#choose one and stick to it for the duration of that conversation thanks

[rockysledding]

I’m starting to realize that my thoughts about my gender is a bit like my thoughts about my hair: For the most part I don’t know what the hell is going on so I just let it be what it is

[sharlotscarletfox]

Masquerade, Dangerously Yours (Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt)

A/N: This story is based on a 1940s radio show that I have been obsessed with and can quote from memory. I love the original material so much, I tried to stick to the script as close as I could, only changing a bit of wording here and there, but this honestly owns my soul. I wrote it for Hogwarts Legacy Pride Week, Day 4: Crossover. Thank you, @hogwartslegacyprideweek, for hosting! This is dedicated to anyone who has ever listened to 'Cigarettes Out The Window' by TV Girl.

Tags: angst, guns, spies, violence, war, major character death

Word Count: 6478 words

“And so, my Marquess Gaunt, you have our reasons for choosing you for this mission. You are very young, you are clever, and you are very handsome. Because of your youth, you should be exceptionally valuable to us.”

The cruel and uncaring words sizing up his most exploitable characteristics didn’t bother Ominis anymore.

Ever since his parents, who were high-ranking government officials, basically sold him off to be a spy for the best interest of the country, a part of him had stopped caring. He quickly caught on that in this line of work, no one cared about his aspirations or personality, only his good looks and persuasive charm that he could use to get the information he needed from his victims and leave without getting attached. 

This was his biggest mission yet, coming from the man whom everyone he had met on his way here had referred to as the ‘Headmaster.’

“I am at your command, Headmaster.” He responded, tone cold and uncaring.

“And you’ll forget my title. In all our communications you will address me as Mr. Black. Now let us get on to fix. I hope the Baron will not be too difficult for you, he’s a short man.” Ominis made an effort to commit every detail of their conversation to memory. “When you have obtained our information, you will conceal the message in this silver pencil. Send it to me immediately. Trust no one. We rely on your discretion.”

“I understand.”

“Very well. “ The Headmaster huffed. “Now, in these papers you will find all the necessary information about Baron Sallow. It has already been arranged just how you will meet him. Tonight you will take the train to the Highlands.”

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

The long train ride was endured in the company of Poppy Sweeting, a girl his age whom he had gotten to know when she was pushed into the same line of work he was. From their brief encounters and few missions, he had learned that her parents were responsible for her employment with the agency and that she had a grandmother in the countryside who would take her under her wing if she ever made it out.

A small, hopeful part of Ominis wished her success in her quest, but he knew that if the agency found out about her whereabouts, both Poppy and her grandmother would face execution if they found them. When they find them.

He listened to her brief him on the Baron. Sebastian Sallow. Very close to their age: parents perished in the war between their countries, a sister who is ill and under the care of their uncle, a veteran who had separated from the force after a classified incident. He is suspected to be deeply involved with the opposing country and in possession of classified information due to his uncle.

Ominis entered the hotel where he and Poppy would be staying for the duration of the mission. He was dressed in his nicest suit, fresh from the dry cleaners. The fabric fit nicely around his calves and chest, putting an emphasis on his well-toned body. Poppy made sure his emerald cufflinks were neatly arranged, and the snake brooch over his heart sat straight. His hair was swept back with some gel, giving Ominis a look of someone wealthy and sophisticated. 

Lastly, she gave him his cane, made from high-quality polished wood, and quietly wished him good luck.

After that, Ominis was officially on his own. He mentally got in character and approached the desk.

“Good evening, sir!” The woman at the front desk greeted him with a cheerful attitude. 

Ominis slid her his room reservation. “Have my bag sent to suite 913.”

“Yes, sir.”

He immediately turned away from her; the longer look she got at his face, the more likely she would recognize him again if the plan went awry. 

Ominis wasn’t given a lot of time for this mission, so he had to make contact with the Baron as soon as he could.

“Good evening, Marquess Gaunt.” A strange man greeted him. 

“Good evening.” He gave a court nod before making it into the dining hall.

“Welcome back, Marquess Gaunt.” Ominis recognized his voice as one of the agency’s associates who worked behind the scenes.

“Thank you, Garreth.”

“Our table for one, sir?” Garreth asked, seemingly posing as a waiter for the night.

“Is Baron Sallow dining?” He asked.

“Oh, he’s at the table by the window, sir.” He responded with an understanding of the situation. 

Ominis bid him goodbye with a swift nod and headed in the direction Garreth had given him. 

He weaved around tables carrying the pleasant smell of freshly cooked dishes, prepared for the wealthier class. People around them carried on meaningless conversations, flaunting their riches, untouched by the horrors of the war. Ominis wondered if they had a high enough tower of coins to hide behind when the battle knocked on their front doorsteps.

The Baron wasn’t hard to find. Ominis could pick him out easily in the crowd of people. He was loud and boisterous, cackling after one of his entertainers said something funny. 

“This morning when I was riding in the park, I saw Everett on the bridal path.” Arrogant attitude and a hint of a Scottish accent. Just as Poppy told him when reading over the mission files. 

He inhaled, processing the most effective way he could get his attention and make sure he could get him alone somehow. 

Settling on the idea of an upset mistress, he exhaled and approached the Baron with purpose.

 “He was…” The Baron trailed off confused when Ominis put on the most scandalized expression he could and slammed the hand that was not on his cane onto the table, just next to the Baron. “I beg your pardon, sir.”

“Here is the watch and the rings and the bracelet you gave me, Lucan!” He produced the items hidden in the pockets of his suit jackets and shoved them into the Baron’s hands, giving him a shove for extra measure. “Take them back. I’m through.”

Ominis then stormed away, not giving the Baron a second to recover. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as the adrenaline eased out of his body. Now, if everything went according to plan, he should find the Baron in his room later, and the first phase of their plan was already completed.

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

Sebastian was stunned for longer than he would like to admit. He was taken aback by the handsome man pushing himself into his personal space and yelling at him about something that he hadn’t even had the chance to process until he was holding the expensive-looking jewelry in his hands, and the very handsome man was almost through the doors of the dining hall.

“Just a moment, sir. You’ve made a…” He shouted, earning a couple of nasty glares from other patrons. He stood up, and the ring slipped between his fingers. 

He looked at the ring rolling away and the retreating figure of his mystery assailant, and then back at the ring again. “Sir, wait!”

He ducked under a neighboring table, which was thankfully empty, and retrieved the ring. He inspected the silver exterior and ran his thumb over the large green stone in the middle. An emerald, he assumed, but Sebastian didn’t grow up around wealth, so he couldn’t tell for sure. 

A waiter, overhearing the commotion, approached him. “Can I be of service, Baron Sallow?”

“Did you see the young man who stopped at my table?” He asked hurriedly. 

“Yes.”

“He left these jewels and a watch. I don’t understand.” Sebastian shook his head. “Do you know who he is?”

“He is the Marquess Gaunt.” The redheaded waiter answered. “He’s in suite 913.”

Sebastian said his thank yous and rushed to find the room.

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

Ominis paced back and forth in his room, wringing the anxiety out of his hands once in a while. His plan had to have worked; no one with a moral compass would hang onto riches that were given to them wrongfully, no man with dignity would let themselves be disgraced like that in public, and lastly, no man or woman had ever been able to resist his looks. 

When a knock sounded at the door, Ominis almost jumped out of his own skin. He gripped his cane tightly and approached the door, initiating the next phase of the plan. “Just a moment.”

“Sir, you have made a mistake. My name is not Lucan. I have never seen you or these jewels before.” He sputtered, clearly out of breath.

“I know.” Ominis flashed him a sly smile and motioned him inside. “Won’t you come in, Baron Sallow?”

“You… you know who I am?” Baron Sallow asked, confused by the sudden development Ominis had sprung on him.

“But of course. You were the most handsome man in the dining room. And I was very lonely.” Ominis placed a hand on his chest, subtly feeling around for a tie if he had one. He slightly tugged on the cloth when he found it, leading the Baron into the room. “So I thought tonight I will have an adventure. I will make the acquaintance of the distinguished Baron Sallow.”

“How do you know my name?” His tone was a bit dazed, and Ominis grinned, knowing he had him under his spell already. 

“It was not difficult to find out.” He let go of his tie.

“How did you know I wouldn’t run off with your jewels?”

“I took that chance. Besides, they’re insured.” Ominis let out one of his carefully practiced laughs. “Are you angry?”

The Baron laughed too, a real, genuine laugh. One that made Ominis’ heart squeeze in his chest. “No, I am not angry. If some kind fate wishes to send a handsome man to dine with me, I can only be grateful. You will do me the honor, won’t you, sir.”

“I shall be delighted.”

Ominis felt the satisfaction of victory in his veins already.

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

“What would you like for dinner?” Sebastian asked him that night. 

“What does a baron eat? Pheasant’s wings and peacock’s breast, and…?” He chuckled lightheartedly at the other’s attempts at impressing him. “I mean, what do you usually eat?”

“What does a marquess usually eat?” 

“Almost anything.”

“Well then, how about roast beef?” He decided.

“All right,” Ominis said with a smile.

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

The two of them spent most of the following week meeting up whenever they had free time, which was often, since Ominis’ schedule was open, so his sole focus would be on this mission. He only had to sneak away occasionally to have a briefing with Poppy about his progress.

During dinners and long walks through the city streets, Sebastian spoke openly about his family, something Ominis already knew but acted like he didn’t. 

He learned that Sebastian radiated pure, unfiltered love and fierce loyalty that would put many soldiers to shame. The first time Ominis heard him talking about his sister, he was seething with jealousy. If any of his siblings had a fraction of the care Sebastian gave his sister, maybe Ominis wouldn’t have turned out this way. 

He would give anything for love like that. 

Eventually, Sebastian asked him to go to the travelling carnival with him closer to the pier. 

The two of them ended up at a shooting game, where Sebastian wanted to put Ominis’ skills to the test. 

“Step right up and watch Monsieur with the green tie shoot the little clay pigeon. Step right up!”

“I’ll never be able to hit a thing,” Ominis complained. He could only really aim at a target he could hear.

Sebastian stepped up behind him, chest pressed against his back, and helped him adjust his posture and aim. 

The gesture gave him an idea of Sebastian’s build. He was a bit taller than Ominis, broad-shouldered, and hid a good amount of muscle under his simple shirt he wore today. His body was warm against his as he helped shift Ominis’ arm up to align his aim with the target with a steady hand. His soft hair tickled his cheek, and his warm breath against his neck.

“Don’t let me down before all these people,” Sebastian muttered and finally stepped away.

Ominis’ yearning for physical contact in that moment should have been his first warning sign. “I’ll try.”

He took a deep, measured breath and pulled the trigger.

The clay shattered on impact, and cheers erupted all around them. Ominis blinked, surprised.

“Good heavens!”

“Hand the gentleman down a plushie.” The clerk announced heartily, and a soft plush in the shape of a snake was pressed into his hands. 

Later that night, lost in thoughts about Sebastian and the mission, he hugged it close and swore it felt like it was suffocating him.

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

Another week passed, and Ominis had accepted the death sentence that was his feelings for Sebastian.

The two of them stood on the balcony of his large suite, Sebastian enjoying the comfortable silence and Ominis marveling at the imaginary guillotine hanging over his head.

“Look, Ominis, a shooting star.” Sebastian shifted closer to him. “Did you wish?”

“I didn’t have time.” Even the stars themselves wouldn’t be able to save him from his situation.

“And there is something you wish for?” He asked after a pause.

“Yes.” Ominis breathed out.

“What did you wish?”

Ominis crossed his arms over the railing, resigning himself to his fate. “I was wishing that we were two other people. Two people that need not say goodbye.”

“Perhaps it can be that way.”

Sebastian did not elaborate, and Ominis’ heart broke into pieces.

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

“Forgive me, Your Lordship, but I’m not easy in my mind about this business.” Sebastian’s assistant, Natsai Onai, who was always the more cautious of the two of them when it came to any form of endeavor and self-indulgence, spoke up. “I wish you wouldn’t go see that man tonight, sir.”

“How could I stay away?” Sebastian sighed, running his fingers over the ornate brooch that Ominis had gifted him on one of their walks. “Natsai, for the first time in my life, I’m completely, head over heels in love.”

“But, Baron Sallow…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he cut his assistant off. “I have a mission to perform, and I have no right to fall in love. But things don’t always work out the way we’d like to have them work out, eh, Natsai?”

That did not stop her from looking uneasy. “Oh, I don’t know what’s the come of all this, sir.”

“No, Natsai, neither do I. Neither do I. But perhaps we shall find out tonight.” He pocketed the snake brooch and exited their suite.

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

“Ominis, I have received a message for you from Mr. Black.” Poppy alerted him when he came back to their shared room.

“What is it?” He asked, trying to hide the unease in his tone. 

Check-ins from his superiors were normal. Ominis had kept the mission in mind these past weeks. Maybe not on the forefront, but it was definitely there; he would never forget his mission. This one was different in the sense that he had budding feelings for his target, but he should have no trouble pushing past those feelings when the time came. He was a trained spy in the line of duty after all. 

“He said that you must obtain our information immediately.” There was something sour in her tone as she spoke, as if she pitied him somehow. “That you’ve taken too long. You are to get it tonight.”

“Tonight?” 

“Mr. Black has been lenient with you because this is your first big mission. But he will not be lenient any longer. It is not wise to anger Mr. Black. He is a dangerous enemy.” She forced the words out, then sighed. “Forgive me, Ominis. I was sent to serve you as an assistant, not to give you advice.”

“You’re right, Poppy. Don’t worry. The mission will be completed tonight.”

Poppy took a step forward as if to say something more. Ominis wished he could tell what she was thinking in that moment.

In the end, whatever she wanted was left unsaid. “You have the silver pencil?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will wait for you at the appointed place. Do not fail us. This mission will be completed tonight.”

Ominis listened for her footsteps approach the door and open it. She lingered in the doorway, as if she didn’t want to leave or wanted him to say more. He had a sudden feeling that if he asked her to run, she would. If he put his foot down right now and told her the mission is over, and they are going to leave, she would have been the first out the door.

Neither of them would tell a soul, and she could go back to her grandmother. Ominis could tell she was a nice girl—polite and kind—and he found her feeding stray cats outside mission locations sometimes. She deserved a good life somewhere far from here, and to live happily without the agency breathing down her neck. 

And Ominis could also leave. He didn’t know where he would go. Even if he escaped the agency, there was still the matter of his family’s influence. They would find him, hunt him to the end of the earth. Even if he and Sebastian made it out of here-

He scoffed. These thoughts of Sebastian again compromising his mission. 

Swaying his thoughts and compromisning his damn mission. The one thing he was entrusted with. He only had one damn job and he couldn’t even get done without catching feelings for his target. 

Needing to take his energy out, he started dressing, not remembering whether Poppy left or not. Not that he cared. 

He took his casual shirt off, tossing it to the side.

Stupid Sebastian and his charming words and dinner dates that he took him on. Talking about his sister and his parents, spreading information as if he were an open book. Telling stories as if people’s lives weren’t on the line and making Ominis feel like he was the only one he had his eyes on.

His fingers made quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt.

Taking him to the carnival? Ominis could still recall how his body felt against his, lining it up for the shot at the clay figure. Sebastian couldn’t even imagine how lethal Ominis’ aim was given the right circumstances. He was trained on the correct posture, he knew how to aim based on sound only, and he knew exactly how to deal with the recoil of multiple types of weapons and how warm it felt in his hands after a shot.

He slipped on his pants and put on his jacket.

Sebastian had to have been playing him. He talked smoothly, letting information slip at just the right moments. He had to have known what was going on. No one this charming and romantic would ever take him to the balcony to describe constellations. Sebastian and his stupid sweet words and fierce loyalty, and flirty tone that made Ominis feel so warm-

He stopped to take a deep breath, trying to push his rising rage down. 

He fit the gun where he knew it would be concealed in his outfit, just in case.

He will resist the temptation that came with Sebastian Sallow, and he will accomplish his mission.

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

They were on the balcony of Sebastian’s suite again. Ominis crossed his arms over the railing and enjoyed the cool breeze that came with the Scottish nighttime. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to ease his anxiety. Everything that he had done in the past three weeks had led up to this moment.

Just him and Sebastian on the balcony.

“Ominis, I offer you the three things most dear to me.” He jumped at the sound of Sebastian speaking. “My heart, my country, and my dream.”

He gritted his teeth together, pushing down the emotions threatening to bubble over. Ominis spoke slowly and practiced. “You are too generous.”

“Ominis, you must listen to me. Since that first hour we met, I’ve been completely yours.” He confessed, his feelings flowing freely in contrast to Ominis, who was trying to close his heart. “There’s never been anyone else for me. There never will.”

Panic seized him, and his hands gripped the railing. He could not be serious right now. Why did he pick tonight to confess his undying feelings? Ominis needed to shut it down.

“Oh, please, please don’t say any more.” He attempted to desperately deflect. “There are worlds between us, worlds that can’t be bridged with words.”

Sebastian went quiet for a moment, and Ominis hoped that he would back down from his soulful confession enough to realize what was going on and why Ominis couldn’t accept his feelings.

He heard footsteps beside him as Sebastian approached him by the railing. Ominis felt like every single nerve in his body was on fire.

“You said one night that you wished we were two different people.” Sebastian exhaled slowly. “I think you may have that wish, Ominis.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only that my country is close to its victory and may not need so much of my service any longer.”

Ominis froze. His next words were barely above a whisper: “Close to victory?”

“I’m going to tell you something tonight, Ominis.” Sebastian’s tone was serious, devoid of the flirtation and charm it usually held. “Something that will put my life in your hands.”

“Your life?” Ominis’ dinner threatened to make a repeat appearance. 

“It would mean my life, were the news to get to certain circles, yes.”

Countries, lives on the line, victories. Ominis’ realization that Sebastian was involved in this behind-the-scenes war more closely than expected was overshadowed by the overwhelming fear gripping him. Ominis needed to complete the mission, but he never wanted any harm to come to Sebastian.

He couldn’t imagine a world without Sebastian in it. And if he was right about what Sebastian was implying, he needed to make him leave. Now.

“Then don’t tell me.” He blurted out. “How do you know you can trust me?”

“I love you,” Sebastian told him simply, as if it was a fact of life, a universal truth to be accepted. “And I believe you love me.”

Ominis’ patience snapped, rage taking over. How dare this man put words in his mouth? Even if he was right, he had no right to those feelings. Those were Ominis’ feelings to act upon and confess. Sebastian had no right to take this from him.

“You’re quite wrong. This has been only an adventure to me.”

Not quite a lie. Three weeks of an adventure, and they will never see each other again after tonight.

“That isn’t true, Ominis,” Sebastian argued.

“It is true. You smiled at me, I was flattered. It was an adventure for a holiday mood.” He insisted, taking a step away from him.

“You may as well take my heart, Ominis. It’s already full of you. You walked into it the day we met.” 

“You’re a fool, Sebastian Sallow.” Ominis spat, the conversation derailing way faster than he expected.

“Oh, but isn’t any man who falls in love? Do you know what you are to me?” Ominis wanted to press his hands over his ears, he didn’t want to hear a single word Sebastian had to say. Yet some part of him craved it. He wanted to see Sebastian’s act unravel and bare himself before him. “You’re something to believe in again. You’re the type of person that had ceased to exist for me. A fine and honest man.”

“Oh, my darling, you’re such a child.” Ominis backed up so fast he almost tripped over his own foot. “Take your foolish little dream and your heart and go. Please go.”

“What is it? What’s wrong, my dear?” Sebastian asked, his tone delicate as if Ominis was something fragile.

Somehow, that set him off even more. “You know nothing about me. You’ve known me only three weeks.”

“Three weeks? Ominis, I’ve known you all my life.”

“All your life?!” 

“It’s true.” Sebastian insisted. “I’ve seen you in a thousand plays. Read you in as many books. When I’ve heard beautiful music, I’ve thought ‘he’d like that.’ I’ve looked at flowers and known that one day I’d give them to you.”

“Oh, stop, stop.” His hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking? “You must listen to me. I’m not that man. Perhaps I was once, but I’m not now. You see, you were wrong. You can’t trust me.”

“Are you trying to tell me that someone whose name we both know and won’t mention sent you?”

Ominis’ brain backtracked several steps. Did he let it slip about the mission? He wouldn’t have. He may have alluded to it in his panic, but it shouldn’t have been enough. Gods, he really blew it now, he blew the mission with his stupid feelings. Why did Sebastian pick now to confess his feelings? 

“What are you saying?”

“You see, I’ve known all along.” His words felt like a death sentence, and Ominis’ fate has just been sealed. “I had Natsai look you up the day you arrived.”

“And it didn’t make a difference?” He rasped.

“It didn’t make any difference. You see, I trust you. You came here to betray me and to betray my country.” Ominis didn’t think he was breathing anymore. “That is your mission, Marquess Gaunt. And yet I am so sure of your love that I will trust you with my life and, what is far more valuable, the life of my country.”

“I will betray you.” He warned. Anything to make Sebastian snap out of it, to make him stay away. If he ran now, he could save himself. Ominis wouldn’t stop him.

“If you do, you will betray yourself at the same time.” Sebastian countered, and Ominis had to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Yes. Yes, I know.”

“So you shall know my secret. Even now, as we sit here, there is a great network growing tighter around the foremost nations of the world. Treaties, pacts, alliances being formed against the man who sent you. Tonight, I will sign a pact that will set the wheels in motion to destroy him.”

“Destroy him?” Ominis spoke slowly, trying to wrap his head around what was going on. “No.”

“He’s made a great many mistakes. The greatest of all was sending you here, Ominis.” 

“Why?”

“He knew I should love you.” There he went again, spouting about love. As if love mattered. “But he did not guess that you would fall in love with me.”

His head felt like it was spinning. “No. He didn’t guess that.”

“Then you do see that you cannot betray him.”

“If I betray you, I betray myself. If I betray him, I betray my country.” Ominis looked over to where he knew Sebastian was standing still by the railing. “My country is very dear to me.”

“Dearer than I?” 

The question was posed with such vulnerability that Ominis couldn’t lie. “No. No, not dearer than you.”

“Then will you help me defeat him?”

“Help you?” He asked, confused. “Defeat him?”

“By telling me his plans. That’s the only way I can hope to defeat him.” Something in Sebastian’s demeanor had shifted. “We can’t both win. You’ll see, Ominis.”

“I’m beginning to see.” 

And he was, but not in the way Sebastian would hope. 

All the times Ominis thought that something didn’t add up about Sebastian, that he was too easy to get to. There was always something off about his charming demeanor and how easily he flirted. It all made sense now.

Ominis was being used. He was played for a fool.

“Then you will help me.” Sebastian pushed further, but Ominis didn’t have the strength to give a reaction. He was defeated.

“By giving you any information I may possess concerning our plans?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re very clever, aren’t you? Oh, I can read you like a book now.” Ominis accused Sebastian, pulling out the gun from where it was concealed, and pointed it at the other. “You thought I was young and easily swayed. That you could make me love you. And I would throw over my country. My duty for you.”

