#i can’t seem to decide how i want to draw her apparently

[static-scribblez]

Wanted to experiment with a softer artstyle :)

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Prologue

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Summary: Saiki gives everyone the rundown on his "bothers," including (L/N) (Y/N).

Mouse Note: Welcome to A Not-So-Disastrous Romance! I am very excited to share this story with everyone, even if this fandom is very old. Truth be told, I wrote 11 chapters like three years ago, so the first few chapters don't have the level of writing I have now, but I ended up finishing this story and wanted to share it. For another point, I know that people view Saiki as asexual and sometimes aromantic, but I feel an affinity for him being asexual but demi-romantic, so I play it slow-burn. That being said, terrible beginning writing aside, I really hope everyone enjoys. Let me know what you think, commenting helps me keep writing, and I love interacting with people! Welcome to the story!

Quick Key: "Hello" -Saiki speaking telepathically Hello -Saiki thinking "Hello" -regular people talking out loud Hello -regular people thinking

            Saiki teleported to the roof to avoid Teruhashi and Nendou. One was troublesome enough. Two was insupportable.

            “Where’s Saiki? Huh? What’s going?” wondered Teruhashi, confused.

            I teleported without thinking. Saiki looked down at the crowd below him. People around me didn’t seem to notice me, but naturally, Teruhashi thinks something is strange. Well, Teruhashi, just think I was an illusion and forget about it.

            “Nendou!” remarked the pretty blue-haired girl upon seeing him.

            “Oh, wow, Teruhashi!” squeaked Nendou, blushing.

            “Have you seen Saiki?” asked Teruhashi.

            “What? My pal? No, I haven’t.” Nendou was too startled to think.

            N-no way…did he disappear? thought Teruhashi, Is it possible that I was the one seeing an illusion? She recalled what she had assumed of Saiki: “You’re so much in love with me that you see illusions of me, huh?” A light blush spread across her face. Don’t tell me I’m…No! I can’t be… She clutched her heart. Oh, no…What’re these feelings? Is it possible…that I fell in love…with Saiki?

            Oh, wow, thought Saiki as he deadpanned. This is not how he wanted things to go.

            He sighed and teleported to a nearby, empty alleyway. Sighing, he decided to go for a coffee jelly. With the new problem he had just acquired, Saiki decided he might as well enjoy a little bit of peace. He walked quickly in the opposite direction of Nendou and Teruhashi, even if it took him on a long route to Café Mami. For once in his life, he was lucky and didn’t bump into anyone on the way there. His luck ran out, however, as soon as he entered.

            “Saiki!” called a teenager with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. They were grinning and waving.

            He couldn’t avoid them now; it would draw attention to him for being rude. He sighed and sat down across from them.

            This is (Y/N) (L/N). They’re another troublesome person who complicates my life. They even call me their friend and insist I use their first name. The worst part is I can’t read their mind. They aren’t dumb like Nendou, though. Do you see those earrings?

            (Y/N) had simple, metallic studs in their ears.

            They’re made of germanium, which apparently keeps me from seeing through them with my X-ray vision or hearing their thoughts with my telepathy.

            He had only realized this after he saw them during school and on the weekends and the only thing that was the same between the outfits was their earrings. Saiki wished he could get his hands on some germanium. Hearing everybody’s thoughts was tiring. That being said, (Y/N) being unreadable was…disconcerting.

            “Nice to see you, Saiki. Are you here for your usual coffee jelly?” asked (Y/N) cheerfully.

            The pink-haired psychic nodded. Yare yare…Why do I hang out with you?

            “Oh!” They brightened. “I guess since you’re kind of like my guest right now, I should treat you!”

            Saiki’s eyes widened in excitement. Ah, I remember now. (Y/N) treated him to, well, treats. That made them more tolerable than other people.

            Seeing his expression, (Y/N) laughed. They knew what he was excited for. “You’re more excited to see the coffee jelly than to see your friend.” They didn’t mind, though. They knew Saiki wasn’t one for being open or friendly, but they’d spent enough time with him to know he’d just leave if he really didn’t like him.

            He wanted to say that they weren’t friends, but even he had to admit, he thought they were pretty tolerable compared to most of the people who crowded around him. Sure, their bright optimism was sometimes exhausting to Saiki, but for the most part, they were pretty low-maintenance and understood he was an extreme introvert and liked time to himself. Plus, although they were energetic at times, but they understood when things were too much for Saiki. And, to be completely honest, he didn’t mind getting to be around someone he couldn’t hear the thoughts of. He could act like a relatively normal person.

            Saiki would never say all that, though. No way. No, the only thing he’d say was, “Coffee jelly is really good.”

            “Can’t argue with that,” admitted (Y/N).

            Their server, who coincidentally was Mera (probably trying to make money as usual), approached their table. She took their orders and headed to the kitchen to alert the chefs.

            “You look more annoyed than usual, what happened?” asked (Y/N).

            Saiki sighed. They unfortunately pay attention to me and can read parts of my emotions. It’s weird. Maybe they’re an empath. “I ran into Teruhashi.”

            (Y/N) laughed. “The only guy immune to her charms.”

            “She brings too much attention.”

            “You’re friends with Nendou and Kaidou. A bit of attention is inevitable,” teased (Y/N), leaning on their hand and grinning.

            “They’re not my friends.”

            “Uhuh, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” chirped (Y/N).

            Mera brought their orders. Luckily, she hadn’t stolen a bite from either of the coffee jellies.

            “Mmmm,” hummed (Y/N) and Saiki contentedly at the taste.

            Peaceful relaxation with (Y/N). Just the way I like it. Saiki sighed happily.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

[waterhousse]

That Funny Feeling

Pairing: bestfriend!ellie williams x reader

Summary: you slowly start to realize you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

• • • •

“are you done?” you groaned, tired. the girl in front of you gazed up at you, eyes wide and eyewbrows up.

“does it look like i’m done?” ellie gestured at herself. you almost laugh at how sassy she looked.

“i’ve been posing for an eternity.”

“it’s been like ten minutes!”

“well, i can’t feel my ass anymore.”

“i’m sure it’s still there,” she said without even looking at you.

after a few moments of silence, you spoke up again, “you’re gonna have to pay me for this.”

ellie looked up from her sketchbook, completely offended. “is my art not enough payment?”

“i can’t buy shit with your art,” you deadpanned.

you had been so quick with your reply that an inevitable chuckle escaped your friend’s lips. “fuck you,” she laughed and you found yourself wanting to come up with an infinite amount of jokes just to hear that sound again. “hold still or i’m gonna have to start over.”

your eyes stayed on her as she went back to her job, unable to look anywhere else. you had always enjoyed watching her draw, founding it soothing. it also allowed you to study her and notice quirks only you could know about; the way she slightly frowned during the whole process due to the concentration and the countless huffs she let out, especially when she had to restart after a mistake. your favorite one, though, was when she sung. ellie’s voice was sweet, you had told her that many times, so you loved being able to hear it. she didn’t even notice she did it, the melodies just came out without warning.

“aaand, done.”

you jumped out of the big rock you had been sitting on for the past fifteen minutes and ran to her side, trying to catch a glimpse of her drawing, but she closed the sketchbook on your nose.

“hey, let me see.”

“it’s not ready yet,” she started gathering her supplies. you rolled your eyes at her. “stop that,” she muttered.

“what— i haven’t even said anything!”

“i know you rolled your eyes at me,” ellie said as she looked for something inside her backpack. you scoffed, but it actually warmed your heart how well she knew you. “c’mon, let’s go to my place. it’s getting late.”

you were currently behind the town’s barn, ellie had chosen that spot because, apparently, the moonlight hit your face just right. it was cold as hell that night, but being the supportive friend that you were, you decided to respect ellie’s struck of inspiration.

“i’ll show you the drawing when it’s finished, by the way,” she spoke up once you caught up with her.

“kay, well, finish it quick or else i won’t pose for you anymore.”

“fine, i’ll ask stella.”

you dramatically gasped at the mention of her. stella was relatively new in Jackson and the only person in the world you truly despised.

“don’t even joke about that.”

the fact that you hated someone that much was hilarious to her. it didn’t match your personality at all. you were the calmest, sweetest person she had ever met. besides, no one really knew why you hated her so much. even you, which was ridiculous. for some reason, everything that girl did or said annoyed you. you couldn’t stand her, feeling there was something off about her, but couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” she placed an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her. you tried to ignore how fast your heartbeat had gotten. that seemed to be happening a lot lately around her. “but hey, you gotta admit she’s not that bad.”

your heart dropped, “you’ve talked to her?”

“what? no. i just think she’s hot.”

you crossed your arms as you hummed in response, suddenly feeling very sick. there was a sharp pang in the pit of your stomach, so you spent the entire walk quiet, only answering to ellie’s babbling with monosyllables. your friend had noticed, so once you arrived at her place she grabbed you by the arm, making you turn around.

“hey, you, uh, you okay? i was kidding about stella. she’s not— i’m not interested in her, y’know?” ellie was nervous, but you were too busy staring at the hand that was stopping you from walking away and how your skin tingled beneath it.

“it’s fine,” you gave her a small smile, eyes back on her. “but i think i’m about to come up with a fever or something, i feel a little weird.”

ellie stepped closer, letting go of your arm and placing her hand on your forehead. “yeah, i think you’re hot.”

you let out a chuckle, “thanks, i’m glad you’re finally admitting it.”

your friend rolled her eyes before opening the door for you. she stood by the doorframe, waiting for you to go inside, but you hesitated.

“i think it’s best for me to go home—”

“what? no, shut up. i’m gonna head over to joel’s to see if he has some painkillers or something, you stay here,” she said as she softly pushed you inside her house. you opened your mouth as you turned around, ready to protest, but the sound of the door closing stopped you. letting out a sigh, you looked around to finally set your eyes on the couch, where you decided to wait for ellie as you tried to ignore whatever you were feeling.

you swept your gaze over the place, warmth spreading over your heart as you spotted little details that screamed ellie; a bunch of savage starlight comics, her guitar perfectly set next to the window, art supplies, books about astronomy and many, many drawings that were either on the walls or just laying on top of the furniture.

you spotted one of her many sketchbooks laying on the floor by her bed, so you went to pick it up and put it on her nightstand, next to the lamp.

after a while, you heard the sound of jiggling keys followed by ellie’s characteristic cursing. you got up from the couch and went to open the door for her since she was clearly struggling. ellie’s frown disappeared once she laid her eyes on you.

“you okay?” you asked, amused.

“this fucking door, i swear to god—” she mumbled as she stepped inside. “look! joel made you soup. i swear he likes you more than he likes me.”

you chuckled at the last part, “i mean, can you blame him?” you joked. there was no way he liked anyone more than ellie, but that didn’t change the fact that you felt incredibly loved and protected by him, too.

ellie gazed at you, a small smile hiding on her lips, “yeah, i supposed i can’t,” she almost whispered. “c’mon, get into bed,” she ordered.

“jeez, ellie. buy me a drink first, at least,” you said, missing ellie’s flustered state. it only lasted a second, though, because her usual smug smirk was already forming on her lips.

“oh, you wish,” she teased back.

maybe it was what she said, maybe it was the way she said it, but your stomach flipped at her words. it was such an unexpected reaction that it made you froze in your spot, completely startled.

“you’re gonna get in bed or…?” ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, she was holding up the covers for you.

“i can go to my house, you know. i don’t wanna be any trouble—” you said as you sat down on the bed. your friend pointed at your shoes and gestured for you to take them off.

“shut up and just let me take care of you, would you?” ellie carefully placed the soup on the nightstand. she went around the bed and sat on the other side just as you wiggled under the covers. she looked down at you, slightly leaning down, “you’re so stubborn,” she murmured as she passed you the soup.

you frowned, offended, “look who’s talking,” you bickered as you glanced up, but you weren’t prepared to see her so close. your eyes met hers, forcing you to avert your gaze elsewhere. you felt her stare still on you, making you malfunction. maybe that was the reason you took a sip of the soup without even considering how hot it would be. ellie laughed shamelessly at you when you burned your tongue. “shit!” you shrieked.

“i’m not saying you deserved it, but…” ellie teased. you would’ve pushed her off the bed if you hadn’t had a flaming hot bowl of soup in your hands, instead, you silently watched her take off her converse. she looked back at you, “move over, i’m cold.”

your breath hitched on your throat at the request, but did as she said. you kept your attention on the bowl of soup that warmed your cold hands, not feeling brave enough to make eye contact with the girl next to you.

“how’s the soup?”

“oh, it’s great. joel’s the best. remind me to thank him tomorrow.” you smiled. “want some?”

“nah, thanks. i don’t like soup.”

“what do you mean you don’t like soup?”

“i just don’t.”

“what’s not to like? it’s yummy.”

“i’m gonna ignore the fact that you just said yummy. and i don’t know! i just don’t like it.”

“weirdo. you’re missing out.”

“okay, soup’s best defender, whatever you say,” she muttered as she closed her eyes. you bit the inside of your cheek as you allowed yourself to scan her face, stopping on the freckles you had complimented so many times.

you looked away, leaving the bowl of soup on the nightstand of your side. the sound made ellie open her eyes.

“you’re gonna sleep?” she asked, her eyes were even more hypnotizing up close.

you nodded, suddenly losing the hability to speak.

“me too,” ellie said before yawning.

“hold on. you’re gonna sleep in jeans, you freak?”

ellie let out an exaggerated groan, “i don’t have the energy to get up and change. it’s too much work.”

“don’t be lazy, c’mon. i’m gonna change, too.” you began to softly push her off the bed, which eventually worked. she walked to her closet and threw you a big white t-shirt, it was the same one you always wore when you slept over.

you averted your gaze from ellie once she started to take her pants off, but it strangely took a lot of strength for you to do so. you shook your head and climbed up to bed, shortly followed by your friend.

“there, happy?”

“very.”

