camper AU

“Gwen! Where are you going?” David jogged to catch up with her, nearly tripping over his own feet, and snagged her elbow. “We’re supposed to be at the bonfire!”

She pulled her arm from his grip but let herself be tugged to a stop. “Who cares about a stupid bonfire right now, Davey? Jasper’s gone missing!”

David rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s not missing, silly. He just went home!” A shadow crossed his face and he dropped his gaze to the dirt, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “For some reason.”

Gwen scoffed, turning her back to him and continuing toward the dock, where a couple boats were still tied up in preparation for tomorrow’s Kayaking Camp. “Yeah, some reason. And the reason is on that island.”

“No it isn’t!” he whined, glancing nervously over his shoulder as he followed her to the boats. “Gwennnn --”

“Hey.” She turned to face him, prodding his bony chest with one finger. “You guys went off without me.”

“Mr. Campbell needed us! And you were . . . under the wea --”

“You guys went off without me,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes, “and now Jasper’s gone. Maybe for the whole rest of the summer.” She twisted away from David quickly, swiping at her eyes before kneeling beside one of the ties holding the boat to the dock. “And I wanna know what happened.”

David made a quiet, frustrated noise, and Gwen didn’t even have to look up to know he was yanking at his hair. “Mr. Campbell said he was just --”

“You’d have to be a real doofus to believe anything Mr. Campbell says.”

He gasped, his eyes going huge. “You can’t say that!” he whined, and she wasn’t sure he meant the bad word or doubting the great Cameron Campbell.

Either way, Gwen didn’t have the patience for it. “I’ll say it again if you don’t stop bugging me, Davey!” Jasper had been the only person who understood how annoying camp could be, once Davey went all goody-two-shoes, and the rest of the summer just wouldn’t feel right without him.

She loved Davey, of course, but . . . they were a team. And she couldn’t leave a member of the team behind.

Finally having figured out the knots holding the boat, she sat down on the edge of the dock, swinging her legs over and preparing to lower herself into the kayak.

“Wait wait wait wait!” David caught her underneath the arms as she started to drop, dragging her backwards with way more strength than she thought he possessed. Stupid Weights Camp, and stupid Davey for actually participating in all the dumb camps now. “Please, Gwen, don’t go!”

She kicked fruitlessly, heels scraping the dock. “Listen --”

“No, you listen!” He dropped her onto her butt on the dirt, falling to his knees hard enough to make him wince and taking her hands. “Jasper and I had a fight, and then he went away. And now we’re having a fight, and I don’t want you to go away too!”

“My parents wouldn’t pick me up anyway, even if I wanted to leave,” she muttered, shifting to stand back up. But David clung to her, scrabbling forward on his knees as he tried to keep his grip.

“That doesn’t matter!” His breathing was coming faster, harsh and cracking with panic. “Just please please please don’t go, Gwen. It’s not a good idea!”

“You could come with me,” she offered, still trying fruitlessly to tug her wrists free, but he shook his head, eyes wide and horrified.

“No, no no nonono! It’s not safe there.”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be safe? It’s just a regular island.”

He fell silent, lip trembling. He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes; his gaze darted from her chin to her forehead to the puff of her bangs without settling on any one place.

Gwen sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the kayak, which had started to float away. She could still grab the rope that tied it to the dock, though, and drag it back close enough for her to climb in.

Jasper was missing. And she didn’t care what cock-a-doodle excuse Mr. Campbell made up, something bad had happened. He wouldn’t just leave without telling them, no matter how much he hated the camp.

“You know this doesn’t add up,” she murmured, looking down at his shaking fingers wrapped white-knuckled around hers, “don’t you?”

“N-oo,” he said with a whimper, swallowing hard. “I just . . . don’t want you to leave too, Gwen. Please, don’t leave me.”

He finally looked up at her. His eyes were damp and sparkling.

It was infuriating. Gwen knew there was a mystery here, and she’d read enough Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop books that summer to know the answer was waiting for her in the middle of the lake.

David’s grip tightened. “It’s just like Mr. Campbell said,” he breathed, not looking away from her face like he was trying to read reassurance from her features. “Jasper was tired of camp, so he went home.”

They were a team.

“I ... think you’re right,” she finally said, wiggling her fingers until he let go of them and then standing up. “Come on, let’s go to the bonfire.”

For a moment he just stared at her outstretched arm, cheeks ashen and eyes huge. His brows furrowed, like he was trying to process what she’d just said. Then he took her hand and let her pull him to his feet, keeping his fingers laced with hers. “Yeah,” he said, a little dazed. Like he was waking up from a bad dream. “Just be- . . . because Jasper doesn’t want to be at camp anymore doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun, right Gwen?”

She resisted the urge to look behind her as they walked away from the lake. Back at the unmoored boat, and the black shadow of an island that loomed beyond it. “Right,” she agreed, a knot in her chest loosening at the happy little sigh of relief that David made, at the way his shoulders relaxed.

Maybe she’d slip away one night and sneak over to Regular Island. Find the answer to her questions once and for all.

Probably not, though. Not with the memory of David’s pale, stricken face still lingering in the back of her mind, not with “please don’t leave me” a faint echo in her ears.

He was her team.

Mystery or not, he was hers.

[simvlacrvms]

Niji headcanons from the other blog part 1

Niji has 3 earrings in his right ear, 2 earrings in his left and one eyebrow piercing in his left eyebrow

Tbh while Niji is absolutely competitive with games, the moment he realizes he’s losing and seriously can’t win he just gives up and walks away grumbling. All that energy for not giving up is for saving people.

I’m serious about him being honest. The only ways he lies is by literally just not mentioning something or walking away. But usually he actually says what’s on his mind and what his opinion is, etc.

Okay but. Niji’s big difficulty with chess is the fact that he can’t do things the way he wants to. He can’t think outside the box and go wild with ideas. He is actually an excellent strategist and great at coming up with ideas on how to handle situations. Chess just has all those pieces who each do different things and WHY THE FUCK IS THE BOARD SO INCREDIBLY SMALL AND–

one of Niji’s less well-known hobbies is wearing cursed pieces of clothing that make no sense or are extremely chaotic just to see Yoichi’s reaction

I’m adding that Niji is a model on the side. He doesn’t do stuff for it often, highly prefers working in his café and travelling. But when he does agree to certain jobs, he delivers. This boy is really good at poses and looks good in everything he wears and has no problem with being shirtless. 

Niji’s hands are definitely not clean. Living in a time like that and doing vigilante stuff can make you go places. That’s all. Will I elaborate someday? Haha maybe.

Niji is actually very skilled at taking care of most wounds! This is because of his parents who are doctors and taught him and Hifumi quite a bit. Both parents largely thought it would be a good skill for them to have, regardless of where they’d end up in life. Sooo he has a box with stuff needed for taking care of injuries behind the counter of his café. And when he goes outside, he always carries a small bag with those tools. You bet his vigilante costume in his previous life had a few pockets with them too.

Tbh out of all of the other ofa holders (excluding Hifumi and Tenshi), the one easiest for Niji to start warming up to and get along with was Daigoro without a doubt. Due to a pretty similar amount of energy.

so um. Niji definitely had a goth phase from 17 until 22… almost 23. And it was generally more the aesthetic rather than the music– though he did listen to it. He didn’t wear makeup. That never was his thing. But he did have his ears pierced and wore really simple rings in his ears. 2 in his left ear. 3 in his right ear.

Yes, hi. Niji’s sneezes are… Loud. Do with this information whatever you want.