Sebastian took a couple of steps back in panic, but Ominis kept the gun trained on him. “That’s not the way to look at it, Ominis.”

“You weren’t so wise after all.” He yelled, emotions spilling over. Ominis let his anger and heartbreak guide his hand. “Because you’ve lost, do you hear me? Lost. You guessed wrong in our little duel of wits. You forget how close hate is to love.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Ominis.” Sebastian’s tone was calmer now, trying to soothe him, but Ominis was pushed to his limit already.

“You never loved me,” he choked out, “you knew that I loved you, and you used that!”

“Ominis, stop talking like a child. We’re playing for countries now.”

“Yes, we are, aren’t we?” He breathed in, trying to get a grip. He was a professional and was trained to keep his emotions in check. “This is a gun in my hand, Sebastian. I’d advise you to be careful what you say.”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment, a tense standoff between lovers on different sides of the same war. In the end, he let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, rather melodramatic, aren’t you? Tell me, will I be the seventh notch on the gun or the eighth?” Something along the lines of defeat. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Smoke?” Ominis asked, incredulous. He hesitated, trying to figure out what Sebastian was playing at here. Somehow, the other didn’t fail to surprise him, even now.

“I always smoke at the theater. Somehow it enhances the performance.”

With a shift of the fabric, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack. Ominis listened as he dug around for a lighter and lit the cigarette. On his exhale, he got hit by the strong smell of tobacco dissipating into the air. He gripped his gun tightly, not willing to let his guard down.

“You can do anything you please, Sebastian.” He sneered. “But you have very little time to do it in.”

“You mean you’re actually going to kill me?” Sebastian humored.

The lighthearted shift in his tone made Ominis train the gun right over where he knew Sebastian’s heart would be violently beating in his chest. “I mean just that.”

“Well, go ahead.”

How dare Sebastian belittle him like that? Ominis would bet his family’s fortune that Sebastian thought less of him because he believed him to be weaker. He thought that just because Ominis happened to fall in love with him, he would cave and give him all that information. He was going to use him and then abandon him without a second thought. 

“I’ll do this my own way. Look, you already know my purpose in being here. Now you will either give me my information or I will kill you. You have until nine o’clock.”

“You won’t do it. You can’t pull the trigger. You can’t pull it because you love me. It takes a very brave and a very cold man to do that, Ominis.” Sebastian was trying to get a rise out of him, and Ominis wasn’t falling for it. “I don’t think you can. Isn’t that true? Isn’t that why you’re waiting?”

“That’s not true.” Ominis insisted, trying to make himself believe it more than Sebastian. 

“Or is it that you want to watch your victim? You want my heart to constrict with agony, my hands to shake.” Not true. Ominis wanted to shake his head. That wasn’t right. “You want me to plead for my life so you can make a generous gesture and spare me. Sorry, Ominis, I don’t seem to be in the mood for prayers tonight.”

“You don’t think I’ll do it. That’s why you’re so brave. You don’t think I’ll do it. You wouldn’t be so brave otherwise. You’re a coward at heart. You lied to me. You deceived me.”

“You tried to deceive me.”

“I’m tired of listening to you.”

“You gave your heart, you know. You’d like me to hand it back whole again, but I won’t. You’ll live a long time yet, Ominis, an eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passers-by, hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit night strangely empty, because when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did a brave thing.”

“You dare to talk of bravery?” He spat, but he was falling apart, unraveling at the seams.

“What else do we have to talk about, Ominis? For me, there will never be another man but you. But for my heart, there is another love that must come before you.” Sebastian mused. “My country… You are so still. Your face is like ice. What are you thinking, Ominis?”

“What does anything you say can matter? You betrayed me with words. What good are words when your heart is breaking? If I fail now, I should deserve to die. You tricked me into loving you.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that you came here for the same purpose?”

“I couldn’t have betrayed you,” Ominis argued, and it was the truth. “I tried to tell you. You said you already knew, I was as honest as I knew how to be.”

“Do you think I wanted to love you, knowing where you came from and what your mission was? Don’t you suppose that every hour we were together I was thinking he’s just pretending?”

“I wasn’t!” Ominis’ voice cracked under the weight of the sincerity of his confession. “I loved you.”

“And I loved you so much I let you pretend, because you brought something to my days I couldn’t stand the thought of losing.” Ominis felt his resolve crumbling. “Listen to your heart, Ominis. Feel it pounding.”

Just as his walls were about to crumble, his watch ticked, signaling nine o’clock. It brought him back to the present. He was holding a gun to his enemy, someone who played him and broke his heart for his selfish gain. “You’re time is up.”

“Then my last words.” Sebastian mused to himself, then confessed proudly. “I love you, Ominis.”

“You’re determined to die with a lie on your lips?”

Blinded with rage, Ominis fired the gun.

Sebastian fell to the ground, his body hitting the balcony floor with a sickening thud. The gun was warm in Ominis’ hands.

“I… love you, Ominis.” He managed between gasps of air, and for a horrifying moment, Ominis believed he wasn’t lying after all.

“Oh, God.” 

Head spinning, Ominis put away the gun with shaking hands and turned around. 

Sebastian was going to die, there was no way around it. 

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

“Natsai… Natsai!” Sebastian choked out when he heard someone walk around his room.

“Where are you, sir?” His vision swam, but he could just make out Natsai frantically pushing through the glass sliding door. “I heard a shot.”

“Help me up. I’ll be all right. Help me up.” 

Natsai slipped a careful hand under his arms and lifted him to sit against the balcony. Sebastian winced in pain, trying to regulate his breathing to the best of his ability. 

“Oh, I knew you should never have come here.” She fretted. “I’ll get a doctor.”

“No, no, no, no.” Sebastian lifted his hand from just under his heart, watching the warm blood rapidly seep into his shirt. “No, it’s too late.”

“I waited right by the door like you told me to, sir.” Natty went back to return with a spare set of sheets and made quick work of wrapping it tightly around the wound. “The other man went downstairs about ten minutes ago. Please let me get a doctor, sir.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, no. I want you to send a message, though, at once. The usual destination.”

Natsai gave him a sad look, but eventually decided that she could not defy orders. “Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Black. The masquerade is over. X-32 reports that Marquess Gaunt is trustworthy and loyal. You may entrust in his care any documents. He will not betray you. Report case 255 closed. X-32. Conceal it was usual, Natsai, in the silver pencil.”

“Please let me call him back.” She insisted, and for a second Sebastian almost said yes. Anything to take a look at Ominis one more time. If he were the last face he got to see before going to the other side, he would spend eternity happy. “You must tell him the truth before it’s too late.”

“Tell him the truth?” He wheezed, the loss of blood making his vision blur. “Tell him the truth so that he will watch the stars through tears instead of following the one cold star that is his destiny?”

Natsai moved to say something, but Sebastian’s time was running out.

“No, no, Natsai. Let him think that I never loved him. One day, he will follow a flag to the same fate as mine. We must leave him the strength for that hour.”

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

Unbeknownst to Sebastian, in that moment when his assistant shut his eyes after his heart stopped beating, he didn’t have to wait too long for his beloved.

Ominis only lived two more cold years, where he shut his heart off from the world, guarding it with greater effort than he would ever give to his own country. Nothing brought him a shred of joy, and he dedicated his time to appeasing his family and taking missions back to back. 

Sebastian’s words haunted him; he heard him in every stranger he bumped into who had a Scottish accent. He felt him every time anyone wrapped a hand around his waist or helped him adjust his aim. He imagined Sebastian the time he had to give his first kiss away on a mission, something he thought he had reserved for Sebastian. He found him over and over again in every ‘I love you,’ in every romantic play, in every warm body against his.

When the stray bullet caught him in the street, he thought of Sebastian one last time and wished he had at least stayed to make sure he didn’t die alone, the same way he held Anne’s hand half a year ago when she took her last breath in that hospital. 

Ominis closed his eyes and hoped Sebastian was waiting for him in hell.

[sobsicles]

claire's not expecting them to be at the door. she blinks at the sight of four men all huddled on the stoop with flowers and what appears to be bags of food flowing from their arms. jack is peeking above a bouquet, beaming at her.

"who's at the door?!" jody calls from the kitchen, her voice muffled by the sound of grease popping and the clanking of pans and spatulas meeting over and over.

"god," claire calls back, because she likes to think she's funny.

there's a beat of silence, and then jody's sticking her head out the kitchen. the moment she sees them, she breaks out into a grin and saunters over, shoving the spatula in claire's hand as she chatters away.

"what's going on out there?" donna asks as claire escapes back to the kitchen to poke at food jody is apparently willing to burn just because the winchesters decided to show their faces today of all days.

"judgement day," claire says dryly.

donna shares a look with patience. "haven't we dealt with that already a few times?"

"only by association," claire admits, "but i wouldn't put it past them to bring it along with 'em now. the boys are here."

"oh, isn't that nice?" donna chirps, already popping up from her chair. "i didn't know they were stopping by today."

"wonder how sam's doing," patience agrees, wandering out the kitchen right along with donna. claire can hear everyone cracking up and talking in the living room.

trust the winchesters to shake things up just by showing up. can't have one goddamn day, can they? well, that's not true. in their case, as far as claire is concerned, they're shitty for showing up and shitty for not. someone has to knock 'em all down a peg or two, so she might as well be the one.

"what did that chicken ever do to you?" kaia asks teasingly as she sidles into the kitchen and stops by the stove, hip-checking claire out of the way to take over.

"the boys are here," claire informs her.

kaia raises her eyebrows. "like, the boys as in the winchesters, or is this a milkshake pun?"

"i can only be so gay, sweetheart," claire says, shooting her a flat look.

"raise the bar a little. could be gayer. you can always be gayer," kaia teases, reaching out to sneak her hand around claire's hip, her eyes bright with amusement.

"you know what? you're right," claire agrees and immediately tries to cop a feel while kaia laughs and dances out of range.

jack appears in the doorway. "hello," he says, whispering for some reason. "claire, i need your help."

"no," claire says, not even glancing at him. she continues to try and put her hand up kaia's shirt, just to see her laugh.

"can i borrow twenty dollars?" jack asks.

"no. aren't you god?"

"yes, but i don't get paid to be."

"well, sucks for you. borrow money from cas," claire mutters, settling in behind kaia as she focuses on the food on the stove, swatting lazily at claire's roaming hands.

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from sam."

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from—wait, why does it matter if it's from dean? just borrow from him."

jack huffs. "i can't. i need the money for dean. i have a card, and i read online it's customary to give money with a card. also, will you sign it?"

"you got dean a card?" claire asks, craning her head around to stare at jack skeptically.

"yes."

"don't tell me it's for what i think it is."

"mother's day," jack confirms unironically.

claire wheezes out a laugh. "oh my god."

"there's a pen in the catty on the fridge," kaia says, clearly amused.

"yeah. yeah, this is—yeah." claire chokes on more laughter and stumbles towards the group of pens in the magnet container on the fridge. she waggles her fingers at jack, clearing her throat, lips twitching. "hand it over, beanstalk. you're a fucking genius."

"oh! thank you," jack declares cheerfully, passing over the card. "so, can i borrow twenty dollars?"

"hell no," claire says. she braces the card against the fridge and swallows down a laugh. sam has already signed it. this just gets better and better. happy mother's day, old man, aka the secondary source of my mommy and daddy issues. you're going for gold with this double-whammy, she writes.

"but i need it," jack insists, staring at her with wide eyes.

claire shrugs. "tough break, kid. what, cas doesn't give you an allowance? is it just me, or are dads getting stricter these days?"

"i didn't think about it in advance," jack admits sadly. "i want to do it right for the holiday. it's mother's day, claire."

"i'm well aware. sorry to break it to you, kid, but last I checked, your mom's as dead as mine," claire tells him, her voice flat. he frowns and she forces herself not to feel bad. everything that sucks for him sucked for her first, so her sympathy levels are a little drained. "father's day will roll around eventually, and you've got a long line of those, so wait your turn."

"i've already done something for my mother today," jack says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "i visited her in heaven."

claire snorts derisively and passes the card back over. "must be nice."

"it was," jack agrees, completely missing the point. "i really can't borrow twenty dollars? i'll pay you back."

"nah," claire says. "who cares anyway? wait, why is dean the mom?"

"well, castiel is my father."

"ah, so it's about them having the hots for each other, then? really, kid, you coulda just made dean your step-dad."

jack blinks. "they have the...hots for each other? you mean sex. they have sex?"

"you know what?" claire points at him with her free hand. "i'm not gonna burst your bubble on that one. you've got enough issues on your own without wondering if mommy and daddy still have a spark, so I'm gonna leave that alone. i've got five dollars. take it or leave it."

"deal," jack says immediately.

money is exchanged, and jack looks like he's on cloud nine. claire's just stoked to see the expression on dean's face when he gets the card. it's a homemade card and everything, nothing like the two claire, kaia, patience, and alex got for jody and donna.

claire helps kaia finish up the chicken, which promptly gets set aside to wait on the rest of the food in the oven. sam wanders in at some point to drop off the food they brought. dessert, by the looks of it. pies and cakes that go in the fridge. it's kind of them, but claire would shoot herself in the foot before she ever admits it.

she lets kaia tug her into the living room where everyone is already at, rolling her eyes at how cheered everyone seems just because the winchesters happened to grace their doorstep. really, they all suck.

but also—and claire will never admit this, not even to save her own life—it's nice to see 'em again. it's nice that they've come to celebrate the day in jody and donna's name, giving them flowers and such. it's nice that they hang around for a bit and don't bring the world crashing down on everyone for the duration of their stay.

and, well, it's nice to see cas, too.

he perches up next to the couch that claire is squeezed on with alex, donna, kaia, and jack. kaia is practically in her lap, but claire is secretly glad for the excuse. while everyone talks and has conversations across one another, cas focuses entirely on her.

another thing claire will never admit is how reluctantly pleased by that she is. it warms her. stupidly, it turns soft and gooey in her chest that he automatically gives her his undivided attention over everyone else, even jack. but, then again, it's not cas' day, so she doesn't have to look too close to that feeling. it's mother's day, so it's not about him.

when the food is ready, they reconvene in the kitchen, and that's when they crack out the cards and gifts. claire is practically vibrating with laughter before jack has even brought his card out. before that, though, she smiles softly and strokes kaia's thigh under the table as jody and donna read their cards and chuckle at the messages, their gazes warm and their smiles sweet. they look happy. they deserve to be.

"okay, last one," claire announces, grinning at jack. she's starting to think she likes this kid if he's an agent of chaos like this.

and okay, maybe she hates him a little in abstract, but in detail, she finds that she does actually like him. you kinda just wanna put him in your pocket without meaning to, she's learned. there's too much to explore with the whole psuedo sibling thing and parents that aren't parents, as well as parents that are but didn't choose to be, only he did choose one of them, and it wasn't her. it's complicated, but underneath it all, there's a vibrant love there that she can't look directly at. sometimes, she despises that she's included in it; yet, just the same, she's thankful that she is.

"oh hell," dean mutters, swinging his gaze between alex and patience. "one of you...ya know? did we miss something?"

claire snorts.

"what? no," alex replies, grimacing. "i have no idea what claire's talking about. claire, what the hell are you talking about?"

"jack?" claire prompts in a wheeze.

"here you go," jack chirps, holding out the card to dean, beaming. "happy mother's day."

the expression on dean's face is somehow even better than claire imagined. she howls with laughter while sam buries his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking. cas squints at jack, and jody's eyebrows fly up at the same exact time that donna grins.

"is this a joke?" dean sputters.

"no, no, nope," claire chokes out, nearly fucking crying with laughter. "happy mother's day, dean."

"you gotta take it, man," sam agrees, clearing his throat and biting back a smile as he bobs his head dutifully towards the card.

dean fixes sam with a flat look and snatches the card. "you're all so fucking—sam, you signed it?!"

"happy mother's day," sam says, his mouth pinched, visibly trying not to laugh.

"do you like it?" jack asks earnestly. "i made the card, sam signed it first, and claire provided the money."

"i—" dean stares down at the card, then heaves a sigh and looks up at jack. it's clear to him that—out of everyone—jack is clearly taking this very seriously. he offers him a weak smile, then swallows. "yeah, s'great, kid. thank you. sam, you are dead to me. claire, i will be spending this on something you hate. cas, this is somehow your fault."

"yup, sounds like a mother to me," jody declares, holding up her beer with a smile.

"welcome to the club," donna agrees, holding hers up as well. "everyone else annoys the shit out of you, but you love 'em anyway."

dean sighs and clinks his beer to theirs.

[fridge-reviews]

Boyfriend Dungeon

Developer: Kitfox Games Publisher: Kitfox Games Rrp: £15.49 (Steam) $19.99 (Itch.io) Released: 11th August 2021 Available on: Steam and Itch.io Played Using: An Xbox One Control Pad Approximate game length: 8 Hours

I have to say I wish the real world worked like it does in this game, whatever fears and insecurities you have just manifest in a dungeon in your local area and you can just go there and beat the tar out of them to get over it. That'd be great, especially since the monsters strictly stick to the dungeon and never ever leave. Not sure how I'd feel about people turning into weapons though that has all sorts of moral and social questions that I wouldn't want to think on for too long.

Before I start into the review proper I feel I need to make it known that I was one of the backers for this game on Kickstarter.

Y'know its been difficult trying to explain Boyfriend Dungeon to my friends. I mean, it sounds like some kind of BDSM themed hentai game which incidentally I do have one of those to review at some point but that's a while off. What Boyfriend Dungeon actually is is a dating simulator/visual novel combined with a isometric dungeon delver. It should be noted that even though this game is called 'Boyfriend' Dungeon you don't actually have to have a boyfriend, you could have a girlfriend or even a non-binary person... hell there's even the option of a cat eventually if you don't want to have a romantic relationship at all.

When you start the game you get to name and design your player character which includes an option to pick which pronouns you prefer (the default being they/them). Regardless of what pronouns you choose it doesn't place any limitations on who you can date. And if you later decide you want different pronouns, a new look or a new name you can change it all simply within your apartment.

The game is set in the town of Verona Beach (which I assume is the one in New York state). Your player character has come to visit for the summer and luckily has an apartment to live in rent free for the duration thanks to your very kind cousin. In short order your character discovers that apparently some people can turn into weapons and those that chose to make use of them (with consent) are given the title of wielder. Of course, just because the rent is free doesn't mean everything is paid for, you still need to eat after all (not that that's something you have to actually manage in the game). In yet another stroke of luck you can get make money by dungeon delving. It seems that dungeons filled with monsters have been appearing and they drop money when you kill them. They call this past time “dunj-ing”... a term I thoroughly disapprove of.

As you date and flirt with the weapon-people you increase their 'love rank'. Doing this unlocks new skills that each weapon has. Dependant on which weapon you take with you into the dungeon your combat style will change for example; the glaive is slower but more powerful while the daggers are quick but relatively weak on their individual strikes. As the weapons gain more skills and effect your tactics will change.

The monsters of the dungeon are manifestations of your fears and insecurities. In the player characters case they mainly seem to be old rotary telephones, flip phones and CRT televisions. The game will eventually tell you what the fear in question is if you defeat the dungeons final boss. If you happen to run out of health while in a dungeon (which is the only place you can lose health) you fall unconscious and are retrieved by paramedics. There isn't really a downside to this as all items and money found in the dungeon are kept. As you would expect with a dungeon delver as you fight you gain experience and eventually increase in wielder level. Since all the moves come from the weapons this increase doesn't change anything other increase your health pool and attack power.

While on dates (and in certain places within the dungeon) you can give gifts to your potential paramours, each one has their own likes and dislikes that you can work out through conversation and by just paying attention to what they like and don't like (similar to real life). What I found interesting is that unlike most dating sims I've come across its not you doing all the giving, sometimes your love interest will have a gift or two to give you as well.

You can find materials and blueprints in the dungeon to craft gifts and cosmetic items. That's right this game has crafting! Like every other game in existence it seems (sorry I'm just over inserting crafting into every game). It's perfectly functional and I like that quite a few of the cosmetic items you make are references to other games by Kitfox. I'm also slightly bemused by some of the items used in the crafting, I made a pizza using some wire and sugar, I'm pretty sure that's not what pizza is made out of, but what do I know?

Typically visual novels tend to be... verbose. That's not the case in this game, while it's all very well written its clear the developers wanted to keep things succinct and stuck to the most important and impactful parts. I do urge that if you play this game not to simply skip past all of this as there are some very heartfelt scenes and interesting aspects to the characters that are shown in these sections.

It must be mentioned that this games main plot (for it is not all about romancing the weapon-people) revolves around stalking, there are some warnings about this when you start a new game but they are vague and I know that on certain platforms you wouldn't be able to get a refund based on these. Personally I have no issue with the use of that theme but I know that some could find it problematic. I know that the game has been updated since the time of writing to be more specific in its content warnings but I honestly can't remember how the warnings looked previously to compare.

Is it worth your time? That's down to you. However, I had fun with the game enjoying every moment. I also know I'll be returning to it later once the developers release some of the other characters that were slated to be added in.

If this appeals to you perhaps try;

Analogue: A Hate Story Huniepop

[ihearthes]

Farmers’ Market

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff Word Count: 2.8k

Summer Feeling Challenge sponsored by @helladirections

Vibrant yellows, pinks, greens, and red catch my eye as I take in the variety of fruits and veg in front of me. Wow. How is it possible to have this much beautiful fresh produce in one spot? Placing the essential ingredients for my favorite salad in a basket, I approach the counter. Having ridden a bicycle to the market, I’m fairly confident it will all fit in my knapsack for the return to my flat. 

Hearing his voice causes my entire body to freeze. Well, not completely because my heart is like a wild animal trying to break free from captivity. Regular beats, steady, but louder than my friend Steph had been at his concert in Philly. 

“Hi, I’m looking for some kale, and you don’t seem to have any,” His voice is as deep as the grooves in one of the gravel roads back home in Springfield, and the shiver that travels up my spine is a violent and silent storm. 

Shit. Had I taken the last of the kale? Maybe I can surreptitiously put it back so he doesn’t notice? Wait just a doggone minute! Why the fuck should I give up my kale? Just because he’s my favorite musician in the whole world and he’s somehow standing at the very same green-grocer’s as I am? That makes zero sense. 

A statue, I debate my options. 

Buy my produce and leave before he notices me. But then he might realize that I’ve taken the last of the kale. 

Put the kale back and choose spinach instead? My strawberry salad will taste lovely with spinach. But it truly is best with kale. 

Wait until he leaves and hope he doesn’t spy the kale in my basket? Suddenly, I’ve got the urge to pee. What if he’s here for a long time? 

Put on my sexy voice and offer to share my kale salad with him? This option causes me to smirk while my tummy resembles a popcorn popper with kernels scattering in every direction. Stepping to the counter, I quickly throw my items at the woman while he’s engaged in conversation with a different clerk. 