“great. oh, and try not to kick me so fucking much this time or i’m gonna have to fight back,” she muttered with amusement.

you let out a chuckle, “i’ll do my best,” you whispered before everything fell quiet.

you didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since ellie turned off the light, but you were sure it was a while. still as a statue, you layed next to her while staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of how you were feeling. eyes wide, stomach in a knot and heart fluttering as if it were a butterfly.

you realized you had fallen asleep once you opened your eyes and daylight touched almost every corner of the room. you blinked a few times before you fully adjusted to the light, that’s when you noticed ellie’s closeness. she was almost on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck. it wasn’t the first time you had woken up like that with her, but it was the first time you felt different.

“ellie,” you whispered. she whined in response, mumbling something inaudible. you felt your heartbeat race when she nuzzled further into your neck, feeling her lips touch your skin. you squeezed your eyes shut, noticing the unknown feelings from the day before were still present. “hey, ellie. c’mon. it’s almost eight,” you pronounced softly, but ellie ignored you. “i’ve got somewhere to be, y’know.”

“where?” she asked almost immediately.

“i told dina i’d have breakfast with her. i would’ve invited you, but i know you’re not a morning person, so…”

she complained once again, but eventually came out of her hiding. you almost laughed at her expression.

“were you born with that frown?” you placed your fingers in between her eyebrows, making her smoothen the lines.

“shut up,” she laughed softly. “and i could be a morning person, you know.”

“so you’re coming with me?”

“no, i wanna sleep.”

you laughed and got up, ellie’s eyes following you on your way to the bathroom until you closed the door. you stared at yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling embarrassed because of the way your hair looked. ellie had seen you like that a million times before, but that time you actually cared about looking at least presentable for her.

with a sigh, you grabbed the toothbrush you had left once and started brushing your teeth. everything felt strange, but you tried to act as normal as possible.

after washing your face and brushing your hair, you changed into your clothes. you took a deep breath before getting out of the bathroom, trying to calm down the sudden nerves that attacked you, but the sight that welcomed you once you opened the door didn’t help at all; ellie’s bare legs were crossed on top of the bed, she had tied her hair into her usual half-bun and a few strands fell over her face as she drew on her sketchbook.

“i thought you wanted to sleep,” you commented, picking up your jacket from the floor.

“just wanted to add some finishing touches to yesterday’s drawing,” her voice sounded even raspier when she was sleepy. “oh, and i forgot to give you that jacket you asked me for the other day,” she said as she got out of bed and quickly walked to her closet, leaving the sketchbook on top of her nightstand.

“trade?” you held up your jacket, making her grin. she grabbed it from you and gave you hers, which you immediately put on.

“you look great,” ellie complimented you, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

“thank you,” you smiled, your voice sounding incredibly weak. “and thank you for taking care of me. i—” love you, you almost said, but for some reason, those last two words died in your throat. it was weird. even though you always said it to her, that time that phrase seemed to carry a heavier, still unknown, meaning. “i gotta go.”

you turned around to leave, but ellie called your name. you looked back at her and watched her grab her sketchbook from the nightstand. “here,” she handed it to you. just as you were about to open it, she stopped you. “wait! look at it later. i don’t wanna see your disappointment if you don’t like it.”

“don’t be silly, you could never disappoint me,” you sincerely replied. “but okay, i’ll see it when i’m home.”

“have fun with dina. not too much fun, though. you’re not allowed to enjoy life to the fullest if i’m not there.”

“i promise i won’t. see you later,” your eyes met hers one last time before closing the door.

when you arrived at your house, you saw dina already waiting for you. once she spotted you, she started frenetically waving at you. a laugh escaped your lips as you copied her action. yeah, two people with that much energy at 8 am would be a lot for ellie to handle.

“finally! i’ve knocking on your door for the past 10 minutes. i thought you were dead,” was the first thing she said to you as she gave you hug.

“sorry, i slept over at ellie’s.”

dina let out a chuckle, “of course you did.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“you two are always together, i should’ve known. that’s all,” dina shrugged her shoulders. she decided not to comment on the fact that you were wearing ellie’s favorite jacket.

you opened the door and stepped aside, inviting her in. you followed her to the kitchen, where you put water to boil.

“oh, i saw your friend on my way here,” dina commented as she took out two mugs from your hand-painted cupboard. ellie had participated in the process too, drawing different kind of flowers.

“my friend? who?”

“stella,” she amusedly pronounced. you inevitably rolled your eyes, making her laugh. “you still hate her?”

“yes! ellie brought her up yesterday and i almost threw up, i’m not kidding. i don’t even know why i hate her so much, i’ve never even talked to her,” you sat down at the kitchen island while dina stood on the other side of it.

“uh, yes you have,” your friend frowned, confused. “you seriously don’t remember? jesse’s party a few weeks ago, it was the night after she arrived to town.”

you tried your best to remember, but nothing came to your mind. you remembered the party, but not stella. your lost expression must’ve been enough for dina to know that you actually had no idea what she was talking about.

“woah, so you were more fucked up than i thought you were,” she muttered more to herself than to you. “okay, so, jesse invited her because she was new and all that. you had a lot to drink, apparently, so you were already drunk when you approached her. you introduced ourselves and asked her if she had met anyone else besides jesse and us and she said she hadn’t, but that she had seen a girl she was interested in and she was planning on finding her. when she started describing her, we realized she was talking about—”

“ellie. she was talking about ellie,” you replied, eyes wide. the memories came flooding back, making you freeze for a second. “oh my god.”

“you totally snapped at her and told her not to go anywhere near her or you’d scratch her eyes off,” she laughed, but you were completely horrified. “yeah, you get pretty violent when you drink. in my opinion, it’s hilarious.”

“i remember the way she ran away after i said that,” you cover your mouth in disbelief.

the more you processed the forgotten information, the more you worried. that uncontrollable hatred you felt towards stella was because of jealousy over your best friend?

“i mean, i support you. you gotta defend what’s yours,” dina cheered, but her smile disappeared once she noticed your expression. “hey, you okay?”

“i shouldn’t have done that. i had no right—”

“hey, it’s okay. i’m sure ellie wouldn’t have been interested in her anyway.”

“she told me she thinks stella’s hot yesterday,” you muttered, eyes set on your own fidgeting hands.

dina stayed quiet for a bit, but you could still feel her staring at you.

“what’s that?” she pointed to the sketchbook next to you.

“oh, it’s ellie’s. she drew me yesterday and gave it to me so i could see it,” you couldn’t help but smile. you watched dina take it and look at the pages with a blank expression.

“have you seen this?”

“not yet, why? is it good?”

“well, yeah, they’re good. there’s a lot of them.”

confused, you reached over to grab the book from her hands. your eyes widened at the content. you felt your heartbeat increase by the second and a deep blush color your cheeks as you rummaged through the pages. you were on each and every one of them; smiling, laughing, dancing, sleeping and more. you recognized some of them, since you remembered posing that way, but the majority of them were ellie’s invention. you were left speechless at how well she had managed to capture you, down to the smallest detail.

“she may think stella’s hot, but i can assure you she thinks you’re the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth. i mean, look at those. you’re her muse,” dina smiled sweetly at you.

“i have to talk to her,” you whispered before standing up. “i don’t wanna leave you alone, but—”

“it’s okay, dummy. i’ll be here, drinking my tea and waiting for you to come back and to tell me everything. take your time, though.”

with dina wishing you good luck, you left with the sketchbook in hand and ran to her place without even thinking twice about it. you ignored how dizzy you felt and the way your heart was beating at an abnormal speed. nothing else mattered, because everything suddenly seemed crystal clear.

your heart skipped a beat once you arrived at ellie’s place and saw her sitting on joel’s stairs, staring down at something in her hands. she looked up when she heard you approach.

“ellie—”

“i gave you the wrong sketchbook,” she whispered, staring at the object in your hands. you frowned, stepping closer to her. “you weren’t supposed to see that. i’m— shit, i’m sorry.”

“what? ellie, no. i loved it.”

“listen, you don’t have to lie. i know it’s really fucking weird and pathetic—”

“you wanna hear something really weird and pathetic? i scared the shit out of a girl just because she told me she was interested in you. you wanna hear the funniest part? that girl was stella. i drunkenly told her to stay away from you or else i would scratch her eyes out.”

ellie’s eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. worry had started spreading through your body. “what?”

“i forgot about that whole interaction but the anger i felt in that moment stuck with me to the point i hated a girl without even knowing why,” you let out an awkward chuckle. “i… i hated her because she thought about you the way only i can think about you.”

everything became a little too real since the moment those words left your lips, and even though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders once you made that confession, it was soon replaced with the weight of the question ‘what will happen next?’

ellie’s gaze softened, going from confusion to something indecipherable. was it pity or was it what you hoped for?

suddenly, she stood up. you watched her as she walked painfully slow at you, torturing you. once she was only inches away from you, she smiled. with a hand placed on your waist and the other on the side of your face, she finally leaned in and captured your lips in an agonizing, yet perfect, slow kiss. you melted into her touch, feeling as if you were about to explode of happiness.

it was what you had hoped for.

“i can’t believe this is actually happening,” ellie murmured, lips touching yours. she leaned back a little, allowing herself to look at you. her eyes expressed so much love you couldn’t understand how you went so long without realizing that.

“you’re blushing,” you commented, eyes sparkling.

“oh my g— why would you point that out?” ellie complained, but she wasn’t mad. “you’re blushing too, by the way.”

“shut up.”

you silently stared at each other with shy smiles. ellie caressed your face with her thumb and softly pressed her lips on yours, giving you one small kiss. everything felt so intimate that you had forgotten about the rest of the world, completely unaware of the fact that you were on the street.

“i was so fucking scared when i realized i gave you the wrong sketchbook. i thought i’d messed everything up,” ellie whispered, her eyebrows furrowing a little. “i’ve dealt with loss in the past, and even though it hurt like hell, i got over it. or at least i’ve been able to live with it, but losing you? There’s no way i’d make it.”

your heart fully stopped at her sweet words, “you’ll never lose me.”

“good,” she smiled. “y’know, i told myself to draw you whenever you were on my mind, just so i could do something with what i was feeling. turns out that i’m never not thinking about you.”

not knowing how to reply to that, you launched yourself forward, crashing your lips with hers. you could feel her laughing, making you giggle too.

“i was so nervous on my way here. i wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” you let out a small laugh, lips a little swollen.

“what? the sketchbook didn’t make that clear?”

“well, i didn’t want to jump to conclusions. i could be another stella, you know, just some girl you find hot,” you bitterly said.

ellie grimaced, “yeah, about that…” she awkwardly chuckled. “i don’t she’s hot. i only said that because i was hoping to get a reaction out of you.”

you gasped, “ellie, what the hell? first of all, you’re a bitch. that was a low blow. second of all, well played. it worked. it made me sick, literally.”

“i thought that was a coincidence,” she let out a laugh. “am i a mastermind or what?”

you rolled your eyes at her gloating, “yeah, yeah. don’t let it get to your head. it’s already big enough.”

“hey!”

“kidding,” you pronounced in a sing-song voice. as happiness spread all over your body, you placed your arms on her shoulders and locked your hands behind her neck. grinning, you brought her closer and kissed her again, and again, and again, and again.

[storiesoflilies]

school bus love (4)

synopsis: a series of successes, but it can’t always be sunshine and rainbows, can it?

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader.

warnings: none.

a/n: i’m done with my exams and i’m freeee! to celebrate, i’ve dropped more lily lore hehe. apologies if this isn’t the best, i’m so so tired, but i really wanted to post today! enjoy my darlings xo

drabble series // part 3 // part 5

toji fushiguro was an exceptionally hard nut to crack.

throughout the past two months, they had sent each other daily streaks. as per usual, she sent her usual quirky streaks to try and pique his interest. to her credit, it worked quite a number of times, as they’d had quite a few conversations over snapchat. they hadn’t been flirting, but it was still progress, and she was absolutely ecstatic every time she managed to crack toji’s enigmatic shell and draw him in.

however, they never spoke in person on the bus.

“you’re both bizarre,” her bus buddy had commented in private, rolling her eyes. “how can you snap each other every day and then not even speak actual words?”

she bit her lip nervously, swinging her heavy backpack higher onto her shoulder. “i don’t know! i’m too shy, maybe he is too?”

her bus buddy sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, clawing for her revision notes from somewhere inside her tote bag. exam season was in full swing, and having any sort of distraction was far from ideal. she was studying hard, but with thoughts of toji rippling in the back of her mind like a tantalizing fruit swinging high up on a tree, just out of reach.

she noticed that he often deflected the conversation back to her whenever she asked him slightly more personal questions. toji seemed to more interested in hearing about her old life back home, about the way of life and culture. while it was nice that he took an interest, his deflections and apparent unwillingness to reveal much about himself made her seriously doubt if toji had any sort of feelings for her.

chasing after him was maddening, and still so very addictive.

however, she had to decide when it was time to go cold turkey and cut her losses, but that time wasn’t just yet.

a movie was playing in the background as she peacefully lounged in the living room after a particularly long day at school. the rain hammered down outside, creating a pleasant hum of droplets hitting the roof, and she snuggled up further into the couch with her steaming mug of tea.

“so, how’s the handsome boy doing?” her mom suddenly perked up, sipping a glass of fizzy water. “the one at the bus stop.”

“oh, toji? we’re still talking.”

“you’re still just talking? he hasn’t asked you on a date yet?”

“mom, don’t. it’s exam time, i’m not thinking about that right now, and i bet he isn’t either.”