Times back in that previous life were rough and Niji has been scary close to death more than once. During most experiences his incredibly sharp teeth came in handy, as he was able to bite people’s shoulders deep enough to get people to back away from him far enough for him to calm down and knock them out. He still hates the taste of blood in his mouth and avoids drinks that remind him of all that because of it. Halloween is not a good time when there’s drinks looking like fake blood around.

Booooy was Niji’s sleep schedule shit back then! As full-time vigilante, he tended to be away from home for usually a week. Very RARELY longer than that. During those days away, the only bits of sleep he ever got were 1 hour naps. Of course he caught up when he was back home. Took care of his wounds and just passed out for several hours.

When it comes to sweet foods, his favorite is s’mores. He will always take any excuse to eat those. Though, when it comes to flavored candy, he’ll always prefer lemon over chocolate.

Another food headcanon. Niji’s favorite fruit is mango. Meanwhile his least favorite are literally anything with a ton of seeds. For melon he’s willing to deal with it. But anything else? It’s not worth it in his eyes. Just pain and annoying. 

Niji will wear literally any kind of clothing you give him. Doesn’t matter what it looks like. Bright colored… Dark colored… Fancy… Silly patterns… Onesie… It takes a lot to embarrass this guy.

He absolutely was that kid in class who doodled on literally every piece of paper he received. And, of course, everything was extremely silly. Niji still has some of them.

For years, in his previous life, Niji’s handwriting was SHIT. Readable and good enough for his teachers but still shit. He got better at it when he started writing letters to Tenshi. Wanted his boyfriend to have something nice to look at. It took a lot of practise and several letters but… He got there eventually. Now, his handwriting is still gorgeous in this life.

The man’s favorite music is symphonic / gothic metal. But he also enjoys rock and, surprising most people, opera. Meanwhile classical music makes him pass out within a minute. His prefered way to listen to music is earphones. Headphones are, according to him, a pain in the ass to carry around. If he does decide to buy headphones someday, it will be for aesthetic reasons.

Niji does not enjoy putting stuff in his hair. Refuses to wear hats, hairpins, etc. Just. Hell no. Of course he will wear them if someone else wants him to. But he’ll be annoyed. Sunglasses are an exception because you can’t put them anywhere else if you don’t want them on your face and don’t have a bag or actual proper pockets. Yes, he can put them in the pockets of his pants. But he considers that annoying too. What he does enjoy, however, is someone playing with his hair. It’s incredibly soothing.

In this life, he travels a lot. Likes going somewhere for like a week and take as many photos as he can. He also has this little habit in which he checks out shops and buys the weirdest thing he has found at the end of the week as a fun memory.

Talking about photos. Ones he takes of himself are rarely serious. 90% of the time he either does something silly or just makes a silly face. He believes that those kinds of photos are just way more fun. Serious, more proper ones, are generally more boring in his eyes.

Unlike most people, Niji actually doesn’t mind glitter. Exactly because it pisses people off. If he hates you, watch out because he will use it in pranks specifically for you.

Niji is extremely ticklish around his waist and under his knees. He doesn’t want to admit it so he usually responds to being tickled by holding his breath and keeping a straight face. But if you catch him off guard, you’ll have him laughing on the floor within seconds. 

He likes to decorate his café for the holidays and usually goes pretty wild with it. Even changes his own work clothes to fit the theme and plays fitting music as well. When he gets really into it, he also comes up with themed foods and drinks. Just goes all out because?? Why the hell not????

You’ll know exactly when he’s 100000% relaxing. It’s when he’s humming. The biggest sign that he’s comfortable and genuinely enjoying the moment.

[lunisnightwind]

KBA::. It Takes A Strong Team Part 2

Chapter preview: First day as team leader, Scarlet is stressing out. Will she stay calm or boil over? Petie and Rose © the_lost_one -----