“That’ll be £14.35,” the woman says, and I withdraw a £20 note, quickly passing it to her, holding my breath that I can escape before he approaches. Not daring to look backwards, I squeeze my change in my fist as I rush to fit in with the crowd strolling the Parliament Hill Farmers’ Market. It’s not until I’m at the end of the stalls and near my chained bicycle that I slow down, breathe, and risk a glance behind me. 

“What did you think? He was going to chase you down and tackle you for the kale?” Steph screams at me through the phone. Naturally she had been my first call as soon as I arrived back at the flat my company had rented for the duration of this London business trip. 

“I didn’t know, Steph! It’s like sixty degrees out there, and I’m sweating like I’ve just run a marathon in ninety-degree heat.” Removing the items from my knapsack, I wash them, laying them out to dry on a towel. Using my fingers, I pull my shirt away from my chest and shake it to allow air to flow better. 

“You’re the only person I know who can meet Harry fucking Styles on her first trip to the farmers’ market! And you’re deffo the only one who would turn and run away! How did he look? What was he wearing?” Her words are BB pellets like my brothers used to shoot at cans back home. 

My words are quiet and stutter as they emerge like a new butterfly from a cocoon. “I didn’t look.”

“WAIT JUST ONE GODDAMNED MINUTE! What do you mean? How could you not look?” Her volume has increased to the level that I might need to remove my Airpods so as to not damage my ears. Then her voice lowers. “What if it wasn’t him?”

Shit. I hadn’t considered that. “No. It was definitely him. Come on. How many times have I listened to his voice?”

“Maybe it was just the British accent.”

“Steph, I’m in London. Everyone has a British accent. I’m telling you. It was him.”

My best friend sighs. “Okay. I believe you. The fact that he was right there, though, and you didn’t say or do anything…” 

“I got the hell out of there. What do you mean I didn’t do anything?”

“Maybe you’ll see him next week. Will you talk to him?”

A soft smile crosses my lips. “Nope. Come on, Steph. You and I have always had a pact that we wouldn’t bother him if we saw him in the wild, and I’m sticking with that.”

----------

“My boss and his wife are coming by tonight, so I want to put together a fruit and cheese plate.” I tell the vendor at Bath Soft Cheese. “Can you give me some suggestions?”

“Oh. I can!” A voice next to me says, and I’m a rigid piece of lumber. What are the fucking odds? Shit. 

“Thanks, Harry,” the gentleman at the table says. “I’m going to help this couple.” With that, I’m left alone. 

Carefully, I swivel my neck to make sure I’ve not lost my mind -- or the plot as my colleagues might say. But no. It’s him. Definitely him. 

I drink him in. Wearing a hoodie with his own name over the heart and a pair of shorts that are more for walking than jogging, Harry (fucking Styles!) points towards one of the cheeses sitting on the bed of ice. 

“This one is a vegetarian cheese, and it’s my sister’s favorite. Best paired with thin apple slices because they make the cheese with apple cider. So delicious.” He glances at me, and I feel faint from the deep green of his eyes. Fuck. Up close and in person, they’re brilliant. They shine (Shine! Step into the light! Shine! So bright sometimes!), and I have to blink so that I can nod. 

“Awesome. Thanks,” I move to take the cheese. 

“Oh, but this one,” he points to the next one over, “is their Bath Soft, and it’s best served with grapes.” Harry Styles, explaining cheeses like he’s an expert cheesemonger, makes me smile. “Personally, I wouldn’t serve a blue cheese to guests unless you know they like it. So many people take offense to blue cheese.”

“Right? I love blue cheese. Especially in a salad. It’s got that bite to it,” I blurt out, and then clamp my mouth shut as I realize I’ve started to relax in his presence. Which is downright stupid as I might inadvertantly disclose something incriminating. Like how many of his concerts I’ve witnessed live.

“Yes! I’ve got this great kale salad recipe with blue cheese and walnuts!” His excitement is the same as that of a puppy spotting a treat; tail practically wagging the whole backside. 

From deep in my belly I feel the giggle build up, and I fasten both hands solidly over my mouth in a pathetic (and useless) attempt to contain it. 

His joy is contagious, though, and I can’t help myself. “Does it have a balsamic vinegarette? Because I have one that’s so good I can eat it every night for a week. Oh. Never mind. That’s the recipe I have with candied pecans. Not walnuts.”

Holy shit. I’m actually standing in a farmers’ market in London discussing recipes with Harry Styles. Perhaps I’m going to pass out? Or maybe I’m hallucinating? Or dreaming? 

“Candied pecans? Sounds yummy. There’s my friend. Gotta go! You can’t go wrong with those two cheeses I mentioned! And maybe treat yourself to some blue cheese too. Just for you.” He winks with his right eye and flashes the dimple my way before he disappears.

----------

My third week in London, and I climb onto my bicycle a full two hours before the usual time I had traveled to the farmers’ market the last two weeks. My license plate should read “Determined to Dodge” because it’s freaking me out a bit that I’ve seen Harry twice in the same place. And they say lightning doesn’t strike twice. Ha! I’m making sure it doesn’t strike thrice. 

“I’ll take the plain goat’s cheese,” I instruct the vendor, and after money is exchanged, she hands it to me and I move to place it directly into my backpack. After nearly a month, I’ve got the hang of this farmers’ market shopping, it seems, and I’m pleased to have arrived with a set shopping list for the first time. 

“Yum.” Harry’s voice comes over my shoulder, and I’m startled enough to nearly drop the damn cheese. HOW IS HE HERE? “What’s your plan for that?”

“Um,” I bite my lip. “Goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini.” Feeling emboldened, my lips continue speaking as though this superstar and I are friends, “I’ve been debating the two beekeepers, but I don’t know which has the better honey.”

Today he’s wearing a pair of blue jeans that fit wide on his hips along with a peach button-down shirt and a newsboy cap. “Oh, then I think we should definitely go have a taste at each. My lady?” He holds out his crooked arm, ready for me to take it like we’re in a 1940’s movie. 

What’s even crazier is that I follow his lead and add, “Lead the way, sir.” It’s ridiculously silly. And so much fun. His playful side makes me feel charmed, less like a fan and more like an acquaintance. At the first beekeeper, we each taste the regular blossom honey. 

“Oh, that’s fantastic,” I whisper as I slide the wooden stick across my tongue. 

“Hey, you can’t give in yet. We’ve not tried the other one. We’ll be back,” he says over his shoulder to the vendor as he escorts me away. “Maybe,” he adds once we’re out of hearing, drawing a giggle from me. 

Holy shit. I’m relaxed around Harry Styles. What is happening to me? Boundaries! I need boundaries. 

“Oh, my!” I breathe as we arrive at the Local Honey Man’s booth. “There’s too many options.”

Knowingly, Harry nods. “Indeed there are. So maybe we need to back up. You’re doing plain goat cheese on what kind of crostini?”

“You mean what bread am I using? Oh, I was thinking either a thinly sliced sourdough or a baguette.”

“Mmmm...excellent choice. I can recommend some bread next. What fruit are you planning to use?”

His question makes me laugh involuntarily. The great performer and entertainer Harry Styles is asking me what fruit I want on my crostini? Why?

“Well, I’m thinking it’s that time of year for peaches or nectarines. Either of which would be amazing.��� Placing a finger to my chin, I survey him. Fuck. He looks so wonderful. Fresh. Friendly. Not at all like a celebrity. Just a normal Joe -- or Harry -- that one might meet at a farmers’ market on a Saturday morning. As I observe him, I feel myself starting to shed some of the barriers between us. He’s just like me, I think. A food connoisseur. Someone who enjoys the local atmosphere. 

“Oh yes,” he pauses, smacking his lips. “I can taste that now. Okay, so with that combination, I would recommend either the lemon zest infused honey or the British Borage Honey. Personally, I think the cinnamon honey might overpower the flavor of the goat cheese.”

“You know what? I think you’re right. My goal is for all of the local flavors to come through, so perhaps going with a non-flavored honey is the best decision. Thanks, Harry.” And then I freeze again because I know I’ve let my tongue get away with a horrible slip by saying his name. Wanting to cry, I bite my lip and turn to the vendor. With tears in my throat, I ask, “I’ll take a jar of the British Borage please.” 

The merchant wraps it quickly, handing it over in exchange for my money, and I nervously twist towards Harry, expecting his glare over my rudeness. It’s almost like he’s oblivious. As I place the jar of honey in my bag, he grabs my hand. 

“Let’s check out breads!” 

Running behind him, I’m puzzled by what had just occurred. Shouldn’t he be upset? Freaking out? Wondering if I’m a stalker?

“Here’s my recommendation,” he says as we stop at a stall with a sign reading ‘The Flour Station’. They’ve got a wonderfully tangy sourdough baguette. If you slice it thin, then layer on the goat cheese, honey, and finally the peaches, it will be a perfect meal.”

When I request the baguette, the owner nods and wraps it for me. As he hands it over, I turn to Harry and extend my hand. “Thank you for your help, kind sir. I’m confident this will be the most amazing meal.”

Staring at my hand suspiciously, he ignores it. “Nearly lunchtime,” he announces. “Any chance you’ll join me for some Indian food?” With his head, Harry gestures towards the Mumbai Mix stand. 

As I consider the implications, my head starts to move from side to side. Never meet your idols. That’s what the voice in my head whispers. 

“Please?” His eyes take on a look that is as close to begging as I’ve ever seen in any human. “Look. I’ll be honest. These days I don’t meet many fans who would go out of their way to avoid me like you do. Most want to move into my house immediately. It would be nice to extend our time a bit. After all, it’s just a meal in the middle of a crowded London farmers’ market. How scary can it be?”

Blinking, I carefully think about my response, but instead the words that escape are “You knew I was a fan? For how long? And how did you know I was avoiding you?”

“Fair questions. Place your order, and we can talk about the answers over lunch.”

Now my curiosity has been peaked. At the vendor, Harry requests the Dosa Wrap while I order the samosas, and we step to the side while they’re being prepared. 

“That first time.”

“Last week you mean?”

“No, the first time. You remember. At the green-grocer’s.”

My face likely flames red. “You saw me? You noticed me? I didn’t even so much as look at you.”

His hearty laugh makes me tingle. “Noticed you? Of course. You’re gorgeous and golden and stunning. And your American accent grabbed my attention. Why did you run?”

The giggle starts at my toes and bursts forth like a bird flying from a cage. “Um...because I’d taken the last of the kale.”

Resting his hands on his knees, Harry chuckles loudly, drawing the attention of other patrons. As the restauranteur hands over our plates, Harry carries both to a nearby table. 

“And last time? You jumped a mile when I suggested helping you with the cheeses.”

Burying my face in my hands, I groan. “Harrrrrrrryyyyy. Before I came to London for work, I made a promise to my best friend that if I saw you in the wild, I’d leave you alone. So it was quite awkward that you were the one who approached me. And holy hell! How did you know I would be here today at this time? I came early so I could shop before you arrived!”

He picks up his wrap and takes a bite, chewing carefully. Taking guidance from him, I gingerly grasp a samosa and tear into the dough, immediately savoring the potatoes and spices inside. 

“Mmmmm,” I murmur, and my tongue flicks out to rescue a bit of flavor still on my lips. 

“‘In the wild’?” he inquires, and I’m confident the blush now covers my entire body. 

“You know. Like if I saw you at a show or a public event, it would be different. Then I could fangirl and ask for an autograph or a photo or whatever. But at the market, you’re not working. You’re just like everyone else -- shopping.” 

Knowingly, he nods. “I appreciate that. Truly. Not everyone respects my private time. So thank you. But the truth is…” There’s a pause, and I nervously nibble at the samosa in my hand, worried about what he will say next. “...once I noticed you, I couldn’t ignore you.” Clearing his throat, he smiles in a friendly manner. “How did your boss enjoy the cheese and fruit plate?”

“Wonderfully,” I respond, “But not as much as I enjoyed my kale salad with blue cheese, blueberries, strawberries, and candied pecans.” A smile tilts my lips upwards, possibly exposing my own dimple. 

“I’m sure,” he murmurs, “I’d love to taste it sometime. Care to make it for me?”

“Hmmm,” I playfully consider his request. “Are you confident you’d prefer that to goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini on sourdough baguette? It’s all local.”

A/N:  Thanks for reading. Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this. 

[zoryany]

Hi! I REALLY liked that Skysolo AU where Han has to meet the royal family, if I prompt you ‘8. I know of your reputation all too well.’ could you possible continue it so he meets Vader? 🥺 (totally understand if not, great AU either way!!)

I’m glad you enjoyed it and I ABSOLUTELY can continue it with that prompt, thank you !! (I’ve definitely blurred the line between “ficlet” and full-blown fanfic at this point tbh…)Imperial Royal Skywalker Family AU Pt 1 || send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters

After they’d finished their tea, Luke was quick to excuse himself and Han, ushering his guest towards the suite he’d prepared earlier. A wave of relief rolled off Han the moment they left the parlour, and Luke couldn’t help but share the sentiment. Everyone had been civil enough for the duration, but Luke had felt the tension that lingered beneath the polite conversation. Mother and Leia were both furious with him, he could tell, and though both would maintain a proper amount of decorum in front of their guest, Luke knew exactly what he was in for once Father returned.

That was not something he was looking forward to.

As he led Han through the corridors between the parlour and the guest room, Luke tried to stay relaxed and exude as much nonchalance as possible. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I’d say you’ve won over two out of three already. Probably helps they’re both so upset with me that it’s easier for them to speak to you without snapping right now. Though I will be getting an earful later…”

“Gee, that makes me feel real great about this whole thing,” Han grumbled. Luke couldn’t help but feel sheepish at that, which Han instantly noticed and grimaced in response. “No, I just meant that – look, I’m sorry you’re in this mess, and I’m sorry if it’s ‘cause of me…”

“Hey,” Luke said sharply, “none of that. You didn’t make me leave home in the first place, and while I’ve definitely been enjoying our time together, don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re the reason I’ve stayed away this long.” Chuckling lightly at the look of offense he was getting from the smuggler, Luke continued. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s no way I would’ve stayed on Ord Mantell as long as I did if not for you, but truth be told… well I actually would’ve stayed away longer if we hadn’t met – just on some other planet.”

He could feel the curiosity burning within Han. They never really talked about why he ran away or what he was doing on Ord Mantell. That was part of the reason the two of them had gotten along, initially – no obligation to speak about their pasts, just focus on the present and the future. Even now, Han wasn’t pushing him despite his clear curiosity, but Luke couldn’t avoid his responsibilities forever.

Reaching the door to the guest room, he let out a sigh as he pushed the door open and gestured for Han to enter first. The smuggler hesitated slightly before breezing past the threshold and into the suite. It was not nearly so resplendent as the Royal Rooms, but it was still the height of luxury. Luke had been sure to select one of the smaller rooms and furnish it modestly enough so Han wouldn’t be overwhelmed, but he was all too aware of how extravagant it was. Simple yet tasteful artwork lined the walls, a large window revealed a magnificent view of Coruscant’s upper levels, and the bed that dominated the space was a plush four-poster with a dreamsilk canopy draped over it. Most of the bedding in the Palace was expensive and made of some form of soft, silk-like material, but Luke had managed to dig up a set of lighter sheets made of Alderaanian cotton that would better suit Han’s comfort level. And, sitting on top of the bed was –

“Mother…” Luke groaned as Han held up the finery and examined it. “She wants you to dress for dinner. Probably sent Threepio to set these out for you while we were distracted by tea, and I’m willing to bet my lightsaber that those will fit you perfectly. I’ll throw in my speeder and guess that I’ve got an outfit set out, too.”

“She seriously expects me to wear this?” Han was holding the dark-coloured suit as though it was made of tissue and would shred if he gripped it too tight. “I’m pretty sure the shirt alone cost more than I’ve made – or ever will make – in my entire life.”

Grimacing, Luke felt a pang of embarrassment, knowing full well that he couldn’t deny that. It was part of the reason he’d left in the first place. He’d never felt comfortable with his status, preferring instead to tinker with mechanics or get to know the people or practice flying over the city. Being a prince just never sat quite right with him. But his parents insisted on nothing short of the best for their children, and nothing quite surpassed their desire to keep the twins safe. They meant well. Luke knew they meant well. They were just… stubborn.

He wasn’t ready for that conversation with Han yet, though, so instead he just let out a breezy laugh and shook his head. “I think you’ll look dashing in it. Mother does have impeccable taste, after all. You don’t gotta put it on yet, though. We still have a bit of time before dinner. I can give you a tour, show you all the places I hid and the secrets I discovered growing up.”

***

Tugging lightly at his collar, Han shifted in his seat, hoping he didn’t appear too awkward as he tried not to stare at Luke sitting across from him. When the two had met, he never would have guessed that the scruffy blond with grease on his cheek and dirt under his fingernails could possibly be anyone even remotely noble. He looked like just about every other down-on-his-luck scoundrel just trying to scrape by, even if the kid had a lot more enthusiasm than most. But if Han thought the difference in his voice when speaking to his mother was jarring, seeing Luke dressed up and put together was staggering.

Though his hair wasn’t quite slicked down – Han wasn’t sure if that was even possible, anyways – it was obvious that Luke had at least put some effort into making it presentable, and it lay a lot smoother than usual, framing his face. A white shirt was visible beneath a black tunic, and he wore matching black trousers, all made from the same, expensive-looking material. The real highlight of the outfit, however, was the deep blue cape secured around his neck with a bright golden clasp and a silvery pattern woven throughout the material like constellations. Luke wore the night sky, which only served to make his features appear even more like a radiant sun.

Han had been mostly quiet through the meal in an effort to keep himself from saying anything overly foolish, sticking to polite acknowledgements and general courtesies. He was so caught up in maintaining decorum that he didn’t even really hear much of the conversation around him, catching only snippets here and there.

Luke looked much more at ease than Han was, and he even appeared to have relaxed since the tense tea session they’d had earlier. He was sharing lighthearted banter with his sister (who kept shooting Han suspicious glances, albeit less frequently than before) and chatting pleasantly with his mother (who seemed far warmer and more genuine than earlier). It was clear that, despite the conversations the family still needed to have, they maintained a strong bond and genuine love for one another.

(Han was decidedly not jealous of that. Not at all.)

The pleasant air in the dining room carried on into dessert, by which time even Han had relaxed a bit and would make the odd remark or share the odd barb with the Princess. They had almost finished working their way through the decadent assortment of cakes and pastries when the atmosphere suddenly shifted.

The change was most obvious in Luke, whose eyes blew wide and a shudder rippled through him as he stiffened in his seat. Gasping with a shaky breath, he lifted his gaze and fixed it on something behind Han’s chair.

“Father.” Oh. Kriff. He probably should have been able to guess that. “I, uh – you weren’t due to return home until after dinner.” It was incredible how quickly the kid’s composure could crumble, switching instantly from the picture of Imperial Royalty to the naive, stammering vagabond who could not lie to save his life.

“No, I was not.” The basso tone produced by the vocoder seemed to fill the entire room, and Han had to suppress a shudder as the towering dark form crept into his field of view like a shadow. Darth Vader loomed over Luke, who looked absolutely tiny next to him, and Han had to give the kid credit for not cowering when a gloved finger was pointed between his eyes. “I do, however, have every right to alter my schedule when matters arise concerning my son.” Luke did cringe a little bit at that. Vader wasn’t done. “My son, who I have not heard from in several weeks, who has returned home with… company.”

Han could not say he deserved the same credit as Luke as he cowered the moment that death mask turned to face him. “Ah yeah, hi, that’s me, uhh nice to meet you, Mr. Vader, sir, I’m –”

“Captain Han Solo.” His jaw dropped and he gaped at Vader as he cut him off. “Yes. I know of your reputation all too well.”

Luke’s eyes had gone wide again, and his jaw dropped down as well. Even the Princess seemed taken aback, though the Empress seemed unfazed.

“You – you know who I am?”

“I make a point to know who the Hutts choose to have dealings with.”

Oh. Kriff, he’d forgotten about Vader’s vendetta against the Hutts. “Hey, hey, I don’t go makin’ a habit of it or anything, just a few jobs for Jabba – who didn’t even like me, anyway. Put a bounty on my head when I dropped a job after realizing the cargo wasn’t spice. I don’t smuggle people. Far’s I’m concerned, the galaxy’s better off without him.”

Vader inclined his helmet slightly while keeping his gaze fixed on Han. The dark, deep crimson of the eyeplates felt like they would burn twin holes right through him. “I must admit,” Vader finally said, “that I can agree with you in that regard, at the very least.” For the briefest second, Han got the impression of amusement before the temperature in the room plummeted again and he had to work to keep his composure. “That does not, however, change the fact that you are still a criminal, nor does it excuse the rest of your misdeeds.”

“Well,” said Han, silently cursing his uncontrollable disregard for his own wellbeing, “ya got me there. But I’m a changed man, honest. I’m pretty aware of your reputation, too, and I got no interest in experiencing it firsthand.”

From across the table, he caught a glimpse of Luke’s expression, which was a confused jumble of amusement, horror, mortification, disbelief and resignation. Beside her brother, the Princess concealed a snort, passing it off as a cough. Han was pretty sure he was done for when Vader took a step forward, his arms uncrossing from his chest as he reached a hand towards him, but the Empress had fluidly risen from her seat and appeared at his side.

Resting her hands delicately on his arm, she gazed up at him with a gentle, soothing expression and whispered something that sounded like “Ani.” Her next words were clearer while still remaining gentle and placating. “Captain Solo here is Luke’s guest, and I have personally offered him our hospitality. Please refrain from terrorizing him tonight. You know how our children feel when you frighten off their company.” Luke and Leia both flushed pink and sunk in their seats.

On the surface, it was a standard family interaction, mother holding back father, father upholding authority, children doing all they could to mitigate their embarrassment, but Han could not think of anything more surreal. The mother in question was the most politically powerful person in the galaxy, dressed in resplendent garments of deep crimson as she looked lovingly up at her husband. The father was the most dangerous man in the galaxy, cutting an intimidating figure and dwarfing his wife while still, somehow, managing an unexpected level of tenderness. The children were set to inherit the galaxy, twin Highnesses -- one of whom he was involved with -- and no less dangerous than their parents.

And Han... had no idea what to do with himself.

Far more gentle than he would have ever expected possible, Vader rested a hand on his wife’s cheek and the two shared a brief embrace, seeming to exchange something entirely private and intimate. In their seats, Luke and Leia flushed deeper, and Han found himself wishing he was anywhere else. Withdrawing his hand, Vader seemed somewhat reluctant as he took a step back. 

“Very well. This is clearly not a conversation for the dinner table. I shall retreat to my study to tie up what loose ends I can while you conclude your meal. However,” Vader turned to face his son, “your mother and I have much to discuss with you, boy. Do not attempt to needlessly delay this discussion.”

Luke, who had slid about as far down in his seat as he could without falling right off, grimaced and looked up at his father with an expression of contrition. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled before stuffing a small pastry in his mouth.

Vader turned on his heel and swept out of the dining room, leaving it in a thoroughly uncomfortable silence. The Princess was resting her hand on Luke’s shoulder and giving her brother, who appeared mortified, a sympathetic look. The Empress had returned to her seat, looking nonplussed, though she had regained some measure of her former severity. 

