#anyone got an extra 2-3 grand laying around?

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[m-jelly]

Mask of the heart - Chapter 2

Levi x fem!readerRoyalty, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Curses, Curse Breaking, Demons, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Magic, Romance, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, Love, Love Confessions, True Love, Demon Levi Ackerman, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Running Away, Arranged Marriage, Obsessive Behavior, Soft Levi Ackerman, Levi Ackerman Needs a Hug, Protective Levi Ackerman, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Cuddly Levi Ackerman, Masks, Curvy Reader

In this chapter: Levi and you get very close to each other. You make steps in your relationship as you build confidence in yourself and you start healing.

Ao3

Part 3

After settling in for a few days your chipper personality faded into a sad and scared one, mainly because what you had done sunk in. There was a chance your only remaining family would be hurt or killed. It stung your heart. Part of you was thinking that you should just go back, sacrifice your happiness and just marry him. However, Harold came to mind and how he helped you run away.

People who came in to tend to you were so sweet, but you were so scared of the women and Anne due to the last maid you had betrayed you. They meant well and tried hard to connect with you, but you had this deep concern inside you. You wanted some sense of happiness and friends, but you didn’t know how to achieve it all.

The only person you would let come near you was Levi. Levi was so gentle and kind to you, he would help you eat or do things around his grand home. You would often stay curled up in his bed, unable to move an inch. So, Levi would sit and work next to the bed or sit in a chair and read while you lay there curled up.

Last night you had nightmares, so today you were extra fragile. Levi noticed and wanted to make things better. He was sitting on the floor working on some policies for his land and wondering what to do with his massive fortune. He eyed you and thought about buying you something nice. Compelled by his feelings for you, he slid across the floor and sat right by your head on the floor.

You sniffed back some tears and looked at Levi, his brilliant steel blue eyes sparkling through the mask. “Your lordship. Is everything okay?”

He held the edge of the bed and whined. “L-Levi is f-fine.” He gripped the bed. “You are unhappy. Forgive me for not providing a good home.”

“It’s not you or your people. I had a few nightmares last night.” You sat up and moved your messy bed hair. “I am finding it hard to trust your staff.” You looked over at him. “I-I’m not saying your staff are bad…” You welled up. “I’m sorry.”

Levi scrambled up and sat on the bed next to you. “Please don’t cry.” He reached over for your hands and paused. “Sorry, I shouldn’t touch you with these things…”

You reached over and took his black-clawed hands. “Your hands are lovely.” You played with them, they were warm and smooth. You lifted his hands and kissed them. “Your people are lovely, it’s just back at the palace a maid was assigned to me and I got to know her over the weeks I was locked up there. I thought we had a bond.”

Levi reached up and wiped your tears away. “What happened?”

You sniffed. “She had been poisoning me the whole time because she wanted Jareth all to herself.” You lowered your head. “I didn’t want him. She knew I didn’t want him, but she still…” You shook a little. “Anne is so lovely and gentle. She’s so caring and I feel terrible.”

Levi cupped your face. “You are a good person. You have a good heart. Bad selfish people hurt you. My words probably don’t mean anything, but you are safe here. People here care about you.” He dragged his hands down to your upper arms. “I will protect you and if anyone hurts you or makes you cry…”

You started shaking. “Please don’t hurt them.”

Levi tilted his head. “I won’t lay a finger on their head. I’ll talk sternly to them and tell them I’m disappointed in them.”

You gazed at him. “You’re really sweet and adorable.”

Levi whined a little and felt nervous. “I-I’m not.” He climbed off the bed. “I’ve done bad things to protect this country. I know how to use my sword and I use it well.” He looked at his clawed hands. “My body is made for destruction.”

You slipped out of bed and walked over to Levi. “You see destruction, but I see as protection. You cared and looked after those who needed strength when they had none.” You wrapped your arms around him and rested the side of your head against his back with your hands on his pecs. “You’re a good man. You’ve cared for me when you could have just left me to die.”

Levi placed a hand on yours. “I could never let something like that happen to you.” He pulled your hands off him and turned to face you. “I have an idea. How about you come with me as I do my rounds?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes.”

“Do you need help from Anne in changing?”

You gripped your night dress. “Mm…okay.”

He moved to the room door and saw Anne was waiting. “She’s said yes.”

Anne gasped in delight. “Yes! I’ll dress her up in so many pretty things!” She ran inside and squealed in delight. “Hello, my lady!”

You gripped your dress and bowed. “H-Hello.”

Levi leaned down and whispered to Anne causing her to nod and look sad. He pulled back a bit. “Is there a colour you don’t like?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay with anything.”

“I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Anne clasped her hands together. “Something light and pretty.” She hurried to the walk-in and grabbed a pale light green dress with pretty hand-stitched flowers, the fabric long and flowing. “What do you think?”

You lightly touched the dress. “It’s pretty. I like it.”

She bounced up and down. “So exciting! Ever since I started working for his lordship I’ve dreamed of the day he takes a bride and I get to dress her up, look after her and help her make my lordship blush!”

You giggled. “He’s cute.” You gulped hard as she started to dress you. “Does he always wear that mask?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face.”

“I have.” You smiled at her as she looked in pure awe. “When I jumped into his arm in the snow. He didn’t wear a mask. I thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.” You nibbled your lip. “I want to see it again.”

Anne fixed your hair for you. “Well, let’s work together. We will get him to remove that mask to kiss you.”

You gazed at her. “You don’t want him?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I have a man I love very much.” She held your hands. “I’m not that nasty maid, okay? We all here care about you and his lordship. Most of us here ran away from the prince’s country.”

You squeezed her hands. “I understand. Levi whispered to you about what happened, right?”

“He did. I will work hard to be your friend. If you need boundaries set, please tell me.”

You nodded. “I will communicate everything.”

“So will I.” She stepped back and sighed. “You look like a countess.” She giggled. “That position is available too.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought. “That would be lovely.”

Anne clapped her hands. “Yes! Wonderful. Let’s return you to the count so you can move on him.”

You walked with her and hummed a laugh. “I will try my best.” You gripped your dress a little. “His lips seem very kissable.”

Anne hugged herself. “I know what that’s like, wanting to kiss someone a lot. I’m the same with my man.” She growled. “Just wanna grab his face and cover it in smooches!”

You giggled. “Cute.”

She grinned before pausing and turning to a butler. “Where is his lordship?”

Jean smiled. “He is outside speaking with Sasha about the grounds. Fair warning, he is the king of bunnies right now.”

Anne giggled. “I love it when he is.”

You frowned a little. “King of the bunnies?”

Anne guided you out of the grand mansion home into the vast gardens. “We don’t know why, but animals seem to love the count.” She paused and allowed you to admire Levi in his black suit, cloak and mask. Around Levi was a lovely collection of bunnies gazing at him and wanting attention. On his horns sat little birds. “Whenever he goes outside they surround him.”

You gasped in delight. “So cute.”

“Go to him.”

You lifted your dress and hurried over to Levi as he talked to Sasha about the land. “Levi.”

He felt a warmth shoot through him at hearing your voice. He turned to face you and felt like he was walking on air, you were breathtaking. Every time you talked with each other, it was always in dim lighting in his room. So, this was the first time he was ever seeing you in the sunlight. He mumbled your name. “You…you look…b-beautiful.”

You looked down at yourself as if you weren’t aware of your beauty. “Thank you.” You looked a little to see a little bunny pawing at Levi’s leg. You scooped it up into your arms and saw it kick a little because it wanted Levi, but as soon as it looked at you, the bunny melted like Levi did. “Aww, such a cute little bunny.” You giggled as it started nuzzling against you. “I think it likes me.”

Levi reached over and petted the bunny. “How can it not? You’re wonderful.” He walked right up to you and petted the bunny. “I am sorry for the army of animals, they follow me around.”

“Animals are a great judge of character.” You leaned up and kissed the mask where his cheek would be. “You’re a sweet man.”

Levi felt a whole body blush. “I-I-I…uh…mmm…th-thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to walk with me?”

You placed the bunny down. “I would like that.”

He fiddled with his shirt and then started walking with you. The two of you talked so naturally as if you had known each other for years. Everything was so natural between the two of you. The more you walked and talked with each other, the more animals seemed to turn up and want Levi’s attention. After a while, he took his cloak off and placed it on the floor allowing you both to sit together. As soon as you both sat, bunnies climbed onto your laps.

You fussed the bunny on your lap and hummed. “The place is beautiful.”

“I do like my home.” He looked around then back at you. “I am glad we did this.”

“Me too.” You reached over and caressed his neck so he could enjoy the skin-on-skin contact. “I loved getting to know you more. Each time we talk about ourselves, the more my heart flutters for you.” You pulled back from him. “Sorry, I’m probably flustering you.”

Levi gazed at you. “I like that contact. You’re the only person I like touching me.”

You shifted closer to Levi. “Levi?”

He locked eyes with you as his heart raced. “Yes?”

“Can I move your mask? Just a little bit?”

He felt nervous. “I ah…I’m not nice under this.”

“I’ve seen your face before and I thought you were so handsome.”

He gazed deep into your eyes. “I believe your words that you wouldn’t lie to me but I don’t think much of myself.”

You shifted the mask to the side a bit to see his cheek which had some black marks and scales. You leaned closer and kissed his cheek and discovered it was soft and warm. You kissed again before moving the mask back. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Levi gazed deep into your eyes as he gulped a little. He reached over and caressed your cheek with the back of his clawed fingers. “Can you indulge me then in return?”

You nodded. “Sure, what is it you would like?”

He moved the bunny off his lap and got a bit nervous. “I ah…you…um…well…”

You hummed a laugh. “It’s okay, ask away.”

“I would like to h-hold you but in a specific way.”

You smiled at him. “In what way?”

He gripped his thick muscular thighs. “I w-would like y-you to sit on m-my lap with your b-back to me. I w-want to hold you f-from behind.” He looked away. “I’m s-sorry, I’m asking t-too much.”

Shame ran through him as he thought about his request, he thought he was asking too much of you. All he wanted was for you to be his bride, but you ran from a marriage so you wouldn’t want him. A pure delighted heat of excitement went through him when you crawled over and sat right between his legs before pressing your back to his chest.

You wiggled a little and smiled. “Comfy.” You lightly grabbed his wrists and then helped him put his arms around you. “Here.”

There was a slight hesitation, but hearing you give him full permission encouraged him to move. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. “Mm.” He clung tightly as his tail swished a lot. Now he was wishing he didn’t have a mask on because he wanted to nuzzle the crook of your neck. He looked around to see the two of you were alone.

You gasped when Levi’s clawed hand covered your eyes. “Levi?”

He slipped his mask off and whispered against your ear. “Keep your eyes closed and don’t move.” The heat of his breath caused you to shiver against him. “Just for a bit.”

Your senses heightened causing this moment to be all the more sensual. A gasp escaped you as Levi’s soft hot lips ran up your neck to your ear. A gentle kiss made you shiver then a playful bit on the edge of your ear made you moan. You leaned your head back as he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. His canine teeth playfully nipped your shoulder causing you to squeak.

Levi pulled back a little and saw he’d made a love bite. “A-Ah, s-sorry. I got carried away.” He pulled his mask back on. “I am sorry, I left a mark.”

You turned your head as soon as he removed his hand. “I liked it.”

He gazed deep into your eyes before tapping the forehead part of his mask against your forehead. “Good. I don’t want to scare you.”

“You don’t scare me.” You cupped his face and kissed his mask right where his lips would be. “You’re sweet and caring.”

Loving words were on his lips, but he didn’t get a chance to speak to you because a staff member came over and asked for his attention. He rose to his feet and felt sad. “I must go. Could we go on another date soon?”

You nodded. “I’d love that. Oh, your cape.”

“Keep sitting on it. You can return it later.” “I will.” You waved to him. “Bye.”

You let Anne dress you up in a cute dress and then add a pretty cape after as the spring air was cold today. As soon as you were dressed and ready, you ran through the grand mansion until you were outside to see Levi preparing a carriage to go into town. Once you saw Levi you felt excitement surge through you. “Levi!”

Levi turned and gazed at you, a sparkle of delight filled his eyes when you sprinted towards him. He called your name. “My little bunny.”

You leapt into his arms and hugged him. “Don’t go without me.”

He squeezed you before placing you on your feet. “I didn’t know you wanted to go into town. Forgive me for not thinking of you.” He whined. “I’m a bad man…”

You held his clawed hands and noticed he’d put gloves on them. “You’re a good man.” You lifted his hands. “How come you’re wearing gloves?”

“I don’t want to scare people.”

You kissed his hands. “I think they’re pretty.” You smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to going out.”

He held your hand and helped you into the carriage. He climbed in after you and closed the door. “I have work to do there, but we c-can go shopping?” He fiddled with his cloak. “M-Maybe umm…go to a café?”

You shuffled up to him. “Like a date?”

He nodded. “I-If you want to?”

“I do.”

He perked up a bit. He glanced out the window as the carriage moved into town. Shame and fear started to move through him. He grabbed the hood of his cloak and pulled it up. “Mm.”

You tilted your head. “Why the hood?”

“To hide my horns.” He sighed. “I’m ugly and frightening to look at…I don’t want to scare my people. I don’t want to scare kids, I like kids and I want to be a father someday, but I’m too scary and horrific for that.”

You smiled as your cheeks heated up. “I think you’d make a wonderful father.” You knelt before Levi and undid his cloak. “You should have faith in your people. Your staff adore you and they have seen your tail, claws and horns. Have they run?”

He shook his head. “they seem to love me more.”

You slipped his gloves off. “Have faith in them and if they judge you, well I’ll give them a stern talking to.”

He chuckled. “You’re a good person.”

You held his hands. “I will be with you every step of the way. If you want to leave, we will.”

He gulped hard and nodded. “Okay.”

You smiled. “Plus, there might be a demon kid in this town and seeing you with your horns and tail out will give them confidence.”

He perked up. “You think so?”

You nodded. “I believe.” You gasped a little. “Oh, I’m taking your cloak off and it’s cold out.”

“I wear it only to hide. I run very hot.”

A shiver ran through you, you felt pleasure in knowing he was always hot. “I bet you’re wonderful to cuddle in bed on cold nights.”

Levi’s heart skipped a beat as he heated up at your words. “I-I uh…mm…maybe I am.”

You sat next to Levi. “Have you had a girlfriend before?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.”

“Sorry I asked, it’s just you seem a little nervous around me.”

He shuffled closer to you. “Well, you’re different. I’ve had two girlfriends in the past, both were lovers and I was intimate with them. One of them was magical and is the reason why I’m cursed, she was rather cruel…” He sighed. “So, if you’re wondering if I’ve had sex and been with women, I have.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I am nervous and flustered around you because my feelings are very strong for you. I want you as my bride, but I won’t force anything.” He turned to you and held your hands. “I get so overwhelmed with my feelings for you that I just stutter and stumble on my words. I’m also conflicted, you’ve been through so much with Prince Jareth and I know I’m ugly. You deserve freedom and a good sweet love.” He blushed. “You’re giving me such a cute sweet look like you’re an innocent little bunny.”

You giggled. “Sorry, I just think you’re so sweet and I love that you’re opening up to me more.” You cupped his face. “I don’t think you're ugly and I am not pressured. I think you’re the man, or should I say demon, for me.” You hummed a laugh as Levi chuckled. “Thank you for caring so much about how I feel and the shit I’ve been through. I want you to know I feel very safe with you and my heart flutters a lot around you.” You leaned closer and then pouted hard. “I don’t like your mask, it stops me from kissing you.”

He reached up to his mask and paused a bit. “Mm…I want a kiss.”

You grabbed the carriage door before it was opened. You opened it a tiny bit and smiled at the driver. “Give us a few minutes.”

The driver bowed. “Of course”

You closed the door and turned to Levi. “We’ve made it to town.”

He gripped the edges of his mask for a moment before unclipping it and slipping it off. He stared at the mask in his hand before looking over at you. “Last time you saw me like this you were sick and weak from running through thick snow. You were a little delirious.” He turned to face you. “Am I still handsome?”

There was a sparkle in your eyes as you took in the darkly handsome Levi. You clutched your chest as you gasped. “So handsome. My heart is racing so much.” You felt yourself shaking. “I…wow…I’m shaking.”

He ran the back of his clawed fingers over your cheek. “Due to fear?”

“Excitement.”

He smiled at you causing your body to heat up. “I’m glad.” He eyed your lips. “Is kissing still on the table?”

You inhaled as he dragged you closer to him, all the worries were gone and he was overflowing with confidence. You were the one that was flustered now. His hot lips ran along your cheek towards your lips causing you to feel dizzy. When his lips touched yours you felt fireworks inside you. Your body burned and ached in pure bliss. You clung to Levi as you kissed him back. As soon as you kissed Levi back he added more passion and confidence to the kiss.

Pleasure pulsed through Levi, all he could feel was pure euphoria. The connection between you and Levi was on a special soulmate level. He could feel the bond with you just by a passionate kiss with you. He tangled his claw fingers in your hair and nipped your lip. His hot pointed tongue slipped into your mouth and massaged yours in a blissful kiss. Your bodies throbbed with pleasure as the two of you confirmed your feelings.

He pulled from your lips and kissed along your cheek to your neck. He nipped your neck with his sharp canines. He sucked on your skin and rolled his tongue over the small mark he had made. He moved back a little so he could gaze deep into your eyes. “That was…” He smiled and tapped his forehead against yours. “Please say you felt what I felt.”

You nibbled your lip as your body throbbed. “I did. It was incredible.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth. “I want to kiss you more.” He flinched when he heard a knock on the carriage door. “A-Ah, we’re needed.”

You gazed at Levi as a cute blush spread on his cheeks. “Cute.”

He lifted the mask and glanced over at you. “You’re cuter.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I also would like to kiss you more.”

His eyes widened as his cheeks got pinker. “G-Good.” He shoved the mask on his face and whined. “You fluster me, i-in a g-good way.”

“I’m glad.” You kissed Levi’s shoulder. “We should head out.”

Levi climbed out first before turning to you and helping you out. “I need you.”

You felt yourself flush. “You do?”

He nodded. “This is the first time I’m showing off my horns and tail to my people. I need the woman I care about to be at my side.”

You smiled sweetly. “Of course. I’m here always. Do you want me to hold your hand?”

He gulped hard. “Please, th-that’s if m-my claws d-don’t bother you.”

You entwined your fingers with Levi’s. “I adore them because they are part of you.”

“You make me feel so loveable.” He squeezed your hand and then led you through the town to his first stop. “People are staring.”

“They’re thinking you’re so handsome. It’s the first time they’ve seen you like this.”

He hummed. “I hope they’re not scared.” He pushed the shop door open. “I would hate that.” He stepped inside and gasped when he saw a little girl run over to him. “Ah! I n-need to h-hide.”

You crouched down and smiled at her. “Hello, what’s your name?”

She gazed at Levi and wiggled a bit. “Frida.” She reached for you. “Who is the handsome man?”

You giggled. “That handsome man is Count Levi.”

She gasped. “You’re the Count! My friend!”

Levi shifted to one knee. “You’re not scared of me?”

She moved closer to him. “Pretty.”

He reached over but say she flinched. “S-Sorry.”

She eyed his fingers. “Wow!” She grabbed his clawed fingers and giggled. “They’re big and warm!”

He held her hand. “Yes.”

She reached up and touched his horns. “They’re cute.”

You giggled. “That’s what I keep telling him.”

She pulled back and giggled. “Is she your wife?”

Levi gazed at you and felt his heart race. “N-No, but umm…maybe someday.”

Frida huffed. “You should hurry up and marry her.”

Levi looked over at you. “I would like to.”

“Your Lordship!” A bearded man with round glasses scooped his daughter up. “Is my little one causing trouble?”

Levi rose to his feet. “She’s been wonderful.”

Frida kicked her little legs. “He loves her! They’re gonna get married! She’ll be our new Countess!”

The man chuckled. “You’ll make the two of them blush.” He looked up and went quiet for a moment as he took in Levi. “Your Lordship…”

Levi backed up. “I know I look…”

“So charming and handsome!” He chuckled. “It’s lovely to finally see you, well most of you without the hiding.”

Levi wrung his hands a little. “Oh, well my face isn’t very nice.”

You giggled. “He lies, it’s very lovely and he’s incredibly handsome.”

“Th-thank you.” Levi cleared his throat. “Shall we get to work?”

The man placed his daughter down. “I have everyone gathered.” He gazed at you. “Could you watch over my daughter?”

You nodded. “I’d be happy to.”

Levi held your hands. “It’s just a meeting about trading. He is from an ogre clan and I’ve been working with them for a while. I will tell you all about it after the meeting.”

You gazed at him and looked like a sweet little bunny again. “How come you’re telling me?”

“Because you are important to me and I don’t want you to feel left out, or maybe I’m doing business and the lady has to stay away. It’s not true, okay? I want you at every possible meeting, but there is a lot to go over and you might be confused midway through the meeting.”

You hummed a laugh. “I understand.” You leaned closer and kissed his neck. “I’ll do a bit of shopping with Firda.”

He retrieved a pouch and gave it to you. “Here is some gold. Treat yourself.”

You looked inside the pouch. “This is a lot!”

“It is?” He frowned a bit. “I didn’t realise.”

You gripped the bag. “I’ll buy a few things and something for you.”

“I’d…I’d like that…”

You took Frida’s hand. “Let’s go shopping.”

Frida bounced up and down before grabbing your hand. “Yes!”

The father moved closer. “She’s perfect, your lordship. I look forward to your wedding.”

Levi felt himself blush. “Y-Yes, wedding…”

You walked with Frida outside and let her pull you along to different shops and stalls. There were a lot of sweets and food, so you bought some for Frida and a fair few things for Levi that you wanted to try with him. After a bit of looking around, you came to a stop at a jewellery shop. As you admired what they had your eyes locked onto something so perfect, it was a stunning decoration and clasps for a demon’s horns.

“Excuse me?” You smiled at the seller. “I would like to buy these please.”

The demon gazed at you, the only thing hinting they were a demon was their horns. He smiled at you. “Of course. You’re really pretty.”

You felt flustered. “Ah, mm…thank you.”

He picked up what you wanted. “He’s a lucky man.”

You handed the gold over. “Sorry?”

He placed it carefully in a wooden case lined with felt and placed it in a bag. “The demon you are gifting this to.”

You took the bag from him. “I’m the lucky one.” You bowed your head. “Thank you so much.” You hugged the bag to your chest and moved with Frida. “Where do you want to go next?”

She hummed as she ate a snack. “I want to see the count again. He’s so pretty.” She gasped when she saw a group of cats. “He’s here!”

You watched the cats go running over to Levi and make a fuss of him. “Cute.” You smiled as your heart fluttered. People flocked to Levi and showered him with compliments about his appearance. You giggled as ladies told him he was handsome and touched his muscular arms. “Very cute.”

Levi looked down at Frida as she ran over to him. “Hello…um…where is…”

Frida pointed. “She’s over there.”

Levi looked over at you and felt his whole world slow down, all the noise went and the cats meowing at him for attention went. He walked towards you as if you had this magnetic hold on him. He stopped right in front of you with a blush on his cheeks. “Did you have a nice day?”

You nodded. “It was okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

You walked closer and pressed your body against his causing him to be flustered. “It’s because you weren’t with me. Today would be perfect if you were with me.” You looked up into his eyes. “Levi.”

He whined a little as you gave him the sweet bunny luck again. “Let’s go on a date.”

You held his hand and walked with him. “Yes.”

He eyed what you were clutching. “What do you have there?”

“A gift for you.”

He blushed hard. “Th-thank you.” He pulled you closer to him. “Are you warm enough? The spring chill is still bad.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m perfect.”

He opened a café door and ushered you inside. “Good. Oh uh, pick anywhere you like and choose anything you want on the menu.”

You moved to a quiet corner. “Here okay for you?”

He pulled a chair out for you. “Anywhere is good for me as long as I’m with you.” He pushed the chair in when you sat. “I uh…that was a bit…uh…corny.”

You gazed up at him. “I liked it.” You took his hand. “Sit.”

He sat down on your left. “You look so pretty.”

You reached over and cupped his face. “I adore you.” You leaned closer and kissed where his lips would be. “Such a sweet man.”

He lowered his head. “Am I am bad person?”

You frowned a bit. “Bad person?”

He nodded. “All I can think about is locking you up in my carriage and kissing you.”

You gasped as you felt a rush of pleasure go through you. You shoved the gift into his arms, lifted the menu and hid a little. “I want that too, but f-food and a d-date.”

Levi smiled a little at how adorable you were. He opened the bag and admired the box inside with perfect carvings. “Pretty.” He unclipped the box and opened it to reveal the silver clasps with delicate and simple stones. His heart throbbed when he saw a galaxy stone on each clasp. The galaxy stones were important to demons as they were given to their lovers as an engagement gift. “I accept.”

You lowered the menu. “Huh?”

He placed the clasps on his horns so they were perfectly decorated. “The engagement.”

You stared at him. “Engagement?”

He nodded. “The galaxy stones are an engagement gift demons give to each other. I was going to get you a galaxy ring and propose, but you beat me to it.” He saw how you were staring at him. “Oh, I misread the meaning. This is…embarrassing.”

You reached over and gripped his hands. “Levi.” You lifted them and kissed his clawed fingers. “I care for you, Levi. I want you. You said it yourself, I am your bride.” You smiled sweetly at him. “Marrying you would be a dream.”

“Even with my face?”

“I will kiss it every second of every day.”

He squeezed your hands. “I will kiss every inch of your body every second of every day.” He cleared his throat. “I ah…”

You giggled. “I will hold you to that, Count Levi Ackerman.”

He placed his hand on your thigh. “Bunny lady, I am stuck as this version of me and I don’t think I can have a human form. I don’t want to hurt you because you’re a soft pretty human.”

You shifted closer to him. “I’m not fragile. I jumped out of a moving carriage and ran a whole night and day through a snowstorm.” You leaned over and kissed his ear before whispering. “I think I can make love to a handsome demon fiancé.”

Levi growled. “Bunny.”

You pulled back. “We should order something to eat, right?”

He massaged your thigh. “Yes.”

[cynettic]

Stay with Me pt.3

Summary - You manage to escape from Scaramouche, if only for a moment before you realize there’s no escape. It only takes until you’re sitting back in your regular spot that you know what you need to do.

Pairings - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of death, swearing, slight gore / blood 

A/N - Its really hard to make this depressing while I’m vibing to Rasputin. Like no joke- I have it on one of the 1 hour playlists :D

Here you’ll find -  pt.1 and pt.2

He’d left a key.

Scaramouche didnt make mistakes, not while he had you captive in the vicinity of his bedroom. He didnt have room for mistakes, not when you were watching his every movement while he was in your line of sight. 

Sure, he mightve killed a person or two in front of you, but those were necessary mistakes. There was a sign on the door, it specified not to enter. You’d understand that, right?

Thats what he thought at least, lulling himself into belief after belief that you’d be there waiting for him every time. That you’d welcome him with open arms, even if there were chains ensnaring your wrists. That you’d accept your fate at his hands and submit yourself to him.

The Balladeer was a fool.

He’d kept you there for too long, and while you searched for an easy way to escape, time sent your head spinning. Into a spiral that begged only for the wind against your face, back laying on dirt with the familiar chirping up birds waking you up in the morning.

You wanted to go outside.

And when push comes to shove, you had to risk a little more to make it happen. Lure him into bed with kisses while your hands unbuttoned his vest. But what he believed to be alluring contacts was just your way of finding the keys hidden in the back pocket of his shorts.