It Takes A Strong Team Part 2 Our full figured Darmanitan was sitting in class, tapping her notebook with her pencil. The teacher was speaking but she wasn’t taking notes. She had something else on her mind. Preferably the fact that she was now in a team. Not only that, but she was assigned to be the team leader of this unorthodox team. And that’s not all! The teacher, who tricked them into making this team, had already scheduled a match within two weeks against Team Indigo. Such a small amount of time to adjust to all this. “Ms. Vatra, pay attention in my class!” shouted her raichu teacher. “S-sorry!” she stuttered as she wrote down on her notebook from the lessons. She sighed again as her thoughts drifted back to her team. She knew little about them and she has no idea how exactly to train them. Their first meeting wasn’t all that great. Infact, it was bad! She would need to know how they battle, so maybe they have a chance to beat their opponent. Thankfully, Mrs. Acquas had set up their schedule to use the arena until that day comes. So there won’t be those misunderstandings again. Her train of thought was interrupted when a spark jolted from her desk. “Do I need to repeat myself Ms Vatra?!” “N-No sir! Sorry Mr. Raikiri!” ***** Scarlet sighed as she stood in front of the entrance of the arena. School has ended and it's now time for the first training. Training with four girls she doesn’t even know. She took a deep breath and walked right in. The rest of the team was sitting in a circle, Emma being the only one in a chair. The darmanitan took a seat in front of them. “What up leader!” Riley greeted, Emma scowling after hearing that. “O-okay….” Scarlet muttered, “Well….how about we start with names? My name is Scarlet Vatra”. She motioned to Sadie on her left, going clockwise. “Mine’s Sadie Kakutasu” “Violet Lutka. Great to meet you!” “....Emma Marée” “Riley Escova! Happy to be here. Very happy!” Our smeargle was looking around her teammates….well...her teammates’ noticeable features. She grinned more, tail wagging behind her. “...ooookay...I think for starters, we should first know how we battle. That way I can put together some training regimen that best works for you” Emma rolled her eyes as Sadie spoke first. “Well, I don’t have a certain way besides countering anyone using items” she said, “What I do is use my Fling move to do do some damage with my Lava Cookies. It’s always silly to see their reaction. I then use Switcheroo, taking any items that have on them. Sometimes, they just give up, afraid I would use Fling on what I just took”. Sadie smiled happily as she thinks back to those who gave up when she held their Dragon Fangs or Hard Stone. “Mine isn’t really anything special” Violet said, “My species aren’t known for their speed. So, I always start with Trick Room so I can get the upper hand”. “I don’t really have a strategy” Riley said, “I just tend to kick butt with the moves I learn through Sketch. I DO use combo moves so there’s that” “Alright” Scarlet said, “What about you umm...Emma”. The empoleon scoffed as she looked to her. “If you must know, I fight while making sure I have Aqua Ring on me. I fight longer if I do so, thus I outlast my opponents” she lifted her head high, flicking her hair back, “Besides that, I fight with elegant grace. I have yet to be beaten in the tournaments I attend”. “Okay then….well. I think that the way we can train is-” “Just forget about it. We’re not gonna beat this Team Indigo with you in charge”. “And what’s that suppose to mean?” Scarlet and Emma glared at each other, the others worried that they are about to throw down. “Have you ever entered in a battle tournament? Have you ever trained to be a battler?” Emma asked her. “Well no…” “Have you ever thought about being a team leader?” “No. I…” “Do you think you can get this random team ready to face one who’s probably worked together for years?” “I don’t know okay?!” Scarlet shouted as she stood up, “But I was assign to be team leader so you...you better listen to what I say?!” “You shouldn’t even be the damn leader!” Emma shouted back, standing up as well. This time, Sadie and Violet quickly got up. Violet went behind Scarlet and held her shoulders as Sadie tried to keep Emma back. “Well maybe I didn’t plan it, but…” “But what!? You don’t know what the hell you are doing?!” “Girls please calm down!” Sadie said. Behind the darmanitan, Violet’s lips seemed to quiver, her gaze going to one certain spot of Scarlet. Sadie noticed this and a look of worry plastered on her face. “Violet, focus!” “I….am...trying” Violet muttered as she shut her eyes. She opened them abruptly and then….groped Scarlet’s huge breasts from behind. Scarlet squealed out, a heavy blush on her face. Sadie facepalmed as Emma looked in confusion. Riley, well she was doodling quickly inside her sketchbook as Violet rubbed those orbs. “THAT’S IT!” Scarlet shouted, breaking away from the Banette. “I’m going! I don’t give a damn anymore! You girls are on your own!” She stomped her way out, slamming the door behind her. Violet’s head hung low, her shoulders slumped. “Oooh...can’t believe I did that...again” she muttered. ***** “Who does that no good, thick headed, pompous, egotistical jerk think she is?!” Scarlet grumbled, practically stomping her way through the halls to get away. She huffed and growled, trying to stay calm. But just...why did it have to be her to be picked as the team leader? If that Empoleon thinks she can do better, why didn’t Mrs. Acquas pick her than? “Maybe...I’m just not fit to be leader”. Scarlet stomped around a corner before she suddenly stopped cold, having bumped into something there. A wall? No it can’t be. Whatever her face landed on was soft, REAL soft. She reached up, feeling up the very soft surface which she ran into. It was even more soft around her head. “....Are you going to pull out at any time?” the wall spoke, making Scarlet gasp out and stepped back. She took a good look of said wall before her. It was a large Scolipede woman, very large. Standing almost 8 feet tall, she easily towered over Scarlet, who had to crane her head back in order to even see her face pass those bosoms. “I’m so sorry!” “It wasn’t ill intent” the scolipede said, “No need to apologize. But you seem to be having some trouble”. Scarlet let out a loud irritating sigh and rubbed her head. “Gyah! I am having a difficult time with my damn team, if we can even call ourselves that!” she ranted, “...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this to a stranger. My name’s Scarlet. Scarlet Vatra” She extended her hand out, which the amazonian student shook. “I am Ainia Harmonia” she greeted, “I am guessing you are the team leader?” “Not by choice” she sighed, taking a seat on the hallway bench, placing her hands under her head. “I got stuck with these girls, one who has absolutely no respect for me whatsoever! And there’s another one who is...grabby. Another who always give her excuses! And another….well I don’t know what but I do know she keeps getting distracted by something!” “...I see…” Ainia said, taking a seat next her, which made the bench creak from her mass. Way she sat was on her side, half her centaur body on the bench while the other supported her on the floor. “...Sorry…” Scarlet said, “I...I don’t think you want to hear a problem from someone you just met”. “There’s no problem” she said, “Sounds very troubling” Scarlet sighed once again, rubbing her head in frustration. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to get this team going?!” she said, “Maybe...maybe I just can’t be a team leader”. “Well...have you been a leader long?” Ainia asked. “...No. I never been team leader of anything really. Not even at school projects” Scarlet got up to her feet, head hanging low. “Maybe...no...I am definitely not fit to be a team leader”. Ainia stood up, the bench creeking once again as she pats the Darmanitan’s back. “Are you really quitting so soon?” Ainia spoke, “Are you going to give it up so easily?” Scarlet looked to her, seeing the Scolipede give a comforting look. “Things like this are never easy. You have to work hard and keep at it, even if things don't go right for you the first time... or the second or third time”. Words were soaked into Scarlet’s psyche, words of wisdom from some random mon. “See this through to the end. Do not focus what you can do now, but what can do in the long run”. Oh Darmanitan crossed her arms, taking a deep breath as the words inked into her. “....You’re right” she said, “It’s only the first day and here I am, thinking I don’t fit into the leader role”. “Quiting after the first step is a pretty unwise”. Scarlet stood tall, smiling after taking a deep breath. “I can't just give up! I got to see this through!” She turned to Ainia and gave her a quick hug before pulling away. “Thank you for the advice. Where did you learn those kinds of lessons?” "Trying to find bras that fit after I evolved last year." Ainia said. ***** Scarlet once again stood in front of the arena door. She craned her neck twice before she opened the door. Inside, Sadie was talking to Emma, who had her arms crossed and averted her gaze to the Cacturne. “You need to behave yourself for at least until the first match!” she said to her, “Or am I going to have to talk to Mrs. Acquas about this?” Emma gulped loudly as her body shivered. “Okay okay no need to be so rash” Emma said, “I’ll go along with this damn training method”. The empoleon took a seat, her fins crossed. Scarlet let out a smile seeing that as she walked to them. “Welcome back” Violet said, “I’m...sorry about earlier. It’s a habit I’m trying to kick...and failing it seems”. “No no it’s fine” Scarlet said, though a blush did appear through her already red face, “I’m sorry for walking out on you girls. It wasn’t very….leader like” “Hey, it’s alright!” Riley spoke up, “We all have those days. I mean, you got put into a spot with a lot of responsibility. Can be overwhelming”. “And the match in two weeks don’t help” Sadie said. Scarlet looked to them all and smiled at each and everyone of them. “It’s overwhelming for all of us. Heck, we don’t even know much about each other”. A thought began to race through her head. Training won’t go as well as it should if the teams are complete strangers. Maybe….it’s time these strangers start talking. “Okay, how about for today we skip the physical training and...get to know each other? Tell each other a bit about ourselves”. Riley, Sadie, and Violet nodded in unison. Emma simply rolled her eyes, sitting up straight from her seat. Scarlet was the first one to speak. She told them about her interests in cooking and how she got it from her dad. She also told them that her family had just moved here to Kanto after her dad was given a new job at a fancy resturaunt. Her little brother, Sorell, was brought up as well. Scarlet mentioned different stories with her and Sorrell, such as them baking muffins together. Emma told the team about her family, how they run one of the leading trading corporations. She was homeschooled for most of her life, which she had bragged about being top in her studies and physical training. She used to attend a school over at Sinnoh, when someone tried to take over her family’s company. After it was all settled though did her family brought her to Kanto to join KBA, as it was tradition for her family to do so, even if it was late. Violet spoke about her interests in singing. How she wants to be a singer and do tours around the world. She always liked seeing people smile with her voice and how she was put into school so she can work on something to fall back on. Her parents believe she can achieve her dream, but they want her to be sure she’ll have something if something goes wrong. She apologized to Scarlet again about the incident from earlier. She explained how since she evolved, she can’t help but feel things that are warm and soft. “I-it’s okay” Scarlet told her, “Just...give me a warning next time”. Sadie’s family runs a spa resort over at Viridian Forest. It officially opened a few months ago and since then business was good. She’s been in the academy for about a year, same as Violet. They were lab partners and Violet was stressing over it, saying she needed to pass so she could bump up her bad grade. She helped her relax and ever since they passed the project, they became friends. She also told them about her….situation involving her Water Absorb ability. “....hot…” Riley muttered with a goofy smile on her face. “What was that?” Sadie asked. “No nothing! My turn!” The smeargle went on about her family. Her father worked at a cracker factory, which helped their family financially, and how her mother was actually a wrestler before she decided to settle down with her dad. She also explained about her love of art, drawing things like fantasy. Riley didn’t told them about her habit of drawing females in sexy outfits and lewd situations or how she genderbends males into sexy outfits and lewd situations. “Well, this is going well” Scarlet said, “Now, I think while knowing each other is good, we also need to do things together” “Oh? Like what?” Sadie asked. “Simple. We all go and get pizza. Don’t worry, it’ll be my treat” They all smiled as they got up to their feet. “I hope you girls like sausage on your pizza. I know a great place who has great sausage toppings”. “Sausage?” Emma spoke up, “Please. Why on earth would you want something to barbaric as clumps of meat just dropped on top of the cheese? I say we get pepperoni. Gently sliced into thin pieces and set in a way that covers every spot”. “Pepperoni? But that’s so plain! And you got to try this pizzerias sausage!” “I will not! We’re getting pepperoni!” “Sausage!” “PEPPERONI!” SAUSAGE!” “Uuuuggghh!!!” Sadie growled out, “Is there anything you two can agree one?!” Just then, the door to the arena slide open. Out came a small figure, a bit pudgy, as it waddled over to the girls. It was a little teddiursa, looking up to the ladies. “Um, excuse me” he spoke out, “M-me and my sister has this arena for the hour. A-are you finished?” The room fell silent as they all just looked to the bear. ***** “Sorry about the wait Petie” a kangaskahn said as she went through the arena door, “But I got the umm….” The newcomer stopped in her tracks as she sees Scarlet and Emma, who are currently sandwiching the teddy pokemon between them as they cooed and snuggled him. “Awww!! Look at his adorable cheeks!” “I just want to eat him up!” “AWWWWWW!!” they both said in unison. The teddiursa was letting out a whimper as Emma and Scarlet rubbed his cheeks. “Help meeee” he called to the kangaskahn.                                                            