Once again, Han shifted in his seat and avoided everyone’s gaze. He was starting to get a clearer picture of what he’d gotten himself into. Now he found himself wondering if he’d finally manage to get in over his head.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O2 - “airplane”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cursing

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it a home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 

a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but enamoured by his understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

a/n: whew! we made it to part two. thanks for sticking with me y’all. we get to see a little more banter with jimin. thank you again for reading and hopefully i’ll get the next part out on time for y’all. leave a comment with some feedback; i love receiving them. have a wonderful rest of your day/evening/night and thank you vi for being my editor in chief as always!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

You could only thank your sweet Lord and Savior for blessing you to fly on an aircraft that had some semblance of high-speed data. There was only so much one could do with the airplane monitors to keep yourself entertained - if the flight you were on had them. Skimming through your email, you stared skeptically at the most recent one from Michael. Hadn’t you just spoken this morning?

Y/N,

I assume that your meticulous planning has failed you for once in your brilliant life and you were late to catch your flight so you didn’t have time to check your phone as you would not purposely ignore a text from me. Gods be with you during this time - I have taken a moment of silence as I pray for your divinely placed gift to be restored upon you.

Onto more pressing matters, Julia has sent me an updated list of the things they expect to see in this video; please see attached. Because I have so earnestly prayed for your skills to be returned to you, I have full confidence in your ability to work through these minor inconveniences.  

Just because I know you missed my text, I’ll say it again: remember the passion! Enjoy the moment.

Yours eternally,

Michael  

P.S. Garland Sans has an exhibit coming to the MET! We must go!

You snorted. Michael was as ingenious as he was dramatic. One of the best in the management game, Michael was sought after to solve the worst of problems when regular members of his team couldn’t in his own consulting company, Callahan Consulting. His personality was infectious and made one want to strive above and beyond for his approval. It surprised you every time that you were partners and he was your manager as declared by himself. As they say, opposites really do attract.

Clicking on the files attached in the email, you groaned softly as you realized that though the wifi was available, it wasn’t strong enough to access any large multimedia files, the downloading circle on a seemingly never-ending loop. You sank further into the seat, your knees hitting the one in front of you due to the cramped economy design. Your fingers slipped easily through your short locks as you tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you couldn’t see what changes you’d made. It’s not like you’d have to potentially rework your entire itinerary for the trip the moment you landed. You scrunched your eyes shut as you tugged on the roots of your hair in an effort to quiet your increasing anxiety. The softest of touches against your knee jerked you upright.

“Are you alright?” You gazed down at the hand splayed across your leg, eyes wide. It squeezed and you finally turned your eyes towards its owner.

“What are you doing?” you asked hurriedly, tugging your headphones off. The weight of his hand, though not physically heavy, metaphysically felt like it was anchoring you to your seat and you wouldn’t be able to move it yourself even if you tried.

“Are you alright?” stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment repeated. “You looked like you were in pain,” he trailed off, finally removing his hand. You slumped over in relief on your exhale.

“Fine,” you replied curtly. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you shifted in your seat. His long legs seemed precariously too close to your own in the compact space.

“Are you sure? I can call an attendant -”

“No!”

“What are you doing?” he murmured, eyebrows raised and amused. Looking like any stubby child hanging off of the monkey bars, you were clutching onto his forearm and yanking down with all your might to stop him from pushing the call attendant button above you. The muscles under his forearm flexed as stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment lowered his arm against the armrest. You blinked slowly as the realization that you were still holding onto him traveled to your central nervous system and you let go as quickly as you’d clung onto him.

“Nothing!” you inhaled deeply. “Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t need to call anyone,” you told him sternly. You turned back to your laptop and opened your 0618 Bali Itinerary document; adjusting your plans would calm the thumping in your chest. You could handle the anxiety of trying to edit the document blindly, but handling his apparent concern over your physical well-being was another story you weren’t prepared to read. He hummed in acknowledgment and settled back down in his seat, eyes focused on the book in his hand. How he managed to fit in any seat was a miracle.

“What are you doing in Bali?” he asked casually. He didn’t look at you as you turned to him.

“Nosy aren’t we?” you  replied in the same tone, eyes challenging. Your eyes met, a glimmer in his.

“Hmm?”

“How did you know I was going to Bali?” you contested.

“Well, I would hope you didn’t board the wrong flight - though you don’t strike me as the woman to make that kind of mistake,” a soft smirk graced his lips. You bit your lip hard.

“Well, I could have been getting off at the Hong Kong connection,” you said, trying to counter.

‘True, but you confirmed that you were going to Bali when you asked how I knew that. I was just assuming before,” he replied with a shrug and a soft grin. You tongued your cheek in annoyance at his observation.

“Right,” you mumbled. You yanked your headphones back over your ears, cutting off the ability to continue the conversation for both your sakes. Only 13 hours and 25 minutes to go.

Your Fujifilm camera felt light in your hands as you recorded a few minutes of the passing clouds. Capturing the changes in the sun during the duration of the flight seemed like a simple task, but balancing the light and adjusting the colors so they came through as vibrant as what they really were was difficult. These would be the first shots seen and they had to evoke the right feeling - the passion that Michael and Julia were looking for. Your passion for your work, for your art, for your life. You stifled your groan, not wanting to cause panic in your concerned neighbor again. You frowned as you stared down at the short video you’d taken; the focus wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be. Turning to the interior of the plane, you held the camera back up to your eye trying to get it to focus.

“If you wanted me to be your muse, all you had to do was ask,” he said with a chuckle. “I won’t even charge you for taking the shot.” The corners of your mouth turned down further.

“You’re not my muse. I’m trying to refocus my camera. You just so happen to be in the way,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I seem to always be getting in the way huh?” He leaned further back in his seat as he turned his head towards me, the sunlight hitting his face so gently. You bit your lip and fiddled with the AF fine-tune again. “First it was your seat, now with your shot. What are you going to do with me?” he asked with a fake sigh of contriteness. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics and took another test shot, the corner of his face creeping into the frame.

“Absolutely nothing,” you told him, adjusting the calibration once again. He moved closer as you snapped another test shot. His olive skin glowed under the mellow rays of the afternoon sun filtering in and his smile filled the small screen of your camera.

“Would you like some help?” he offered as he noticed the slight tremble in your fingers.

“I don’t need your help,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “You’re adjusting your AF fine-tune, but you’re in the wrong AF mode. Any adjustments you make wouldn’t have a significant effect if you’re shooting the inside of the plane.”

Stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment slipped your camera out of your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, and flipped modes quite expertly as the blood rushed up your neck and into your face. The sounds of your breathing echoed in your ears as you could not believe you’d made a fool of myself in front of him for the fourth time now. Michael must have been right when he said your previous abilities had left, the stress of this upcoming project getting the better of you. It had to be.

“Are you a photographer?” you asked. He took his own test shots, double-checking his adjustments.

“Here and there,” he replied nonchalantly. “I have a few friends in the industry and I dabble in a little bit of art myself. A hobby really,” he continued, snapping his last one of you before handing the camera back. You nodded your thanks and tucked the camera back into its bag; your nerves were too shot to continue. You could probably edit the footage to be better anyway.

“Excuse me, are you Park Jimin?” An attendant appeared with a tiny cart filled with food, her petite frame barely visible from behind it. Jimin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Here’s your vegetarian lunch, sir. Please enjoy,” she told him as she set the tray down in front of him. Her reach was far more extended than it needed to be and you internally scoffed at her not so subtle attempt to flirt. He smiled and thanked her before turning his attention to the steaming plastic bowl in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a vegetarian,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think about pegging often?” Jimin’s smile was innocent but his gaze was not. Your eyes widened comically slow as you realized what he was suggesting.

“No! Not at all! What are you talking about?! I would never -” you spluttered out, hands waving frantically in front of you “- I mean, if you’re into that, then that’s great. I’m not judging you at all!” His laugh cut off your backtracked rambling. It was boisterous and loud and filled up the entire space between us as he tipped his head back, clearly delighted by your discomfort. It hurt your ears but made your heart jump. “Please stop laughing at me, Jimin.”

He hummed an “okay” and filled his mouth with another large bite of what you assumed to be vegetarian lasagna. Your  eyes fell to his plump lips as you watched him, his jaw moving almost rhythmically as you counted each chew to ground yourself into the present moment. 7, before he swallowed. It was only the tiny flicker of his tongue against his bottom lip that reminded you that you were staring at him. Again. You busied myself with the in-flight monitor screen, extremely fascinated by the current flight path.

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” You raised your eyebrows at his question.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said with a smile.

“Why not?” Your smile widened as you felt like you finally had the upper hand, something that he seemed to continuously have.

“Why should I?”

“Well, you know what my name is. I think it’s only fair that I have yours as well. What else would be appropriate to call you other than your name?” He asked thoughtfully as he pointed his fork towards you, the mischievous glint never really leaving his deep brown eyes.

“Are you going to stab me with your fork if I don't tell you?” He lowered it sheepishly. “Besides, you didn’t tell me your name, Mr. Park. That nice flight attendant did,” you said with a shrug. “So technically, fairness isn’t a part of this equation. The odds just so happened to be in my favor.”

“‘May the odds ever be in your favor’, my ass. Alright, fine.” Jimin peered around your seat, leaning over into your space while nearly knocking his food off its tray, trying to find any semblance of a clue to what your name could be. He sat back and directly faced you, almost folding his body underneath the tray table to do so. You ignored the way his knee bumped against the outside of your thigh.

“Give me a hint,” he pouted. You giggled as his lower lip jutted out.

“You’re too big to use the puppy dog face against anyone,” you informed him with a laugh. Even if it was cute. You hauled your beanie off your head and wrenched your hands through your hair.

“Just call me Clifford,” he teased. He perked up, an imaginary lightbulb going off in his head. “Elizabeth! Is that your name?”

“No,” His shoulders slumped. “But it could have an ‘a’ in it,” you commented casually. His shoulders rallied at the small hint.

“Don’t worry Shutterfly, I’m going to figure it out. Promise.” He beamed at you and you offered a half-smile in return, your attention more focused on the attendants bringing the rest of the food to passengers as you pondered over his words. Promises were made to be broken, filling you with disappointment and regret. In fact, they only served as false assists in the game of life and you’d stopped playing a very long time ago.

The cabin became pleasantly quiet after dinner was served, the passengers settling down for the night. It was cold and you were grateful for the hoodie you’d folded into your bag, the thin airplane blanket not doing much to keep you warm. Your Saipan video was pulled up on your laptop again and you longed to be in the warmth of the beach. Adele would always know when you’d been out in the sun for too long, more freckles dancing their way across your cheeks as your tell-tale sign, but it never stopped you. You smiled at the memories of busted knees and skinned elbows from being too adventurous with friends during the summer.

Nursing your cold cup of coffee, you sighed in exasperation as you felt the strong urge to use the bathroom. Of course, it would only be fair that your favorite drink was also a diuretic. You chewed your lip as you contemplated how exactly you were going to make it out of your seat without disturbing Jimin who was comfortably sleeping beside you, his arms folded and face hidden in the confines of his hood. He looked peaceful and you felt guilty for even thinking about waking him up. If you went to sleep now, maybe you could hold it? You squirmed in your seat as your bladder protested profusely at the thought. It was now or never.

“Jimin,” you whispered and gently poked his arm. Nothing. “Jimin,” you whispered a little louder, leaning closer to his face. You whimpered softly as he didn’t stir. “Fuck this,” you muttered and pushed off the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Peeking over to the passengers behind you to make sure they were asleep, you carefully maneuvered your laptop into your seat before standing up. Jimin had titled his seat back to get more comfortable and you assumed to give himself more room - though again, you didn’t believe there was any space that could fit his long legs; they still touched the seat in front of him. Bracing yourself between the rows in front and behind you, you placed one leg in between the gap of his two and held your breath. So far so good. You twisted to face him so you could slot your second leg into the gap, bending over his sleeping frame. It was nerve-wracking to be this close to him in such a tight space and you prayed to your Lord and Savior that he wouldn’t wake up now as you’d gotten so far into your poorly concocted plan.

Just as you were slipping your left leg over and into the aisle, Jimin shifted beneath you. You froze. The strings of your hoodie dangled treacherously close to his nose. You pleaded silently that he wouldn’t wake up as you scrunched your eyes shut.

“Shutterfly?” The sound of his deep voice caused you to look down. “What are you doing? If you wanted to sit in my lap, all you had to do was ask,” he murmured as he removed his headphones and sat up straighter. Of course, he couldn’t hear you.

“I have to pee and you weren’t waking up, so,” you trailed off, ignoring his flirtatious comment again. He gave you a lazy smile that barely reached his sleep-heavy eyes. The distance between you was much shorter and you focused on keeping your breathing as even as possible.

“Hmm, you should go pee then,” he replied as he let his hand rest gently on your hip, nudging you into the aisle. You squeaked and darted from under his touch, hitting your knee on the armrest. You grumbled a string of curses and rubbed your knee as you headed to the back of the cabin, his quiet chuckles fading behind you.

The relief was imminent and you sighed in contentment as you washed your hands in the tiny sink. Under the dim fluorescent lighting, your skin looked washed out. Your eyes and cheeks were puffy from the high altitude and you tried to rub the tiredness away. You knew you should get some sleep, but the thought of accidentally cuddling into Jimin’s soft, warm body as you slept was so tempting, it was terrifying. You sighed in annoyance as you thought about your fellow passenger. He would be the bane of your existence with his deep sleepy voice and soft touches and stupid nickname.

You shut the door with enough force that you grimaced at the loud noise. It wasn’t as if you could shut all your thoughts of Jimin into that pint-sized restroom as you’d attempted to do with Tiago those many summers ago. You scowled at his memory as you angrily walked back to your seat, the pain in your knee forgotten. You tapped Elijah harshly on his shoulder but softened your gaze after realizing you’d startled him.

“Sorry, I’m in your way again.”  He stepped out into the aisle to let you through, the subtle waft of his cologne moving with him.

“No, you’re fine,” you told him as you slipped into your seat and rested your laptop onto your open tray table.

“You think I’m fine?” you rolled your eyes at his dumb grin.

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Your entire demeanor!” you exclaimed. He hushed you and warned you to keep your voice down as people were sleeping. “Your body language, your tone, your eyes. All of it - all of you,” you finished, gesturing to his body.

“And here I was thinking you weren’t interested,” he said with the same smile. He propped his chin up in his palm as he gazed at you through his long lashes. You scoffed.

“No one is interested in you, Jimin.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you say my name.” You covered your mouth to stop the burst of laughter in your chest. He chuckled quietly and returned to his seat. “You don’t have to lie to me though, Shutterfly.”

“Delusional and dramatic. That’s quite the combination you have going for yourself, Mr. Park,” I commented as you searched for your additional Saipan clips.

“As delusional and dramatic as you are uninteresting and not flustered by me,” he shot back playfully and you struggled to keep the corners of your mouth from turning up as you kept your focus on the screen. “How long does it take you to do that though?”

“Do what?” you asked.

“Edit your videos,” he clarified, closing the distance between you again. It was becoming increasingly obvious that personal space did not matter to him.

“Oh. It depends on the project and how much material I have to work with. Sometimes I can knock out a video in a couple of hours, but other times I get stuck for inspiration or I can’t figure out this one technical aspect and it stumps me for days before I can finally move on,” you said slowing down as you realized you were rambling. “Sorry, that was a lot,” you apologized.

“No, I get what you mean. The purpose of projects will definitely define what type of style you go for. I’ve been in those spaces. No need to apologize, seriously.” Jimin rested his hand on your forearm in a comforting manner and you smiled softly at the gesture.

“Is that a genuine smile I see?” He shoved his head in front of your face trying to get a better look.

“Way to ruin the mood,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head away gently.

“Wow, I think it is,” he continued. “Your freckles are beautiful by the way. And don’t worry about the mood, darling. I can create another one for you.” Jimin winked at you and placed a headphone in his ear.

“You’re a fool,” you informed him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“A fool in love!” he sang. “Don’t stay up too late. Gotta reset your circadian rhythm before we get to Bali,” Jimin warned. You shook your head at his concern; if only sleep was so easy. Even so, it was only 2 am back in New York. Plenty of time to nap and be up by your usual 4 am wake up time.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Shutterfly.”

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

© joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[danganronpa-21]

Naegiri Week Day 7: Investigate

Awwww... it’s the last day of Naegiri Week already. I have to say, I’m going to miss writing about Naegiri every day. Posting work that so many of you have interacted with is ridiculously fun, but... also quite tiring. So here’s my last prompt for Naegiri Week 2019. And look, guys! I finished all seven days this year!

Before I let you read though, I want to give special thanks to everyone who’s been supporting myself and other creators for this week. Seeing other people reblog our content, so many of them filled with that sweet tag commentary, it brightens up everyone’s days! So thank you for that!

And thank you to Eon of @naegiriweek for organizing! I know it was harder to do on your own this year, and I really appreciate all of the work you put into managing everything. Thank you very much for what you’ve done -- you were spectacular! 

Alright. I think that’s all I have to say for now. I hope you enjoy Day 7: Investigate.

______________

Christmas Eve traditionally tended to be a bad time to ask Kyoko for help. 

“It’s a challenging day of the year for me,” She had told him a few days prior, her tone not at all mimicking the nature of her words, “So I prefer not to be bothered much throughout its duration.”

When Makoto had inquired as to why, she pushed past it. Something sharp and snappy was said, but it went ignored. They’d been friends for long enough for him to know when he was supposed to take certain things to heart. So conversation-wise, they left it at that. They left it knowing that Kyoko found Christmas Eve to be a tough day of the year, and that Makoto shouldn’t bother her too much because of it. Pretty simple stuff. 

But even if that was the conclusion that was drawn, that certainly wouldn’t stop Makoto from doing what he could to cheer her up. One could always assume that there were a few certainties in life: One, death. Two, life. Three, Makoto Naegi being physically unable to avoid doing nice things for friends that were feeling down. So naturally, the luckster picked up the slack. He’d been oh so proud of himself at the time; so glad to have found a way to help Kyoko feel better during such a rough time of year.

Really, the only problem was that the slack he’d picked up had gone horribly missing. 

“Where could they be…?” He groaned to himself, shuffling through just about everything in his bedroom. He’d already torn apart his desk and the top of his dresser trying to figure out where he placed it, and so far had come up with nothing. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case for the surface of his bedside table as he turned towards it, expecting more than what it would give. “Of all the times to lose something…!”

With one fell swoop, he pushed all of the books off of his bedside table. Probably not the best idea if he intended to keep his present in tact, but he thought that it could maybe be a good way of revealing the contents of its surface. The issue was that only books and personal hygiene products hit the ground, spilling papers and deodorant all over his bedroom floor. No signs of the little box he’d wrapped Kyoko’s gift in. 

“Of course. Of course it’s not here!” He griped to himself; his arms thrown into the air dramatically. A low grumble escaped his throat as he glared at the table, cursing it for not being the hiding spot of Kyoko’s present. “God… where could it be…?”

Pushing a hand through his hair, Makoto decided to take a couple of steps back. Perhaps if he surveyed the room for a minute or two, the box would make itself seen. He just had to make sure he was keeping an eye out for the right things. A little box covered in pink wrapping paper; tied nicely with a silky white bow. It shouldn’t be so hard to find. It wasn’t like Makoto had a lot of shiny pink things in his bedroom. 

His eyes scanned the room once more. As he looked around the room, he swore he could feel the weight of his worry on his shoulders. Christmas Eve in Japan was… well, it was one of the most romantic nights of the year. And even despite her hardships with the time, Kyoko had agreed to go out with him for this one night. He planned to take her somewhere nice, and give her a gift, so maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so sad. Whether she chose to interpret his actions as a flirtatious gesture was up to her. He would accept things no matter how they came. All he wanted was for her to feel loved. In order to do that, though, they would need to fulfill his other want: finding that box.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Of all times to get there! The knocking on his front door was unmistakable. Of course Kyoko would be there early. Normally she was the kind of person who didn’t really think of other people’s time; it all but showed in her tendency to be late to class. Almost every other time he’d asked her to hang out were another piece of evidence to the case. Of course just this once, when she needed to be tardy, she wasn’t. His hands curled into fists at the frustration of hearing the door open, and the sound of his mother’s voice greeting Kyoko.

“Hi Kirigiri-san!” He heard the older woman’s silvery voice chirp, “It’s good to see you again. Makoto’s just upstairs getting ready. I can go get him for you, if you like.”

Makoto sighed. At least he could be comforted by the fact that his mother had finally learned that Kyoko wasn’t a talker. The first time she’d come to visit the house, she’d bombarded her with all kinds of questions about herself. When Kyoko dodged practically every single one, his mother worried that the girl disliked her. Which, in turn, led to her son explaining to her that Kyoko was shy and reticent. Fortunately, that had been enough to get her to stop pushing the next time the two of them were in the same room.

“Actually, Mrs. Naegi, I wondered if I might speak to Naegi-kun myself. I have something I need to ask him before we leave.” 

He froze when he caught those words. Oh god, what was he going to tell her about his bedroom? He planned for her gift to be a surprise. He’d need to come up with some sort of excuse for the mess of papers and knick-knacks strewn across the hardwood floors. 

“Sure thing! His bedroom’s just up there, first door on your right.” 

Makoto didn’t hear Kyoko say thank you, but he assumed she probably nodded it. Her choosing to be quiet around his mother seemed more likely that him choosing to be impolite. Dread built in his stomach as he listened to her footsteps as they pounded against the staircase hard and strong as she made her way up. Likely on account of her high-heeled boots; she seemed to pair them with every outfit. Even for a winter’s night, he noted. Which was absolutely the wrong thing to note, given that his room was a mess and he had no excuse as to why. He supposed it was at least something  that made her entrance more dramatic, as she swung into the doorway of his bedroom. Her brows were raised in surprise almost immediately. 

The first and only thing he thought to do when she caught sight of him was grin sheepishly, offering a tiny wave. “H-Hey, Kirigiri-san.”

The detective’s face screamed confusion; her head tilting as she rushed to comprehend the information she was taking in. Her brows were furrowed together slightly, and he could see her pursing her lips. 

“Did a bomb go off in here?”

Kind of rude, he thought, but pushed the thought away. He forced himself to laugh instead, but he could tell it did little to convince Kyoko that what she said something humorous. “N-No, I just…” He paused, scrambling for a last minute excuse, “I was looking for something.”

Pathetic and also truthful. Jeez, he hadn’t realized that he was such a bad liar. Maybe he needed to get Celestia to coach him sometime.

Kyoko’s expression remained dubious; still scrutinizing the details of his bedroom rather than the details of his face. “... Right.” 

“Actually… Kirigiri-san, do you think you could help me?” He asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I really need to find it before we go out.”

She folded her arms across her chest; he couldn’t help but notice how she puffed it up proudly at being asked. She wasn’t kidding about taking pride in her work, no matter how small the job. “What am I investigating?” 