“alright, alright! i’m just saying, maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for him.”

she contemplated that with a finger placed thoughtfully on her lip. she’d always wanted to be asked on her first date, not the other way around, and it was a sentiment she wanted to hold on to for as long as possible. moreover, she wasn’t even totally sure that toji liked her back.

the plan had to shift; she had to step it up just a notch.

that night, after sending a picture of her midnight snack of avocado on toast and successfully attracting toji’s attention, she laid out the bare bones of a subtle plan. a plan that involved an indirect suggestion that should hopefully end with him asking her to see the latest avengers movie with him.

haha, so true. have you seen endgame yet?

toji fushiguro: nah not yet, wbu?

nah, not yet. i rlly want to tho 🙃

toji fushiguro: ah yeha, me and my friends are going on tuesday

well… fuck.

oh nice!! haha no spoilers though

toji fushiguro: hmm oh well now you mention it

toji fushiguro: nah, dw i wont i’m not that much of a dick haha

yeah lol, well hopefully i can see it before i go back home

that was a good nudge, right? it wasn’t too subtle. if he liked her, then surely he would take the initiative now.

toji fushiguro: oh when r you goin back?

a week after my last exam, can’t wait lol

toji fushiguro: i bet, it’ll be so much better than here

ah it’s not so bad here haha, wbu? what’s your plans for the summer?

toji fushiguro: so how hot does it get over there in summer?

she felt deflated, like a giant hot air balloon loosing all its shape and spluttering into a mess as it hurtled to the ground. why was toji so reluctant to answer such simple questions? it wasn’t like she was asking him to reveal the deepest, dirtiest secrets about himself. her heart was only half in the conversation after that, and she indulged his questions for a while before it fizzled out, like a sizzling party sparklers doused in an ice-cold splash of reality.

would this crush soon fizzle out in the same way too?

general taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight

school bus love taglist: @badbyeyoongi

side note: i told my boyfriend i was writing this little drabble series about us, and his exact response was, “ew, why?” he doesn’t like to admit that we were cute. he’s a big grump, but i love him very much lol.

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[penny00dreadful]

CW for this chapter on AO3

Part 1/ Part 3/ Part 5/ AO3

The Cowboys were now convinced that there was valuable treasure to be found below. Why else would they have been set upon by a group of men who both looked and acted like they were a part of a secret society?

Nothing Eddie, Steve or Robin said to them would convince them otherwise. 

Despite Steve’s attempts to argue with them that these people seemed to be wanting to preserve the area and not disrespect it by grave robbing, which was essentially what they were all doing, his arguments fell on deaf ears.

They did concede to strength in numbers, however. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how an extra three people would improve their strength. Especially since one of those people ended up on his ass the first time he shot a gun, but he supposed Steve and Robin’s skills made up for that. 

As soon as they had resettled their camp a little closer, Robin had broken out the Seagrams whiskey again.

Steve had passed, wanting to keep a clear head in case anything else happened, so the bottle was just passed back and forth between Eddie and Robin and they had managed to make their way through a sizable amount of it.

Robin had passed out with the bottle cradled close to her chest about a half an hour ago, leaving a hammered Eddie and a sober Steve on their own to entertain themselves.

Steve had decided, after Eddie’s display with the elephant gun, that he needed to learn at least a little self defence. And Eddie, bolstered by the alcohol in his blood, had decided that now was the perfect time to learn.

It wasn’t like Eddie was completely inexperienced. He had some bar brawler knowledge but that was about the extent of it. 

Steve was standing in front of him, hands up, palms out, waiting for Eddie to deliver his punch as he had been doing for the last few minutes.

Eddie blew a strand of hair out of his face and raised his fists, glaring at the palm of Steve’s hand like it had personally offended him.

How could a palm offend him?

What kind of scenario could he come up with in his head in which a palm offended him?

Eddie’s sugary-syrup mind could certainly come up with plenty of thoughts of how those palms might not offend him but maybe he shouldn’t be thinking things like that right now.

God damn, why did he drink so much? Drinking always made him horny.

With a large swing, Eddie cracked his fist into Steve’s palm hard and steady but he only had half a second to celebrate his success because he had apparently put all of his balance and working brain cells into his fist and so the rest of his body was left without.

His foot slipped out from under him and with the momentum of his fist, his body followed, tumbling forward and he would have face planted hard into Steve’s chest if Steve hadn’t twisted, allowing him to skate by his body but still catching him fast around the middle.

He slowly lowered Eddie’s limp and giggling figure back to the ground, gently and without seeming to put in much effort at all, apparently able to hold his body weight easily which Eddie tried desperately not to think about. 

In fact, he figured out the perfect way to distract himself.

He squirmed a little, like a kitten trying to get out of a cuddle and when Steve let him go, he crawled on his hands and knees over to Robin’s snoring body, plucked the nearly empty bottle from her hands and sat heavily back on his bum, sending Steve an extremely clumsy wink.

“Do you think that it’s maybe time to slow down?” Steve asked, a small little bewildered grin on his face.

Eddie widened his eyes and stuck his bottom lip out in a big doe-eyed pout. “I know when to say no, sweetheart.”

Steve just laughed quietly to himself with a conciliatory nod, his lashes low and his big hazel eyes glittering through.

“Y’know you…” Steve hesitated, looking back down and starting to draw nonsense patterns in the sand. “You confuse me. I can’t figure you out.”

Eddie shrugged, attempting to be smooth with it, but all of his movements were far too fumbling. 

“Well, where would the fun be if you could? Don’t you like a little mystery with your men, King Steve?”

Steve smiled again, a small, soft thing and he tilted his head. “Maybe. Do you?”

Eddie mirrored him. “Maybe. What have you figured out about me?”

“You know how to bar fight, but you’re a scholar. You dress in a semi-respectable fashion, but you have hidden tattoos and you wear far too much jewellery. Your hair seems to just kind of… exist on top of your head. You don’t do anything with it, but you’re clean shaven and your nails are neat. For some reason, when I asked Rob to help me out, she picked you. A librarian. But you were still able to get me out of prison and stop my execution. You were able to open the puzzle box and according to Rob, you have other unusual skills. Like lockpicking and hotwiring. And there’s like this… shell. You don’t make sense, it’s like you’ve come from two different worlds and… now you’re here?”

“Careful there, Stevie.” Eddie leaned back, resting on his elbows in the sand. “It almost sounds like you’re curious about little old me. A boy can get ideas from thoughts like that.” He rolled his head along his shoulders, allowing his hair to spill over and staring up at the sky, tugging a little at the chain for his pocket watch. “You gonna ask me next what’s a place like me doing in a girl like this?”

He pulled his head back up, turning to bat his eyelashes at Steve and Steve just smirked at him, not bothering to hide that he had been staring at Eddie’s stretched out neck.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve deadpanned. “That’s what I was going to say.”

“Well, sweetheart. There’s not much to tell. Dad was less of an archaeologist and more of a grave robber, very similar to our friends over there,” his knees were bent up as he laid back on his elbows, but he now nudged one knee over in the direction of the other party and instead of extending the effort to pull it back up, he just let it fall heavy to the side. “But eventually, raiding the tombs of the long dead wasn’t good enough for him and he started to just steal from the museums to sell on the black market. I was living with my uncle and my mom by then. Rural Indiana feels like a whole solar system away right now.”

“Rural Indiana, huh?” Steve asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed out, before laughing a little to himself. “My uncle still refuses to get electricity. At this stage I don’t know if he ever will. Don’t think he trusts it. What can that electric do for me that I can’t do for myself, son?” He snorted gently to himself again. “Crazy old man.”

He could see Steve grinning at him out of the corner of his eye.

“So how did your mom and your uncle feel about you running away to Egypt to follow your dads career path?”

Eddie rolled his head around. “My dad has nothing to do with my interest in archaeology. That was all my mom. And I’d like to think she would have supported me.” He pulled the pocket watch out, letting it rest loosely in his hand, running his thumb over it. “She was Egyptian, you know.”

“Oh?” Steve skated his eyes across Eddie’s dark hair and then back up into his dark eyes, his head tilting again as he listened, like a fascinated puppy dog.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed out. “She was… she was a big part of my life. So,” he inhaled again, almost inflating himself to get a barrier back up between Steve and his exposed innards, tucking the watch back into his pocket. “Egypt is in my blood, Harrington. I was born here. Masri is my mother tongue. So, yeah. Now I’m back here, trying to do right.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded. “I get that. But why not continue to stay… stay safe in your museums. Why were you so adamant about coming out here with us?”

“Because what’s there to be scared of? Knowledge is out here just below the surface and I am sick and tired of waiting around for other people to discover it. Why shouldn’t I be able to come out and do it for myself?”

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, well and truly fired up now.

“This is my mother’s country and if my lowlife of a father and people like him can come out here to steal, then why can’t I come out here to learn?” He pointed down at Steve. “I may not be a gunfighter or an explorer or an adventurer, yet. But I am proud of what I am!”

Steve was just grinning up at him now, a little bewildered as Eddie waved his arms around, but also a little charmed. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I–” Eddie thumped his fist against his chest. “–Am a librarian.” He almost growled out, turning his fired up eyes back down.

He had liquid courage as an inhibition inhibitor flowing through him, so he didn’t allow himself to think about it too much, spots starting to dance in his vision as he dropped to his knees and leaned into Steve.

“I’m going to kiss you now, King Steve.” He stated, firm and resolute as Steve’s face began to swim in and out of focus.

Steve raised his eyebrows, disbelieving. “Just Steve. Please.”

Eddie smiled, a big, goofy, uninhibited smile. “Okay.” He muttered. “Just Steve.”

Eddie leaned forward while Steve stayed exactly where he was, watching him with some level of amusement that Eddie wasn’t sure how to take.

But it didn’t really matter anyway, because no sooner had he leaned his centre of gravity over when his eyelids fluttered shut and he fell limp into blackness.

In hindsight, getting blackout drunk in the middle of the desert without a water closet available or an icebox nearby had not been his smartest moment. No bed or even an aspirin in sight to help him through waking up surrounded by sand and with the sun beating down on him like it was on a mission solely to kill him.

But they had a large and hefty supply of water and Eddie practically drowned himself in it as soon as he woke up. Plus, he’d always been able to bounce back pretty quickly. 

So by the time Steve was finished poking at Robin’s cheek, and Eddie was pretty sure she was two seconds away from shooting him in the knee, he turned his attention.

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already feeling a little better.

Invigorated by the coffee they had brought and the eagerness in his belly to get back to it, Eddie practically bounced down to the chamber below, puzzle box in hand. Steve followed placidly behind and Robin stomped, looking like she’d desire nothing more than to commit double murder at that moment.

Her scowl only got deeper as the three of them heaved, standing the sarcophagus that had fallen through the ceiling the day before upright on the wall; Eddie was practically vibrating as he set the puzzle box key into its lock.

“I’ve dreamed of this day ever since I was a child.” Eddie whispered in anticipation, his fingers flexing on the puzzle box.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You dream about dead guys?”

Eddie didn’t bother responding, just ignored him, choosing instead to point out the lid of the coffin.

“The sacred spells have been removed. Sarcophagi were supposed to be made for whoever was going in them, so to have them chiselled off…” Eddie shook his head, a little bewildered. “It suggests that this burial was done last minute, quickly, without prep time which… makes no sense.”

He looked at Steve who was waiting for him to continue and Robin who looked unusually grave.

“Mummification takes seventy days to complete.” She said, crossing her arms and eyeing up the coffin with suspicion.

Eddie was more confused than suspicious. He’d never read about such a rushed mummification before. 

“And to have the spells scratched off, it’s a sign of some great wrongdoing.” With his free hand, he brushed his fingers over the deep grooves of the hieroglyphics. “They wanted to send a message to the gods not to let him off so easily. Don’t let him in. Condemn him. So he was condemned in both life and death. This man was cursed… doomed, even.”

Eddie couldn’t understand it. He just hoped that seeing the mummy that was inside would help to provide more answers.

Robin and Steve were sharing the grave look between them now.

“Believe it yet?” Steve asked. “How about we hold on for just a second. We don’t want to release anything cursed–”

Eddie couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes. Cursed. There were no such things as curses.

He didn’t wait for Steve to finish the thought. He turned the key in the lock and the clicking had anticipation zinging through his veins while Steve and Robin gaped at him, outraged.

The lid of the sarcophagus shifted a little and Eddie had a moment of wild panic where he thought oh fuck, maybe there is a curse, but he came back to himself almost immediately, mentally slapping himself for such a ridiculous thought. Clearly the lock had just released the lid and it had shifted because of that.

He gave Steve and Robin a look, as if to say are you going to help me with this?

The two of them shared another grimace before shrugging. 

“If there was a curse, it’s already out.” Robin muttered, moving around to Eddie’s side and placing her hands next to his.

When Steve took his position on the other side, the three of them braced their knees and lifted.

The lid came away surprisingly easily, until it started tilting backwards and the three of them were forced to let go as it went crashing to the ground, followed by the most sickening, stomach churning smell Eddie had ever had the displeasure of smelling before in his life. 

He turned back to the open sarcophagus, expecting to see a human figure wrapped tightly in linens and standing upright in his coffin, but instead the sight he was met with sent him stumbling back a step in horror.

There was a body in the sarcophagus, alright. But he was rotting. Still covered in sloughing flesh, blackened and goopy bones poking out where the skin had fallen away, eyes, nose and tongue missing and jaw hanging open in a gruesome scream.

What little linens he was wrapped in seemed to have partially disintegrated with his body and Eddie was left even more confused than he had been before.

“Smells like the Gillman, don’t you think?” Robin muttered, pinching her nose, eyes darting between Steve and the mummy.

“Is he supposed to look like that?” Steve asked, his upper lip curled in disgust.

“No.” Eddie exhaled, stepping closer again despite the smell. “He’s still…”

“Juicy.” Robin and Steve answered at the same time.

Eddie huffed out through his nose. “Yes. He’s still juicy… but he’s over three thousand years old? It looks like he’s still… decomposing. Mummification involved drying out the body of all moisture. It’s why so many have survived for so long. And the dry conditions of the desert too. But even if the mummification process had been improperly applied… he shouldn’t look like this. He should just be… a skeleton.” 

He was still staring wide eyed and open mouthed at the body in front of him, wondering how the fuck this was possible when he heard a mutter of “Shit,” behind him.

He turned to find Steve kneeling over the fallen lid, tracing his fingers over the series of four parallel lines scratched inside.

They matched perfectly to the pattern his own fingers made.

“Fingernail marks.” Eddie whispered. “Jesus fuck. He was buried alive.”

Eddie tilted his head, reading the words the man had apparently also scratched into the lid.

“Death is only the beginning.”