[a-mess-of-a-princess]

Does the Past Make the Future

So, I posted this on ao3 a long time ago, but I have been encouraged to post it on here as well, and not simply sharing the link. So! Here is Chapter 1 of my Saeyoung x Reader fic 

Warnings: (in later chapters) NSFW

Summary: MC IS NOT READER.MC is your best friend. You haven't seen her in two months because she suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. When she comes back she brings a her new boyfriend, Yoosung, and the cute and funny Seven. You quickly fall for him, but this means you have to open up about your sad past.

I hope you enjoy!

You were so excited. The reason is because your best friend was introducing you to her new boyfriend. You hadn’t been able to see her for while. It was like she dropped off the face of the earth for a couple of months. Turns out she met a new guy and became completely focussed on him, you knew the way she avoided your eyes when she explained this that she wasn't telling the whole story. You didn't push though, seeing as you have secrets of your own.

She said she was bringing two of their friends as well. There were three possible reasons for this: one, she was super proud of her new friends and wanted to include you, two, she was trying to hook you up again, or three, it was a mix of the two.

The two of you have been friends since middle school. You were the new kid and a socially awkward one to boot. MC was outgoing and didn’t want anyone to be left out, she went out of her way to make sure you were a part of everything. Eventually you guys ended up being inseparable, she is also the reason you are more comfortable in social situations in your adulthood. But, because of your childhood tendencies, she feels the need to try and get you laid. Even though, you are fully capable of doing this yourself.

You agreed to meet at this cute coffee shop that MC said another one of her friends recently opened. You weren't a huge fan of coffee but she promised there would be sweets, which was your weakness.

You purposely took longer to get ready because you didn't want to arrive first, and be forced to stand there by yourself. Also, even with her constantly trying to hook you up, MC has great taste in men. You had your hair up in a high ponytail with your bangs plus some extra hanging down the side of your face. The outfit was high-waisted jean shorts, a crop-top that had a galaxy look to it, and gladiator sandals.

As you walk up to the coffee shop you see MC holding hands with a cute little blonde. You actually recognize him, you have seen him on campus a few times. You only take a few classes there because oddly enough you enjoy learning. The classes tend to have a psychology feel to them, although you do enjoy cooking classes.

Next to them are two different boys. One is tall with white hair that looks like a weird mullet. Even with the odd hairstyle you had to admit he was very attractive with his red eyes and the structure of his face. The boy next him was even cuter. He had a mop of red hair and these huge yellow and black glasses, behind them are golden eyes. He was slightly shorter than the weird mullet man, but he was still taller than you.

You are about 5 steps away from them when MC finally notices you and jumps in for a hug with all her might. You almost lose your balance but you have ninja reflexes (hahaha) so you manage to make yourself upright before your ass hits pavement.

“___! Oh my god! I've missed you!” She practically yells in your ear.

“MC, you just saw me a week ago. Although you did abandon me for two months.” You put on your best pout but end up laughing at her guilty expression, which makes her laugh in turn.

“___, this is my boyfriend, Yoosung.” She grabs the blonde boy's hand again and he beams. You have to admit, they are adorable.

“Oh so that's your name,” you exclaim, “I've seen you on campus a few times. I take a few classes every now and then.”

“Although she doesn't need to,” MC states, “this girl already owns a spa.” She beams at you, she seems more proud of that fact then you are. She turns to the others. “This is Zen,” she gestures to the mullet man, “And this is Seven,” she points at the red head.

Zen offers his hand and you take it expecting a handshake. Instead, he raises your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Lovely to meet you.” He was probably expecting a flush but instead you simple quirk an eyebrow at him and say, “Likewise.” Zen looks slightly offended and you hear MC giggle next to you.

Seven actually shakes your hand and says, “Nice to meet you!” His smile is so bright, you have to smile in return. “How long have you owned a spa?! How old are you?! I always thought people who owned spas are wrinkled old ladies!”

You giggle, “ Only a couple of months, and I'm actually only 21. Yes, before you ask that is very young. And no my parents didn't give it to me. I bought it on my own.” You smile gently, you've learned that people tend to get offended when you answer like that but they always have the same questions, so you hope this saves you of that.

“How?!?! Is that even possible?! Plus you take classes? Are you human?” Yoosung practically shouts next to MC. You wink at him and put a finger to your face.

“An expert never reveals their secrets. And I do believe I am human. No one has said otherwise!” You laugh good-naturedly.

Zen looks super excited when he exclaims, “Oh, is that one by the gym on Walnut?! Sensations Massage?”

“Actually, yes it is.” You look up at with a small smile and tilted head. “Why?”

“I go to the gym right next to it. I went in once to get a quick message after a rehearsal. It was amazing! The incense you use is great and the employees are so nice!” Zen is practically jumping up and down in his excitement.

You beam at him, “Thank you! That actually means a lot!”

“Let's go in and say hi to Jahee!” MC grabs your arm and pulls you into the cafe. You hear the boys snicker at MCs antics.

MC introduces you to Jahee, she seems like a sweet girl and you instantly like her. You order three snicker doodles only to have MC roll her eyes at you. You stick your tongue out at her and catch Seven smiling at you. You instantly close your mouth and flush slightly.

You follow MC and others to a large table, which is actually two pushed together, with you next to MC and Seven across from you. Yoosung is right next to MC. Talking to Zen about a play.

“What about a play?” you ask.

“Oh! I'm sorry!” Yoosung waves his hands in Zen's direction, “Zen is an actor, he recently got a roll in a musical. Rehearsals start tomorrow, right Zen?”

“Yes! I'm very excited!” Zen then continues to talk about the role and how he is a perfect fit for the role because of his “good looks” and “amazing voice.” You soon tune out because his ego grates on your nerves.

