#but then i got struck by some weird burst of motivation and i ended up drawing jere too haha

[franky-y]

So, in an attempt at calming myself down I ended up drawing these two pictures

and now I'm considering taking them with me to the concert tomorrow, but I'm not sure if I really should? I don't think I'll get the chance to give them to Jere and Häärijä and I don't know if they would even want to have them lmao

[hankwritten]

Quodlibet

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for ImSorry, College

“How do you even know this guy anyway?” Jeremy asked, leaning over Jane’s back in such a intrusive distillation of his character that this particular instant could have come from any singular moment throughout the semester, right down to the mortal threat to Jane’s class project.

“Watch it, Buster! You are dangerously close to causing the greatest second dolphin extinction event since the invention of the six-pack!”

Trying to dislodge his suitemate, Jane threw his shoulder, pushing Jeremy and his grasping arms backwards and away from the fragile, pseudo-aquatic diorama.

Jeremy slid down Jane’s spine. “Fine, jeez, I wasn’t going to squish your bath toys.” He went boneless just long enough to reach the floor, then promptly popped to his feet and began looking at the aquarium from the other side. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don't know what you mean by ‘this guy’,” Jane grumbled. “This is clearly a diorama. Not a guy.”

“The guy, man,” Scout nagged, and Jane could already feel the migraine coming on. Jeremy was actually the human embodiment of head pains, to the point where sometimes Jane wondered if he had escaped from a lab that had been trying to bio-engineer the most aggravating person in existence. “This guy that’s making you go wackadoo and put like ten times more effort into a freaking GED project than anyone ever should.”

“This has nothing to do with him.” Jane put an aggressive amount of glue on his last dolphin.

“Right, sure,” Jeremy snickered. “But as soon as I said ‘guy you have a weird rivalry with’ you immediately jumped to him.” When Jane grit his teeth, Jeremy laughed again. “So what is it with you two? You didn’t get the urge to start tearing each other’s intellectual dicks off just because of some Economics of Marine Biology class, right?”

“Applied Oceanography,” Jane corrected, pointedly not looking up.

“C’mon pally, you know what I meant-”

“Hrrn nn brrdaa”

The voice of their third and final suitemate spoke up from a nearby beanbag chair, where its owner was trying to ignite a textbook with a lighter.

Jeremy looked to them, then to Jane. “Really? He plays for the Brawlers too?”

“Yes,” Jane snarled. “Mystery solved. The new power guard is in my oceanography class, and now you will shut your trap, shortstop, so that I can proceed to kick his ass in diorama making and prove that I am the superior guard.”

“That ain’t exactly a perfect chain of events, but you do you pally.” Jeremy pulled to the far end of the couch, drawing his legs into a fold. “Ain’t like, you supposed to develop deep-seated rivalries with players from other schools? Not your own?”

“If you met him, you would understand.” Jane placed some cherry bombs at the bottom of the glass tank. “Plus, he-...” Swallowing his fury, he said, “he got me moved to small guard.”

“To- what?”

“Hurmm umma,” their third put in helpfully.

Jeremy absorbed this for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, oh man. There’s literally a position called small guard? That’s- that’s fucking hilarious you gotta admit.”

“I have to admit no such thing!” Jane rounded on him, diverting his attention from his precious project for the first time in over three hours. “I used to be power guard! Then some one-eyed, Scottish, lay-about, freshman comes in and thinks he can take my spot? This is betrayal of the highest order! A perversion of our constitution!”

“Mrra hudda.”

“I do not care if small guard is ‘technically a step up’,” Jane huffed. “Power guard is further to the front. That makes it better.”

“Basketball’s for chumps anyway,” Jeremy said, apparently having derived all the entertainment he’d wanted from the conversation, laying until he could reach his arms behind his head and dropping his legs in Jane’s lap. “You should try out for a real sport. But hey! Hope your little fish tank fills your inadequacy or whatever.”

“Oh it will.” Jane lowered his face to the glass, breath fogging and obscuring the magnum opus within. “It will.”

#

“And here you will see what happens when America finally colonizes the ocean!” Jane said to the drooling, glassy eyes of an 8am class.

They were significantly less slumberous when he threw a final cherry bomb into his demonstration, causing a chain reaction as dozens of ‘fireworks’ went off under the ocean, celebrating America’s eventual conquest. To really send the message home, he pulled the ripcord in the back, dropping a miniature stars and stripes behind the tank.

“Oorah!” he concluded.

“...Thank you Mister Doe,” the professor said. “Your time allotted for presenting is up.”

He turned and gave her a big thumbs up.

While some staff at Teufort U insisted you call them by their first names, this professor was not one of them, and it was rumored that the TA who had once dared to call her ‘Helen’ in front of her students was never seen again. However, no one could be that much of a hardass all the time; Jane was confident his project had just blown her out of the water (pun intended.)

She eyed his thumbs up with her perpetually sour face. “...That means return to your seat, Mister Doe.”

Jane picked up his aquarium and strolled jauntily back to his desk.

His good mood dissipated as soon as Tavish was announced as the next presenter. The usurper pulled his aquarium in on a cart, a sheet draped over to allow for a dramatic reveal. Dammit. Jane should have thought about dramatic reveals.

Tavish grinned at his audience, whisking away the blanket with a flourish.

“Behold!” he declared. “You’ve heard of desalination to deal with the oncoming global water shortages, but my proposal is this: a complete and total refinement. Salt water? Pah! Whiskey oceans are where it’s at.”

The tanked sloshed, full of something clearly scrumpy or scrumpy adjacent. Within the alcohol floated an awfully realistic looking octopus, expertly crafted and swishing with the tank’s movements. An eyepatch covered its left side.

“With the addition of boozed-based life forms of course, for an entirely new ecosystem.”

Jane curled his lip. Damn. He was good.

“...Mister DeGroot,” the professor said, “might I remind you that this is an alcohol free campus, regardless of any student’s legal status to drink? And, even without that, you are not currently twenty-one years of age?”

“Drinking age is sixteen in Scotland, Ma’am.”

“Sit, DeGroot.”

Tavish sat. He shot Jane a smug grin. Jane scowled.

“That concludes our presentations for today.” If the professor’s voice got any more disappointed, she could have been a ringer for a Badlands Brawlers fan. “As you know, the diorama that scores the highest marks will receive extra credit toward our upcoming final exam. I use the remainder of the class time to grade, and announce the winner shortly. Please return on the bell if you wish to receive those extra credits.”

The ‘bell’, unlike those rinky dinky little red bowl things they had in high school, was actually a proper bell tower, situated over the science building and able to be heard anywhere on campus. This was where Jane retreated to wait out his nerves, pacing around the semi-enclosed area and mulling over his chances. Fine, Tavish’s had been good. He was used to Tavish being good, the bastard, but Jane’s was better, and this time he was going to mop the floor with him.

“I am going to mop the floor with you!” he declared to the heavens.

“Not with that sad display you won’t.”

Jane jumped. A quiet moment of solitude foiled, besieged by his mortal enemy who’d somehow snuck up on him in order to lean cockily against the door to the stairs.

“My display was anything but sad.” Jane shook his fist. “It was joyous! Victorious! Other words that mean not sad!” When Tavish continued to smirk at him, he added, “plus, your idea is bad anyway.”

“Aye?” Tavish challenged. “How so?”

Dammit. Jane hadn’t thought this far. Replacing the oceans with whiskey really did seem foolproof...except…

“If there is no more water, then you can’t make other type of booze either!” he declared triumphantly.

Tavish jaw clenched. Ha! Good. Let him get angry for once.

He walked over and got right in Jane’s face. “Well what about you? How are you going to light off the fireworks underwater?”

“Oil, salt, and various temperature and pressure difference!” Jane didn’t like the other man in his space, and gave him a shove. They were always doing that to each other during practice, blocking and shoulder-checking harder than necessary, doing things that would certainly be penalties in an actual game.

“Who cares?” Tavish shoved him back. “No one’s going to see them anyway.”

Jane grabbed him by the front of the shirt and shouted, “the dolphins will! You would know that if YOU HAD BEEN PAYING ATTENTION.”

One, dangling, aggravating second stretched on, catching friction as they pressed noses and breathed heavy with the effort. Then they reacted simultaneously, lunging forward and attacking each other in mouth to mouth combat.

Jane growled furiously, trying to gain the upper hand, but Tavish was just as motivated not to let him get it. The pair of them sucked at each other’s faces, mastication muscles competing for this year’s WWE championship belt, crashing against the nearest half-wall surrounding the roof. A more wary observer might have worried about them careening over the edge, but Tavish and Jane had more pressing things on their minds. (And ‘more pressing’ was exactly how they were going to resolve it.) Just a whole mismatched ball of absolute frustration as they worked out several months of pent-up attraction.

Their combined rage might have carried them to hell and back, had the bell not struck 9am at that exact moment.

They both screamed, trying desperately to cover their ears as they hundred and fifty year old bell GONGED above them, rattling teeth inside skulls and causing tears to spring to their eyes.

“God! Why don’t they have a warning sign up? Bloody hell!” Tavish moaned, having found his way to the floor and using his beanie to futilely cover his head.

“What???” Jane, who already didn’t have a good ear at the best of times, worried briefly that he’d finally gone deaf.

“What?” Tavish asked. “I can’t hear a thing you’re saying.”

“What?”

This went on for several minutes, the two men lying on the floor of the bell tower.

When they finally staggered down to class, it was in a terribly haggard state, and new bruises around their mouths.

“Hello professor,” Tavish, the least winded of them, declared. “It’s alright, you can tell us which one was the winner now. We’ve worked out our differences, and determined to let the best man win.”

“The best man will be me, but yeah what he said!” Jane put in.

“If you’re going for flashy, maybe, but on sheer sustainability-”

“No one’s going to eat alcohol-based sushi, cyclops-”

“Enough,” the professor cut in. “Neither of you won the extra credit points.”

“What?” Tavish gaped. “But ours were the best out of anyone’s! How could we possibly lose?”

“The assignment,” she said in a clipped voice that spoke of years of dealing with the exact idiots that Teufort tended to attract, “was to create a physical display of algae chemical reactions at different levels of light and pressure as found in the oceanic zones. Not only did you not win, you have failed this project. Now, since I have a lecture in Hale Hall in fifteen minutes, I suggest you both move out of my way, otherwise you will not have the chance to recuperate those points on the final exam. Goodbye gentleman.”

She stripped the last of the grading notes off her desk, shoved them into a manila folder, and disappeared out the door.

Tavish and Jane watched her go. The minutes ticked by on the wall mounted analog clock, which probably could have told them the time just as well as the giant bell that had nearly deafened them.

“Hey,” Tavish said, elbowing Jane in the side. “I got to take Basic Intergluteal Numismatics next semester.”

“...Yeah? And?”

“Bet I can solve systematic inflation before you can.”

“Oh, you’re on son.”

[tf2-parqcxsm]

Scout x Reader: For Too Long

You repeatedly tapped your pen on the table, biting your lower lip as you thought about what to put on the paper that was laid out right in front of you. "Alright, well, Pyro had some strange stuff in his closet, but I guess I'll consider it." You uttered, and proceeded to mark the box next to Pyro's name. You were one of the Administrator's assistants, and your job was to check the mercenaries' rooms to see if they have any suspicious equipment. You have to admit, it was boring, but you can't complain either. You did develop some interesting relationships with the team, anyway.

Placing your pen down, you stretched out your arms and laid back further on your chair, relieved that you finally finished what you have to do for today. Your body felt numb, all because you walked through the bases, which are also extremely huge and are separated in a far distance. A long sigh escaped your lips, "Finally. I can rest." You were supposed to close your eyes, until a loud knock interrupted your relaxed moment.

The noise immediately caused you to stand up from your chair and walk towards the door. There wasn't anyone else in the office — except for Miss Pauling and the Administrator — to suddenly come up on your door, so you had no choice but to quickly answer the door.

You fixed yourself before opening the door, and to no surprise, you were faced with your boss. "Ah! What can I help you with, ma'am?" You forced yourself to flash a small smile. Don't wanna look gloomy now, do we? The puff of smoke from the Administrator's cigarette somehow made its way to your nose, and you simply covered your face with your hand. "We need to talk, Miss (Y/n)." She spoke, while her gaze was away from yours. The solemnity in her voice made your stomach swirl. You knew you wouldn't like what she was going to say next, you didn't know what triggered her but all you know is that it was probably something you did. You gritted your teeth and furrowed your eyebrows, "U-Uh— Sure. Would you like to come in or—?"

"We can talk here."

"Ri- Right…"

You closed the door behind you and stood up straight, waiting for the Administrator to speak up once again. "Miss (Y/n), how long have you been here?" She raised a question that filled your head with confusion. She knows the answer, and yet she asks you this question. However, you still answered, not wanting to irritate the woman in front of you. "Um, I've been here for three years, ma'am." You responded formally. Clenching your fists, your arms stayed at your sides. The Administrator walked towards the window, which was at the opposite side of your room, and spoke whilst her back was onto you.

"In those three years, what have you done?" She questioned again. Your eyes followed her figure, but you stayed at where you were. "Well, I go around the bases on a daily basis to see if the mercenaries are keeping anything in secret." You could have sworn to yourself that you saw her turn head on a slight angle. You could feel her intense gaze, even when she isn't looking directly at you.

"What else?"

You thought for a few seconds, bringing up your hand to your chin, "Oh! I often substitute Miss Pauling whenever she's busy with…other business." You explained, the last part of your statement sounding rather unsure. Maybe tuning your voice like that was a bad idea, as the Administrator fully turned around to you with a displeased expression on her face. "And that's it? You've done nothing else?" She creepily walked towards you as she spoke, causing you to take a step backward. Anxiety crawled up to your veins as you caught a glimpse of her eyes. "I, uh— Yes, ma'am." You stammered between your sentences, in fear that she might slap you out of nowhere.

But she didn't. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at you. She backed up and dropped her cigarette on the ground, stepping on it to get rid of the smoke. "Miss (Y/n), did you forget that we have cameras all over this place?" She questioned you again. "Huh?" You blabbered, genuinely confused by her sudden questioning. You didn't know how to respond, you simply stood there with a puzzled look on your face. She hummed at your stance, the corner of her lips perking up. "We know everything. We watch everything."

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. You felt like you were being choked by some kind of invisible force. "Well, maybe except for your room. That would be an invasion of privacy." The Administrator interrupted your running thoughts as she walked past towards you, making you tense up your shoulders. She stopped right behind you while you were contemplating the situation.

"So, from this day onward, you will be forbidden to visit the bases."

Did you just hear that correctly? You immediately turned your head towards her, waving your hands everywhere as you couldn't understand her motivation behind this. "But- I don't- May I ask why?" You were extremely in shock that you couldn't get your sentences right. The world felt like it was breaking down to pieces, the gray color replacing the rainbows that once scattered around your vision. "Why?" She repeated your question and turned around, looking directly at you with such seriousness. "Because you've been distracting the mercenaries!" She yelled, finally breaking her formal gestures and speaking. "Especially your little sly boyfriend." You gasped at what she said.

"Bo- Boyfriend?"

Oh.

Scout.

Realization struck through you. "Wha- Ma'am, it isn't what you think!" You tried to make up an excuse. It was true that you have some feelings for the youngest mercenary in the team, but having the Administrator find out what you've been doing just for him for the past few years will get you real trouble. You couldn't bear the thought. "No, no more excuses. I've had enough." She breathed in and out, calming her senses. "That's all. You can get back to work." She simply stated, walking away and leaving you utterly broken.

But she stopped in her tracks, saying one last thing before she leaves the scene, "Oh, and,"

"Miss Pauling will exchange jobs with you."

She walked away sassily. All sorts of emotions burst through you, causing you to immensely tremble. You knew Scout had a huge crush on Miss Pauling before, what if it comes back now? You'll lose your chance. Oh god, you can't even accept the fact that this whole thing is happening. You won't even be able to see the other mercenaries! They were like your best friends.

You felt a tear drop from your cheek. You quickly wiped it away to avoid anyone from seeing your weakness. Afterwards, you quickly returned to your room, letting out all your tears as you weep on your bed.

Little did you know that Miss Pauling saw the whole thing happen. Watching from a corner.

The Next Day

"Oh, hey, Miss Pauling!" Scout greeted the purple-wearing lady as she entered the base. "Hi, Scout." She greeted back with a weak smile. The young man looked around the surroundings, as if he's looking for something — or someone — specific. He scratched his head, "That's kinda weird. Usually, it be (Y/n) who comes around by this time." Miss Pauling nervously laughed at his statement and gripped her clipboard tightly. "Ah, well— We're just switching jobs for a bit. She got a lot of work from the Administrator." She waved her hand in front of her neck, implying that she could get killed if she told him the actual reason.

Scout got the sign but interpreted it wrongly. He first raised a finger, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly agape. His eyebrows then raised and his eyes widened as soon as he realized what she was trying to say. "Ohh, right, right!" He finger gunned at her, and she merely nodded in response. They both agreed on something they didn't even get the message correctly. "Well, uh, why don't ya check my room first?" He pointed behind his back with his thumb. "Sure." Miss Pauling accepted his offer with a smile. Scout led the way to his room, skipping over the way as the black-haired lady trailed behind.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. Miss Pauling quickly checked around his room — it was unsurprisingly messy — and marked off Scout's name on the clipboard she has been holding. "Seems like you've got nothing suspicious hidden." She remarked, turning around just to see the young man scavenging through his closet. "Uh, Scout?" She called out for him. He didn't even bother to look up or hum at least, and it caused Miss Pauling to approach him to take a closer look at what he's doing.

"Aha! Found it!" He cheered as he raised his arms with a pen in hand. "It's a…pen." Miss Pauling spoke in an uninterested tone. Scout waved the pen, "Hell yea it is! I borrowed it from (Y/n), actually, and I was gunna give it back to her today, buuut only you came." He approached Miss Pauling with a pleading smile and lent the pen to her. "Maybe ya can give to back to her?"

Miss Pauling snickered at his gestures. "Sure. I'll stop by her room later." She took the pen from his hand, taking a quick scan of the item. It was a simple-looking pen with a cap, the ink almost drained out and the ends look like they've been scratched intensely. She couldn't understand how it happened but here she is, with your pen in hand. When she took her gaze away from the item, Scout was grinning widely like an idiot. He suddenly took her into a tight hug for a quick moment and put her down afterwards, nearly leaving her breathless. "Thanks, Miss Pauling! You da best!" Scout gave her a thumbs up as his wide grin stayed on his face, Miss Pauling did the same thing but with a more distressed expression.

Later that day, she actually stopped by your room to give back your pen. She knew you had a lot of spare pens to use, so she didn't see why she still had to give this to you, but she could see that you were lonely and wanted to check on you, at least. You quickly answered the door once she knocked, and you were actually surprised that the dorkiest person you've known for the entire time that you've worked here would actually give back something you never really thought of. You merely thanked your co-worker and went back to work, Miss Pauling got extremely concerned when she saw the depressed look on your face.

She had to do something.

Several Weeks Later

Another day, another chance to sulk in your room. You were getting bored with the current job you had, all you had to do was watch the battle immense and take down notes. Where's the fun in that? The only people you could talk to was Miss Pauling and the Administrator, and nothing interesting ever really comes up in your conversations. You already missed the enormous laughter and screaming voices of the 9 men you loved wholeheartedly. It gets you sad every time you think of them.

Meanwhile, Miss Pauling was once again in the base, checking everyone's room for any suspicious equipment. She decided to visit Scout last, as she didn't know how to confront him in case he asks where the hell you are.

But this day was different.

Scout was acting strangely. Too strangely. He was silent the entire time Miss Pauling searched throughout his room, with his arms crossed against his chest and leaned on one of his desks. She got worried and questioned what was bothering him, "Scout? Are you okay? You've been quiet."

His lips almost immediately turned into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowing. Miss Pauling sighed, the expression on his face making her feel uneasy. "Scout, are you—"

"Where the heck is (Y/n)?"

And boom. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew he would ask one day, but for some reason, she wasn't prepared for this moment. Nervously, she spoke, "Scout, I can't tell you that."

"And why not?!"

"Because we're being watched!"

Silence fell through the room. It wasn't normal for the lady to shout in conversations, and even Scout himself was shocked at the event. Miss Pauling rubbed the bridge of her nose and took a heavy sigh before looking up again, "Scout, look, I really want to clear your questions and all, but I just can't tell you. Alright?" The young man frowned at her response. He brought his gaze away from her and stared hard at the ground. It's been so long since the last time he saw (Y/n), he's getting mildly worried and wanted to ask Miss Pauling where she was, but all he got was refusal of an answer. Even the other men were getting worried about the lady whose bright smile would make up their day in an instant.

And Miss Pauling knows all of that. She wasn't dumb, she took notice of their actions and frequently received questions about her friend. A sigh once again escaped her lips, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her clipboard, and started writing.