He looked up just in time to see both Steve and Robin stare at each other, something silent passing between them and simultaneously reaching for their holstered weapons.

“What are you two going to do?” Eddie asked, incredulous, not knowing what the fuck they needed the weapons for. “Shoot him?”

They were all standing now and Steve shifted around a little, standing between Eddie and the mummy.

“If he wakes up. Yes.”

Eddie was starting to wonder if coming along with Steve and Robin had been the best idea he’d ever had. He loved Robin, don’t get him wrong, and Steve had been growing on him… like a boil. But they were so suspicious of everything. It was a little much if he was honest.

But still, he supposed any expedition was better than no expedition at all. 

As he weaved his way through the various tents and workspaces the Cowboys had set up, he was stopped short at the sight of the Egyptologist they had brought along, practically wrestling with a humongous and ancient black book with a familiar indent in the front, same as the one on the sarcophagus, trying to wrestle it open.

Eddie was immediately intrigued. Legend had it that the Book of Amun-Ra was made of solid gold, but this book looked like it was made of obsidian. 

A counterpart to the Book of Amun-Ra.

The Book of the Dead.

And Eddie wanted it.

When the Egyptologist caught sight of him staring, he stopped his abuse of the artefact in his hands and crossed his arms protectively over it, like Eddie was going to snatch it from him at that very moment.

Eddie just scowled. 

“Looks like you need a key.” He said before turning his back and continuing on towards his party, already formulating a plan in his mind for how he could steal it out from under their noses.

Around his party's campfire up ahead, he could see Steve and Robin, but could also see the Cowboys and Tommy sitting around with them.

The Cowboys had the canopic jars they found in their hands, waving them around with little care and were scoffing at the very concept of curses and how everyone seemed to be believing in them so easily.

It made Eddie feel a little guilty. 

He’d thought the same. Said the same.

But it also made him want to snatch the jars out of their hands and put them back where they’d found them. What right did they have?

Eddie’s guilt and irritation was quickly replaced with an almost shocking feeling of jealousy when he saw that Tommy had practically plastered himself against Steve’s side, leaning heavily into him and based on the upward curl of his mouth, he was muttering something teasing into Steve’s ear.

Steve wasn’t looking at him, seemed to be trying to pretend he wasn’t there, but when he heard the sound of Eddie’s approaching footsteps in the sand, Steve glanced up towards him and then turned back to Tommy, finally giving him some attention.

“You’re in his seat.” Steve snapped, his eyes cold and hard. Tommy just raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth for another quip but Steve cut him off. “Move.”

If the hard set of Steve’s jaw was anything to go by, he wasn’t joking around and Tommy seemed to recognise that as well, pushing himself to his feet with a scoff and shoulder checked Eddie hard as he walked away.

Eddie himself had to try to squash the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, almost mad at himself for responding in such a way to a caveman display of masculinity but unfortunately for his sanity, it was really doing something for him.

He sat himself down at Steve’s side and couldn’t help but lean in a little, but not as much as Tommy had been. Steve tilted himself a little, open and welcoming and again: there were those damn butterflies.

Eddie held his hand out. “Look what I found.” He said, the small petrified beetles resting in his palm. “Scarab skeletons, flesh eaters. I found them inside our friend’s coffin.”

Steve snapped his head over to him, his eyes wide in alarm. 

“What were you doing back down there alone?”

Eddie grinned at him, knocking their shoulders together. “What? Afraid the big bad mummy is going to come and get me, Just Steve?” He wiggled his fingers in front of Steve’s face who only responded with a far too serious frown.

Eddie just continued on. “These little guys can stay alive for years feeding on the flesh of a corpse. So it seems that unfortunately for our friend, he was still alive when they started eating him.”

“What the fuck.” One of the Cowboys, Jason, muttered from across the fire, the rest of them watching Eddie with horrified eyes.

“So someone threw these bugs in with our guy and they slowly ate him alive?” Steve asked, picking up one of the beetles.

“Very slowly.” Eddie leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice down to a rumble, putting on a show for the apparently weak stomached Cowboys. “Based on my research, it looks like our friend suffered the Hom-Dai. The worst of all Ancient Egyptian curses. One only reserved for the most evil of blasphemers. But I’ve never read about the curse actually being performed on someone before.”

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Well. They never really used it because it was pretty extreme and there was a healthy fear around it. There was a superstition that if a victim of the Hom-Dai should be raised, it would bring down the Plagues upon Egypt again.”

He was too busy examining his beetles to notice Steve and Robin leaning into each other, whispering with pensive faces.

Eddie’s heart was thundering in his chest. 

It had been years since he’d had an excuse to pick a lock and even longer since he had to do it quietly.

The Egyptologist that had come along with the Cowboys was fast asleep, the Book of the Dead locked up tight in his personal travel case and Eddie had taken the first opportunity available to him to break in.

He snatched the book up and scurried away to his own side of camp before he got too excited about his thievery and gave himself away.

Everyone around him was asleep and he kneeled down by the makeshift table next to Steve, trying not to get too distracted by the hair spilling over his eyes in his sleep as he breathed, slow and even, a rifle clutched in his hands.

Eddie shook his head, placing the dense black book down and crawling over as quickly and as quietly as he could, hovering over Robin’s body to slowly pull the puzzle box from her pocket, trying not to wake her up.

He succeeded, looking down on it cupped in his palms.

“This is a very stupid idea.”

 A voice from behind him lowly rumbled and Eddie did jump this time, whipping around to find Steve sitting up, one hand on the black book and his eyes digging into Eddie’s.

Eddie frowned, shuffling back over on his knees, popping open the puzzle box and all but slamming it down onto the lock on the front cover.

“It’s just a book, Steve.” 

Steve snatched his hand back as Eddie twisted the lock, perhaps with a little too much force and snapped his eyes down.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them, Steve no doubt unsure about how to deal with Eddie’s little temper tantrum.

“I thought this book was supposed to be made of gold?” Steve asked, offering an olive branch.

Eddie sighed, allowing his shoulders to drop from around his ears.

“I don’t think this is that book. The Book of Amun-Ra is rumoured to be made of gold, but I think this is a different one. I think this is the Book of the Dead.”

“You can’t be serious.” Steve looked up at him, almost like he was hoping Eddie was about to reveal he was joking.

“Are you sure you should be playing around with this thing?” Steve’s hand hovered over Eddie’s, almost ready to grab.

Eddie turned his big eyes on Steve, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. “No harm ever came from reading a book, Steve.”

He slowly opened it, the cover thunking heavily down onto the wooden table.

Almost immediately a wind blew through the camp, ruffling the tents, combing through their hair and Steve’s shoulders tensed. 

Looking down over the text spread beneath him, Eddie started to mutter the words to himself, following along with his finger.

“Should you be doing that? What if you’re speaking a curse into existence?”

Eddie ignored him. He needed to keep reading. Felt like he almost had to. There was something enchanting about the text. It felt correct in his mouth and there wasn’t a single moment of hesitation from him as he continued to read, his voice slowly rising from a mutter to a full chested speech.

A hand shot out and slammed the book closed and Eddie blinked back to himself, being met with the wild and frantic eyes of Robin staring down at him, her hand keeping the book firmly closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Eddie slowly turned back into his surroundings. The wind had picked up into a healthy gust and the horses and camels around them were antsy, pawing at the ground and tugging against their reins. 

There was a sound being carried to them over the air, an unsettling chittering getting slowly closer and closer.

Over the horizon, a shadow was descending. A large black mass rushing straight for them, slowly coming into sharp relief as a writhing buzzing mass of locusts.

“Mr. Hargrove!” The Egyptologist cried from his tent, as though they would be able to fight the swarm off with their fists. “Mr. Carver, Mr. Benson, Mr. Hagan! Wake up!”

Eddie had only a fleeting moment to wonder just what the fuck they themselves were going to do before he was pulled to his feet, his hand clasped tightly in Steve's, Robin on their heels and the three of them ran as the buzzing around them became almost deafening.

He couldn’t see anything around him, the insects closed in like a black curtain and Eddie was overwhelmed. The only reason he was able to keep upright was Steve’s hand in his, half pulling, half dragging him into the entrance of the tomb the Cowboys had come and gone through. 

They were plunged into darkness, the burning torch that Steve had snatched up from the fire only providing a small amount of light.

There was a fork in the corridor ahead of them and through the thinning-out swarm, Eddie saw the Cowboys break away in one direction while he, Steve and Robin shot down another.

They would have kept running too if Robin hadn’t somehow stopped them both dead with her hands at the back of both of their collars, yanking the two of them into an alcove where the three of them pressed in close.

Eddie was face to face with Steve’s chest hair as his body was blocked in, defended against the swarming hoard that was passing them by.

Robin was by his side, pressed in tight and she blinked her big steely eyes up at Steve, his arms spread out at either side of them, wall to wall.

“We’ve faced worse.” She said to him, stoic and firm, like it was a mantra of theirs she was repeating. 

Steve only nodded in response. 

Eddie looked back and forth between the two of them as much as he was able, squeezed into this small corner as the buzz got quieter and quieter, wondering just what the fuck kind of history Robin and Steve had between them.

Just as things had settled to a dull hum and the three of them slowly crept out of their hiding space, checking the coast was clear, there was an echoing call, distorted and far away.

“My glasses!”

Steve had only taken one step towards the noise when it was interrupted by a terrified scream. 

Eddie’s body froze, still as a statue, something primal inside of him taking the choice away.

Time seemed to stretch on ahead of him, slowed down and sped up at the same time.

It could have only been a second before he was able to move again, almost pushed into motion by the two next to him, running in the direction the scream had come from, trying to find who it was.

They were forced to come to a crashing halt again when a small hill of sand began to rise up in front of them.

Spilling out of the sand underneath were piles upon piles of iridescent black beetles, turning the sandy ground beneath them dark in a second. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Eddie screeched, nearly tripping over his own feet as Steve and Robin shoved him back, so when they turned, he was running at the head of the line, the furthest away from the river of beetles rushing towards them.

The corridor broke out into a stone walkway, dropping out at either side of them to what was sure to be a deadly fall and Eddie tried not to think about it at all as he spotted an alcove, very similar to the one they’d hidden in before and he dove for it, thinking is this really what’s gonna take me out? I’m gonna die from fucking beetles and locusts? Or falling to my death in some spooky ruined mirage city?

He landed in a heap, curling into the bottom of the alcove but thankfully didn’t feel any creepy crawlies scrambling all over him.

He also didn’t feel the two bodies of his companions tumbling down on top of him, which was less relieving.

Pushing himself up onto his knees, Eddie turned, peering around the corner to see the still thick swarm of beetles skittering up the walkway, bypassing them completely, like they were being drawn to something. 

Steve and Robin were standing on an outcropping on the opposite side, panting and wide eyed, watching the beetles pass.

Eddie would have been interested to see how it ended. 

He’d have been interested to see the strangely mesmerising shifting sea of insects slowly thin out and then stop. 

He’d have been interested to see if Steve and Robin were just as fascinated and grossed out as he was.

But he didn’t get to see any of that.

Because as he collapsed back into the wall behind him in relief, clutching at his heart, thankful that Steve and Robin were okay, the wall behind him moved.

Like a trapped door had been activated by his weight, Eddie found himself falling, tumbling backwards down a stone chute, swallowed whole into darkness. 

Part 1/ Part 3/ Part 5/ AO3

Happy birthday @hbyrde36

My biggest thanks and much love to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation!

[quibbs126]

I did another one that no one was necessarily asking for, but I still wanted to do, this is Vampire Shrimp Cookie

I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure if this is even a ship, or if anyone but me ships it (and maybe @bellatheinkdemon considering they made darklobster comics this morning? But that might have just been because I requested a fankid for this ship and they decided to do more afterwards), but I think it’d be neat. I know in canon they haven’t interacted, but their backstories seem similar and I would really like to see them interact at some point, and see how they’d work off each other. Okay, I don’t think that’s very solid of a reasoning, but I just thought shipping them would be kind of neat, and put them on my list. Then this morning I had a bit of a darklobster kick, so I made this one

So does anyone remember that one time when I went on a bender looking up shrimp and then posting about them? Well okay, I only made one post, but I did still do that. Anyways, so one I particularly liked was the vampire shrimp, and I was considering using one for a darklobster kid, since shrimp and lobster are related, plus they’re big (for shrimp) and rather bulky, and also they apparently give off the impression of being scary, when in reality they really aren’t, which seems to fit Dark Choco’s personality (also they aren’t vampiric, so I’m not sure why they’re called that). So I thought “good enough” and put it as a candidate, and to be honest I just wanted to make this into a Cookie, so yeah

Vampire shrimp:

So I’ll be honest, I definitely put more Lobster into her design than Dark Choco, though I’m not entirely sure how to fix that. I gave her a grayish color because I remembered some vampire shrimp having blue-grayish shells, but I think they were more blue than I remembered. Lobster’s tone probably could have worked fine, but I mean, it makes her look more like a mix. And I gave her black hair to give her some similarities to Dark Choco (as well as me thinking it’d work good with the grey). I also put in some reds like Lobster, though I think it helps with the whole “vampire” part of her name, as well as the fact that she’s supposed to have an at least somewhat crooked mouth that resembles fangs. Though again, vampire shrimp aren’t vampiric. I gave her normal hands instead of claws because vampire shrimp don’t have claws. Also I gave her a little shark plush because she’s supposed to be shy, and I thought her hiding herself behind a toy would sell that, and I made it a shark to match Lobster’s sea aesthetic. Though maybe I should have chosen something different, as it does still lean in to the “more emphasis on Lobster” thing

I’ll be honest, I just sort of made something up for her dress. That’s something I’ve noticed, if I make a character where their torso is largely obscured, I’ll have no clue what to do for the outfit. Ah well

Also I don’t know why I drew her as a child. One thing I wanted to portray is that vampire shrimp are bulky, but I can’t really do that with a young child. Maybe I can draw her again as an adult, because that’s definitely something I wanted to keep, she’s supposed to be large. But for now at this age, she’s very small, which I guess works with her shrimp thing. Also don’t know when I decided to make her a girl, I think I was originally going to make her either a boy or non binary. Ah well

So as for her character, there’s not too much, she’s pretty basic. She’s a very shy young girl, who often hides behind her parents (or in Dark Choco’s case, usually within his capes/cloaks). She’s rather timid and has a hard time opening up to people, but if you get her to open up, she’s a very friendly individual who likes to play with others

I’d also imagine Mocha Ray to be like an aunt to Vampire Shrimp, and someone she loves to play with

Growing up, I don’t imagine her to be a warrior, as she’s very non aggressive and would rather settle things peacefully. Not sure what she’d do though

(I may or may not have just taken her personality from what I read about how vampire shrimp behave, but shh. Also I felt like it fits)

Anyways yeah, not much to say on that end. I know at one point I said part of my issues is that I wasn’t able to flesh out these fankids’ personalities in time, but now I have all the time in the world and am able to come up with very little. Though then again, it could also be the lack of creative juices flowing while I’m at home

But regardless, I hope you like her!