It wasnt hard to find the one to your cuffs while he was asleep, cuddled in your chest with both arms around your waist as if to get you to stay put. You took the key, hiding them back in his clothing and hoping he didnt notice.

He didnt say anything the next day.

You werent going to wait any longer.

“Oh for fucks sake, why won't the goddamn door open?”

The room was left in tatters behind you, a little gift for Scaramouche once he got back. Turns out a pair of chains can smash up a lot of things, and rage can be used as a great source of strength when contained for such a long time.

But you’d done more than throw the blankets around, cut up the drawers and smash open the windows. Because your fists had bled red when you punched through the glass, puncturing your skin. Your knuckles were an ugly red, bruising already.

Ah, Scaramouche deserved a much better gift.

Gruesome as it was, you rubbed your knuckles against the pale walls. Till the blood stopped coming, till there was a nice little message for the boy which you held so dearly to your heart.

‘Balladeer.’

The first time you’d found out about him being a harbinger he’d told you not to call him by that name. You weren’t someone he associated with by work, you were a treasure to him. That’s why you continued to call him as he pleased, although the temptation always arose.

You were no longer his.

Shoving the door with your hand again, palm fiddling with the handle and groaning when it hardly budged. “Stupid,” you grumbled when the knob began to loosen. Backing up, you charged with your shoulder to the door, full force as the momentum broke the hinges. The door fell down with you along with it.

It was expected, you’d been stuck in the room for a long time, and thats considering you’d sat on the ground for decades. Your body was slight numb, muscles sore and unused for so long. 

“You a-arent supposed to leave your room!”

A young man stood in the hallway along with a woman who looked relatively the same age. The two were wearing uniforms, flinching when you stood up from the debris and off the door. “Excuse me?” You asked, voice unnecessarily icy and stern. But you couldnt care less, you were going to get out of this house, damn anyone who stood in your way.

They both continued to shake when you walked towards them, staggering from side to side. The woman stepped up in front of the man, presenting a brave face. “If you leave the mansion, the harbinger will kill us all!”

“Well then I expect you should be on your way then. Actually…” you gestured to the maze of hallways. “You can lead the way.”

“What…?”

Your hand went limp to your side, an exasperated looking momentarily crossing your face before you sighed. “Im not staying trapped in that room, I’m sorry if that ruins your life, but frankly you're not the one stuck in there are you?” You took an extra step just to intimidate them, eyes wide to make the appearance of crazy. “It would be a great help if you showed me where he hid my vision too.”

“We can show you to the door…” The man began, “But the whereabouts of your vision are unknown, he wouldnt tell us something like that.”

A gift bestowed from the gods, a piece to help me thrive with my ambitions and pursue my goals.

Gone.

You really wished you’d taken to clawing out Scaramouche’s face instead, but you’d take what you got. Right now your main priority was getting out of this place, even if it meant leaving a piece of you behind.

“Door.” Your voice was raspy and there was a terrible feeling that crawled up to your throat, but you didnt have time to be emotional. “Show me where the door is… please.”

The conflict in their eyes dissipates by the time they lead you along, mumbling words between themselves. You didnt bother to try eavesdropping, you were so, so tired. You wanted to go home.

Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

It took a few minutes until you were standing in front of a grand door, almost twice the size of you and just as wide. You then began to notice the decorational plants and furniture that filled the empty space, there wasn't an inch of dust. Even though you could tell none of it was used.

“Hurry,” the man warned when you paused. “I dont know when our master is coming back, but if its soon, we’ll all be screwed.”

You couldnt feel your head as you numbly nodded, hand clenching the knob and flinging the set of doors open. “Thank you,” you merely mumbled, taking your first step out of the house in what felt like forever.

The days after that were a blur, the area around Scaramouche’s house were nothing but void. Empty and filled with forests and vast plains. You knew he didnt like people or socializing in general, but to this extent?

Your only option was to run.

Let your feet take you somewhere, anywhere. It was a constant pattern of running and taking breaks, leaning on a tree and gasping in a few breaths before you were again scurrying through the forest. 

And yet you felt better than you’d felt in past months that you’d been stuck with Scaramouche.

Food became any boar you came across, the claws you’d spent so long hiding with Scaramouche coming to unleash a wrath beyond your comprehension. Till the animal was cut to shreds and no meat was left even to eat. You’d slaughtered it, without intention to eat or benefit for it, you’d killed it just to kill.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sobbed into the ground where you’d buried the harmless animal. Forehead pressed into the dirt as you pleaded for forgiveness to whatever archons would accept it. You couldn't even remember what archons you were supposed to pray to. “Forgive me- forgive me…”

But eventually you found your way around to somewhere you knew. Territory of Inazuma where you could find your way back, back home.

Where was home?

You’d been on the run from the vision hunt decree, abandoning your post for the Kitsune Saiguu for such a thing. Even now that you could return without a vision and as no threat under the decree…

You’d sacrificed everything for your vision.

Where were you to go now…?

Rain patted down, the trees providing only a slight cover as stray drops fell into your matted dirty hair. You didnt mind, it hid the tears that slid down your lifeless face, feet taking you into the far meadows of your hometown. Till you plopped down underneath a tree, knees curled to your chest and arms hugging them close. You were crying.

You were home.

____________________

“Awh,” a ginger haired murmured, elbow resting on the cool wood of the tabletop. “Is little Mouchie sad? I heard your kitty cat escaped~”

A death wish, even fatui that idly minded themselves around the bar knew it. Sipping cold drinks and swirling their cups, the soft chatter was nothing but a distraction from the main course of events. That being the smaller Harbinger who sat sulking in his seat, hunched over with a drink in hand. He’d drank far more than what was on the counter, but everytime he finished a glass, he’d smash it on the ground, watching the fragile glass shatter into pieces.

“I dont have a cat,'' was his only response, tone daring Childe to pursue further. To give him a reason to start throwing the glass in his face instead.

And Childe was an idiot when it came to challenging someone.

“No cat?” The rest of the drink in the taller harbinger’s glass was gone when he threw his head back. “Hmmm, I cant think of what else could’ve had you so enraptured in returning home then~!”

Scaramouche didnt respond, uneven bangs shadowing the bags under his eyes. “Stronger,” he said instead, elbow on the counter and hand outstretched for something. When there was no movement from the man managing the wine, the harbinger looked up. “I need something stronger to drink,” he repeated, voice seething.

“Of c-course!”

The glass was nestled in Scaramouche’s palm in no time, fingers curling around the circular form to down it in seconds. The drink merely slid down his throat in one movement, alcohol burning his senses. It didn’t matter, he was numbed by the growing rage inside of him.

Finally, he turned to the ginger haired boy, eyes hazily dancing along the counter till it reached his fingertips. Up his hand and along his arm, till Scaramouche was staring right into Childe’s eyes. “They escaped,” he admitted softly. “But it’s alright, because I sent something that’ll bring them back.”

Childe paused, raising his drink up away from his lips to pose a question. Hesitation danced along his features before he brought the glass back, he’d rather not provoke the shorter male any further. Wasn’t like he could interfere anyway.

____________________

“That… that…” 

It was preposterous, having returned to that same spot for a day or two and heading back to the hometown you’d once lived in. The one Scaramouche had lived in. There shouldn’t have been an issue, you were solely gathering supplies for the sake of it, ambition driving you to travel far far away.

Out of Inazuma.

It was your new beginning, convincing yourself that you didn't need a vision. Finding some sort of purpose before Scaramouche shattered the vision and your life along with it. You’d seen how people had reacted when it had been ingrained in the statue, neutralized and broken. They lost hope, purpose and aspirations for anything new.

It’s not like the Raiden Shogun took my vision.

But you’d taken that fact for granted, expecting some sort of new start without Scaramouche. A victory, getting away from him just for a split second and getting out of Inazuma altogether, you’d never see him again.

Until you got his message.

“How the hell…” You crushed the note until it was just crumbled paper in your hand, slowly leaning on the stone wall. “Piece of shit… what kind of person even…” 

Not only did he manage to find you, but without making his presence known, he’d tugged at your one weakness with an ease that had you down on your knees.

You threw the paper to the ground, deliberate as you stared past the alleyway. Pensive as you considered your options. Damn, what options did you even have? You’d been an idiot to underestimate Scaramouche, he wasn’t a child, you knew that… but archons he seemed like one when he was with you. Shown you a vulnerability he wanted only you to see. But maybe that had been part of his plan all along, until all you believed was his soft demeanor.

He may act like a child, but he’s a harbinger.

You stared down at the crumbled piece of paper in disgust.

Not only that, but he has no regard for human life.

Either way, you’d lived decades more than him. You could face him, you would present yourself to him just as he expected you to. Even when everything in you rejected the idea, sobbed at the thought of returning to that house, those chains. Being locked up and confined only for the purpose of coddling a small boy, a selfish boy, a cruel boy. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’d figure out a way, and this time you wouldn’t rule out the option of his death.

———————

Oh darling Y/n, how have you been?

I hope this letter reaches you rather soon, we both have much to discuss, no? About me, about you, and much more. You see, I’ve taken up quite a distaste to your little friends. Stone statues in Inazuma as small as Kitsunes truly hold no purpose, what will they do, come back to life? Haha, I should think not. I’ve already arranged to have them demolished, who knows what kind of material they might possess. Ah, and of course I’d show you the finishing product, unless you’re willing to come and have a chat with me once more? Under the Sakura tree like we used to, you’ve waited years, I believe you can wait for me?

I hope this letter reaches you in best interests. I’m always looking out for you after all.

Sincerely, your Balladeer

——————

It was raining.

Beautiful weather as you lay sitting there, feet crossed and tucked in the same you’d often do. After all, there was no need to fear the vision hunt decree or the Raiden Shogun. Let them come, let them take care of you before Scaramouche did.

You werent cold, not when the cold drops dampened your clothing, slipping down the length of your spine and drenching your face. Despite having lived in a luxury residency for such a long time, this was where you were most comfortable, enduring whatever the weather had for you, taking it with a smile. Because you were waiting…

The Kitsune Saiguu was a distant memory.

You were waiting for Scaramouche, the young boy that often bound into the field in lengthy strides, childlike wonder in his eyes. The one who’d cried when the other kids pushed him away, the one that just wanted to be praised. You’d held him in your arms, and now, even knowing the results, you wouldnt have done differently.

He was just a boy.

Just a boy when he joined the fatui, looking for praise that he was given. He created chaos and bellowed orders with a cruelty that was highly looked upon. Told that he was doing well, so he continued to do so.

He’s just a boy.

You wished you’d held him in your arms, if not only for a tad longer. Shield him away from the wrongness of the world, if only for one last time.

Banishing away your hatred for him was hard.

But you found it under the tree, rain soon dimming down to a clouded cold breeze that swept through the meadow. You’d hated him while stuck in the mansion, but you could now see it from a larger point of view. What he did was wrong of course, but you could remember him so vividly now. His small form giggling, tiny arms around your neck. 

“Play with me!”

Was it your fault?

For not holding him tighter? For trying to rectify his bad doings and teach him what was wrong and right? Maybe if your grip was firmer, if you’d spoken to him about the warmth he’d given you that day when playing cards...

“Lazy ass.”

Burying down that pile of worry and insecurities, you took a deep breath in to relax. The edge of your lip perked up, only slightly. “Still terrible with your social skills arent you?”

Slowly securing a dry space under the three with you, Scaramouche sat down. His features were the same ones you’d grown accustomed to at his mansion. Rich clothes, sharp eyes, and the baby face that refused to go away. His movements were soft as he pulled out a deck of cards. The two of you didnt speak as he distributed them between you both. It was tense… no, it felt too much like the warmth form long ago to be tense. You only wished the situation to be different.

“I love you.”

But you could only offer a bitter smile to his words. “I love my vision,” you replied. “I love the Kitsune Saiguu, and I love my friends.”

His touch was gentle when his fingers came to gently cradle your cheek. Holding your face dearly as he peered into your eyes, his were soft. Different from the cruelty he held within, the hatred that burned and destruction that seeked to explode.

You saw a little boy.

Your hand came to press his hand further against your cheek, till you slid his palm to your lips. He appeared so calm when you pressed the first kiss, lips tracing the lines along his palm with all the care in the world.

But you needed to change your view, see him as the man he now was. As the man he had become.

“I love you,” he repeated, and you let go of his hand. It fell limp by his side, cards all but forgotten. There was a much more pressing matter at hand, because you truly needed to see him as he was.

It was necessary if you planned to kill him.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 01x21

Salvation

“Was this show ever at risk of being cancelled in S1? I like the show but the backstory is a little frustrating” “They haven’t done the eye shutter click thing yet” “goddamn. Semantics.” “John has such a distracting personality. The boys always do research and stuff, but they’re just waiting around for John to talk. He has very anxious energy around him. He’s probably good to have before a fight, but to have before a fight and doing research, he seems a bit extra” big man truck

“Are you ready for judgement day? Also the lottery is at 1.7 million. Nothing like having Jesus and the lattery on the same sign. Murica” “What kind of truck is that? Sierra Grande” “See what I mean? John gets a call. He pulls off the road in some sort of rage-fit, and he hits the back of the truck. He’s not handling this well. I feel like you’ve been hunting for years; you’d think he’d be able to handle this kind of grief better. He’s making the boys guess on what happened - he’s making them go through this whole song-and dance.” “Creepy” “Check ALL the kids” “John is so emotionally driven or whatever. It does not mix with the militaristic style very well. Plus, he’s got the crotch stimulator steering wheel cover.” “What a fkn mess”

“Yeah like an EMT would get out of this truck? Maybe off-duty but idk” “Gotta lay off the shrooms bro” “heavy breathing train” “What a fkn coincidence” “Let’s just be creepy and ask her how old her kid is” “that wasn’t weird at all” “fkn Toyota commercial right there” “hey look a doll! Oh it’s a real baby. Never mind.” “Such a look of doubt there” “As if you’re going to pick up you asshole” “Got him” “idk what you’re talking about” then laughed

“That was a good joke” “Doesn’t she shoot the demon next to her with the fake gun and then say nice fake gun?” “I guess they haven’t worked with demons much yet” “Talking like an already-dead man” “Awful lot of wet inside of your gun case, buddy. I wonder how many times they had to take that shot. They spend all that time cleaning guns, and they’re wet rusty and crusty just like John’s attitude” “brown baggin’ a colt. Nice” “4 left now” “So wait they’re so excited to fight together, but this demon is going to come around midnight but John has to go see Meg?” “That was a quick drive” “There’s gotta be something on the lore somewhere about the demons knowing about the markings on the gun, because John is giving them an unmarked one” “Two dudes sitting in a car. Alone. Outside of a house. No big deal.” “Nice red backlighting. Clever use of lighting” “He was inside. Now he’s outside climbing the ladder” “Do you have to leave your crucifix in the water?” “Talking like you’re already dead again” “Was the quip about his good looks supposed to be a joke? I don’t see it” “It’s the other way round from what I remembered” “Except it was a real gun. Maybe that’s why she said it was funny” “Why isn’t John running? What a cocky SOB. He’s gotta get a reaction out of them? Goddamn” “You already know what that means - move the fuck on” “Didn’t have slash proof tires of your prepper truck? Goddamn” yellow eyes!

“See that was a more appropriate reaction from the family. You had 2 random dudes in your house so what do you do? You run to get the baby and fight the intruders” “rarwaewrra. Sam gets his little pit bull syndrome then Dean pats him on the head to say it’s alright bud” “So they have 3 bullets left. I intend to keep track” “I feel like Dean’s normal reaction would be to slap Sam but he just take it and talks Sam down a lot” Maybe if it was anyone other than Sam “Maybe I just don’t understand the brother thing”

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 309 Spoiler Thoughts: Izuku and Inko Midoriya, and Some More Things Along The Way

The chapter leaks are here again!  Thanks to all the people on Twitter and here on Tumblr for providing us with scans and translations.  This chapter helps explain some things that a lot of us were wondering about.  Sadly, there’s still no Bakugo, or Shoto, or any other UA kids really; they’re only in flashbacks.  But, we do get to see what All Might and the Top 3 Heroes (Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist) are up to, so that’s something.  Anyway, remember to take what I say with a grain of salt until the official translations come out on Sunday:

The chapter starts a few minutes after Deku beat Muscular.  He’s flying through the air taking an unconscious Muscular tied up in his Black Whip.  The other Ketsubusu Academy students from the Lisence Exam see him too.  Thankfully the stubborn civilians from 2 chapters ago are willing to help Yo Shindo recover in exchange for not listening moving to the school shelters.  Also, Shindo’s barely conscious, but he does actually remember Deku.  He’s just not the same Deku as before.  Not much for me to say here except that I wonder if Shindo’s going to help spread the word about Deku’s actions.  Not just to his classmates, but I wonder if the words’ going to get out to the news and UA.  Actually, word might not even get that far since Shindo was only one of the few people in that exam that really even interacted with Deku...

Deku hands Muscular over to the police for them to take care off.  He also makes sure to cover himself up in Smokescreen to hide his identity.  So, Deku really is working in the shadows here.  It is best that the public doesn’t know what Deku is doing so that the LoV don’t track him down.  My man’s really going down the Batman route.  Oh, I also have to admire Deku’s smartphone here kept in this steel case.  I was going to say it’s a burner phone, but burner phones break easily for a reason and this one clearly doesn’t.  Maybe it’s a special one that can’t be tracked down.    

And we finally get to see All Might again!  He is actively working with Deku instead of just not knowing where his protege is.  He’s wearing casual clothes (jacket, jeans, sunglasses, the works) when he meets up with Deku in an alleyway.  I’m honestly glad that All Might is still supervising Deku.  I mean, Deku on his own would’ve been badass, but when you’re going up against people like AFO and Shigaraki, you’re going to need some help.  Especially when laying low.  Even with supervision, I still think Deku counts as a vigilante b/c I don’t think his license works if he’s not at UA.  I will believe this unless proven otherwise.  

It’s explained that the “wrapping” on Deku’s arms are actually gauntlets called “Mid-Gauntlets”, which are what are helping hold Deku’s arms together.  And they are VERY similar to the gauntlets that Melissa Shield from Two Heroes gave Deku.  Deku even says that All Might ordered them from the USA before travel restrictions were put in place.  I know that it’s only implied, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Deku’s new gauntlets were made by Melissa.  Even if you want to doubt it, at this point, Two Heroes (and by extension Heroes Rising and probably the upcoming 3rd movie, World Heroes Mission) are canon.  Honestly, I’m cool with it.  I liked Melissa and I’m glad her presence is still around (she was even in a Team-Up Mission chapter with Hatsume).  I do wonder if we’re ever going to see her in the main story.  It would be nice to see Melissa again.

The gauntlets are test samples and are used to enhance endurance.  All Might says that they can’t withstand 100% of OFA yet.  Which means that Deku actually beat Muscular with less than 100% unlike their first fight where Deku had to use over 100% just to knock him out.  So, does this mean that, say, Deku’s current 45% is stronger than his 100+% back in the Forest Camp?  Or maybe it was just the combo of moves and strategy rather then Deku just punching his way through things.

Small detail, but All Might’s phone goes off with that “I AM HERE” ringtone we heard before and Deku comments that this particular one is from All Might’s Silver Age TV Special!  It’s such a small thing, but I love that Deku still has that All Might fanboy in him despite everything 💚!  Somethings truly never change.

And back to the Top 3: Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist!  Endeavor and Best Jeanist are teaming up to kick a villain’s ass while Hawks is talking to All Might on the phone.  It looks like Hawks got a few costume changes particularly his visor/glasses which look more boxy than they did before if that makes sense.  Oh, and they’re also helping All Might work with Deku.  Makes sense since all three vowed to help take down Dabi earlier and Shigaraki and AFO definitely extend from that.

Deku’s Danger Sense is going off, so he’s probably going to check out any danger he can find in case it’s the LoV.  I do wonder if that harms Deku still.  It was said that it felt like a stabbing in his head and it must’ve been bad enough for the 4th OFA Holder to live in the forest away from society.  Man, I really hope our boy is ok (I know he’s not really, let me have this).

But yeah, Hawks (still wingless, but with a nice little undercut btw😳) explains that Deku's afraid of dragging other people in his battles like All Might.  Hawks also goes on to say that it’s best to take the initiative in taking down AFO and Shigaraki rather than waiting for them to appear all powered up.  He also wants All Might to keep supporting him despite the difficult position he’s in (remember that All Might’s technically Qurikless again and can’t really fight on his own).  It makes sense for them to go after the Villains again while they can.  If Deku fought Shigaraki while Shigaraki was at full strength, Deku would lose easily.  Even at 75%, Shigaraki was able to kill and injure A LOT of people, and Deku was lucky to even make it out there alive.  They need to find Shigaraki SOON!  

Flashback to Central Hospital before Deku jumped UA ship!  Recover Girl and Central Hospital’s high-tech were responsible for many of the patience recovering quickly and being discarged.  Deku was just there a little longer than the others.  So, we can assume that all our UA kids and some notable heroes made it out alive after being treated.  Still don’t know what happened to some people like Tamaki and Fat Gum tho 😭.  

All Might and Deku’s mom, Inko (thank god she’s ok), are by Deku’s bedside as his casts are taken off.  Deku’s doctor (who looks like Super Mario/Luigi; the whole Super Mario crew must run this damn place.  Where’s Bowser and Princess Peach) explains that despite his former warnings about his ligaments, Deku’s limbs are still functioning because he’s not the same as he was before.  So, before, Deku’s injuries were like his limbs were exploding from the inside, but this time those “explosions” were able to escape his body.  Also his Black Whip cast helped keep Deku’s arm in tact so that he wouldn’t pulverize himself.  His ligimates are still degrading too, so Deku still has to be careful.  I think he might have a few more small scars too, but that could just be shadows or muscle lining from Horikoshi’s pen-work.  

Ok, honestly, I’m not sure how this logically works...  I’m no medical professional, but I assume this means that Deku’s built his body up so much that it’s naturally able to withstand more damage than before and that’s why he’s more durable.  But, I don’t know how Deku was able to let the “explosions” escape this time.  I get the reverse; I get how he got injured before, but I don’t get this.  Was it the Black Whip brace he made for himself?  I honestly don’t really understand this.  Maybe the official translations will clear this up.  Or Horikoshi will in a Tweet or Volume Extra.

And Inko is finally informed of OFA thank the gods!  She was in the top of my list of “People who should really, really know OFA and what’s going on with Deku because I swear...”.  She’s clearly shaken up as anyone would be, but I’m glad she at least knows what’s going on with her son.  Yes, she’s still worried, but at least she can stop guessing why all this is happening.  

Deku announces the reason why he won’t go back to UA and it’s basically that Shigaraki can sense where Deku is and he doesn’t want to see anyone else close to him get hurt and/or die.  So, basically what I thought would be the reason.  Absolutely no surprise there.  But, going after Shigaraki and AFO first was originally Deku’s idea, so that’s something new.  Kid’s bold.

And this broke my heart 💔!  Inko insists that Deku stay with her to stay safe, but Deku knows what he has to do.  So, he thanks his mom, thanks her for making him happy, and tells her that he’ll be ok and that he’ll come back home with a somber smile on his face.  We see a flashback to Little Deku and Inko too when they were happier.  Bro, I don’t even know what to say.  I am in tears just writing this 😭  I’ll just post these two panels so y’all can cry with me.  I will never recover from this.  I’m fucking devastated.  You better come home, Deku: 

*sniffs* All Might remembers what he said to Inko.  He remembers how he said that he will protect Deku with his life.  All Might encourages Deku to go and he says that he’ll go with him with tears in his eyes.  He asks the Top 3 to help with this mission (finding Dabi) as their own mission coincides with Deku’s (finding Shigaraki and AFO).  I’m so glad all these adults are staying by Deku’s side throughout this.  It’s good to know that Deku still has support, though I wish it were from some of his friends too.  Maybe one day.

Deku goes to see Grand Torino in his hospital room to talk to him about OFA.  He mentions his friend and 7th Holder Nana Shimura.  Torino thinks he was responsible for killing Shigaraki (he really wasn’t let's be real).  He also tells Deku that Deku shouldn’t be so persistent in saving Shigaraki as killing can sometimes lead to salvation. Ok, few things:

1. I am surprised Grand Tarino is still alive.  I mean, we don’t know what happened to him after this talk, but at least he got to hear from Deku again.  It’s kind of nice to know that Tarino willingly passed down his cape to Deku too instead of Deku just taking it after his death.  Also, I’ve been watching some of Jujutsu Kaisen like everyone else has and this give me some Yuji & his grandfather vibes to it.  Knowing what happens there and that JJK’s magaka is good friends with Horikoshi, I have a sinking feeling I know what happened after this talk...

2. Deku looks so much older here.  Like, it’s not that cute, innocent baby face we knew at the beginning.  I don’t even know what it is exactly (maybe the eyes), but he just looks more mature here.  Also, his uniform some buttons down looks really good on him, I’m sorry but I need to mention that too 💚.

3. “Killing is a means towards salvation”.  Oh, boy...  I mean, I get it.  Some people just can’t be saved or captured in hopes of rehabilitation/redemption.  Sometimes killing people is necessary to save others.  But, Deku is not a killer.  He will try to save Shigaraki no matter what.  That was established again last chapter.   He tried to save Muscular for god’s sake.  But, I am curious if Gran Tarino’s words are going to hold any weight in the final fight. Like, will Deku have to kill Shigaraki?  What will that do to Deku as a person?  I’m really curious if Horikoshi is going to make Deku do this.

And finally, there’s a page showing off the Top 3, Deku, and All Might team up with the resolve to beat the LoV.  I am really interested to see where this goes.  Deku is working with the big Pro Heroes instead of his classmates/friends.  This hasn’t really happened before.  I also wonder if Shoto and Bakugo know what Deku’s doing then.  Because Shoto’s going to help Endeavor and his family find Dabi.  Endeavor’s activley helping Deku.  Also, Endeavor and Best Jeanist are both Bakugo’s mentors.  All Might too actually.  Look, maybe I’m making excuses to see my Origin Trio together again, but I do have to wonder if Shoto and Bakugo are involved somehow.

Welp, that’s it.  This chapter was a rollercoaster!  I was excited, I was confused, I was worried, I cried my eyes out at one point because THOSE TWO PANELS I CANNOT 💔😭!  I’m honestly just waiting for Horokishi to drop some major time-skip on us at some point.  I don’t want him to, but I won’t be entirely surprised if he does.  The end of this chapter is a good place to end if Horikoshi wants to segway into something else like, oh IDK, THE UA KIDS LET ME SEE THEM AGAIN HORIKOSHI PLS I’M BEGGING 💸  

Me @ Horikoshi almost every week:

[utterlyinevitable]

Pre 1, 3, 7

General 2, 5, 9

Domestic 2,4,8

Love 3,6,8

For ya girl Becca and Ethan!

Oh anon, thank you so much!💕

>  ship questions < 

PRE RELATIONSHIP

1. How did they first meet?

Her intern year of residency during an emergency tracheotomy. 

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Naveen and Alan were team E&B from the beginning. These two dad’s saw how she brought the stoic attending back to life. Harper was worried at the beginning but once she got to understand their dynamic she was really supportive. 

Sienna has wanted these two together since first year of residency - tbh some of her hype was also because of how attractive she found Ethan to be, and the girl wanted to vicariously live through her lucky friend. 