Scout didn't notice as he was too focused on keeping his attention away from the lady. He doesn't like her anymore, was she trying to get him back when it's already too late? His thoughts were cut off when Miss Pauling suddenly took his hand and put something in it, "Don't tell anybody. And don't do anything stupid." She whispered quietly to him, she immediately backed away from him and left the room without saying a single word.

Scout blinked multiple times before setting his attention on whatever Miss Pauling just gave him. It was a piece of paper, and was almost crumpled. He carefully opened it with his bandage-wrapped hands, and what he read made his jaw drop and immediately regret those thoughts he had earlier.

He should have known.

Some Time Later

"BLU team, the intelligence has been captured! Retrieve it now!" The Administrator shouted into the microphone, alerting the team and causing everyone to move quickly. You stood there beside her, with a clipboard and pen in hand. Specifically, you were using the pen that Miss Pauling gave you, the one that Scout borrowed. You missed him and the others, and just wanted to at least bring one piece of memory that could cheer you up as you watched the battle through the screens.

You saw Scout run through Tuefort, a frown on your face. Even with him visible across the screen, you couldn't help but feel a little bit of sadness in your heart. He was the one, and you knew that, and the Administrator took it all away. You couldn't blame her either, though.

A knock on the door somehow echoed throughout the room. Both you and the Administrator turned your heads around to the sound, but you made it up for her, "I'll go get it."

She nodded and went back to announcing alerts for the teams, as you quickly jogged to the door and grabbed the doorknob, expecting to see Miss Pauling or, perhaps, Mister Hale. That guy is crazy but who else would disturb his assistants when there's a battle going on? You took a quick breath before completely opening the door and putting on a fake smile, "Hello, how can I—"

"Hey, (Y/n)!"

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropped, and you even nearly dropped the objects you were holding. "Whoa, okay there. Is just me, sweet buns." Scout spread his arms for reassurance, but you stood there completely shocked at what you were seeing.

"(Y/n), who's there?"

You turned around nervously at the sound of the Administrator's voice, thankfully she was still facing the screens, but still, you couldn't let her know that one of the mercenaries was in the office! You will get screwed! And worse, him! "Um, it's just, uh, Miss Pauling! She's asking some questions and I'll be helping her for a few minutes!" You spitted out a lie, if you had to be honest, you didn't know if it would work.

But it did. The Administrator trusted your words, even with that tone in your voice, and let you off easy. "Okay, make it quick."

"Yes, ma'am!" After responding to her simple command, you immediately closed the door and grabbed Scout's wrist, taking him somewhere else as you didn't want your upcoming disastrous conversation to be overheard by anyone. You ended up dragging him — he was wincing and begging you to slow down — in a storage space and that's where you bursted out. "Scout, what are you doing here?! Actually, how are you here?! Who's in the battlefield?!" Your hand gestures just showed how shocked you are at this moment. Scout waved his hand to shake off the pain and merely grinned at your questions, "It was Spy! Cool, ain't it?"

Was he flexing? He was flexing. You took a palm to your face and sighed, "Of course it was Spy."

"Hey, at least I got here!"

You looked at him with disappointment, your hands running over your hair and your face scrunching up. "No, Scout, you can't be here. You know that! Both you and I will get screwed if the Administrator finds out!" You were practically yelling at this point, you still couldn't believe the boy of your dreams somewhat managed to get here, how else were you supposed to react? Even Miss Pauling would be devastated at the sight of him being here. Scout noticed the emotions you were emitting and frowned, "Come on now, it's been far too long, (Y/n)." The change in his tone made you ease up a little bit. Your arms dropped at your sides as you listened to what he had to say.

"Actually, I just wanted to see ya— But, uh, the other dudes missed ya too!" He was shifting and blushing furiously, his ears were flushing red as his eyes were going everywhere except at you. You were speechless. You didn't know what to say. Did he really escape the battle just to see you? Would you even be able to believe that? What if it was a Spy who was trying to make you feel all sorts of emotions?

No, it can't be. Spy was too old for you. "Scout, I, I didn't— I wasn't expecting to—"

"To see me here? Yeah, me either."

Scout cut you off before you even got to finish what you were trying to say, he continued to ramble about his journey all the way here. One part included that he had to beg to Engineer for making a teleporter but he was rejected by the Texan. You heard everything he said, but you just couldn't speak up. He is right in front you, weren't you supposed to feel happy? Didn't you want to see him?

You didn't know what to feel and just cried off at the spot, bringing your hands to your face. The young man immediately stopped his gibberish talking as soon as he heard you sob, and he panicked, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, chill! Did I say something wrong or what?!" He tried to hold your arms for comfort, but he was afraid he would scare you. His eyebrows furrowed in worry as he saw your tears fall off your cheeks. "Dammit, Scout! I've missed you so much!" You wailed as your hands stayed on your face. Another sob escaped your lips. The heartbreaking sound ripping out Scout's sense of hearing and tearing his heart apart. He couldn't bare to see you like this.

He sighed, "I- I missed you too, (Y/n)." He shyly spoke, averting his gaze away from you even though you had your eyes covered. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "No, to be honest? I really wanted to see you. Shit, maybe I did this because I love you."

"Huh?" You put away your hands and looked at Scout in confusion. You still had tears falling off from your face, but you came to your senses. His face was so red to the point he looked like a tomato, "Eh, well, I mean— I loved you! I mean, I love you right now, but like— I just— Ugh, whatever." His sentences came in stutters as he was too embarrassed by what he just said, he had his head lowered in defeat. But you didn't care. You thought it was cute, actually. For once, a genuine happy smile crept to your face. You embraced him into a tight hug and cried into his chest, this time they were tears of joy.

Scout was shocked at your action and didn't move an inch. He was hesitant if he should hug you back, but sooner or later, you felt his arms around you. It made you feel safe and happy, and you didn't want to let go.

"I love you too, Scout."

Extra Scene

The sun shone through the windows of the base, setting off shadows of various shapes and adding a warm glow to the large area. Scout walked through the hallways to the dining area with a cheeky grin on his face. The other mercenaries noticed this as he sat down, starting to munch down on his food without saying a word.

Sniper raised an eyebrow at his change of mood, "Ya seem lively today, mate."

"Yeah, yesterday was awesome!"

Spy remembered what he had to do with him and groaned in frustration. Soldier slammed his hands on the table, causing the utensils to shake vigorously due to his force, and pointed a finger aggressively at the young man. "Did you get a girlfriend or what?!"

"I did!"

Their eyes widened at his answer. "I…I was not expecting that kind of answer!" Soldier announced as he sat back down. Scout grinned cockily at them, amused about the fact that they couldn't believe a word he said. "You guys don't believe me? Her name is—"

"Hey, guys?"

They all turned their heads to the door, and there you were. "(Y/n)!" Scout stood up from his seat and ran towards you, bringing you to a hug.

"IT'S (Y/N)?!" The other mercenaries shouted in disbelief. You looked at them in confusion, but soon realized what they were saying. Bringing your gaze to your newly found love, you gasped, "Scout, you told them?!"

He grinned at you, "How can I not? I want to flex to them my beautiful girl." He poked your nose, making you giggle. The 8 men watched you two lovebirds, a frown on their faces except for Pyro who was clapping happily for the new couple.

It was kind of embarrassing to know that the Administrator did find out about you two, though.

[crowleyellestair]

Oh please post the other things you wrote for the accidental hit, I’d hate for you to go through all that work just to not post them

AN// Well, Im glad you liked the first one : ) Here’s a couple others!

 Prompt: What would happen if Geralt accidentally happened to hit the reader

1.

When the first touch came, Geralt hadn’t reacted. He thought it best to act completely docile. He might have lost most of his senses to whatever potions he had been forced to take, but he still had his wits about him.

The witcher knew he was in a cell, as the first time ‘round they had only taken his sense of smell. It seemed he was to be on display. Before his captors noticed, he saw how lush the small area he was confined to was. He could also hear others prattling around in rooms next to him. The face paced heartbeats of other humanoid beings, but most likely creatures of different elk. The people who had taken him must have been used to the effects, as the lithe woman who frequented his bars knew right away upon looking into his eyes that he was fully functional. The next to go was his hearing. It was a shame it wasn’t taste, as the slop they fed him was rejuvenating, but was the worst thing to ever grace his tongue. It had been about a week, he guessed since he was captured. A day or two since the only thing he could do was feel his surroundings.

The surprise he felt when hands gently touched him covered only an inkling of anger. It wasn’t borne out of self-pity of a witcher being caught, nor was it because they’ve tried to reduce him to nothing. No. It was because he was taken on the way back to camp. It had been a ten-day contract keeping him from Y/n. Wonderful, gorgeous Y/n, who always waited patiently for his return. Foolishly, his love blinded him, and he started to promise her he would return. Now, he’d be eating sludge for the rest of his days, while also breaking a promise to the most important person in his life. A century of dull skies with the only burst of light being her, and now he’s ruined it. If he had made it back, would she ever forgive him? Of course, that was only if she was okay to begin with. Geralt trusted her sense of survival, and he’d spent hours trying to teach her important skills, but he doesn’t trust the world around them. Y/n would be fine, but there are countless external factors that could harm her. She was in the woods with the bard for ten days as it was. It was already pushing the limits.

Geralt had decided at the beginning of this ordeal that he wouldn’t live through this for himself. He would get free for her. Even if she was upset that he left her, she deserves a spoken apology. Jaskier had deserved one on the mountains, and he wasted so much time denying that fact. It was only recently that the man came back into his life, and even if Y/n didn’t remain, she shouldn’t live with anger she didn’t need.

His suspicions of being on display went through the window when the slightly calloused hands touched him, but it hadn’t mattered. Act docile, and wait till he can feel something important. What is important? He doesn’t know yet, but he has something to fight for. He’ll get out. He tried his damndest to not flinch when those hands cupped his cheeks, and turned him- inspected him. Geralt remembered seating himself on the far end of the bed, which means who ever was there with him must be in the actual cell. He felt the breath of whomever it was push against his skin, alluding to someone out of breath, or emotionally rampant. Prickles of hair ends could be felt on his arm as the person tried in vain to throw in over their shoulders. Once he felt another pair of hands, with callused finger tips, he struck.

The heel of his palm went against the nose of the first person, and they fell out from under his arm. The second scribbled his hands against his chest and back, trying to find their grip. Geralt was confused with how unorganized this whole operation was. How did they get him there in the first place with this? If these weren’t the same people, how could the leaders let such unprotected weaklings get close? Unless, of course, he was meant to hurt them. The thought slowed him down, but he was still on the defensive. The hands on his chest and back stopped as he did, only slightly pushing him against the bed. As if suggesting he should calm down. The long fingers reminded him of his old friend, but that only set him more on edge. Geralt felt a bottle touch his lower lip, and he started to move, until stunned into one spot. A familiar flick against his nose shocked him, and a hand from before grabbed his. The size of the hand was the same as Y/n’s, the calluses becoming familiar. The small, squarish vial was one of his, and it narrowed the options. Joy soared through him as one of the options from his chest was White Honey. If anyone knew what to give Geralt immediately, it would be Y/n. He remembered the first time he crawled back to her half-conscious, unable to instruct her. He heard her frantic voice think out loud, and it echoed through him now.

‘White Honey first to flush, then Swallow to save.’

He brought the bottle to his lips and downed it as quick as possible. He handed the vial back as ringing started to throb through his skull. Y/n’s hand brought his back to hers, which now held swallow, but didn’t give it to him directly. Her wit was something he admired about her, and this was making his heart soar with pride. Instead of forcing him to take it, she was waiting. She would have no idea when the toxins would be flushed enough for him to take the new potion. Take it too fast, and the Honey would flush that too.

Pain rippled through him, everything invading his senses at once, but both Y/n and what he assumes is Jaskier hold him. The first thing he wished to see was Y/n, safe, yet her nose looked crooked and blood poured past her chin. A bright smile spread, red teeth flashing past her lips once she saw recognition in his eyes. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and he hugged back, seeing the smiling visage of his bard. The lute player’s hand lightly cupped the back of the witchers head before walking out of the bars, looking around. Geralt pushed her away slightly to take in her apparent broken nose, the realization setting in once he remembered his escape movements. He was the one to break her nose.

His fear must have been apparent as her smile dropped, and her hands cupped his cheeks once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. I thought you were out of it. I should have checked further.”

“I should have recognized your hands.”

“Darling, you had no senses other than touch. I’m sure it would be difficult. Plus, you had no idea we were coming.” Geralt noticed his potions carry-bag slung over her shoulder. He reached in, grabbing the bandages, slowly dabbing around her nose. Y/n chuckled lightly before stopping his hand. “You’re kind, but we need to get out first.” The witcher scolded himself, as he was so focused at what was in front of him, that he didn’t evaluate if they were safe or not, and the likelihood is not. He didn’t know what he was- could do to make up for it, but he’d do anything for Y/n once they got far from wherever they were.

 2.

It was the third winter at Kaer Morhen, and Y/n was used to the routine. It was Friday, which meant that Geralt would stay late with his brothers drinking, and she would stay in their room. There had been too many instances of Lambert being upset by her intrusion on ‘guys night’, so she happily lounged in the large bed.

Tonight, however, had been very cold. Geralt was blessed with the best room out of the three younger witchers, though it was a weird layout. The hearth and chimney were on the same wall as the door, which happened to be the shortest walls of the abnormal, pentagonal room. One wall was a large door to a balcony, though usually the doors somehow kept the cold away. It seemed that this night might be a different story, though. What motivated her to curl up between the door and the fireplace was the need for warmth and a clear, relaxed mind. If she would have thought over the possible outcomes of sitting behind the door, she would have thought of something else. However, after some mindless sitting, she found that this was the warmest spot.

Y/n hadn’t a clue how much time had passed, or when she fell asleep, but she did know that the immense pain in her nose is what woke her. Her eyes snapped open to find a worried Geralt leaning over her, eyes full of fear, but a shaky, grin-less laugh. She could tell the effects of Lambert’s White Gull brew was still making him tipsy, so she doesn’t fault him for the laughing.

His hands went up to her cheeks, but his thumb pressed to hard near her nose, and her quiet, painful squeak made him recoil faster than she had ever seen. When she gritted out that it was okay, he practically fell on her in a bear hug, giving out broken apologies. Her own hand flew to her nose, and when she couldn’t see any blood, she knew she was fine. It took a while to convince him she was fine, and to get them both in bed. Once they were situated, Geralt continued to drunkenly nuzzle her neck and wrap himself like a vice around her. Despite her foolish mistake and his drunkenness, the hugs were nice. It was just a hint of what would happen tomorrow night when she would force him to cuddle sober and pain free.

 3.

Jaskier’s laugh echoed through the small clearing in the forest where they had set their camp up the night prior.

“I leave for one bath and you two finally sort thins out without an audience. That’s disappointing.” His amused tone made Y/n roll her eyes from her spot on her bed roll. An annoyed grunt could be heard from Geralt, who was frantically searching through his saddle bag. When he found the cold waterskin, he walked to Y/n, gently handing it to her. He plopped down next to her as she brought it to her swollen bottom lip, and watched as she winced. When a scandalized gasp left the bard, Geralt shook his head, but kept his focus on the woman before him.

“Shut it, bard. It’s not what it looks like.” Jaskier’s hands flew to his hips, towel still laying over his head as he was previously rubbing it dry.

“What it looks like, Geralt, is that you are a brute in bed. Be gentle, my friend, gentle. You’ll get much farther next time if you remember that simple thing.” Cornflower blue eyes darted to their female companion as she huffed.

“Geralt was having a nightmare, and I tried to wake him up gently. He got up fast, I was too close, and his head collided with my lip. It hit my teeth, that is why it’s swollen.” The bard also plopped onto his bedroll, looking at the embarrassed witcher. His gaze darted back to her as his brow raised.

“I told you that you need to use a stick-.”

“He’s not an actual wolf, Jaskier. It was an accident, it’s fine.” And it was, truly. Hell, the woman felt bad as he could see the internal war happening on the witcher’s face over his guilt. When both men said ‘no it’s not’ in unison, however, she huffed and fell back against her roll. She knew Jaskier was teasing the man, but he wasn’t helping Geralt steer clear of self-hatred, which would mess up the hard work she had put into it so far.

[dsoe-masteroftheheavenlyyard]

Chapter 2–Hunt for the Deadly Sins; Scene 5

master of the heavenly yard pages 38-47

After they got out of the forest, the two of them started to talk about what they had just witnessed.

“—That was disturbing.”

“Yeah. And there were so many things I didn’t get…For now let’s first talk about that man named Gammon. He said that he was given the ‘Blackbox’ from ‘god’…”

“Here in Evillious there are four people—or rather, ‘divine beings’, who are the subject of religious belief as ‘gods’. The sun god Sickle, the land god Held, and the twin gods Levia and Behemo. Maybe the ‘god’ that Gammon spoke of is one of them…Though we can rule out it being Levia at least.”

“I believe you. There are a lot of things about the other three that are inscrutable to me, but…I’d say the odds of it being them are slim.” As Allen spoke, he was struck by the fact that he was acquainted with all four of the gods.

When he really thought about it, that was pretty bizarre.

--That aside, in that case who gifted Gammon that ‘Blackbox’ and gave him the order to erase Riliane and the others?

There was a chance that Gammon was lying. Essentially that the ‘god’ he spoke of did not exist, and that all of it was entirely his own idea—

In that case, what could have been Gammon’s motive for taking such action?

“Was Gammon that kind of person when he was alive?” Allen asked Nemesis.

“He was, sort of…But there’s something off about him, too. My honest impression from that display we just witnessed was—‘Who’s he to talk, someone who ran away from his position as party head?’.”

“But the soldiers seemed to respect him.”

“I’ll admit that he has charisma. The Tasan Party was able to secure hegemony in Elphegort because of his merits, for sure. There’s no party member who isn’t aware of that. …Only, he hadn’t been that devout a person as far as I knew.”

“And the figures that Gammon pointed out as targets…Except for you, all of them are people who lived a very long time ago, that he’s never met before. Though, well, Duke Venomania is Gammon’s ancestor, and Kayo and Banica have a distant relation to him as well, so it’s not like there’s no connection whatsoever—”

“…He would have had some familiarity with Riliane too, wouldn’t he? If Gammon was in the theater up until his death, then Postman—a reincarnated Riliane—was also there.”

“Yeah, that’s right. That is true.”

The two of them hadn’t said it out loud, but there was another big commonality in the five targets.

--All of them were people who had contracted with a “Demon of Deadly Sin”.

But in the course of this thousand-year history, it wasn’t just those five who had contracted with demons. …So then why had he selected them as targets?

“Rather than just rambling on pondering it here, it might be faster if we ask Gammon—or rather, assuming his ‘god’ actually exists, them—directly,” Nemesis said, though Allen didn’t seem to be in agreement.

“That would be dangerous. You’re being targeted by him too.”

“…Let me confirm something here quick. I am alive, and everyone else—including Gammon and the soldiers and you…have all died and become souls, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So in other words, they have no physical body…Are they even still able to interact with me, given that I’m alive?”

“Do you remember the action you took before we left from where Gammon and others were?”

“Huh? Did I do something weird?”

“You tapped my shoulder. Even though I am a spirit with no physical body.”

“Ah…now that you mention it.”

Nemesis had done it without realizing, but now that she was thinking on it again, that had been strange.

“It’s the same as the trees in the forest. Even though your body is alive, you’re able to interact with souls, and vice versa.”

Nemesis lifted her head and glared at the moon above her.

Living people can touch “spirit data”? I wasn’t aware of such a system. …It seems that “Sickle” has been tinkering with the Third Period’s rules far more than expected.

Despite her bitterness, Nemesis strove to keep it from showing on her expression and turned back to Allen. “One more thing. All the targets aside from me are, of course, souls. How do they plan to kill people who are already dead?”

“—Gammon didn’t use the word ‘kill’, he said ‘erase’.”

“…So he must have some method for doing so.”

“Perhaps that ‘Blackbox’ itself is that. If what Gammon said was true, I think you might know more about that box than I do. …Does the ‘Blackbox’ have such an function?”

Nemesis thought for a moment after she was asked that question.

Assuming that it was the “Type S” that Seth made, then that feature would be—

--Shifting to a parallel world.

The Type S was originally created to prove a theory of Seth’s, him having been a physicist.

Only a limited number of people could use it. I was one of them. And I…became a subject of the Type S and was transferred to another time and space.

The parallel world that her soul—her spirit data had reached at the end was a place that greatly resembled the world that she lived in.

And there, I—met “another me”.

…Now wasn’t the time to be going over old memories.

Nemesis shook her head and settled her thoughts.

Then she said to Allen, “—Gammon’s ‘Blackbox’ may be able to transport a soul to an alternate dimension. So if he were to pull the trick of making it so that a transported soul was unable to come back…that could be said to have ‘erased’ them from this world.”