[hellwurld]

it's a gift! for @routeriver! for the @mcytblrholidayexchange! hi, i hope you enjoy some foolish & tina shenanigans, with quite a bit of bagina and empanada in there too, because i love those girls!

ao3 link

Foolish is a fantastic friend.

Honestly, he’d say that he’s a pretty great guy all around, and frankly, he’s been keeping it all together pretty well for a guy in his situation. He got forced into a death game, and then there were all the eggs, and the duel, and the boat leaving him behind as a meteor struck. He’s cracked to pieces, he can’t see out of one eye, and he’s more shark than he’s ever been before, which doesn’t seem like a great sign.

But, comparatively to some people, like Max who died, Foolish is doing pretty well. He looks like shit, sure, but he’s doing well.

Everyone looked like shit at the end of Purgatory, it’s part of being in Purgatory, so Foolish thought everyone would be on the same page.

Tina, apparently, didn’t get the memo.

“Okay, I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Foolish says, squinting at Tina. His vision is blurry, and he knows that he’s been going a little crazy since this started, but he doesn’t think he’s gotten to the stage of hallucinating yet. This means that, unfortunately, his very close, top ten favorite, longest known friend, Tina, is actually reapplying makeup. Tina glances at him in disdain, and makes a face.

“You wouldn’t think that, would you?” She says, looking him up and down. Foolish sputters in disbelief.

“You can’t— Tina, what? Tina, I— You cannot be serious right now?” Foolish hisses, whipping his head around like someone is going to come out with a camera and TV crew and tell him he’s on Punk’d. Tina just hums in acknowledgment, pulling at her face so that she can put a pencil-looking thing to her under eye in a way that cannot be comfortable.

Listen, Foolish loves Tina. People talk, have talked for years and years, about how they seem to butt heads, how they don’t really seem to get along, but Tina and him are friends. Like, real friends. They’re weird, in their own way, but Foolish always has weird friends. He’s friends with Bad, of all people, so everyone should really start to expect his friends to be weird. But, this is where Foolish is drawing the line, because they need to leave. They needed to leave hours ago, but Foolish couldn’t find Tina anywhere.

“Tina—” Foolish tries, but Tina shushes him, waving him off.

“Shhh,” She says, shoving her hand in his face, and he just stares at her with wide eyes. He can’t believe her, this can’t be real.

“Am I— Tina, are you real? This isn’t real, I— This isn’t real, you’re pranking me, this is a prank—” Foolish rambles, collapsing to lay down in the sand, hands over his eyes. The sun is a bright, glaring red, and Foolish thinks that he is going to be the first person to ever experience what nuclear radiation does to a totem. He’s not that interested in being a scientific anomaly, but that’s just how life goes.

Tina does not seem to care much about his crisis. When he tells her that he doesn’t want to become the Federation’s grand scientific discovery, and that his life isn’t worth a Nobel Peace Prize, or any prize, she just shoots him an absent thumbs up. Her tongue sticks out in focus, and Foolish feels a little bit like he’s going to snap into pieces.

“Tina—”

“Oh my God,” Tina hisses, “I’ll be ready in a second, just wait, asshole!”

Foolish isn’t proud of this, okay? He’s a nice guy. He’s a great guy. But, and this is important, he’s known Tina long enough that he doesn’t really need to be nice to her.

So, Foolish does what he has to do. He lassos Tina, picks her up, and launches her into the ocean.

For the first few miles, Tina just floats on top of the sea, letting Foolish do all the hard work of swimming so that she can mope around. Then, Foolish decides that he would also like to breathe air for a second, and she attempts to stay under the water so she doesn’t have to talk to him.

Foolish thinks about letting her drown. He doesn’t let her, but only because she would absolutely tell everyone that he left her to die, and he really does not want to deal with that.

It’s only on hour three that she says something, and honestly he’s regretting wishing that she would talk to him at all.

“Could we not have built a boat?” She says, spitting water out of her mouth as he speeds up. He can’t maintain the speed, but it’s good to keep her on her toes. He dives under the water too, just to humble her. It’s a little petty, but Foolish is a little petty, and she’s been so put together this whole time, that he just can’t really help himself.

She starts yelling as soon as he surfaces, which he takes as a good sign that he’s succeeded in making her angry, until he realizes that it’s actually kind of awful, because he’s the one stuck with an angry Tina for the next few hours. She starts swimming faster, just to get closer so she can yell in his ear, but she can’t keep up. He doesn’t fault her for that, because Tina is wearing seven layers of clothing at any given time and Foolish is incredibly aerodynamic. Foolish is also a shark, but he thinks the aerodynamics is what really gives him the advantage.

Once Tina has finished yelling at him, and once Foolish is done trying to get her to yell more, they drift in silence. Foolish knows which direction the island is, and the wind is, thankfully, pushing the ocean that way so he doesn’t have to work as hard, so for a little while, he’s able to chill. Tina has decided to dedicate herself to dethorning the lasso around her. It was fashioned from a vine that seemed to be pretty painful for everyone that wasn’t made of precious metals with skin that isn’t as thick as a sharks. Foolish knows Tina’s durable enough to not feel the thorns, and even if she wasn’t, the many layers of clothing do a good job at protecting her.

She’s probably just bored, being alone with her thoughts. Tina’s never liked that. Foolish doesn’t mind it nearly as much as she does. Foolish likes to think, contrary to popular belief. He used to always think aloud, but once he started living around people again, he realized that talking to yourself isn’t the best trait to have. So, he tries to keep in on lock, at least when he’s thinking about things he doesn’t want to share.

Foolish shares a lot with Tina, but it’s been a long week, and Foolish has a lot to think about for himself, so he lets her struggle on her own.

There’s something itching at him. It might be all the people left behind, by the boat they couldn’t make it to, and by Foolish who couldn’t find them: Cellbit, Baghera, Etoiles, and Bad. It might be Max, who Foolish is still trying to wrap his head around because he died and he also nuked the island. It’s not that though, because it’s something smaller. He wracks his brain, trying to figure out what’s bothering him, because he knows it’s something, someone.

He thinks it has to do with Tina.

And then Tina screams, and the thought is left behind, because holy shit, who the fuck is that?

“That’s a person, oh God—” Tina starts yelling, so Foolish starts yelling because oh, God, that is a person.

There is a person, sinking in the water beneath them, and Foolish makes the split second decision of ‘I should probably help this guy’ and dives under the water, reaching blindly for the pale, thrashing person in the water. When he makes contact, the person is distinctly furry, and Foolish recognizes the bright orange vest of the workers. The worker tries to fight Foolish’s hold, but Foolish is strong enough to get a good grasp, and he doesn’t care at all if he has to knock this guy out to stop them from drowning.

So, he does that, and he ties part of the rope around them too. The worker is... weirdly buoyant, so it’s once again, just him and Tina swimming, this time with a furry mass bobbing beside them. It’s weird, and Tina hisses every time the worker floats a little too close to her, but it’s altogether pretty alright. They make small talk, but Tina always seems half-focused on watching the guy out of the corner of her eye.

Foolish can’t remember much, but Tina being wary, paranoid, doesn’t strike him as especially strange. It should, probably, because Tina has seemed fairly upbeat and positive the whole time she’s been on the island, but it doesn’t.

Foolish puts Tina into the same category as Bad. They’re weird, obviously, and Foolish knows there’s some sort of complicated history with them, but he just can’t remember. He tries not to let it bother him. Some things he can’t change, and island-induced amnesia seems to be one of those things.

She seems happy enough when they spot the beaches of the Island, but Foolish supposes that anyone would be happy at that point.

When they climb onto land, Tina detaches herself from Foolish almost instantly, ripping the rope from around her body. They drag the unconscious worker onto land, and as Foolish stabilizes the guy, Tina scrunches the water out of her hair. Agent 18 meets them, and after a small crisis where Foolish has to confirm that yes, he is alive and yes, they should probably stop having funerals for him, they’re able to escort the other worker into the Federation building. Apparently, he was not normal, and was a worker from the other island, which makes a lot more sense.

Tina seems glad to go along with them, lamenting the ways she was rejected from the Federation as an employee. Foolish isn’t really holding out hope that she’ll actually become a worker, due to her... associations. He says as much.

“I don’t think they’ll let you in,” Foolish says, and Tina frowns at him.

“Wha— Why not?” She asks incredulously, crossing her arms, “I have all the qualifications.”

“Oh yeah,” Foolish says sarcastically, “Like being a barista! So highly qualified.” She rolls her eyes, and elbows him harshly.

“Yeah, exactly,” She says, squinting up at him, challenging him, “I’ll have you know I’m incredibly skilled.”

“I’m sure you are,” Foolish placates, before pausing. He has to figure out how to say this in a way that won’t make her yell at him. He looks to Agent 18 for help, but he is studiously ignoring both of them in favor of arranging a small prison cell around the Unnamed Freaky Eye Worker. Foolish takes a deep breath, and turns to Tina.

“Based on your...” He pauses, and Tina looks like she’s about four seconds away from smacking him, “associations, they’d probably think you’re a spy.”

“My associations?” Tina asks, and now Foolish is confused, because it seems pretty obvious. Pretty cut-and-dry, if he says so himself.

“Well, y’know, you and Bagi?” Foolish says it slowly, in case Tina is concussed and needs him to speak slower than usual. She looks a little spacey, eyes wide and mildly panicked. He continues nervously, “She’s not really on great terms with the Federation, and well— like, y’know, if she’s not on their good side, then you’re not on their good side. It’s like those people who are attached to each other and can’t be separated, like twins, conjoined twins—”

Now, Foolish could’ve kept talking. He’s pretty good at it. Tina doesn’t really let him, because Tina is Tina and Tina is a freak, so she starts coughing violently in response.

Foolish immediately stops talking, rushing over panicked to Tina because if she chokes and dies now, he’s gonna be so pissed. Tina is wide-eyed, flushed, and Foolish thinks that he either majorly fucked up his perception of events or Tina is wildly more concussed than he thought she was.

“What makes you—” She coughs again, and clears her throat. “What makes you say that?” She asks. She seems normal, but Foolish knows Tina, and Foolish knows that something is very wrong. Her eyes are sharp, and her tone is frantic, and Foolish gets the sinking suspicion that he has triggered something that he’s not sure the fallout of, but he’s sure that he doesn’t want to know the fallout of.

“Nothing,” Foolish says, turning away from Tina and pretending like he can’t feel her eyes boring into his skull. Agent 18 has, conveniently, slipped out of the room, so it’s just Foolish, Tina, and an unconscious, furry cyclops sleeping like a brick in a prison cell. “It was, uh— I was just saying, y’know, because everyone knows that you and her are like— Well, It’s nothing.”

Foolish is so good at this. He should win an award. He should win ten awards.

“It’s not nothing!” She yells, obviously not caring if their prisoner wakes up, “What do you mean everyone knows—”

“I didn’t mean anything, I just said it randomly!”

“Well, I’m just randomly telling you to continue!” Tina hisses, and Foolish feels a beat of anger in his chest. It’s a little like arguing with Bad, an age old familiarity that shouldn’t attach itself to someone that he really doesn’t have any working memories about.

“Why do you care so much?” Foolish says, like an idiot, because obviously Tina would want to know why everyone thought her and Cellbit’s cool, but kinda insane, sister were involved in some sort of... deal, or whatever.

“I don’t care,” Tina says petulantly, like an even bigger idiot, because obviously, she does.

“Obviously, you do!” Foolish says, mildly hysterical because he’s the one that’s been getting yelled at for something he thought was supposed to be obvious.

“You’re the one that cares, asshole!” Foolish’s eye twitches, but Tina just kind of glares at him, her tail lashing behind her. Foolish isn’t really paying attention to it, but if he was, he’d see that it’s less of a cat tail and more of a demon’s, with a spade tip and a sharp look to it. Tina’s eyes are dark with slit pupils, but Foolish is more focused on his own show of dramatics, tossing his hands above his head as his own eyes glow in frustration. Through the cracks in his body, a totem’s glowing light can be seen, simmering under the surface in a mildly angry boil.

“Oh my god, whatever,” Foolish groans, pushing his hood down as he runs his hand through still-wet hair. He slides down the wall to sit down, energy leaving him. He was already tired, and the adrenaline of purgatory, and having to swim for his life, and then the thrilling argument with Tina had already started to leave him. He’s just kinda tired now, and he can feel the water seeping under his skin through the cracks, leaving him feeling just kind of damp. Through just a look at Tina, he can tell that she feels similarly, collapsing down to sit next to him.

She still looks pristine, Foolish notes bitterly. Her skin is clear and glowing, and her hair has light waves from the water but no knots, and from what Foolish can see, there’s not a single cut or scar or burn on her. It’s honestly kind of frustrating.

They both just breathe, for a minute or two. Foolish lets himself wind down, but Tina seems lost in thought, brow furrowing every so often as she mumbles to herself quietly. She looks up at him, at one point, and Foolish is too tired to do anything but just kinda look back, expectantly.

“The Federation thinks we have something going on?” Tina asks, whispering. It’s a stark contrast to before, and Foolish can’t help but continue to feel like he missed something.