Seven notices that you are spaced out with a cookie hanging out of your mouth and pokes your arm. You startle into awareness, this forces part of the cookie to fall on the floor. You pout at it before picking it up and pouting more until you wrap it in a napkin and place it on the table. You finally look at Seven to see him trying to hold in his laugh.

“What's so funny?!” you poke him in the arm as well.

“Your face…” he finally begins to laugh, very uncontrollably. Everyone is staring at him by this point. He soon calms down enough to get out, “your… face when the… the cookie fell was… it was so cute… I can't….” he bursts into laughter again. Your face is bright red and you try to hide it. Seven notices and grabs your wrists to prevent you from doing so.

“No! Don't hide.” You stare at him and he blinks, wrenching his hands back as if he didn't realise his own movements. MC elbows you in the side and you glare at her.

The rest of the visit was pretty uneventful. Zen continued to talk about his role, everyone filled you in on his success which lessened the dislike of his ego a bit, if he was that good he deserved to brag some. Yoosung and you talked about classes, even though neither of you took the same classes it was fun. It was also a bonus that Seven seemed impressed. You would be lying if you didn't find the eccentric red head interesting and cute as fuck. He made jokes and silly comments the whole time. He was also very intelligent. The two of you bonded over memes, psychology, and cats. You both even laughed as soon as Zen started sneezing complaining to you both to shut up.

The downside was the whole time your face was red because every time you would try and sneak a glance at Seven he would already be watching you. This did fill you with a sense of pride but it was also very embarrassing. It ended all too soon when Seven said he had to go home because his brother was calling him complaining that there wasn't any food.

“It would be easier if he would eat Honey Buddha chips and PhD. Pepper like me!” he exclaimed as he stood.

“You can't expect that of him! That is way too unhealthy!” MC laughs as well as Zen.

“It is a perfectly okay diet! Haters!” he feigns upset while crossing his arms until his phone dings again. “Ah geez, okay I'll talk to you guys later. It was nice meeting you, ___.” He turns to leave and is almost to the door when he abruptly turns around and walks back. His face is a little red when looks at you.

“Actually, um… ___?” he fidgets.

“Yes?” You look up at him confused.

“Can I um…” he glances at MC whom you feel move next to you, you have no idea what she did but it seems to spur Seven on. “Can I get your number?” He looks at you hopefully but you can see his nerves and his doubt. You can feel your chest tighten and your breath catches.

“Oh um yeah sure… Definitely,” You flush at your apparent excitement and his sincerity. He hands you his phone and quickly type in your number and name. When he has his phone back he looks and beams, he types a few more things and then looks at you.

“Great! Thanks! I'll text you?” You smile and nod. “Bye guys!” he waves and practically skips out of the cafe.

You turn back to everyone and they are beaming at you. This forces your face to get even redder. MC elbows you again and giggles. You huff but can't hold back a small smile.

****

Everyone left pretty soon after that. You bought more cookies before leaving, much to Jahee’s excitement. The two of you exchange information because you ended up staying and talking to each other. You get along swimmingly and her baking is amazing. So, bonus.

Once you are finally home to kick off your shoes and flop onto the couch. You can't help but giggle to yourself because today was so much fun. You saw MC, her boyfriend is adorable, her new friends are amazing, and Seven is so adorable you feel like your heart is going to poop it’s pants.

Right then your cat, Mari, jumps right on your stomach causing you to grunt. She is a dark grey fluff ball with a black face and green eyes. She curls up on you and starts purring like a freight train. You hear your phone ding and you reach over to the coffee table, trying your best not to disturb Mari. It was from an unknown number and you hope that it is from Seven. You unlock your phone and grin.

Hey! It's Seven!~ Sorry it look so long to text you! Searan made me go get him ice cream as well! >_<

No problem! ^-^ Is he at least enjoying it?

Searan will always enjoy ice cream!!

You receive a picture of, whom you are assuming is Searan, looking completely content. You in turn snap a picture of Mari on your stomach and send it to him saying. He looks as happy as Mari here!!

OMG! Is that a cat?! YOU HAVE A CAT?! She is so cute! Almost as cute as Elley!

Who is Elley? O:

My friends cat! He won't let me hold her though! :'(

For shame! You can always hold Mari! She loves cuddles. P:

For real?!?! A cute girl and a cuddly cat?! I won the Jack-pot!

You flush and giggle. Before you can reply you get another text.

Sooo… I know we just met buuuuut….. Would you like to go on a date with me? o///o

As if you could say no.

I would love to!! :3

[kpop--fics]

Soulmate!Eunwoo

[Soulmate AU: Whatever mark you get on your skin, your soulmate gets it too.]

Word count: 1.826

---

You were sitting in class, when suddenly, a smiley written in blue sharpie appeared on your skin. “Y/n, are you drawing on yourself?” Your seatmate, Jinwoo, asked. “No? Where did you get that idea?” You replied, having no idea what he was even talking about.

Grabbing your wrist, he held up your right arm so you could see too. “Oh. That’s… weird.” Was all you said, resulting in a face palm next to you. “Y/n, don’t you get what this means? Everything that your soulmate writes on his skin, will appear on yours too! That means your soulmate is also having this on their skin!” He excitedly told you.

“Y/n! Don’t talk when I am teaching you something!” Your biology teacher yelled through the classroom. “Yes, sir…” You said, pissed because you technically did nothing wrong.

“This always happens. Can’t you shut up during classes once?” You asked Jinwoo when the lesson had ended. “Sorry, but I just had to say it.” He grinned, seeming content with himself. You rolled your eyes at the sight of it.

“But anyways what were you saying again?” You questioned, interested in what he was talking about. It was something about soulmates, after all. “Well, if your soulmate gets injured of writes on his skin or does anything that leaves a mark basically, it shows on your skin, too. Simple as that.” He shrugged.

Interesting. That meant your soulmate was currently drawing happy faces on his arm? Reaching in your backpack, you grabbed a black sharpie and drew a sad face just beneath his happy one. “What are you doing?” Jinwoo asked, confused by your behaviour.

“Well, if what you just told me is correct, he will be able to see this one too, right? Let’s see if he can!” You sang and started walking home.

“Hey, Y/n! Wait for me!” Jinwoo yelled while running behind you.

That night, just before going to sleep, you felt something itching on your arm. Looking down, you saw there was being written beneath your sad face.

“Not feeling well?”

Well, you did write it while being in your least favourite class, so you were anything but happy.

“Just bored. What about you? Why that happy face?”

You wrote back. It took some time, but a while later you finally got a reply back.

“I won something… important to me. But that aside, do you know why this keeps showing up on my skin?”

“Well one of my friends recently told me if we were connected like this, we are soulmates.”

Again, there was this kind of… awkward silence almost hanging between you two. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you both didn’t know who you were talking to, you figured.

You looked down again, and you still hadn’t gotten any reply. “Well, let’s just go to sleep then.” You concluded, and started getting ready for the night.

You stepped in the shower, and started washing off all the marks that were spread across both of your arms from the previous conversation. Your writings washed off almost immediately, but his… no matter with how much pressure you rubbed over it, they just wouldn’t leave.

Turning the shower off, you quickly grabbed anything that could write and was within reach in the bathroom. You ended up getting eye liner. “This will do for now.” You shrugged, and started writing angrily.

“Hey! Use a non-permanent sharpie next time! Thanks in advance.”

After that, you slipped on your pyjama and went to sleep, not willing to think more about it.