“Hmm…I wonder who made that box. I can’t imagine it was Gammon—”

“…It was probably Seth.”

“--!? Then is Seth the ‘god’ that Gammon spoke of--?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t imagine he’s pulling any sinister plots this late in the game. And Gumillia’s been keeping an eye on him. Maybe Gammon found something Seth made long ago and abandoned. …I think it would be fastest to ask Seth himself about it.”

“Would have been nice if he’d come with us instead of going off doing something else.”

“—When you arrived at where I was, you had Gumillia, Seth, and Michaela with you. Where did you meet with all of them?”

“I met Michaela in the forest. That was the first place I was when I landed down on the ground world. I asked that she come with me. She readily agreed when I told her that it was to help you.”

“And Gumillia and Seth?”

“With them…The ‘Master of the Hellish Yard’ just suddenly appeared from deep in the earth. Apparently they were chasing sinners who escaped from hell. I think maybe they’ve returned to doing that job right now.”

“In that case…I’ve got no idea where they might be.”

And there Allen seemed to think of something. “Ah, wait just a second. The sinners that Gumillia and Seth are looking for…are people who have contracted with a ‘Demon of Deadly Sin’.”

“--! Then if we go to the ‘Deadly Sin contractors’ that Gammon and the rest are searching for, there’s a chance we’ll reunite with Gumillia and Seth.”

“Right. Only, not all of Gammon’s targets are people that Gumillia is going after. Among those five, the only one who’s really fallen to hell…is Duke Venomania.”

“Huh?”

“You—Nemesis—are still alive, of course…And Banica Conchita didn’t actually die, strictly speaking. She assimilated the ‘Demon of Gluttony’ and became a new demon.”

“Ah, now that you mention it…”

Nemesis remembered that she had met Banica once in the parallel space that had been called the “court”.

Irina had called her the “Demon of Gluttony”…No, it wasn’t just then.

Nemesis had met Banica at a different place, too.

Back when she’d first headed to the theater, looking for Gammon…That woman in the red dress who had blocked her way in that forest graveyard—

Allen continued talking.

“So Banica has always been inside the wineglass. And Riliane…After she died, her spirit didn’t go to heaven or hell—it just continued to be reincarnated.”

“Reincarnation…Leaving aside the gods and their kin, that’s a very particular ability granted only to the ‘Twins of God’—I’m quite certain you and Riliane are different beings from them. Though you look similar.”

“Honestly, I don’t know the reason why Riliane reincarnated either.”

“Sickle didn’t tell you?”

“Yeah. But Sickle did call me ‘Irregular’. If that word applies to Riliane as well, then maybe there’s some relation there.”

“Or…maybe it’s connected to the circumstances of your birth.”

“…?”

“Well, let’s just leave it there. Now…What about Kayo Sudou?”

The moment that she voiced that name, Nemesis’ heart sank a little.

For she had the same full name as the woman that she had once called “mother”.

“Kayo-san…Well, how shall I put this…She has Gumillia’s favor.”

“Wha?”

“I guess because her appearance is the same as that of her old mentor. Gumillia apparently decided not to drop Kayo-san into hell, and instead keeps her around to make her clothes.”

“…Pfff. Ha ha ha…” Nemesis suddenly burst into laughter. “That’s so Gumillia. Come to think of it, she was wearing a pretty stylish outfit.”

“Yeah. Kayo-san made it for her.”

“Haha…That aside, looks like the place we should go next is where Duke Venomania is. You know where he’s been staying?”

“I do. He’s probably in Asmodean. But—” The next thing Allen uttered was a bit unexpected for Nemesis. “—Let’s still head to Lucifenia like we originally planned.”

Nemesis started to ask him why, but before she could she realized what he was feeling by looking at his expression.

…He’s worried about his sister.

Allen had come to take a much more mature attitude compared to how he’d been in life. That was only natural, considering close to five hundred years had passed since then.

What’s more, thanks to the “Blackbox” on the moon he had gained an ordinarily impossible amount of knowledge.

And yet, the fact remained that he was still a human being. Even if they became a spirit, no matter how much time passed, a concern for those closest to them was constant, and at times it could even drive a person mad.

--Just as it had with Nemesis herself.

“…Let me justify myself for a moment,” Allen cut in somewhat awkwardly, appearing to have guessed what Nemesis was thinking. “I’m not just saying that out of my own personal feelings. I said so earlier, but Riliane has been in the theater as Postman—Lilith. She may know something about Gammon and this ‘Blackbox’.”

“But in that case couldn’t we also go to Banica?”

Allen shook his head at her somewhat unkind question.

“Our original reasoning was that we had to go meet with Gumillia—or, more accurately, Seth that she’s wearing as a mask. The odds are slim that Gumillia is pursuing Riliane. …But if we go to Lucifenia, there may be other ‘Deadly Sin contractors’ there.”

“You mean—”

“People you know quite well yourself. Apparently Riliane is currently throwing a banquet in Lucifenia for all of the souls she used to know. A great deal of figures from other countries are going to the illusory palace.”

“—I get it. You mean Kyle Marlon.”

“Right. And Keel Freezis’ wife, Lady Mikina.”

The face of another ‘Deadly Sin contractor’ came to Nemesis’ mind.

Prim…But of course, she wouldn’t be going to a party hosted by Riliane.

The Lucifenian Revolution—there were many who had contracted with “Demons of Deadly Sin” before and after that chaos.

And there were figures among them that Gumillia would know, as well.

“That sounds like a pretty good start.”

“Yeah, and even you too—”

“—Right. It’s not like I don’t have anyone I’ve been wanting to see again. …Alright. Let’s go to Lucifenia. I imagine it’s closer than Asmodean.”

If they headed further south from here, Lucifenia would be right there.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[aaltjelng]

so the lovely @languagessi sent me an ask with the numbers for the ask game but i managed to accidentally delete the ask:)) well, i decided to try to answer anyway, hopefully i remembered the numbers right haha... so here are the answers!

12. Vocab or grammar?

It’s a tough question! I guess it kind of depends on the language... I am utterly in love with Korean grammar! It might sound strange but I just find studying it so fascinating and rewarding. It also feels really nice to finally be learning a language that shares some traits with Finnish (no articles, a lot of suffixes...) I find studying Korean grammar a lot nicer than for example French grammar (although I do like that too!), mostly because I struggle a lot with remembering the genders of nouns and that makes me frustrated, and articles and genders feel kind of unnecessary to me as a Finnish speaker whereas the nuances that can be expressed through Korean grammar are really interesting.

I don’t have such strong opinions on vocab. In the beginning I did find it hard to remember Korean vocab and I still struggle with that a bit, but it’s getting better and better all the time. I think I like learning vocab the most when studying Swedish! I don’t know why, but I guess it just feels like it sticks more easily. I do love some Korean, especially native Korean words with all my heart... And learning vocab can feel super rewarding: that feeling when you spot a word you just learned in a random text and realize you can actually understand what it is saying is really the best feeling.

23. How did you get into languages?

Honestly I have loved languages for as long as I can remember. When my brother started learning English at school at the age of 9 (I was 7), I secretly listened to him and our mom studying. I also stole his English books and secretly read them by myself and tried to study.

After that I did have some time that I was just studying at school, I was always good at it but not as enthusiastic as I am now. It clicked in 2017 when I was 13 years old and I just started studying Swedish on my own. We had it in school too, but I was frustrated with how slow we were going. Somehow I just thought about the idea of studying and speaking this language and languages in general and it just made me really excited and happy. It is really difficult to explain but languages really bring out this certain feeling in me and that feeling has stayed with me since that year.

24. Why are you studying your target language?

So I actually have four target languages right now: French, Swedish, Italian and Korean. English is also a foreign language for me but I am not really interested in improving my English level as of now. 

Out of these four languages, I am now actively trying to improve my Korean, while the other three are more or less on “maintenance mode”. I study those three at school as well so I am still using and studying them, just not with the same intensity as Korean.

Anyway, here’s a little bit about each of these languages and why I am studying them!

French: I started it at school at the age of 9. It was quite a clear decision for me back then, I was really interested in the language, I had been to France many times and the Dutch side of my family actually originates from France (like hundreds of years ago my ancestors fled persecution from France to the Netherlands). I really loved studying French and my interest has only grown over the years. I love speaking French, I love reading French, I love listening to French and writing in French, and I really want to get my French to an advanced level. I will probably work on my French more actively next year and really try to bring it to C1 level before my matriculation exam. Now my French is somewhere between B1 and B2.

Swedish: I started it at school when I was 12 years old. In Finland Swedish is an obligatory subject so I didn’t actually choose starting it haha but I have always loved Swedish so I was motivated from the start. My aunt lives in Stockholm and I have been there for about 20 times. My mom also loves Swedish and I think she has also been a factor in my love for Swedish. As I said earlier, Swedish is actually the language that inspired me to start actively self studying languages. I just felt so frustrated with the pace we were moving at at school and I just thought to myself: “I learned English more or less fluently mostly with my own effort. Why couldn’t I do that with Swedish too?”. English I had learned because of other factors, not really my enthusiasm about the language or language learning but more because I needed to understand English in order to understand fandom things and books and bands I loved. So I thoguht that, well, books were really the thing that brought my English to a new level, so I should probably do that with Swedish. And so I did that and studied hard and got my Swedish to an intermediate level. I studied actively for about 5 months, after that I’ve just been mostly relying on school. This spring & summer I am planning on taking the next step and bringing my Swedish to an advanced level before my matriculation exam.

Italian: I started studying Italian at school last year with my best friend. She is part Italian and I thought that because I love learning languages and I love her and there is a possibility take Italian, why not take Italian? I also love Italian history and art and Italian is a very significant language in classical music (I am studying to become a classical violinist/violist). So I have been taking Italian for a bit more than a year now and I am around an A2 level. Next year, before the matriculation exam, I’d love to get my Italian to a B2 level or at least a B1 level.

Korean: In the summer 2019 I stumbled across some videos and heard my first songs by BTS. One of them: Paldogangsan or so-called “Satoori rap”. I heard it and just instantly fell in love. It’s a song about Korean dialects, and the way the rap showcased the different sounds of the Korean language... It really inspired me. Well, other things happened in my life, I got depressed, my other psychiatric and neurological issues got worse and so on. Through that time I discovered some truly amazing and touching songs that had lyrics that really moved me to my core, some by BTS but most by Agust D, and I knew I had to learn that language, at least a little bit. At first I just learned hangul to make sure that the lyrics I was scribbling to my diary weren’t complete nonsense. During the following six months I didn’t actively study Korean, I just played with Duolingo here and there, listened to a few beginner TTMIK lessons, acquired some vocabulary I was hearing in songs... 

But in May 2020 something just struck me and I just got this sudden burst of inspiration. I realized that if I really wanted to learn this language, what better time to start than now? I guess I had been feeling kind of intimidated, because I knew that learning a language, any language and especially one like Korean would take a long time. But I still remember this one post that I saw on tumblr. It said something about how usually when we think about how long learning a language will take, we feel weirded out about thinking ourselves being that much older. But the thing is, we will get older anyway. Might as well be older and know this language that you deeply love. That idea has stayed with me since. Let’s take one estimate: getting fluent in Korean will take about 4 years. In 4 years I’ll be 21. So? In 4 years I’ll be 21 anyway, why not be a 21 year old who knows Korean. And I also realized that I am still so young. I have so much time to learn so many languages. Might as well use it.

So I have been actively studying by myself for about 6 months and would place myself somewhere around the A2 level. This October I made this challenge for myself: for 100 days, study as hard as you can. Learn as much as you can and do not give up. I really want to see how far I can come if I give this my all! I’m wishing on getting to a B1 level at the end of this challenge but we’ll see. WIth Korean, and I guess with any language, it’s quite easy to get discouraged by thinking how much you still don’t know, so it’s important to also realize how much you already know. I have come so far already during these past 6 months, and I am really proud of myself. That motivates me to keep going: I learned all that, so I can learn these other things too!

Okay hahaha sorry for my very very long post and making you listen to my ramblings in my incoherent English.  I just love languages so much and I could talk about them for forever!

Thank you if you read this far, I hope you have a wonderful day. <3

Aleijd

[therainroguefanfiction]

❉ 139 Dreams (Hoshi/Soonyoung Kwon) Essential

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,095 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Soonyoung ☁

World: Seventeen ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

Your birthday was just around the corner, but instead of feeling excited you were feeling worried. Your boyfriend, Soonyoung, was an absolute gem, there was no doubt about that. Talented, confident, hard-working and the sweetest little cinnamon roll you had ever met. He treated you like a goddess, showering you with love and affection when he was around, and spamming your phone with hearts, kisses and sweet words when he wasn’t.

Lately, though, he had been acting distant. You did ask him about it at first, but he just claimed that he was really busy and apologized for not being around as much. You hadn’t missed how nervous he sounded when he answered, though.

Now you’re a pretty reasonable person, understanding that being an idol was hard work and took up most of his time. It was something you had agreed to before you started up your relationship, but this situation just felt… different. You couldn’t put your finger on it and you briefly wondered if it was just your anxiety messing with your mind. Either way, you did your best to ignore it and hide that something was bothering you.

The last thing you wanted was to worry Soonyoung.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

Junhong sat against the wall in the corner of a small cafe, scrolling through his twitter. You returned to the table with the food, setting it down before reclaiming your seat across from him.

Since Junhong was good friends with both you and Soonyoung, you decided to open up to the younger male and explain what you’ve been feeling. At the very least, it would help to get it off your chest. He had been surprised when you told him, but eager to give you a hand in any way he could.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, softly, popping a french fry into his mouth.

“I don’t know anymore,” you sighed, resting your cheek in your palm. “I briefly wondered if he was cheating, but I know he would never do something like that.”

“And you feel guilty for even considering it.”

“Yeah,”

He hummed, looking at his phone again. A light bulb went off in his head when he read a particular comment on twitter. “I have a brilliant idea!”

“Should I be scared?” You joked, earning a pout from him. “Tell me this brilliant plan that may or may not get us thrown in jail.”

“Seventeen is doing a meet and greet not too far from here. Let’s go!”

“Tickets for those events are sold in advance. How are we supposed to get in?”

“I’m an idol, remember?” He paused, suddenly feeling the urge to facepalm. “You forgot I was an idol, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” you coughed, “Just for a second.”

Junhong laughed, “Let’s go and get us some autographs~”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t you think they are going to question why we suddenly showed up? Then what?”

“Hmm, I remember seeing a costume store down the street. We’ll stop by there!”

Unsure about the plan, you quickly threw away the trash and rushed after him. As you followed him through the store, you started to notice that something was off.

“Junhong?”

“Hmm?”

“This is a Halloween store…”

“Yes,”

“It’s July…”

“You’ve heard of Christmas in July, now get ready for Halloween in July!” He struck a pose, using his arms to show off the wall of wigs as if you were suddenly on a game show.

You groaned, suddenly feeling your confidence drop as you kneeled down. “This plan is so gonna fail. He’s going to see right through us and think I don’t trust him.”

“Or~ he could think we were bored and just having fun!”

“You’re right,” you took a deep breath and stood up. “I need to stop worrying so much and just enjoy myself!”

“Of course I’m right!”

Noticing a foam sword on the wall beside you, you grabbed it and brought it down onto his neck. He cried out, falling to the ground dramatically. You did your best to sound serious through your laughter. “Don’t get too cocky, boy.”

You both burst into laughter, making the store clerk look at you both like you were crazy.

You ended up spending longer than you should have in that store, both of you constantly getting distracted by various items. It honestly felt so nice to just goof around and have fun. Life was far too short not to stop and enjoy the little things.

Finally, the pair of you stepped out of the shop, confident and ready to tackle the world. Junhong was sporting a large afro complete with a neon pink bow and matching sunglasses. You were wearing Katy Perry’s wig from California Girls with matching heart-shaped sunglasses. Everyone stopped and stared at you as you walked down the street, the aura of pure confidence making the scene even funnier.

When you reached the venue, it was nearly empty as they were meeting with the last two fans. Your appearance earned everyone’s attention almost instantly, the members crowding around you.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Jeonghan questioned, unable to stop his smirk.

“We’re starting our own group,” You announced confidently. “Katy and the Fro!”

“Wait, why is your name first?” Junhong pouted.

“Because ‘Fro and the Katy’ sounds weird.”

“Good point,”

“Plus I’m cooler.”

“Oi!”

The group started laughing, clapping you on the back. Your smile faltered when you scanned the room. Where was Soonyoung? Junhong met your gaze and you shared a silent conversation. He nodded, grabbing the attention of the group by making up a fake setlist for your first album. You quietly slipped away and headed to the back of the venue.

Soonyoung was on the phone, his back facing you. “No, I wanted the blue ones… right… no, you can’t send them there! It’s essential that she doesn’t find out about this!… yes, that’s fine… I understand, thank you!” With a bright smile, he slid his phone into his back pocket and walked away.

You were suddenly overcome by a pain in your temple. Texting Junhong to let him know that you were going home, you pulled the wig off and left the venue.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

When you woke up the next day, you had to rush to the bathroom, emptying out the contents of your stomach. Your entire body was aching, head throbbing and stomach cramping painfully. Had you eaten something bad? Or was it just a bug?

You tried calling Soonyoung a couple times, but you just got a busy tone. Feeling exhausted, you crawled back into bed, curling into a ball under the fluffy comforter. It wasn’t long before you had fallen asleep.

It was almost four in the afternoon when you woke again. Your body was still achy and your stomach was still unhappy with you, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been that morning. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand but you weren’t fast enough to catch it before it stopped. Before you could retract your hand, it started to vibrate again.

The cold glass felt good against your burning skin. “Hello?”

“Yah! Where have you been?! Do you know how many times we’ve called you?” Jeonghan scolded before pausing. “You sound horrible. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sick,” You muttered.

“Honestly,” he took a breath. “We were all worried about you. We’ve been calling for hours!”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I was sleeping.”

“Soonyoung is on his way to your apartment. He was afraid that something had happened.”

“Oh…” You forced yourself to sit up. “I need to unlock the door…”

“No, no! You lay back down right now, Y/N!” Jeonghan ordered. “He has a key, remember? Just rest and he’ll be there soon.”

“Mmkay,” you mumbled, climbing back under the covers. He told you that he would speak to you later before hanging up the phone. Your eyes drooped, but you forced yourself to stay awake.

The front door opened and shut, rushed footsteps echoing throughout the silent apartment. The bedroom door flung open and Soonyoung ran into the room, yelling out your name. He was breathing heavy from running.

You peeked out from the covers, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Seeing him made you feel a bit better.

As much as he wanted to throw himself on top of you, Jeonghan had informed him that you were sick and he didn’t want to make you feel worse. Instead, he gently climbed in beside you, bringing you into his arms. The warmth of his body mingling with the scent of his cologne made you feel light-headed.

“My poor baby,” He murmured softly, running his hand across your back.

“Sorry for worrying you, Soonie.”

He quickly shook his head, smiling down at you. “Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing… I haven’t been paying much attention to you the past week.”

You snuggled closer to him. “It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

“Junhong told me that you’ve been worrying… what were you thinking?”

You hesitated, playing with the button on his sweater. “A lot of things. At first, I thought I was just imagining it. Then I thought that maybe you were cheating on me… maybe I had been too clingy and you wanted a break from me. Finally, I started to wonder if you had gotten hurt and were hiding it from me.”

Soonyoung couldn’t believe his ears. He gently pushed you away, shifting so that he was eye-level with you. His eyes were filled with love and his voice was soft. “Let me clear up all of your worries so that they never bother you again. I will never cheat on you or grow tired of you because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You give me the motivation to improve and become a better person. I want you to look at me and feel proud to say, ‘That’s my Soonyoung. My amazing, hard-working future husband’. And if I had gotten hurt, you would know because I’d be clinging to you like glue wanting you to take care of me.”

You giggled, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest. How could this man make you feel so high with just words alone? Your hand rested on his cheek. “How did I manage to get such an amazing man?”

He leaned in, rubbing his nose against your own. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you. Now, would you like to know the real reason that I was so busy?” You nodded. “I was planning a birthday party for you, and…”

“And?” You prompted, curiously.

Soonyoung shifted so that he could pull out a white piece of cloth from his pocket. A blue ribbon was wrapped tight around it. “Open it,”

You slowly sat up, not wanting to jolt your head in case the room decided to start spinning. Once you were steady, you tugged on the ribbon, letting the silk fall onto the comforter. The cloth fell open to reveal a beautiful ring. The stone reflected the light of the setting sun, casting a spectrum of color onto the wall. “It’s… incredible.”

His arms found your body again as he pulled himself closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I was planning on putting this into the lotus candle. You know, the one that blooms when you light it? It was supposed to be perfect, but life isn’t perfect and things rarely go as we plan them.” He gently plucked the ring from your hand, looking you dead in the eye with so much love and adoration that it stole your breath away. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you whispered, fighting back the tears of pure happiness. “Yes, one hundred times yes!”