“Yeah,” Foolish says, and once he starts, he can’t really stop. “But, I mean, It’s not just them. We all thought something was going on, and— well, like, Cellbit said he crashed some sort of date, and Bagi told you she loved you that one time—”

“She what?” Tina interrupts shrilly, almost squealing at him. Foolish doesn’t quite block his eyes, but he flinches enough that Tina grimaces in apology, repeating herself quietly. “She what?” She says again, this time in more of a stage whisper.

“Yeah,” Foolish says, mildly amused, “I thought you were just being nice about it, but, like, I guess she said it as you were leaving. It was right at the beginning, like when teams were getting picked, and then you went to your team— and, well, like, we all knew she liked you.”

Tina looks a little shell shocked, and Foolish understands why. It’s a lot to hear that some girl is in love with you when you had no idea. Foolish has had his fair share of clueless days, so he empathizes with Tina not knowing. Tina’s very pretty, and people tend to fall in love with you when you’re incredibly pretty and kind and funny. Foolish would know. So, he’s very willing to be there as Tina figures out what to do.

“It’s okay, Tina,” He says, because he’s a great, and incredibly observant friend, “It’s just that with her liking you, the Federation won’t let you join, even if you don’t like her back. It’s very unfair.”

He’s so good at this friendship stuff.

“Wait,” Tina says, and Foolish waits, because he’s great. Tina pulls back, “You think I don’t like Bagi?”

Foolish is confused. Tina is confused. They’re both just staring at each other, as Foolish tries to piece together the puzzle in his brain. Bagi likes Tina, Foolish knew this. Tina likes Bagi, and Foolish did not know this. Together, this means that—

Something clicks.

“Oh my god,” Foolish says.

“Foolish,” Tina groans, already tired of him and his revelations.

“Oh my god!”

“Foolish, it’s really not that big a deal—”

“Tina, I had no idea—”

“You’re yelling, Foolish,”

“You’re gay?”

“Yes, I like her, it’s really not—” Tina pauses. Foolish is looking at her, incredulous. “Foolish,” Tina says, completely and utterly shell-shocked, “You didn’t know I was gay?”

“No idea,” Foolish says, “You didn’t give off any of the signs.”

“Foolish, I’ve been obsessed with her since the moment she joined. I said that she made me nervous and that she was the coolest person I’d ever met, and that I desperately wanted her to like me—”

“Oh my god,” Foolish groans, and Tina cackles at him.

“You didn’t know?” She says, breathlessly, like she can’t believe it because she can’t.

“I had no idea, I thought—” He gestures aimlessly, mildly pathetic, and Tina can’t stop laughing at him.

“What did,” She interrupts herself, laughing even harder, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, “What the fuck did you think?”

“I didn’t realize!” Foolish whines, and she doubles over, almost rolling on the ground from how hard she’s laughing. He’s embarrassed, but he’s not terribly surprised. Tina’s been obsessive over Bagi since the moment they met, but it didn’t strike him as weird or crush-y, because his mind was telling him that’s how Tina is. That’s how Tina was. Vaguely, he can grasp memories of her acting like this before, with warrior girls and tricky fairies, and he just— hadn’t thought of it.

She’s always been Tina to him, since the moment they re-met on the island. She’s indescribable, because he can’t remember anything about her, just that she is her and he’s known her and loved her for centuries. She’s his best friend, and he can’t describe her at all. Part of him is desperately, terribly sad, despite how he’s laughing with her now, because this is basic stuff. He thinks that, maybe, before the island, he would’ve known this, and he would’ve been there to meet all the girlfriends and know all the inside gossip. This time, though, he didn’t. He couldn’t remember, and then they went to Purgatory.

There’s so much about Tina that he used to know, that he should remember, and he doesn’t. It makes him a little sick, and it makes him a little sad. Mostly, it just makes him feel empty.

Foolish is a good friend, and he’s an observant guy, he really is. He can pick up on things easily, and he thinks that, maybe, in another life, he would’ve known this about Tina instantly, would’ve remembered and categorized it away in his head. The island makes things slippery, makes things harder to hold onto, both memories and objects and people.

Foolish wants to say this. Tell Tina that he’s sorry he forgot and that he misses her and that he knows her but can’t remember her and that he wants to remember.

“Congrats on coming out,” he says instead, because it’s not the time for that.

“Thanks,” Tina replies, instead of saying I know. Foolish can hear the words underneath it anyway. He wipes at the tears in his eyes, formulated from laughing so hard he almost cracked another rib, and Tina does the same, waving at her eyes with her hands, so she doesn’t mess up her makeup even further.

Oh my god, the makeup.

“Was the makeup for Bagi?” Foolish asks, and Tina stops, glancing over to him, wide-eyed.

“Um,” Tina says, “It depends. Does it look good?” Foolish groans loudly, which makes Tina flush in embarrassment, checking herself in a mirror situated on the wall to make sure it’s still good. It’s messy, from her dive in the ocean, but Tina still looks lovely, nearly sent from Heaven. The demonic influence helps, her form shifting to always look tempting and perfect compared to others, a secret invitation to Hell disguised as a welcome into Heaven, but it’s mostly her own skill and dedication to presentation.

“Looks like shit,” Foolish lies, and she smacks the side of his head with her hand.

“Oh, fuck off,” She grumbles, wiping off bits of watery mascara that have become runny due to the swim. Foolish wheezes a loud windshield-wiper laugh. Tina startles at the noise, which only causes him to laugh even louder.

There’s a grumble from the bed, and they both whip around to see the Eyeball Worker blink a bleary eye awake. This is their cue to run, and Foolish doesn’t hesitate to jump up and throw Tina over his shoulder, slamming open doors and sprinting out of the building at an unrivaled, never-seen-before speed.

“I’ll drop you at her house,” Foolish wheezes, and Tina screams in his ear as revenge.

“Put me down, asshole, I’ll find my own way home,” She says, and Foolish grins, slowing and stopping to drop her unceremoniously on her ass. He waves goodbye, as he runs in another direction, and she dazedly waves back, wobbling as she gets back on her feet.

“Fucking scumbag,” Tina says, shaking herself out, tail whipping behind her. Tina combs a hand through her hair, checking to make sure that the cat ear accessories placed over her horns are still in place, and turning around to make sure her tail is still looking like a cat tail. As she’s checking herself over, she hears a twig snap behind her somewhere, and she sighs as she fully turns to look.

“Foolish, I swear to—”

It’s Bagi. A tired, messy-looking, still kind-of-dirty Bagi, but Bagi nonetheless. It’s also a Bagi with a little girl in her arms. She’s tiny, and wide-eyed, and has tiny little horns that mimic Tina’s peeking out from under a floppy, pancake-esque hat.

“Um,” Tina says, eloquently, before her brain catches up with her and her face flares with embarrassment because, really, Tina, that’s what you say to your kind-of-girlfriend, kind-of-not that you haven’t seen for days holding a child that looks kinda like you.

“Hi,” Bagi says, like Tina’s not an idiot, and Tina falls a little bit more in love with her.

“Hi,” Tina says, because she is an idiot. She tries not to think about how bad she wants to kill herself out of embarrassment, as Bagi tries to not think about how gorgeous Tina is even with, especially with, wet hair and smudged makeup.

“Hi!” The little girl says, “I’m Empanada.” She holds out an expectant hand, and looks up at Tina with all the confidence and flair that Tina never had as a kid.

“Hello, Empanada,” Tina says, smiling softly, “I’m Tina.”

“I know,” Empanada says frankly, and Tina recoils slightly, still smiling but this time far more confusedly. Empanada clearly notices this, because she continues. “You’re my mom,” she says, “It was on my certificate. That means you can call me Em.” She rummages around in her dress pockets, squirming in Bagi’s arms before she hands Tina a carefully folded certificate that proclaims Tina as her mother, along with Bagi, Jaiden, Mouse, and Niki.

“Ah,” Tina says, “It’s lovely to meet you then, Emmy.” The nickname slips out, but Em just grins widely and holds out two arms, making grabby hands until Tina leans forward enough for her to wrap her arms tightly around Tina’s neck. She jumps out of Bagi’s arms and clings to Tina in a strong enough hug to knock her breathless.

“Hi, Eomma Tina!” Em says, head tucked over Tina’s shoulder making it so that she’s talking just loud enough for Tina’s ears to mildly ache, “It’s so, so, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Mamãe Bagi. She said that you were very nice and very smart, and she said you were really pretty, and she wasn’t lying, because you are!”

Tina turns to look at Bagi, who’s turning more red by the second. “Em,” Bagi says, mildly frantic and wide-eyed as she studiously does not make eye contact with Tina, but Em just barrels on.

“Honestly, I thought she was gonna be lying, because she clearly likes you, but she wasn’t, which is nice,” Em says, before pulling away to frown at Tina. “Do you like her too? Because she really likes you, and it’s not a normal like, but a like-like, and it would be cool if my moms were dating.”

Tina hums, and out of the corner of her eye she can see Bagi redden even further, which she didn’t even think was fully possible.

“Em,” Bagi chides, “Tina just got back. Let’s not overwhelm her with questions.” She takes Em from Tina’s arms, avoiding eye contact and physical contact by any means necessary.

“I don’t like Mamãe Bagi,” Tina says, lowering herself to Em’s line of vision. Em frowns, and Tina can hear Bagi’s breath hitch slightly, and she decides to take a risk. She taps Em’s nose, and when the girl scrunches her nose, Tina laughs softly.

“I love Bagi,” Tina says, and when it registers in her brain, Em beams with a huge smile, turning in Bagi’s arms to look up at Bagi. Tina hurriedly takes Em’s face in her hands, and when Em looks at her quizzically, Tina puts a finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

“Shh,” Tina whispers loudly, enough that Bagi can hear but quiet enough that Em thinks it’s a real whisper, “You can’t tell her before I do. It’s a secret.”

Em nods gravely, and makes a zipping motion over her mouth, before turning back into Bagi’s arms and giggling to herself. Tina rises from where she was crouched, and resolutely does not look at Bagi as she links their arms. She allows herself to grasp Bagi’s upper arm softly, as she walks so close to her that they’re knocking into each other.

“Let’s go home,” Tina says, finally looking at Bagi. Bagi doesn’t say much, just nods with a stupid smile on her face and lets Tina drag all three of them to her house, content to listen fondly as Em and Tina chatter quickly with each other.

[vi-writes-things]

Piece of Mind

By Vivian B

———————

Kira furrowed her brow, not entirely sure she understood the customer correctly.

“I’m sorry, what would you like, ma’am?”

“Just a finger”

“Only a finger?”

“Yes…”

Kira stared at the customer; a tallish woman, blonde hair sitting around the shoulders. She looked more or less like an average, if slightly upper class, customer that Piece of Mind would see.

———

Ever since the Anatomical Exchanging and Modifying Act was passed, anybody could now use technology to enhance themselves legally and without taxation (taxing the use of technology in this way was apparently more of a debate than anything the ‘god made man in his image’ crowd could come up with). funds were made available, scientists and engineers got to work, and pretty soon Bio-Enhancing services were cropping up all over Neo-Terra and all of its satellite colonies and dominions.

The sentiment behind the act was to ensure everybody could have a body they could be proud of, that wouldn’t hurt them physically or psychologically. No longer were the circumstances of birth something to either begrudgingly accept or try to deal with.

It should’ve been a utopia of bodily autonomy.

And then the finance bros jumped in and created franchises.

———

Kira searched through the anatomical databases… they had arms, forearms, shoulders(?), hands, muscles, tendons, veins, arteries, nerves, skin-grafting and even the growth rate of nails.

They had no fingers.

Kira should’ve told the customer that they didn’t provide services for fingers, that they could provide hands at the very least. She didn’t want to draw the ire of the boss, however…

‘IF I HEAR ONE MORE CUSTOMER HAS BEEN TURNED AWAY BECAUSE OF SOME BULLSHIT EXCUSE, YOU’RE ALL FIRED!!!!!’ screamed the angry post-it note on the wall of the break room. The manager, Jones, had left it there after one very drunk customer tried to fight Mathide when they refused to administer breast augmentation to his less than enthused spouse. After several holes punched in the wall, Jones had reluctantly decided not to fire them, just dock a week out of their pay…

Kira couldn’t afford to lose money or get fired. She was so close to finally being able to afford a full-body enhancement. She was this close to freeing herself of the body she was born in and becoming herself…

“I’m afraid we don’t have fingers only in our database…” Kira cautiously explained to the customer. “I’m going to have to consult with my colleague…” she said before nodding her head apologetically. The customer seemed to understand, or at least not scoff at the fact Piece of Mind thought about nerve endings and veins, but not fingers.

———

“Just a finger?” Mathide asked, their furry brow raised.

“That’s what she wants…” Kira sighed, massaging her temples. If she had known this problem would come up today, she wouldn’t have sampled the margarita mix gifted to her last night.

“Who the hell wants just a finger changed?” Mathide scoffed, reaching a paw for their coffee. It tasted godawful, but instant usually does. “Not even, like, the hand… just a finger?”

“She said there’s a wart she doesn’t like…” Kira responded. “Apparently getting it frozen off never crossed her mind. I can’t just refuse her, Jones will skin us alive when he gets back from Titan…”

Mathide took a sip of the coffee, their fur standing on end. Too hot…

“But it’s a finger! What does a finger even cost?!”

“Well we know a hand costs 500 credits…” Kira said, trying to do the math in her head. “We just divide that by 6 I suppose…”

“Shouldn’t the size of the finger come into play? You know how much Jones haggles people…” Mathide said.

“Since when did you care what Jones would do?” Kira chuckled darkly, dodging the empty cup thrown at her expertly.

“So we divide 500 by 6, and charge her that?”

“Sounds like the best way to go forward.”

Mathide looked at their phone and crunched the numbers. “That’s 83.33 credits…” they said with a frown.

“Great, so that’s the price we charge.” Kira said, bending down to look at the calculator. A primitive part of her reckoned standing next to Mathide would make the numbers make sense.