Blood flowed to Makoto’s face at the question. Well, now that she’d seen the room, he imagined he would have to tell her what she was looking for. Sure, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, but hopefully it was still possible for her to enjoy the gift anyway. 

His inner self-reassurance didn’t stop him from scratching at his cheek, though. “You see, the other day, when you told me that you don’t feel so great on Christmas Eve, I got to thinking… I know this time of year is hard for you, and I don’t really know what for. So I decided I would make you a little Christmas gift. You know, to help you feel better.” 

Kyoko nodded in recognition, but showed no semblance of happiness. Typical. She could be bouncing for joy underneath that iron mask of hers, and he wouldn’t have a clue. 

“I see…” A hand flew to her chin; her usual signal that she was diving into deep thought. “And I imagine you misplaced my gift?”

His shoulders slumped a little at the confession. “Unfortunately.”

“Well, I suppose now I have to help you find it, don’t I?” She sighed, striding into the room with a complete and total disregard for the floor clutter. This would prove to be her downfall, for she nearly got taken out by the stick of deodorant that had been swept to the floor. It was a stroke of good luck that allowed Makoto to catch her elbow and steady her. 

“If you’d still like it. What I thought we might do together tonight wasn’t anything time sensitive. We can afford to spend a few minutes looking around for your present.”

Letting out a small sigh, Kyoko steadied herself. Her gaze failed to meet Makoto’s as she studied the room; the gears in her mind already turning. With the way she acted, one might almost have believed that he hadn’t heard what he said. “What does the gift look like?”

“It’s small, and pink-”

“How small?”

“About… uh…” Makoto straightened out his hands and made the distance; he kept them about a shoebox-length apart. “This big.”

She nodded. “And you said it was pink?”

“Yes. A shiny pink. I tied it up with a white bow.”

For the first time that night, Kyoko laughed. A relatively small one, but still a laugh. She covered her mouth in an attempt to hide it, but he could still see it. He almost thought it to be the first he’d seen her laugh all day. Did his diligence with presents humour her? He hoped she knew that he always took gift-giving seriously. The birthday party they’d thrown for Mukuro and Junko at school earlier that day should have clued her into that. 

“Of course you did,” She sighed, “You are the kind of person to do that.”

He struggled to understand whether or not he should be offended“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She waved it off, choosing to step further into the room. “Just one more thing I can discern simply by examining you for more than three seconds.”

Makoto bristled slightly; unafraid to pout at the comment. Once again she was teasing him for being so open. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she liked that about him, or if she found it annoying. He could only hope that this time it was meant to be complementary; he did intend to be subtly romantic with her that night, after all. It wouldn’t exactly bode well for him if she thought him to be an overt fool. 

He huffed half-exasperatedly. “Do you need any other clues to search? Like where I saw it last?”

She shrugged, closing one of her eyes as she searched the room. What that did, he couldn’t help but wonder. “Was it here that you last saw it?”

He nodded. Wrapping her gift was the last thing he’d done before bed. He remembered the whole thing so meticulously: placing the gift on the sheet of wrapping paper, measuring out the exact dimensions of the box, placing the tape on each individual corner. He found he could even recall the tying of the bow, and how he redid it a few times to make it perfect. Then, he’d placed it down somewhere for the next day. The same place where he’d put the presents he wrapped for Mukuro and Junko’s birthday. But when he returned home after a long day at their school party, Kyoko’s box was no longer there. And he knew he didn’t take it and give it to one of the twins by accident.

“Who else has been in this bedroom lately?” She inquired, her expression slowly but surely falling flat once again. “Is there anyone who comes in when you’re not here?”

“Not… usually, no. Most of the time it’s just me. Sometimes my mom if she needs a couple extra pieces of clothing for a load of her laundry…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Other than that, no real regulars…”

“I see.”

A brief silence fell between them, but not for more than a few seconds. Instantly, a memory popped into his mind. One that he’d forgotten amongst all of the Christmas and birthday bustle.

“Oh, wait! Dad was in here last night. He asked if he could hide his gift for Mom in my room. They’re supposed to be going out on a date later tonight, and he didn’t want her to find it before he could give it to her.” 

Kyoko snapped her fingers, but it didn’t register in his ears. On account of it just be leather rubbing together, he predicted. He wondered if she ever missed the click ungloved hands made. “Where did he hide his gift for your mother?”

Makoto gestured towards his closet. “Top shelf. Where that box of old action figures is.” 

She laughed softly once again, strutting over to the closet. She pulled the doors open with ease, starting her search without wasting a lick of time. “Bit of an action figures kid, were you?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah,” He admitted, “I had a really big superhero phase when I was a kid. I collected all kinds of figures. Unfortunately, I can’t bear to part with them quite yet, even though I’m almost eighteen.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” She assured him, “I'll admit that I still have some of the dolls from my youth. Also, a bit of a side note really, but I think I found out the answer to your mystery.”

His ears perked up at the second phrase. Man, was she fast. Her Super High School Level Detective title was no joke. “Really? You did?”

She nodded. “Simple case of misplacement. Your father wrapped his gift in the same wrapping paper as you.” She pulled the gift down from the shelf to prove her point, the shiny paper glittering at both of them, “He probably thought that you’d taken his out for him, and he brought it along with him. You do kind things like that so often; it’s likely he wouldn’t have thought twice.” 

“That makes sense,” He laughed slightly, “Dad’s usually dragging me into his gifts for Mom. He can trust me not to blab like Komaru will.”

Kyoko chuckled softly, holding the present out to him. “Well, if it’s a logical conclusion, then you’d better go exchange the gift before your father goes out on that date. Judging by the weight of this box, I’d say he probably got her something as valuable as a necklace. We would not want him to panic over a switch like that, given how expensive Christmas Eve jewellery tends to be.”

Makoto accepted the package from her gratefully. “He did get her a necklace; he told me so. Green zircon pendant, I think. He said something about it reminding him of her eyes.”

“It would match her eyes well, yes.”

He blinked, taken aback by the observation. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

She shrugged. “They’re the same colour as yours.”

Nothing about how noticing things as a detective was in her nature. Just the simple statement that he and his mother shared the same eyes. Such a tiny comment, yet Makoto felt his heart skip a beat. He hoped she couldn’t see him start to blush at her comment. 

“Y-Yeah…” He paused for a minute, staring at the box in his hand.

“Well don’t just stand there. Go give it to him.” She urged, “I’ll be waiting in the foyer when you get back. We mustn’t take any longer getting to this amazing sight you wanted me to see.” 

A soft smile began to curve across his face. God, if he hadn’t liked her before, he really liked her now. 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kirigiri-san.”

She winked. “It’s a detective’s job to investigate.”

___________________

“Wow…”

Deciding which was twinkling more was a challenge — Makoto found himself severely caught between Kyoko’s eyes or the city lights. The sight didn’t allow him to fight off his smile as he leaned into her, his tone full of amusement. “Well, what did I tell you?” 

Her gaze fixed itself forward on the view. She didn’t seem prepared to look at him… but that was fine. He liked looking at her. “It’s… beautiful. Just as much as you said.”

“I knew you would like it.”

“I imagine I would have a harder time not liking it. The city is absolutely radiant from up here.”

So are you, Makoto desired to say, but he kept his lips sealed. Comments like that would be too forward, and he knew they both weren’t ready for that yet. They were still just two friends, having a nice night. Watching each other’s faces among the gleaming city lights. 

He didn’t quite catch what drew her back from the otherworldliness of the view. From one minute to the next, it seemed like she slowly slipped out of its hypnotism, turning to him with a smile on her face. Something he hadn’t expected to see, after how scantly she’d laughed that day.

“So am I allowed to open this gift of yours now?” She shook the package at him excitedly. He could see in her expression how much more relaxed she was now; her smile being a relatively lazy one.

“Of course. Rip into it.”

She wasted no time tearing into the wrapping paper like a small child, but not before she undid the bow and gently placed it aside. Makoto couldn’t help but remark to himself how cute it was that she had so much consideration for the aesthetics and maintenance of the bow. Just another one of her charming quirks, he supposed. 

Kyoko finished off the wrapping paper easily; practically the moment she tore into it. As soon as the wrapping paper had been torn from the box, the detective’s next challenge was sliding her finger underneath an edge to pry it open. Fortunately she was able to do so with little struggle, reaching into it. A small tray sat inside, and when Kyoko pinched it between her fingers and pulled it out… She revealed a gift of chocolates.

“Naegi-kun… did you make these?” Her voice was wrought with disbelief; her eyes wide.

He nodded. “I did. You know, there’s actually a lot of research that suggests that chocolate makes you happier. So I thought, what’s better this time of year than some homemade chocolates? Plus… a-admittedly, Asahina-san sort of told me about your secret fixation on chocolate.”

She shook her head. “Betrayed by my confidant,” She said mockingly, staring off into the distance as if she were in a detective noir, “How harrowing.”

There was no use in him fighting off his laugh; he chose to embrace it. Despite her tendency to be stoic, she always could crack a good joke. “Do you want to try one?”

“Undoubtedly.” She plucked one from the tray and popped it into her mouth. Within an instant, her eyebrows raised. She chewed for a few seconds, only to stop suddenly. He hoped that meant something good. She confirmed his hopes by starting to suck on the chocolate; her intent to make it last longer clear as day.

Nervously, he leaned in closer to her. “Do you… like it?”

“I love it.” She replied, her answer deeply muffled by the chocolate on her tongue. “This is… some of the best chocolate I’ve ever had. It’s… wonderful.”

He felt himself start to blush at her words. He’d never really been quite so sure of his dessert-making skills, so having the reassurance was comforting. “I’m glad.”

Before she had even finished sucking on the first one, he watched her pop another one of the tray and into her mouth. “Naegi-kun, honestly, this is amazing…”

He swatted the comment away, taking on a ‘you flatter me’ gesture. “Oh, it’s no problem.”

“No, it is. You were under no obligation to do any of this for me, but you did it anyway. All because I told you I found Christmas Eve challenging. Taking me here, and giving me this… it’s amazing. Naegi-kun, you’re amazing.”

You’re amazing. 

Makoto felt his heart skip its beat once again. Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell her that she was radiant. But she was ready to tell him that he was amazing. And that was enough.

“So are you, Kirigiri-chan.”

[thesevenseraphs]

Bungie Weekly Update - 11/21/19

This week at Bungie, we’re investing in solar energy. We wrapped up Festival of the Lost this week, but cleaning up the decorations wasn’t the only thing that changed in the Tower. Ikora finished her construction project, closed out all the permits, and Guardians launched an attack on the Undying Mind.

The attack is ongoing and all Season Pass holders can join in on Vex Offensive and transmat the finished portal from the Tower to summon and defeat Undying Minds from different timelines. 

The impact of your victory has not been made clear just yet, but in time, you will learn more about how this will further evolve the world as we transition into the next Season. 

SOLAR SHIFTS

Next Season, we are shaking up the Solar subclasses. We are reworking several ability trees and the Destiny Dev Team has the details on what to expect when you praise the Sun next season.

Destiny Dev Team: Hey Guardians, it’s the Combat Systems team here, back again to talk about some updates we’re making to the abilities sandbox in the next Season. Previously we spent a Season focusing on subclasses of one specific element type such as Arc and Void. Up next, the Combat Systems team is tackling Solar subclasses as our focus for gameplay updates.

As we’ve mentioned in past TWABs, our goal with these subclass updates is to “revisit some older subclass paths and freshen them up a bit.” In execution, this means that older subclass paths will feel like viable choices in many of our activities and that players can find a home in any of them. When we started working on sandbox updates to follow Season of the Undying, our team looked at the whole catalog of Solar subclasses by cross referencing data, feedback, and conversation to figure out which subclasses needed help, which are performing fine, and which ones were a bit too potent. During our investigations, it was pretty clear that three specific subclasses were underperforming and needed to be taken back into the shop for a rework.

It’s worth noting here that a rework doesn’t mean it’s a completely new subclass. It means that we took the root of the gameplay fantasies for those subclasses and either expanded on what was already there or shifted some of the existing attributes closer to their fantasy. In some cases, entire perks were changed to help further the gameplay role and fantasy of those subclasses.

Those three Solar subclasses are:

GUNSLINGER: WAY OF THE SHARPSHOOTER (BOTTOM PATH)

Traditionally, Way of the Sharpshooter has mostly been used in specific PvE activities and almost exclusively paired with the Celestial Nighthawk helm. We wanted to move Way of the Sharpshooter to be something players want to choose more often and for a wider range of activities. To do that we needed to differentiate both Golden Gun paths and make Sharpshooter more versatile and interesting to use in PvE. In order to differentiate the 3-shot and 6-shot Golden Gun and better play into their fantasies, we've made the following changes:

For 3-shot we increased the auto-aim distance and reliability when aiming down sights, as it fulfills the role of long range accuracy. For 6-shot, we shortened the damage falloff range to emphasize the short range gunfighter role with a lot of kill potential. While it can still perform at longer ranges, it may take an extra shot to get the job done. We've made other changes to Way of the Outlaw to help keep its potency like adding a new Explosive Prox Knife that can stick to surfaces and detonate when enemies pass nearby. 

All up - we want Way of the Sharpshooter to feel more active and rewarding for players who can fulfill the role of the sharpshooter by taking down enemies with accuracy and precision.

NEW Weighted Knife: High-damage knife throw with a long wind up. Travels at high speeds, bounces once, and does extra damage to the head. Precision shot final blows recharge the melee completely. One-hit precision final blow in PvP.

Practice Makes Perfect: (QoL):  Lasts longer but gives a bit less energy per second. Precision hits grant two stacks.

NEW Knock 'em Down: Precision final blows increase weapon stability and ADS speed. Timer starts at 10 seconds but any additional final blow/assists can increase it up to 25 seconds. Casting your Super with this buff above 20 seconds consumes the buff and grants extra damage. (Does not stack with Celestial Nighthawk).

Line 'em Up: (QoL): Old perks from Crowd Pleaser are now part of this perk. (Golden Gun can cause precision damage and precision shots generate orbs of light).

SUNBREAKER: CODE OF THE DEVASTATOR (MIDDLE PATH)

Titans who adhere to the Code of the Devastator want nothing more than to crush their foes with smoldering hammers, and we want to see them live their dreams. When our data indicated that this subclass was underperforming in PvP, we decided to make a few changes that should enable it to be more competitive. The Roaring Flame perk has received a significant buff to its bonus damage, and the buff now lasts 25% longer, making it easier to build and retain stacks between encounters. The base damage of Throwing Hammer melee ability has increased—it's now very lethal in PvP while you have Roaring Flames active. In addition, once you've thrown the hammer and it’s lying on the ground, you don't have to get quite as close to it to pick it back up. Finally, we tuned the Super in a number of ways. 

For starters, Burning Maul now lasts longer, giving you more time to use it strategically instead of simply spamming the slam button. (Titans. All we want to do is smash, right?) We also increased the height of the heavy-slam explosion, so this Super should feel much more potent against airborne enemies. That's the gist of it, but here are more details:

Throwing Hammer: Increased impact damage from 100 to 120 and increased hammer pick-up radius from 2m to 3.5m. Adjusted hammer throw animations to fit a more damaging attack.

Roaring Flames: Increased damage bonus from 10% per stack to 25% per stack in PvP, and increased duration from 15 seconds to 20 seconds.

Burning Maul: Increased duration from 21.2 seconds to 28.5 seconds

Light Attack: Reduced light attack energy cost from 5% to 3%. Adjusted the animation so that it flows seamlessly into chained light attacks without stopping.

Heavy Attack: Ground Slam attack now detonates when it detects enemies above it. Detonation radius was increased to make landing attacks more consistent. Increased energy cost from 6% to 8%

DAWNBLADE: ATTUNEMENT OF SKY (TOP PATH)

With Attunement of Sky we wanted to push its air superiority gameplay further. When we initially released this path, its movement capabilities were tuned around the original Destiny 2 gameplay experience, which was much slower and more deliberate about positioning. However, over time, this movement needed to adapt to the new sandbox. We want to give you the gameplay experience that the fantasy begs for: A flying angel who can maneuver with grace and destroy its foes below. 

Now before we get started I wanted to touch on one thing: To accomplish our goals of reworking the air superiority role, we needed to differentiate the two Daybreak paths from one another. As such, we reduced the speed at which Burst Glide accelerates players in Daybreak. We know this is a controversial change but we wanted to reserve the air superiority gameplay with Attunement of Sky and the Burst Glide speed was blurring the lines between both Daybreak paths.

Icarus Dashes while in Daybreak have increased speed and thrust to recapture the burst glide gameplay for those running the air superiority path. We hope that, while this change is different, you still feel as fast as before—but with maybe a bit more expression behind that speed. The rest of the changes are below:

NEW Celestial Fire (Melee): Send a spiral of three explosive Solar projectiles. Heat Rises: (Rework) Consume your grenade to extend Glide time and dramatically reduce the in-air accuracy penalties for weapons.

Winged Sun (Rework): Fire weapons, use Celestial Fire, and throw grenade while gliding. Airborne final blows grant melee energy and extend the duration of Heat Rises.

Icarus Dash (Rework): Tap (Crouch) twice to dodge in midair. Dodging in Daybreak accelerates players farther and costs less Super energy while under the effects of Heat Rises.Added note: Due to the nature of these reworks, Wings of Sacred Dawn received a buff where it gains 15% damage resistance while Tome of Dawn is active.

There are a whole swath of changes we’re working on that extend beyond these three subclasses. Most Solar subclasses had some tuning and some non-Solar subclasses got a bit QoL love too. We hope that with these changes, you’ll feel energized playing any Solar subclass—regardless of activity. Thanks for having us!

FINAL HOWL

Next week, Lord Saladin will return to the Tower for the final time during Season of Undying. This will be your final shot at earning pinnacle rewards from Iron Banner until next Season. If you haven’t finished up your Season Pursuit, make sure to do it before the end of the event on December 3.

Iron Banner Control

Starts: 9:00 a.m. PT on November 26

Ends: 9:00 a.m. PT on December 3

We’ll be featuring a reprised armor set next season, so if you still want to get some pieces from this set, grab them quick! Saladin is also offering enhanced mods and other items in exchange for Iron Banner tokens you may have collected. You can turn them in now or bank them for when Iron Banner returns next Season.

GAMING AND GIVING

We’re completely blown away by the generosity you all showed throughout the Game2Give fundraising campaign in support of the Bungie Foundation’s iPads for Kids Program and of Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals.

In just three weeks, you all raised $1,673,857.62! We reached this incredible amount of funding because of the 40,000+ donors and 5,500 streamers who supported the campaign across 104 countries. To say this was a true global Guardian initiative is an understatement!

For the Bungie Foundation, this will give us the capacity to expand into up to five new hospitals in 2020 and help over 250,000 more patients than we ever have before! We are so excited to continue our work of replacing fear with joy, boredom with entertainment, and uncertainty with a sense of normalcy for so many more kiddos.And check out how this funding will help the work that Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals does every day.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for showing us once again how truly special the Bungie Community is through caring about each other and those in need.

WANNA COOK?

For those looking to add more Destiny books to their collection, we are very happy to announce

Destiny: The Official Cookbook and Destiny Grimoire Anthology Vol. Three

are coming in 2020.

Destiny: The Official Cookbook In collaboration with Insight Editions and author Victoria Rosenthal, Destiny’s first official cookbook is filled with recipes inspired by the characters and locations seen throughout its expansive universe.

Destiny Grimoire Anthology Vol. Three

Destiny Grimoire Anthology Vol. Three is coming in late 2020 as the next edition of the popular Grimoire series.

These titles will be available at the Bungie Store and other booksellers. Stay tuned for more details. Be sure to visit the Bungie Store product pages linked above and click “Email When Available” to be among the first to know when the books are open for pre-order.

TIP OF THE SPEAR

Stay up to date on the latest from the Player Support team.  

This is their report.

DESTINY 2 ON STADIAThis week, Destiny 2: The Collection launched on Google Stadia. Players who are looking to get set up with Stadia for the very first time should make sure they visit our Stadia Guide.

Furthermore, existing Destiny 2 players who wish to bring their characters over from other platforms can do so right now through our Cross Save page. As a refresher; Cross Save allows players to access their preferred set of Guardians, gear, and Season Passes on all (Stadia details below) platforms. New players who are starting their Destiny 2 journey with Stadia can also enable Cross Save, so the Guardians they build and gear they earn travels with them to other platforms. However, players should know that Season Pass access granted on Stadia through Destiny 2: The Collection does not transfer to other platforms using Cross Save.

Destiny 2: The Collection on Stadia includes a Season Pass access at no additional charge. Players who have Cross Save enabled with their Stadia account who would like to access Seasonal content on other platforms (PlayStation, Xbox, and Steam) will need to purchase those Season Passes directly on one of those platforms.

As a final reminder, expansion licenses (Forsaken, Shadowkeep) do not transfer between platforms with Cross Save. Players who wish to access activities which rely on these expansion licenses will need to purchase them for every desired platform.

PC MIGRATION AND FORSAKEN LICENSES

Since Destiny 2 launched on Steam last month, we’ve monitored posts from players who have provided feedback and reported issues regarding the PC Migration experience.

After thorough investigation, we believe that we have resolved an issue which was preventing a subset of PC players from transferring their Forsaken licenses from their Battle.net accounts to Steam. Players who previously encountered this issue should re-initiate migration at our PC Move page.

Destiny 2 Known Issues

Listed below are emergent issues being investigated in Destiny 2.

The MIDA Multi-Tool catalyst will not drop for players who win a competitive Crucible match at the Legend rank if they are playing with clan mates and the "Catalyst Seeker" clan rank bonus is active. To mitigate this, we recommend that players seeking the catalyst play solo or team up with friends who are not in the same clan.

Black Armory Keys cannot be used or deleted if the Mysterious Box quest has already been completed.

Some players may experience an issue where blank items from Festival of the Lost are taking up slots at their Postmaster.

For the latest list of emergent issues, players should visit our Known Issues thread. Players who observe other issues should report them to the #Help forum.

[jawnjendes]

no one can replace me | shawn mendes

university au SUMMER, shawn x goth gf/oc

masterlist | playlist

**let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

Days off were meant for sleeping in and being comfortably lazy. I slept until 2PM, far later than I ever slept before, and I felt anything but comfortable. The only productive thing I did was move myself from the bed to the couch in the living room, taking the massive comforter with me. Shawn wasn't home, so I was able to binge as much Grey's Anatomy in order to fill the void in my chest as I could. I really thought I would be able to sleep off the void…

I was lying on my side, a dead look on my face, but I was still invested in a particularly emotional episode. As sad as it was to see Jo Karev's life fall to pieces, it felt almost cathartic to cry over that than my own crap. I cried a lot these days, it was very unlike me. However, I still made sure to keep it private. I didn't want my boyfriend worrying about me anymore than he already did.

It was after 5 o’clock when I heard the lock on the front door jiggle, indicating that Shawn was home. I quickly grabbed the remote and switched to some 90s cartoon. The swift movement of reaching for the remote on the table was a deep contrast compared to how I’ve been all day, so it left me winded and fatigued. Although, the fatigue wasn’t just from moving or the cuts on my belly. I couldn’t even sit up to greet my boyfriend.