Becca’s mom advised against it. She wanted her daughter to find happiness... but with her boss? 10 years older than her? Are we sure it’s not some teenage crush culminating into lust? Live in sin. Sleep with the man but don’t get tied down. Focus on yourself and your career. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

my default was to write about hannah my bryce mc

If Becca had never met Ethan... which would mean Becca didn’t get matched to Edenbrook... She would still buy tickets to his speaking events that were within reach; he’s her medical hero after all. Romantically, she’d get involved with another resident but keep it casual. She wants to travel the world and does a few tours with Doctors Without Borders. She takes a research fellowship in another country. She starts a life and likes living it but there’s this sort of restlessness so she doesn’t stay in one place longer than four years. When her research gets published in a book deal she takes that opportunity to take a sabbatical and move closer to her mom. When she’s home she runs into an old flame and debates settling down. He works in tech start ups and she’s a doctor. They both have a lot of pride in their work and in one another. They don’t have children but do get a dog. It’s a nice life and they both retire relatively young. 

Ethan would continue to live a solitary life. He’d go into a deep depression after Naveen died and step away from his role for a while. He’d run away, probably with the WHO for a few long tours to help him make sense of his failures. He’d be beaten down and would devote whatever was left of his life to solving Naveen’s case and honoring his legacy. He’d be half-assed involved with a few women but none would stay. No one could get into his heart like Becca was able to infiltrate it.  

GENERAL

2. Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

If you ask Becca, she’d say their first date was when he asked her if she’d like to join him for a late-dinner in his office and discuss Naveen’s case. Even though they were still in the hospital, and even if they were eating out of plastic containers, she wouldn’t have expected anything else. They also spoke about every but the case at hand. Really, Becca can’t even recall if Naveen’s file was even in sight that evening. 

Ethan would say their first date was the one at the middle of second-year when he finally asked her to a proper restaurant. It was expensive, romantic and had a dress code - to which he wanted to not make dinner and tear the dress right off of her. Conversation and wine flowed freely, and they made a little challenge to order for the other. And they both got the orders right. A few tables over a couple got engaged and Becca made a joke about this place being too romantic of a place to bring colleagues. They hadn’t defined what they’re doing at that point. 

Their real first date wasn’t official. It was a few weeks after the gala and Ethan’s grand romantic gesture. He off handedly invited her over for dinner. He cooked, they ate, cuddled on the couch watching a documentary, then she went home. Well, went to go home. He asked her to stay, so she did. 

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Ethan is 6′6 and Becca is 5′9. 

They’re 10 years and 2 months apart. 

9. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Ethan is by far the one to whisper it - to put the words out in the open for anyone to hear in his gruff baritone. 

Becca is unabashedly text the things to him all day. Multiples times throughout the day. Sometimes she’ll send visual help. 

Slowly but surely Ethan’s come around to like texting. 

DOMESTIC

2. What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

They were going to have a big wedding. She always dreamed of having everyone she loves in one place - she’s always liked family reunions and what’s a happier time than to get all dressed up and see everyone? But things didn’t pan out that way. 

They had a huge fight about how it was all getting to be too grand and too much for Ethan to deal with. And so he left. Left Becca alone in the apartment with her binders strewn all over the dinning room. He came back a few hours later and packed a bag. 

Made her pack one too. 

They got married, just the two of them, at city hall in New York the next afternoon. 

They didn’t tell anyone. They still planned their big show wedding and no one was the wiser. Except for the ordained minister who they told when explaining why they didn’t actually need someone ordained to perform the ceremony.  

4. Do they have any pets?

They have a labradoodle named Jenner. When Jenner passes they don’t get another dog until their son is five. They adopt a rescue boxer named Laila.  

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

Ethan hates the holidays, but he makes an exception for Becca. They willingly work Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve/Day and New Years day - they’re on shift together and these days never held much weight for them. The weekend before Christmas they see Becca’s mom and family for their annual gathering. Then they spend Boxing Day with Alan and Naveen. All holidays are always low-key and surrounded by loved ones. 

When they have kids they’re established in their careers enough to take any and all holidays off to celebrate with their babies. 

LOVE

3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

Becca. She makes sure they’re extra cheesy and she only starts using them once they’re already seeing one another. 

I’m fairly certain Ethan doesn’t know what a pick up line is 🤣

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

Becca’s the little spoon. Ethan is always the big spoon; he cannot fall asleep unless she’s laying on his arm and one of his hands is cupping her boob. 

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

They’re both kinda terrible at it since they’re both stubborn, emotionally stunted beans. Though it would be Becca. Just because her form of comfort is touch - hugging, holding his hand or squeezing his thigh, rubbing his back, kiss to the temple, just being there things. 

Ethan’s go-to is to make the situation better. So instead of comfort he goes into strategic mode. Over the years he’s gotten better at it and now knows when she needs solutions and when she just needs hugs and support. 

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (2/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: As always, feedback is very much appreciated. 

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

"Hey! Are you alive?"

Levi's body was on fire. Another type of pain, added to the list that only grew longer and longer the more mornings he woke up to.

It was new. In the grand scheme of things though, it was routine. When Levi woke up, the pain was already fading into a distant memory. He knew it could be easily soothed with a Tylenol and a few more minutes in bed. He had to press his face harder into the pillow, focusing on the feeling of cloth and cotton on his face to get a grip on his reality. He wanted to hear that voice again but at the same time he wanted to escape that pain.

That voice was familiar. Levi was sure when he showed up for training she would be there, and he could listen to her again. He ended up adding salt to the wounds though as he remembered the last few things he had said to her the night before.

It could have been from the stress of the whole ordeal or the embarrassment of having blurted out a bunch of nonsense.

Who the hell are we escaping from? Levi had scrambled for an answer then. What came out were a string of words he wished he had never said.

“Nothing.”

“Hey, I’ve spent a lot of time talking, I wanna learn something about you too.”

“My life is none of your business.”

She had kept quiet soon after. As Levi recalled how she had offered to take him home, he only buried his face further into the pillow. A part of him thought that maybe if he deprived himself of oxygen enough, he could forget the conversation between them.

“How far is your house from here? I’ll take you home. It’s my fault you got injured anyway.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure you’ll get home safe?”

“Why do you care? We just met. I couldn’t care less either if you got home safe or not.”

We just met. Obviously I wouldn’t care too much about her. His meager justification did nothing to placate the guilt that had taken over him, leaving him unable to move.

He remembered the face she had made before he turned away and limped home. He had thought to himself then that maybe she just wore her heart on her sleeve. Most people probably would have thought the same thing as they saw the way she bit her lip and looked away. She could have been about to cry. Levi could not help but think though that she wouldn’t. Her mental resilience is stronger than that. Levi just knew.

Either way, Levi still regretted his actions that night. He spent the next few minutes in bed gathering himself up mentally for his morning training. As he pushed himself into a sitting position and planted his feet on the floor next to his bed, he felt his knees protest at the weight. At that moment, the dull pain on his palms also made themselves known.

Of course it wouldn’t heal. How long has it been 12 hours? When injured, most of his teammates could easily skip training with little to no consequences, as long as they sent a text. Most of his teammates still showed up anyway to watch. Feeling a little guilty for having skipped training just yesterday, Levi decided to show up anyway.

It was a force of habit more than anything for Levi to throw his jacket and shorts on, grab his gym bag and hurry to the track as soon as he saw the first signs of the sun about to rise. In fact, he only realized how completely useless it was to be thirty minutes early when he was already sitting alone in the empty clubroom, entertaining himself by looking for patterns in the stains and discolored blots on the ceiling.

He considered going back to the dorm and just informing his coach on his recent injury. He had already exited the clubroom when he decided otherwise.

The track stretched out in front of him, illuminated by the dim light from the sunrise. The morning was notably cooler and Levi remembered that summer was ending soon, if it hadn’t ended yet. The days would only get colder and classes were starting next week. How long would he be able to enjoy a morning walk without having to wear an extra layer or without considering how he could fit in a shower before his next class?

Levi ignored resistance of the stitches on his knees and the stinging pain of sweat and bandages rubbing against his palms, allowing himself a slow jog around the oval. He promised himself instead to sit out the rest of the training. His coach would probably stop him anyway when he sees the state of Levi’s hands and knees.

“Levi!”

It turned out Levi was right. Time had gone faster as Levi focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the cool wind that brushed past him and the scenery that blurred past him. Also, his coach had stopped him as soon as he arrived.

“What happened to you?” Greg gave Levi a onceover before shaking his head.

“I fell while jumping on the hurdles.”

“Get that checked. I’m not allowing you to join training until you see a doctor.”

Levi looked down to see blood seeping from the white of the bandages. His stitches split open. He could barely give his coach a nod, too disappointed by being forced out of training, a little angry at Hange for indirectly causing that energy, too conflicted by his own feelings. He grabbed his phone which he had left on the table next to the track and walked away from the track.

He had to grab the gym bag he left in the club room. He made sure to take the long way back, the scenic route with more trees than people. Having just been told off by his coach, having been barred from training, Levi felt like he was taking a walk of shame and he preferred not to run into anyone else.

He checked his phone. It was six in the morning. The university clinic opened at eight. He could kill those two hours quickly in the empty clubroom while everyone was training. By the time they finished morning training, he would be on his way to the clinic.

He had plans of just lying on the bench for the next two hours, exhausting all the content in all of his social media timelines and maybe getting into some other Wikipedia or article black hole. On his way to the clubroom, he set his alarm for 7:45 that morning.

As he arrived in the clubroom though, he found himself occupied by something else.

Everyone in the club always put their stuff away in the cubbyholes to the side. There was more than enough space for everyone. Yet somehow, even with three cubby holes open, someone had decided to leave their bag half open on the floor with what looked like half its contents spilling out.

Levi gathered what had spilled out. He had the option of just dropping it into the bag leaving the problem of organizing it to the owner. His fastidiousness took over though and Levi found himself spreading out the contents of the bag and putting it into the bag in a way that would have made it take the least space in the cubby.

“Sorry. I forgot my phone in my bag.”

Levi heard footsteps and voices just outside the clubroom and it was only then was he become aware of the fact that he had invaded someone’s privacy. He hurriedly pushed the contents of the bag into the nearest cubbyhole.

His hands though were not at their strongest, still sore from the accident last night. It was at the moment the door opened did the bag fall again on the floor, its contents spilling out, more haphazardly and messily than he had found it.

He looked up at the door to see Hange and behind her, another student.

"Levi…" Hange’s mouth was turned up in a smile but her eyes were expressing otherwise.

Levi wondered what he looked like crouched down next to her bag, with its contents spread out all over the room. From the way Hange was staring at him, he guessed he could have even looked like a criminal. "I made a rule here. All bags go in the cubbyhole," Levi tried to keep an authoritative tone as he said it, maybe it could make up for the compromising position they had found him in, somehow.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." Hange rushed beside him, carelessly gathering things into one bundle.

Levi noticed she kept herself a polite distance from him, purposefully pushing her bag into one of the cubbyholes farther away from where her bag had fallen.

"Just don't mess up the clubroom again."

Levi lay back on the bench as soon as the door closed behind him and propped his phone on his face. He could not even bring himself to even turn it on and lazily scroll through some timeline.  As he listened to the footsteps get further away, Levi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  The rush of incomprehensible emotions had left him cold as he lost one of the few opportunities he did have to talk to her.

Why? Why couldn't I chase after her?

A part of him wanted to run after her, apologize then maybe thank her for last night.

A part of him was also just as pissed off with the chain of events. He was injured. He couldn't train. The club room was a mess. Hange had something to do with all of it.

His four years living in his own tiny island with only training and studies keeping him company had left him unable to process the strong emotions that came with human interaction.

Why does she make me so angry?

He was aware that he was abrasive and sometimes too frank. It had never bothered him then. He had always believed that it was also the other party's responsibility to handle their emotions well.  Hange had handled it better than many other people in similar positions yet...

Why do I care that it hurt her? How the hell did I say something so offensive so wrong?  In fact despite his inability to express a lot of feelings, Levi did care enough about people to check on injured teammates and help grandmas cross the street.  

He turned his phone on, deciding to occupy himself with Twitter for the next two hours. Watching people fight online was oddly calming.

                                A Tale of Two Slaves

By the time Levi made it to the university clinic, the bandages on his knees were bloody. The red buds had bloomed into adult flowers. Underneath, the stitches had to be redone, and Levi was prescribed antibiotics to prevent infection.

One of the nurses offered to go out of campus to buy it for him. Levi hid under the covers of one of the vacant beds in the nurse's office while waiting. The clinic was empty save for one nurse and one doctor with not many students living on campus just yet.

Levi found himself going through his timeline first, then articles on dreams.

By the time the doctor had checked on him, to ask him if he had plans to at least take a late lunch, Levi was in a black hole with 50 tabs open. They weren't about dreams or were they from random links he had found on his timeline.

They were all about Hange Zoe, pages worth of articles with pictures of her at varying ages. The awards varied, some were in the form of certificates, others as trophies. The girl behind them all was the same chestnut haired girl with that same overenthusiastic glint in her eyes.

Kid whiz Hange Zoe bags gold in the city wide

Governor congratulates the representative to the national Science symposium.

7 year old genius has big plans for the future.

Hange Zoe talks about future plans. "I want to test the physical limitations of the human body."

I wanna see how far we can throw, how fast we can run, how high we can jump, how high we can fly.

"Fucking stupid. Humans can't fly." Levi muttered to himself. He sat up in bed and checked the time at the corner of his phone.

3:00pm.

Afternoon training would generally start at five. He had time for a late lunch. Or dinner.

Nothing in the university was open though and the raw stitches on his knees continued to ache. Levi found himself staying in the club room two hours before training was to start, having Mcdonalds delivered instead at the doorway of the clubroom.

A few times he had heard footsteps by the door, he stood up the first two times, just to check who it had been. The clubrooms were lined up near the athletics area. All the sports teams hung around that area, he should not have been too surprised to realize that none of the foot traffic in that hour were from anyone in his team. In fact, he should not have expected that any of them would have been Hange.

Why the hell am I looking for her anyway?

Levi shifted to his side. The bench did not give him much room to roll completely and Levi found himself having to grasp at the sides to stay on the bench and avoid falling painfully on the ground and further aggravating his stitches.

With his two hands occupied, it became a choice. Either his knees or his phone was to take the impact of the ground beneath him. He chose to sacrifice his phone.

As Levi reached out to grab his phone from under the bench a few seconds later, he came across a small trinket on the floor. It was a ring was covered with purple cloth, the middle of the ring covered with some sort of web. The borders were lined with feathers, soft to his touch. Levi wondered whether the feathers were real or not.

Levi sat back on the bench and brought the keychain closer to his eyes. It turned out the ring was not covered in cloth. It was covered in threads so pressed closely to each other, from afar it had looked like one surface. He carefully traced the dark green strings that were interwoven so tightly around the purple cloth, no pattern was the same, no hole was of the same size or shape. It could have been homemade.

Who the hell left this here? Levi took a picture with his phone and sent it to the team chat.

Lost and Found.

Most had denied owning it. For a while Levi suspected that they could have been scared he would get mad. He knew he had a reputation when it came to cleaning and clutter. He was considering adding that he wasn’t angry eventually deciding against it. Would they believe him anyway?

One of the med students probs.

So it’s Hange’s?  It was an excuse to message her at least. Before Levi could even process what he did, he had searched Hange’s name on Facebook.

No account. He would have at least expected to find a profile with one or two mutual friends. They went to the same school after all. He checked the school supergroup to find that no one there was named Hange Zoe.

So she doesn’t have an account?

He looked through other groups built for their team. He looked for a medical students group, looking one by one at the profiles for a familiar face. One of the profiles had the face of the blond man who was behind Hange when they had found him that morning.

Levi had a habit of forgetting faces. The awkwardness and the embarrassment he had gone through had only made that memory more vivid in his mind. That vividness at least was the reason why he had found a lead to Hange.

Moblit Berner.

He clicked add friend and sent a picture of the keychain through chat.

Found this in the clubroom. Might be one of your friends?

It’s Hange’s.

Probably fell when her stuff got scattered on the floor.

Okay, will give it to you when you get here.

As Levi soon found out, the students were all out of campus and had no plans to visit training that afternoon at all. The main reason why they had showed up in the morning instead.

Levi scolded himself for not even bothering to learn their schedule. Maybe it could have alleviated his disappointment even a bit. Seeing no reason to be there in the clubroom anymore. Levi dropped a message in the chat, mentioning something about injuries and rest.

He wasn’t lying. His stitches were fresh. His palms hurt. More importantly. He was recovering from a painful bout of disappointment.

We’ll be there tomorrow morning though.

Ok see you there.

Levi had plans of making it up to his coach the next morning by being extra early anyway.

                              A Tale of Two Slaves

I wonder what types of titans we'll get to meet today...

It was a beautiful morning. Or possibly, it was just a relatively beautiful morning when compared to all the others where Levi had to lie in bed for an hour or so just to forget the pain and the shock of dreams he could not even remember to function.

That morning he had awoken with a burst of energy and a motivation that followed suit.

I wanna talk to Hange.

The only stopping him then was the awareness of how stupid and rash it would be to make friends just because he had such a vivid dream about them.

Section Leader Hange Zoe.

Special Squad Captain Levi .

They worked too closely in his dreams. She was constantly happy, constantly annoying. She was comfortable. She had made him feel excited, calm, annoyed, an incomprehensible and tumultuous storm of emotions. The dreams were too lifelike, realistic and vivid to have just been dreams.

Was she the reason for the painful mornings? Was she the reason Levi found himself so particularly confused around her? So abrasive? So conflicted?

Levi quickly changed into his clothes, grabbed his gym bag and rushed to the track. He did not bother to check his phone for the time anyway. The sun was rising and Moblit had said the night before. They’ll be there.

He used the walk to the track to process further the emotions that had been running through him since he remembered the dreams.

His name was Levi Ackerman. He was a soldier. They fought these giant zombie creatures. Hange managed another team but they were stationed close and that was how they had gotten close in the first place.

It felt like some sort of roleplay Levi could just easily put into words and post online. He wondered if that’s what it felt like to be a writer. Do stories come to writers and artists in dreams just like that? Levi had considered writing it all out, completely disowning that thought after he remembered he was shitty with words.

He probably would never channel those emotions into words or to art. Regardless, the determination to make sense of it was unwavering. Despite his awareness of the amount of stress he had caused her the past few days, the nagging self consciousness of having exposed that many facets of personality to someone, Levi was sure he wanted to talk to her. It was too strong. She must have felt it too. Maybe that’s why she was too friendly? Too touchy?

As Levi soon found out, she was touchy with a lot of other people. If Levi had checked his phone that morning, he would have seen that training was starting soon. With autumn coming, the nights were long and the sun was rising later.

Hange was there, by the side of the track, her arms around Elijah, one of his other teammates and fellow seniors. From where he stood, Levi could not tell if she was joking or not, but he could not help but note, he had never been the object of that playful smile she gave Moblit who stood next to her with a clipboard in hand.

“Hey Four Eyes.” Levi did not need to muster up any courage to approach her. The irritation he felt at seeing her arm around someone else, that playful smile directed at Moblit provoked him enough.

Hange’s face quickly fell as she made eye contact with him. Levi’s stomach followed suit, suddenly painfully aware of the shit he had put her through the past few days.

“Oh yeah, Levi found your dream catcher in the clubroom.”

The keychain! Levi had completely forgotten to bring it with him.

“Sorry about leaving it there. I shouldn’t have been too careless.” Hange’s smile was careful and rehearsed, a far cry from the one she gave Moblit only a while ago.

“I don’t have it with me now though since I had to rush here.” Levi was sure the excuse was understandable. A lot of his teammates were already warming up in the middle of track. “I could bring it later this afternoon?”

“Actually, we probably won’t be going back here for a while. We gotta prepare with classes starting soon and we got all the information we need anyway.” Moblit explained. “So we’re gonna invite some athletes out for an interview then work closely with them.”

“About the keychain...” Yes, the keychain. I need to meet Hange again and give it to her.

“You can give it to Elijah here.” Hange suggested. “Or maybe...Moblit? If you’re okay working with him.”

Why Moblit? My teammate, Elijah? “Wait why?” Levi’s mind was racing with questions. The shock and confusion had left him a little disconnected from his surroundings. He almost did not notice the way Hange had pulled him to the side of the track. Suddenly, it was just the two of them, on the corner, out of earshot from everyone else.

“This is probably the last time we’re gonna meet so I’ll be honest with you.” Hange took a deep breath. “I really wanted to work with you for my thesis but yeah I guess… with what happened the past few days I kinda realize maybe we just aren’t compatible and we might just end up driving each other crazy.” Hange added a small laugh to that cold and rehearsed smile she was giving him. It only added salt to the wounds she was already opening up with her speech.  “And I guess I should have noticed this before but you really don’t like me do you? I’m sorry if I couldn’t give the best first impression.”

No… I really like you. You gave a great first impression. Like always, even when Levi had wanted to say it, the words had gotten lost somewhere in its journey from mind to mouth.  

[amphtaminedreams]

Winter Came...And Outstayed its Welcome: Lookbook no.16

Hey to anyone reading!

WINTER IS FINALLY OVER! SEASONAL DEPRESSION BE GONE, BITCH! The sun is here and all I have to say is:

I know, I know, it’s literally fucking June and winter technically ended about 2 months ago in March (which is to be fair the cut off point for the outfit pics I’m including) but when you’re living in England and the year is 2021 and you’re in the worst lockdown yet-because yes, we’re really at the point where most of us could probably organise lockdowns into a tier ranking system-the general mood is as if the feel bad weather has lasted for at least a year. I mean, although I naively attempted to put my “winter coat” away for the year in March, I only actually ended up doing that with the confidence I won’t be needing it again, like, last week. That’s right. IN MAY. I don’t have a diagnosis of seasonal depression or anything like that but I do tend to find it harder to resist being completely consumed by those depressive states when it’s cold and dark outside, even more so since lockdowns have been introduced and being able to see friends has become dependent on mother nature not being a tetchy bitch. Insomnia has returned to me with a bit of a vengeance in the last year and so I’ve noticed more than ever how the small differences the change in seasons make, like the sun rising and birds singing a couple of hours earlier. On a personal level, the world feels a lot less lonely.

On a grand scale, it feels wrong to say that. The events of the last year have been a daunting reminder of how little a deciding force morality and compassion play in the policies of our government and so many powerful ones like it around the world, and in a lot of ways how shitty people are in general. Working in a grocery store through a pandemic lays the absolute worst traits of humanity bare. Our little store radio jingle talks about how the pandemic has brought out people’s community spirit and it’s like YOU’VE GOT TO BE HAVING A LAUGH?! I literally had a man complain to our company’s head office about me a few weeks ago because I told him that-in a pandemic-I didn’t understand why he thought I (a 5ft 3 22 year old woman) should take the extra risk of trying to personally take down fully grown men shoplifting Stella Artois so that, after retrieving it, I could reserve some for him and the other “locals”. Though I’d love to say that as the vaccine is rolled out, I feel more optimistic about things, there are so many others living in densely packed, hugely impoverished areas abroad that need it a lot more than many of us do. We have leaders who continue to play a huge part in bolstering this huge imbalance in quality of life, and the crisis in Palestine along with the insistence of our media to paint this as a fair fight to justify the government exporting arms to Israel, has firmly driven this home. We’re talking Israel pushing Palestinians who have lived in that part of the world for centuries out of their homes via discriminatory laws comparable to those seen upheld against native Africans under the National Party’s Apartheid regime (more information on the specific ways in which Palestinians are being discriminated against available here on the Human Rights Watch website: https://www.hrw.org/report/2021/04/27/threshold-crossed/israeli-authorities-and-crimes-apartheid-and-persecution), and then forcing them to live in an area occupied and ruled by armed forces where their freedom of movement and access to basic necessities as Palestinians is subject to the punitive measures enforced by this world superpower, their vast army, hefty nuclear arsenal, and the money of all the foreign leaders who back them for the mutual benefit that entails. 

-source: instagram account @mindovermoon-

No questionable balance of power to see here, people. What’s an illegal occupation? 

Is what you say if you’re Boris Johnson or Joe Biden or any other old middle class white man (or woman) without any real principles. We only know a “ceasefire”. Equally, we have horrible people here at home using this as an excuse to reveal their antisemitism by harassing and abusing Jewish people who hold no more responsibility for the actions of a government thousands of miles away than any non-Jewish people who condemn it do. It is depressing as fuck, the state of things. There ARE things we can do on a small scale to ease that good old existential anxiety, and the summer is gonna make that a whole lot easier for me, but before I do get into my silly little winter outfits and how getting dressed up to go to Tesco got me through winter this year, I thought it’d be a good time to share 5 Palestinian businesses to support if you can afford it, compiled from some I found suggested on Twitter:

1. https://watanpalestine.com

Watan does everything from clothes to home decor to pins and was founded by Palestinians living in Illinois in 2015, with their profits going towards Palestinian liberation efforts in Gaza. Their space in the US is also dedicated to hosting workshops that encourages people to learn about the struggle and cultural heritage of people living in the region. V cute stuff.

2. https://www.taitaleila.com

As the website says “Palestinian embroidery, or tatreez تطريــز, is a centuries-old artistic tradition, passed from one generation to the next over a cup of tea. Historically, Palestinian women have documented their stories in their embroidery -- a colorful language of symbols and motifs -- that have left a powerful legacy that honors each Palestinian grandmother, or taita تيتــا ,and ancestor beyond space, place and time.” This site is dedicated to selling pieces hand embroidered by Palestinian women and even sells embroidery kits to help you learn yourself, which is something I really want to do at some point. Sadly, the namesake of the website, Taita Leila, who was forced to leave her home in Jerusalem due to the measures imposed by the Israeli government and continued to engage with her heritage through her embroidery from afar (she went on to write the book “The Art of Palestinian Embroidery”), passed away earlier this year. To honour her memory, all the profits generated by the capsule Roh Sitti collection dedicated to her life and story are donated to Grassroots Jerusalem.

3. https://nolcollective.com

I firmly agree with the founders of the Nol Collective when they say that art and fashion are political and it’s important to make ethical choices where we can (as I said in a previous post, I don’t want to shame anyone for buying fast fashion, I still do from time to time and we all deserve to enjoy what we’re passionate about regardless of our budget! It’s just about occasionally being selective of what brands we engage with!) and what better way to do this then to purchase from a company which partners directly with women’s cooperatives, family-run sewing workshops and local artisans in Palestine to produce their clothes. They are on the pricey side but they we are talking high quality, eternally stylish Free People-esque pieces that are made to order, truly taking the “slow” fashion route, so if you can afford it they have some beautiful items of clothing to pick from.

4. https://www.sunbula.org 

From the website “During the first Palestinian Intifada, Carol Morton, the wife of the late Rev. Colin Morton of the St. Andrews Scottish Church in Jerusalem, began a small project called Craftaid. From a modest craft shop in St. Andrews Guest House, it grew to become Sunbula in 1996 Sunbula, a Jerusalem-based non-profit fair trade organization, is a platform that supports marginalized women and communities in the West Bank, the Gaza Strip and Palestinian communities within Israel through traditional artisanal crafts.” Essentially, Sunbula works by selling the products of various Palestinian small businesses all in one place, a lot of the products detailed with the stunning embroidery that is so intrinsic to the creative heritage of the people. Their homeware is especially beautiful and so full of character and craftsmanship and if I have enough savings behind me to decorate my room when I move back to London to study, one of the cushions they sell is on my wish list.