“But the cheapest thing we offer is altering the growth rate of nails…” Mathide explained. “That’s 90 credits. Jones wanted to charge even more but a creditcent more and that would be illegal extortion.”

“Well we don’t have much of a choice. That fucker didn’t even think about what a finger would cost…” Kira sighed. This was the last thing she needed. “Either way, Jones will kill us…”

Mathide looked up at Kira standing over them. They could sense she was stressed. Their tail involuntarily curled around her ankle gently. It was the least they could do as a friend.

Kira smiled in return. She gave Mathide a ruffle of their ears before turning to face the door.

“Need a hand?” Mathide asked, standing up. Despite being a cat hybrid, Mathide had an excellent way with customers.

“Thanks” Kira said as the two of them emerged from the break room.

———

The procedure went surprisingly smoothly for such a hassle. The atomic replacer machine was calibrated to a hand, but the customer was asked to place only the finger into the slot. The machine could recognise what body parts were placed inside so there was no risk of the finger being replaced by a small second hand.

As Kira oversaw the procedure, she felt a pang inside her. A kind of heavy feeling that clung to her heart. People like this lady could come in for something as trivial as a finger and pay as if it was pocket change. Bodies were as valuable as toilet roll to them.

Not to Kira, though. She spent 26 years being stuck in a body she never asked for. She wasn’t skilled enough to build a machine for herself that wouldn’t blow her up or turn her into soup.

Mathide got lucky. They had a friend who was an expert biohacker. They were able to hook Mathide up with their dream body. Unfortunately, that friend left for Androma a long time ago, and Kira still had nerves about going to the unregulated biohackers, despite Mathide’s reassurances.

For now, all she could do was bide her time, watch more rich assholes get custom made fingers…

[ecargmura]

Witch Hat Atelier Volume 5 Review

This volume is so good—which is what I always say for every volume. I can’t help it. This manga is so good. The storytelling has always been amazing and even more so in this volume. This volume is the continuation and conclusion of the Second Exam arc. The first two chapters of this volumes are POV changes from Coco and Qifrey’s side to Richeh and Agott’s side but the way they all converge by the end of Chapter 27 is really good. Shirahama really knows how to pace her story well. She doesn’t drag or prolong the conflict and tries to make her characters resolve it as well as they can with their current abilities.

Chapter 24 begins with where Volume 4 left off when Coco, Qifrey and Tetia meet the Romonons. They’re statues that are still alive, and harbor a grudge against witches as they were the cause of their demise. They decide to quiz Coco and Tetia to see if a witch could be trusted. Coco realizes what they’re lacking is comfort or warmth and she gives them the snug stone that Olruggio gave to her and the statues use it and the fact that they melt was shocking. I honestly found that a really shocking twist. It could foreshadow the possible fate of Coco’s mother—or like a bad ending for her of sorts. It’s really perplexing. They managed to reunite with Alaira who was thrown into the area by the Brimhat. I really liked how Tetia and Coco worked together to solve the riddle. Tetia doesn’t have enough screen time before, so this is perfect for her. She works really well with Coco.

Chapter 25 goes back to Agott who’s trying to find a way to undo the forbidden spell. However, the invisible Brimhat takes Euini to find Coco as his goal is to find her. Richeh leaves the cave and recalls the time she was studying under a strict master who wouldn’t allow her to make her own spells. Richeh realizes that she knows that making her own spells won’t be effective in the long run but she still wants to find a way to be herself. Gosh, the fact that her previous master was abusive and the way he touched Rili’s hair was so creepy. I love that Richeh realizes that the spells one’s good at, the thoughts behind those spells and those that make up another’s weaknesses are still a part of them as witches and that she’ll still be herself even if she uses another person’s spell. I really love that Richeh came to terms with this herself and that she actually uses another person’s spell for the first time.

Chapter 26 is a bit of an intermission as the Knights of Moralis are showcased here. There are a lot of them and I honestly can’t wait to see what sort of role they’ll play in the future other than trying to get Coco’s memories erased.

Chapter 27 has it to where Qifrey finds the invisible Brimhat and tries to engage in a battle with him despite being severely injured. He leaves a wind spell scroll behind as Coco and Tetia are left behind to hide from upcoming danger; Alaira comes along with him. However, Coco and Tetia’s hiding spot doesn’t last long as Euini is thrown towards them and Agott is reunited with them. Apparently, this whole ordeal is because the Brimhats wants Coco to use Forbidden Magic in hopes of having her join them. The invisible Brimhat’s true form is revealed to be a mutant cat. I love how Shirahama writes the kids. They’re not liabilities and they know how to stay put when needed but if they need to take action, they do it.

Chapter 28 shows it even more as Shirahama gets Coco, Tetia and Agott to come up with ideas together and even come with concise plans like using the Brushbuddy to find the seal mark and trying to reverse the spell by drawing the glyph reversely. I seriously love seeing them progress. However, the main Brimhat, the one with the eyeball decoration, shows up towards the end; his name is Iguin and he wants Coco to draw a spell that can reverse the effects. Also, it seems that the mutant cat Brimhat, Sasaran, was once a regular human witch who had a pet cat. I wonder if he fused with his cat…

The final chapter for this volume, Chapter 29, shows that the kids’ efforts to reverse the spell actually worked somewhat. Euini’s consciousness is back, but he’s still stuck with the forbidden spell. Richeh gets Olruggio by using teleportation magic to bring him to the cave. When the Brimhats leave, the arc concludes on happy notes. Even though Euini still has the forbidden spell implanted on him and can only be controlled by the medallion, Alaira decides to take him in as her apprentice as they decide to hide from Witch Society until there’s a way to remove the spell. I honestly loved the moment Euini and Richeh hug. The fact that Euini was someone who wanted to become someone he’s not and Richeh was working so hard to be herself and then they learned that it’s okay to be themself (Euini) and that it’s okay to use others’ magic without losing yourself (Richeh). This scene made me shed some tears!! I hope that they’ll reunite one day! I also loved the part where Coco goes “I’ll draw what I want, thank you very much” to Iguin. I was legit cheering! Coco is such a great MC. She does not falter when being handed a possible bad choice. She just goes with what she wants.

I can’t wait to see what the next volume has in store! My copy of Volume 6 is going to arrive tomorrow, so hopefully, I can read it as soon as I can! What are your thoughts on this volume?

[theriu]

River Reads Midnight Sun

Chapter 3: Risk

In which Ed struggles with his Plot-driven feelings and Bella is almost squashed like a bug.

<-Chapter 2

(NOTE: So it occurs to me that I’ve not been clear about how hard Edward has been working to do the right thing these past couple chapters. While he has his faults, Edward and his vampire family have sworn off eating or killing humans, and he very much does NOT want to kill and eat Bella, morally speaking. He’s struggling against unusually strong vampiric urges her smell is setting off in his system, and the question of whether he should run away from his Found Family and avoid Bella for her safety, uproot his whole family from their current home if they choose to go with him, or face and overcome this trial, the face of whom the Plot has unfairly branded onto his brain. Also, Alice and Carlisle have been very supportive yet sensible, and I love them unironically.

Okay, got that off my chest! Now we can get back to mocking the teenage angst!)

So the opening scene of this chapter is genuinely nice, in my opinion. Edward and Dad Carlisle go hunting together (deer, because this family only drinks animal blood), and we get a little review of Carlisle’s concern and understanding a week ago when Ed had to leave (including how he let Ed take his car). Carlisle seems a genuinely good person (and a doctor) who fully supports Ed doing whatever is necessary to stay sane and keep from taking a life, even encouraging him to leave if that’s what it takes (despite how much they would miss him). He checks with Edward that coming back isn’t just about Ed’s pride. He’s even openly willing to go with Ed and start over somewhere else if it will spare a needless death while letting their family stay together. +100 Dad Points, Carlisle gets an award for top tier dadding.

Of course, Ed can’t quite put into words for Carlisle WHY he is now so determined to stay, other than it not being pride anymore. This is probably because it is difficult for a protagonist to describe the irresistible pull of The Plot on his affections and sensibilities. The scene changes as they go gallivanting into the woods, and Ed, now fat and unhappy on deer blood, chills by an icy river and spends more time pondering why he cares so much about this girl and why he is risking her life by staying.

I find it hilarious that HE keeps noting how his feelings make no sense. Why does he care about this girl? What about her draws him to her? Why is he unable to think about anything but her? GREAT QUESTIONS, ED! IF ONLY THE ANSWER WASN’T “YOU’RE IN A PARANORMAL ROMANCE”! The poor boy doesn't know what powers he is truly struggling against, even as he considers such self-aware drivers as his “obsessive curiosity” and “unsatisfied appetite.” However, he DOES decide he is going to follow Carlisle’s advice and leave after one more day, because he DOES want to be responsible and selfless! A fruitless determination, no doubt, but let’s give the guy some credit: That was a valiant effort to resist the unstoppable hands of plot-fate.

When he goes back to the house, he chats with Alice, who once again foresees him planning to leave. She doesn’t want him to, and NOT for romantic reasons but out of genuine sister/friend love. They have a moment of mental movie time watching her highly scattered visions about him, wherein she predicts his life is at a crossroads. He makes a joke about her sounding like a carnival fortuneteller, which is actually a good jab, well done Ed. He and Alice go get ready for school, with her still openly sad that he might leave again and making sure he knows she will miss him if he has to go. ALICE AND CARLISLE ARE REALLY NICE OKAY, HUZZAH FOR LIKEABLE CHARACTERS

Off they go to school! During which drive we learn Rosalie and Emmett are sickeningly in love, which…did NOT seem apparent in the first two chapters. Seriously, they've barely interacted onscreen so far, and Ed only mentioned that Alice and Jasper are a thing, so these two staring adoringly into each others’ eyes felt a bit outta left field. Turns out the other six vamps in this family are paired off in sweet adorable couples and Ed is the self-proclaimed grumpy old man, which amuses me greatly. Of course, Singleness Is Bad, so naturally Ed will find his soulmate, even if The Plot has to ram feelings of attraction for her down his cerebral cortex!

As the others head into school, Ed and Alice hang out by their car to watch Bella drive into the parking lot. Bella is obviously very nervous about snow-driving, which Ed realizes must mean she is Serious and Responsible. Ed finds her worry and Bambi-like clumsiness on the ice endearing, and notes when her snow tire seems to make her emotional. (???) 

Ed is working himself up to possibly go talk to her, which would be unwise and bad probably, when suddenly Alice has a VISION OF DOOM!!! In SECONDS, a van will come careening into the parking lot, and Bella will be CRUSHED LIKE A BUG!!! Woe!!! Calamity!!! Convenient!!! (Seriously, what are the odds someone would have a life-ending car accident in THIS school parking lot with ACTUAL vampire students watching, and of course the target is one vampire’s new obsession? I don’t care what the OC shows have taught us, fatal car accidents on school grounds are NOT common enough for this.)

So Ed ROCKETS into action, SWOOPING her out of the way in the nick of time! But oh no, the van is bouncing back towards them again! He’s risking exposure already, but dangit, this homicidal vehicle shall not take the girl! Edward grabs it and is slammed back, leaving a nice imprint of his shoulders on another car for his trouble. And NOW he’s stuck holding the van up because if he lets go, Bella will probably lose her legs under the tires.

Ed is so done with everything by this point, resulting in my favorite line of the book so far:

“Oh, for the love of all that was holy, would the catastrophes never end?!”

(Dangit, Ed, why can’t you always be this relatable)

Fortunately, between supermanning the van and Bella into safer positions and panicking over Bella having bonked her head on the ice, he’s able to resist his homicidal cravings, even when he tucks her neatly against him. Now he notices she is alert and seems mostly okay aside from the head bonk. To his consternation, however, she immediately asks how the heck he got over here so fast. Ed lies like a professional and badly wants to get her to Carlisle, who has ACTUAL medical experience as opposed to Ed’s “theoretical medical study” (so that answers the question of how useful Ed’s two medical degrees are). 

Despite them lying under two vehicles on ice (and Bella complaining that it’s cold when he won’t let her try and crawl out because she could have a neck injury, which YES THAT IS A REASONABLE CONCERN BELLA), Bella chooses this time to call Ed’s bluff. She is DARN CERTAIN he was OVER THERE and NOT right next to her, and Ed is NOT convincing her otherwise. He finally gets her to shush by promising to explain it later, all the while plotting to use her possible head injury to gaslight the heck out of her and everybody else into believing he was definitely standing right beside her and didn’t practically teleport.

People finally get the van away from the trapped duo, and Ed knows the registered nurse who pops up. He discloses Bella’s head injury to said nurse, and Bella acts BETRAYED, reminding Ed that she likes to suffer in silence, to which I say BELLA, POSSIBLE CONCUSSIONS ARE NOT THE KIND OF SUFFERING YOU DO IN SILENCE!!! The girl needs her head checked in MULTIPLE ways!

As Bella is humiliated over enduring standard medical care after an accident, Ed uses his foot to rearrange the reverse sculpture of his shoulders in the other car. Then Bella’s dad, the chief of police, shows up, justifiably freaked out, and Ed realizes how accurate it was when Alice said killing his only daughter would kill him. (AWW!!!) Ooo, ALSO, Ed notices Charlie Swan’s thoughts are a little hard to read! Not as much as Bella’s, but it seems this cerebral lead lining against mind radar is genetic? And here he thought Charlie was slow in the head! (Ed gets +2 points for noting that HE (Ed) was the slow one for assuming that and never noticing he actually just couldn’t hear Charlie’s thoughts clearly.)

Anyhoo, they get to the hospital, and Ed keeps a mental eye on Bella via the paramedics while he finds Carlisle. He’s ashamed he might have revealed their secret, but Carlisle is just proud of him for doing the right thing and saving the girl’s life. THEY HUG! Carlisle is the BEST, guys!!! 