It was now a week later, and you were always looking forward to class now. “Y/n, you seem happy to be visiting biology. It’s creepy, stop it.” Jinwoo said, a bit scared by your 360 turn in behaviour. You just chuckled, looking forward to the conversation.

The past days, you had been occupied by talking to your soulmate. You both agreed that if you were indeed soulmates, it couldn’t hurt to get to know each other better, so that was what you were going to do.

Five minutes in the lesson, and you were already bored as hell. Could this teacher make it any more sleep-inducing? Yawning, you wished for the hour to be over. Suddenly, you got this feeling of a funny itch on your arm again.

“Grcs @ 4p”

Weirded out by the letters on your hand, you tried to make sense of it, but to no avail. “What’s that?” Jinwoo whispered. Or at least, tried to whisper, because your teacher shot you an angry glance again.

“No idea, it must be something my soulmate didn’t want to forget or something.” You shrugged. To be honest, you were really curious what it could possibly mean. So, the only option was to ask him.

“What’s this?” You wrote, with an arrow pointing to the weird text. It wasn’t long before you got a reply back.

“I need to remember going to do some shopping this afternoon, otherwise my band members will totally kill me”

“Band mates? You’re in a band?”

“Yeah, but we’re not that big of a deal, really…” He answered. It was almost like he was shy talking about this subject. So, you decided to talk more about it.

“My best friend is in a band! Maybe he knows you :)”

“Well, you don’t know which band I’m in, have fun explaining :)”

Great. After that, the conversation died a bit, resulting in just doodles you both received and altered. In your last lesson of that day, you looked down and saw a drawing of a minion on the inside of your left palm.

Chuckling quietly so the teacher wouldn’t hear, you gave him weird classes and a moustache.

“HEY DON’T GO ALTERING MINIONS LIKE THAT”

“Wow all caps… you just don’t appreciate my beautiful art”

“Whatever, I’ll just draw more!”

Sure enough, before class was over that day, your whole arm was covered in drawings of minions. “Y/n did you really think math is that boring?” Jinwoo teased you. “Hey, I didn’t draw these! How would I even reach my elbow!” You yelled at him, covering them all up in a long sleeved jacket.

“That aside, do you want to join me and the boys for dance practice? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The boy asked, setting up his puppy eyes. “You don’t have to beg silly, you know I can’t say no to that!”

So, there you were, in front of the Fantagio building. Out of nowhere, your right hand started hurting like crazy. “Shit! Jinwoo, I think I have to sit down for a bit, this really hurts.” You told him while you were dropping to the ground. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked all worried. All you could do was point to your hand while trying not to scream your lungs our from the pain.

“I see… your soulmate must have touched something sharp. It’s a wound, but it isn’t that deep. Should I bandage it?” He asked, finally acting like a best friend to you. “I think I can handle it. I’ll walk there myself.” You answered, not wanting to rely on him for everything.

“I’m sorry. It must hurt, I’m so sorry.” Appeared just after you went inside the building.

“It’s fine, really. Try to stay uninjured from now on! Are you alright?”

“Yea, don’t worry about me!”

Relieved, you put your sharpie back in your pocket. Yes, you always carried a non-permanent marker to write on your skin at all times. Dropping the subject, you went to look for some bandages. “Where do they store those things?” You muttered, starting a hunt for them.

Having bandaged your hand, you walked over to the practice room. Knocking three times, you opened the door. “Look who we have here!” MJ let out, happy to see you again after what must have been at least a year. Sanha came running from the other side of the room and engulfed you in a big bear hug. “Hey, looks like you will outgrow me if you keep growing like this!” He said, looking at you from head to toe. “Hey, If I’m older than you, I can be bigger too!” You said while ruffling his hair.

Greeting the rest of the band, you shook hands with Moonbin, fist bumped Rocky and arrived in front of Eunwoo. You two never interacted that much, so you went for just a normal handshake. Upon grabbing his hand, you noticed that he had pain. Looking down, you saw a wound on his hand.

The same wound you had before patching it up.

“Eunwoo, maybe you should bandage this, it looks like it might hurt!” You said to him. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He answered, leaving the room.

You felt someone walking towards you, so you turned around, only to be met with a smirking Jinwoo. “Say, Y/n… didn’t you say your right hand also hurt just now?” He asked you, knowing he was right about this. All the other members looked at you, too shocked to say anything.

Right before you could answer, Eunwoo came walking back into the room again, this time without his jacket that had previously shielded his arms. Sure enough, on both of them, drawings of minions were visible. “What is this weird atmosphere hanging here? What happened when I was gone?” He asked, looking around from face to face, waiting until someone would explain him.

Faster than telling him, you figured showing him would be easier. You grabbed the zipper of the jacket and zipped it down, letting the jacket slip off of your shoulders. The confused boy was first looking at you with the most confusion you had ever seen. Why would you be taking off your jacket in this kind of situation?

Upon seeing his drawings on your arm, his mouth fell open. “Are you serious right now.” He uttered, walking over to you, examining the drawings on your and his arm. Meanwhile, the other boys where on the other side of the room, watching how all of these events were unfolding themselves.

“Let me… just do this real quick.” You said to him, grabbing your sharpie out of your back pocket. “You carry that around?” Eunwoo chuckled, still not believing the things that were happening right in front of his eyes. You nodded, and brought the sharpie closer to your skin.

Deciding on what to draw, you drew a little heart quickly on Eunwoo’s nose. After seeing his expression change, you were sure it was visible in your nose now too. “Believe it now, minion boy?” You teased him.

“Hey, I told you not to make fun of him!” He scolded you, offended. You just laughed and gave him a hug, which seemed to startle him a bit. After a few seconds, he eased into the hug and gripped you tightly, not wanting to let you go.

“I’m glad I found you, soulmate.”

[promptistrashqueen]

A Royal Commission (1)

yeah another new project! Courtesy of @fleetstreetfatality ft. tattooed boys again.

Prompto is Insomnia’s renowned tattoo artist and Noctis is about the get his first ink done!AU (yeah that’s a thing now)

The doors, tall dark glass with the shop’s logo emblazoned on them, were covered in chocobo doodles in white chalk. Prompto smiled brightly at the sight and laughed to himself as he turned his key, letting himself in. Sure enough Maddy was sitting in his chair, chalk dust on her fingers.

“Heyo! I hope you don’t mind I used the hida-key to let myself in early. I promise I stole everything worth anything.”

Prompto rolled his eyes, dropping his bag beside his chair and reaching to fist bump his long time friend.He’s grateful she always leaves him a little sign when she does this, or else he’d have a heart-attack. It does mean he has to wash the door at some point though....

“It’s fine. I wish you’d have called though, I can’t fit you in today, I’m booked up all week after you ran that article...best artist in Insomnia...really Mads.”

She just grinned at him and gestured to the tattoos on her arms and legs. He shook his head with another small laugh and starts to get things organized for the busy day ahead, glancing at the clock above the back wall. The soft grey walls are covered in art, potential ink designs and drawings that Prompto simply felt like. A whole wall is given over to photographs of the city and of people. The wall has a surprising number of photos of Prince Noctis, usually with his guards.

Maddy wondered over, looking the pictures over and tossing a look at Prompto who tries not to respond.

“You know, you are the best. I didn’t just write that article because we’re friends or anything. We took a poll, we did our job as journalists. You know who’s vote tipped it?”

Prompto sighed, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, “Are you even supposed to tell me?”

She laughed and shook her head, turning and heading for the door, she paused, ready to go, “It was one of the Prince’s men. You did a big piece for him, a bird of some sort, and he sent us a personal letter. You were already winning, but that did it….I’ll be back when you’ve got time to work on me! Love ya Prompto, later!”