5. https://handmadepalestine.com

Handmade Palestine is pretty much what it says on the tin, a company that works with over 25 women's cooperatives, artisans and designers to sell all their products online in one place to a market that wouldn’t otherwise be accessible; often, women artisans are the sole providers of their families, and given that it’s hard to sustain a livelihood under a discriminatory military occupation, there is a huge amount of responsibility and dedication that comes with this role that without these kind of platforms goes unrecognised and unrewarded. As with the products sold on all of these websites, what’s on offer on Handmade Palestine just shows the kind of gorgeous intricacies and details these women have the skill to work into their crafts and there is no better way to help keep such an important tradition and talent alive than to fund it. Additionally, not only does every purchase made on the site enable this fair trade, but with every other penny, trees are planted at Mashjar Juthour, an eco project on 2.5 acres of publicly accessible land where native trees are protected and where the community goes to learn about Palestine's natural heritage. The standout section for me is the watercolour botanical prints which could double as either a supremely elegant piece of art for your own space or a gift for someone who also wants to support the movement for Palestinian independence and self-determination. Is it a little scary to me that half of my school friends seem to be in a place where I could buy one of these as new housewarming gifts whilst I look at another 8 years living with my parents to get through an undergrad and doctorate? Quite possibly. But let’s swiftly move on from that.

I know this is supposed to be a “fashion post” and I always go off talking about other things but you never know, maybe just one person actually reads that and presses on a link or also wants to read more, and I think it’s important that we discuss what’s going on regardless of context because this stuff always demands our attention. I don’t want what I write to ever exist inside a void where nothing happening in our world is relevant.  Now (the shift in tone always feels weird but I don’t think there’s any appropriate way to segue from foreign policy to clothes so I’m just gonna get right into it, lmao) onto the outfits that were too extra for me to wear to Tescos and a little photo diary of the times I did manage to pull myself together and put in enough effort to feel decent:

-*=bought within the last 12 months, no asterisk is assumed discontinued-

-06/03/21-

(dress from Jaded London*, crochet cardigan from @milliejobson_ on Depop)

-30/12/20-

(dress from The Ragged Priest*)

-24/11/20-

(dress from charity shop, top from Urban Outfitters, beanie from Primark, faux leather blazer from NastyGal)

-17/02/21-

(top from @simranindia on Depop, beret from H&M, flares from Forever 21, faux fur coat from charity shop)

LOOKS 1-4

I can totally blame it on the fact that there weren’t any clubs or bars open but realistically, I doubt I would’ve worn my green coat outfit on the far left out the house due to the extra-ness of the look as a whole; with that being said, I think it’s my favourite outfit of the bunch that I put together and if I lived somewhere less conservative, I would definitely whip this one out. Minus the harness, which I got from Ebay and the House of Sunny coat which I’ve worn a million times for lookbooks (and is still the best piece of outerwear I’ve ever invested in btw), the yellow tiger print dress I bought from @ashton_riden on Depop last summer I could definitely make work out to drinks or a party. I wore this old Zara shirt underneath and some mesh knee highs (which I am aware aren’t going to do much in the way of conserving heat) but in the summer, I know I’ve got me a simple statement piece to throw on for when clubs finally reopen and we’re allowed to bask in all that body odour scented, sticky floored, gropey men abundant glory once again.

As you can see, I generally became very obsessed with knee highs this year (both the mesh and wool ones are from Ebay) and the second outfit very much follows the 2013 Tumblr formula by pairing them with an American Apparel style skater skirt (from Depop, have specified shop in previous post I think). And you know what? I’m here for it. I genuinely think that was a much better time for fashion than the late 2010s and like fishnet tights and thigh high boots and hoop earrings and fur coats, things that all go through periods of being considered “trashy” before becoming adored again, they’ll always be a staple for me and something I always get excited to see make its way back round to the forefront of the ever-rotating wheel of trends. With the knee highs and skirt, I wore this stunning Urban Outfitters corset which was one of the few fast fashion purchases I made last year-it reminds me of a cross between a Vivienne Westwood piece and Marc Jacob’s S/S93 collection for Perry Ellis and that is very much the vibe I wish to channel at all times. Underneath is the white linen blouse I got from a vintage shop in Camden a few years ago that anyone who’s ever read a look book of mine has probably seen a million times in every incarnation possible. Finally, for practicality, the importance of which clearly ebbed and flowed throughout the outfit planning process, I wore the black Topshop shearling coat I bought about 5 years ago at the Oxford Circus branch (RIP) in the sale. Still to this day my comfiest coat and my favourite low-effort, thus probs my most worn, piece of winter outerwear. About accessories, IDC if men are sick of Alice bands because imo they are forever a cute addition to an outfit; some people would hold Blair Waldorf responsible but tbh, I think it’s their namesake, like Alice in Wonderland was my jam as a child. Still kinda wanna audition to play her character at Disney World once I finish my undergrad degree to be quite honest, lol, I mean she’s one of the few non-animal suit roles I’m the right height to do and I naturally have the estuary accent down. Right here, right now, I’m planting the seeds, people. Not much to say about look 3 given that it’s all Depop and Ebay, apart from the hat I bought from Dolls Kill pre-boycott (once I realised just how shitty the owner was and that the company’s whole ethos is fucked rather than it being a case of isolated fuck ups over the years) early last year. Look 4 is another one I’m sooOoo happy with, mainly because the centrepiece is the velvet Birth of Venus turtleneck from Minga which is my new favourite shop. I mentioned it in my ethical clothing stores post which did pretty well but if there is anyone reading this and you didn’t see that post, go and check Minga out because all their stuff is adorable. It’s an upgrade on the Dolls Kills Delia’s line which isn’t going to line the pockets of someone very morally questionable and that’s always a good thing, lol.

-19/03/21-

(combat trousers from @amber_thomson1 on Depop, beanie from @j_umar on Depop, camo jacket from @marinamcaleesex on Depop, t-shirt from Brandy Melville, aviator jacket from Missguided, Fila Disruptor II Platform Wedge trainers from @alex_ruokay on Depop)

-09/01/12-

(shirt from charity shop)

-06/01/21-

(trench coat from @anefisc on Depop, Iets Frans jumper from @natbell97 on Depop, white dress from @cerysminty​ on Depop, platform boots from LAMODA*)

-14/03/21-

(jacket from @millscunningham on Depop, flares from NastyGal*, t-shirt from Urban Outfitters, Poppy Lissiman Crikey BB bag)

-22/12/20-

(crop top from @bethany1801 on Depop, jeans from @bethnobleee on Depop, hat from @babbiebp on Depop, socks from @anjacarteraccessories on Depop)

-29/12/20-

(top from@earthtoellen on Depop, skirt from @anishacassanova on Depop, flannel from Urban Outfitters)

LOOKS 5-8

Look number 5 I am in love with also if I’m being honest, because what’s wrong with patting yourself on the back from time to time!? Mostly because I didn’t plan to wear this blazer with it, a vintage men’s piece from @ccooks on Depop, but chucked it on top to see how it looked on a whim given my feeling the colours would complement each other, which I think ended up being the perfect touch. Another of my few fast fashion investments from last year were these Zara pleather trousers which I genuinely did attempt to stop myself from buying-I am a huge impulse buyer as I’ve said before and so I pretty much avoid the high street when I have money for this reason, but I went shopping with my friend and I caved. Pleather trousers have been an item of clothing I’ve wanted for yearsss but I’ve never wanted to order online or from Depop because they’re a bit of a risk in terms of sizing; I have a long torso and short legs (I claim this is why I’m such a slow runner, and it’s mostly an excuse but there must be a little truth to it right?) and so trousers with general sizing like 6, 8, 10 and so on are often too long. It’s pretty easy to bypass this when buying jeans off Depop because they’re mostly sold according to length and waist measurements but this isn’t the case with pieces that are a more stretchy fit like this, so I did go ahead and buy them. Rest assured I have got a lotttt of use out of them already so it was a worthwhile purchase. The main piece I based the outfit around, however, is this Jaded London tie dye mesh top with the spider web embroidery. Some may claim is a halloween-y top and maybe they’re right but you know what? There’s nothing wrong with being a spooky bitch all year round. I have a spider web tattoo over my knee so I kinda have to embrace it; yes, I am terrified of those little MFs but they kinda go off with their web designs.

The second look was something I wasn’t sure would look okay on but turned out to be a lil ensemble I really love, mostly due to the big The Craft vibes it’s giving off; it’s one of my all time favourite films and a huge source of style inspiration for the effortless way the costume design combine the bohemian elements associated with Wicca and 90s grunge. Both the jumper and shirt underneath are from a local charity shop and the olive silk skirt and faux leather blazer which I’ve worn in a few past look books are from Depop. I finished it off with my Doc Marten Jadens to stop it from being too austere; I know, I’ve worn them with practically every outfit this winter but levelling up from my regular docs was a big investment and I adore them. The third outfit I’m kinda meh on but it does include what is probably my number one second hand purchase so far this year with the burgundy leather blazer jacket I got off Depop from user @beawilson and my comfiest denim jeans which are second hand Collusion brand also from Depop, user @debbiec101.

The last look I put together is pretty much all based around this incredible Out of the Ordinary clothing (another one included in the ethical shops post) coat which I was inspired to by after watching season 2 of Fargo, particularly by Rachel Keller’s character Simone Gerhardt. She had some amazing 70s outfits in general but I saw this coat:

And I was like FUCK, I WANT SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN MY LIFE. I looked for something similar on Depop and Ebay for a long time which I didn’t end up buying due to everything I found being waaaay out of my price range, until finally, Out of the Ordinary came through and fulfilled all my 70s dreams with this piece. It was £110 which is a lot but for such a unique, high quality coat that’s ethically made, it’s worth it imo, and it’s the kind of item I’m going to keep for life-I don’t think I’ll ever see anything like it again! The boots I wore with it I got from Ebay last year and the orange velvet dress is from @daisfj’s Depop shop.

-02/12/20-

(top from @ohsista on Depop, jeans from YesStyle, blazer from @identityparty on Depop)

-19/01/21-

(mesh top from @izz_312, waistcoat from @elliekmx on Depop, skirt from @mollie_morton on Depop)

-28/02/21-

(top from @emilycatonx on Depop, corduroy puffer jacket from charity shop, Calvin Klein bag from charity shop)

-27/02/21-

(top from Urban Outfitters*, faux fur jacket from @naomikassiri on Depop)

-24/12/20-

(velvet halter neck from Urban Outfitters, black denim jeans from @debbiec101 on Depop, corduroy shirt jacket from @freyax19)

-11/01/21-

(skirt from YesStyle, top from Minga*, beret from @house_of_erotique on Depop, coat from Missguided, shirt underneath from Zara)

-04/01/21-

(top from @solvlifestyle on Depop, hairband from @jadexlaurenx on Depop)

LOOKS 8-12

Look 8 was my attempt to put my own spin on one of the outfits worn by Olivia Cooke’s eponymous character in the film Pixie which I saw with my sister during one of the inter-lockdown periods where the cinema was open. 

As a Bates Motel fan it feels correct that she’s finally getting the roles on the big screen she deserves! We love to see it!

I’m aware that Lucille Bluth meme is generally used in a less whole some context (I.E along with a caption like “me watching Jennifer Check feasting on a teenage boy’s internal organs”) but I’m just gonna use it in a wholesome sense for the pure reason that using the GIF as much as possible seems very necessary given the woman that made Lucille an icon, Jessica Walter, ’s passing. RIP to an absolute queen.

With it, I wore the same Collusion jeans and then this Topshop vinyl trench coat I bought a couple of years ago in the sale which I never really get the chance to wear out of the house. Like my House of Sunny coat, I feel self-conscious wearing it in my local town centre and the only time I got to visit London was over the summer when it was wayyy too hot. I will most definitely be taking it with me when I move back for uni in September. The shirt is one I’ve worn in a couple of lookbooks before that I got from Jaded London *I think* early last year.

Whilst the focus of the second outfit was supposed to be the pinstripe trousers I bought from Depop user @courtneypinkowski0 and this old Motel Rocks silk halter crop top, I made a last minute decision to add another of my favourite outerwear pieces of all time (I can’t count how many things I’ve probs said that about now so forgive me) in the form of this vintage motorcycle jacket I bought from Ebay a few years ago, which has definitely made an appearance in past lookbooks a few times. The inspiration for the purchase was of course that racer jacket Lana Del Rey used to get photographed wearing back in the Born to Die days back when girly used to have the most incredible street style and NOT just wear those bloody button up shorts 24/7. I get it, she’s in her 30s now, I too hope that I can give up on the expensive hobby of being into fashion once I’m in my late 20s so I can do *shudders* responsible adult things and focus more on building up my savings than I am right now (I do put money away but considering the price of the deposit for a house which makes me feel a little bit sick to my stomach I need to take that shit SERIOUSLY), but I do miss those days where her outfits would constantly make their way onto my Tumblr dashboard.

My third outfit includes the last of the fast fashion purchases I made last year: this stunning NastyGal cut out dress with the faux leather blazer and old Primark leopard print coat I whack out at every possible opportunity over the top. Honestly, because NastyGal is probably one of the very worst offenders when it comes to UK online fast fashion brands since it was sold to Boohoo (there’s no doubt Sophia Amoruso did some cunty things but the actual clothes on that site were so much better back when she ran it, let’s be real, plus we were gifted with the actually really great Netflix original Girlboss as a result of her being a dick so…) I’ve made a concerted effort not to buy from there but it is actually a decent quality dress and I love the fit, because it’s rare you get a dress with a cut out you CAN still wear a bra with; free the nipple and all but I’m personally just too self-conscious to let the girls hang freely and I’ve sat exams which were less stressful than wearing pasties for 2 hours. Yes, I’m one of those weird people that kind of enjoys exams (they’re weirdly cathartic for me and I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth by questioning that because it’s one of the few traits I possess which is actually mildly beneficial, lmao) but don’t let that detract from the fear having my whole boob held up by a bit of low-quality adhesive for a few short hours inspired deep in my soul.

My last outfit is styled around these incredible patchwork denim jeans I got from Depop user @catz987 which I still feel blessed to have come across. I’d seen them on a lot of fast fashion sites and in Urban Outfitters and thought they were really cool but because they’re the kind of piece that’s very trend-driven, to buy a pair didn’t feel like a conscious, sustainable choice. I was set on just waiting for the trend to pass but then thanks to Depop’s style edit feature, I came across these wonderful babies; on the whole, I find that the algorithm isn’t great but it does occasionally suggest some proper gems. With the jeans I wanted something simple so I wore this velvet bralet I also bought on the app from @catdegaris, and then over the top this checkered blazer I’ve had for a couple of years now which I find when you pair with other grungier pieces gives an outfit a bit of a punk vibe-big time into that of course, and it’s an excuse to whack on the docs again, not that I need one.

-24/01/21-

(jumper from Minga*, turtleneck under from Urban Outfitters, tote bag from JustFrankDesigns on Etsy, striped flares from @rach233)

-26/02/21-

(trench coat from charity shop, turtleneck from Urban Outfitters, belt from New Look*, knitted vest from Ebay)

-19/11/20-

(jacket from Topshop, scarf from @sabrinayxh on Depop, trousers from @adriennemyrick on Depop)

-16/12/20-

(floral cardigan from @dmndeef on Depop, white ruched crop top from @conniejaneobrien)

-28/01/21-

(trousers from YesStyle, scarf from Primark)

-22/01/21-

(top from Minga*, trousers from @annasctx on Depop, faux suede jacket from @tash_hall on Depop, beret from H&M)

So, if you got to here, thank you so much for reading! And please, if you can, check out the Palestinian businesses linked. I get it, I’m kind of strapped for cash too right now-I think I got a bit overexcited when restaurants opened and booked myself too many dinner dates right off the bat despite the fact I’ve got both parent’s birthdays, mother’s day, father’s day, and 3 friend’s birthdays to buy presents for, tehe-and so I haven’t purchased anything yet but the awful thing is that in spite of what we are being told about a “ceasefire”, Palestinians are still being subjected to an apartheid state in their own homeland and it’s probably a battle that will continue for a long time. Just because the situation isn’t making headlines like it was a week or so ago, DOES NOT MEAN IT’S NOT HAPPENING. People need recourses to fight back, and the Israeli government make it incredibly hard for the average Palestinian citizen to do this, which is why we need to support them in some way as soon as we can, even if that’s just keeping the conversation alive for the time being and making sure others are aware. I didn’t wanna put anything about it in the tags because I don’t want to hijack the conversation with my outfits (lmao), but I just thought that if someone somehow came across the post in one of the other tags and stopped to read or even glance, they might see something they liked on one of the store’s websites in the screenshots. One other thing I wanted to tentatively approach was the fact that there are people out there supporting Israel’s stance, who whether intentionally or not, are conflating those who are antisemitic (and jumping on the public outcry against Israel’s actions to attack ordinary Jewish people) with those who are solely criticising the actions of Israel’s government. We are NOT the same thing, I cannot stress that enough. It’s imperative that we listen and have sympathy for the Jewish people who are being targeted. Make it clear to any Jewish person with whom you’re discussing the situation that you recognise the risk they’re at from bigots who feel emboldened to be public with that bigotry due to the actions of the Israeli government, and don’t buy the bullshit; most of these people are completely aware that the average Jewish person isn’t responsible for the actions of said government. They have always held antisemitic views, and like I said, public condemnation of Israel is just their excuse to voice them. With all that in mind, do not allow anyone to tell you that being vocal in your support of Palestine is directly causing the behaviour of those who have ALWAYS been bigoted. Silence right now is what allows the oppression Palestinians face to continue. So yes, we should be considerate with our words and make sure we’re not suggesting in any capacity that somebody is responsible for Israel’s actions solely because they’re Jewish, but at the same time, don’t let anyone shame you into not speaking about the situation. Fighting for the human rights of a group being deprived of these in their ancestral homeland by a far more powerful government and recognising that decent, ordinary Jewish people are feeling vulnerable are not mutually exclusive things.

I know, I know, it’s a serious note to end on for a lookbook/outfit diary post and so thank you if you read to this point and the post in general. I understand that there are people who don’t feel like they have the emotional capacity at this moment to look into situations like the one we’re seeing occur in the middle east right now due to life circumstances and that’s fair, we’re living in a pandemic and anxiety is ridiculously high and sometimes it seems like going out of your way to inform yourself about any other horrible things going on that you also have no control over would be kind of like opening Pandora’s box. Honestly, I’ve probs wrote this before because it kinda plays on my mind a lot, but as a species I don’t think we’re built to fully comprehend human suffering on such a scale-for a long time, it’s only really been possible and necessary to know and care about ourselves and our immediate friends and family. All of a sudden, because of social media and the constant news cycle, there’s this new societal pressure to be aware of, care about, and have an opinion on EVERYTHING. Self-preservation is the core of our nature, not in a deep, we-live-in-a-society way but in a, like, biological fact, spreading your seed kind of way, and so it’s going to take us a while to catch up to modern expectations. Of course if you’re feeling like shit and you’re exhausted, going out of your way to research human rights violations is really not what your brain is gonna go to. To be real-if I was as physically and mentally exhausted every night as I am right now I probably wouldn’t know shit. I can barely string a sentence together to conclude the post, lmao.

Again, if you did read to this part, thank you so so much for reading! I’ll hopefully be able to post the next part of the S/S21 review series within the next couple of weeks and get that all wrapped up. In the meantime I hope everyone is staying safe and that the LGBTQIA+ community has a doubly magical Pride month to make up for the toned down celebrations of last year! And as always, feel free to inbox with any suggestions or queries or recommendations of other Tumblrs that you enjoy. I’m not gonna lie, my dashboard is in desperate need of livening up, lol! Lots of lurveee!

Lauren x

[ohblackdiamond]

the end of the world tour (kiss/endgame crossover, r) (part 4/5)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

In this chapter: Final preparations for visiting Tony Stark, including, in order of importance, paying up to find his location, deciding how to state their case, and determining what outfits to wear.

Or, four washed-up former rockstar superheroes don the spandex of old in a last-ditch effort to save an already half-gone world. They just need a little support from a billionaire who’s not too keen on KISS interrupting his private life. Somewhat Endgame compliant.

“Do you think we’re ready now?”

Paul said it out of nowhere, while they were all lounging in front of the T.V. Well, Gene had his ipad out, if only to fact-check the cast list for the horror movie onscreen. None of them were watching it. Ace had been shuffling in and out of the living room, bringing in popcorn and soda refills, looking a little antsy, but now he was sitting next to Peter, arm draped nonchalantly around his shoulders, feet propped up on a leather ottoman. On the couch opposite theirs, Paul was laying on his back, one ankle resting on his raised knee, occasionally reaching for the popcorn bowl on the floor, with Gene occupying what little room remained. It was comfortable, quiet. It reminded Peter of the rare times on tour that they’d have more than two days off in a row. No, better than that. Serene.

But with that single question, the serenity crumbled. Three pairs of bleary brown eyes were on Paul in an instant. Naturally, Paul started to hesitate, pulling both his knees up.

“I mean, really. We got all our powers back. What do we have left to work on?”

“Besides finding Stark’s location?” Gene set the ipad on the floor. “That’s it.”

“And that shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

“And about a million dollars,” Gene said dryly. “The man’s wiped himself off the map.”

“So we pay it, that’s fine.” That mild anxiousness was beginning to sink into Paul’s expression. Any minute and he’d be shifting around in his seat like a twitchy grammar school kid. Peter watched, too used to it to feel more than mildly vindicated, as Paul moved to lay on his side, knees still bent. Gene hadn’t yet taken advantage of the extra legroom. “But other than that, we’re done. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not counting on us, I dunno, waking up faster than a speeding bullet if we do a few more pushups.”

 Ace stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth before responding.

“We’ve got to chart it out.”

“Chart it out?” Peter echoed. “What, are we sailing?”

“Astrology charts.” Ace took a large gulp of Pepsi. “Figure out what day’s best—I looked into it a little bit, I think the 27th would be good…”

“Are you serious, Ace? Just because that’s your lucky number doesn’t mean there’ll be any difference—” Gene started.

“It’s not just that! I checked all our horoscopes and that’s the only day that’s gonna be positive for all of us at once!” Ace looked aggrieved, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “I couldn’t get it positive with Stark, too, so that was the best I could—”

“What sign is he?” Paul asked, distractedly.

“Gemini. Totally incompatible.”

Paul exhaled, brow furrowed. Gene just rolled his eyes. Peter looked over at Ace, for once unsure on whether or not to back him, or if it mattered.

“That’d give us two weeks,” Peter said finally, shrugging. It was probably the most neutral statement he’d made in awhile. Gene shot him a mildly aggrieved look. “It’s fine as long as nobody chickens out and keeps trying to put it off.”

“Nobody’s gonna chicken out, Pete, don’t you worry.” Ace was nodding as he spoke. “I’m gonna check with my tarot reader tomorrow, too, just to make sure.”

“You still go see her?”

“Well, yeah. Though sometimes I’m starting to wonder.”

“What, if she’s stealing your money?”

“No, no, I just think her clairvoyance is getting cataracts or some shit.” Ace shrugged. “She said we were gonna tour again.”

Gene started to laugh. An utterly disgusted look crossed Paul’s face before he pressed half of it against the armrest.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding! Not in so many words, but she said something about change and great spectacles and crowds, so—”

“The only way I’m going back on tour is if we get sued,” Paul said flatly.

Ace hesitated.

“About that, Paulie…”

God. Peter knew exactly what was next. A whole half-hour round of rambling and shooting the shit, and by the time they all realized how far off-course they’d gotten, no one would even be in the mood to discuss their meeting with Stark. Ace’s ability to delay and distract had gotten way too much practice over the last five years. Luckily, Gene was immune.

“We’ve got other logistics to deal with here,” he said, a little curtly.

“Like what? This ain’t a gig—”

“Are you kidding? Ace, this might be the biggest gig of our lives.” Gene’s voice was as quiet and intense as usual. To Peter, it was a relief. “If Stark knows what really happened—”

“There’s no way that bastard doesn’t. You don’t make that kind of money without your fingers in everybody’s pie,” Peter interrupted. “We’ve been over this.”

“It’s not all about the money. It’s the type of superhero work he did.” Paul had raised his face from the armrest, finally. “I mean, the Avengers were dealing with threats from alien planets. That’s more than we ever did.”

“You think what happened five years ago is on account of aliens, Paul?”

Paul shrugged as much as he could while lying on the couch.

“You piss off a lot of people crimefighting.”

“Like Devereaux.” Peter snorted at the memory, but he kept going. “The guy gets fired and then he decides to make fucking robots of us to destroy the whole amusement park. And we didn’t have anything to do with it!”

“We did a concert at the park,” Paul said dryly.

“But it wasn’t our fault he got canned!”

“Well, no, but…” Gene said, before clearing his throat. He grabbed the remote, turning off the television. “We’re not getting anything done talking about Devereaux. We need to be talking about how to approach Stark.”

“Easy. With an ultimatum,” Ace tried to deadpan, only to ruin it with a laugh.

“With a plan.”

“Okay, okay. First off, what outfits? We’ve gotta coordinate.” Paul, unsurprisingly. Peter could’ve practically done a timeline of Paul’s recovery over the last five years by how much interest he showed in what he looked like. The first morning Paul had come downstairs for breakfast both shaved and dressed in something that wasn’t pajama bottoms or jeans was the morning Peter knew he wouldn’t be stuck living with a corpse that vaguely resembled KISS’ frontman.

“I dunno. Whatever we go with, I’ll still be sweating,” Ace said. “None of them are comfortable.”

“Mine are comfortable—”

“That’s ’cause yours don’t usually have a top, Paul.”

“We could do suits,” Gene offered halfheartedly. Despite his earlier complaint, Ace looked mildly appalled at the suggestion.

“No suits. I dunno if Stark’s old enough to remember the Dressed to Kill album cover,” Ace said. “He’ll think we’re trying to negotiate a business deal.”

“We are.”

“Y’know what I mean, Gene. No go.”

“Then what tour?”

“Anything but Dynasty. I’m not dragging around that green fucking shag carpet again,” Peter said.

“I loved Dynasty. We were wearing actual colors.”

“Black and silver are actual colors, Paul.”

“What about Love Gun? Fairly easy outfits to move around in, cohesive… lots of nostalgia for a Generation Xer like Stark…” Gene trailed. Ace nodded.

“I like it. Yeah.”

--

The next day, Gene made about a dozen calls and moved half a million dollars out of a Swiss bank, while Paul got out his checkbook, looking markedly less blasé about shelling out the money than he had when it was only a point of discussion. Peter was determined not to let the hangdog expressions on both their faces compel him to donate (“the man’s location ain’t worth forty bucks, and you know it”), but Ace, yanking out his own wallet with the affability of an old gambler, shamed him into it with a single sentence.

“It’s only paper, Cat.”

So half an hour later, once Ace had wandered off for his tarot reading appointment, Peter wrote out a check for thirty grand. Every step towards Gene’s office—really just a rolltop desk and a rolly chair conveniently parked outside the kitchen—felt like slogging around in mud. The last time he’d given Gene any money, he—no, wait, he’d never given Gene any money. Unless he counted licensing. He was trying not to count licensing.

As soon as Peter walked in, Gene spun around in his chair to face him. Peter held up the check, feeling like he was fleecing himself out of part of his own retirement. That old glint in Gene’s eye was there almost immediately, and he didn’t hesitate, taking the check as soon as Peter offered it.

“Is that a reimbursement?”

“It’s a payment, asshole. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“You didn’t make it out to anyone.”

Peter snatched the check back and wrote “Gene Simmons” in capital letters across the for line.

“There. Just put it towards finding that bastard, that’s all I care about.” He paused. “How much did Ace give you?”

“More than you did.”

Peter groaned.

“And you let him? Gene, you know he blew all his Reunion money as soon as he made it—and he never did earn that much off his solo albums. Don’t let him bullshit you, he ain’t got more than a million, I’d be surprised if he’s got half that—”

“He wanted to help out.”

“Don’t bankrupt him over this shit, Gene.”

“I’m putting half of it back in his account.” A pause. “But—now correct me if I’m wrong, Pete, but you’re a little more, ah, fiscally responsible, on average—”

“If you put half mine back, I’m moving out. I’m serious. I’m not having you and Paul hang who paid what over my head if this works.”