With a smile that lit up the room, he slid the ring onto your finger before falling back onto the bed, pulling you down on top of him. You were his everything and he was yours. The love between the two of you was eternal and raw, and it was essential to the happiness that you both shared.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Soonyoung pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery before showing you a picture of the cutest white and orange kitten. “I adopted a kitten for you!”

“He’s adorable! But… my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out after I adopted him… We’ll just have to move to a new apartment!”

“Together?”

“Of course together!” He booped your nose with a smile. “How can I not live with my beautiful wife~?”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[morinokunikara]

“Can I get a photo?” with yuuki meeting akechi? Or hifumi? Any persona celebrity ig.

Anon i am so sorry this took so damn long and also sorry that what was going to be a little drabble turned into 2.5k words, i just got carried away 

there are spoilers here!!! 

“Can I get a photo?”

That’s how it all started. A chance meeting with a fan at the train station. Typically - at least this early in the morning - it was a request Goro would reject and move on, but something about the boy standing in front of him that day made him impossible to decline. The hopeful look on his face was too good to say no to. If Goro was being honest, the guy was kind of cute. He was always kind of picky when it came to attraction, but this particular fan was certainly something. A little short, blue hair the perfect length for ruffling, grey eyes that seemed so gentle, kind, and full of wonder - no, not bad at all. He wondered about the bruises and bandages all over him though. What could have caused so many injuries...? “Alright, only since you asked so nicely,” he said with a charming smile. 

Yuuki felt his heart pick up a little just from seeing the other smile. He was a bit of an Akechi fanboy, admittedly. Who wouldn’t be? The way those brown locks just fall perfectly on his face... those enchanting brown eyes... so tall and confident... and his smile...! No, he was not about to go into fanboy mode. Not now. Save it for later when you’re looking at this picture again, and again, and again... Focus on right now! He moved so the two could pose together for a selfie. He smiled just slightly, trying hard to not look as excited as he was, but the spark in his eyes gave him away. He looked at the picture afterwards and...wow, he looked so boring in comparison. A handsome Prince Charming, and the lowly peasant just grasping at the chance to meet him. He started to feel a bit of his self-loathing kick in, but shoved it aside to smile at Akechi again. “Thank you so much!” He said, and then ran off before he could embarrass himself. 

Goro sighed a bit as he watched the stranger run off. “How strange,” He whispered. He’d never felt so happy to have someone ask for a photo. Usually he didn’t even have time, so he’d have to turn down the offer but this boy... He found himself thinking more about him. All he could gather for the time being was that he was a Shujin student, and that he looked pretty beat up. He worried a lot about the latter. Who or what could cause so many injuries to such a lovely face? And why did he care so damn much? Sure, he was a little cute, but in the end he was just another fan. Right?

Yuuki couldn’t focus on school that day. He got a picture from Akechi! He changed the wallpaper on his phone as soon as he had the chance, so he could always be reminded of that day. Sure, Akechi was a billion times more attractive than him. Sure, he looked like a boring stale potato chip next to Akechi. But it was a real actual picture with Detective Prince Goro Akechi. He wanted to be able to look at it every chance he got. 

Following that day, there were a few more chance encounters at that train station. Goro found the courage to approach his handsome fan each of these times, and learned a bit more about him. His name was Yuuki Mishima. He was a second year at Shujin. He was on the volleyball team. Wait, the one with the super famous gold medalist as a coach? Maybe he could catch a game sometime. They both liked Featherman, and showed off their keychain collections to each other. The more they met, the stranger the feelings inside Goro’s chest got. Before long, their chance encounters were less of chance encounters, and more of knowing the other will be at the station and waiting. It became an unspoken promise that they would meet and talk before school. But Goro started wanting more than just a few minutes before school. Would it be too much to ask for just...lunch together one weekend? Would that be weird? It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

Yuuki nearly burst right in the middle of the train station. Goro Akechi wanted to go to lunch with him. Akechi just asked him to hang out. The Detective Prince wants to spend time with a nobody like me. He was more excited than he had ever been all week. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. When it finally came, Yuuki spent hours beforehand looking at outfit after outfit after outfit trying to find the perfect look. He wanted to look good. He was going to be hanging out with Akechi, so he had to look his best. He had to look perfect. He found a nice blue sweater with gold stars on it, and his best pair of jeans. He picked his cutest binder as well, the one with the one with rainbow hearts. No one would see it, of course, but it somehow made him feel a bit more confident. Alright, he would do this. It’s just one short lunch. 

Goro arrived early. He put a bit more effort into his appearance today, though he wasn’t really sure why. It was just a meeting with a fan. A friend? Were he and Mishima friends? Even if they were, why did he want to look so nice for him? How long had he been waiting? Had Mishima changed his mind? Was he going to cancel? Why the hell was he overthinking things so hard? He got so lost in his mind, he almost didn’t notice when Mishima sat down across from him. Wow. He looked even cuter than before - wait what.

“Sorry I’m late!” Yuuki was a bit embarrassed that he got so caught up in his own appearance that he showed up a bit later than planned, but Akechi didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled that bright princely smile that made Yuuki’s heart flutter a bit. Wait, why did it flutter so much just from one small smile?

The lunch went well, almost too well in Goro’s mind. How could he be sure this guy didn’t have ulterior motives? He was almost too nice. Goro had spent so much time being used and manipulated by others, it was so hard for him to trust Mishima. But at the same time, he wanted to trust him. He wanted to believe that Mishima was different. He seemed so kind and genuine. His smile was so radiant, his voice was like the most soothing music... Why was Goro so caught up in this guy? He wanted to get to know him better; he wanted to know his dreams, his secrets, what made him smile. He wanted to make him smile. He wanted to be close. What is wrong with him? It was a risk, but maybe they could keep in touch? If it was leaked, he could always change numbers. He’d done that a few times already. 

Holy. Shit. Did Akechi just trade contact info with Yuuki?! Did Goro Akechi really want to keep in touch with some zero like him?! Was this real?! Yuuki tried to control himself. He couldn’t seem too eager. He had to play it cool, like the advice articles all said. He waited until after school Monday to text back, and then sent his text.

“Hey! Sorry it took me so long to send this, I was super busy.” Just like the articles said. 

Between school and work, Goro found himself unable to look at his phone until he got home. God he was so exhausted. He wanted to curl up in his blankets and sleep for a month at least. But checking his phone did bring a smile to his face. Mishima had texted him! That was all the energy he needed to get through his paperwork and homework. They could talk while he worked. It’d be a good idea to keep him awake and alive through all this boring stuff. 

“It’s fine. I had school and work all day. I’m free now, though! If you want to talk of course.” 

He texted back! Oh my god he texted back he texted me back Goro Akechi texted me back oh my god. Nope, can’t be too excited. Can’t let him think you’re just another dorky fanboy. Have to play it cool. Cool. Just stay cool, wait a few minutes to text back. Take it easy. You got this. 

The two texted well into the night, sharing jokes, pictures of cats, Featherman headcanons, anything that came to mind. They spent many more nights like that, met up many more times, became closer and closer. Everything was going so well. Rumors began to spread. Rumors about the plain-looking Shujin student that seemed to spend every weekend with Akechi. A friend? A lover? Someone shady? Both knew about the rumors. Both agreed that it would be best to ignore them, and keep doing their thing as best they could. 

The new Featherman movie was an absolute must for them to see together as soon as they possibly could. Watching it with a friend made the experience that much better for them both. Both wore bright smiles on their faces as they walked out. “That was so awesome! Way better than the last one.” Yuuki said before striking a pose to match one from the movie. “We have brought an end to your crimes, Dark Knight! Surrender immediately!” 

Goro laughed. Wow, Mishima was cute all excited like this. “They are pretty cool, aren’t they?” He sighed. “To be honest, I always kind of wanted to be like them.”

“Like the Feathermen? I’d say you’re already a lot like them!”

“How so?” Goro asked, tilting his head. He was admittedly curious as to how Mishima saw him. Why did that matter so much?

“Well, you’ve got a strong set of values you stick by, you put your life on the line to protect others, and if I’m being totally honest, you’re really cool.” Yuuki rubbed the back of his neck. That was kind of embarrassing to admit. “I’d venture to say you’re hero material, just like any Featherman!” 

The words struck Goro like a lightning bolt. Hero material? Mishima saw him as a hero? It made him feel like his heart might just fly away. He would love to hear that from anyone but for some reason, it meant even more coming from Mishima. What were these feelings? He managed a slightly blushy smile, one that completely downplayed how overjoyed he felt in the moment. “How sweet of you to say.” He could go on to say how wonderful it felt, how it made him want to just grab Mishima right there and- Wait what? 

Oh my god that smile I want to capture it forever and keep it close he’s so pretty! Yuuki smiled back, a mere fraction of the smile that was in his heart. “Well, I’m not just saying it to be sweet. I really mean it.” He looked at his phone and sighed. It was a Sunday, but he had obligations at home. Damn his past self for agreeing to help with dinner the same day as the movie. “Well, I better get home. Thanks for today, Akechi. I had fun!” He smiled again. 

The same bright, radiant smile that made Goro’s heart smile right back. “A shame. Well, we can always spend more time together later.” He wanted to make another move. Take a chance. Do something to show his friendship. Right. They were friends. This would be fine. “See you around, Yuuki.” 

Did he really just- Hearing Akechi say his name made his whole face almost glow red. “R-right uh- yeah! See you later Ake- Goro.” He turned around and booked it before he could say something stupid or embarassing. Are we really on a first name basis with Goro Akechi now?! He thought about it for the rest of the night, nearly screwing up cooking, unable to focus on homework, staying up just thinking about the way Goro said his name, with that lovely smile and sweet voice. Why did his heart race so much? Why did he feel so warm? Was this what it felt like to- Don’t even finish that thought. This is nothing like that. He’s your friend. Nothing more than that. 

Their friendship grew from there, from lunches and movies and quiet walks, to sleepovers and Yuuki’s house (Goro wasn’t exactly comfortable inviting Yuuki to his own place) where they would stay up all night playing video games. They learned a bit more about each other, their hopes and dreams, their favorite things, even a few secrets (though nothing too serious, just silly things like Goro’s fear of heights and Yuuki’s plushie collection). They were friends, and they acknowledged that much. But there was a certain aching to their friendship. 

A feeling that sprouted when one of them looked at the other for too long. A certain tension after they shared a good laugh together. The way their skin burned if they accidentally touched. The way they hesitated before parting ways. They both knew what the feeling was. Each knew how he felt, but refused to admit it, even to himself. They were friends. That was all they were and all they’d ever be. Nothing more. 

Nothing would change that. 

Nothing, except things changing. 

Goro should have seen this coming. The injuries, the way Yuuki never seemed to want to talk about practice... Of course the coach was abusing his students. But the way it came forward... These Phantom Thieves... They were a bump in his plans, a thorn in his side... But Yuuki was of course completely enthralled. And he made sure Goro knew it. In return, Goro let Yuuki know how much he disliked them. They were dangerous criminals with unknown methods. They needed to be stopped, not celebrated. 

Just like that, things changed.

What were once fun, enjoyable outings turned into hushed arguments and a tense awkwardness. Sleepovers turned into shouting matches that ended in Goro stomping home. Before long, the sleepovers stopped. Then the outings. Then messages and meeting at the station. The Phantom Thieves but a rift between the two of them. Just another reason for Goro to despise everything about them. They ruined everything. He was supposed to be Yuuki’s hero, not them. Yuuki was supposed to admire him and treasure him and-

And love him.

He-

He just wanted Yuuki to love him.

The Phantom Thieves took everything from him. 

He would see to their end. 

Yuuki sighed as he flipped through his phone’s gallery. He used up all his space on gacha games and music, so it was time to do a photo cleanup. A picture of notes for a long past test, a video he had no recollection of recording, some selfies that were rather embarrassing... And one that made him freeze completely. The selfie that started what ended up being a painful friendship. 

He stared for a bit. Goro’s handsome princely smile he put on for his fans was one thing, but the genuine smile he had when watching Featherman, or laughing at one of Yuuki’s jokes, that stuck in his mind more than the one in the image in front of him. He still didn’t understand so much about how their friendship ended. How could he call the Phantom Thieves a threat? How could he not see how much happier Yuuki was without that bastard of a coach around to ruin his life? Did he expect Yuuki to just put up with that treatment until high school was over? He didn’t understand it at all. And yet somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely hate Goro. In fact, a part of him still- 

He still- 

He still adored Goro.

He looked at the picture again and sighed. 

Delete image?

>Yes / No

[youngster-monster]

lotus - far from the one you love

Here's the truth:

Occam doesn't trust easily. They never did, even back when they could still feel a knife press against their throat and smile anyway, terrified and elated in equal measure. They've always kept themself at arm's length from anyone, at a safe distance from pain. Watching over people with no one to watch over them. It made them a good sniper, a decent Titan in that they still protected people, in their own way.

It hasn’t gotten any better since then.

When they realize, one gloomy morning, that they trust the Drifter, that they— care for him, it doesn’t fill them with the joyful relief of a loner finally finding solace in friendship. It just feels them with dread. They can’t keep people alive: it’s out of their hands, no matter how hard they try. And if they get attached, and if that attachment dies— it hurts.

And Occam fears nothing more than getting hurt.

(Once upon a time they relished it. Embraced the pain as a stinging reminder of survival. What went wrong, they wonder, and even in their own mind its rhetorical. The answer comes anyway, unbidden, uncalled for.

Everything.)

In the end, Occam runs.

They're not proud of it. They're not not proud of it. In truth they don't think about it. No more than someone would think about their own heartbeat, except on some rare occasions where the what-ifs keep them awake before the usual nightmares can wake them up. And even then it's not regret, not quite.

Running comes as easily to Occam as breathing does. Easier, maybe. Each time they breath they trace the path of the air to their lungs and out and devise a dozen of ways to cut that route. Crush the trachea; hands around the throat, squeezing, or an arm, more efficient; a knife to the throat, between the fifth and sixth rib, in the back angled just right. A bullet (throat, tearing it apart). A bullet (lung, whichever, ideally both). A bullet (if you're a good enough shot it doesn't matter where you aim).

The more Occam learns about killing a man the more acutely aware of their own mortality they are. Their life is a tower of blown glass balanced in the palm of one hand, propped up by the butt of a gun. Fragile. Easily toppled over. What does it take to kill a Guardian? Less than they think. Bad luck. Good aim.

A bullet.

(Through a Ghost, exploding in a burst of Light and broken shell pieces.)

A bullet.

(Through the head, the Traveler blinded by the lingering Darkness.)

A bullet.

(If you're a good enough shot it doesn't matter where you aim.)

(Occam is an excellent shot. They can't trust the guy on the other side not to be, too.)

-

They pack what they can and pile up the rest, light a match, breathe in the gasoline smoke and itch for a smoke. It’s the one lethal habit they kept after everything but their last pack is lying on top of the pile. They didn’t really think this through.

(Take only what you can carry. Don't get attached to what you'll have to leave behind. Don't leave anything behind.)

They watch the leaves of the plants they carefully tended to shrivel and crumble in the flames. Unblinking. Unflinching. Build themself an armor with the ashes and make themself small under it, easily hidden. Easily overlooked.

There's only one pot left. A small one. Baby blue flowers, the kind they refuse to name or look at for too long. Sentimental flowers that they couldn’t throw on the bonfire with the rest. They sneak into the Drifter's room while he's out and leaves them on the closest surface, next to a still-beating Knight heart. It'll keep the flowers company while he's gone–

He's not, though. He stands in the doorway, back-lit by the corridor. Occam didn't bother turning the lights on. They didn't plan to stick around. Still don't.

"Leaving without a good-bye?” He says, in that lighthearted way of his that never fooled anyone. “That's cold, brother. Didn’t take you for the kind to kiss and run."

And that’s the whole problem, isn’t it? Love — because that’s what it is, in the end — is dangerous. It’s a risk, and not one they’re willing to take. Not now, with the Nine at their door, Darkness on their heels. They have to run. Drifter knows it, too, by the look in his eyes. A kind of resolute anticipation, like he knows what’s about to happen and he’s still waiting for… what. For Occam to offer an explanation? A map to their next landfall, an address to send postcards to?

An invitation to come along?

(Would he come along?)

Would Drifter do the same, were their places reversed? Or would he find a better way? Stay anyway? Would he come if Occam asked?

He would. That’s what they scare the most. Whether or not he’d want to come, he would. As selfish as they are – and they are selfish, Light, they'd keep the whole world tucked behind their teeth if they could get their hand on it – they can't ask that of him.

He’s a liability.

(Maybe if they keep telling that to themself it will come true.)

Easier to survive if you only have to worry about your own ass. Better chances when you're only hiding your sorry carcass, when you don't have to choose between your beating heart and what it's beating for.

They close their eyes so they don’t have to look into his as they transmat to their ship without a word. When it comes down to it, Occam is just a runner. A coward. Doesn’t leave much room for teamwork.

(They don't know how to run away with anyone. Only how to run away from them.)

-

Out of all the people Occam's known, Thyme came the closest to figuring their nature.

"You're a monster, Dredgen Khan," she'd said, digging a finger in their chest as if to prove a point. "You're a rotten, despicable person, an even worse Guardian, and you won't even be worth the wood they make your coffin out of."

She was right, of course, the whole five foot nothing of righteous wrath of her, but for all the wrong reasons. She thought all their actions were evil because they were evil, too.

The truth is that Occam isn't evil. They're not an inhuman monster.

They're just scared. They're a small, pathetic person, scared out of their mind and made selfish and petty by the fear. It’s worse, maybe.

One can excuse many things for the greater good, be it real or made up by your own twisted sense of morality. Not many excuses for cowardice.

She'd been right then. Worst out of all this situation might be that they've been doing nothing but proving her right again and again since.

-

There aren’t many places a rogue Lightbearer can run off to and survive. Even they need food, need clean water and a shelter, and the few habitable places in the Sol system that survived the Collapse are held by Guardians.

This is how Occam washes up on the Tangled Shore. It’s easy to disappear there. Easy to get yourself killed, too, which is why they hadn’t initially planned to settle here. But they need supplies, which means they need Glimmers, and the Tangled Shore is where you come when your need for funds outweighs your morals. The rifle they carry ought to be enough to keep them safe, if only for the time it takes them to find a better long-term plan.

(Here’s what they forgot: it’s a hunting ground, and they’re more prey than apex predator.)

He comes to them weeks after their departure. By then they’ve somewhat settled into their role in the food chain of the Reef, enough to make the most of it. At the moment they’re sitting in a dark corner of the Spider’s Palace, waiting for an informant who’s running late by hours — not unusual but still worrying. Good sources are hard to find and they’d rather keep those they have alive for longer than a few days. Especially since what got them killed tends to travel up the chain back to Occam, and that’s more trouble than any job is worth.

But when someone finally sits down in front of them, it’s not the nervous Marauder they were expecting.

It’s Shin Malphur.

The sight is so unexpected that for a moment, Occam is actually too shocked to be afraid. They knew, kind of distantly, that this place was among the Renegade’s usual haunts, because where else to find Dredgens than among the dregs of polite society. But he’s not one to come out in the light, ironically enough. He prefers his face covered, his identity hidden — an intimidation tactic and security in equal measure. He keeps to the shadows, tracking his preys, waiting for the moment to strike. A Hunter, in every way.

(My, Renegade, what long teeth you have.)

Now, though, he sits opposite of Occam without a helmet. He has his hood up, for what it’s worth, casting his face in shadows but failing to cover the Light glowing through the cracks and flaring in his eyes. Every line of his body as he slouches in his chair is relaxed, careless, in every way the cocky Guardian he’s pretending to be. An easy prey for the people here. He keeps a hand on his gun, but even that seems more bravado than actual threat even though they know exactly how dangerous he is.

And then he smiles, a small, crooked thing that never reaches his eyes, and they remember.

Shin Malphur is a wolf.

Occam isn’t sure what to think of Shin Malphur’s presence here.

The two of them struck an uneasy alliance some time ago. Rather a ceasefire over their mutual fondness for the Drifter, unexplained though it may be on Malphur’s part. They’re not exactly on friendly terms, nor are they outwardly aggressive toward each other the way Occam could be with Thyme. They’re at that weird spot between awkward acquaintances and natural enemies born from dramatically opposed worldviews and several ill-advised hookups.

It’s not enough to guess his motives for coming after Occam, but just enough to stay on their guard when he leans forwards and says,

“You’re a difficult person to find.”

Not difficult enough, apparently. They lean back, try to keep some manner of a safe distance between the two of them. Shin’s grin widens at that, a quick flash of sincere emotion.

“I try to be. Why are you here?”