He tossed her a wave, his hand lowered and he looking at his wall of photos, “Gladiolus…..”

His fingers hurt and he shakes them hard, curling them and uncurling them as he cleans up, just about ready for the end of the day. The last piece he’d worked on had been a massive project that was just being finished, an intricate clock and lace thing.

Prompto is used to the cramps in his fingers and the end of the day routine, but not to the sound of someone knocking on his locked door. He turns to look and has to blink, because on the other side of the now chocobo free glass is the Prince. He gives a little wave and is biting his lip with an apologetic motion of his head. Prompto practically vaults over his chair in his hurry to let in the Prince of Lucis.

“Prince Noctis, sorry sorry, welcome!”

The dark haired male smiles a little and nods, “It’s fine, I know it’s after hours...I’m looking for uh, Prompto?”

Prompto nods, rubbing nervously at his black jeans, “Y-yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you?”

The Prince looks him over more carefully, taking in the bright ink on his arms and the lip ring he plays with nervously.

“I read an article about you...and Gladio practically talked my ears off about how good you are...so I thought I’d come see for myself before I decided.”

Prompto’s eyes grow wide as it slots together, “Decided? You...you want me to work on you? Yeah...I mean, it would be really cool. Uh, have a look around, most the stuff on the walls is little, flash pieces and everything. Charlie’s stuff is on the left, Loqi’s all on the front wall by the door and the rest is me….”

Noctis nods, smiling a little and starts to examine the right wall, standing near the photos on the back wall. Prompto swallows nervously, shifting and trying to finish sterilizing the main space where he’s been working the whole day.

“Do you work on everyone out here?” The Prince’s voice is much closer than Prompto expects and he jumps a little.

“N-no. It’s only if there’s only one person in for the day, so we can keep an eye on the people coming in and out and everything. Or if we’re doing a demonstration sort of thing. I-uh, I usually work in the second room in the back, through that door.”

He points to a dark purple door set unobtrusively in the wall and Noctis nods.

“Good, I’d hate to be stared at while I get work done. Can I make an appointment for tomorrow?”

Prompto nearly chokes, because he expected the Prince to choose one of the other’s, after all Loqi’s work is beautiful, angular and geometric, and Charlie’s is all what he expected someone who looks like Noctis to like, skulls and hyper realistic things. His own is more surreal, more like his photographs, sort of blurred at the edges.

It registers he hasn’t actually answered the question though and as much as he hates saying no, especially to a Prince...he believes in satisfying all his customers.

“I uh...I’m booked for the whole week. I’m sorry. I can get you in next Tuesday though? Or uh, I think Charlie had someone cancel on him?”

The Prince’s face is unreadable as he looks at Prompto and the blue grey eyes seem to see too much. Prompto shifts, worried that he’s made a misstep in turning down the request. Then the Prince smiles, a wide stretch of his lips and laughs.

Prompto smiles, a little confused, in return, feeling blindsided. A hand is stuck out and the other man rubs at his neck.

“Tuesday is fine! I-uh- I’d like you to call me Noct.”

Prompto takes his hand, shaking it, “Al-alright. I can do that. Just, take my card,” He tugs one out of his back pocket and hands it over, still holding Noctis’ hand, “you can email me or call to talk about the design. I’ll draft something up, unless you already have the image?”

Noctis’ smile just brightens, “Nothing at all, just an idea.” He releases Prompto’s hand, finally and Prompto is left feeling like something's been lit in his chest.

“I’ll see you Tuesday Prompto.” Just like that he’s gone again, walking away from the shop in the evening light and Prompto’s standing alone.

“Yeah...Tuesday.”

The first email comes in on Wednesday. It’s late in the evening and Prompto’s running on coffee, because Loqi keeps making him drink it to get work done, and he’s bleary eyed as he clicks to open it. Immediately he feels a little more awake, probably because his heart-rate picks up seeing Noctis’ question.

Prompto,

    Before we start talking about the actual design, I wanted to make sure my placement would work. How difficult would it be to integrate or cover a large scar? I...would rather not send a photo of it, so I understand if I need to choose a new place for the tattoo.

Thanks.

Noct

P.S. Ignore the stupid signature thing, I can’t delete it :(

Noctis Lucis Caelum

Prince of Lucis,

Guardian of Insomnia,Protector of the Divine Light

Prompto reads the email twice, his stomach clenching. He hates the thought of Noctis being hurt, especially because the way that the Prince says he doesn’t want to involve a photo of the mark. He knows it’s stupid, because he doesn’t really know this person, but he’s always thought Noctis was a kind and lovely person, or at least good at acting like one. That’s why there are so many photos of him on the wall.

The wall he’s now seen.

Prompto groans, rubbing a hand over his face in embarrassment, because how did he not realize that? Changing it now might only draw the Prince’s attention to it, so he supposes he’ll have to leave it.

The email though...he bites his lip, tongue fiddling with the ring thoughtlessly.

“Okay…” He sighs and types his reply.

Noct,

Hey! So, it’s hard to say for sure without seeing the area you’re talking about or knowing anything about the design...but if it’s a design that I can make work around the scar I will! I want it to be where you wanted it! So let’s talk about the designs first and then we’ll see...I probably can’t cover it T.T sorry, but I can work it in, I hope! :)

Prompto.

P.S Yeah I hate them, so troublesome uuuuggh :))))

Prompto Argentum

Awesome tattoo artist, like the best

Really likes energy drinks and dumb jokes

He sends it, silliness and all and stumbles off to bed.

[vernalagnia-blog]

[Fanfiction] Thank You

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon - Slightly Canon Divergence: Do Bong Soon x Ahn Min Hyuk

In this universe, Bong Soon doesn’t work at Ainsoft as game developer because I want to keep their cute relationship free of unprofessional boss-employee trope. And there is no crazy murder kidnapping sub-plot either. Just pure fluffy stuff.

Taking off the watch, Ahn Min Hyuk signs. He debates the idea of working out a sweat and then sleep like a log but decides to hold back until he completes the regression testing of the latest game. The last batch of added new features are going well but he wants to make sure that the established features don’t catch any bug as well.

They are only a week away from the launch of a new game and everyone is in frenzy. He made sure that the cafeteria is open 24/7 and convert two other board rooms into secured napping areas for female employees apart from the usual sleeping corner. But all the catering efforts can’t erase a harsh truth of the gaming industry: his staffs are slowly becoming walking cross-bred between panda and zombie.

So he told everyone to go home today and leave a small team who has not pulled all-nighter stay behind for emergency calls.

He also needs a break from all the office buzz.

Flipping out the cellphone, he is about to set alarm clock for 10:15pm, hoping to catch a short nap before seeing a new message from Bong Soon. His heart swelled at the flashing bright yellow icon but soon flops at the two-sentence message:

“I will stay with grandma for two more nights. I will call you when I get back.”

“Is everything alright? Should I come and pick you up?”

“I know it’s summer but keep warm, don’t sleep in your sleeve-less shirt”

“Send grandma my hello. I will come visit her next week”

Sleep tight Bong Bong!

<3 <3 <3

Looking at the three fluttering heart icons, Min Hyuk lets out another sign. He misses her, really really misses her. He wants to hear her calling him Minmin, wants to see her, hug her and kiss her. But seeing how the messages are unread, she probably deserts the phone somewhere. And he doesn’t want to interrupt her quality time with grandma either. She only gets to see her a few times a year. Not to mention, grandma is sick. Bong Soon could be sick too. And he feels anxious about the possibility.