“All right, fine, fine.” Gene folded the check and stuck it in his pocket.

“I mean it, Gene, I watch my bank account.”

“Spoken like a true divorcé,” Paul called out from the kitchen. The usual tinny crack to his voice when he spoke much above normal volume wasn’t there yet. Peter scowled.

“I didn’t spend half as much on either of mine as you did—"

“I told you both to do prenups,” Gene interrupted. Peter shot him a put-out look, while Paul kept yelling out from the kitchen.

“I tried! Pam started crying when I suggested it!”

“Yeah, that should’ve been your first indication.” Gene was biting back a laugh. Peter elbowed him. “Anyway, I’ll go get everybody’s checks deposited and—”

“You can do that online,” Paul said, only half-audible over the sound of the egg beaters. Whatever he was in the process of baking, Peter didn’t hold too much hope for.

“What?”

“Just take a couple pictures of the checks and you can do it online.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t gotta go over there anymore.”

Gene looked at Peter. Peter shrugged.

“First I’ve heard of it. I dunno.”

“Huh.” Gene’s forehead furrowed, and he called back out to Paul. “Front and back of the check?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really trust that,” Peter mumbled, watching as Gene took the checks out of his pocket, spreading them on the desk (Peter noted, almost wryly, that Paul had failed to add the obligatory star to his signature. Ace, though, had doodled his usual card, strange as it looked next to “Paul Frehley”) before pulling his phone out. “I bet nobody’s looking at the damn pictures.”

“Hang on.” Gene’s lips were pursed in concentration. “Shit, I forgot my password.”

The din of the eggbeaters ceased, a put-out sigh coming from the kitchen. A few seconds later and Paul was in the office with them, leaning over Gene’s phone.

“Which account is it again?”

“The, uh, local one.”

Another sigh. Paul typed something in and handed the phone back.

“There. You’re in now.”

“Thanks.” Gene fidgeted, smoothing out the checks again before starting to take the pictures. Peter stared at both of them.

“You’ve got the passwords to his bank accounts.”

“Well, yeah, he never remembers.”

“Are you sure you’re not married?”

Gene’s head shot up immediately, caught expression written all over his face. Paul gave Peter that wide-eyed, innocently baffled stare that had stopped being attractive somewhere around the second term of the Clinton administration. Only it quit being baffled and sunk right over to embarrassed within half a second, Paul’s gaze drooping to the desk. Peter ignored the hint and kept staring.

“Well?”

“I’ve got to check on that meringue,” Paul said suddenly, and slunk out of the room.

--

Two hours and three-quarters of a million dollars later, Gene had Tony Stark’s location pinpointed, coordinate by exhausting coordinate. Ace confirmed, once they’d punched those coordinates into google maps, that he could teleport them there, no problem. Pretty disgusting, really. It turned out that the guy hadn’t even left New York.

Ace also confirmed that his tarot reader had told him the 27th was a perfectly viable day for any and all world-saving plans. Not a surprise. Even if Ace wasn’t much more than a millionaire, if that, Peter figured she was still probably getting paid way too much to argue him over dates.

And so that was it. That was really it. The last real chink in their plan, resolved. All over but the enacting. Sitting around the kitchen, eating the chocolate pie Paul had whipped up earlier (he’d overbeat the meringue on top), it felt—weird. Back on the precipice of something grand and great and terrifying. Just spinning their wheels. Just waiting.

Gene reached for another piece of chocolate pie. Paul leaned over and cut it for him, neatly setting it on his plate.

“Thirteen days, boys,” Gene said through a mouthful of meringue. “Thirteen days and we’ll save the world.”

“Hopefully,” Paul corrected.

“No hopefully. We’ll save it.” Gene’s self-assurance was usually more frustrating than bolstering. But right now, Peter appreciated it. “We’re in the best shape we’ve ever been in—”

Beside Peter, Ace burst into laughter.

“Well, I mean, in costume—in costume we’re untouchable,” Gene corrected. “Stark’s an intelligent man. He’ll recognize what an asset we are.”

“Gene, saying Stark’s an intelligent man is like saying Genghis Khan was a pretty good warlord.” Paul shifted, and Peter watched, mildly surprised, as he got another piece of pie for himself. Usually, the guy ate less the more stressed he was. “But I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem getting him on our side.”

Peter felt himself nod.

“We got a lot going for us.”

“We need to talk approach, though.” Gene looked pensive. Peter tilted his head. Across from him, Paul mumbled “oh, boy” under his breath. “No, I’m serious. Coming to his house in costume is ballsy, but the message is what’ll really get us in.”

“What do you wanna do, Geno? Ask him whose dick you have to suck to get in on the world-saving gig?” Ace asked blithely.

“I can’t believe you remember me saying that,” Gene said.

“I don’t. But I had to do research for my memoir.” The corners of Ace’s mouth tilted up. “I get that it’s serious, but—”

“It is serious. That’s why I need to do the talking.”

“Oh, come the hell on, Gene—”

“Paul, I’ve met him. I’ve had dinner with him. I think that’ll give us some extra leverage—”

“What, you think the rest of us are just gonna make asses of ourselves?”

“Absolutely.”

“Gene!”

“Paul, c’mon. You’ll be snotty, Pete’ll get pissed, and Ace’ll tell him about Jendell. You all need to leave the talking to me.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Peter said it before Paul could. He could feel Paul’s glance on him, approving for the first time in years. Ace’s, too. “We’re not going to be sitting on our asses while you try to schmooze up Stark.”

“Then—”

“I think we’ve got to just be honest with him,” Ace said. “We don’t need to bust out the resume. ’S not big enough to be all that impressive anyway. Just tell him we wanna help.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“Yeah, I think it’s that simple.” Ace was tugging his fork along his plate, scraping up the tiniest remnants of his piece of chocolate pie. Peter, sighing, cut another piece for him, dropping it on his plate. “The Avengers don’t get a lot of volunteers.”

“Do you think we ought to…” Paul trailed, wiping off his mouth as he spoke. “Try an emotional appeal. Would that work on him?”

“Would it work on you?” Gene asked.

“If Tony had tits, it would.”

“Then that’s a no.”

“Hold on. What kind of emotional appeal are you talking, Paul?” Peter asked.

Paul looked a little surprised Peter was pushing for more when Gene had just shut him down.

“Like Ace said, be honest. Tell him we lost out on everything. We could even tell him about our work with FER.”

Peter barely managed not to roll his eyes at Paul qualifying those fifty-three pregnancies as work. Gene had finished his second piece of pie, and Paul was pushing what was left of his own towards him on automatic.

“The only trouble with that is, he’s heard it before,” Gene said. “He’s donated millions to the government to clean up after what happened. There’s probably thousands of charity organizations sending him orphans to sponsor.”

“But he hasn’t heard it from us.” Paul’s lips were slightly pursed. “You’re right, it may not make much of a difference. But Stark does know who we are.”

“Everyone knows who we are,” Gene countered.

“No, Gene, it—it means something to him. He’s just old enough that he remembers when we were superheroes.”

Peter wiped his mouth off with a napkin.

“Remember how they billed us, starting out?” Paul pushed.

“Sure,” Peter said. “The seventies’ answer to Captain America.”

“Then we ended up the Me Generation’s answer to Captain America,” Ace added dryly.

“And Stark’s old man was big buddies with—”

“Captain America.” Gene nodded, expression brightening. “He would’ve had to have been very well aware of us—”

“Exactly. Gene, did Stark ever tell you anything, when you met him? Did he say he’d been to KISS concerts?”

“I don’t remember. He might have.” Gene scooped up more of Paul’s piece of pie, taking a bite as he spoke. Same rotten table manners as ever, but Peter had long since stopped minding. “I’ve only seen him at a few functions. He never struck me as a fanboy.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not one,” Paul countered. “There are a lot of fans out there still that don’t advertise it.”

“If it turns out Stark’s got a KISS cave in one of his mansions, I gotta say I ain’t buying the playboy bit out of him,” Ace said.

“I think he got married. But look, just—we’ve got to use whatever we can to our advantage. Even if we’re still playing on nostalgia.”

Peter nodded in agreement. Ace reached over, snagging the last piece of pie before Gene’s fork could reach it, and smiled.

--

Over the next twelve days, everyone was filled with nervous energy. It seemed to almost ping-pong back and forth between them, the bond getting strong enough that Peter was finally starting to distinguish between the rest of the guys’ feelings, instead of it all being an indiscernible lump of emotions. He’d never been great at it. Paul was easiest to tell apart from the rest, probably because he was so anxious naturally, ribbony swaths of mauve and purple in his mind’s eye. Gene and Ace were always a little less defined. Peter was worried about Ace in particular. The deep blue field of feelings, like an oddly starless sky, seemed—deeper, like there was something beneath the surface. He’d mentioned it a bit, late at night in bed, but Ace always brushed it off. Peter, figuring Ace was just afraid their discussion with Stark would all go wrong, hadn’t pushed him too hard about it. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d say so.

They had just finished one last workout and were lying around on the couches, transformed back to normal but still sweaty. Ace had gotten everyone water bottles from the fridge; Paul had deigned to pass out towels, and they’d all ended up pouring the water on the towels and wiping off their faces with it, too tired to bother with proper showers yet. Gene was self-assured to the point of cockiness, the red tendrils of emotion creeping into Peter’s subconscious like infiltrating vines.

“Almost there. Tomorrow’s the day.”

Paul, who had his legs propped on Gene’s lap on the couch, but still looked strained, nodded in assent.

“You nervous?”

“I’m dosing up on Xanax before we leave.”

“Paul, c’mon,” Gene said, and then he looked over at Peter and Ace. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Peter said dryly. Ace offered a thumbs-up.

“You’re killing me. Where’s Bill when you need him?” Gene shook his head. “Don’t be so damn worried about how things are gonna go. I can feel it from here.”

It was hard not to be worried. They hadn’t discussed what they’d do if Tony Stark turned them down, if there was no way they could fix their world. It had been easy to say they had nothing to lose when their powers had been in terrible shape and teaming up with the Avengers was just an idea to reach for. But now, powers restored, less than twenty-four hours from being face-to-face with Stark… it was different. It was wracking. And Gene was trying to take over the job of every manager they’d ever had, and pump them up like they were back on tour.

“C’mon, boys. The last thing that stopped KISS was a concept album.”

Ace’s mouth started to twitch up at his words. Noticing it, Gene shot him a broad smile and continued.

“We’ve talked what we’re gonna say and do tomorrow to death. Let’s look past that.”

“Look past that?” Peter repeated.

“Yeah. Let’s go around the room and talk about what we’ll do after.”

“Well, after we’ll either go home or end up in that Avengers tower,” Paul said dryly. Gene poked his leg.

“After we succeed, Paul. After we get him on our side and save the world. What’s next on our agenda?”

“I still gotta take you guys to Jendell,” Ace said.

“Yeah, but besides that. C’mon. True story time. Let’s all come out with it, all around the room.” Gene’s boisterousness was the exact opposite of infectious, each bandmate glancing nervously at the others, but he didn’t seem deterred. “Do I have any volunteers? Paul?”

“I, uh…”

“Go ahead. What’s the first thing you’re going to do after we save the world?”

“Probably have sex with my wife.”

Gene’s expression shifted into a wide grin.

“Me, too. Peter?”

“… Probably just kiss my wife.”

“Aw, Petey, just let Gigi touch your tits some and you’ll be able to get it back up—”

“Oh, shut up, Ace—”

“What’re you going to do, Ace? Rachael?”

“I dunno.” Ace was gnawing at his bottom lip, teeth sliding up and down the skin. “I think… I think I wanna try to patch things up with Jeanette.”

“Really?” Peter blinked. “You haven’t even lived together in at least twenty years.”

“I know. I know that. But we never got divorced. Her health’s been real bad, I didn’t wanna do that to her. And me and Rach… I dunno. Rach helped me get clean. Jeanette could’ve, too, if I’d let her.”

Peter didn’t know how to answer that. Oh, there were all the old sayings he half-remembered from his own rehab stint, how an addict, any addict, could have the best support team in the world behind him and it wouldn’t matter until he wanted to change, but none of that felt right. None of that felt meaningful.

“But you guys helped me stay that way,” Ace finished off. “So I guess on that basis if you wanna go all-in on a four way marriage, then—”

“No,” Gene said flatly. “One partner’s expensive enough.”

“Aww, been breaking my heart for over forty years, Geno,” Ace lilted, licking his lips, smirk spreading across his face. “’N’ I just keep coming back. Glutton for punishment, man. How the fuck do you do it?”

Gene just snorted, but he was starting to smile. Next to him, Paul shifted awkwardly.

“Don’t say it, Paulie. I know you’ve got the rings on backorder at Kay’s—”

“Kay’s? Don’t insult me like that!”

“Okay, okay, so you went to Tiffany’s. Get your lamps and your engagement rings at the same time, good deal.”

“Damn it, Ace, I just wanna—”

“I’m staying out of this,” Peter mumbled, starting to get up, only for Ace to grab him by the arm and tug him back to the couch, cackling.

“You’re way too late for that one, Cat. When was it, ’95…”

“I just wanted to ask if anyone wanted to jam downstairs!” Paul burst out.

“Jam?”

They hadn’t had a jam session since before Paul and Gene had gotten out the talismans for their ridiculous FER liaisons.

Peter remembered the first session they’d done. Maybe three, four months after moving into New Haven properly, after Gene had taken care of—or had someone else take care of—closing deals on all four of their houses. Moving everyone’s personal memorabilia, everything from gold and platinum albums to old costumes to stupid, useless shit like newspaper clippings and black-and-white passport photos, into storage units. Most of the stuff they’d wanted at home got boxed up and put either in the attic or downstairs, instruments included.

Peter had found himself in the basement, looking for something still in storage. An old corduroy coat of Lydia’s. One he’d about begged off her boyfriend a month or two after the blip. He knew he didn’t have a right to it forty years out, but he could smell the faint traces of her perfume on the fabric, could see that old greasepaint smear on the corner of one sleeve, from when she’d cupped his face in her hands for a kiss after a show. He’d been so desperate to grasp at anything of hers, any reminder she’d ever been real and ever been his. Gigi, too, only he had her things, almost twenty years’ worth. Her dress from their wedding, her name tattooed on his shoulder. He’d had nothing of Lydia’s.

He never found that coat again, no matter how much he searched the basement. Instead Peter had found Gene’s old bass, the one Gene had given him after he’d been fired from the band for the first time, that old memento. Even when he’d gotten down to his last few grand, back in the early nineties, he’d held onto that bass. It was out of tune now, badly, but Peter had kept strumming at it until he heard Ace wandering down the stairs, then watched him step into the basement. Ace hadn’t even blinked at the sight of Peter with the bass.

“You wanna play something?”

“No, it’s—”

“C’mon.”

And somehow they’d both lugged Peter’s old drumkit out of storage, and one of Ace’s Les Pauls, and before long they were playing again. Couldn’t do much with a two-piece band. Ace had gone all in on “Parasite;” Peter had started “Strange Ways,” and halfway through the chorus, Paul had come in. Peter had bristled, expecting Paul to tell them to can it, but Paul had just watched quietly, leaning against the door like he thought he still looked cool. Not realizing that he only looked like a little kid hoping he wouldn’t get picked last for baseball.

Ace had waved him over with a jerk of his thumb. Paul had dug around awhile in the storage room before picking out one of probably two or three guitars he had in there, tuning it, anxious look on his face. The three of them finished up on “Strange Ways,” and then Peter’s gaze had gone to Paul, waiting, out of long-ago habit, for the next suggestion. Paul took awhile to make one.

“‘Hard Luck Woman,’” Paul had said finally.

“You don’t wanna sing?” Peter had asked, unthinking. Paul looked away, and Ace just plowed into the intro in attempt to save Paul some face. But Peter didn’t pick up his sticks, deliberately missing his cue to sing.

“Pete, just go ahead, would you?” Paul had said, voice quiet. “Just go ahead. I want to hear you.”

“I wanna hear you.”

By the time Gene came downstairs, Ace and Peter had coaxed Paul into starting on the first verse of “Strutter,” each note weak but true. Gene hadn’t even hesitated, strapping on his bass like a minuteman attaching his bayonet, adding that last piece to their ensemble.

That night, they’d been tight. Tighter than they’d been in so many years, feeding off each other’s playing in—in almost a round. Not weaving in and out seamlessly like Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood—KISS just wasn’t that good, and never had been—but it felt better than comfortable. It felt fulfilling. Looking back, Peter realized that night had been the start of that old connection between the four of them beginning to mend.

That session had been the best by far. The jam sessions after were a mixed bag. Oh, they’d all start out well enough, charging through the old setlist staples like “Black Diamond” and “Detroit Rock City” at an insistent, heady pace, but then, inevitably, things would fall apart. Peter’s arms would go from just throbbing to straight-up murdering him, Ace’s encroaching deafness would get in the way of his ability to follow Peter’s tempo, and Paul’s voice would start cracking to the point he’d just quit singing entirely and glare at the others as if daring them to utter a single word.

Gene was the only one who didn’t really falter much—until they got to any actual jams, at least. Then he was dead in the water. If it hadn’t been on at least the last ten setlists, it wasn’t a song Gene actually remembered. Peter had found that out the hard way when he’d suggested a rendition of “Mainline,” only to garner a blank-faced Gene and an off-kilter but trying Ace and Paul for his troubles. The bassline not being the most important factor in that song didn’t ease Peter’s irritation any. Not given that Peter had done the lead vocals.

“Wait, you really want to jam, Paul?” Gene asked. He looked a little baffled. Paul would go along with jam sessions, but he’d never been the one to suggest them before. Too embarrassed about the state of his vocals. It was like the guy honestly expected to be made fun of. Maybe once, five years ago, Peter would have, seeing it as karma for how Paul had treated him during the Reunion. But not now. Not ever.

“Well, yeah. Get some of the nervous energy out before we go to Stark’s.” Paul shrugged. “Look, if you guys don’t want to, it’s fine, I just thought…”

“Let’s do it.” It was Ace, in all his weirdly lazy affability. But his eyes were bright and focused. “Dress rehearsal before the performance. It’s good luck.”

“It’s good luck to have a bad dress rehearsal, Ace,” Gene corrected, though he was nodding. “Pete, you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m game.”

“Cool.” Paul visibly relaxed. The purple ribbons in the corner of Peter's mind seemed to lighten. Ease. “C’mon.”

[chyrstis]

I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 2/10

Updates for this’ll probably come every couple of days or so, and I’m already bracing myself for a third wave of edits to come. But here’s the next part, and Sharky, I’m sorry about the skunk, but you were the one to mention it to begin with. ...And the resulting idea was too entertaining to pass up.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 4.3K  

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

—

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

———–

It took two and a half days to tear the old boathouse down.

John hadn’t lied when he mentioned wanting him to get in there and take it apart piece by piece, and hovered over him the entire time.

The whole monitoring bit was easily the part that annoyed him the most. Like he was waiting for him to screw up. To somehow find a way to take the already burnt building and set it on fire again through force of will alone. Which, while badass, was well out of his means, all the wishing and praying he’d sometimes do to monkey Jesus aside.

But that didn’t stop John from acting like he had the ability. Riding him further during smoke breaks, or barking order after order at him from the sidelines.

Every other word out of his mouth was a correction. To tell him to go back to read the blueprints again. To check his measurements. To put out that cigarette, pry out that misplaced nail, and to use some of that delicacy he kept on going back to, making Sharky’s eyes want to roll back into his head.

And music? The one time he’d tried to bring any levity to the situation with the soothing sounds of disco, John put an end to it immediately. Really just made it clear how much of a drag he wanted to be, and only wanted to push the point home.

Seeing as John was some big-shot lawyer, he really expected him to have more to do than nitpick and lord this whole thing over him. Like he’d stick around for a few weeks, use the time to get off on whatever power trip he was having over this, and then go back to bugging the department, the local businesses, Nick, shit, anyone.

But John Seed was also petty as fuck.

Local gossip hadn’t painted the guy as a kind or forgiving figure, and while the Seeds as a whole were alright at best and fucking weird at worst, over the past couple of years John had picked up a rep as a colossal asshole all on his own.

Tickets? Contested. Special orders down at the store or for parts? Made with specific instructions that needed to be followed to the letter. If not, he’d demand and get his money back, damning everyone with the fine print others would skim over.

Hell, Sid, one of the guys that worked down at the cattle ranch, had traded paint with him once. He’d done so while stopping at the general store, and hadn’t paid much mind to the fancy car parked in the lot, getting just close enough to leave a small scuff on the rear bumper.

In those cases, a person would trade numbers, or see what they could buff off before moving on, 'cause insurance claims were a pain in the ass, and half of the cars in the county were a little late on renewing registrations anyway. Shit, he was coming up on a year, and hoping to see how much longer he could go before any of the Deps cottoned on to it.

But no, the minute John caught on, Sid recalled the glint he got in his eye. Then told him he’d slap him with the largest fine possible for both the damage and the late reg. All over trading paint. Not major damage, not even a busted tire.

Just paint.

Sid was still spitting mad about it, months after the fact.

He’d even pulled a fast one when it came to setting up big bro Joe’s compound. Digging up some obscure property laws all but guaranteeing the land could be sold to them.

No, no one earned the title of mega-dick by being sweet and accommodating. His bro had smoothed over a lot of ruffled feathers by being pretty okay after that, even with all of the converts chilling the fuck out on his property, but John was still John.

And now he personally had that shit to deal with. Today, two days from now, and who knew how many weeks or months after that.

So much for those chicks wanting and keeping his number too. Hurk told him he’d snagged at least one number on the way back to their drop off, but when he’d tried to call them back the other day he got no answer. Ghosted him like it was nothing, and he guessed he deserved that.

What with getting himself caught and left to doing whatever the hell John wanted for as long as John wanted.

“As per our agreement,” John would remind him, whenever he felt the point needed pushing.

And he pushed.

Whenever Sharky would drop something, whenever he let his feet drag, whenever he cut something and John was ready to whip out his tape measure.

He pushed, and Sharky shot another prayer up to monkey Jesus, hoping that maybe this would be the day to go Human Torch on the situation. Or at the very least a little Cyclops.

Not today, but he’d try again tomorrow.

But on the days when Sharky was working, it wasn’t always just the two of them. He’d full on expected this whole thing to go on in its own little pocket, with Hurk eventually crashing the party due to a need to bust him out or worse.

The day that Joseph first showed up stood out, for one.

Joseph Seed was kind of like Pastor Jerome. Not his first pick to hang out with, considering they were both on opposite sides here. Of the whole preaching and managing earthly temptations, while not super indulging in the kind of shit that he knew he wanted in his life, period.

It came with the territory, being religious leaders and all that, but when Joseph first rolled in to the county, he’d brought his people with him.

And they were an interesting bunch. The People of Eden’s Gate were some kind of holistic commune where it was pretty hunky-dory roughly ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent was wondering just what to do about the men and women that wanted the simple life. Living humbly while offering help wherever needed.

While their hearts were in the right place, it was pretty boring stuff otherwise, Sharky decided. He’d even considered joining up for the hell of it only until Hurk reminded him that there wasn’t much fucking to be found there. Pretty women, sure, but the kind more focused on spirituality, and less on how many ways they could Clutch Nixon-ify their daily lives.

But Joseph on his own was a different story.

Watching John go from calmly sipping his drink, doubling-down on just how refreshing it was when Sharky happened to push the wheelbarrow past him, to spitting half of it out when Joseph materialized next to him was fucking priceless.

Greeting him warmly, Joseph pulled a sputtering John into a kind-of half-hug gesture, but John’s cool had already been lost, and in front of his entourage too.

Joe’s wife was with him, plus kiddo number one of a baker’s dozen, carrying them up and on her hip as they talked. With them was also a woman dressed in the modest clothes the Peggies stuck to. She wasn’t trying to stand out, but he didn’t need sharp eyes to see how damn pretty she was.

It had to have been a brother thing, Sharky gathered. Embarrassing the shit out of younger siblings seemed almost natural to Joseph, and it might’ve been petty of him too, but watching John try to get his shit back in line in front of all of them was like hitting the jackpot.

So, Sharky kept on working, sneaking looks over at the group every now and then, and at one point gave an awkward wave back whenever they tried acknowledging him. But whenever John glanced his way, Sharky didn’t hide his shit-eating grin. No, it stayed put for the rest of the day.

The next time Joseph came over, however, he didn’t stop by just to say hi. He approached Sharky, ignoring John’s loud protests, and insisted on helping.

He’d get water, and help with any items that needed anchoring, stepping in whenever it looked like Sharky needed another hand. It was the most contact he’d had with the guy outside of the times he’d tried preaching at the Eagle, and outside of that? He was actually pretty okay to be around.

Well, he personally didn’t have a problem with Joe, at least. John’s irritation skyrocketed with every suggestion, especially when Joseph did the impossible. Told him that with a three-person job, you needed three people, and John? John was capable.

“You sure are,” Sharky added, giving him a wicked grin, and John looked mad enough to spit.

But he didn’t say no. Didn’t even try, or attempt it.

Did more than his fair share under the loving supervision of his older bro, and come nightfall, Sharky realized he’d had a damn good day. It was the lightest he’d felt in weeks, and wasn’t about to turn that down. Not when it helped him jump back into things with some extra pep, and the progress was a boost too.

With the actual frame up and the panels and exterior being added piece by piece, Sharky was starting to feel pretty accomplished. Proud even, because he built this. Yeah, he was being needled at every step of the way, but he used his own two hands to get this set up, no one else’s, and at the end of the day could actually see more of this coming together.

If he kept this up, he’d also have some extra skills to add to his repertoire. Might even get a chance to twist Hurk’s arm into trying out that whole ‘building and flipping’ thing that seemed to be hot at the moment, provided he wasn’t here for the next ten years.

But goals. He had goals to work towards and something to show for it, and it was pretty damn nice in the grand scheme of things.

Today, however, John had a guest again. The same Peggie woman as before, holding a basket, flanked by a few other converts.

Full on expecting to see Joe with her, Sharky wondered if he was waiting out in the woods again. Hell, even John was checking the path back up towards his house, looking past her every now and then to see if he’d catch him.

But as the minutes ticked by, and Sharky kept on working, nothing happened. And long after the other Eden’s Gate members had left, the two kept on talking, having what seemed to be a hell of a time going off of the signals they were giving off.

Smiling, laughing. Facing each other directly as they spoke, Sharky had John’s back to him almost completely, which had his eyebrows climbing up.

And judging by the way she was reacting to John in turn, he had to have been turning on the charm. Smiling shyly, twirling her hair around her finger, hell, he’d put money on her being a two-word question away from dropping everything to get a piece of that.

It was annoying as fuck, really. Dry spell or not, watching John pull it off with minimal effort sucked.

Sure, he had a lot of things working for him. The guy was loaded, for one. Had more than enough money to net himself a fancy car, his large-ass ranch, and a plane. He’d also had a boat up until Sharky had wrecked it, but that was beside the point. Man had more money than sense, and worked the slick lawyer angle for all it was worth. He’d listened in on enough convos to know just how many women in the county dug it. Shit, men too.

Plus the whole property on the water was a real panty dropper. At least going off of what his Auntie had said shortly after John had first bought it, gossiping with Sharky about the costs and expenses that came with it.

Then she promptly turned the talk on its head by launching into talking about John’s ass instead.

His drink hadn’t stayed in his mouth for long, and she’d dropped her forlorn sighing long enough to tell him not to stain the carpet. That he had to hear and think about John’s ass at all wasn’t fucking fair, especially since he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t that much of a draw to begin with. He’d checked.