They know he’s here on his own volition — the person who can make Shin do anything he doesn’t want to has yet to exist or is long dead and gone — but they still feel a pang of… disappointment, perhaps, when he replies, “Checking you haven’t gone to the dark side. Mostly.”

They scowl. Their helmet hides the expression, which is always useful, but they can’t help feeling like they’re leaning on it too much. Not that they can go around without it safely, but it’ll do them good to keep it in mind. Just in case.

(It simply wouldn’t do to come back and be like an open book to-)

They shake themself out of this train of thought. Shin’s presence is more disturbing than expected.

“Well. I haven’t.” They go to open their arms as if to present themself to him before realizing, somewhat belatedly, that they look exactly the way they did the handful of times they met while Occam was on Dredgen business and it might look a little suspicious. They cross their arms over their chest instead. The movement looks awkward but they always feel like that when Shin is around. He has a knack for keeping them off-balance. “You can leave now. I’m busy.”

“Oh, if you’re waiting for your informant, don’t bother. I ran him off to be sure we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

“You-”

Occam makes a frustrated noise and rubs the visor of their helmet in a vain effort to alleviate the headache Shin is giving them. When they look up, Shin is staring at them. His arms are crossed over the table, fingers drumming on the grimy surface. He’s abandoned all pretenses of not being on the hunt: now the question is to find what he’s hunting.

Information, or Occam themself? Either is as likely, but one will be easier to get out of than the other.

(He’s like a dog with a bone when he finds something to be curious about. At least when he’s on a manhunt Occam can usually distract him once they’ve reached the ‘pinned against a wall with a gun pointed at his head’ part of the evening. Shin awakens parts of their psyche they thought they had killed off long ago. It’s unfortunate that it had to be the ‘life-threatening situations put them in the mood’ thing rather than their sense of empathy or what passed for their mental health back then.)

“You planning on coming back at some point?”

They look to the side, pretend to be surveying the room. They know it won’t fool him but it feels safer than looking him in the eyes when they say, “No.” and mean, I want to.

Knowing Shin he could read the lie right through the helmet.

“You’re a moron.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, you are. You know it too,” he says, not… entirely unkindly. “You’re not safer here than you were in the Tower. This place’s gonna be the first to get hit by the Darkness once it reaches the system, and that’s if you don’t get stabbed in the back by an overeager Fallen before that. What are you doing here, Occam?”

Running away, like they always do. Hiding and waiting for the fallout. They don’t tell him that, though. Why would they?

Instead they stand to their feet, almost knocking their chair back in the process. “That doesn’t concern you,” they say, as placidly as they can muster.

“It concerns Drifter, and he’s no use to me when he’s moping.”

That gives them a pause. They know they’re being played: the look he gives them, calculating and self-satisfied, tells them that much. Still they stay. Against their own better judgment.

“He’s not moping.”

“How would you know?”

“He doesn’t care enough to mope.”

They mean it like, ‘Drifter has been alive far too long to care about one asshole he’s been carefully Not Dating for months leaving for the Reef’. Obviously Shin has to take it the wrong way.

“Is this what it’s about? You think he doesn’t care enough?” When they don’t react to his guess, he shrugs. “Or maybe you’re the one who cares too much. You got too invested and then ran away so there would be no possibility of talking about it.”

This time, they flinch. They can’t help it. Shin can be unnervingly perceptive when he wants to be, and he’s usually cruel about it. At least with Occam. 

His grin tells them he smelled blood; now he’s going for the kill.

“You’re in l-”

They turn on their heels and stride off before he can finish the sentence. His voice chases them out of the room.

“You can’t run forever! Eventually he’s gonna be the one tracking you down, and what are you gonna do then, huh?”

Run further away, possibly. Or hide until he gets bored and leaves. It’s worked well for them so far.

[ivyveil]

Mary Me

the one where he proposes

OR:

The 1940s installment of a Soul-Mates verse.

The room was swathed in a deep maroon. Curtains draped against the windows, curves forming around the sills and down the gold columns on either side.

It was a nice restaurant, with expensive-looking candles and fresh-cut flowers on each table. The bar wasn’t fully stocked enough for the crowds milling about, having yet to find its balance of supply since Prohibition ended a few months ago. It was a rough adjustment for everyone, with the prices taking a jolt and the people having to remember what a drink tasted like without poison.

While the idea of a fancy restaurant would allude towards privacy, this dinner was anything but. Granted, it was a personal room but the numerous crowds of friends and family around the table led the mood towards something more lively than dim lights and slow jazz. Tables were pushed against the walls, only a handful actually sitting down, and the band had taken its land near one of the corners, setting up an orchestra to dance for.

It was a gathering, a party.

Nerves were knotted against the floor of your stomach, and despite having a glass of champagne in one hand and hooch in the other, nothing was easing the clench. Perhaps it was residue from hardships that had only ended a few years ago, or it could be the more instinctive nerves - holding alcohol without needing to look over one’s shoulder was still new for everyone. Even now, you saw Nick stealing a glance at the waitstaff, as if sussing out which was the cop.

“‘lright, love?” Harry spoke low, his hand briefly resting against your back as he came around from behind. It wasn’t far into the party, enough time having passed for his entrance to be marked by everyone already feeling tipsy, but not raising an eyebrow at his late arrival.

His suit was understated, a black with minimal design. His mother would tailor all of his suits, resulting in most of them being the absolute extravagant pieces for all the parties he threw - the magnificent ones where the moon grew twice to try and be an inch closer, where the ocean glittered around his villa and you could strain to taste the rose-colored smoke in the air. They were alive with people and spirits and spirited people, and the types who would disappear in the morning and you’d question their existence, but never their stories.

His suit was fine, but his hair was a proper mess. Harry had insisted to you a few days ago, a dopey smile on his face as he leaned against your shoulder, that it was a rebel of the highest degree.  You knew the words were bullshit, but the way he spoke sounded like a home you’d never known, so you listened.

“You need a haircut.” The words came out before you could properly hold them back, the liquor having moistened your throat and disconnected your mind from your choices.

Harry broke into a smile, this time shaking his head slightly so the curls danced, delighted, in the dim glow.

“You like it?” he asked, and you made a sour face in response. He took one of the drinks from your hands, making the low noise in the back of his throat to signal disapproval. Where Harry managed to gather his rebellious streak of societal indignity, but still manage to believe that women should be held up on pedestals and protected, eluded you.

But you were still dizzy with him. Drunk in the way he said your name, caught up in his eyelashes, a fatal swoop in your chest that felt like laying in bed after a long day’s work. You were simply infatuated, but insistent on the fact that the feelings drifted no farther. Infatuation could be controlled, but love.

Love would be an entire beast that you couldn’t battle. It would include leaving him, leaving him because Mary was cemented down in his roots. Not that you’d agree with it, but she was, and it was a reality you lived with.

They’d been sweet on each other for the first couple months. You hadn’t kept up on the details too much. But time had worn their feelings thin, wafering holes poking through in the way they loved. Which was a wrong, horrendous source of comfort to you - but it terrified you, as well. Harry was the embodiment of love, with how he danced and moved and swayed into the moonlight, and yet there was something off in the way he loved Mary. It felt like a commitment for the sake of, rather than motivated each day, and the failures of love haunted you.

“Where’s Mary?”

Harry shrugged, taking a swig of the drink and looking against the crowd. The two of you were propped against the wall, as if only existing in the plane of the party by the physical constraints. If you had your way, your souls would fall through the wallpaper and into something more exquisite.

Harry had a way of making the dullest parties exciting, and you wondered what he had up his sleeve. But his face showed no signs of telling, a crease along his forehead denting in his sudden gloom and moodiness.

“Dunno. Was gonna find her, thought she’d be with yeh.”

That was his mistake, his constant mistake, of seeking his love around you. It was there but not where he expected - it was manifestation he sought, the woman he called ‘darling’ on late nights out, not the friend he called ‘love’ because it meant nothing.

Words didn’t quite fit your mood, so you merely shrugged and shifted your weight between legs. The music had picked up but your feet had been worn to the bone by running all over town the previous night, so you prayed Harry’s stance next to you would dissuade any men from approaching.

“Think I’ve got to end things with Mary, yeah?”

It was a loaded question, especially with Harry’s eyes staring into yours. It was a rush, how the lights cascaded down the side of his face and his hair was a horrible mess, an unsightly vision for anyone in town, but he was utterly angelic nonetheless. It was a weird sensation against your throat, seeing him tragic and sad, and not knowing how to respond that wouldn’t be an attempt to benefit your own tragic and sad.

“Why’d you say that?” you asked.

“It was never right, was it?” He spoke thoughtfully, scanning your face for agreement, and apparently finding some, for he continued. “It’s reached an end.”

Silence befell the two of you, yet it was heavy with the implication of further words against his tongue. They weren’t spoken yet, but you felt with one more moment-

“I’ve got somethin’ I need to say to yeh. After it’s done.” His eyes had swept to his feet, the dirty tips of his shoes from the soil around the town.

You both were misplaced, you felt it in your soul and the way you two would wrap in each other’s auras, clasped at the hands and promising you’d escape this hellhole of a town one day. And it only was proven in how Harry’s eyebrows sloped together, a defiance in the order of things prominent in his pursed lips.

“Okay,” you drawled it out, but Harry didn’t seem to find anything humorous. With a tilted neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing and drawing your eyes in like flies to honey, he downed the rest of your champagne.

“See her over there,” he mumbled, slipping back into the throngs of the party. He was still incredibly visible, a mess of hair and clunky shoes passing through the sea towards his girl. She was sat, pretty and prim, but you could tell she felt only half. Mary had an odd sense about her, a jealousy towards you for sure, but a feeling around her sphere of influence that she wasn’t full unless Harry was there. Half-dazed without, only focused on him with, there was seemingly no win.

The pair of them slipped out into the night together, with your eyes trailing behind. Mary was oblivious as to how the conversation would go, and for that, you were conflicted.

It must have made you an awful person, how the nerves crashed against giddiness. The drinks may have kicked into effect, because before you knew it - you were swaying and dancing against the moonlight, around the tables with the rest of the folk, pained heels clipping against the floor as they did every night, dancing out the mundanity of a town life crippled with the distrust of life. It would be a conversation for the rest of the night, how Harry would retell the dramatic discussion with fire in his eyes and a sadness plunging into his heart, because he always felt guilty and you’d never understand why.

——–

You glided out of the mass, panting with how the dance took your breath away, feeling the redness built up in your cheeks and the sweat on your brow. You passed Nick with his wide eyes and bursts of laughter, and noticed how he winked at you when you left the room. The restroom was calling.

The main hall of the restaurant was bustling with normal activity, waiters dashing around with massively weighed trays balanced against their shoulders. There was a coat rack near the entrance, huddled with pounds of jackets, hats, and scarves, and a lone Harry Styles squatted next to it.

He looked up when you passed by, the hollows of his cheeks straining purple in the grotesque lights.

You paused next to him, almost dashing around to head and pee, but his expression caught you off guard.

He looked in another world. His eyes, blue with morose, opened to look at nothing. Eyelids heavy with almost boredom, but his posture offered enough to let you know his demons were free once more.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, and once he shifted to the side, you took the cue to sit beside him, crossing your legs and ignoring your body’s protests.

His mouth open and closed, his fingers spread wide in front of him to grasp onto his senses, but they were nowhere to be found. His lips were glistening, perhaps from him licking them continuously, but a small streak against his cheek made you think otherwise.

“Was she upset?” It was all you had to offer, but it seemed like you hadn’t struck gold. He continued to mime whatever words that were escaping him, but your attention had been caught elsewhere.

In one of his hands, you had thought he was holding onto his pack of cigarettes. At second glance, however, it wasn’t. It was terrible.

The fact it wasn’t, and the fact his mouth was gaping, and the fact his eyes were glassed and that his shoulders were quivering – it all accumulated into a story you never expected.

A blue velvet box, iconic in its time, holding only one thing inside.

“Harry, is that-”

“She’s pregnant,” he managed to choke out, not glancing at the box, his voice cracking in its sudden revival, “Mary’s pregnant.”

“She’s what.”

“Couldn’t break it off, would she gonna do? Can’t go back to live with her parents, the town’s too far off-” he continued to speak, words that made sense when combined but gibberish with how he stringed them. It was a rant that had been built into his lungs and found a small stream to blow off, with only your collection of stammers breaking through the dam.

“Did you–’re you–is that–”

“Proposed. Bit rushed, didn’t get on a knee, but it did its duty. I did mine, anyhow,” he said, a desperate gloominess clutched your dress as he presented the box. His fingers fumbled against the velvet, nubbed fingertips and signs of bitten skin surrounding the nails.

Opened, the box was empty. The contents were stuck on Mary’s finger, presumably back at the party showing off the latest development in her life.

“Congratulations.” It didn’t feel as if it were you who said anything, the voice too breathless and at ease to have come out of your body, with its thundering heartbeat and screaming mind.

“Gotta get a job, gotta call up Howard ‘n see what’s not ‘n the papers. There’s gotta be something, yeah? Need a crib, now, too.” It was clear his mind was far off, into what he needed to do, in the adult-life that neither of you had never quite fit into, but was now thrust upon him.

All your mind was on, was the trip you two had been planning for the past year. Harry had promised train tickets across the country, down towards where the sun always shone and the waters were constantly warm around your ankles, even in the dead of night. Maps and notebooks had cluttered your office for months, with strings attaching your future endeavors in a maze of findings. It had started out as an escape from the Depression, the one that had seemingly ended but never quite had, the one where your throats were aching for more than speakeasies could offer.

It wasn’t going to happen. It simply couldn’t. You’d never see how he would look, dozed off across from you on your hundredth train, his backpack used as a makeshift pillow. You’d never feel the brutal mountain winds with him. You’d never be able to wander around the greatest cities of America, you’d never explore all the lives you could’ve lived, in towns you never knew existed.

The realization brought you to another moment, another question, one out of place with Harry’s rant but in tune with how your blood ran cold.

“Where’d you get the ring?”

That snapped Harry’s attention, and his bloodshot eyes managed to find you in their blur. Perhaps it was an expectation, for you to ask, but the surprise against his lips, how they parted with a slacked jaw and a sharp inhale, said otherwise.

“Wha’?”

You repeated yourself, and he staggered into a motionless statue of himself, a final shake of his shoulders until he ceased to move. Just stared at you, haunted.

I’ve got somethin’ I need to say to yeh.

“Harry.” To your surprise, it almost sounded admonished.

His eyes were pleading for you not to speak. For speaking would bring it into existence, and he could never juggle it all. Neither of you could, it was a mortal flaw that ran deep into your flesh, and now against your heart, where it felt it would stay forever.

You felt compelled to speak anyway, motivated slightly by the intoxication and the exhaustion and the bitterness in which life was taking from you continuously, without ceasing, and this was the one chance to take something back for yourself. To give a bit of yourself back towards him, to offer a glimpse of the life that could’ve been.

“I would’ve said yes.”

It was quiet.

You thought Harry was being quiet, as well, but his hands reached up to wrack against his scalp, collecting at his hair and his head went between his knees.

He gave a nod, a gentle movement from your perspective, and a choked cry. It was stifled by the sudden uproar within the restaurant – perhaps another fight, perhaps another birthday, you didn’t care – and your arm went around his shoulder, bringing him into your chest.

You cried. Tucked away, hidden behind swaths of clothing that had belonged to the rich and now hung off the poor, surrounded by lights and glamour that suddenly became cheap and instrumental, compared to what you two had deserved. He felt warm against your skin, his forehead now pressed against your shoulder as his body pushed forward in distress. Time stretched to allow for you both to have one moment, a solace against the blazing sun of normalcy. It was one minute until Anne would burst through the party doors, searching for her son, perhaps having caught a glimpse of the truth and knowing where his heart truly was.

But for that minute, his heart was in your chest, the beats matching up, the pair united for a last breath.

The box slipped from his fingers and landed on the floor, half-open and completely empty.

It was a reality you’d have to live with.

[studiobeebo]

Happy Birthday (Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader)

uhhhhhhh i would die for shinsou and he deserves the best birthday in the entire world js

Sleepless nights had become more common than nights when he could sleep for Shinsou Hitoshi.

Sometimes this was a good thing as he would have time to stay up and work on homework or just relax, maybe if he was really restless go out for a short walk, but there were also times where those restless nights weren’t so fun. There were times when all he wanted was to sleep, to wash away all the crap that had built up to amount for one horrible day and start fresh the next day, but when he couldn’t sleep, it felt like all those thoughts and feelings carried on with him to the following day.

It was a pretty bad cycle, in his opinion, and he wanted nothing more but to put a stop to it somehow, but lately there hadn’t been much that could help. He was often left tossing and turning in an annoyed attempt to get comfortable or getting up twenty times to get a glass of water or just stretch his legs, but nothing could put him to sleep so he was left to stare at the screen of his phone, which was probably way too bright to be healthy for his eyes, but his phone was his only solace. Or rather, you were his only solace.

Sometimes he felt guilty texting you at early hours of the morning, knowing you were probably just as sleepy as he was, so he’d sit there with a message typed out but end up just staring at it for a few minutes before deleting it. He didn’t want to wake you up just for him, after all, that would be selfish. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was something that would turn you away from him.

His feelings for you weren’t really...intentional, but then again, no crush ever was. It started out small, and to be honest he was kind of suspicious in regards to how friendly you were to him, introducing yourself within the first few days of his time at UA and going on to say ‘Good morning!’ or a similar small greeting the following days. Once he realized you weren’t just talking to him out of pity, surely hearing the little rumors here or there regarding his quirk, he started to return the favor, starting with small talk and moving on to a point where the two of you would eat lunch together almost every day. It was nice to have someone to talk to after all, especially since you didn’t seem to mind his sarcastic and sometimes cynical sense of speaking and would often add your own witty quips that got even him to smile. Before he knew it, seeing you everyday became a motivator in his life, especially after you spoke so encouragingly to him about following his dreams to become a hero. ‘Puppy love’, you could call it, as it could surely be seen as childish to feel such strong feelings towards someone after only a few months, but hey, you can’t help what your heart longs for.

The quiet ‘buzz’ caused by the vibration coming from his phone brought him out of his stupor, and for a moment he was a bit annoyed since he knew he was slowly falling asleep, no doubt thinking of you, but seeing that the message was actually from you soothed that irritation, and when he actually read the message, he felt like an idiot for how warm his cheeks became and he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling just as stupidly as he read it over a second time.

‘i’m guessing ur awake anyways so hopefully i’m the first to say happy birthday Hitoshi!!!!’

The following burst of different birthday themed emojis was cute, in his opinion, and the last few hearts revitalized the itch he’d been suppressing to just ask you out already and get it over with. His thumbs danced over the keyboard awkwardly as he tried to think of what to say, knowing a simple ‘thanks’ would be too little but ‘hey, would you date me if I asked?’ would be way too much, at least for him. Before he had the chance to actually say something in response, however, the little typing bubble popped up on his screen before he received another message from you.

‘also I haven’t been able to get you a gift yet, but I promise it won’t be too late!’

The idea that you even felt the need to get him a gift was ridiculous. After all, with you around, what more could he ask for? A moment passed and he began typing out a response of his own, a smile still on his face as he pressed send.

‘here I thought we were friends, guess I’m just gonna have a lonely sad birthday’

The quickness of your text back made him feel a sense of pride or maybe just happiness to have your attention on him, but when he actually read your message, his smile dropped only to be replaced by a look of shock.

‘hey who said it had to be lonely??? we should go get something to eat after school tomorrow! I’ll pay of course birthday boy’

If the mention of going out to eat with you alone wasn’t enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, the little kissy face emoji surely was and he could not believe how much a tiny stupid little digital drawing could make his heart race. There’s no way that would be considered a date, right? It was just a gift, after all, but in any other circumstances…

‘obvi we don’t have to though’

A message, and then moments later, yet another one.

‘sorry if that’s like weird or something’

Were you...nervous? ‘No way’, he told himself, thinking there was no possible way someone like you could feel nervous around someone like him. He felt nervous every time he opened his mouth around just because of how he felt though, so maybe there was some hope that you felt similarly. Still, even with his heart and mind racing he couldn’t just leave you without an answer, so he typed out a response before hesitantly hitting send, thanking whatever gods that were out there that you hadn’t asked this in person because his voice surely would have been shaking if he had to respond to your request vocally, but thankfully if he worded things right you wouldn’t be able to tell just how anxious he was.

‘not weird at all, that sounds good actually’

If only he knew that the anxious breath he took in was matched to a relieved one you let out upon receiving such a message, thanking the heavens that you hadn’t just ruined the chance you had been building up to get to for weeks upon recognizing you “slight” crush on your purple haired hero as your thumbs typed quickly with excitement.

‘awesome sounds like a plan!!!!! i should probably be gettin to sleep tho, u should too nerd!’