Shawn seemed unfazed by my potato state as his footsteps were constant through the apartment. His steps got closer, and I saw him standing by me from my peripherals. Wordlessly, Shawn placed a black gift back on the coffee table, directly in front of my line of vision.

The bag was shiny, and had purple tissue paper sticking out of the top. Just the sight of it caused my brows to knit together.

“Why…?” I asked, my voice unnaturally soft.

“It’s a peace offering,” Shawn explained, “and it’s also an anniversary gift. Come on, sit up.”

I didn’t need the help anymore, but Shawn still went to my side and supported my waist as I sat up straight. Then, I leaned over and grabbed the gift bag, pulling out the tissue. Inside was a red box with the white Nintendo Switch logo on. I pulled it out and discovered a pro controller, and my mouth fell open. This was the limited edition, white controller with the Princess Zelda design. I was rendered speechless.

“We hit six months a couple of weeks ago,” Shawn explained. “I think you were in surgery, so we missed it. And I know you love Zelda, and I know you’ve mentioned this controller before.”

“How many oversized bears did you have to fight to get this?” I finally asked.

Shawn laughed. “Well, it was the last one at EB Games. I saw one guy looking at it when I walked in, so I snatched it when he wasn’t looking.”

A small smile creeped up on my face as I stared at the controller in wonder. It was a sweet gesture, given the absolute bullshit that happened yesterday. “Thank you. I can’t wait to use it.” Then I placed the box back on the table. “I have something for you too.”

“You do?” Shawn smiled, pleasantly surprised.

I nodded and got up from the couch. I felt bad about how our sixth month was spent, even if it was all out of our control. Obviously, there was no time to get him a gift like what he had gotten me, but I did have something in mind. I didn’t think we would still be here for this to happen.

I found my black, tattered wallet and went back out to the living room. As cliche and cheesy as it was, I had to say a few words before presenting the thing. “I’m not gonna lie, my pessimistic ass and my mile high walls made me think we wouldn’t make it this far.”

“Good start,” Shawn replied, mildly amused.

“But,” I continued, “I’m glad I was proved wrong, so uh…” I unzipped my wallet and poked around through one of the credit card pockets.

“You’re giving me money?”

“Shut up.”

It took a minute to get the tiny item out of the tight pocket, but I got it. I presented Shawn with a red guitar pick. The label on it had scratched off long ago, but that’s okay. It wasn’t about the condition of the pick.

“A long time ago, I saw Rise Against in concert,” I told him. “It was… honestly, probably one of the happiest days of my life. I went with my cousin, and she convinced me to mosh our way to the barriers. We did, and I got hit in the face on the way, but we made it to the front. I had a nosebleed, and the lead singer noticed that. He actually saw blood all over my face, and he gave me his pick.” I paused. “That pick means a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, so I figured I should put those two things together.”

Shawn was looking at the pick in the palm of his hand as he listened to my story. The smile on his face only grew with every word, and he was beaming when he finally met my eyes. Then, he stood up, towering over me with open arms.

“I love it, and I love you.” He gently cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss.

Feeling his lips against mine brought back certain feelings I hadn’t felt in a hot minute. My arms went around his middle, gently scrunching up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the skin underneath. Shawn smiled against my lips.

“Mm, so we’re celebrating our anniversary today?” I asked when we broke apart.

“I guess we are,” he replied, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. “What do you wanna do?”

“Quiet night in?” I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows.

He thought about it. “Well… we spend a lot of time between these walls. How about a movie?”

That threw me off a little bit. Shawn never said no to spending the night together between the sheets. But he was right though, we needed to get out of this apartment. “Yeah, we can do a movie.”

~

As much of a homebody as I am, it felt nice to leave the apartment for a little bit. It felt good to doll myself up for a date night. I missed carving out my eyebrows and wearing black eyeshadow. I missed wearing my long, black cardigan and combat boots.

Shawn and I went to the theatre downtown and caught the newest Disney film, on his choosing. That was only because the last time we went to the movies, I made the choice. The last time we went to the movies was also when I started feeling pain, but I didn’t want to bring that up.

I stayed away from literally every food offered at the theatre, and not just because of my mandatory diet. Shawn didn’t eat anything either, so I wasn’t alone. That gave us more time to cuddle on the fancy reclining seats in the theatre. It was pretty much what we would do at home, except we were bound by society’s rules to stay quiet for the duration of the movie.

It was a lovely time. Going to the movies was the one thing to get us out of our heads for a little bit. We didn’t have to talk, we could just be with each other. The mood was light and sweet, and it followed us back into the car.

But, you know… light and dark. Things are always balanced.

Shawn turned on the radio as soon as he roared the car to life. Of course, of fucking course, the Halsey song of my nightmares (as opposed to Nightmare, which is a bop) was in the middle of playing. Things within me turned in a second, and everything lost its color. Half of me wanted to punch the radio into silence, and the other half wanted me to curl up in a ball and let the void take me away. Luca’s words came out of the tiny box in my mind and circled around me.

“I probably know you better than Shawn does. And you hate that, huh?”

My breathing went short again, and I could only hear that directly in my ears. I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to bring myself back to Earth.

“You’re not singing,” Shawn pointed out. “I thought you loved this song.”

I wanted to talk, wanted to explain. But we just had a good evening, and I didn’t want to cry all over it. When did I become such an emotional mess?

I shook my head in response.

He glanced at me every so often, but he kept his eyes on the road. “No, you don’t like this song?” he asked.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Okay, I’ll change it.”

The song stopped, and then Shawn reached for my hand. My mood kept on. My legs felt numb, and my hands felt tingly and weird. I walked carefully when we got back to the apartment, like I was going to dismember myself and collapse. I followed Shawn’s steps, bringing all the grey with me.

“I know you’re a quiet person,” he said as we entered the bedroom, “but this is just weird. Are you okay?”

This would be something I’d take up with Callie, but I was no longer her patient. That was on my own doing, so I couldn’t be mad. There were a lot of feelings built up in my chest, and I couldn’t name a majority of them. That was why I needed Callie.

I also needed to bring my spirit back into my body. Without thinking, I slammed the palm of my hand on the bedroom door. The loud smack! startled Shawn, but the sting caused me to make a face and ground me once again.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I felt like I was floating…”

He was just as speechless. “Uh… do you - should I…?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I told him, my eyes still staring off into space. “I mean, I do, but… I don’t.”

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“No?”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, let’s start there.”

We sat at the foot of the bed. Shawn gave me an expectant look, but I was still silent for a moment. Perhaps I was just overreacting and being a little too dramatic.

“I had a conversation with Luca,” I started, suddenly hesitant. “Nothing bad, just… I don’t know.”

“What did he do?” Shawn asked. “I know you said not to worry, but I’m a little worried.”

I explained the inexplicably off putting conversation I had with Luca, rubbing my hands together sporadically. It was probably confusing without know our entire history, but that was a whole other spiel. They say talking it out helps, but I just felt like I was getting crazier by the second. I felt like I was just overreacting.

“Listen,” Shawn said when I finished rambling, “I don’t love that he knows you so well either. I definitely don’t love what most of your relationship consisted of. But you’ve known each other for a couple of years, much longer than you and I have known each other. He’s just trying to get to you.”

“I know. He loves to challenge me. Normally, I don’t care, and I’m used to it, but this one fucked me up.”

Shawn nodded. “Is that why you slept most of the day?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“I can tell when you’re sleep deprived now. Like, you wear a lot of black, but you look… comfortable and at peace with it. When you're tired, or sad... you look like the world ended."

He held his hand open on my lap, and I laced our fingers together. Was this a weird situation? Was it weird to talk about your ex to your current person?

“Can I tell you something?” Shawn asked after a minute.

“Yeah.” I had to stop myself from sounding too eager. At this point, I’d give anything to not talk about me and my shit anymore. I think I was thinking too hard about this whole thing.

He shifted a little bit, the way one does when they’re about to drop some scalding tea. “When I was seventeen, I dated this girl. Well, I thought I was dating her. She asked me to be her boyfriend, but the only time we spent together was in the backseat of her car, or at her house when her parents weren’t home. She really didn’t want much from me, apart from the obvious.”

“She was playing you,” I replied.

“And I one hundred percent knew it,” Shawn added with a chuckle. “But I really liked her, so I let her do what she wanted. I guess you could say that’s one reason why I was never in a serious, stable relationship until now. It’s like you say, I couldn’t trust anyone.”

That was certainly a side of Shawn I hadn’t heard of. He told me he didn’t have much experience with his love life. Then, I found out he slept around much like I did. Now, I found out he had his own version of Luca. Why was I labeled the mysterious one?

“How come you never told me this before?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “We all have things we don’t talk about. I’m sure there’s still things you haven’t told me.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s true.”

“So just know, you’re not the only one with a toxic ex. I know how you feel.”

At least he doesn’t work with his ex. At least his anxiety wasn’t intensified to the point of isolation and self destruction. Plus, it was easier for Shawn to open up than it was for me. His heart was in the right place, though. His big, warm heart made my stone cold one beat a little faster, I knew that much.

"You know how powerless you are being with someone like that," I said without realizing what I was doing.

"Yeah," he said. "You know they're not good for you, they only want you at their convenience, but you'd do anything for them."

Oof, he really does know.

"But," he added, "it feels so much better when you're finally free of them. And it feels fucking great to be in a much better place than they are. Realizing you deserve better is like waking up from a bad dream."

"It's like coming up for fresh air."

Shawn looked at me, eyes sparkling. He now held my hand in both of his. "Meeting you was like coming up for fresh air."

I smiled, and placed my one free hand over his. "I know that quote is from Grey's, you can't fool me."

"Hey, can I not relate heavily to the words of Derek Shepherd?" he said with a laugh.

He wasn't wrong. I related a lot of lyrics from his own songs, but I could tell him that another time.

_____

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @mendesromano @ilsolee @1-800-khalid-mendussy 

[serbarris]

“You two should stick together,” Josephine suggested, “that way you can stop each other from possibly saying something too… impertinent.”

Vaimah and Faralen glanced at each other with dread. They really didn’t want to do as Josephine suggested, the pair had barely spoken in the weeks following their argument, however, neither of them play The Game, the intricate routine for Orlesians as foreign to the two elves as Rivaini architecture.

But they stuck out their lessons, learning the histories of Orlesian nobles, dance routines and human etiquette. The pair spoke of little more than what was necessary in preparing for the Ball, the topic too tense and personal to try to tackle before such a critical event. Despite this, they bonded over the struggle to learn the human culture, the deep bows, gentle curtseys and polite conversation. They gained a rapport reminiscent of what they had just a month ago, but even that was nothing to their relationship before the Conclave.

The night was more intense than anyone would have suspected, preventing an assassination attempt had turned into a political fist-fight and Vaimah having the power to choose who reigns over Orlais. Afterwards Vaimah stood on the balcony overlooking the palace gardens hoping for a moment's peace after such an eventful evening.

“Inquisitor, sorry, I didn’t realise you were here.” Faralen said as she turned back into the ballroom, her dress catching the light and sparkling like the stars in the sky.

“Ambassador, please, stay.” Faralen approached him, keeping her distance at the balcony’s edge, noting Vaimah’s almost begging tone, and she’s reminded of Vaimah before the accident, the Vaimah who never wished to be alone in times of crisis, instead preferring company to reassure him of his decisions.

The weight of their history bared down on them, they both felt a shift tonight, one where they were less formal and tense around each other. No longer trying to tiptoe around the argument they had, but trying to move past it.

As she gazed down at the palace gardens Faralen finally plucked up the courage to speak, her eyes locked on a feature in the distance while her fingers toy with a nearby flower. “This isn’t working.” She states, Vaimah’s eyes drifting to her face, confusion present on his features, but Faralen continues before he can speak. “It’s been months of me trying to teach you your own past, holding out hope that one will jog your memory, but absolutely bugger all’s happened so far, nothings working.”

The flower lay in tatters below Faralen’s fingers, Vaimah ached to reach out and grab her hand, he knew he shouldn’t, the situation they’re in is complicated enough without either party acting on any other feelings they might possess. Vaimah forgetting nearly the whole duration of their friendship put a deep strain on an already tense situation. They both stood there for a while, neither looking directly at the other, their attention focussed ahead. Vaimah knew it would have taken a lot of courage for Faralen to approach him like this. He might not have remembered his full past, but he has learnt a lot about how the ten-years-older- Faralen acts in the past few months. She’s more guarded than before, she acts more like her 17 year old self when they can talk about the misadventures the two, along with Eilan and Tamlen, had when Vaimah had joined their clan. Around Vaimah- the Vaimah Faralen remembers from those adventures, the young twenty year old who had little to worry about, her words are much more measured and thought out than when she speaks to anyone else, even in her role as Dalish Ambassador. She struggles to see the young personality in the older body of the man who had stood by her side for over a decade, through hell and high-water. The man she loved. Vaimah knew she only opened up to people she feels fully comfortable with and as Eilan and Tamlen has passed, the only person she had left was himself.

“I miss you.” The words were barely audible as they came out of Faralen’s mouth. Vaimah starts to feel awkward, since Faralen had begun speaking he’d said not a word, his mouth was dry and unsure of what to say in such a moment of honesty.

After a moments pause Vaimah finally plucked up the courage to say something, anything, in response. ““I’m sorry, I haven’t been the best student, I’m sorry I can’t remember anything, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Faralen finally looked at him, properly looked at him. Probably for the first time in months she realised the Vaimah she once knew was still there, behind the new scars and bravado of the Inquisitor, she knew it.

“Also, I know you said I was the more diplomatic of the two of us back in the clan, but you were in your element today.” He bumped his arm against Faralen’s shoulder in jest, “I think you even cracked a real smile earlier.”

“Hey, I smile sometimes.” She replied, turning her head to try to hide the smile that graced her lips, while returning the bump to Vaimah’s shoulder.

“Not enough, and I feel awful if I’m the cause of that. I mean you obviously have a lot more going on than just worrying about me but-.”

“No, you’re right, it is because of you,” the sides of Vaimah’s mouth pulled downwards at the confirmation. “But it’s not your fault, you can’t help it.” Her hand moved to cover his reassuringly, squeezing just for a moment before she caught herself and removed her hand quickly, bringing it to wrap around herself, as the night air had started to chill her barely covered arms.

“Thanks, Rae.”

The pair stood in amicable silence for a while, both glad that the situation was somewhat solved between them, it would make their jobs easier to do. A cool breeze passed by and Faralen shivered, her Dalish influenced ball gown doing little to keep her warm. She was began to regret not joining some of the other members of the Inquisition in wearing more practical and - more importantly – warm, clothing. The song from the ballroom started to die down, they both knew now would be the best time to return from the balcony without causing a disturbance during the next song, but neither began to move, both content to stay, even when the music started up once more.

“Would you like to dance Ambassador? It’ll warm you up.”

[originalsurfmorocco]

Visit Morocco: What you need to know before you go (Part 2)

Communication

It is important to brush up your language skills and get accustomed to the languages spoken in Morocco. Of course, the universal English language is being spoken, other languages spoken are Arabic, Berber, and French. It would be very smart to learn some key phrases in all of these languages. Try to learn as much as you can, and keep practicing till it becomes almost natural. Because when you move around the city, markets and all other places where English is not spoken fluently, you will need to switch to another language to pass your message across.

You can also choose to install a language app or a translator on your personal device, to help support your communication skills. Here are a couple of basic Arabic words:

Assalamu alaihkun (Peace be upon you): This is generally used to begin any conversation, like an Arabic form of saying “Hello”.

Choukran (Thank you)

La Choukran (No thank you): This particular word is useful for turning down offers from market sellers imposing their wares on you.

Balak (Watch out): When you are shopping in the Medinas or Souks (Markets), you would need to be very watchful and aware of yourself. Just like the rowdy market you are used to in your country, the ones in Morocco are rowdier. With every stranger trying to sell their products to you, the market can become really confusing. But the moment you hear the phrase “Balak”, that should alert you to move to the side and stay away from the main roads. This phrase is mostly used by locals using a cart, wagon or motorcycle.

Other Arabic phrases include:

Bslama (goodbye)

m’n fadlek (excuse me)

ayeh(yes)

’afak(please)

b’ch’hal (how much)

It is also important to note the various areas and what specific dialect is significant to that region, this will help you decide the proper replies to questions.

Health and Safety Precautions

Everyone reacts differently to change in location, weather and living conditions. As a traveler, you should anticipate certain health issues, and the best way to deal with that is by prevention. The National Travel Health Network has information on all travel destination vaccinations and can help you put together a list of your own. It is best to visit your healthcare provider so that you can inform him of your plan to visit Morocco. That way you can learn extra safety precautions to take.

You might want to stick to bottled water during your visit to Morocco, and as regards to food, you might need some Imodium. It is very natural to react to the different kinds of food that will be served to you during your stay, and you can use Imodium to reduce the effect. Another good idea is to register for travel insurance and be sure to get a policy that covers medical issues completely. Make sure to read up all the information about it, especially the duration of time it covers.

You could opt in for an in-house doctor, which most hotels these days have. Although they might be a little pricey, what’s a fun vacation without good health? Compile your health inventory before or immediately you get into Morocco, you will be able to find pharmacies in the big cities or in the villages, just be sure to have everything you need to prevent health issues.

Another activity you should be very cautious of is getting a henna tattoo. These beautiful and attractive designs, done on the hands and feet are not entirely safe for everyone. PPD chemical is contained by some of these henna mixtures, which causes allergies with some people. This is why you need to be sensitized on safety precaution measures, what to do and what not to do as regards your health, so you can have a very wonderful time in Morocco. Click here to read more

[geminimoonbeamx]

I knew you were trouble: Part One

A/N: So I’m trying to figure out a way to realistically incorporate all of these characters lol. There’s going to be times when you don’t like them; because let’s be real, they did grow up in this pretty shifty world.

Also, I’m trying to find my bearings writing Carter and ughhhh, he’s hard lol

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck. Underage drinking.

Summary: Y/N Bass had always liked to think of herself as different- but when it comes to Carter Baizen she gets played just like the rest. Between a life changing mistake and the trials of first heartbreak, she has so much growing up to do, she wonders how she can possibly be expected to raise a child without it being just as fucked up as she is.

You don’t know why you choosing to go to Caroline’s party is such a big fucking deal.

But it is.

You receive shit from it on all ends. Adrian tries, weakly and in vain, to convince you that you should at least make an appearance at Blair’s to which you shrug and tell him “Nah, it’s the principle of the situation- fuck her”

And he groans and throws himself back on his bed because he knew you- knew just how stubborn you were.

When Saturday night rolls around, you stand in your vast closet, your body sucked into lacy shapewear that smooth’s over your rolls nd leaves your middle cinched in. You cant decide what exactly to wear and you gnaw on your lip as you toss clothes haphazardly in your wake. When your phone chirps from its place on the counter of one of your shoe racks, you’re expecting it to be Mika(who’s late, and who’s hair you were supposed to do). You grimace as you take in the caller I.D.

Mother fu-

“Hi Chuck” You force yourself to answer it.

“Cousin” Is all he gives you in greeting “Please tell me you’ve reevaluated your life choices and are coming to Blair’s tonight”

You’d always found the way he talked equally as annoying as it was interesting. That pretentious jerk.

“My life choices don’t need reevaluating, thanks. And no- I’m not going to that party so fuck off” You inform him, only half paying attention. You phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder as you fingered through the racks of clothes.

“Y/N” The way he says your name is serious, as though you’d committed a real crime and it makes you bark out a laugh.

“Charles” You reply, deepening your voice to tease him right back. There were a lot of people who didn’t have the balls to jest with your cousin, to proke and prod at him- you weren’t one of them. You listen to his almost convincing lulls, rolling you eyes more then once in the duration of the conversation. Blah, Blah, Bass’ stick together in social situations. Blair’s my girlfriend and she’s expecting you there, blah, blah.

“Welp, looks like you’re all just going to have to miss my presence tonight”

“You’re really skipping this to go to a Baizens party. I cant believe you” The way he spits out the name Baizen- the vehement hate is almost scary. You knew he hated Carter, if only because of the brief tryst he’d had with Blair, but jeeze. This was intense. See? Men are just as petty an jealous and grudge holding as anyone.

“Caroline’s nice”

“You don’t even know her”

“I do! She wrote a few papers for me last year. I graduated because of her”

He scoffs “You’re one of the smartest people I know, if you hadn’t been so god damn lazy last year you wouldn’t have needed people to do your homework for you”

You couldn’t argue that, so you didn’t.

“What ever. Fuck off, I’m still not going” You say instead, as you decide on a body con green skirt. You can hear the jingle of your door being opened and then Mika hollering

“Honey, I’m home”

“I’m taking this as a personal act of betrayal” Chuck digresses and it sets you off into another bout of laughter.

“You are such a drama queen, shut up”

Mika walks into your closet and you hold up a finger, silently telling her to wait a second.

‘Who is it?’ She mouths.

'Chuck’ You mouth back and she just grins and nods and makes her way out of the closet and into your apartment, as though she owns the place. as though she was a permenant resident. Which she pretty much was.

There’s a bit more of a argument, a back and forth like there always is between the two of you, before he can tell that you’re dead serious. He tells you to have fun with your new family, his voice voice not malicious though- and then that he’d save you a drink just incase you came to your senses.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Have fun tonight, loser. Be safe”

“You too”

And then there was the click of him hanging up. You know it didn’t seem affectionate, but it was. It was the way that you two had always communicated with eachother, you’re on personal language of sorts.

You find Mika sitting cross legged on your bed, a bong as big as her torso in her lap as she takes long drags from it. “Help me with my hair before I just decide to shave my head” She says around coughs as she offers you the bong, your own bong, as a token and you laugh and tell her to meet you in your bathroom. What would she do without you.

You’d always lived your life a little more then casually late, so its no surprise that you and your friends are over an hour late to Carolines party. Adrian, ever the snarker, says she’s lucky that you guys had decided to show at all. That earns him a hard elbow to the side from you. The hotel that she was throwing it in was nice, extravagant, and you’re struck once more by just how loaded the Baizens were. Old money, ancient money. And lots of it.

“Oh this is so sad” comes Mika’s quiet mutter as you enter the event room- it was decorated impeccably. Gorgeous and modern, the only lighting coming from pretty strings of fairy lights and neon fixtures set up around the room…but even in the dim lighting, you could see that there were no more then twenty people scattered around the large room.

“This shit is more then sad- this is tragic. It’s so dead in here, it looks like the hospital that guy wakes up in in 28 days later” Adrian whispers, his eyes wide with genuine shock at the state of this party.

Poor Caroline…

You’re just about to suggest you guys find the bar, and start to drain it when the girl herself comes up to you.

“Y/N” She sounds so happy, so astonished that you were actually there that you had to fight your face from turning into a frown. You don’t want her to think you’re pitying her. “Oh my gosh, you came!”

“Yeah, I RSVP’d last week” You reach over to give her a short hug “This place looks amazing! You have to give me the number to your decorator!”