Tossing the phone on the nearby table, he goes for a shower, hoping to get rid of the murky feeling.

___________________

The regression test doesn’t go well.

At 2am, strained eyes and dampened spirit, Min Hyuk decides on a kitchen break and makes a cup of tea.

It is in times like this that makes him want to call Bong Soon just to hear her voice. But it’s too late into the night. The messages remain unread and it makes him a little lonely.

She’s only been away for three days and he feels like three months have passed.

It’s crazy to think how fast they have gone from being just two complete strangers to a couple in matter of months. No, deletes that statement, they were not completely strangers. He has known her for years. He has kept her in his heart since that Sunday morning, building her an altar and worshiping her devotedly as one would to a savior. He has looked for her traces in any girl in pink but she remains elusive. Just when he resigned to the idea that she was just a creation of his panic mind, Bong Soon stormed in and upended his life.

Sipping tea in front of the closet’s painting, Min Hyuk thinks of wonder and traces the contour of the canvas girl’s hidden face, making a mental note of calling Bong Soon first thing in the morning.

That is when his fingers brush past something plastic. It’s transparent and were put in places which are not very noticeable at the first glance. On a closer look, there are many of them dotting the painting and uncannily resemble sticky notes.

Picking one up for a better look, Min Hyuk realize it’s Bong Soon’s writing. The one he’s holding reads: “Minmin, don’t stay up too late” decorated with a cute drawing of a stick figure snoring out a string of Z letters in descendent size. That one draws a chuckle out of him.

Another draws a big bowl of steaming rice in the middle with a single line “you promise three meals a day” with a pouty face to accentuate the mood. He actually laughs out loud reading the note and feels a bit guilty all at once. He didn’t remember what he had for the last meal or when that last meal happens to be honest. The last few days were hectic and without her around, food doesn’t seem to taste anything.

One note is a reminder of him taking a break whenever the stabbing scar aches. It’s followed by a smaller line saying “I’m sorry.” His smile fades at the line but his eyes are warm. He has an overwhelming urge to drive all the way to Busan to hold and tell her that’s his decision, for his selfish wish of keeping her out of danger, his and his alone. It’s not her fault. And hope to kiss away her misplaced guilt. Oh, how he wishes to kiss her now.

There are quite a few of them sticking here and there. Some are just silly doodles. Some are tips for relaxing neck and shoulder muscle or how to make home-made eye patch. He smiles, laughs and feels warm inside. The unfinished tea has grown cold but Min Hyuk doesn’t notice.

___________________

2pm. Shit. He overslept.

Checking the phone, he saw one message from Secretary Gong assuring that they have received his notes on the regression test results and the development team are working on the issues. They will let him know asap if anything happens. It came in at 9am so work seems to be fine.

Stretching arms, he debates whether he should go to the office at this point but rationalize his choice to stay home as a testament of his amazing leadership skill. If everything can go smoothly without him, doesn’t it show how well he has trained the staff?

Messages to Bong Soon were marked as read but there is no reply. But strangely it doesn’t bother him as much. Maybe he should take this day off to visit grandma, and Bong Soon. Her transparent notes are laid neatly on his bedside table. He took picture of all of them last night and now they will be with him all day wherever he is.

Feeling excited over the idea of getting to Busan, he strolled into the kitchen to get water and almost chokes when Bong Soon chirpily greets him:

-          Good afternoon sleepy head! I’m back!

Apparently Bong Soon is unfazed by his dramatic antic of dripping off water and goes on her monologue as usual:

-          Grandma is getting better so she told me to go home. “A measly cold won’t kill me,” yeah, right, as if it’s not the reason she wasn’t able to get out of bed for three days. But Dad’s cold remedy and Bong Gi’s prescription seem to be working so she is up and around this morning. Gyeong Shim said she would come over to look after her tonight so that’s why I come back. Mom made so much side dishes, I brought some for you. I bet you haven’t eaten any since forever so should we have ‘linner’?

-          Well, hello beautiful stranger, and I believe you mean ‘dinner’? 

A shocked but very awake Min Hyuk lightly teases the cheerful woman unpacking several little containers at his kitchen table

-          Well, dear sleepy stranger, I think ‘linner’ is the correct term. Remember ‘brunch’? What time do you think it is?

-          You haven’t had lunch?

-          Yeah, dad normally eats in shop, Bong Gi is at hospital as always, and mum is off to share the dishes with the neighborhood ladies. I don’t want to eat alone and plus…

Her voice trails off and she seems to be suddenly engrossed in knowing how many containers there are. Min Hyuk is dying to know what comes after her “plus” but they can come back to this “plus” after the meal, when she is well fed, less blushed and more comfortable. They have all the time of the world.

-          Give me two minutes to wash up. Come right back.

He winks at her and skips to the bathroom.

Their ‘linner’ goes on well. Bong Soon told him about grandma and he fills her in about the regression test. They argues a bit over whether it’s time to pull out the Korean flag chopstick and Bong Soon doesn’t look convinced when he said it’s actually an interior design highlight. But he doesn’t lie when he said it’s endearing to him.

They ends up spending the afternoon lounging and absentmindedly watching tv. Head on her lap, he told her of the upcoming launch of the new game. It never fails to excite Bong Soon.

-          Next week! Yay, I can’t wait to play it!

-          And I can’t wait to not worry about it

-          Aw, sleepy head, you will be worry-free soon, but I must admit, your workaholic self is sexier than your usual carefree CEO image.

He loves how her tease mixed with relaxing smile. In his signature move of pretending to be scandalized aka. hand-over-mouth, Min Hyuk signs exaggeratedly:

-          Well, so no future break for me then. Who knows courting would be this demanding?

Bong Soon’s light kiss on his forehead feels ticklish.

-          Don’t push yourself too hard. You have a one-week-of-working-per-month reputation to uphold

He chuckles lightly and leave a perk on her hand.

-          Thanks for the notes by the way. They are awesome!

She quickly realizes what he refers to and smiles shyly.

-          Oh that, so you found them

-          Though the hiding place is quite unique

-          Isn’t her me?

-          That’s why you leave them there?

-          I’m taking care of grandma so I can’t check the phone frequently. And I know you tend to…watch her…a lot…so I left the notes there just in case I can’t reply your messages right away.

-          Thank you

-          It’s nothing…do you like it?

-          I like you

-          Come on, you know what I mean

-          I like you

-          You’re messing with me

-          I love you

The last sentence seems to make her blush more than usual. His strong woman, his love, his friend, his everything blushes when he says he loves her. Min Hyuk feels ecstatic. Her accepting silence emboldens him.

-          I love you, love the fact that you appears in my life, love that I can protect you, and love that we are together, right now and forever

-          Now you’re just cheesy

Bong Soon laughs lovingly.

-          But what’s up with the stick figure? I don’t think I’m that skinny…or maybe I am. Time to get back to the weight bench. I have to tell you, I’m not a weight-lifting kind of guy, not really my style, I’m more treadmill type of guy, elegant and smooth…but you insist…

-          I missed you, for the past three days.

-          ...

-          I miss you a lot it’s ridiculous. I miss you. I love you.

He can feel her hand in his is getting warmer. Min Hyuk doesn’t look up but he knows she is blushing. They’re both ridiculous, in love, and deliriously happy. And he doesn’t want it any other way. Putting her hand over his wildly beating heart, he mutters softly:

-          Thank you, for loving me.