That was enough to bring a soft smile to his face again, the endearing ‘insult’ never failing to make him happy as he texted you his ‘good night’ message before placing his phone down on his bedside table. After sitting up for a moment he laid back down, one arm draped over his eyes as he smiled to himself like the love struck loser he was. Oh, what a ‘happy’ birthday it was, and it had only just begun.

[jarmes]

Peaches

A story about really good peach cobbler.

It was rainy, cold, and miserable the first time I ate peach cobbler. Perhaps the dreariness of that day contributed to the fantastical taste of the cobbler. I don’t know. What I do know is this: the peach cobbler I ate on that rainy day was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

I was seven, back then, and very bad at following directions. My parents told me many things in my youth, out of a desire to keep me safe. Always walk straight home, don’t talk to strangers, that sort of thing. I, of course, ignored these commands and stopped by a rickety street vendor on my way home from school.

It was rather strange, the street vendor. I grew up in a small town, one where street vendors were extremely rare. To make matters stranger, this vendor was parked in a back alley on the outskirts of town. Looking back, I probably should have been suspicious of a vendor selling peach cobbler at four o’clock on a rainy day in a back alley. Fortunately, no harm came to me that day.

The vendor was an old metal cart covered by a yellow umbrella. The words PEACH COBBLER - 25¢ PER PIECE were written on the cart in bold letters. An old man wearing a thick coat stood behind the cart reading a newspaper, a large hat covering his face. The most notable thing about the cart was the amazing aroma that wafted through the air around it, smelling of sugar and fruit. I wandered over to the vendor to investigate the wonderful smell. I placed a quarter on the cart and the old man silently cut a piece of peach cobbler and gave it to me. A picked the piece of peach cobbler up with my hands and took a bite.

That peach cobbler was better than anything I had ever eaten and better than anything I have eaten since. The sugary cobbler melted in my mouth like butter as I took my first bite, the sweetness of the dish calming my heart like a lullaby. Every bite of that cobbler was like a dream blended into a smooth milkshake. Before long, the cobbler was gone.

I searched through my pockets, trying to find another quarter. My pockets were empty. Eyeing the tin full of fresh cobbler, my stomach growled. I reached to steal a piece and the old man smacked my hand with his newspaper. “Cobbler’s 25¢,” he said.

“I don’t have any more money,” I said.

“And that means you’re just allowed to steal?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. The old man sighed. “You get in trouble a lot, don’t you?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I figured as much. Would you like another piece?”

I nodded my head and he passed a second piece to me. “I can’t really blame you,” he said as I devoured the cobbler. “My cobbler is incredibly good. Old family recipe, made out of special Ithikos Peaches.”

“What’re ethicas peaches?” I said, my mouth full of food.

“Ithikos,” he said. “And chew with your mouth closed. They’re a special breed of peaches from Greece that tasted amazing. They actually grow faster when the person who planted them does good things.”

The man reached inside the cart and grabbed a small seed. He placed it in my hand. “Here,” he said. “Take this seed, plant it in your backyard. Eventually, it will grow into a mighty tree, one which you can pick your own peaches from.”

I thanked the man and ran home. I planted the seed in my backyard. That night, I dreamed of the strange man and his delicious peach cobbler. I returned the alley the next day, but the man wasn’t there. I never saw him again. The seedling planted in my backyard and the memories of the peach cobbler remained as the only remnants of that day in the rain. Looking back, the whole event seems less like something that happened to me and more like a weird dream. Still, the memories of that peach cobbler are burned into my mind.

A few days later, I convinced my grandmother to bake me some peach cobbler. It was good, I suppose, but it was nothing when compared to the amazing peach cobbler I ate that day in the rain. Over the years, I have tried many different cobblers, none of which came even close to being as delicious as the one I got from that street vendor.

A week later, I got into a fight at school. I ended up knocking another kids teeth out and received a black eye and a week of suspension for my trouble. My parents grounded me and I spent a week in my room, staring out my window at my backyard. The seed that I had planted a week before hadn’t sprouted yet.

When I finally returned to school, my parents made me apologize to the kid I got into a fight with. I pretended to be really sorry to get my parents off my back. I got down on my knees and cried, saying that I didn’t mean to hurt the other kid and really just wanted friends. My words were hollow, but I gave a convincing performance. When I returned home that day, I noticed that the seed had finally sprouted.

I remembered the old man’s words, his explanation that the peach seed grew faster when its planter did good things. By getting into a fight, I paused the tree’s growth. But, when I apologized, the tree sprouted.

I decided to dedicate myself to doing good deeds, in hope that the tree would eventually bloom and I could taste that delicious peach cobbler once more. Over the next ten years, I spent hours in the library reading books on ethics. I helped dozens of old ladies cross the street and organized charity fundraisers in my spare time. Basically, I became a perfect child.

My parents were thrilled at my transformation. Gone were the detention slips and calls from teachers, replaced by people around town telling them what a good kid they had. Of course, my motive for becoming a better person was one of selfishness. Still, the peach tree didn’t seem to mind, growing little by little with each good deed.

Five years after the day I first had peach cobbler, another rainy, cold, and miserable day arrived. As I walked home, I decided to stop by the alleyway where I met the old man. That’s where I found the dog.

The dog was a mangy mutt with tangled fur and a missing leg. Her skin clung tightly around its ribs, presumably from years of starvation, and flies buzzed around her like vultures. She didn’t get up when drew close; instead, she just laid there in the rain, waiting for death to come. I picked her up and carried her to the local animal shelter.

There isn’t a sadder place in the world than an animal shelter. Cages filled with lonely animals, wanting nothing more than to be adopted and loved, are a truly sad sight. As the shelter vet looked at the dog I brought in, I realized that the shelter was an untapped goldmine of good deeds.

I ended up getting a job volunteering at the shelter, helping take care of the animals after school. I fed them, washed them, and played with them every day. Most importantly, I searched for new owners for them. And, on the sad days when the shelter needed to put an animal down, I held their paws as they passed. As for the dog I found in the rain, I convinced my parents to let me adopt her. I named her Peaches.

The tree in my back tree grew faster than ever. Yet, the more I spent time at the shelter, the less I cared. I began helping out, not out of a desire to have the tree grow faster, but out of empathy and compassion for the animals. I even started looking at veterinary colleges so I could help animals after I grew up. Then, when I was seventeen, the tree finally bloomed.

It was rainy, cold, and miserable. I had just gotten home from the shelter and was studying in my bedroom. The sound of thunder broke my concentration. I looked out the window. That’s when I saw it.

A tall tree with emerald leaves shook in in the wind. Pink orbs hung from its branches, seemingly glowing in the night air. I rushed outside to pick one of the peaches. The vivid memories of the delicious peach cobbler I ate a decade ago swirled in my mind. I picked a peach right as lightning struck.

The tree exploded in a burst of light and heat, knocking me to the ground. Fortunately, I was unharmed. The tree, on the other hand, was destroyed, reduced to nothing more than a pile of burned ash. All of its fruit was gone. All except one.

I stared at the peach in my hand. By some lucky stroke of fate, it was completely fine. Taking a deep breath, I sunk my teeth into the peach.

It tasted like a normal peach. It wasn’t bad, by any means, but it certainly wasn’t what I had spent ten years dreaming of. I started crying. Everything I’d done in the past ten years was absolutely pointless.

Peaches walked over to me a laid down by my head. She started licking my face. I laughed. “Good girl,” I muttered as I pet her.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely pointless.

[hoenn-hakase]

TPP Flora Sky Summary Day 3

Bits of weirdness aside, yesterday had been pretty chill outside of our meeting Team Aqua, or at least a single grunt, who seemed very adamant about obtaining a PokeDex. Having returned that to Wally, we’re hanging out in Turzoro City for our next big gym match! Ah now, it’s a new day and a new grind! Because where we last saw our host, Hannah was doing some dedicated planning and training in preparing for her match against Wattson after changing out some teammates. I’m gonna miss Watchog and Comma but especially Bowza. RIP ;o;

We begin the day with Hannah going against Wattson for a purposeful blackout since the Voices were more intent on the PC than healing the team. She immediately goes back to challenge him for the first time with her new and improved team only to get DEMORALIZED by having him one-shot her first Pokemon (Ninjask) and when she switched in for Shedinja to spam some Double Team, he also switched in for an Emolga with Aerial Ace making both the attack and all her hard work on raising Nincada to Shedinja a total waste. At least… for this match. His flying rodent then goes on to basically DESTROY the rest of her team in a feat of fury. Egads! How did A.A. do this with only a weaksauce pair of Pokemon???

In shock at the loss, Hannah goes RIGHT BACK TO HIM with basically the same results. Okay, Voices…. What now? Well given their determination to get to the PC, that is exactly the first place they go. We immediately deposit Bitty the Ninjask and head for the desert to find us a Gound-Type. However, Hannah gets distracted by realizing that not too far from the desert is a whole new area she hasn’t discovered yet and heads over the ledge into Route P and eventually wanders her way into the ~mysterious~ Hippowdon Temple. 8O

There doesn’t actually seem to be anything to this place, but it does eventually dump her back into the desert of Route J where she finally catches her a Trapinch! Emerald Veterans are internally screaming and cracking up. Turns out the cave entrance was just a taste of what’s to come as she sees at the other end of this desert alcove is the REAL Hippowdon Temple! An ancient and massive looking structure of stonework sitting hidden away by the edges of the mountains and sandstorms that surround it. She goes inside to find the place eerily well lit for a potentially long since abandoned building and walks up to the altar which is lit by nearby torches and guarded by equally ancient statues that look down on her. Strangely, the offering in place seems to be… an escape rope? What’s so special about that? As soon as she picks it up though THE FLOOR DROPS OUT FROM UNDER HER AND CASTS HER INTO THE ABYSS! At least she managed to get the Escape Rope into her bag so it wasn’t a total waste XD

Waking up in the darkness, Hannah pulls out her lanturn to cast a small bubble of light. It sure would be nice to have Comma right now though… She checks her PokeNav to see that while there’s no signal to call anyone, the map app is still working. Despite the place having teleporters it seems she is most definitely still on Route J. Okay… time to go exploring then… She finds her way to a teleporter that warps her into another treasure room, and leery as she is after the last one, she goes up to investigate as it’s the only possible means to proceed. Sure enough! As soon as she picks up the Red Shard… Nothing happens! Cool! We spend quite a lot of time poking around on the PokeDex and Hannah zooms in on her map to find out that this temple isn’t even listed (spoopy D8 ) before heading back to the teleporter which… spits her out at the entrance. Okaaay???

Well since she got kicked out by the temple itself, Hannah decides she’s had enough adventure for one day and heads back to Route P for some serious Badger Hunting! 8D

After finally blacking out and going back to town, we head straight for the PC and while I could explain, I couldn’t do better than this XDD

Hannah is so disgusted with US, she runs and runs and runs and doesn’t stop running until she gets stopped by Gabby & Ty, NEWS NEWS NEWS folk extraordinaires! Ty brings up that Hanna looks like a really tough trainer and wonders if she’d be willing to show off for them with the camera rolling. …. Now really isn’t a good time, but y’know what? Sure. Beating up someone sure would make her feel better right about now! Despite having only Miss Tea and Aga (and an unconscious Penguin), the small team does pretty well in… Losing. Ah well, back at the Pokemon Center, we head up to the PC, casually grab Shedinja out of “timeout”, and head for the desert to restock our lack of Ground-types.

Okay, not that it’s important, but it’s pretty funny. There’s this hill in the Route J desert that requires the Mach Bike to get up to get on top of the cliffs that surround it. Last time we came across this thing, Hannah actually had a blackout trying to climb that hill and she’d tried to scale it every time she passed it to no avail before the Voices gave up and moved on or she passed out. We FINALLY got up there this time just to find an Ultra Ball as the only noticeable thing of interest. Worth it. XD

Now back to the desert, we continue with The Grind in preparation for the gym but we also catch a Gible! Tiny dragon named AAAAAAAAAT! Also we catch a Gligar named AAAAABBNNB. I think I shall call them… Ninat (9 As and a T?) and Abner less someone has an actual nickname that was used OR they do something to earn a name otherwise. ^ w ^

We head into the fields of Route L where we try to talk to the Azurill Gang, but alas. This isn’t Blazed Glazed, so Hannah has no idea what their beef is. At least she can still continue training her newest members in the nearby grass where we have Aga the Ralts become Aga the Kirlia! 8D

Unable to coordinate enough to heal, Hannah just goes to Wattson for a new black eye and heads out to The Grind once more.

Despite getting dark out, Hannah decides in all her desert wanderings to head BACK to the Hippowdon Temple to see how she and her new teammates will fare before getting kicked out again. Heading back to the Red Shard chamber, we find one of the memorialized Hippowdon to catch for ourselves before coming across a very angry mummy who decided she’d rather destroy herself by cursing Ninat than join our ranks. Smart move, Cofagrigus. Smart move. XD Seems there’s really nothing more to see here, so we head on back to town to heal and take our Grind to the mountains of Route P.

At long last WE CAN AFFORD THE SAFARI ZONE! There’s a lot to see around here, but most importantly, we find a fat man in a Rest House who tells Hannah that once she gets the Turzoro City Badge, he’ll give her a reward. Oooh reward! All the more motivation to kick Wattson’s butt now!

But not before he gives us a THROUGH butt kicking himself as Hannah decides she’s sick of training and plows her way bullheaded against him AT LEAST 8 times in a row. She takes a breather outside the Pokemon Center when she gets a call from Lao, the Ninja Boy from Dark Cave! In actuality he called to vent to her about getting bested by a Wingull, though I’m sure she was glad to do some venting of her own. After a few more attempts at Wattson (gaining the team quite a few levels actually) I wonder if she was actually trying to learn from him or still failing to destroy him. Either way, she did come close a few times and headed for the fields to the north of town for the big finish!

Miss Tea evolved into Linoone and learned Mud Sport! Ninat evolved into Gabite! 8O

I have lost track, but I believe we are up to ROUND 18 against Wattson, but this time we’re back to playing for keeps and not points. Putting Ninat in front, the match is on as our dragon OBLITERATES EVERYTHING WITH DRAGON RAGE! Oh, except Lanturn cause we ran out. XD But even then, it was the slow death of Ninat using Sand Tomb and Sand Attack while Wattson could do nothing but keep throwing potions at Lanturn to stall us out. And failing. The old man isn’t mad though and is actually pleasantly surprised as he bursts into laughter at just… SO MUCH HOW??? How did it take us this long to do that? How did he mess up so badly to get SWEPT after how good he’d been doing? At the very least, seeing Hannah’s tenacity and determination in finally besting him at his own game. We won the Dynamo Badge! \ O / We can now use Strength outside of battle! And we got TM34 Shock Wave! And Wattson’s number!~ Vohiyo …. Wait D8

Wattson says he swells with optimism to see a young trainer like Hannah as there’s hope for the future in these kids. Good luck, little one, it’s time to head north! Erm, after we go claim our prize from the Safari Zone that is. PAY UP, FAT MAN! WHAT IS IT~? It’s HM04 STRENGTH! \o/ We can now get through SEVERAL of the passages we’ve seen before including Dark Cave and Mt. Fullmoon! But since we’re here, let’s get to Badger Hunting!

Back in town we run into a woman who claims to be a master of making PokeBlocks and asks if Hannah would like to learn. Hannah just waved her off that she don’t really need any lessons. The woman warns her she shouldn’t try to do everything on her own though before sending us on our way.

We head out for Route K and slip into the caves that bear no name. It is right here at the entrance that perhaps Hannah was struck by a strange curiosity or maybe it just happened. Either way, she was told how the Dynamo Badge made her Pokemon faster, but what about her? After slipping through the cave entrance, she FOR SOME REASON ended up scaling the walls and walking the ceiling D8

Getting back to scaling the mountain path normally, Hannah makes her way through the pouring rain to come across the quaint little town of Habutest! Habutest Town may be small, but it’s got a lovely little outdoor Marketplace she had to look but not touch due to being flat broke. On the upside, one of the merchants tells her about how many of the folks around here love ~Secret Power~ and if she can prove she’s found out what that means, he’ll make a deal with her. … Intriguing. Definitely keep that in mind.

Healing up at the Pokemon Center, Hannah continues to explore when she comes across an old sailor who calls himself Mr. April. Mr. April is having a very big problem since it seems a great heap of debris has ended up in front of his house. He’s too old to be dealing with this, but perhaps if Hannah could use Strength AND Rock Smash she could clear it out? Certainly! It’s show time for Abner and Miss Tea as we display their destructive power and get to work! Mr. April is so stoked about her helping him, he wants to reward her! … But how? He doesn’t really have much to offer, but he does have a Lapras that could take her out to a snow covered island. Wouldn’t that be a wonder for her to see? 8D <3 Actually, while she should be careful of the strange old man who doesn’t speak good English, she’s far too curious about this mystical place, so she agrees!

Off we go, to the beach! To the Lapras! Speeding along Route M! Route N! And FINALLY we land on the icy shores of Searound City! He tells her to “find her pleasure at here” and decides to wait with his Pokemon while she goes exploring. See? No worries!

The main hub of Searound City seems to be nice though, paved streets filled with snowmen among the snowfall. She finds one building that seems to have some, uh…. Oh look it’s more people who look like that odd thug she fought for Wally’s PokeDex. She hasn’t checkpointed in town yet, and since her only means to get here was Mr. April, it’d be best not to risk a battle and get stranded. Hannah just as quietly heads back to the streets where she runs into a woman who invites her into her home for warmth and tells her a bit of a secret. That building Hannah just came out of? That’s the entrance to the Underground, a tunnel that connects to the island to Charpos City! Say… didn’t Wally say that’s where he’s originally from? What does Team Aqua have against this kid??? Suspicions and protectiveness rising, Hannah feels something rising up in her again. Envy thanks the woman for the information and heads back out into the snow…

Envy stealthily sneaks into a few other places to see about getting information on the situation as to why the Underground is being closed off by these goons and eventually finds the Pokemon Center. Great! But before going back for those Aqua Grunts just yet, we head to the Gym to perhaps warn the Gym Leader of what’s going on. (Or maybe he just wants to kick Leader’s butt for not doing anything. Or for teh lulls. There’s no telling with this host. XD ) No surprise, the gym happens to be Ice themed, complete with the slick floor, large icy pillars, and a general frosty haze that hangs over the place. What IS surprising though, is the place seems to be surprisingly…. Empty.

Envy makes it through the sliding puzzle though to find a back door to the place that leads into yet another puzzle. Cool gimmick but shouldn’t there be someone guarding the place? Trainers? The Gym Guide? Someone? HELLOO...o…? We make our way deeper into the freezer when we start to find a series of ladders in this increasingly surreal building when suddenly A TRAINER! Envy really has no issue with the girl, but it seems we’ve found the REAL challenge to this place! Just about the time the Gym Leader is in sight ah….oops?

Hannah manages to shake it off though and storms up to Pryce (gee, who saw that coming? kappa ) who says that he doesn’t want to hear WHY she is here. Let their swords Pokemon do the talking! …. Blackout.

Well we learned a few things. 1) You’re a bit of a jerk in this game, aren’t ya, buddy? XD 2) NO FAIR, OLD MAN, WE WEREN’T READY! >O 3) Curious if he knew or had anything to do with the blip we suffered just before meeting him. Let’s try this again!

Making our way back to Pryce, Penguin the Prinplup seems to share in Hannah’s fury as he tears down the first two Pokemon with Metal Claw before being whittled down through team effort. In comes the Shedinja who, despite not getting to show very well in the last gym, goes on to (slowly) wreck the remaining team members with Fury Swipes and Wonder Guarding everything! We won the Icy Badge which lets us use Cut outside of battle! Eat it, old man! >O Pryce admits his luck seems to have run out when faced with such a trainer like Hannah and gives her TM49 Iceberg! With that display of ferocity he says surely she’ll become the Chapion. … Whatever that is.

Does it mean “Ninja Master of Butt Whoop”? Because that is exactly what Hannah is going to continue to do. With Pryce being NO HELP AT ALL, she follows her senses (or Us really) straight to the Oceanic Museum where Team Aqua is everywhere and in need of some pants kicking. Hannah carefully manages to avoid fighting anyone though as she makes her way to the upper level where she finds a woman looking only slightly different from the other Team Aqua members. Shelly musing to herself how after stealing these blueprints to the Submarine Explorer, Team Aqua will be able to reach Kyogre! Hannah may not know what that means, but NINJA SNEAK ATTACK!