Even Adrian, who does have a heart by the way, forces himself to smile and be cheery when the girl greets him. He doesn’t hug though- Adrian’s very picky on who he makes body contact and even though he’s trying to be nice, the most Carolines going to get is a pat on the shoulder. Mika’s still high as a kite from earlier and throws her arms around the younger girl overbearingly.

“Happy Birthday!” She cheers with a dopey grin.

“Oh, it um- isn’t my birthday” Caroline corrects her and Mika’s eyebrows pinch.

“Really? Then why is there a cake?” Mika points out as though it explained every in asked question in the universe.

“Let them eat cake, Meeks” You say cheekily and she gives you a sideways crook of her eye. She’s more then aware of your obsession with Marie Antionette. You’d always felt a spiritual connection to her, you explain. You also could put a country in debt with your shopping habits.

“Wise words to live by” Carter Baizen never made an easy entrance. Something about his…fucking being just tended to make his mere presence impactful. Big. Noticeable.

Well that and the fact that he was drop dead fucking gorgeous. You cant deny that. Even though you think he’s a piece of trash.

You give him a small, forced smile in response.

Of course he notices. He knows he’s not your favorite person- he remembered you having to help bail Nate out of that whole gambling thing he’d roped the younger man into…and he’d stolen from your brother…

No matter.

That didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t be friends, right?

For the rest of the night he seems to make that his personal mission; if only to get back at Chuck somehow in his mind.

You won’t have it though. Yes, you’d come for Caroline. You’d come to be a decent person, to have a clear conscious. But that was it. This wasn’t some white flag being waved. The Bass’ and Baizens had never gotten along and you were there to change that.

Especially not after what he had done to Nate.

You were only human, and of course you not only heard, but partook in the gossip that ran among the maze of socialites over the years. You knew knew enough about him to want to keep him at arms length.

He was goregous, but he was pure trouble. And you were trying to be different.

So, even though Carter attempted to make small talk, offered you and your friends drinks, and acted like a funny, charming human being- you were far from convinced.

You let the conversation pass to Mika and Adrian, well mostly Adrian who was flirting with him openly.

You didn’t think Carter swung that way, but you also didn’t think Adrian cared. He was one hell of a flirt.

You’d been to better parties before, forsure, but this one wasn’t the worst you’d ever attended. You frequented luncheons for Christ sakes. At least this one wasn’t filled with snooty tooty old people who were just dying to kill your buzz.

Which was fluctuating pretty steadily. You’d been dancing, with a constant drink in your hand since a few hours ago. You’d had four vodka crans when you decided you needed to step outside, get a deep breath of fresh air to center yourself. You let your friends know as you slide past them. Adrian’s twerking on Caroline and Mikas doing something that looks similar to the hula.

The air is crisp and just on the right side of cool when you step out into one of the balconies. You inhale deeply and try to sort through your tipsy mind. Everything feels good, as you stare out at the lights you feel weightless. Even the ever present pinch of your heels is on the back burner.

And then…you feel eyes. The same cat like gaze you’d caught on you various times throughout the night.

“You’re a real creep, you know?” You state as you turn around and half glare at the culprit.

Carter just gives that devilish, crooked grin of his.

“I’ve been called worse” he shrugs as he joins you at the ledge your leaning on.

Hah, you bet.

“You feeling okay? I just came to check on you” at that you give him a disbelieving look.

Whatever.

Your eyes, so expressive and clear, portray what your thinking and it just makes him grin harder.

“Thanks” you don’t sound very thankful though.

“You hate me, right?” Carter wonders bluntly, figuring he might as well put it all out there on the table. He’s had a few drinks himself.

“No, Carter. I don’t hate you” he’s only pleasantly surprised for a second before you continue “I literally don’t have any energy to spend on you. That’s how little you mean to me”

Well damn.

He hadn’t been expecting that one.

You don’t even look at him as your ice cold words hit him, no, you just stare at the skyline. And he stares at the side of your face. At the way the shadows play tricks with your eyelashes.

“Well, no matter how you feel about me, I appreciate you coming tonight. I really do” Carter coughs before he starts , he felt the need to thank you. Even though he wondered why exactly you had come.

You just nod “I know what it’s like to have assholes in your family- it’s not fair to get the backlash for that” you mutter.

His eyes, peircing and gray, make you want to squirm. The intensity in them is palpable.

“Stop staring at me, Baizen” you tell him, shooting him a sideways look and in retrospect, he thinks that’s the exact moment he realized he wanted to know you better.

“So tell me about yourself, little Bass. It’s been a while”

You fight the urge to gag dramatically.

“Nothing to tell really”

“You graduated last year, right?”

“Yup”

“You’ve been up to anything interesting since?”

“Nope”

He can’t help but get a little frustrated. You’re really shutting him down, not even subtly. Carter didn’t respond well to being shrugged off.

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“You always this difficult?”

“Yup” you pop the p, put give him a small, amused smile.

You then sigh, maybe it was the drinks, but that little but of disappointment in his face breaks you “I um- took over my moms cosmetic company”

Carter nods and chews on that, trying to figure out how to tread lightly with this topic “Yeah, I heard she passed last year, her and your uncle…my condolences”

You just give him a hollow “thanks” before quickly changing the subject, wanting to get as far away from discussions of dead mothers and family curses as you could.

That night you learned Carter had spend months living in Youth Hostels; from Egypt to Greece and everywhere in between. You’d learned that he’d helped build huts in villages and paraglided in Brazil. You discovered that the two of you shared a morbid, yet almost dorky sense of humor and that maybe, just maybe you didn’t understand why everyone seemed to hate him so much. You’d stayed out on that balcony with him for what felt like hours, until Mika came looking for you claiming that

“Adrian took one too many jäger shots, time to bounce before he gets really sick. You know him, his puking would probably end up all over Twitter again”

You’d detached yourself from the conversation, said your goodbyes and walked away. Thinking that was the end of it.

As you felt that gaze on your back, you should have known that it was just the beginning.

As you sit in bed later that night, the dawn on the horizon outside your window you scroll through your phone. Mika’s asleep on her stomach on one side of you, and Adrian’s arm is slung across your waist and his head pillowed on your breast, on the other. A usaul position for the three of you at the end of a wild night.

When you opened up your Instagram app you couldn’t help the way you tensed up, surprised…thrilled. Carter Baizen had added you as a friend and hearted five or more of your pictures. Selfies. Ones of you dolled up and hitting all of your angles. Your stomach twists and a treacherous smile spreads across your face.

After a couple seconds you force yourself to click off of your phone, to reach over and toss it onto the bedside table. To force all giddy, stupid thoughts of Carter out of your head.

Don’t be an idiot, you chide yourself.

You wish you would have listened.

@peacefulwriter88 @buchonians @beautifullybarnes @misrobyn81 @prettybubblesintheair @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @thatawkwardtinyperson @bucysforeverprincess @whenallssaidanddone @shayla-markele @brandybucky @toastmaster94 @tatathekissypotato @mellypuddinpop @geekyweed @iamwarrenspeace @4theluvofall @mashed-fandom-imagines @stellarsebastian @winterbuttmunch @lilac-meadows @mrs-stan-barnes @supernovasandcoronas

Okay so I’m going to be messing with the timeline of GG. I’ll be taking elements and events from the show, but kind of twisting them and making them my own. If that’s not your cup of tea, this ones probably not for you.

And okay, some back ground on this reader; Her mother was a Bass; Bart and Jacks sister. We’ll get more into her death later , and her father maybe, just might pop up in later chapters.

Also, keep in mind that if you want to be tagged in this story(and if so please ask in the comment section), I would very much appreciate it if you give me some kind of feedback. Comment! Reblog! Tell me what you want to see! Don’t ghost read on me y'all lol

[lettersofsky]

Feelings In Bloom

Day 3 | Hanahaki | The Disease where flowers bloom in a person’s lungs in response to unrequired love. I research flower language for this one! I’ll put which ones means what at the bottom! Hope you enjoy! Ko-Fi 

The first time was barely remembered by Sephiroth.

He had just returned from a long mission in the Northern Continent, having spent over a week in the freezing snow-covered land hunting down monsters that had attacked a few homes, barely able to remain on his feet and eager to return to the safety and comfort of his own bed.

But then Zack called him, telling him that Cloud was stealing his kitchen to cook something and he was welcome to come join them, to indulge in some home-cooking for once. He couldn’t bring himself to pass up the opportunity to spend time with the two after so long away, especially with the promise of food being provided, from Cloud no less, who never failed to please Sephiroth’s taste buds.

The night had been more than enjoyable, filled with good food and pleasant company. He enjoyed the chance to speak to Cloud, the younger was often too busy with his own responsibilities in the infantry to spare time for them and days where the younger was free and awake enough to spend time with them. Cloud was always more of a listener than a speaker, but he must have realized how exhausted Sephiroth was because he took control of conversation, speaking where Sephiroth would have and letting him remain quiet until he left for his own rooms, a bowl of leftovers cradled to his chest.

He put it away in his fridge once he was back in his room, deciding not to bother with the hassle of a shower and having to dry his hair and collapsed in his bed, burrowing under his blankets and falling into unconsciousness as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He awoke the next morning, barely remembering the coughing fit that awoke him during the midnight hours. He lifted himself from his bed, stumbling his way towards the shower to wash the last few days from his skin and the build up from his hair. When he emerged from the shower he saw a small bit of purple on the floor by his bed, smaller than his fingernail.

He lifted it from the floor, surprised to discover that it was actually a tiny, purple flower. He disposed of the blossom, assuming that it had been left in his apartment by Zack the last time the other had been in his apartment, left there as Sephiroth hadn’t gotten the chance to clean before being shipped out.

He put the odd appearance out of his mind, continuing with his day; the only reminder of his coughing fit a slight dryness in his throat and an odd tickle that disappeared within the first hour of being awake.

He ignored the flowers he saw around his bed upon waking over the next few days, explaining away each instance as easily as he breathed.

Or, at least he did until the day he had a coughing fit at his table, over the bowl of leftovers Cloud had given him. It came over him suddenly, catching him off guard as he set down the bowl of steaming food on the table, it was only a small cough, but insistent. He felt like there was something stuck in his airway, something long and satiny, irritating his throat as he forced it from his lungs.

When he finally managed to dislodge whatever it was, he looked down at his hands, staring at the thing he held.

It was the same kind of flower he’d been discovering by his bed the past few mornings, but longer, numerous little flowers clinging to a vine. They were covered in saliva and wet in his hand, sticking to his skin in a disconcerting mess of saliva and mucus.

He flinched at the sight of them, flinging the flowers away from him and abandoning the steaming food still on his table. He fled to his room and didn’t emerge until well into the next day.

It didn’t happen again for another few weeks, he was starting to believe that he’d imagined the event altogether; the results of a walking nightmare perhaps. He’d just returned from meeting Cloud for coffee, their two schedules allowing them the chance to meet, and had just entered his office when he started coughing again, leaning back against his door as his lungs revolted against something within them.

He hacked and coughed until he felt something brush against the top of his mouth, he reached into his mouth to pry the thing from his mouth. But he didn’t get the chance to inspect it, as he was still coughing, his body working to dispel the foreign objects from his lungs.

He was thankful that his office was sound-proof else someone else might have heard the awful, wet hacking noises that were forced from him as he coughed up flowers for something close to ten minutes. When he was finally able to pull his hands away from his mouth he was left staring at numerous clumps of tiny flowers, some silken and purple, the rest fuzzy and yellow.

His chest heaved with his strained breaths, shock and horror keeping his thoughts halted in his mind as he stared down at the yellow and purple flowers that he held clasped in his hands. He eventually managed to force himself into movement, stumbling over to his desk and depositing the saliva-soaked petals before him.

He dropped his head into his hands, exhaustion overwhelming him momentarily.

After what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head from his hands and turned his attention to the computer set up at his desk; he wouldn’t get anywhere just sitting there, he needed to find out what was happening to him.

Long hours and numerous dead ends found him on a small forum page detailing a very rare disease that sounded achingly similar to what he was experiencing; Hanahaki, the disease where flowers grew in the lungs in response to unrequited love and would continue to grow until they suffocated the sufferer completely.

But that would mean that he was in love and he couldn’t be, he would have realized it if he was.

He thought back to the time he had asked Angeal about what love felt like; his friend had described it as an increased fondness, feeling happier in another person’s presence than he had just moments before, and wanting to see another so much that he made time in his schedule to see them.

He didn’t feel that way about anyone, the only person even close to inspiring those kind of feelings was…

…

Cloud.

It was Cloud.

A startled laugh escaped his throat as the realization swept over him; he was in love with Cloud and Cloud, didn’t return those feelings.

The forum said there were only two known cures to Hanahaki; your love being returned or a very dangerous surgery that removed the infected tissue from his lungs and the feelings of love with it.

He swallowed heavily, weighing his options carefully before opening another tab, searching for a doctor within Midgar that could cure him of his disease. He found one eventually but it was too late to contact them, he lifted himself from his chair, shutting down his computer and gathering the now-dry flowers from his desk to dispose of them.

He was hit by another fit of coughing as he entered his rooms, leaving him with more flowers to dispose of. He supposed he should be thankful that he was only coughing up small flowers and not the full blooms he had read about.

But the return of the flowers reminded him that he had promised to join Cloud in the gym the next day, to help him with his swordwork. Meaning he would need to wait a bit of time be could contact the doctor in the morning, though he was certain that he’d be able to handle things during the duration of the morning.

His thoughts were proven false a moment later when the coughing started once again, they passed quickly and he was only left with a few lines of small yellow flowers in his hands, but they still left him shaken.

It seemed that now he knew what was affecting him and why, the cough increased, more flowers growing in his lungs now that he had realized that he was, in fact, in love with Cloud. He barely slept that night but he was still able to meet Cloud like he promised; he could go days without sleep, a single night wasn’t going to ruin him.

He was granted a reprieve during his time with Cloud, seemingly bereift of flowers for the moment. It was an odd experience, seeing Cloud for the first time since realizing he was in love with him almost like he was seeing the other for the very first time. His mind kept picking out things about the other man; the smile on his face when he got a move right, the focused expression on his face as Sephiroth explained or showed him something, how natural it felt to work with him and, perhaps more importantly, the way his eyes lit up when Sephiroth congratulated him.

Time passed far too quickly for Sephiroth’s liking and their hours together finished, Cloud needed to return to his duties and Sephiroth to his own work. Sephiroth found himself lingering, wanting to spend more time with Cloud in his current circumstance; the emotions would be gone soon, he wanted to experience them to the fullest while he could.

Cloud must have picked up that something was wrong though, as he turned a concerned look up to him. “You ok, Sephiroth?” He asked, voice matching his expression. “You’re kinda out of it.”

Sephiroth took a moment to breathe, mentally shaking himself for causing Cloud to worry about him. “I’m fine,” he said, words as steady as he could make them, portraying confidence and certainly. “There’s no need to worry about me.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed at him, not quite believing his reassurance, but choosing not to push him. “You’ll tell me if you need to, right?”

Sephiroth found himself nodding, though he knew that he wouldn’t be telling Cloud anything about what was currently afflicting him he didn’t want the younger to feel pressured into returning his feelings. He would handle this on his own.

“Good,” Cloud said, nodding himself and relaxing his shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow right? Dinner at Zack’s?”

Ah, yes, that was something they all did together, wasn’t it? How could he have forgotten that weekly occurrence?

“I will do my best to attend,” he promised, unsure if he’d be able to have dinner with his two friends with his disease. He didn’t want to worry them with a sudden coughing fit and be forced to explain thing to them.

He’d keep this to himself, until it was passed and things returned to the way they should be.

“I’ll see you there then,” Cloud said, pulling Sephiroth from his thoughts as he left the gym.

He watched Cloud leave, gaze trained on the doors that had just closed after the other and blocked him from his sight. The only warning to his upcoming cough fit was a slight tickle at the back of his throat, spasms wracking his frame and almost sending him to the floor under their strength.

When it passed he looked at the blossoms cradled in his hands, surprised to see a new flower amongst them. A single pale pink blossom lay with the smaller purple and yellow flowers, he picked it out gingerly, inspecting the new addition curiously. It’s outer petals were pink but on the inside they became a deep crimson at the centre of the flower. He supposed it might have been pleasing to the eye, if he hadn’t just spent a few minutes hacking it from his lungs.

He lifted himself from his knees, stumbling a few steps before he steadied himself and leave the gym seemingly fine to those around him. He made his way back to his office to arrange an appointment with the specialist, the flowers were becoming larger and more frequent, he needed to be rid of them as quickly as he could.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t get an appointment until late in the next week, there was a lot of preparation needed for the surgery he would need and that was the soonest it could be ready. He thanked the specialist for arranging things as quickly as they could before hanging up, relieved that he at least had a date to work towards and that the flowers would be removed as soon as they could be.

He merely had to endure until the date. He could do that.

That of course, proved more difficult than he thought it would be. The flowers continued to grow in his lungs at a steady rate, now leaving him with bouquets of purple, yellow and pink numerous times a day.

He had somehow managed to keep his condition a secret from Cloud and Zack, they were worried about him surely, he had had to cancel a few of their plans together, feeling awful each time he did so, but they didn’t know about his Hanahaki.

He was hoping to make up for it tonight though, the coughing fits had eased a bit today and he felt confident enough to have them over. He had volunteered to cook tonight as well, a further apology to his friends for being so distant with them the past few days.

Cloud arrived just as he was setting the lasagna to cook for the final few minutes, nervous and early, he looked up at him with a searching expression. Sephiroth felt trapped by the other’s stare, frozen in place and unable to move under the blue eyes focused upon him. He waited, expecting Cloud to realize everything that had been happening and leave the apartment, never to speak to him again, but that was just his thoughts getting the best of him.

What happened instead was Cloud blinking, releasing him from his stare and flushing slightly, pink rising to his cheeks in an attractive display, eyes ducking away from Sephiroth’s own. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Cloud sadi softly, shy for some reason. “I, we, were really worried about you.”

“I’m alright,” he reassured the other, unaware that his voice had dropped in a quiet volume similar to Cloud’s own. “Things are alright.” He wanted to reach out to the other, reassure him through touch as well as words, but he held himself back, knowing that that might have pushed a boundary with the other.

He only had a few days of being in love with Cloud left, he didn’t want to waste them by making the other uncomfortable.

“Good,” Cloud breathed, shifting in front of him awkwardly.

“Come in,” Sephiroth said, stepping back to allow Cloud into his apartment. “Dinner will be done in a few minutes, and Zack is sure to be arriving soon.”

“Yeah,” Cloud said, walking into his apartment and taking off his shoes at the door before looking back at him. “You need help with anything?”

“You can help me set the table if you’d like,” Sephiroth offered, getting Cloud’s agreement before walking back into his kitchen and handing the plates and cutlery to the younger.

Dinner was a pleasant affair and he enjoyed the chance to spend time with both Zack and Cloud, they both enjoyed his food and the conversation flowed easily. They put on a movie once dinner was done, just wanting to spend more time together, Zack and Cloud left afterwards, bidding him a good evening and hoping to see him soon.

He felt good as he bid them farewell and that high stayed with him for the rest of the night as he prepared for bed, it lasted until the next day when he suddenly realized that he hadn’t had a coughing fit since the previous morning. This revelation confused him, as the forms hadn’t said anything about the flowers stopping, so the only thing that should have affected them was…

But that was impossible; he was sure that he was still in love with Cloud, that certainly hadn’t faded within the past week. Meaning that the only possibility was that…

Cloud returned his affections.

As if brought on by the thought, another coughing fit overcame him; though it wasn’t anywhere near as severe as it had been even a day prior. It ended quickly enough, with him having to pull a blossom from his mouth as it clung stubbornly to his throat, he opened his eyes once it was out and stared down at the flower.

It was a new flower, one he hadn’t seen before, and larger than the others had been. It was a lovely shade of orangy-pink and was different than anything he’d ever seen before; petals were layered on top of each other in a pleasing pattern, the centre of the flower a bright yellow colour, similar to Cloud’s hair.

He took a picture of the flower with his PHS, searching for its name. He found it after a few moments, a page showing him pictures of flowers identical to what he held in his hand.

Ambrosia.

Seemed he wouldn’t need that surgery after all.

Purple Lilac - First Emotions of Love | Yellow Acacia - Secret Love | Rose of Sharon - Consumed by Love | Ambrosia - Love is reciprocated

Ko-Fi

[celiarollins]

how does renters insurance work with roommates

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how does renters insurance work with roommates

how does renters insurance work with roommates? Should I get renters insurance for my roommate? If your roommate wants to stick with you and you insist on a renters insurance policy, then the best course of action should be to work with an independent agent to find the best rate to meet your needs and budget. This can also be an invaluable way to save on your bills. that have been the subject of conversation for some time, I think you can tell my experience from my initial conversation with her and also, unfortunately, I can’t recommend her for a person with this kind of attitude. It’s obviously been more stressful speaking to someone on the phone right this moment. My agent is understanding and really has her work taken care of, and I’m lucky that she’s also got a real heart in this town. I would like to get started. Thank you. At first I would call her and ask her for her phone number. Since there is an existing insurance pool, she would. how does renters insurance work with roommates or roommars? What about roommate loans? Can I save on car insurance? Well, in case an accident happens, a deposit will be covered. Yes, your roommate and your auto insurance will be covered by your policy, too. But, when you file a renter’s insurance claim with a local insurance company, that company will probably offer to help you set up a different insurance policy. This is probably an obvious option, but it may not be what you think of the other driver. Do you think it makes sense to have a local insurance company at all? Most renters insurance policies cover your liability for bodily injury or property damage caused by being in a major auto accident. That means that even if the homeowner is at fault, the damage caused is covered. Other scenarios in which you might need to make a claim include: Your roommate’s auto insurance is only good liability protection. But, what if your roommate’s car gets broken into? You will not be covered. how does renters insurance work with roommates? You probably know that rental insurance is included in most renters insurance policies, but if you rent and depend on them, you could easily run into trouble! The most common reason people make such claims is because of their lack of financial responsibility. The best renters insurance for roommates is called the rental policy of their use (DIV). If your roommate’s home is on the way out, you won’t want anyone else to be on your renters insurance policy. Most insurance claims include: When your roommates get sick or hurt, they need a way to cover the cost of their damages. Renters insurance gives them more flexibility. Many renters insurance policies specify that they must use their own to fill a covered loss, but many of these policies also cover any and. This kind of coverage is only the most basic type of rental insurance you might need. You could consider insurance you don’t or no way need. The rental.

View the latest blog posts from Jean Deese Insurance.

View the latest blog posts from Jean Deese Insurance. CarInsuranceComparison.com was created because we wanted to make it easy for anyone to compare car insurance online - from many different companies! Disclaimer: CarInsuranceComparison.com strives to present the most up-to-date and comprehensive information on saving money on car insurance possible. This information may be different than what you see when you visit an insurance provider, insurance agency, or insurance company website. All insurance rates, products, and services are presented without warranty and guarantee. When evaluating rates, please verify directly with your insurance company or agent. Quotes and offers are not binding, nor a guarantee of coverage. Many people don’t know that they need car insurance for one day. Car insurance is a mandatory part of most of their lives and if you are living in a state without car insurance, getting in an accident or not at all, can be a big financial burden. You have all the benefits of getting your own.