Whenever John’s back was turned towards him, he’d sneak a look to see what the deal was only to be disappointed. Better asses were walking around Hope County right this moment, his included, but good luck trying to argue that with her. Or even get three words in edgewise before wanting to slap some sense into himself.

Besides, John’s eyes were better. Hands down, Sharky knew they’d been his ticket to pound town on more than one occasion, needing only to show them off and say a few fancy words to seal any kind of deal.

Dropping the wood onto the ground, he crouched down low. Stared at the wood grain of the plank to clear his mind a little before shifting his attention back towards John.

Shit, were they still talking?

He rolled his eyes. Whatever John was saying couldn’t have been that good, and any joke? Nowhere near funny enough to get a giggle like that.

At that time, John turned, giving him a look over his shoulder as Sharky became well aware of two sets of eyes on him. The woman for one, and the pretty boy lawyer that had been eating up every last shred of her attention until now.

A cross between smug and expectant, John gestured towards him.

Well?

Sharky knew three ways to tell someone to get fucked, but picked the least subtle one just in case.

Shocked for a second, John closed his mouth. But soon after, he pressed a hand to his chest, looking hurt. It was pretty convincing, making Sharky feel for a moment that he’d done something shitty like kicked a puppy.

Shame it didn’t reach his eyes. Or match the sharp smile that crept in.

“Smug-ass, smirking fuckface,” Sharky muttered, throwing the wooden plank to the side.

But not even that stuck around either. No, John flashed his pearly whites at the woman with him too, making her melt right in front of them.

Salt in the motherfucking wound. That’s what it all was, but lucky for him he only had a few more hours left to go. Then he could go home, get in a kickass shower and see what Hurk was doing.

Standing up, he wiped his face down with his handkerchief. If this had been anytime during the summer he would’ve been dying, but at least the weather was working in his favor. The breeze took the edge off just enough, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds to soak it all in.

“Oh, Charlemagne?”

Grating right on his ears, the pitch John used never failed to make him want to grind his teeth together. That, and saying his name. Kept on doing that well after being told he could call him Sharky. Shit, even his grandma used it sparingly.

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing over there-“ John froze, and all smugness vanished.

That put him on edge. “Yo, you wanna expand on that, amigo?”

Slowly turning around, Sharky caught the small creature on the ground and felt every hair on him stand on end. Black and white, and assuming the posture any pissed off animal would, it stood tall for its small size with its tail up, ready and aiming right at him.

Skunks, though, had never liked him. Guess he’d earned that after the whole kissing one bit. So, staring down what he was sure had to be some distant relative out for revenge, he did what came naturally.

Yelled. Loudly, and might’ve sealed his fate right then and there.

Hit, but not in the eyes – thank Hurk’s monkey Jesus for that – he sprinted down towards the river and dove right in.

Grabbing his cap, he kept it in hand as he bobbed back up to the surface. The smell hit as he gulped down air, and he furiously paddled away from the shore when he realized he’d been followed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

This was fucking bonkers, and it was only getting worse.

Could skunks swim? Did they have a sense for it, or was he getting played by the only one able to? Was this the moment some poor guy was going to have to act out in the movie about his life? Swimming out, smelling to high heaven as a rich asshole laughed it up from the shore?

Fuck, he hoped to hell not, 'cause he’d lived an okay life up ‘til now. And having that be the moment he’d be known for immortalized up on the silver screen was just lousy at best.

Looking back, he watched as the skunk gave him the evil eye for a minute, pacing back and forth as it thought about shooting at him again. Little fucker wasn’t done yet, but couldn’t fire another round off from where it was.

John on the other hand, was watching the whole thing develop from a distance. He hadn’t taken off, but wasn’t laughing like he thought he would either. If anything, his gaze was sharp as he aimed it over at the skunk camping him out, and kept it set in place as he approached the boathouse.

Whatever the hell he had in mind, Sharky hoped he’d do it, and do it fast.

Shit, if he ended up zapped too, that’d also make his week, but for now he needed to keep swimming, and tried to see if he could make his way back towards land. His arms and legs weren’t tired, but the water wasn’t getting any warmer, and this was more of a workout than he’d planned for.

The skunk did not let up, following his drift.

“Seriously? Don’t you got something better to get up to?”

No, it didn’t, and he paddled harder hoping to get some kind of a lead on it. Kicked enough with the intent of making a break for it as soon as he hit land.

Maybe he could shimmy up a tree? Nah, he’d be a sitting duck, worse off there than here. Get back to his car on the way? His keys were swimming in his pocket right now, along with-

Aw, dammit. There went that phone. Sputtering into the water, he coughed around the word that would’ve come out otherwise, then gave it up to keep on swimming.

On the edge of the shore, he dragged himself up and out and booked it. Didn’t see anything waiting for him, but didn’t waste time either. Just hit the nearest patch of tall bushes and stayed low.

Waiting was the worst part. Waiting, listening, and trying not to make too much noise on his end. Every branch, twig, and leaf was the enemy now, and he wasn’t about to let that skunk get the drop on him again.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Loud squeaking sounded off in the distance, and he poked his head out from the bush.

Scanning left and right, Sharky checked for black and white. That and movement. When neither seemed to be present, he pushed his way forward and stepped out into the open.

Letting out a slow breath, he shook his hat out and slipped it back on. Then took in a tentative sniff as he raised his arm. The smell hung around him like a cloud, and getting a bigger whiff of it only made him want to gag.

Peeling the shirt off, he wrung it out, and gave it a smell as well. Now that made his eyes water. With his luck his jeans were just as bad, and he didn’t bother checking. Just pulled them off to get some of the water out of them too, and resigned himself to drip-drying the rest of the day outdoors.

“Charlemagne? You can come out now!”

John. Guess he’d found a way to deal with it after all.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“Ugh, fucker. Took him long enough.” Groaning to himself, he slung his wet clothes over his shoulder and started heading towards the clearing.

“Well, there you…are?” John gave him a quick once over as he walked past, and pursed his lips. “Hmm.”

The woman with him didn’t even try to make eye contact. Just kept her attention directed elsewhere, her cheeks tinted red.

Great. Not that he was trying, but his odds of getting even a pity look in passing had all but tanked.

“Yo, I don’t wanna know what you did, but after that? My bullshit meter’s maxed, so fuck off.”

Prying his keys out of his pocket, Sharky unlocked the trunk of his car and threw the clothes into the back of it. Between the gas cans and propane tanks he’d thrown back there often enough, skunk wasn’t going to add much to the smell in there.

“Fuck off? That’s not very kind, all things considering.”

The trunk dropped, and he might’ve used more force than necessary. “Kind?”

“Not even a thank you?” John eyed him from a distance, smug, but only for a second. “After chasing off your little tormentor? Such a shame, really.”

“That I ain’t feeling, what? Warm gratitude towards you right now? Like happy and fuzzy shit?”

John scoffed. “Hardly.”

“'Cause you’re making a whole lot of noise for nothing, and I wouldn’t be out here busting my ass at all without you to begin with.”

“Oh, my dear Charlemagne,” he watched as John withdrew a blue handkerchief from his jean pocket, and held it up to his face to cover his nose, “I’m hardly the one at fault here.”

His patience snapped like a brittle twig. Rattling off words as fast as they came to him, Sharky scraped for the bottom, tried actively to come up with the most out of bounds targeted insults he could conjure up just to see if he could wipe what he was sure was a smirk right off of John’s face.

Then nearly crashed into the woman who had stepped into his path. Making full-on eye contact now, she gave him a hesitant, but soft smile. “I think this might help.”

In her hands was a towel. A nice, fluffy one, and she held it out towards him.

The anger drained out of him as he stared at her. Almost as if someone took an ice bucket and dumped it right over his shoulders.

Gingerly taking it, Sharky let it dangle in the air between them. “Uh, thanks?”

“Of course. For anyone in need, and you certainly seemed to be. Considering your lack of…clothing in general right now.”

Still had the underwear on, at least. Blushing five different shades of red, he quickly wrapped the towel around himself. “Yeah, um, thank you again, miss.”

She nodded, and headed back towards John. “We’ll be heading out, but can we expect you at mass later tonight?”

John lowered the handkerchief just enough for Sharky to catch the frown. “If work allows it. There’s still a lot left to do here, but you can let Joseph know I’ll try.”

Sharky pulled up a corner of the towel to wipe his face, no longer able to hear much of what was traded between them. Lady hadn’t even flinched at the smell up close, and the towel was a nice one. Nicer than any of the kind he had at home, and must’ve been in the basket she had with her.

Yeah, got that pity look after all. Great.

Staring down at his feet, he removed his cap to run a hand through his hair. The hushed voices behind him eventually stopped, and by the time John walked over he’d switched to looking out over the water.

“That was interesting.”

“Sure,” Sharky said, tired of arguing with him.

“And there went our progress for the afternoon. At least the morning wasn’t a complete waste, but our guest derailed us thoroughly. And I don’t believe you have a change of clothes, do you?”

Sharky rubbed his shoulder, and felt it twinge in response as he moved it. He badly needed a cigarette, and was desperate enough to see how many times it’d take for a wet one to actually light.

“Do you?”

“Look, I get what you’re asking. And no, I’d have-“ John raised the handkerchief again, and the words died in his mouth. “You know what? Forget it. And if you’re looking to avoid this shit, don’t stand downwind of it. Basic Scouting 101 right there.”

Sharky whipped the towel off and threw it at him.

John snatched it out of the air, keeping it from smacking him in the face. “Leaving?”

Not bothering to check behind him as he approached his car, Sharky flashed him the finger.

“You can take this with you, you know.”

That John didn’t take the bait, or fight him on it, only irritated him further. He also seemed to be following him, and Sharky scowled at him. “Don’t need it.”

John sighed, and put away the cloth. “Charlemagne, it’s a towel, and you’re still soaking wet.”

“And maybe I want the draft to help dry the swamp ass brewing here, okay?” he shot, climbing in behind the wheel. “And if you wanna give me shit for cutting out early, tack on more hours as a penalty, whatever, I’ll deal with that next time. Or, hell, the time after, as long as it doesn’t mean I’m still standing here talking any of this shit with you. That work?”

The thin line John had pressed his lips into told him otherwise, but he said nothing. Just crossed his arms before holding out the towel to him one last time.

Sharky hit the gas and didn’t look back.

[thewritewolf]

Eating Habits Chapter 4: The Calm

Adrien has relaxing morning before going out into town with an old friend. Marinette overworks herself.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi.

Adrien stretched out, the pleasantly warm beams of the morning sun bringing an unconscious smile to his face. While he’d always been a morning person, his childhood schedule often had him getting up well before the sun, never getting to enjoy the first rays of dawn. That wasn’t something he intended to take for granted any time soon.

The sunlight seeped into his bones and warmed his heart as he rolled out of bed, taking extra care to avoid disturbing Plagg as he lay sprawled on his back on Adrien’s pillow. He tucked his feet into a pair of cute black slippers Marinette had made. Their floppy cat ears and green googly eyes never failed to put him in a good mood. Or in this case, an even better mood.

His morning routine went by in a serene blur. He crooned love songs in the shower. Took a little extra time messing with his hair. Danced while he dug through his closet for an outfit to wear today. He gently picked up his still-sleeping kwami and tucked him into his shirt pocket. Today was going to be a great day, he already knew it. As he stepped into his kitchen, it felt like nothing could ruin his good mood.

Except perhaps for the appearance of an envelope on his countertop.

His smile quickly melted from his face as he recognized the familiar handwriting. He vaguely remembered bringing it in yesterday after a long shift at the bakery. Wednesdays were always pretty busy for some reason or another. His fingers traced the edge of the envelope. Deciding that he’d better get it over with, he carefully and methodically opened it and pulled out the letter.

Before he could subject himself to reading the thing, there was a loud knock at his door that nearly had him drop it in surprise. He cracked open the door, which was all the invitation Chloe needed to strut inside. She lowered her sunglasses as she peered around his apartment and sniffed dismissively.

“A little quaint, but better than that damn cavern you grew up in.”

“Good morning to you too, Chlo.” He shook his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Adrikins. It’s a lovely place. Maybe not the Grand Paris, but...” They exchanged cheek kisses. She raised an eyebrow at the letter he was holding, snatching it from his hand. There was a teasing lilt to her voice as she said, “Oh? What’s this? Love letters, maybe? You’re certainly enough of a romantic to insist on something as ancient as these.” Her eyes narrowed as she skimmed. “I see.” She crumpled it up and threw it into the garbage.

“Hey! I hadn’t-”

“Trust me. He didn’t have anything of value to say, the rotten bastard.” She clapped her hands together and gave him a gleaming smile. “Now! Are you ready to start our day out, Adrikins?”

Feeling a little miffed at her brashness, Adrien played dumb. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve got a girlfriend, you know.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and so do I.” She crossed her arms. “I’m here to hang out with my friend, you ridiculous boy. I’d hope you’d at least remember that much, since this was your plan.” She walked towards the door. “Let’s get moving, I’m not going to be in Paris forever.”

He chuckled as he followed her out. Adrien usually preferred taking the stairs, but unsurprisingly Chloe lead him into the elevator.

To fill the silence, Adrien asked, “Girlfriend, huh? So you and Kagami are back together again? Or is it someone I don’t know about?”

“Like anyone else could handle me, Adrikins.” She snorted, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Marinette becoming a thing turned out to be a blessing in disguise. If that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have found Kagami tearing up in the girls’ locker room.”

“Should I say it just like that when I give a speech at your inevitable wedding?”

“Maybe. Two girls brought together when their mutual beard got taken away from them. A classic love story.”

The two of them shared a laugh and just like that, it was like old times again. The conversation, mostly gentle barbs and jabs traded between them, carried on through their walk through several shops. Naturally, with Chloe present they had to stop at a few boutiques to update her wardrobe. Several years in New York with her mother had left her fashion decidedly American rather than French. After a few hours of shopping and a brief stop for lunch, they arrived at the main focus of their excursion.

Adrien’s cooking class. He’d made the arrangements to join the class after he had gotten back from Marinette’s earlier that week. It was just good fortune that placed Chloe in town just as he was about to go into his first class.

“So… why the sudden interest in cooking, Adrikins?” Chloe asked as she tied her apron strings behind her.

“...It’s a useful skill to have. I love cooking.”

“Ah, you’re being sneaky. Got it.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they listened with the rest of the class to the instructor. With the wide smile the teacher wore as she looked into each of their faces, Adrien could already feel his nerves relaxing. This wasn’t like the instructors he’d been provided as a child, always seeking flaws and failings. He reassured himself that he was going to a good time.

While they were in the middle of preparing the sauce, Adrien asked, “So… New York. Missing it already?”

Chloe paused. She sighed. “Not as much as I was missing Paris.”

“Really?” Adrien frowned. “I guess it’s easier to meet up with Kagami if you don’t have to take a flight every time you want to date, but…”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Chloe waved her hand impatiently. “It’s just… it’s been hard, you know? Trying to be a better person. For you. For Kagami. For all my friends. And it hasn’t been any easier spending all that time with mom.”

Adrien winced. It wasn’t hard to believe - Audrey was about as awful as they came, outside of supervillain circles. “Does that have anything to do with this visit? And why you and Kagami just got back together?”

“...Yeah. I was thinking… maybe this didn’t just have to be a visit.”

“You want to move back to Paris?” Adrien failed to keep the shock out of his voice. “You were so excited for New York, though.”

“It’s alright, but it’s not home.” Chloe sighed. “You know?”

He thought about the bakery and all the happy memories he’d made there. All the patrols that had devolved into late night cuddles on the Eiffel Tower. Games of tag across the rooftops of Paris. Deep conversations held in the towers of Notre Dame. The city was his home; he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be away from it for so long.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get what you mean completely.”

The conversation petered out as they turned their focus towards finishing the class. A few more details slipped past, though - while she would be living there for a while, she wouldn’t be moving back to the Grand Paris Hotel. She wouldn’t be moving in with Kagami either. After having her mother’s assistants breathing down her neck for a few years, some time to herself was just what she needed. Taking things slow never came easily to Chloe, but she was trying her best this time.

Once class finished, they said their goodbyes. Adrien headed back to his apartment having recaptured some of that positivity that he’d woken up with. It was still early in the afternoon by the time he’d gotten home, on a day he didn’t work, but his usual means of passing the time wouldn’t be getting out of class for a few more hours. As he puzzled out what he’d do until then, his stomach growled. That dish he’d made in class smelled wonderful…

A few plates of homemade lasagna and a few movies later, and the sun was beginning to set. He’d had a beautifully unproductive day, which was just what he needed.

“Well, look at you,” Plagg said with a grin, slowly eating through his own plate of lasagna. “Finally get some time off to yourself and what do you do with it?” He took a huge bite, devouring the last of his slice. “Absolutely nothing!” He sniffed, as if holding back tears. “I’m so proud!”

With a faint smile, Adrien replied, “Coming from anyone else, I’d think you were being sarcastic. But thanks, Plagg.” He set his plate on the table and Plagg pounced on it, devouring the remainder of it. “Its relaxing not to be led by the nose across Paris. Always glancing at my phone to make sure I’m on time. Always doing something, never a moment of downtime.”

Plagg’s ears twitched and he tilted his head at Adrien. “You’re stressing out, aren’t you?”

“Was it that obvious?” Adrien deflated a little. “It just… it feels wrong. Not doing anything for a whole day.”

“Get used to it, young man. We spent all that time getting your task masters to put down that whip, I’m not about to let you pick it up yourself.” He floated up to Adrien’s face. “But hey! Don’t worry, you’ve got the king of naps and relaxation here to teach you everything you need to know, kid!”

Adrien smiled and rolled his eyes. “Sure, Plagg. I’ll defer to your expertise in this.”

“I’m glad-”

“Your much greater, wider breadth of experience.”

“Yes, thank-”

“Your unbelievably vast knowledge of the lazy arts.”

“I prefer the ‘way of ultimate relaxing’.”

Adrien chuckled and scratched Plagg between the ears with one finger. “I’m sure you do, little guy. Although, now that you’ve mentioned taking it easy…” Adrien pulled out his phone and scrolled down to the contact, ‘Mari’, surrounded by cutesy emojis. The phone began to ring…

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

Marinette’s eyes were burning from how long she’d kept them open today. Little sleep last night and it was looking like little sleep again tonight. But she needed to get this dress ready in time for the critique next week. No matter what she did, though, she couldn’t enter the right state of mind to just zone out and let the art flow through her. It came as a welcome relief when her phone rang. She even let out an affectionate sigh when she saw who it was that was calling her.

“Hey, kitty. What’s up?” She stood up, taking this break as an excuse to stretch her legs a little.

“Nothing much. Spent the day hanging out with Chloe while she was in town.”

“Chloe, huh?” Marinette had mixed feelings about Chloe, but it had definitely improved after they all rallied together for Adrien’s sake. She’d been beyond helpful during that terrible month, but it was only one step toward making amends for the years and years of torment.

“I know, I know. But she’s been doing good. That time in America really helped her. Or, at least, it helped her decide what she didn’t want to be.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “You say that like she’s done living in the States.”

“From what she was saying, it sounds like she is. Don’t worry, I won’t try to get you two to get along. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Glad to know I can still teach cats new tricks,” she said teasingly. “But if that’s the case, then you probably didn’t call me to chat about that. What’s on your mind, hot stuff?” She stretched out on the couch. “Knowing you, I’m sure it's something romantic or something ridiculous. Probably both.”

“You know me so well, bugaboo.” His laugh came through, clear as a summer sky. “Well, we’re getting pretty close to our six year anniversary…”

“Six years…” Marinette whispered in awe. “Doesn’t feel nearly that long, but at the same time feels like our entire lives.”

“I understand completely. Hard to imagine a time before we were together, love bug.”

“Still, we’re a little under three months away from it. What did you want to talk about?” There was a silence on the other end. “...Adrien. You weren’t thinking of making plans already were you?”

Silence. “...No.”

Marinette laughed. “Sunshine, you’re ridiculous.”

“Mhm. And, if I were planning our anniversary date, which classy restaurant would you like to go to?”

“Do we really need to go somewhere?” Marinette asked as she sat up on the couch, elbows on her knees. Tikki glanced over her cookie at Marinette, tilting her head in a silent question. “What about just staying home and cuddling? Movies and junk food and a big, warm blanket?”

“Hm…”

“What?”

“Just trying to decide if that is ‘Marinette the exhausted student’ or ‘Marinette who hates the cold’ talking here.”

“It’s ‘Marinette who just wants to spend quality time alone with her boyfriend’, actually.” Tikki snickered silently and returned to eating her cookie.

“ I love spending time with you, but you also refuse to let me spoil you except on special occasions. What’s more special than our anniversary?”

“I’m just saying, I’ll probably be exhausted with finals and want to just stay in by that point.”

“Speaking of which,” Adrien said as he blatantly changed the subject, “how have you been doing on sleep?”

Marinette bit her lower lip as she debated whether or not she should downplay just how little sleep she’d been getting. Before she could respond, she heard Adrien sigh.

“That bad, huh? Listen, can you do me a favor?”

Always willing to help out others, Marinette replied without thinking, “Of course!”

“Go to bed early tonight.”

“But-”

“I know you probably have things to do, and I know you think you absolutely have to get them done tonight. But I promise, you don’t. And we both know the quality will be better anyway if you can get in the zone and not fall asleep halfway through.”

She pouted in silence. There wasn’t anything she could really argue - he’d got her pegged there. A downside to him knowing her so well.

“Mari? I need you to promise me you’ll go to bed early tonight. Please?”

She finally broke down. “Okay, okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Marinette stood up to run her hand over her latest piece while Adrien continued talking. “So how has this week been going? Anything new to tell?”

As Marinette began to fill him in on what she’d been going over in her classes, she resumed work on her dress. If she was going to live up to this promise, she’d need to get plenty of work done right now. No matter how exhausted she was.

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

It was a couple hours after Adrien had gotten off the phone with Marinette, getting close to midnight. Normally, he knew that Marinette was as good as her word. She’d bend over backwards if it meant fulfilling all her obligations to people.

Unfortunately, she often didn’t take herself into consideration there.

Adrien trusted Marinette. He’d trusted her with his life more times than he cared to remember. But even so, he didn’t hold out hope for how well his little loophole worked out. Getting her to take care of herself and painting it as a personal favor was a little sneaky of him, but if it worked then it would be worth it.

“Sorry, Plagg.”

His kwami looked up from where he was laying, caught in a kwami-sized food coma. “Wha-?”

“Claws out!”

A flash of green light later and he was crawling out his window. Soon enough his feet were on the rooftops, the crisp autumn air in his lungs as he ran across the city. Less than ten minutes later, he was crawling into another window. As his boots hit the ground, Marinette jolted from where she was standing over her project.

She whipped around, eyes wide. “Adrien!” She tried to put herself between her and the dress. Given how small the love of his life was, it didn’t do anything to conceal what she’d been up to just moments before. “I can explain, I promise!”

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Um…” She wrung her hands and visibly struggled to come up with anything before hunching over in defeat. “Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like. I just need to finish this piece before I go to bed.” She moved as if to turn around. A small smile tugged at his lips as he caught her wrist.

“Mari, it’s time for bed,” he said gently.

“I’m not tired,” she replied while trying to stifle a yawn.

“I’m sure you aren’t.” He pulled her towards himself and swept her off her feet.

She immediately melted into his arms, leaning her head against his chest as he carried her. Even so, she blearily looked up at him and pouted.

“Hey! I need to finish my…” She yawned again and made a motion with her hand as she tried to think of the right word, “...thing.”

“Your ‘thing’ will be waiting for you when you’re awake and perky tomorrow.” He entered her bedroom and set her down in her bed. He tucked her in and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, lovebug.”

He tried to walk away, but she snatched his hand. “Stay with me? Until I fall asleep, at least.” She stretched as she got comfortable. “It’ll be a while though. Since I’m not tired.”

Fighting down a smile, he laid down on the sheets next to her. Immediately she draped an arm over him and rested her ear against his heart. She sighed in contentment as he began purring.

They chatted for a little while, but contrary to Marinette’s blatant lies, she was exhausted. Hardly a few minutes had passed before she was soundly asleep and he was able to slip away. As much as he’d love to spend the night here, her bed was too small for the both of them. Prying himself away, he rushed back home.

After he dropped his transformation and Plagg floated away grumbling, Adrien started getting ready for bed himself. He settled into his too large bed and opened his phone as he waited for exhaustion to hit. Which is when he noticed that Alya was active on discord. Remembering his brush with her in the halls of Marinette’s apartment a few days ago, he sent her a message.

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

Direct message from Adrien

Adrien: You awake?

Alya: The truth never sleeps, blondie

Alya: Although... The truth IS feeling a little tired though

Adrien: lol, that’s fine I was about to head to bed myself Sorry to bother you

Alya: Nah, that’s fine Get back here centerfold What’d you want to talk about?

Adrien: Well… Marinette

Alya: Our favorite topic, lol I take it this is about how she’s running herself ragged?

Adrien: Yeah We’ve seen it before A lot I’m just worried Like always

Alya: I hear you I’d love to say homegirl can handle herself but Shes great at taking care of everyone BUT herself Which is where we come in

Adrien: Glad we’re on the same page So what’s the plan?

Alya: Well You know how she gets If we don’t pay attention she’ll end up starving herself Too focused on what shes doing to care about How SHE is doing

Adrien: yeah I had to go over and put her to bed myself today

Alya: Lol sounds aobut right Between the two of us we can watch out for her She’ll need lots of extra tlc But I’m sure you don’t mind that, huh lover boy?

Adrien: You caught me I love my girlfriend to pieces And this is a good excuse to dote on her

Alya: Attaboy I’ll do my part too

Adrien: Thanks, Alya

Alya: Don’t sweat it, blondie Just do right by my girl and we’ll be square

[courtneyyharper]

Depopin’

Hello folks, another day in the life of lockdown and another article to fill up “five” minutes of your time. One way I’ve been spending my time is spending some more time on my Depop account and just thought I’d share my knowledge (what little I have) with you all.

I’ve personally been using Depop for close to two years now and genuinely when I first started I thought nothing would come of it. Then one day I randomly sold my denim jacket for nearly as much as I had bought it for originally. From then it’s been a steady process of learning the ropes and although I am by no means a professional at this or making an income I do enjoy it. There are ways to make a brand out of this with wholesale goods and making your own goods etc. but these are just tips for anyone like me just trying to make a little extra money, save some money and be more sustainable even with fast-fashion.

So, I’m going to talk you through what to do before you start selling, how to sell and ship and even how to pick up a bargain for yourself…

Before you start…

Okays, I’m not going to go through the actual making of the account. I’m pretty sure you guys have got that covered. Make your password secure and stuff.

On to finding stuff to sell. My most popular items have always been going out dresses as they’re usually my higher branded clothing, such as Oh Polly etc. You can post almost any type of clothing but the more interesting the more likely it is to sell. Anything you do choose however should be in good condition and something you’d be happy with purchasing yourself. The best-selling items are usually brand new or in close to perfect condition. Every once in a while I like to do a clear out of things in my wardrobe I haven’t worn in a while and although it is up to you what you sell and of course there is an audience for everything I personally try and be realistic about what I can sell and what needs donated/binned.

Next you must be willing to ship the things that are purchased (this is something I struggled a lot with at the start as I learned the best process). I’ll talk more about shipping later but first you need the supplies. There’s nothing worse than receiving a Depop parcel in a taped together plastic carrier bag with your address scribbled on it. My top tip out of this whole article is to purchase some packaging.