Shelly is shocked to have someone come in on her like this and receives help as a pair of Aqua Grunts bursts in on the scene to attack Hannah instead! Miss Tea quickly comes to Hannah’s defense against the first man, but the team struggles to get passed the next! Just when she could get some air, Shelly herself decides to attack and has her Sharpedo rip into Aga leaving only Ninat left! RELEASE. DRAGON. FURY! (Not gonna lie, that actually had me worried) Shelly is again in shock to find herself defeated and Hannah practically dancing with Ninat for his saving them. But celebrations are all too soon as even MORE Team Aqua members show up, this time with a man in all black and a gold chain. Clearly the leader of these vagrants, which he fully admits in introducing himself as Archie, head of Team Aqua. He doesn’t feel like fighting a mere child and explains to her that Team Aqua are sea loving people. She’s clearly not with Team Magma, so why does she want to go picking fights with them? All life needs water, all water returns to the sea. And by working to expand the seas, surely Hannah must see they are part of a noble endeavor! …….. ….. ….. …. … Bah, maybe she’s too young to understand. All the more reason not to fight her. Seriously, fellow Aqua, she’s a CHILD. However, he does warn her that this is no game they’re playing. If she should come after them again, there will be actual consequences. Shelly can argue with him all she wants on the way home about how this girl is a serious threat, and no child to be taken lightly, but for now they all just disappear. Leaving Hannah all the more confused, angry, scared, and determined that whatever it is they’re planning, it can’t be good.

We go to heal up and restock our Poke Balls (and buy the whole team cake or something, that was way too close for comfort) before heading to the Underground to continue onward. After doing a bit of jump exercises on the couches, Hannah gets jumped but Ninja Boy Jaiden who, I assume mistook her for an Aqua due to her all blue outfit and bandana. XD The other trainers of the Underground at least seem friendly in the usual sense of attacking as is custom of two trainers meeting. The Underground is a bit of a maze, but we manage to get through all the trainers in sight, including the ones guarding HM01 Air Cutter and at last enter Charpos Island! 8O … That we can’t actually enter due to the entrance / exit to the Underground being so overgrown, it needs Cut to escape. Dang, Aqua, how long were you barricading the place???

Surely we missed something though, and Hanna heads on back into the Underground to fight more trainers, find more dropped items, and talk to an old man who can’t get enough of the gorgeous weather outside. Hannah could just about slap herself to realize that Air Cutter is the same as Cut in this region. For all her exploring, seems Flora still has a lot to learn about…

Charpos City is a gorgeous, yet tropical island that seems such a far cry from Snowround it’s hard to believe they’re so close together. We head on into the first large gaudy building in sight and discover the Pokemon Fan Club where the Chairman explains to Hannah about the wonders of the Contest scene! Eh, maybe someday, but for now she’s just gonna stock up on Poke Balls and heal. As we get to exploring the rest of the town, Hannah also stumbles across Wally’s house and gets to meet his parents. Wally isn’t home at the moment, but it’s still nice to always meet some of his friends considering, due to his sickly nature, he doesn’t have many. But, his dad says, the boy sure has been doing a lot better since they moved to this beautiful place. We also find the Bike Shop 2 where the questionably mobster the shop owner points out that if Hannah already has the Mach Bike, then he’ll just take that off her hands and give her an Acro Bike. Sound good? Uh… Sure!

We end the day off by aimlessly wandering the place and just taking in the sights. The cliffs looking out to sea, running in the waves, raiding the fridge of EVERY house we enter, and of course playing with the settings on the outdoor PC with the clock and lottery segments. Is all good and calm and relaxing after the LOOOONG day our Host has had. <3

[fandomsfeelsandfanfics]

Party At the Potters/// James Sirius Potter II x Reader

A/N: Update: I’m actually getting a lot of these done and I’m incredibly surprised. I know I keep talking about it and I’m super sorry but I’m just really excited. This one was originally one of my favs so i hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

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     “Hey (Y/N).” You were on your way back to your dorm when you felt someone put their arm around your shoulder. You didn’t even have to look at him to know it was James. 

    “Hello James.”

    “So Halloween’s this weekend and my family’s having this annual Halloween party and I was wondering if you wanted to come.” You looked up into his expectant hazel eyes. 

    “Thanks for inviting me but I was actually thinking about-”

    “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt but let me rephrase that. I kinda really need you to come because my family kinda thinks we’re dating and I’ll look like a huge idiot if you don’t show.” You stopped walking. His arm fell away quickly and you turned towards them. 

    “Sorry James, I must be missing something. Why exactly does your family think we’re dating?” 

    “Okay okay so I kinda told my parents a long time ago that I had a girlfriend and they believed me of course. They never asked for a name but then randomly one day Lily said it was you because I guess she’s seen us hang out a lot and I didn’t know what to say so I just said it was true.” You stared at him in disbelief. You laughed. 

    “You are a huge idiot.” You continued forward and he followed. 

    “(Y/N), please.” You were all too prepared to tell him to piss off when suddenly an idea struck you. 

    “You know what? Why not? I’ll go.” He pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Under one condition.” 

    “You name it, I’ll do it.” 

    “All you’ve got to do is let me decide our costume.” Easy enough, or so James thought. 

    “Done.”

     James stood in the mirror trying to adjust the costume. Every angle he looked at it got worse. There was another bang on the door. 

   “Hurry up James, we haven't got all night,” Teddy yelled from the hall/ 

   “I’m doin my best alright!” 

    James turned his attention back to the mirror. Teddy knocked once more before opening the door. James stood there unable to hide. Teddy stared at him not knowing what to say. James was wearing a bright red leotard with feathers lining the hips and wings on the back. Teddy didn’t quite know how to react. 

    “Um...okay is this just like....is this how you’d like to dress because if it is then I completely-” 

    “This wasn’t my choice Teddy. (Y/N)’s trying to get back at me for lying about dating her.” Teddy burst out laughing. 

    “That’s a relief. Geez man this has got to be some kind of divine retribution. All those years of checking out chick’s arse’s and now yours is on display, this is perfect.” James flipped him off and stepped out of the room. Just as he entered the hallway he heard a knock at the door. He spotted his mom going to answer it. 

   “I’ve got it.” He walked in front of her and her eyes went wide. 

   “James what are you-” He looked back at her. 

   “It’s revenge mom. Not a choice.” He opened the door. You stood on the other side dressed as Dumbledore, beard and all. Even with the beard hiding your mouth he knew you were smiling. 

    “Yeah, I bet you think that’s hilarious.” 

    “Oh I definitely do.” You stepped past him in the living room. 

   “If you wanted to be a couples costume I could’ve been McGonagall. That would’ve been way funnier.” 

   “For you maybe.” You turned towards Ginny. “Hi Mrs. Potter, I’m-” 

   “(Y/N). Sorry I’m just really excited to meet you. James talks about you so often I just have to see what all of the craze is about.” You looked up at him.

    “Oh okay, that’s a stretch. I don’t even talk about her that often-”

    “Sometimes, I wish I could just tape his bloody mouth, not that i don’t love hearing about you but wow.” 

   “That’s enough!” James grabbed your arm and pulled you into the dinning room. You both sat down next to each other at the empty table. The room was silent for a while until you broke the silence. 

    “You talk about me?” James became even redder than he had been in the living room.

    “No!” Everyone else flooded into the dining room sitting around the table. When everyone finally arrived, James stood up. 

    “As you all know this is my....” He cleared his throat. “Girlfriend. (Y/N).” It didn't sound completely unnatural when he said it which surprised you. “Yeah, so I’m really glad she could come and I just really hope we can all have a nice night and you can all be not embarrassing for just one-” Suddenly, there was a arg at the end of the table. 

    You all turned to see Harry with his head lying on the table. Everyone gasped besides James who sighed. “It seems there’s been a murder,” Ginny announced. You looked around the table and then your eyes feel on James’. He gave you a look that read ‘yes this is really happening’. 

    “Mom, I thought we agreed-” 

    “Sorry honey, murderers don’t care about those types of things and as it seems  there is one among us.” Everyone gazed around the table. James sunk further into his chair. 

    “Just don’t embarrass me for one damn night, that’s all I ask,” James mumbled. 

    “As usual there will be four locations where you can look. The attic, where the victim was last seen. The bedroom where the victim has recently slept along with the attached bathroom. The dining room which is where the body was found and last but not least the kitchen, where witnesses spotted a suspect.” You smiled realizing just what was going on.

    “You are to determine three things. 1. The murder. 2. The motive. 3. The cause of death/weapon. That’s all. You have one hour to investigate. Your hour starts now.”

    James leaned against the wall, watching you look for clues. You crouched down on the ground with your flashlight looking for any type of clue. 

    “I’m sorry about all this. I begged my mom not to do this but she gets really into the whole Halloween thing. I know it’s lame.” You got back up and walked over to him. 

    “Please, this is a thousand times better than anything I’ve ever done for Halloween. It’s so much fun. However, it could possibly be more fun if you actually helped.” He sighed and turned his flashlight on. 

    “This is ridiculous.”

    “Be quiet and keep looking.” You moved on from where you were to one of the corners in the room. It was empty but as you shined your flashlight on it you thought you saw some odd sort of glimmer. You reached into the corner and felt your hands wrap around some soft material. It was an invisibility cloak. 

    “James look.” You held the cloak up to him. 

    “What the hell? That’s mine.” Your hand lowered to your side. 

     “James...was it you?” 

    “No! I barely want to partake in this at all, trust me I’m not that engaged in this thing.” He grabbed it. 

    “Then who took it.” He raised it up to eye level. 

    “Someone who had the key to my trunk.” He threw it back into the corner. “I didn’t think anyone knew where I kept the key.” 

     “This means whoever killed your dad was watching him.” James looked up at you. One clue down. 

     Once the bedroom was finally empty you and James entered. He looked through the bedroom while you headed to the bathroom. You looked in the medicine cabinet and then under the sink. Nothing looked out of place. You looked again and then once more but there was nothing. 

    James stood in the doorway. “I’ve got nothing.” 

    “Me neither.” You stood up in defeat. “Maybe this was just something to throw us off.” James didn’t look satisfied with that. 

    “That doesn’t sound like mom.” You left the bathroom to let James look at it. Maybe he could find something that you couldn’t see. You return to the bedroom. You had never been in there but nothing looked to strange. You peered under the bed. It was completely empty. 

    You got back up and accidentally hit your head on the bedside table. “Shit,” you winced. You rubbed the top of your head, closing your eyes from the pain. You felt a gentle hand on top of yours. 

    “Are you alright?” James’ eyes were full of worry. 

    “Yeah, yeah. I just bumped into this.” You looked over at it. “What’s this anyways?” 

    “Just the nightstand. It’s always locked so-” Your eyes panned down. The very last drawer was open just a smidge. It wouldn’t have even been noticeable if you hadn’t been searching. 

    “What about this one?” You pulled it open and James leaned in. 

    “That’s weird.” The bottom drawer was full of books. High level magic books that you had never seen before. James pulled out one of them. 

    “Oh man! I bet they wouldn’t even allow this stuff in stuff in the forbidden section in the library.” 

    “Focus.” You picked up an all black one that felt like dragon skin. It was clearly a Dark Arts book. You flipped through it. You landed on a section where there were a few pages missing. 

    “Bingo.” 

    “There’s some missing in this one too.” You looked over at him. 

    “I think we’ve found our cause of death.” 

     You picked up the autopsy report. “ ‘Nothing of note physically wrong.’ Just like we thought, that sounds like magic.” The “body” had wasn’t there anymore. All that was left was the cup he was drinking out of and the autopsy report. 

     “So we’ll go with cause of death: dark arts spell .” You nodded. “We’ve still got suspect and motive to figure out.” You sat the report back down. 

    “Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to that yet.” 

    “We’ve still got another room, it’ll be fine.”

    “Mhmm. I think we’ve got a fairly good shot at getting this right.” You looked down at the report one more time. You felt James’ eyes on you and slowly met his gaze. “It’s not polite to stare, Potter.” He laughed quietly. 

    “Sorry, I was just thinking...thanks for coming. I know I shouldn’t have told them we were dating but I’m glad you decided to come.” You stepped towards him and tugged at his feathers. 

    “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

    “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. Seriously though, I’ve had a great time tonight and I hope you have as well.” You suddenly became very aware of how close you were. You were so close to him that every time one of you took a breath in you almost touched. 

    “I’m having a great time.” And it would only get better. James moved closer and your lips connected. Or at least they almost did. James pulled back as soon as he came into contact with your fake beard. He laughed. 

    “Sorry.” James pulled the beard down to so that it wasn’t covering your lips. 

    “Much better.” The kitchen door flew open and Albus took a step out. You scrambled away from each other. 

    “Uh...” He looked between the two of you. “I’m done in there, it’s all yours.” 

    “Thanks, Al.” James ran his hand through his hair nervously. Albus left the room without another word. As soon as you entered the kitchen James made a b-line for the pantry. 

    “Where are you going?” He scavenged through the pantry. 

    “The book I had with the pages taken out was a potions book so I figured this must have something to do with potions of some sort. Yes! Look at this.” You joined him, trying to see what he was looking for. 

    “Dad was poisoned,” James exclaimed.

    You shook your head. “All of the ingredient that could be used to make a good poison are still here.” He reached forward and picked up and empty jar. 

    “Yeah but all of the bezoar is gone. Whoever did it made sure that there could be no cure antidote. My dad always makes sure to keep a bezoar around, always. This is no coincidence.” James picked you up and spun you around. “We’ve done it.” He sat you back down and gazed into your eyes. 

    You knew he was going to kiss you again or you hoped he would. Suddenly, Ginny’s voice rang throughout the room. “Your hour is up. Go back to your rooms, you have ten minutes to come up with a final result.” 

    You followed James back to his room and paced next to his bed while he closed the door. You took off your hat. “It had to be someone who had access to your trunk. You said it was locked, who knew where the key was besides you?” He sat down on his bed.

    “I didn’t think anyone did. I keep it secret cause I don’t want anyone going through my stuff. Albus is so quiet and observant, he picks up on things so it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure it out. It wouldn’t be that hard for Lily either, she’s so small and sneaky you barely notice she’s there half the time.” You thought about all of that for a moment. It didn’t really get you anywhere. 

    “The book was also kept in a locked space so the same thing applies for finding the key to that. There were dark arts books in there which is pretty straight forward. We still haven’t got motive.” 

    “We’ve barely got anything. All we have is some good guesses.” He was right. This whole thing was much more frustrating than you had originally thought. You had found all of the clues yet each and every one of them led to a dead end. 

    “Let’s just go with Albus. He’s clever and has a better understanding of these types of things so it wouldn’t have been that hard for him to have done it.” 

   “Motive?” 

   “I haven’t got one.” You sat down next to him, putting your head in your hands. 

   “We really did good though.” James placed his hand gently on your knee. There was a long moment where silence filled the room. “Hey, is it weird how incredibly hot I find you even in a beard?” You burst out laughing. 

    “Seriously, I may have some sort of issue.” 

    “You’re ridiculous.” He leaned closer to you casually. 

    “We’ve still got a few minutes in here alone. We could...” He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air. He leaned in even more. Just as he was about to close the gap between you, you stood up.

    “Or we could get down to the dining room.” He fake pouted. You held your hand out to him and he took it. You led him out of the room and into the dining room. 

    It seemed like everyone else had the same idea because they were all already there. They all looked confident in themselves. Their gaze drifted around the room from person to person, accusingly. 

    Ginny smiled. “I was just about to call you two down. Now that everyone is here, are you guys ready to get started? I will admit, this one was a bit harder.” 

    “Mom! Can I go first,” Lily asked. Ginny nodded at her. She got to her feet. “Alright so at first I didn’t know at all but now I think I do. It was James. I found his cloak that dad gave him and he’s always trying to sneak books like that out of the forbidden section so it had to have been him.” 

    “How’d he do it?” 

    “Some spell, I dunno.” 

    “Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Alright. Thanks dear. Albus, you next.” Albus stood up. 

    “It was you mom. You’re the one who knows where everything is around here. It’s your house after all. You probably found the key too get into James’ case and already knew where the key to the beside table was. You must’ve cast some kind of very subtle spell but I don’t know which. The motive is something I haven’t figured out.” 

    “Very nice. Teddy?” Teddy cleared his throat. 

    “It was obviously Albus. You’re always sneaking around the house, who knows what kind of keys you’ve found. He did it because he was tired of his father putting James before him, which is evident in him stealing the cloak. I don’t know how he did it though.” Ginny nodded along. Finally, she gazed over at the two of you. 

    “Your turn.” As everyone talked you thought more about what you had found. Your mind was leaning in a slightly different direction. You didn’t know if it was right but maybe....

    You both stood up. You looked at each other nervously. James was the first to speak. “We think it was A-”

    “It was Teddy,” you interrupted. James looked at you in confusion. “It all makes sense now. Okay so we first thought it was Albus because he’s observant and smart he probably could’ve found the keys right? But that’s a lot of effort and a lot of chance luck. Teddy, however wouldn’t have needed a key. He’s 17 he could’ve just cast Alohomora and both would’ve unlocked.” James looked very impressed. 

    “He killed him with a poison which we knew because despite all of the ingredients needed to make one being in tact all of the bezoar had come up missing. So Teddy was clearly trying to make sure that he couldn’t be saved. Now the motive...we don’t know.” 

    “Actually, I think I might,” James chimed in. You looked at him in surprise. “It’s something I’ve been working out in my head. Dad doesn’t keep Dark Arts books in the house, he doesn’t want us anywhere near them, he keeps them all in his office. So those books couldn’t have been his. And why rip pages out of the book of someone your going to murder that has information about why you’re going to do it? They’d notice. There are better ways to go about it unless you don’t have much time and it wasn’t your book anyways. I think Dad took away Teddy’s dark arts books away and he wasn’t too happy about it.” 

    You both sat down. You tried to look like you had expected it to go that well but that wasn’t even close to the truth. You were so excited about how you had worked together and you thought you had cracked the case. You had your eyes fixed on Ginny ready to hear the results. 

    “One of you was right.” She gazed around the table. “And it was...James and (Y/N).” James grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. 

    “We did it,” he shouted. You hugged hm back with as much force. 

    “We did.” You closed your eyes savoring the hug. 

BONUS:

   Teddy and you were the last one left downstairs. “Good job, figuring it out. It was super hard.” 

    “Well, I had James with me and he was a huge help.” Teddy smiled at you kindly. 

    “I’m glad you made it. I know James was super excited to have you here tonight. You probably already know but he’s like super into you.” You were a bit surprised by this but didn’t let it show. 

    “I don’t know about that. James is James ya know. I only came cause I didn’t want him to get caught in his stupid lie.” Teddy’s eyebrow went up. 

    “What lie?” 

    “You know, he told all of you guys he was dating me.” Teddy looked confused. “He did tell you guys that right?” 

    “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about but have a great night.” He disappeared up the stairs and James almost immediately took his place. 

    “Here’s your hat, I couldn’t find it for the life of me.” You took it out of his hands. He slipped his hands in his pockets. “So...”

    “You didn’t tell them we were dating.” He looked confused. 

    “What?” 

    “You said you told your family we were dating but that’s not trie at all. You lied. I think you lied just to get me here.” His face got red. 

    “I don’t...I don’t know what you mean.” You pulled your fake beard down and in one quick movement, kissed him. 

    “Just for the record I would’ve came anyways.” He gave you a goofy smile. He leaned in to kiss you again but at the last minute you turned your head so he kissed you on the cheek. "Goodnight James, and thank you for tonight.” 

    “Yeah...um...yeah anytime.” He was clearly flustered. He ran his hand through his hair once again and you could tell he was nervous. You laughed. 

    “Bye James.”

[nvrfrgetu]

Zach Dempsey - A to Z

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): Well, that’s the thing, Zach can get turned on by almost everything, really. Like the way you’re biting your pen while looking at him, scratching his scalp during a small kiss or even just watching you train with the girls or even looking at you and finding you specially sexy that day. But his biggest, ever, turn on is when you’re sucking on his skin, just down his jawline, while gently scratching your fingernails on his nape. The boy loses his shit, a complete silence and embarrassed mess from being with the biggest boner in the middle of the bleachers during gym class or in the cafeteria.

You were still recovering from an ankle problem, acquired during the cheerleaders’ workouts, so that you were restricted in performing physical activities and released from PE class. Today was one of those days where the Coach was letting everyone be lazy, with only four groups taking turns playing volleyball. The rest of the students were either climbing the ropes in some sort of ridiculous competition or waiting their turn while walking around the gym. So it was in the bleachers you stood, calmly waiting for the end of the class, laying on your stomach with your backpack serving as a pillow. You were almost dozing off when someone decided to play in the bleachers, making the wood tremble. You were prepared to send the person to hell when someone leaned over you, soft and warm lips pressing into yours. You opened your eyes, shocked, until you relaxed with the familiar sight of your boyfriend's dark, warm eyes.

- "Zach! You scared me!” - You argued, pushing him lightly. He sent you one of those sweet smiles so characteristic of him in return. Moving to place a kiss on your cheek before sitting on your side.

- "What for? I just gave you a kiss."- He shrugged as he sat on the bleachers.

- "Exactly. Someone kissed me and I have a boyfriend." -  You tried to cast a disapproving look at him, but he had such a cute expression that you ended up smiling at him. His eyes seemed to burn for a second.