I m a financial planner, and I almost always recommend the same type of life insurance to my clients

I m a financial planner, and I almost always recommend the same type of life insurance to my clients. What is your financial plan? The best thing is to have your insurance company choose you from several different companies, all of which pay out the claims on your life insurance policy that they are familiar with your policy, making it easy to find the best company for your family and that you can live on your income for as long as you need the protection. If I want you my policy, then what would you do and what plan would I purchase? There have been a few factors, but generally speaking, your family’s needs are not always met. That’s why life insurance is most important when it comes to protecting your child who needs attention. Your son or daughter is a special type of insurance, or a spouse’s policy, depending on the plan and how they work, or an arrangement that does pay out after you pass away so that after one for the duration of your child’s life, but no later than.

What is renters insurance and how does it work?

What is renters insurance and how does it work? Renters insurance, also known as : an umbrella policy, offers coverage for both rentals and property damage. This kind of policy usually covers damage, but only in limited circumstances. Renters insurance protects you from the costs of damage incurred in the event of theft or vandalism.  Why does the rental company pay what the policy’s coverage limits do? The policy may contain clauses that make it necessary for the rental company to cover an unavoidable cost. These clauses often appear in the rental agreement, but they are meant to add to the liability of the owner. An additional clause appears in the policy, which states the policy will not pay out the claim amount should you suffer property damage. This clause is referred to as “liability,” so it covers the rental company’s liability for damages to other people or property. The policy does not cover damages to your other personal property like an airplane. Some rental companies will refer to these as “not-at-fault.

How personal liability insurance protects you

How personal liability insurance protects you from the loss to your vehicle. However, there are limitations of insurance coverage and there are no guarantees of an exemption. Be sure to carefully review your coverage prior to purchasing this important, expensive premium. If you or someone you know was killed in an auto accident, your auto insurance provider will pay for medical costs. If you have been found to be more at fault, a court or medical examiner will come to your aid in the hopes of finding that you, and the person that you knew to be at-fault. If you decide to file an insurance claim the insurance company will investigate and determine that your claim is as much fault or responsibility as any of the other motorists involved in the accident. However the amount and severity of penalty may vary depending on who is at fault. It is important to check with your auto insurance provider and/or your insurance company to learn if you can obtain the proper coverage. You may be able to provide some compensation for your medical bills by paying the deductible.

Insurance

Insurance company is a very reputable and good name, and they provide a great range of services, all from local jobs of our employees. The they are not a simple company. In fact, insurance carriers are required to have auto insurance as an option on their employees’ car insurance policies as well. We can’t be sure but that there are very few professional auto insurance companies in Minnesota. In fact, when it comes to auto insurance quotes, we are very satisfied with our insurance company. We are sure all of the insurance companies on the web are progressive and many insurance companies may also be very competitive with one other insurance company. If you are a Minnesota resident and you are looking for auto insurance quotes in Chattanooga OR, then use the links below. Most insurance companies do not offer car insurance in St. Paul. But don’t fret if you find yourself in need of.

What does renters insurance cover?

What does renters insurance cover? Let’s look at the pros and cons of renters insurance in Missouri. Let’s just say their average annual premium for Missouri renters insurance is about $1000. Let’s just say the cost of renters insurance can be around $1000 if they can afford it. Renters insurance is just one more perk to include, so renters insurance would be the main consideration: Insurance for renters insurance as an additional means of protection against financial loss. Is there an insurance option if you’d prefer: If you’re in the market for a cheap renters insurance policy, think of it like this: It covers everything, including loss of use – but if the reason you want to cancel your policy for a different company isn’t covered well enough, something else might be better and cheaper then just to choose a cheaper company and just stick with that low of both price and coverage. The good news is that there isn’t one company that best suits your needs when it.

I use my health insurance plan to save for retirement instead of paying medical bills, and it s one of the smartest financial choices I ve made

I use my health insurance plan to save for retirement instead of paying medical bills, and it s one of the smartest financial choices I ve made. It allows me to do all the shopping I’ll need to make an informed decision about my health when I want to take care of my family or I need a job. In my opinion, good coverage and affordable rates make the new coverage affordable and great value to me. –Kamir L. From an insurance perspective, I ve had several life insurance policies (a 10,000 policy (a $500,000 long-term care policy), which are no longer in my insurance policy. The premiums were lower than my term policy when I had the policy. There was always a premium. However, no matter how much time I saved, I wasn’t able to qualify for the lower premiums. That s why I switched to a full coverage plan when I was able to get the cheaper coverage. When I called for life insurance, the call was pretty simple but the agent explained that I had to apply for it if I could. Unfortunately, no one answered the phone.

Get Renters Insurance Quotes Now

Get Renters Insurance Quotes Now More than the typical 1/2-million customers, of renters can be hurt, in many cases not financially. If you’ve recently received a rental, or if a friend or family member is a renter, with the company you want to rent to. You could also get a free home insurance quote for free from a company of your own choice. As a renter, you can purchase only one policy — renters insurance does not allow you to choose a destination or use your favorite beachfront spot on your property. Renters insurance can provide some additional protection, if needed. The same type of renters insurance you get from your landlord is needed to legally have auto coverage in all states. You can even be on the hook for the lowest premium rates because you ll have renters insurance coverage that can cover damages to your vehicle and other property while you�re out of town on business. But renters insurance does not cover theft or damage and you don t have to be out of town.

How to share renters insurance with roommates

How to share renters insurance with roommates? Your roommates share insurance or you can share the policy with one person. In this, they can share it for an additional cost. But, in some cases, you might need roommates, too. Remember to make sure they have the same policy when at home and share the same information with your spouse through work or an agent. In these cases, be sure to share the policy with your roommates in case one of them gets into an unfortunate incident while you’re away, like a snowstorm or falling tree damage. Many renters can purchase separate renters insurance from an online marketplace, which is another option. You can buy a policy as specific as its coverage amount and limit that maximum amount of coverage by first getting quotes from a few insurance providers in your area, or by checking with your local chapter to see online policies that are suited for the situation. After you’ve found the number to compare, simply fill out the form on this page with your personal information (name,.

You might be able to share insurance with your roomie — but that doesn t mean you should.

You might be able to share insurance with your roomie — but that doesn t mean you should. It s an older man, and if you have the right insurance coverage in place, you re covered. If you re looking for a more complete review of the best insurance companies in the U-Haul and their products, check out the . If your apartment is covered under your personal home policy, you can still share a business property for as long as you own it, as long as you work there, as long as it doesn t cause a lot of damage to anything you keep on a business property in one area or another. But you can leave your personal property in the building — just in case. Most people don t own it. And if you don t own your house and you don t have to rent it out — then you won t be able to share it. You can borrow a building s building-insist liability coverage for as little as a dollar a night — as long as you loan it out to multiple tenants. And you can also add business property coverage for things like.

[arichhipster]

Extra! Extra! Life As a Movie Extra in New Mexico

(LIFE OF A MOVIE EXTRA...... Er, I suggest.... BACKGROUND ARTIST)

As I left the house, I glanced on the outdoor thermometer. It examine five under. Thankfully the car started out. Once on the street, as I approached my destination, in the nonetheless-morning darkness, I became off the primary street and observed the road of purple tail lighting up the hill's dirt music in the direction of the properly-lit tents above. Through the frozen tundra, I walk from the auto to the primary tent, greeted through warm smiles and friendly exchanges as I checked in, thankful that the changing room turned into amply heated https://new-solarmovie.com/countries After six previous workdays, the changeover from civilian to duration western garments turned into old hat now; long johns first, fast adding blouse, pants, each with severa buttons, suspenders, boots, jacket, work gloves and hat, all of the even as speaking to my fellow comrades. Next, stand in line to get grubby, as hair and makeup girls dirty you up. I look inside the mirror, thinking who that desperado is that's staring returned at me.

Finished, I throw my civilian jacket over cloth wardrobe, and walk returned outdoor into the frigid air, trying no longer to slip on snow, ice and cables as I slowly assignment towards the eating tent for some short breakfast and important hot coffee. People are often subdued internal, something to do with the numbing bloodless.

A closely jacketed woman with a headset steps into the tent and yells to us "The van is right here!" Begrudgingly we step returned out into the bloodless, slide into the vehicles and tour closer to the western town this is just beginning to emerge in the dawning mild. Crawl out of the van. If the temperature rises above freezing, the snow we are hiking through turns into a muddy mess later. Somebody yells "I see Props" and we go and outfit ourselves with our weapons and holsters. More salutations from bundled team contributors as you walk towards the protecting facility hoping for one ultimate cup of coffee which of course isn't always brewed but. Too overdue besides, you're needed for the first shot of the day. It's time to play make-agree with. You locate solace questioning at least Russell Crowe and Christian Bale appearance cold as properly.

You glance round at your surroundings and say. "Hey, here I am, status inside the center of a Hollywood movie, ready to play a gunman in an Old West town." There's simplest one character I recognize who would be silly enough to position up with these situations for so little pay...I MUST BE A MOVIE EXTRA (or heritage artist as we within the commercial enterprise choose to be called). Forget approximately my close-up shot, I thought. Just area me inside the warm temperature of the solar!

And so starts another day as a movie greater on a movie manufacturing set. Usually the climate situations are not so intense as this particular New Mexico January day changed into at the set of "3:10 To Yuma", but while they're...Properly, that simply provides to the story.

Given those conditions, why could one want to be an Extra? Is it for the cash...Hardly ever, although for many it's far a paying activity which human beings are finding tougher to come by in recent times. Is it for the hazard to look your face on the silver display, if most effective for a 2d? There's the carrot on a stick enticement, the opportunity of having a speaking component, which right now catapults you to a higher pay scale, and a cooler pair of sunglasses. The rumor whisperers proclaim, "You know so-and-so large call actor began his career as an additional".

How about the opportunity for a departure from the normal habitual, gambling a man or woman that's quite one of a kind out of your ordinary self?

Other reasons might be the social benefit the prolonged circle of relatives bond offers that develops amongst fellow extras who have worked together on preceding movie productions; the capability to have a look at moviemaking firsthand; and the ego enhance you experience when you receive a pleasant nod or salutation from a chief movie star. And sure, there is additionally an inexpensive paycheck and complimentary food.

For me, it's a majority of these reasons, and maximum veritably for the tales.

In current years, Hollywood has arrived with a vengeance in New Mexico, a country with a moviemaking records so long as the enterprise itself. When I first moved right here in '94 several movie and TV productions have been ongoing. A woman pal of mine told me about a casting name. I stood in line in the resort lobby till a person in casting took my Polaroid and asked if I turned into to be had in two weeks. One surprise smartphone call later, I turned into attempting on my new western cloth cabinet for the TV mini-collection "Buffalo Girls". I've been in most cases available ever considering the fact that.

Movie hobby quick lapsed into a lull during the late 90s; but, new tax incentives for the film industry (and our a lot less expensive hard work force) created a resurgence in moviemaking in the past 5 years. Today, whilst the tediously lengthy casting call traces and Polaroid headshots have given manner to new methods like Internet bulletins, digital pictures and e-mailed resumes, lifestyles as a further has remained highly the identical. One moment hasn't modified; the manner you experience after a long twelve-hour workday, having worked due to the fact earlier than sunrise to sundown; you are cold and tired, standing in line within the dark ready to return your wardrobe so you can check out and go home...All at once exhausted and gratified.

If you are trying to pursue history greater work as a full-time profession, my advice would be high-quality to hold your day activity. A bendy paintings time table (unemployed being the exceptional) is a prerequisite for running as a further. The nature of the enterprise is to be geared up to paintings at a moment's observe which is near not possible if you paintings a often scheduled task.

It's no marvel Hollywood enjoys working with us New Mexicans, and plenty of production human beings will gladly country this reality. The majority of extras I've labored with are a very courteous, amiable, uncomplaining, cooperative, tolerant lot, some distance distinct we are informed from our "large town" cousins lower back in LA. Of course, even within this high-quality group of New Mexico extras there are constantly those exceptions, the demanding standouts: The Braggart, whose alleged credentials are without problems challenged; the Movie Star Wannabee Schmoozer who's determined for the large danger, willing to dangle and cajole all of us who they assume will assist circulate them up the stardom ladder; and of path, every big group has at the least one chronic complainer. Fortunately, those individuals get weeded out quite rapid.

I appreciate the eclectic, unbiased, iconoclastic kind individuals who often gravitate to this bendy innovative line of work: the creative, impartial people (artisans, rock band roadies, jack of all trades); the worldly iconoclasts (hippies, vacationers, philosophers); the tough-working, generous blue-collar souls who love the hazard to act out special roles inside the movies; the destiny movie makers; the unemployed; the curious; the ones looking for a loving, worrying circle of relatives; musicians between gigs; ex-veteran pensioners; those folks who come from sad houses and economic conditions looking for escapism and happiness; the real cowboys; those pursuing movie production careers; the coolest souls whose honesty and wellknown kindness has harm them in the cruel, actual global of commercial enterprise; and those individuals stepping out in their recurring exercises.

Learning the Hollywood lingo is a part of the process's attraction: terms which includes "back to at least one", "that turned into extremely good--- permit's do one greater", "martini shot", "checking the gate"' "this is a wrap", "silence on the set"' "checking sound", and "Action!" For a veteran history artist, this film jargon coats you in a mantle it really is fun to put on.

What is an ordinary day on the set? Days are lengthy. While on some productions you are working an awesome portion of the day on set, regularly you're waiting in some preserving room or tent, possibly hours in length, 9 hours my document, before you are referred to as for a scene. During these off digital camera moments, it is as much as you whether to make the most of the waiting state of affairs either thru social conversations or through quietly analyzing a ebook, gambling playing cards or chess, ingesting snacks, or, as what came about after nine hours of waiting on the "Beerfest" film set retaining location, breakdancing and lap dancing. Otherwise, you may pick to whine, pout and be commonly uninterested in the revel in. That man or woman can constantly move lower back to paintings on the thrilling vocation of financial institution clerk.

Regretfully, as an additional you are stored broadly speaking within the dark as to the storyline and the way your small contribution applies to the context of the movie. Very little is told to you approximately the scene or what sort of person you are gambling, so regularly as an extra you tend to create your very own person tale. You pay attention "Action!" yelled so that you begin to pantomime your imaginary speak with others as you sit down at a desk or stroll down a street. Suddenly the director yells, "Great...That turned into exceptional, everyone" and the scene is over. This method your cognitive instincts for the scene were spot on tremendous, or your presence wasn't even on digicam so it didn't depend what the heck you have been doing. I examined this concept out on "Into The West" by using acting Monty Python fashion backward funny walks at some point of my history crossings, and the scene turned into perfect; just as I idea, not on digital camera.

A given truth but is when you are seen on digital camera, and you're not doing what the director needs, to your know-how or in any other case; a director's tongue-lashing can arise, plenty to your humiliated chagrin.

On the rare occasion a director, AD, AAD (assistant, assistant director) or casting director actually enlightens us film extras as to the context of the scene we are approximately to movie and its relevance to the screenplay, it is significantly liked and facilitates us get prompted and obsessed on our position.

We're the background coloration, an imperative function in the scene's final outcome. We complete the scene's surroundings by bringing "the set" to lifestyles, offering the social environment from which the principle actors play off of, in place of forcing them to paintings in a vacuum.

Sometimes one's first-time more enjoy can be hard. One negative woman on the set for "Wild, Wild West" fainted difficult after succumbing to the mixed results of August heat and suffocating corset. Stoically, she attempted again the following day, only to be nearly trampled by horses at some stage in the chaos scene. Never noticed her again after that.

There's an artwork to getting on camera with out being too pushy or apparent. Get stuck mugging the digital camera, and, like what occurred to a pricey friend of ours, you are fired instant, which of direction now provides an possibility for a person else. The vintage standby, the casting sofa, or trailer, or tent, can nonetheless paintings, as a minimum temporarily. I have also discovered that one's possibilities are substantially improved in the event that they work on a comedy, for there are actually higher screen opportunities for extras on comedies than in dramas. Mostly, however, the best manner, which is totally out of your manipulate, is having "the right look" that a director wants. Before you understand it, you're positioned in a scene prepared to confront Pierce Brosnan or Liam Neeson. Suddenly, the director yells "and...Action!

Sometimes your digital camera time might encompass a few exciting computer graphics and make-up. If you've got been painstakingly, grotesquely rearranged via makeup artists to play a zombie, augmented with horrifying prosthetics, it is able to only be you that recognizes yourself whilst your horrifying face debuts at the screen.

I did a particular double-take at the "Unspeakable" movie jail set after I walked past Dennis Hopper's head sitting on a table, after which Dennis Hopper himself exceeded me via within the corridor.

You might not experience the dramatic scene you are taking part in, while status in front of a computer graphics "blue screen"; but, your jaw-losing aghast reaction may want to measure your appearing competencies since you're supposedly responding to a robot monster achieving towards you, no longer a scraggly droopy-pants group member.

On the "Beerfest" movie set, the emphasis changed into whatever however actual beer in our mugs. First, production attempted an ineffective vacuum system designed to suck near-beer out of our mugs, frequently with hilarious outcomes. Next process turned into to digitize the beer into our empty mugs. We because the Irish beer drinking group took moderate offense at these methods in view that first, in fact, we would have out drank the Germans, and 2d, we should have without problems drunk real beers in report competitive time!

And with set layout it is excellent not to look too closely, for in the course of the ones dramatic funeral scenes, the somber cinematic mood is probably broken if the audience knew who is without a doubt written on those movie styrofoam cemetery tombstones like Yo Mama, Three Stooges and Jethro Tull.

In some instances the story in the back of the film is greater pleasing than the film itself. The city of Madrid become selected via Disney to represent the all-American town ready with white-wood fences, flora, lace curtains, heat nearby diner, and Chili festival. However, there aren't any white wooden fences here in actual lifestyles; extra accurately associated with black wood enamel, gauged through some of the locals' abusive usage of crack. The city's decor is more raw and cool, than homespun, seeing that its origin as a coal mining metropolis and later, a hippie haven. The diner, now a tourist enchantment, turned into built in particular for the movie and any actual local would say, "We do not need no stinkin' Chile festival!"

There is the symmetry connection with Disney that is also charming. Flying over Madrid, an old coal mining city inside the overdue 20s, Walt Disney became so captivated by way of the metropolis's twinkling display of Christmas lighting, the scene inspired him to years later create the Disney World Parade of Lights. Disney, the company, had lower back to pay their respects to Madrid, in their personal warped corporate manner.

On some of films our old prison has been used for more than one units, occasionally at the same time as an antique jail which includes on the film "Unspeakable". Over twenty years in the past, the old jail have been witness to a macabre, deadly jail riot massacre and siege. Even nowadays blood stains are still visible from that horrible occasion and tales ran rampant at the set about team member's character reports with ghost sightings and other eerie sensations.

I'll regularly listen people ask "How do huge actors behave--- are the rumors true?" I recognize our tabloid-pushed inquisitive minds need to accept as true with the memories of prima donnas, spoiled brat temper tantrums and privileged treatments; however, in truth, the actors I've visible behave in a professional, conscientious manner on the set. They pay attention attentively to the director's recommendation and vice versa. Some actors can be very personable with the extras, other extra remote, staying in person or reviewing their lines. Some actors are very secure, taking the off digicam moment to journey their horses or trip their bikes between scenes. Sometimes you overhear the actor's occasional disgruntled tone which a few manufacturing member tried to speedy assuage. Heck, you pay attention those tones from us all the time. It become difficult however to restrain from giggling or yelling "Martin, come on!" while Martin continually arrived on the "Wild Hogs" Madrid set with his bodyguard entourage, pushed in a Mercedes golfcart for the arduous 3 blocks from his triple-decker luxurious bus whilst a beautiful assistant carried a mini-fan to hold him cool.

The movie and TV industry has been so prolific at some stage in the Santa Fe/Albuquerque/Las Vegas place, your day by day distinctions among fiction and reality start to blur. The second felt surreal while, after having watched "Swing Vote", I left the film theater simplest to pass the equal grandstand featured in the film on Rodeo Road simply ten minutes later. Blink, look again, and there may be "Astronaut Farmer's" united states of america fair. South of metropolis there may be one rural stretch wherein I assume to come upon the simultaneous convergence of "Wild Hogs" bikers, Billy Bob Thorton's rocketship, and a rough-searching Colorado Volunteers marching regiment.

Even a avenue crossing on downtown Albuquerque's Central Ave. Takes on a new dimension when you have to be cautious of large Transformer robots stepping on you!

Not discounting the great current successes of so many diverse film and TV cutting-edge project topics made on this country, New Mexico's center essence nevertheless embodies the traditional American Western. Once you are fully outfitted in western garb, and you are taking the moment to absolutely embody your environment, a dusty, windswept street within the middle of a western metropolis, a very special feeling envelops you. Your mind can also flashback to youth fantasies, gambling a cowboy or gunfighter, remembering studying testimonies of the Old West or seeing your first wild west TV display or film. On western sets the heritage artists virtually appear to be our pioneer ancestors, a length of records which was honestly only some generations ago.

Pierce Brosnan turned into fascinated by how much our motley institution clearly sported long hair and beards, wore cowboy hats, chewed tobacco, demonstrated know-how of horses and guns, and who nonetheless slept in tents.

While at the set, youngsters fast modify and revert to less complicated pleasures. Townsmen tip their hats to women in bonnets at the same time as the gunslingers exercise twirling their plastic weapons, hoping to be issued real guns for the shootout scene.

Western movies generally tend to have the most tough climate situations, either blistering hot within the summer, blow-dried dusty inside the spring, and brutally bloodless at some stage in the wintry weather months, which perversely is the favorite season for maximum productions.

The western set can also be the most hazardous. A properly-skilled choreographer and horse wrangler coordinator is obligatory for, if ill-prepared, tragedy may additionally strike. Such have been the instances on the primary day of shooting on "3:10 to Yuma" wherein a horse changed into mortally wounded and rider critically injured, or the primary day of filming the Sand Creek Massacre reenactment on "Into The West" wherein severa horse accidents took place. And, during the filming of "Wild, Wild West", there are careless acts along with the dearth of notification to some forgotten extras that they had to clean the western set earlier than production blew it up. Fortunately, no extras were blown up! And they worry approximately animal mistreatment.

With the latest proliferation of film activity, many new faces have arrived inside the business, while most of the players of just ten years in the past have left the region or long gone on to other endeavors. Sometimes you have to permit own family members go away the nest. Except for the few envious ones, most of the people of us extras are pleased whilst a person from our extended circle of relatives receives a speakme element.

It's a profession wherein one minute you are ready to retire, especially after a grueling fourteen hour day, however then you definitely get the itch to get returned into it, for some other shot at stardom, for some other interesting story, and primarily due to the fact you leave out your buddies.