Packaging bags can be surprisingly pricey at the post office or in office supply stores so what I first did was buy packs of them for £1 in stores such as Poundworld and Home Bargains which works out at only a few pence per parcel. Even better still if this becomes something you really get into a groove off you can buy wholesale packs of 100 on Amazon and eBay etc in colours. Little things like this can mean a lot to your customer and will actually end up saving you money in the long run.

Now you have the items you’re going to sell and your packaging to do so!

Taking your photos…

Honestly, this is kind of the entire key to selling. If your product looks good, then people will want it. There are three types of photos I like to use:

Website photos:

These ones are usually best if you have no photos in this clothing or would prefer to not be in the photos. They’re the easiest to put up on short notice. You just screenshot the photos from the website where you purchased them. The only problem with this is that some people prefer to see what the clothes look like in real life (I know I do if I’m on the fence) and will most likely ask you to provide a photo which is just effort later. Usually if I’m using these photos, I provide them in addition with some of my own photos or disclose I’m using this because the clothing does not fit so I can’t try it on, hence why I’m selling.

My own photos:

Sometimes I get lucky and I have a nice Instagram picture in the dress or top or whatever it may be but sometimes I have to set aside time to try on and photograph the clothes. When I do this, I like to do it as though it were going to be uploaded for Instagram. If you have someone to take photos of you in them than great but mirror selfies are also grand if you can do them right. That means having good lighting, so that the clothes are highly visible. I try and take them in bright day light, in a clean mirror and with a clean background. No one wants to see your laundry in the background or those water bottles that haven’t moved from your room in two months that we’re all guilty of.

Flatlay:

If you’re not overly comfortable or confident with being in the photo, then you can still take good photos of the product without wearing it. Always make sure your clothing or shoes or jewellery or whatever it is you’re selling is laid out freshly. It really goes without saying but all clothing should be clean and without wrinkles if possible. You can hang them up on a wall or lay them on a clean background on the floor. For this I like using a white wall or a clean block colour blanket, but everyone has their own style when it comes to this. Maybe even add some plant props or other things to spice up your photo but remember to make the product the focus of the photo.

Videos are also an option on Depop but it must be over 5 seconds long and I only like using this for sparkly or metallic items etc to show the real affect in person.

Although this isn’t always the case but when I really organise my page I like my account to look like an Instagram feed itself. It’s not necessary but it can really draw people to your page if they’re just clicking on for a browse.

When taking your photos always get a photo of the front, the back, any close-up details and of course if there is any marks etc on the item you should always show in a photo. You can only post four photos total so try and give people a good idea of what the item really looks like.

Description:

Next you need to describe what you’re selling. All the words you include will make it easier for people to search and find your items.

You should mention what exactly you’re selling along with brand, size, colour and anything else people need to know.

Always mention what condition the product is such as: 10/10, perfect condition, BNWT (Brand new with tags)

Even mention why you’re selling it: no longer fits, doesn’t suit me, ordered 2 sizes, didn’t return in time etc. Especially mention if it is not in perfect condition: small mark on right sleeve but barely noticeable (see photo 4)

#tags: You also have the options to add hashtags to your description to make is easier to find but you don’t need the hashtag to make it searchable. If I mention the brand it will come up in search when people search for the brand name, even without the hashtag.

Although against Depop regulations (so I’m not recommending) if there were to be other keywords (popular and similar brand names to what you’re posting for example) then your post may reach a wider audience…

Everyone has different layouts for their description but here is an example of one I would do:

Oh Polly LOVE ME KNOT dress

Ruched long sleeve bodycon dress in Oyster White

Size 10 (small fitting would fit an 8 also)

Thick good quality material

Bought on Depop and worn once by me

Great condition just won’t wear again

RRP 38 SOLD OUT ONLINE

#nightout #party #ruched

Then simply fill out the information it asks you for again, brand, size, price and shipping price too! (This is separate from price).

Pricing:

People don’t want to be buying things close to full price unless it’s brand new and you have the last available one to buy anywhere. If demand for your product isn’t high, then you’re going to have to be reasonable with pricing. You must remember (unless you’re handmaking your own clothes etc) that you’re not a retailer and people are looking for a bargain. However, every item is different so I can’t really give you a baseline price for items. The best way to learn where to ballpark your pricing is search for other items similar to yours and see what everyone else is pricing them for and if they’re selling well. I usually try and price things around 60-70% of what I paid and over time drop the price if there’s no movement.

You must remember websites are usually running offers on their own items. For example, I had one dress up recently and was getting a lot of messages as I was selling it for half the original price. Recently I had no questions about it at all and while writing this I realised the retailer had it on sale for lower than even that. Pricing can fluctuate daily and sometimes you must wait it out and/or concede to lowering the price.

Reposting:

If your item has been up for a few weeks and still hasn’t been purchased I usually go in and edit my item. Maybe switch the photos around, update the price and description a bit and post it again. This way people see something different and it gets put back to the top of people’s search.

Shipping:

This is the bit my friends ask me about most when Depop is mentioned. It’s also the most effort.

I’ve tried to get into a routine so as soon as someone purchases an item, I like to package it up straight away. Fold the item neatly and put it in its packaging. Make sure the address is correct. It’s always best to direct message the buyer and thank them for the purchase and assure them when you will get it shipped. Communication is key for good feedback later and although not necessary, I usually include a little thank you note in some funky way (at Christmas I sent Christmas cards and lately I’ve been using felt unicorn shapes I picked up in the arts and craft bit of the pound shop).

Now as soon as possible, you usually have about 5-7 days after purchase, take it to the post office. All you have to do is take it to the window where they will most likely ask you to set it on the scales for weighing and do the work for you. Once you’ve done all this once it’s a breeze.

Packaging costs me £3 a parcel (this is for second class, under 2kg, less than £20 value, unsigned and untracked which is pretty standard). However, for safety and for the first few sales I’d spend the extra and send it tracked. This way no one can claim they didn’t receive a parcel.

Top tip: if you’re sending a small package like a single t-shirt, then package it flatly. Sometimes they can fit it through the letter stencil, and you can ship for large letter prices which is cheaper than parcel prices, but this is also up to the cashier’s discretion so don’t count on it.

All current pricing can be found online too! You can print labels here and pay online to save going to the window, but I find it easier in person.

Make sure to get your proof of postage receipt and keep it! I always like to post a photo of this to let them know their item has been shipped and remember to update the shipping status too. Plus, you’ll need it if there’s any problems later.

Feedback:

Remember to leave your buyers honest feedback and hope they leave you one in return. The more positive reviews you have them more people will see you as a trusted seller later.

DMs:

Always try and click on to the app a few times a day and respond to any mails as soon as possible. Usually if you wait a day to respond they’ve already found something else instead.

Likewise, if people like your item feel free to shoot them a message: Hey, are you interested in [insert item]? If you have any questions just let me know! [insert friendly emoji]

Remember it’s all about interaction! Followers and following on Depop mean next to nothing. People use the search bar much more frequently than their timeline.

The Realities of Making Money!

Some weeks I’ll sell nothing on Depop and usually there’s more of these weeks than not but other times I’ll sell a formal dress, a few going out dresses, a jumper and make about £100. Although these weeks are far and few between you have got to persevere.

You should always remember when pricing items that Depop take a 10% fee and Paypal 2.9% after you’ve sold something (it costs nothing to list an item!) and account for this when pricing your items but also remember that people probably won’t want to pay £5 + shipping for a plain black t-shirt from New Look. Honestly, I rarely notice the fee being taken out especially if it is for clothes that I would otherwise just pack away under my bed for years.

Another thing to remember is that even when the money is deposited into your Paypal account you’re more than likely still going to have shipping to pay and packaging costs, so you need to set this aside also.

Buying:

So, when I’m looking for something specific online or find a nice dress that I’m thinking of purchasing then I like to do a quick search for it on Depop. I search the website name for the item (Oh Polly Love Me Knot Dress) and the size I’m interested in. If I find what I’m looking for I like to message the seller with any questions and if it is available. It’s always worth asking (politely!!) if they would consider selling it at a negotiated price or even with free shipping but always be reasonable. I can’t count the times people have asked if I’d sell them dresses that I had listed for £20 for a fiver with free shipping. There’s nothing more irritating. The nicer you are the more responsive they’ll be and want to reply.

I also like to save or like items and come back to them later, as a sort of wish list if I’m browsing. If nothing else the app is always good for getting ideas for future outfits much like a mood board.

In the case anything goes wrong…

Always buy through the Depop app and Paypal! Every once and a while sellers will ask you to pay them through friends and family on Paypal to avoid Depop fees but if you do this you have no way to claim back your money if the item doesn’t arrive. If an item does not arrive to you or someone claims they do not receive yours then this must go through the Paypal dispute system. If your claim is legit then you can easily get your money back so no need to worry and if someone makes the claim against you all you need is your proof of postage (but preferably a tracking number for 100% safety) and you can refute the claim.

With Paypal you’re always protected which is what makes Depop so great to use!

This was a long-winded way of explaining my personal process of Depop and has made it look even more complicated than it really is. Everyone has their own vibe how to Depop so don’t think you have to stick to this.

I love using the app to save money and even when purchasing items like formal dresses that I know I’ll only wear once I can usually find the one I want for a bargain or if I can’t I don’t feel too bad about paying full price because I know I can get some money back for it when I resell it. At least that’s what I tell myself…

Okays, that’s all I have for you today… Happy Depoping!

[gtaaa5mobile]

GTA 5 APK

GTA 5 On Mobile

So the fun part in regards to this variant of the game is that it runs easily on each gadget with more than 1 GB of RAM. Its light-weight since it downloads all the fundamental documents in a hurry, making it considerably progressively charming. Not any more pondering whether you will have enough free space on your mobile. At whatever point you enter another zone, the documents will download right away and stay there until you leave. In any case, that is few out of every odd advancement that was made to GTA 5 Android. The game uses most recent GPU imitating that makes it look similarly in the same class as reassure or PC form. It runs rich smooth gratitude to all the executed game streamlining contents and the online mode enables you to play with individuals from all around the world. A completely useful form of the game is directly here readily available! The download procedure is pretty straight-forward also. All you got the opportunity to do is download the APK record or IPA document and introduce it on your gadget. At that point the game will dispatch and lead you through all the further advances. You won't discover anything simpler than that!

gta 5 mobile

Are we missing something? Grand Theft Auto 5 for cell phones is, as you can figure, accessible in two distinct adaptations. One was created with the idea of clients who utilize gadgets furnished with Android working framework. The other one is definitely made for iPhones, iPads, and different Devices that are fit for propelling the game. For the undeniable reasons the interactivity mechanics were marginally adjusted so as to make it a lot simpler for the clients to make the showing without issues. By and by, the most significant components of ongoing interaction just as key attributes that the game could brag are as yet the equivalent. It implies that we can seek after exceptionally fascinating driving framework, well-created illustrations (which was likewise upgraded for the cell phones), and obviously shooting framework that will speak to the vast majority of you. It is worth to make reference to that as it befits for colossal portable diversions, GTA 5 Mobile doesn't requires very new and exceptionally propelled telephone so as to dispatch it easily, with no issues identified with advancement. Along these lines, so as to appreciate Gta v android or its ios partner, it is prescribed to utilize new, newly discharged telephone that gives you refreshed working framework.

GTA 5 APK Insight Grand Theft Auto V mobile is a notorious action-adventure game that makes you to a universe of composed crimes. Become a dance club owner with the assistance of amazing manager Tony Prince. Welcome acclaimed DJ's Solomon, Tale of Us, Dixon and Black Madonna to enable you to kick the gathering off. It will fill in as a perfect concealment task for your unlawful action as a horde supervisor of San Andreas.

Grand Theft Auto V will give you a chance to see the tremendous universe of Los Santos and Blaint County. The destiny of the youthful criminal, old looter, and an insane mental case will lay in your grasp. Characters will be blended into group wars and governments tricks. To make due in this universe of wrongdoing you should utilize every one of your aptitudes and senses.

How it works? You can play from either a third individual or first-individual point of view. To travel, you will utilize different magnificent vehicles or move around by walking. As a player, you control three lead characters and switch between them during the mission. The story spins around the thefts arrangements. You will participate in shootings, vehicle pursues and more in this vivid ongoing interaction. On the off chance that you perpetrate a wrongdoing the police will scan for you and put you on a needed rundown. You should conceal and keep running from the law. You will finish missions or direct situations with a set objective to finish the story. Outside of missions, you can do what you need. Take as much time as necessary to go around Los Santos and cause some pandemonium! With GTA V mobile you should utilize Rockstar supervisor that is known as the chief's mode. You can make your very own motion pictures utilizing characters that you know from the fundamental plot of the game, people on foot, and even creatures. You can likewise include your own soundtrack! On the off chance that you at any point longed for being a producer and make your own film you would now be able to do it with characters from GTA 5 mobile!

Features of GTA 5 APK What improves it to use from different applications is the issue that you should consider over the present moment, well there are various energizing and astonishing highlights of this application that will leave you constrained to utilize it in any case.

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Still in doubt? You presumably wonder whether there are gigantic contrasts in GTA 5 APK on android or iOS and on PC. All things considered, there are not many changes that should have been performed so as to enable other individuals to make the appearance without the smallest issues. That is the reason, before you choose to utilize one of the GTA 5 download connections you can discover on our page, you should recognize what was changed when thought about GTA 5 iOS /android adaptation and it’s unique as PC variant.

First thing, as we previously referenced previously, is the illustrations. To make GTA 5 versatile all the more benevolent for telephones, the makers connected a great deal of minor changes. Therefore, when you get GTA 5 Android on your mobile, you will most likely make the appearance, remembering that there will be no issues with stops or at all.

Let’s get started Make a plunge directly into the activity of GTA 5 Mobile by downloading the records at this moment! You should simply snap Download for Android or Download for iOS catch and you're good to go. Try not to squander your time on remote ongoing interactions or emulators with stuttery designs. This one gives you a totally different encounter for GTA 5 ongoing interaction.

The game is excessively smooth and runs on the web. What more might anyone be able to conceivably need for their portable! So make the most of your adventure with Trevor, Franklin and Michael through the city of Los Santos. The game anticipates you with great affection to grasp you for quite a long time or even months.

Let's get you in, attempt the accompanying advances. • Click the download GTA 5 APK or GTA 5 IPA document. • If you downloaded the document to your PC/Mac, simply move it to your Android or iOS gadget. • Run the APK and Install it. On Android it might request that you permit the establishment that was obstructed for security reasons - permit the establishment, clearly. • Do that by tapping the Settings button and afterward clicking Allow for GTA 5 Android APK. • The entire procedure may take up to 2-3 minutes relying upon what gadget you have. • Once introduced, run the game from your application cabinet or the work area symbol on your gadget. • The game will at that point download information and OBB record and begin after it completes the procedure. Frequently asked questions Can GTA 5 APK be upgraded?

No its a thrid party application. Can GTA 5 be used in Window? Is GTA 5 is a complete game or a demo? Is GTA 5 available on Playstore?

What is an APK File? It is a short form of Android Package Kit or Android Application Package which is commonly known as APK or File. APK is a file format which Android uses to distribute and install apps. It contains all the elements that an application needs to install on your android phone. This is similar to .Jar files for those familiar with Java. An Android application is compiled to produce an APK file. Overall, in terms of contents, it consists of compiled classes, certificates, resources and libraries required for an App to be executed on Android devices.

What is Mod APK File? GTA 5 APK is not only a preposterously enjoyable video game but also an intelligent wickedly comic and bitingly relevant commentary on contemporary America. it expresses a taste of everything that GTA 4 brought table 5 years ago it technically extra accomplishes and more understandable way but it also tremendously aggressive on right. no other and video game that comes close to this in size or scope and there is sharp intelligence behind his sense of humor and gift for may him its tell compelling variable and interesting story without ever letting or getting off your own self-directed experiences through San Andreas. It is one most more best video game that ever made.

[cecilspeaks]

141 - Save Dark Owl Records

The prison of your own mind is undergoing budget cuts.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Today I’d like to open the show with a statement from a local business owner, Michelle Nguyen.

Michelle: An insidious presence has invaded our town. That presence is located in the Night Vale mall and is called the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. I’ve seen you shopping there, Night Vale, and I want you to know you’re all murderers with the figurative blood of independent record stores dripping from your hands. “No, no” you’ll say, “that isn’t figurative blood, it’s literal barbecue sauce from the Black Angus barbeque bacon burger and it’s delicious!” You’ll keep blathering on how about “Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express keeps thick juicy beef burgers layered in between your albums, so you can flip past them and impulse eat as you shop. It’s so convenient!” [angrily] Well you know what? Convenience is another words for laziness. When you come to my store, to Dark Owl Records, you have to earn your music! Our extensive underground section is kept literally underground, and you have to dig random holes in the dirt to find it. We don’t provide you with a shovel, you can’t even bring your own. You must use your fingers. Broken knuckles and fingernails peeled back to the quick are the sign of a true music lover. Sometimes, you won’t find music you think you like, but then you realize that the rhythmic grunts and scrapes of bloodied hands into rocky earth is itself music.

Anyway, come to my fundraiser tonight at Dark Owl Records. It’s a party, and parties are the worst, but I don’t have the money to pay my bills anymore and it’s your fault, so just show up and do the right thing, or I’ll go out of business. Ok, thanks!

Cecil: Thank you, Michelle. Our radio station is doing a remote broadcast live today at the Save Dark Owl fundraiser. We’ll do some interviews and there’ll be live bands, and it should be a lot of fun. Hope you see you down here, Night Vale! Come show your support for local small business.

But first, a word from our sponsor. Today’s program is brought to you by the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. The popular franchise mashup had its grand opening only three weeks ago and is already a booming success. From their regional frosty treats, like the cactus thorn malt, to their wide selection of best of complication albums. There’s something for everyone at Food Barn Gladtown Records Express. And by popular demand, there’s now extra fry sauce on everything, including the Bluetooth headphones. You don’t even have to ask for it. You have to ask if you don’t want fry sauce, and you have to give a good reason why not, like uh, a signed doctor’s note. Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. Your community entertainment culture conglomerate.

And now, a public service announcement.

Deb: Hey old friends! Corporeal humans, cor-corporeal humans, former babies, future corpses, this is Deb, a sentient patch of haze, speaking for the department of motor vehicles. We know you haven’t heard from us in a while. But [blows raspberry] we haven’t heard from you either. Relationships are a, [clicks tongue] two-way street, so to speak. But [hiccups], I know there’s been some tension and things have gotten a little weird between us. No need to get into that right now. Or ever again, as far as we’re concerned. But if you wanna come over some time and just talk, just say hi or anything, then the department of motor vehicles will be opening our doors for one hour every weekday between 2 and 3. That’s all we have to give emotionally right now. Self..care. We would like to see you again though just to [emotionally] hear your voice. We hope you’ve been doing well. [hiccups] We’re a little drunk, and it’s late. Man, we just got done watching Carol for the third time in a week. [angrily] And you haven’t really been posting on social media lately, so we just wanna know what’s going on with you. [drinking noises] Again, no pressure, no strings attached, and if it gets crowded you could always take a number as usual. But the DMV wants you to know whether your number 19 or 99, you’re always number 1 to us! [snorts] [cries] We, we miss you. We miss you.

Cecil: Listeners, we’re here live at Dark Owl Records, and the fundraiser is getting off to a great start! People are buying shards of records they dug out of the ground, there’s a cake with thick black frosting and undulating tendrils. Mm, looks delicious! There’s an effigy of the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express with a lot of long pins sticking out of it. And at the center of all the excitement is Dark Owl owner herself, Michelle Nguyen, and her girlfriend Maureen. What a treat! Hey you two, wanna say hello to all of Night Vale? Ah that’s weird. Uh, Michelle sent me a text right now while simultaneously staring unblinkingly into my eyes from three feet away. Uh, her text says: “We heard the spot you did for Burger Barn Gladtown Rec Ex and we are not speaking to you at this time. Please leave my party, Cecil.” Oh I get it, oh no, this is a, a simple misunderstanding, Michelle. See, in radio journalism, we have a moral responsibility to play ads and make lots of money. I see where you’re confused. Does that help clear things up? Aaand Maureen is pouring ice coffee all over my laptop. I’ll go find a towel, while you go to the weather.

[A Pale Sun Rises Over New York" by Scrawnyman, https://scrawnyman.bandcamp.com]

Michelle: Hey, this is Michelle. Cecil had to go away, but there was a hastily assumed agreement I would take over the show while he’s gone, so here I am, Michelle. Broadcasting live from my own party, which is better than mingling with people and being all social and stuff, right? Uh, no offense to anyone who’s here, but this is the first party I’ve ever agreed to attend and it was only out of desperation. I mean, all parties are born out of some form of desperation. Ugh, parties are the worst! I wish everyone would go home. No, no, don’t go home, it’s so nice that you’re here… I guess. But you know what else is nice? Being alone. Or mostly alone. That’s really what independent record stores stand for, you know? Individuality, independence, isolation. Don’t follow the herd, go home, be alone. It’s the best. 

Oh shoot, I was afraid something like this would happen. I mean, everything’s fine, there’s just a little situation out back. I’m gonna hand the mic over to Maureen while I deal with this.

Maureen: Um, hello? Hey, uh, this is Maureen. Don’t be scared or anything. A-actually be scared, but not about what I’m going to tell you. So what happened is some people were digging in the underground music section and the ground kind of split apart and now there’s a giant, like arthropod thing. Uh, it’s tearing people’s limbs off and whatever. Seems really mad and people are screaming, there’s like a lot of blood, blood is so stupid. But Michelle has it under control now. She’s kicked out everyone but the spider crustacean thing, because it was the only one who wasn’t being fake about its love of music. So yeah um, come on down to the store. Uh remember: we’re here to save Dark Owl! And even though the biggest section is the not for sale rack, there’s still a lot of great things to choose from. I know that some of the best things I’ve ever found have been here. Michelle, for one. Uh, don’t tell her I said that.

Also earlier today, I was crawling around inside the ventilation system, and I thought it would be really narrow and claustrophobic like air closed shafts usually are, but actually it kept growing wider and taller until I could stand up and walk around. I could even run if I wanted to. The ducts and passageways unfolded in front of me and I felt totally lost, but in a good way. I ran and ran and somewhere along the way I lost my flashlight and it didn’t matter. I could see with a sense other than vision, maybe it was taste. Ductways tasted like an everything bagel, and that guided my way. Then I could taste voices outside the vents. A voice I knew well was talking to a customer about a color limited edition single of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” on one side and “Love Will Keep Us Together” on the other. The record’s cover art depicted the eruption of Mount St Helens, but like a year before it actually happened, which makes it super valuable. I followed the taste of their voices, which was like green apples but the artificial candy flavor version, and I ended up in the obsolete media bunker behind the register, where I lay down on a pile of warm Sheena Easton singles and CD-roms filled with corrupted Limewire files. And that’s where I am now. Aand I’m gonna take a nap. Bye! [snoring]

Michelle: Hey Night Vale, I’m back. It’s all under control now. Sorry, I have kind of a contentious relationship with my neighbor Matt. He’s a 15-foot coconut crab that lives underneath the lot behind our store. We usually get along OK, but he really does not like parties, and I should have told him in advance, but I was busy and totally forgot, so my bad. Anyway, I let Matt eat the patrons who were wearing airpods and he was happy, so the party is still going strong. Most of the people are dead or have been kicked out, but I wanna make it clear that the party is still happening. So come on down to Dark Owl Records and save our store! Honestly, things are so much better now that everyone’s gone, so this is really the perfect time to show up. We have some special listening stations where you can browse all your favorite genres, like silence, post-silence, proto-silence, under-silence… I know you guys might not have heard of under-silence yet, but that’s like when the headphones are projecting what’s inside of you back into your own ears and you can hear your internal organs processing blood and fluids, and you’re filled with the awe of how all these seemingly archaic gooey parts can possibly work together to keep you alive and functioning, and you eventually pass out and/or vomit.

[sighs] I really don’t know what I’ll do if I have to leave this place. I’ve spent so much time here, I don’t even remember where my house is. One night after work, I walked down the street I thought it was on, but nothing looked familiar. And I kept walking for hours. I finally saw my house, but when I walked in, the door opened into the kitchen instead of the living room, and there was this family I’d never seen before eating dinner. There were four large serving bowls of mashed root vegetables on the table. The family didn’t notice me at all, they ate their mush and talked about their days. The mom was worried about the new boss at work, and the son forgot to go to his dentist appointment, and the daughter had a chemistry test that went okay. I didn’t want to freak them out, so I et myself out the back door and kept walking until it as morning. And in the cacophonous creak of dawn, I ended up back at Dark Owl just in time to open for the new day. And it didn’t matter, you know, that I couldn’t find my house because –

Wait, what’s this? An empty-eyed courier child just handed me an envelope. There’s a, there’s a check inside, and it’ a coupon for something called the “100 percent fish hot dog”, and a hand written note. It says, “Hello, my name is Jules, and I’m the franchise owner at the new Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. Here is the rest of the money for your fundraising goal. When you become a franchise owner like me, you’ll think to yourself, ‘oh cool I’m an entrepreneur now, I’m going to be my own boss. I’m finally going to have agency in my life, you know?’ At least that’s what I thought when I filled out he online personality test that told me I had what it takes. I’m a type 23: outgoing but grounded. I’m detail-oriented but I can also see the big picture. I’m competitive, but I follow the rules. Classic type 23.” The note goes on. “But there are so many rules, Michelle. You have to conform when you’re in a franchise. And if you don’t, you’ll go under. Not merely monetarily, but to this place they refer to only as the cavern. If you end up there, you don’t ever come out again. Anyway, one rule is that we need at least one business competitor to remain open at all times. Until our lobbyists overturn the Sherman anti-trust act, we need Dark Owl Records to stay in business. So please take this money. I don’t wanna go to the cavern. Please, Michelle. Sincerely, Jules.”

OK, not sure how to deal with this right now if I’m honest. This person opened up a rival record franchise, and now they wanna give me money from their corporation to stay in business? I dunno. I need to go soul searching. I need to listen to some ambient room tone tracks used under famous movie scenes. I really like the one from the diner in “When Harry Met Sally”. Whatever, I guess. [steps, door closes]

[steps] Cecil: Night Vale, I’m so sorry I left you. I went to get a towel to clean up the spilled ice coffee, and there was this giant spider lobster thing, he-he cornered me and I couldn’t escape. He just kept talking and talking and god, he was boring! The worst person to run into at a party. I didn’t know how to get out of the conversation without being rude, uh I finally said I’d go grab us both a slice of cake and sidled out of there. I hope everything went OK while I was gone. Let’s see. Oh, there’s no one really left. The radio gear has been abandoned except a sleeping Maureen under my chair. There’s an inordinate amount of blood on the floor, and hey looks like the little cardboard thermometer that shows the fundraising goal has been fully colored in! Wow! We did it Night Vale! I guess that means there’s enough money to keep Dark Owl in business, at least through this month’s bills. That’s the thing about bills, they keep happening.

Well, whatever the future holds, the party was clearly a success. As was this ultra fun remote broadcast. So music lovers, kick back, put on your fry sauce-dosed headphones, listen to your newly purchased album shards, and put some vitamin E cream on those knuckles! Stay tuned next for the cla-cla-clack of CD cases being browsed, like a fluttery little heartbeat in the darkness.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: A good way to tell if an artistic idea is worthwhile is to remember that the most successful video game of all time is “a plumber steps on turtles”, so who knows?