- "No one would dare steal a kiss from you. I would fight their asses. "- Zach was a Big Guy, completely capable of actually doing some real damage in a fight, with all those muscles that being an athlete since he was a child had assured him, but the possibility of this happening was laughable in a way that even the way he spoke the words was funny. But you did not say anything, just sent another smile at him as you rose from the stands to sit beside him, standing with one leg on each side of him, and placed your head on his shoulder, giving a small kiss to the warm skin discovered by the sleeveless shirt and then leaning back at his side comfortably, her legs lovingly embracing his body.

- "I'm sure you would, babe. Don’t worry."

But then Zach's body was really hot, in that way that made cling to him in one hug one of the most delicious things and soon your arms came to wrap around his trunk, but giving up when you realized he was too big and you would be uncomfortable, setting by just closing your hands on his shirt. He gave a little laugh at the way you had wrapped around him, turning his face to kiss your forehead. You smiled and looked at him, quickly struck by the urge to kiss him.

- "You're staring at my mouth." - He accused, drawing your foreheads together to force you to look deeply into his eyes. There was a convinced smile on his lips and although the look on Zach's face was carefree and confident, there was a nice blush tingling his cheeks.

- "Am I?" - You breathed, feigning ignorance though your eyes drifted to his delicious lips again. He smiled and you watched his lips part in that delicious smile, a line of perfectly white teeth appearing and suddenly you were thinking of wrong things. You smiled back, and then leaned up to kiss him, and though you had planned a chaste and caressing kiss, somehow your tongue traced his lower lip and you got lost in Zach's mouth when he granted you passage.

You wanted to blame the Gym and its structure or whatever, but it was Zach who had begun to make you hot. Your hands automatically clenched into fists on his shirt, and the hand in front of his body began to lightly trace his abs over his shirt, innocently but appreciatively.

Someone whistled from the court and you also heard some giggles approaching. You broke the kiss, annoyed, watching Justin on the edge of the court, hands around his mouth in encouraging shouts to Zach, while Jessica and Sherri were approaching. By your side, you felt Zach tightening up and quickly arranging something that you did not pay attention because you were busy flipping your friends. The Coach shouted at Justin and sent him back to the court and he rolled his eyes before obeying.

- "You seem to be healing well, Y/N." - Jessica mocked, Sherri agreeing with her, while both sat on the bench below where you and Zach were, Sherri patting Zach’s back in approval.

- "I'm glad to see that Zach is taking good care of you."

- "He was, and then you decided to interrupt my treatment." - You joked, frowning at them. Jessica just shrugged and Sherri laughed.

- "You were surpassing the acceptable level of PDA in physical education. Soon I and Justin would had to make out or you would steal our Liberty High It Couple title.”

- "All yours." - You spoke and raised your hands in mock surrender, but rolled your eyes to show that you did not give a shit about it. Beside you, Zach shifted, moving away from you.

- "Zach, are you ok?"

- "S-sure. I... I need to go, hm, my group is next." – He was fidgeting, but you didn’t read much into it.

- "Oh, okay, babe. See you at lunch."

- "Y-yeah." – He barely answered it while getting up. As Zach got up and practically jumped the rest of the stands, you and your friends looked at each other.

- "Is it me or was he weird?" - Jessica and Sherri just shrugged, and started talking about the adaptations in the new routine to keep you from getting hurt again in any of the jumps.

The day passed quietly and you did not have any more classes with your boyfriend, so you really only saw him when you entered the Cafeteria. It even had been funny, because even in the hallways you had not found him. Your friends only commented that they had seen him rushing to the next class. You knew he had biology today at some point, so you  just shrugged thinking he was reviewing. You were probably very lost in your thoughts, because while waiting in line to buy your lunch, Monty thought it necessary to shout your name and wave so you finally looked at their table.

- "Relax Monty, I'm coming." - You said as you approached the table, putting the tray in front of Zach and bending down to give a kiss to his lips. He looked surprised, because his body trembled slightly and he was turning red from nowhere. You smiled at him, nudging his shoulder in teasing as you sat down.

- "Guess, I'm not the only one who's gonna hear that today." - Monty joked, casting a suggestive glance at the two of you as you sat down at the table. You just told him to fuck off and Zach resumed to show his middle finger to him.

As Monty laughed and started talking to Justin, you took the opportunity to discreetly lean on Zach, your nose nudging his arm covered by a sweatshirt to get his attention. He gave you a wary look, but there was a smile on the corner of his lips. You tried to hold back the smile that threatened to burst through your face, but the way Zach looked at you had always warmed you up and wanting to approach him. So you took the opportunity to sneak your hand around his arm and murmur a "come here." He bent down and you stole a small kiss on his lips again. You could keep track of how his blush spread quickly across his beautiful face, only getting worse when Monty started whistling and pointing at them. You sent him to hell again and then put one of your hands in your boyfriend's hair, so as to pull it and hide your face in the curve of his neck.

But then as the teasing died and the boys started to focus on other things, the way you had taken in that position looked wonderfully comfortable, especially with the delicious scent of his flooding your senses and his warm skin so close to your lips... You started stroking it with the tip of your nose. You felt the way he trembled slightly and it only encouraged you to lightly rest your lips on the skin of his neck. Zach literally froze and you let out a giggle before landing three more kisses and then cast a small glance around, checking that no one was paying attention to you and risking a little hickey just below his jawline.

Someone called Zach and you watched as he literally stuttered an answer to whatever the question they asked. A small laugh came and you pulled away from him in a disguise. Luckily, the bell rang. You started to get up and straightened your backpack while everyone began to do the same.

- “Hey, you're coming?” - Sherri asked, already close to the exit.

- “Sure. One moment.”  -You waved as you turned to see where Zach was. But he had not even got off the bench yet. In fact, he was not even looking up, just stared very hard at the table.

– “Sherri, I'll see you at class. Have to talk to Zach.” - Her friend just nodded and continued on. You approached your boyfriend, realizing now how red he was.

- “Hey, babe. Something wrong?”

- "Yes." - He hissed between clenched teeth, casting a nasty glare at you.

- “I did something wrong?”

- “Oh, yes. You know what you did.”

- “I don’t. What's going on Zach?” - You were really surprised. You tried to review the events that had happened during the day to find out what you could have done to make him be like that. Probably foreseeing you were imagining too much, he sighed and reached for your hand. Then he pulled you on his lap and the bulge pressing on your ass made the whole situation a lot clearer.

You waited a few seconds, feeling like a deep blush was spreading across your face, and, at the same time, you had to contain with all your strength the smile that wanted to radiate on your face. Your chest seemed to swell, your skin immediately hot, the mere thought of getting Zach excited so easy made you feel like a goddess.

-“Oh. My. God. Did I...?” - You risked, trying to control the happiness and surprise in your tone.

- “Yes.” - He hissed again, a judgmental look and in equal parts hot and angry. You could not even be embarrassed by how satisfied you were to be able to leave him that way with almost no effort.

- “Oh babe, I'm so sorry.” - You forced yourself to say, a small laugh restrained in your lips. He narrowed his eyes at you, pushing your waist so that you rose from his lap and did not make things worse, which you followed.

- “No, you're not. You're fucking proud of yourself." - He knew her too well not to know that. You let out the laughter you were holding, then bent to murmur close to his lips, an expression that had every intention of provoking him.

- “Ok... I am. Does this make me a bad girl?" - You murmured, your gaze running over his lips before looking him in the eye again.

- “Oh my god, you're not helping.” - He grunted, his tone warm and hard, mingled with clear frustration. You laughed and pulled away from him, beginning to walk backwards toward the door.

- “So... see you after class?” - You said as you walked away, your hand moving your hair in what you believed to be sexy.

- “Oh, you bet your pretty ass you’ll see me after class.” - She winked at him then, adding a more pronounced swag on her hips as she turned his back to him. You almost swore he had grunted again and your smile could tear your cheeks of so satisfied.

[timesorceror]

Fenhanders Week 2017 #6

Saturday, April 8th - Let’s Grow Old Together

What does the end look like? Where did the trio end up? This is a time for some angst and goodbyes. Tissues suggested.

Question of the Day: Did they have/adopt children? If so, what did they leave behind?

The trio spent their early years after Kirkwall in the isolation of the Amaranthine Forest, merely a few days’ ride from either Vigil’s Keep or Amaranthine itself. All were content in that isolation until it was disrupted by news from Varric about the Inquisition and the Wardens’ false Calling, and that was when they left that isolation for the first time.

Surviving Adamant and the Fade had been like going to the Void and back; with Anders and Fenris having to drag Hayden behind them as Stroud remained behind to hold off the Nightmare. But afterwards, seeing all of the devastation wrought by the Venatori and the Wardens still under their control, they could not bear to leave it. Alistair and Rashia elected to head to Wiesshaupt instead to seek answers from their higher ups, and of course Anders and Fenris remained with Hayden, helping the Inquisition where they could.

Fenris mostly helped on missions, though he rarely left without either of his healers. When not out with Fenris, Anders and Hayden tended to patients and refugees still displaced from the explosion at the Conclave, adult and child alike. Sometimes these children had parents, sometimes they did not. 

Hayden’s heart went out to all of the children without, because they knew the pain of losing a parent in their youth. However, it wasn’t until Fenris brought back a pair of nearly infant twins from an excursion to a dragon-ravaged home that Hayden was struck with a desire to do more than keep them warm and healthy until a place could be found for them.

So, after many long discussions and several battles fraught with danger, the trio returned home when Corypheus was defeated… with two small children in tow.

Anders breathed deeply of the still winter air, and then exhaled slowly, watching as his breath misted and danced before him, mesmerizing. His gaze wandered across the line of trees several yards away from the porch where he sat, seemingly fixed on a point in the distance through the gentle evening snowfall. The wooden chair beneath him creaked slightly as he rocked, but the sound was muffled by the great white expanse that surrounded the area.

“Papa?” A voice called from inside the cabin, making him turn to cock his head in the direction of the sound. 

“Yes darling?” He answered, and coughed once, twice. Wetness rattled in his chest, and he sighed, leaning back in the chair. Distant footsteps grew louder until the visage of an elven woman with dark hair and amber eyes came into view, brows pinched in concern. She held two steaming cups in her hands, offering one to him.

“You’ve been out here for awhile,” she said as he gingerly took one of the cups, and relishing the taste of warm liquid chocolate on his tongue. He hummed noncommittally. “Yes, I know,” he replied in a chiding tone, smirking softly. “Can’t an old man enjoy the peace and quiet of a winter’s evening once in awhile?” He flashed her a slight grin, but was interrupted when a series of small coughs escaped him, threatening to develop into a full fit.

“We’d let you be,” said a man’s voice from the doorway, equal parts teasing and stern, “if not for you being so quiet. Your cough’s getting worse, and when we hadn’t heard anything from you in awhile we feared that you’d just… well.” The man was elven, like the woman, and it was obvious they were related. His hair was dark, like hers, but his eyes were a bright jewel green instead of amber.

Anders smiled sadly at the man. “I’m sorry I can’t put your fears to rest, son. An illness like this can’t be cured with magic or potions, and I’m… not as young as I used to be.” 

“We know, papa,” said the woman as she reached out to take his free hand into her own from her place in one of the other two rocking chairs. “People don’t live forever. We’re not meant to. I just… I want to be there for you.” There were tears swimming in the woman’s eyes, and Anders set his drink aside to reach up and brush a few from here cheeks.

“You are here for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I’m grateful, I am. Both of you came all this way to be with your old man, and you didn’t have to.”

“Course we did,” the man grunted. “I mean, we know you’re never really alone, but with Hayden gone and Father having passed last Harvestmere… Liesel and I figured someone should be here, to keep you comfortable at the very least.”

Liesel snorted. “Faron’s being too humble, as usual. He said to me while we were on our way here actually, “Sister, it’s more than a duty to care for a parent in their last days; it’s an honor.” I mean, really. He spends too much time with Uncle Varric, I think.”

Anders chuckled. “Varric’s still kicking? Huh. What’s he got you doing, that he’s keeping you around for so long, Faron?”

“Dictating a memoir,” Faron grumbled. “The pain in his joints’d made it hard for him to write for years, so I’ve been transcribing everything for him.” He shrugged. “He wasn’t nearly so poetic when we were working on the last installment of Hard in Hightown. I think that thinking about the past has made him wistful. He even said he might tell me the story of Bianca if I ask him at the right time.”

“Bianca? As in the crossbow?”

“Nah, the woman. I mean, I’m pretty sure the crossbow’s involved, but he meant the woman. I’m sure of it.”

“I still say he’s gonna leave you hanging,” Liesel teased. Faron huffed, shurgging as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Never said he wouldn’t. Anyway, his way of speaking gets stuck in my head sometimes and I say stuff weird.” Liesel grinned.

“You meant what you said though. I could tell.”

Anders smiled, picking up his cup and sipping it as he watched his adult children bicker with one another like they were small again. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the memories of raising them with Hayden and Fenris in this very cabin. He was glad to have them here with him during what could potentially be his last days. Hayden had been sick like this a few times before they’d eventually passed. Losing Hayden had hurt deeply, but at least he’d still had Fenris for several more years after that.

This past year on his own had been harder still, and he’d leaned heavily on Justice to keep him motivated to get out of bed each morning. He’d been so caught up in grief that he hadn’t noticed the onset of illness until nearly too late. He couldn’t bear to leave the home he’d built with his lovers, so he’d written to their children in Kirkwall instead, asking them to come if they could spare the time away from their own spouses and children to keep him company.

“Alright you two,” he chided them gently. “You know your father absolutely detested when you bickered without purpose. Why don’t you tell me how my grandchildren are doing? Liesel, isn’t your eldest getting married soon?”

“She is,” Liesel grumbled. “I feel so old, papa.” 

Anders chuffed. “But she’s marrying a good man, yes? Or lady?”

Liesel nodded, her features softening. “A fine young man. I was surprised to learn he has an apprenticeship with the Hightown surgeon, with him being elven like us. I hadn’t thought it possible.” 

“Varric’s done some good in that city, it seems,” Anders sighed, contentedly. “I mean, I doubt he’s erased elven prejudice entirely, but I know things are better there now, for a lot of people. Having all of those terrible Tevinter ruins cleansed of blood magic traces seemed to help a lot too, as I recall.”

“The Circle’s not in the Gallows anymore either,” Faron added. “And it’s not called a Circle. My two boys go there, and they tell me that their classes are quite pleasant. Just last month, Tamaris was showing me this thing he could do with these things he called fairy lights. It looked like the night sky was plastered all around us, without needing to go outside.”

“I used to do that, when I was young,” Anders remembered with fondness. “My first love, Karl, once charmed some to appear in the shapes of red carnations and crystal grace on my bed when I threw back the covers. I used to make some for your father when he would wake in the dark from his nightmares. They helped ground him.” 

Anders chucked, and added, “Hayden liked them too, but they were more like Karl. They’d take your father and I out into the forest during autumn in evenings and we’d watch a magic light show while sharing a picnic by the water.”

“I remember those,” Faron mumbled, lost in thought. Liesel sighed contentedly. “I do too. They were lovely. I had no idea they were Hayden’s way of being romantic.” Anders nodded, laughing. “Well, with small children in the house, the three of us had to get creative with how we flirted. There was a lot of suggestive eyebrows waggling and slightly not so innocent dancing and hugging that went on when you were young.”

“And then it all went out the window that one time I walked in on you and Father having sex,” Faron snorted, and Liesel burst in a fit of giggles. “Hayden was mortified, but they set you and I down while Father and Papa were… finishing up, and we had the sex talk right then and there.” 

A few more snickers escaped her as she held a hand to her mouth and wrapped the other around her side, clutching at her clothes while she tried to laugh silently.

Anders was laughing too, but he had to be careful not to laugh too hard in case he started to descend into a coughing fit instead. Everything ached these days, but the laughter his children brought him made him feel lighter than he had in months, and the ache was easier to ignore.

Eventually the twins coaxed him to come back inside to sit by the fire, and later that evening the three of them shared a hearty meal of steaming noodle broth with fresh vegetables and chunks of butter soft chicken. Shortly before Anders retired for bed, Liesel dug around in her packs, presenting him something wrapped in cheap brown parchment and tied with string.

“I’d almost forgotten this,” she muttered as he began meticulously opening the package. “We found this for you in the estate library before we left–Varric told Faron that it was one of your favorite trashy romance novels and that it was quite important to you.”

Anders gasped when he finished opening the package, pulling the parchment away to find a copy of Fang of the Dragonlord sitting inside. This was the same one that Hayden and Fenris had purchased for him when they’d still lived in Kirkwall, and several of the pages had been dog-eared in honor of the parts that had been Karl’s favorites from the copy he’d kept in the Circle.

“Thank you for being so thoughtful, dear,” he murmured as he pulled Liesel close and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “This will be such lovely bedtime reading, for certain.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be,” Faron snickered, and Anders just fixed his son with a dead-eyed stare. 

“Boy, I’m a widower well into my twilight years. I am more interested in keeping my plants pruned and my cat fed than getting it up. Besides, the story in this one’s actually good.” 

“Compared to Swords and Shields?”

“Anything’s better than that. The position he describes in the second installment on page 69 is physically impossible, unless you’re a contortionist, and even then it still sounds vastly uncomfortable.” Faron snorted. “True. Still, you know, it couldn’t hurt. Don’t orgasms help… something when you’re sick?”

“That’s headaches, son,” Anders chortled, “and that doesn’t always work.” 

“Whatever. Go get some rest, ok? And call for us, if… if you need us.”

“I will. I love you.” “We love you too, Papa.”

Anders leaned over and pressed a kiss to Faron’s forehead and slowly made his way to the bedroom he’d once shared with Hayden and Fenris. 

It no longer smelled like them, but the room itself was full of several books and trinkets that they’d collected, gifts from their children and their friends. A drawer in the desk by the window was ajar, and inside it Anders knew was a box full of letters from their friends and each other, detailing much of their lives together from their time in Kirkwall onward. Some of Hayden’s old robes still hung in the closet, and in the dresser, tucked behind a sachet of elfroot and rosemary were a few pairs of worn black leggings. 

Anders lit a candle and set it on one of the nightstands, laying the book on the bed. He moved to dress for sleep, but was struck with the sudden desire to wear one of the silk robes Hayden had gifted him, along with a pair of woolen socks that Fenris had knitted for him a long, long time ago.

He paused in front of the small mirror that had been hung on a nearby wall, reaching back to pull out his hair tie. His hair had gone full white in the last year, and a pang of sadness beat deep in his chest at the thought Fenris hadn’t been around to see it.

“We match now,” he whispered, sighing. 

He would’ve laughed, Justice muttered quietly over their shared connection.

Anders chuffed as he brushed his hair and got into bed, skipping straight to the bits that he preferred, instead of the steamy scenes. “He would have, yes. He had teased me about it when we first found those early white strands. I wish… I, I wish…” He sniffed, tears forming in his eyes.

Hush now, Justice soothed. It’ll be alright. 

Anders felt the spirit’s comfort in the core of him, and it helped as he breathed deeply, for once uninhibited by his illness. As his reading came to a close and exhaustion began creeping in, Anders found himself pausing at the last page, unwilling to turn it and close the book.

“Justice, I’m… I’m scared. Are you scared?”

Of what?

“Dying.”

Anders could practically feel the wheels of Justice’s mind turn as he thought, but the spirit’s answer surprised him when it finally came.

Strangely, I am not. In the Fade, there is no life and death. Spirits and demons simply… are. And while I know you hope that your death will return me to that state of existence, I have long hoped that it would not. Should I return as I am now, I would want. I would desire. These are dangerous things for a spirit.

But, in death, in whatever it means to fade from this existence into the next, I would not be a danger. In death, I could keep you company until we are separate beings once more. Our memories combined span more than your lifetime, a life that is well-lived at that. I would be content to retire my existence with you, knowing that good came from our being in this world.

So… no. I am not afraid. But do not feel shame that you are. It is normal, as I understand. Our children understand it. 

Anders felt his breath leave him in a rush as a kind of peace stole over him. 

“Thank you, Justice.”

The response that filled him was not words, per se, but Anders knew it to be a gesture of gratitude nonetheless. He shifted in bed, glancing out the window to see a glimpse of the clear, starry sky. It filled him with nostalgia as he thought on the many nights he’d spent staring at those stars with his lovers, and he wondered if, wherever they were, they missed him as much as he missed them.

After a few more moments, he closed the book and set it aside. He blew out the candle and settled under the covers, feeling the aches and pains from earlier return. Strangely, he welcomed the deep weariness in his bones, one of the signs of that life well lived.

The call of the Fade swelled, and he noted with some amusement that it was different tonight. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

When next he opened them, it was to a familiar voice, saying, “So, mage. We did get to match after all,” while a peal of long forgotten laughter filled the air around them.

A distance away, a shimmering knight smiled, still unafraid as they winked out of existence.