[fanesavin]

The High Inquisitor and the Master of Whisperers go tête-à-tête with little progress made on either’s behalf.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (x) | (x) Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (x) (x) | Part 7 | Part 8  (x) | Part 9 (x) | Part 10 | Part 11 (x) (x) | Part 12 (x) | Part 13 (x) (x) ]

@thatwhichbindsus​ 

Unlike the rookery, this meeting room had no windows. It was stale, and still decorated in the House Sharma colours in the tapestries and cloth on the table. The last time she'd been here, Avitej had been a lord, and they'd been planning the last days of the tour in golden firelight. Waiting for the opinion of Prelate Theodore, and smiling over slick comments she'd made. Now, it was cold. Ciara adjusted her gloves on her wrists, for need of something to do. They were new and had not yet worn comfortably - she had bought them to celebrate the coronation, and they weren't yet worn in the right places to be fully comfortable. The dress similarly, she had changed since the morning's banquet. Since meeting Lady Cassandra in the halls and finding the filth that lay beyond. Ciara had left the body with a piece of ripped cloth in her hands, and had hurried from the prison so quickly she worried the guards had heard the secret doors click. No matter now. She startled a little when the door opened, and stood to bow her head towards Lord Savin as he stepped inside. "You asked to meet, my lord?" 

For the duration of his investigations, Fane opted to work out of his private study rather than the council chambers if only to maintain the general impression that he was not nor had any designs on the throne. Power presently resided in his hands, but it was cumbersome and unwieldy; a burden more than a benefit in his opinion. He would not rise about his station nor allow himself to get too big for his boots, for down that road only lay destruction and corruption. Perhaps, if he were a younger man with more ambition he would have considered such a route, but such a man he was not.

The investigation was progressing, albeit slowly. Fane knew more now than he did before and there were pieces of a far larger puzzle beginning to fill in. A timeline of the crown, its whereabouts and several opportunities for it to have been tampered with. The most prominent being in the Kingdoms of Summerset and Kesley, taking it to the blacksmith it had been confirmed that the crown that was used in the coronation was not, in fact, the one that had been commissioned by the High Raj. Fane had been careful in his decision to visit the man in the city, taking a longer route with more stops than perhaps was necessary. But paranoia in these times was unsurprising and after their discussion Fane had come away with a purse far lighter than before for the man to keep such information to himself.

Unfortunately, his return to the castle had been greeted with less than welcome news. Another death, this time the Kesley Lord in the dungeons. Fane had gone their straight and sight that awaited him was a grim one indeed. But mistakes had been made. The guards on duty, who had been the ones to return and find the man when he was due to be given his meal meagerly admitted under interrogation to the Grand Lady and her strange companion’s presence and their claims to be acting on his behalf. For they had not been paid to maintain their silence.

Lies and deceit. The time was slipping away faster by the moment.

“Aye,” he said while shutting the door behind him, one hand moving to rest casually on the pommel of the short blade tucked into his belt the casual stance of a soldier. “Perhaps we’ll start with your own personal deceit, hm?”

He closed the door behind her to hide them from listening eyes and ears, and without pause her eyes slid down to the sword on his hip as he rested his hand on it. A soldier's stance perhaps, but in a lady's presence? It sent a certain message. "Certainly, my lord," Ciara replied with an easy, closed lip smile. "Tell me first, will I be leaving this meeting as green-gilled as our Lord Commander?" He had not spoken of what had happened to anyone, but his actions had spoken clearly for him. Her hands clasped behind her, standing tall and proud, she looked as comfortable as a cat, but did not feel it at all. She blinked, slowly and thoughtfully. "Is this about your men?" She asked, one eyebrow raised. Of her deceits, it was the safest to raise this first as he certainly knew of it, and to her it carried no harm. So late in the evening she had approached a few of his men, one by one, and offered them each something they desired. And each, in turn, had said no, even as the offers had stacked. At the end of the night, she'd thanked them for her time and bid them goodnight. In the morning, ripping a dead man's clothes while trying to remain perfectly silent, she wished she had succeeded.

“Hardly,” he doubted such antics would work on Lady Florent. Too smart by half. “Sometimes we have to make hard decisions to get honest answers.” Fane regretted the things he’d had to do of late, the were extra burdens that weighed heavy on him. Unfortunately, to get to the truth it sometimes meant crossing lines you might not otherwise have crossed. Still, it had got him information at least. There was also the fact that regardless of how much he might wish to charge straight in, there were certain privileges afforded to nobles that others might not have. Which made getting answers all the more difficult and frustrating. Like trying to swim upstream with your hands bound. The tides were against him on this, and Fane wasn’t daft enough not to acknowledge it.

“Aye, in part,” he answered moving further into the chamber and nodding to the chair indicating that she should take it. Equally, Fane moved to assume one opposite. “If you have questions of me or mine ask them to my face, not behind my back. I don’t appreciate my position being undermined by those around me.”

“Is that not how all things are justified?” Ciara returned smoothly. “I jest. I understand well how important taking unsavoury steps is in solving issues the for the greater good.” Ciara’s hands were blood stained because exactly that. Serving lord Sharma even before he’d known it.

She took her seat at directed, leaning forward on to learn as listen, but not improperly

so. He sat too, so he was not looming over her. Of course, there were many ways to establish power over someone, he did not need to look down on her to do so. “To undermine you was never my intent, as it had never been, inquisitor, just as I made no moves to undermine High Raj Sharma. But the truth is a fickle thing. As is trust. It is my job to be suspicious, and to notice things within the ranks of the working classes that others do not.”

“We have to tell ourselves some lie to live with our actions,” but as she admitted, she would know better than most how true that particular statement was, wouldn’t she? Fane leaned back in his seat propping his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers.

“Perhaps not, and I have little doubt you sail whichever tides suit you best, I may be many things but I am not foolish enough to trust you m’lady.” His tone was mild, posture otherwise relaxed “if my men had proven disloyal, how many more opportunities would that offer up? Perhaps many, perhaps none, but give an inch and people will take far much more from you. That, I cannot allow.” His features grew grim, “I wish to work with you, not against you and I cannot see what reason I may have given you to doubt my intentions. I ask you, do you really even care who killed the Raj?” The question hung in the air between them extending into the silence, “knowledge is power, and I think you know much more of it than you have shared with me thus far. My purpose is justice,” his head cocked fractionally, eyes narrowing as he posed his question, “I ask you Lady Florent, what is yours? ”

The more he spoke, the tenser she sat, her eyes narrowing into slits and hands dropping to her lap. Ciara clenched her jaw and sat more upright still, and let that silence extend until it was so long and thin it could have sliced them both in half. “You are not foolish enough to trust me but I am fool for seeing reason to distrust you?” She asked, and her voice was low and sharp as that silence had been.

“What was your purpose here, then, before the Raj died?” She asked, but it was rhetorical. They both knew the official, formal answer he could give her. “Mine is what it always has been since the Cloverry named him, since I helped lead the crown tour which secured his place as Raj, since not one week ago when I knelt for him. I do not recall kneeling for you, lest you forget yourself, Inquisitor.” All of it calm and quiet as ice and not once did she look away, and did not answer any other question. She would not lower herself to intimidation.

Where she sat more upright, growing tenser by the second Fane’s posture remained lax, observant and curious. It seemed in his opinion that he may have touched upon a nerve. “Now you spin words and put them in my mouth so that I might choke on cotton, I called you no fool, I asked what reason I have given for you to distrust me? By extension, what it is I might do to have you see the cause I serve is just?”

“My purpose was simple, to pledge my allegiance to the peace.” He sighed pressing his steepled fingers together, “and no doubt you wonder what reason I give you to trust me, I understand, and rightly so you have no reason to believe me… Words are wind, but if you need measure of my interest in bloodshed look at the recent wars.” They had been well documented after all, and his was not a House that had dealt in civil strife. “My interests are with keeping my people protected. War regardless how distant it might be, serves me no use. My lands are vast enough that I need not more and my region’s construction export wealth enough that I lust not after other treasures.” His were and always had been a simple people, or relatively simple needs. “The Driftwood princes pride themselves on their navy, you pride yourself on your cunning and ability to play the game of the capital, I pride myself on my integrity.”

Her words were frustrating but Fane chose not to let it seep into his posture, though his lips were cast in a frown. “I ask you not to kneel for me Lady Florent, I ask for your help” where his voice had grown a fraction tighter in his impatience with the circles they drew and danced about one another he exhaled, long and winded. He was tired, tired of pandering and wasting time on something that hardly mattered. Closing his eyes he pinched the bridge of his nose, weary with the word games and shifting sands. When he lifted his gaze to look at her his eyes were less harsh but no less determined in their belief and when he spoke it was with the conviction of a man that truly believed the truth of what he said. “I ask you to help me find the murderer of an innocent man, that you chose just as many others did. Yet you resist me in avenging his death. I do not wish nor do I ever wish to fight with you or anyone else and I do not wish to fight on this. He was a good man, perhaps the only one fit for the task set before him. You’re right, perhaps I never did owe him or any other allegiance but I made an oath to protect the innocent, and that is a duty I failed in this week. I will not fail in enacting justice on his behalf.” 

“These are pretty words, my lord.” Ciara said after a while. “I misspoke, I apologise.” She knew of his House’s reputation, and indeed of his own. But reputations could be curated, they gave as much a measure of a man as his bags of gold. Although it was sweet, she supposed, that he thought she took most pride in her cunning.

She stood, and paced on her side of the table, looking not to him but to the steep line of her hands. “Let us say, perhaps, that I name Prince Cardero as my suspect, and you name him to the court. Perhaps the other lords align with you, but the Forty Isles would send their fleets, and through his brother the Summerset forces would join.

“Or perhaps Queen Bellamy is the one, and in response to her execution or imprisonment everything which is terrible leaks out of that forest. The very trees would suffocate us.

“Or let us say, perhaps, that we decide the Prelate is the one who orchestrated this. He would know by the end of the hours and the people who throw us to the sharks themselves.”

Ciara paused, and looked him dead in the eye. “Or perhaps I suspect the lost Lady Parker, the one you are fond of, and you speak to her in confidence with concern. Perhaps you have an alliance with Lady Lacroy that I know not, and when I suggest her name you put that blade through my throat faster than I can gasp. ”

“Lady Cassandra, the young Lord Cardero, some unknown Knight, the priestess who impresses more with every moment that she speaks. There is no one in this castle who is not in some way entangled with another. No name you could accuse without starting a new war. No, perhaps lord Pettaline, but he has not the means.”

She tilted her head, and rested her hands on the back of the chair she had just been seated on. “So no, my Lord. You speak pretty words, and perhaps they are as true as they claim to be. But you cannot serve justice and peace. I cannot be compelled to trust you with so little time, and truth be told, in what you offer, I see only death.”

Fane was silent as she paced and spoke her piece. She was right, and he knew she was right. Pointing a finger and laying blame would do no good unless you have unanimous support. One hand fell to the arm rest while he pressed the other to his face. “And so we should let the person responsible for destroying that tenuous hope of peace walk free?” All for what? “And what if that person, who walks free by our own permission ends up being selected the next High Raj or murders them also? So on and so forth. What kind of peace is that?”

His posture sank at the position they were placed in, an impossible choice. Peace or yet more bloodshed?

The decision wasn’t his, and yet in a way it was.

He dragged his palm slowly over his jaw, his eyes growing unfocussed as he looked to the wall. As if its solid bricks might offer any sort of insight into the answer to their question. “Must the answer for death be death? A punishment must be given, but it does not have to be bloodshed or execution. There are other alternatives.” Fane pushed to his feet, leaning his knuckles on the table and looking over at her insistent. “Help me to find a way that will serve both… I do not wish to see an innocent person blamed for a crime they didn’t commit… If there is anyone capable of finding an answer to that question they are stood before me. Aye, perhaps you do not have faith in me, but I’m willing to take that chance and put my faith in you. But to find the answer we must determine who is responsible… I have some answers, and I have no doubt you do too…”

“Not free, no. They will not have the time to create so elaborate a trap without being caught for the next one, they will have to bide their time, lest they lose every advantage they have stood to gain by their subterfuge. We bide our time also. With patience. These House Games take place over lifetimes, not days.”

“It is peace for the people. To them it hardly matters who as long as they can live in relative safety. A Raj gives them stability.”

He stood, and she smiled knowingly, sympathetically. His clothes were well made but simple. “Exile? Forcing them to remain in their home? Stripping them of titles? All of it will result in war. Not with tensions and alliances like this.” She tilted her head, the scars on her face catching in the light. “When my husband was murdered, the only way to end the war with the family that killed him was to eradicate them. Woman, child, bastard. All extinct. No one wishes to see that repeated.”

She straightened, clasped her hands together. “I respect your obstinance, my Lord, but it does not change my mind. Is there anything else?”

“And yet you are willing to submit us to the risk of being ruled by a tyrant, no matter for how long, you might be able to live with such terms Lady Florent but I shall not.” Fane’s fingers curled on the table that he leaned on. No politeness masking how he felt presently. Disappointed but not disillusioned. If truth brings war, then so be it. Truth will out. No matter the means.

Her smile only served to sicken and enrage him more. A part of him wanted to turn the table on end, but what use would it do? To throw a fit of rage would only serve to weaken his position further than it already had. Tension rippled through his tall frame and he had to slowly expel it in the act of pushing himself back and rocking to his feet. “You can’t know they’ll end in war, you are many things m’lady but you are not a seer.”

A part of him wished to retort, but he opted instead to bite his tongue. He took measure of her and the situation at hand. Nothing he could say would change the way of things it would appear, “from you, it would appear not. But do not think I will forget this Lady Florent, and if we happen to live to see the monster of your own creation… Pray the gods have mercy.” He looked as though he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. Grimacing he afforded her the degree of a small and rather forced dip of his head before giving her a pointed look and leaving the room feeling as though he’d much rather be eviscerated on the spot than spend a moment longer with her in his company.

Ciara nodded, absorbing his righteous anger entirely as he restrained himself masterfully. He rose, and she nodded at his next truth. She was no seer. This was true. Nor was he. Nor did she believe him entirely - she hadn’t spoken her full truth and expected him to have kept something back too.

The monster of her own creation. Ciara swallowed and raised her chin as he turned, and dipped her head too. She blinked and sagged as he left, cradling her face in her hands. Whose gods, she wanted to ask. Hers, the Trinity, or the Sea God, or the Cloverry? As she stared at the tapestry that dangled beside the door, there was only one who she wanted the mercy from.

Because in truth, when it came to finding Avitej’s killer, it was not justice she wanted, but revenge. Only her fealty to the dead Raj mattered more.

[thatwinchesterfever]

Just Another Day (Office AU, Part 1)

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (Female)

Summary: The Reader has been Dean Smith’s hardworking assistant for the past few months now and things have been going great. That is until people start dying at Sandover. And what’s with that freakishly tall IT guy that keeps bothering her and talking about ghosts in the elevator? 

Word Count: 2,265

Warning: Language

Author’s Note: Remember the “It’s a Terrible Life” episode? Yeah, this is that. But with the Reader added to the mix and a few things changed. This is only Part 1 so there is definitely more to come! Leave me comments, honest opinions, and a thumbs up if you like anything you read :)

Your day officially started at 5:00. Every single weekday, sometimes on the weekends. It was a uniform schedule really. You would wake up, take a shower, put on your clothes that you pressed and ironed the night before, water your plants, and be out the door by 6.

You always walked to work in the morning. Traffic was too hectic to catch a cab and you also had to make a stop on the way. It was a pain in the ass to make the particular stop but you knew you wouldn’t be able to set foot inside your office without it.

You grumbled every time you opened the door to the Starbucks and would hear the jingling of the bell above your head. It wasn’t that you hated Starbucks, you actually loved it. They made damn good lattes. The problem was the wait. The place always had a line outside the door and it always had 2 or 3 asshole customers. You hated waiting in line as much as the next person but there was no reason to take it out on the staff. That’s why you always tipped and tried to muster up a smile despite how early in the morning it was.

You usually didn’t even have to place an order once you got up to the register. You’ve been there so many times that the staff knew your order by heart. A Venti Café Macchiato with skim milk, an extra shot of espresso, and a whole grain muffin, and a Grande Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of Vanilla with a blueberry muffin.  Your order obviously being the latter. Your boss had a healthier and more refined palate than you did.

Typically, after your Starbucks run, you had a 10-minute walk to the office building. The tricky part was always making sure the Starbucks was still hot once you reached your desk. Your boss hated cold coffee.

The worst was always when the elevator was out of service and you had to climb all the way up to the 12th floor. On those days, you made sure to move quick enough but not fast enough to make you sweat like a pig. You’ll be damned if you ever showed up to work flustered, and unprofessional. And you could only go so fast in heels anyways. But for the most part, the elevator was usually working. And you always arrived at your desk on time. 7:15.

At 7:30 exactly, on the dot, your boss would walk through the glass doors, tapping away on his cell phone in concentration, his workbag hitched on his shoulders.

You gave him a small smile. “Good morning, Mr. Smith.”  

Mr. Smith looked up from his phone and gave you a small nod. “Morning, Y/N.”

You reached for a folder and the newspaper that sat on your desk. “You have a meeting today at 10, an appointment for 1:30, and a phone call conference for 3. I already filed the paperwork for Miller and straightened out the whole Templeton fiasco. Turns out it was a simple case of miscommunication…Oh and your fun fact for today would be that Led Zeppelin were huge Lord of the Rings fans.”

Mr. Smith chuckled while taking the newspaper and folder from your hands.

“Zeppelin? Really? Is that the type of music you think I listen to?”

You shrugged. “Wild guess, maybe? I mean, you don’t listen to the stock market reports on the radio or NPR, right?” Mr. Smith looked down sheepishly at the folder in his hand and began to leaf through the papers.

You let out a laugh. “Oh my gosh! You do!” You noticed the tip of your boss’ ears began to turn red with embarrassment.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing the Johnson file right now?” He grumbled, beginning to walk away from your desk.

“Don’t worry Mr. Smith, your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I think you’re a secret Zeppelin fan at heart.”

He waved you off. “Back to work Ms. Colt.”

“Mr. Smith.” You sang.

Mr. Smith turned around to you once more and you held a Starbucks cup and bag out in front of you with an innocent grin. He shook his head.

“I would sink without you.”

“Indeed.”

You don’t really remember how you stumbled onto Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. It just sort of happened. One day you just found yourself on the 22th floor of Sandover in Dean Smith’s office. According to your research, he was an up and coming force in the business, with the title of Senior Partner almost in his grasp. All at the ripe age of 30. And he was looking for an assistant. A lot of rumors circulated about Dean Smith. A lot of people said he was a hard-ass, others said he was brutal, and a generous amount said he was a complete asshole. Yet you found yourself at the interview.

When you first strolled into Dean Smith’s office, you thought you were being Punk’d. All you saw was a smoking hot man sitting behind the desk. A sleek suit, soft spikes of sandy blonde hair, golden tan skin, freckles, and piercing green eyes. The guy was fucking gorgeous. You had the sudden urge to pull the man by the tie and let him fuck you into the next week.

You bit the bottom of your lip as Dean Smith began to stare at you critically.

“Ms. Colt?” You nodded and handed him your resume. He motioned for you to take a seat. He never dropped his gaze though. And with one swift motion, he tore your resume in half. You let out a small gasp.

“I don’t really like resumes. They have a lot of words that don’t really mean anything. I’ve had plenty of assistants with an excellent resume and turned out to be complete shit,” He gave you a cold, hard, calculating look. “So why should I hire you?”

So maybe the rumors were true about him. You felt somewhat nervous but the setting felt also… familiar? You couldn’t put your finger on it exactly but everything about being in the office with this man felt familiar and almost second nature.

You realized that the next few sentences would either make or break you. You knew exactly what to say.

“May I ask why your previous assistants aren’t working for you today?” You asked.

Dean Smith let out a snort and gave exasperated sigh. “Well, one never showed up on time, one wasn’t good with deadlines, a few tried to lay one on me or feel me up, another asked me what a memo was, and the last one couldn’t get my coffee order right.”

“Okay, well,” You locked eyes with him and squared your shoulders. “I just moved into town not too long ago, which didn’t really leave me room for a social life therefore I have nothing to do but arrive to work on time, I work 10 times better under deadlines, I’m a classy girl and don’t put out on the first date, a memo can be defined as a written communication or a reminder, and lastly I consider coffee the liquid of life, if someone messed up my coffee order, I would fire them too Mr. Smith.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and Dean Smith stared at you with an unreadable expression. Perhaps you might have fucked this one up.

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile and he laughed. “You’re hired.”

That was 2 months and a half ago and somehow you were still his assistant. And you found out for yourself, the rumors were all true.

“I expect you to be on time every single day. I highly recommend you be here before I even arrive. I like to have an itinerary of the day on paper for me before my day starts, I prefer well-written profiles of each client I come into contact with, I eat lunch everyday at 12, and every morning I drink a Venti Café Macchiato with skim milk, an extra shot of espresso with a whole grain muffin.” Mr. Smith rattled off.

You were thankful you remembered to grab your notebook.

“And most importantly, dress professionally. We only perform as good as we dress. And with that being said, you are responsible for some of my home duties as well. Picking and dropping stuff off at the cleaners, making sure my car gets cleaned bi-weekly, the usual.”

You almost wanted to high tail it at the mention of all the work and phone calls you would have to do daily. But you were never one to back down, for anything, or anyone.

“Mr. Smith.” You knocked on his office door lightly.

“Come in.” Mr. Smith had his Bluetooth in and was typing on his computer with speed. You held up a bag and lightly shook it.

“Lunch is served, oh mighty Overlord.” Mr. Smith didn’t bother to look up and continued typing. You began to unload the contents of the bag and place the items on his desk. “You lucked out today, they finally got shipment of that organic dressing crap you always rave about.” Mr. Smith finished typing and finally looked up.

“It’s not crap. It’s healthy. It’s suppose to cleanse your systems but provide nutrients at the same time.”

“Honestly Mr. Smith, this whole cleansing diet thing is just a little bit-“

“A little bit what?”  He asked pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear and placing it on his desk.

“Unnecessary.” You pulled a few napkins out of the bag. “I mean, you’re probably one of the most in shape 30 year-olds I’ve ever known,”

“Because of the cleanse,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“No, before the cleanse. You only started up this stupid cleanse about 3 weeks ago. You were in perfect shape then too.” You were busying yourself with taking the lids off everything, like it was second nature. “I mean when I first walked into your office for an interview, believe me when I say you were in shape, I-“ You paused for a moment and looked towards your boss. He had a slight smirk on his face. Your eyes widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Mr. Smith nodded. “Yes you did.” His face danced with amusement.

You started to babble. “I didn’t mean it like that- What I meant to say was- I promise I’m professional- I just was saying how you didn’t need that stupid cleanse- I don’t even know why that slipped out of my mouth- Just forget it. Forget every word I’ve said now. I’m leaving now.” You awkwardly crumbled the bag that the food came in and headed for the door. You could hear laughter coming from the office once you closed the door.

You let out a puff of air as you fell back into your office chair. Those outbursts have been more frequent as of late. And sometimes it would be the weirdest things.  

A few days ago, you found yourself typing the name “Dean Winchester” for your boss’ memo rather than “Smith”. You’ve never even met someone with that last name before.

Then just yesterday, when Mr. Smith dropped off a stack of paper work while you were mindlessly typing on your laptop, you gave him a small “Thanks babe.” Thankfully your boss didn’t seem to notice and said “Welcome.” before walking back to his office. It all seemed too natural. The realization of what you just said didn’t even hit until seconds later. You were horrified. But your boss never mentioned it.

You opened your lunch bag and began eating with a rock station softly playing in the background.

At 5:30 in the afternoon, you always leaves the office with Mr. Smith, prepping him for a meeting of some sort that he always schedules for 6:00. The two of you exit the glass double doors and enter the elevator.

“Don’t forget you’re meeting O’Dell at Fait Avec Amour instead of Swingers tonight, and don’t forget he’s a sucker for white wine,” You said while leafing through a manila folder.

Mr. Smith put down his phone and let out a groan. “White wine? Really?”

You looked up from your files and raised an eyebrow in concern. “Is there a problem?”

“The cleanse only allows room for water and the cleanse itself. Not white wine.” He said massaging his temple.

“Oh my. What it must feel like to be worrisome of drinking top shelf, white wine.”  You deadpanned. Your boss acted like a child at times.

“I don’t pay you for your smart ass remarks you know.” He began to busy himself on his phone again.

“I’m pretty sure payroll does that, Sir.”

Instead of the elevator opening up to the ground level, the door opened to the 12th floor. You looked up to see a guy in a bright yellow shirt, which signaled he was from IT, towering over both you and Mr. Smith. And it was pretty damn hard to tower over Mr. Smith.

His height wasn’t what threw you off though. It was the way he was staring. He was staring at the two of you like he recognized a celebrity or seen a ghost of some sort.

Usually when people realized you were Dean Smith and the assistant, you got the celebrity reaction, but this guy’s stare was different. It was haunting, and knowing.

You quickly dropped your eye contact back to your papers and shifted a little on your feet. Your boss seemed to not notice a thing.

“Do I know you two from somewhere?” A voice filled the elevator. It was the IT guy. Mr. Smith looked up from his phone and you looked up from your papers.

Mr. Smith simply raised an eyebrow at the guy like he had two heads. But you actually stared back. No, you didn’t know him from anywhere. But something about him screamed familiar. Maybe you rode the elevator with him a few times or so. You were about to say just as much until your boss spoke instead.

“No, I don’t think so,” Mr. Smith answered, speaking for the both of you. Like he knew who all of your friends were in the office. You rolled your eyes.

The guy shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry man, the two of you just look really familiar.”

The elevator finally dinged and the doors opened at the base level. “Yeah well, save it for the health club, pal.” Mr. Smith said with a bit of snark before exiting the elevator.

You threw the guy an apologetic look before following your boss. You forgot that there was a reason why a lot of people didn’t favor Dean Smith. That part of him always seemed to go away when it was just the two of you. It wasn’t your place to call him out on his behavior though. He was still your boss after all.

“That guy was definitely trying to hit on you. How unprofessional. He’s lucky I don’t know his name or I would report his ass.” Mr. Smith pulled his earpiece out and turned towards you. He sounded genuinely pissed.

“Mr. Smith, I don’t think he was. He seemed actually curious…” Your sentence lingered. You were curious too. The whole exchange seemed a bit weird. “But thank you for defending my honor, Sir.” You giggled and for a quick second, you swore you saw your boss blush.

“Yeah, well- uh, I should get going.” He took the manila folder from your hands and hiked up his messenger bag. “Have to prepare myself for all the wine guzzling tonight,” You laughed at your boss’ face of distaste and he laughed along with you.

“Well don’t get too wasted Mr. Bossman, you’re always a bit more cranky after a night on the town.” You said quickly fixing his tie without a second thought. “I have to now see a woman about your dry cleaning.” You looked up to him with a smile. “See ya.” You waved and started walking the opposite direction of Mr. Smith.

You didn’t want your boss to get the last word in after that particular comment. You loved giving him shit about being a lightweight.

But you did really have to see a lady about dry cleaning. It was one of your many duties as Dean Smith’s assistant. And since it was a Tuesday, you had to make sure Mr. Smith’s car was washed. Then, after the cleaners, you had to color coordinate his outfit for the next day according to a chart you received from his stylist advisor.

You rolled your eyes at that. You wondered if the guy even owned a pair of jeans. If he did, you haven’t seen them yet. You always imagined what your boss would look like with jeans on and a simple Henley. You laughed at the thought.

A Dean Smith who isn’t dressed up isn’t a Dean Smith at all.

By the time you got home it was around 8 pm. That’s the time you always got home. You would cook yourself a quick dinner, take a steaming shower, and read a chapter or two of your book before falling asleep. And It was like that every single weekday.

You should have known something was wrong when you missed your alarm the next morning.

Part 2