After a chuckle about the irony that Ed ended up protecting the girl he was afraid he’d hurt (and Ed quietly angsting about how likely he still is to hurt her), Carlisle goes to check on Bella. Ed fidgets and watches Hospital Brainwaves TV for a while, so despite the agonizing wait, he has plenty of entertainment. Tyler, the van driver, is hurt bad and feels horrible that he almost smashed Bella, and won’t stop apologizing. To Ed’s relief, Bella is sticking to the story Edward gave about his standing right next to her, even though Tyler also didn’t see him. Ed hears Bella say his name for the first time, via Tyler’s thought-ears (???), and wishes he could hear it with his own ears! He also notices Tyler thinking about asking Bella on a date to make up for the near-death experience, and that is somehow so VERY dumb and also feels accurate to how some high school guys might think, so I can’t really argue with it. Ed, naturally, continues to struggle with the realization that his understanding of his own emotions is nowhere near as comprehensive as he’s believed for the past century.

Ed and Carlisle soon have a brief chat over Bella’s X-rays; she’s fine, although Carlisle notes how many healed fractures her skull has and jokes about how often her mom dropped her as a baby. (No, the jokes are too easy, I mustn't. He’s already claimed the best one anyway.) Ed goes on ahead to smooth things over with Bella, who is impatiently pretending to sleep in hopes Tyler will stop apologizing. She also manages to be pouty that Ed didn’t also have to endure the humiliation of a stretcher, be impatient about being asked about her head again, and deny to Carlisle that her head bump feels tender. Ed, who isn't at ALL influenced by his inexplicable sense of attraction to this girl, determines that because she doesn't like to show weakness, she is Brave. I might argue that she is showing more signs of being a self-focused pity-partyer who thinks she knows better than medical professionals and has low tolerance for petty annoyances, but who am I to disagree with the male protagonist?

Bella is released to go home with her dad, which she…doesn’t want to do? Is it going home or being with her dad that bothers her? Between being annoyed at Tyler for his understandable (if repetitive) remorse, being annoyed Edward didn’t have to be fussed over by hospital staff like she did, and apparently not wanting to hang out with her clearly concerned father, she isn’t doing the best job of earning that Selfless tag Ed gave her last chapter. She’s also highly embarrassed that, as Carlisle puts it, “most of the school seems to be in the waiting room.” Ed, on the other hand, is pleased he guessed her reaction correctly. (He’s also envious that Carlisle can touch her like a normal person and not be tempted to eat her like Ed is, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Apparently different vampires don't find the same human hyperdelicious, which is definitely a positive.)

Naturally, Bella is determined to talk about what REALLY happened before she goes home. Ed, once again gripped by the struggle of not eating her, agrees to talk it out in private. It’s time for Vampire Gaslighting! He’s determined to be mean and a jerk and make her disbelieve her own senses (despite aching for her to trust him), and then he will disappear from her life forever. It starts out pretty well, with him being cold enough that she drops her tough girl act. However, she’s still pretty dang determined and reveals just how much SUPER WEIRD STUFF she DEFINITELY NOTICED, like him leaving dents in multiple vehicles but being fine as sunshine!

Ed’s getting a bit nervous at this point and doubles down on the dismissive act, but then she startles him by saying she’s not going to tell anyone. Regaining his footing, he wants to know why it matters, then. She says she doesn't like lying, so she’d rather know the reason why she’s lying for him. I’m given brief The Princess Bride vibes as Ed essentially tells her “get used to disappointment.” 

They scowl at each other for a bit, until finally she, once again more annoyed than self-preserving, wonders why he even bothered to save her. To which he gives what he feels is his first honest reply of this conversation: "I don't know." With that, he ends the discussion by walking off dramatically, as one does.

AND SCENE!

I'd say this chapter was more interesting than the last two! Carlisle is a gem, I am ALWAYS down for a positive and supportive dad character and I will fight for this compassionate good-humored doctorpire. The exposition was SLIGHTLY less focused on Ed’s INNER TURMOIL thanks to the action scene, but don’t worry, there was still plenty of inner turmoil. Bella continues to act contrary to the definitions Ed labels her with, although I can kinda respect her refusing to be gaslighted and standing firm on what she knew she’d seen. Despite Ed’s numerous declarations that today would certainly be the last day he sees her, however, I do not hold out much hope for his success.

As we leave this chapter, here’s my recreation of the “small list” Edward is reportedly keeping of Bella’s character traits! I sure can’t wait to see what else gets added in the coming days!

Ed’s Questionable Bella Vocab List:

Advanced (See Also: Intelligent For A Human)

Selfless (See Also: Martyr)

Fascinating (See Also: Interesting, Not Like Other Humans)

Discerning (See Also: Intuitive, Perceptive)

Amusing

Serious

Responsible

Brave

Chapter 4-> (Coming Soon)

[deliciouskeys]

@cozycornerkinktober's prompt #14: Forced feminization

Private Halloween (Homelander x Maeve)

Warnings: Rated E. Top the Homelander, for the most part, although definitely some sublander, whippedlander elements and some genderfuck in case the prompt wasn't a giveaway. Precanon, set in 2014. AO3 link. Directly inspired by my favorite non-HL picture of Antony Starr:

Homelander laughs. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going out in that. What do you think the tabloids would say?”

“That you’re a fun guy with a sense of humor, maybe?” Maeve exhales smoke from her vape. Their relationship has really soured over the years, and she’s pretty sure she’s just acting purely from a place of spite nowadays, testing to see how far she can go before he decides to call it quits. Apparently he’ll tolerate a lot. It’s like he’s really in love with her or at least whatever sickening twisted version of love that his mind is capable of.

“Maeve, be serious,” he says. Oh god is he actually pleading with her? Why can’t he just see that they have nothing in common, that she’s smoking to annoy him, and that she’s specifically chosen a costume he won’t wear so she can tell him how lame and cowardly he is?

“What am I supposed to be serious about? You wearing a cheerleader costume for Halloween?”

Homelander purses his lips. “If I wear this in public they’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“Good. They’ll be right.” She’s really pushing it. She better be careful lest he decide that it’s easier to laser her in half than break up with her. But the grinding of his jaw stops and to her horror instead of walking out in a huff, he puts his hands on the bed and crawls forward, insinuating himself between her legs, nudging them apart and rubbing his cheek along one of her inner thighs. She tries to draw back but he just follows her body.

“If you really want me to, I’ll wear it. Just for you.”

Jesus, he’s in this kind of mood today? The ‘I’ll do anything for you’ knight in shining armor mode? Maeve really doesn’t understand what he sees in her. She’s not only not trying to be a good girlfriend, she’s actively acting repulsive towards him. And yet here he is, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes so she’s actually tempted to pat him on the head even though he’s a 33 year old man whom she’s seen do despicable things while out on missions together. Whom she’d already firmly said no to on the topic of marriage, despite the fear that he might kill her for it.

“What do you mean just for me? In the bedroom?” It’s not a good compromise at all, but Maeve does want to see him wear the outfit.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, making a trail of tiny kisses up her inner thigh, getting close to her boyshorts. He’s hated boyshorts ever since he found out that’s what they were called, so she wears them every day to annoy him. But he’s stopped complaining. Whatever she tries to do to annoy him, he just seems to get used to ignoring. He’s infuriatingly adaptable that way.

“Okay, fine, put it on just for me,” she says with resignation.

Homelander goes into the bathroom to change. Of all things to be weird and shy about, he still doesn’t seem to like her watching him removing the top piece of his suit. As if she doesn’t notice the contrast between the foam padded uniform and the smaller, leaner version that emerges out of that stiff structured shell unless she sees the undressing happen in front of her. Maeve wonders if she should be thankful he has never complained about any part of her body, given how many hangups he appears to have about his own.

Homelander walks out of her bathroom, red white and blue uniform on, “USA” in bold bright letters across the chest (Maeve was kind enough to at least keep that theme consistent). He’s still smoothing out the pleated skirt. Maeve has to admit the feminine getup actually makes him look muscular and manly, because even though she got a large size, his biceps are something a woman would find hard to achieve, and his calves have an unmistakably male musculature.

“Where’s the wig?” she asks.

Homelander looks up at her with a deer in the headlights look. “I… you want that too?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Maeve says coldly but gets up off the bed. “Here let me help you with the makeup too.”

Homelander follows her back into the bathroom, looking a little bit lost, probably wondering why she wants all this from him. If none of the other hints Maeve has dropped about liking women have ever sunk in, she’s sure this one won’t either. She puts the wig on him, tucking his real hair into the scratchy cheap mesh, a blond long bob with bangs and falling just below the chin. It doesn’t look half bad on him, somehow, despite being a cheap Halloween item. Maeve makes him sit down on the toilet lid and picks up her minimalist makeup bag. He doesn’t move a muscle as she does his face. She finds it surprisingly hard to do it for someone else, all her motions feeling strange when not directed by a mirror image. But she enjoys watching Homelander sit there so obediently, ramrod straight, face impassive, only moving his eyes when she instructs him to look up at the ceiling to get his upper lashes done, or to smack his lips to spread out the lipstick.

He glances in the mirror as they walk out of the bathroom but doesn’t seem to have any opinion on her work.

“Now you can eat me out,” Maeve says, spreading herself out on the bed, taking her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. Homelander’s nostrils flare– it’s yet another thing she finds disturbing about him, the fact that he can detect her arousal and visibly inhales it deeply. At least right now they’re in the privacy of her bedroom, but he’s done it when they’ve been out and about, and she was fully clothed. She’s never called him out on it, because she’s not sure he’s aware others can see him doing it, or even that he’s doing it at all.

Homelander doesn’t put any effort into acting in any way female, but when he hooks her legs over his shoulders, buries his face into her folds, and starts sucking and licking her clit like she’d taught him all those years ago, it suddenly doesn’t matter. Looking down at him in the wig and silly cheerleader outfit she can suddenly pretend this is someone else entirely, even a different gender, and it’s an amazing turnon. Maeve leans back and moans in pleasure, and Homelander redoubles his efforts, unaware of her little mental infidelity. She’s soaking his face and he, good boy that he is, doesn’t pause much at all, sometimes running his tongue further down to slurp up what’s spilling out of her, drinking it up as if he’s parched. She’s sure he wants to bury himself deep inside her, but he knows not to make a move until her say so. That’s another bit of good manners she’s trained in him.

“You’re such a good girl,” Maeve moans out, wanting to grab him by the long hair and pull but thinking better of it since the wig will probably slide right off.

Homelander doesn’t seem fazed by the particular words she's using in praise of him and reapplies himself with more fervor, sucking on a large area while still flicking his tongue across her sensitive spots. Maeve’s eyes are hazy with pleasure but she still watches the pleated skirt slide or bounce a little bit whenever Homelander has to shift to rearrange himself. She comes loudly, gripping the sheets, squeezing his head between her thighs with crushing strength. Any mortal wouldn’t survive that kind of pressure but she knows Homelander enjoys getting his head trapped in this orgasmic vise of hers.

She was going to be cruel. She was going to put on a strapon and make him get up on her cock and bounce around on it. She was going to make him do a cheerleading chant in falsetto and spell out her name and any number of other ridiculous things. But when she looks down and sees those same puppydog, now eyeliner-lined eyes looking up at her not just hopefully but lovingly, she can’t do it. He’s so clueless and pathetic, she can’t even mock him like she wants to.

“May I?” he asks, and oh how dopey and hokey he sounds with that formal question, and she can’t deny him.

Homelander picks her up with ease, and seats her on his cock as he’s standing. Maeve doesn’t like the position– all the boring aspects of missionary, but none of the comfort of being on the bed on her back. Her feet don’t even reach the floor so she’s dangling awkwardly, held up by him, at his mercy, and with a constant reminder of how weightless she is in his arms. But she won’t tell him she hates it, because that would mean she’s lied about the five hundred previous times.

“Oh Maeve,” he says, hiking her up higher so he can bury his face into her chest. Maeve sometimes wonders if he’s a boob man but has tragically resigned himself to her B cups because she’s the only one strong enough to withstand unbridled sex with him. “I love you.”

Maeve cringes. Maybe this is the one aspect where he easily take on the traditional female role– pining for a connection, openly talking about love, naively hoping it will get reciprocated even though he’s been unquestionably rebuffed. She thinks about this as he lowers her down, easily sheathing himself into her relaxed, still aroused body, fucking up into her with ugly low grunts and inelegant jerky motions. But the wig is still on, and rather than look at his twisted, pained looking approaching-O face, Maeve chooses to focus on the blond tresses framing his face bouncing to and fro with each thrust. She focuses on the tremble of his eyelashes– already dark and enviably long to start with– now garishly enhanced with mascara. And for a moment she can pretend this is a stranger, an athletic, strong, but still feminine stranger, who’s giving her the ride of her life. Maeve can’t remember the last time she came on his cock, but she beats him to the punch this time, another orgasm rocking through her and causing her entire body to shake in his grasp. He notices and grins weakly, before returning right back to his pained, scrunched up face as his own pleasure hits him.

They lie side by side in her bed afterwards, and he doesn’t make a peep about her vaping, just all smiles and cocky little winks from time to time. She didn’t realize how happy her finishing around his cock would make him.

“You make a pretty woman,” she says, trying to reemphasize what it was that revved her up so much. “Maybe you should wear that every time we have sex.”

He snorts. “Didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

“I’m bi, actually,” she says, wondering what on earth possessed her to finally tell him bluntly. Apparently she feels intent on testing how much he’ll put up with from her.

Homelander pauses, mulling over her words, and she starts to regret them, growing apprehensive. Sometimes she forgets how easily angered he can get at others, and how much damage he can do when the mood suits him. But the long pause culminates with a simple “Good one.” He won’t listen to what he doesn’t want to hear, that’s a trait she should know well by now.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Four (Part 2)

The next day I’m late for life drawing class as usual, and everyone is already laying their sketchbooks out on the floor as I burst into the studio, already halfway out of my raincoat and gloves. Ida doesn’t say anything, she just glances around at me, pauses, and then keeps talking to the rest of the class, which is obviously a thousand times worse than a scolding. I hastily unzip my bag and wrench my sketchbook out of it, only slightly wet around the edges from the torrential rain soaking through the flimsy canvas of my bag. I race over to lay it on the floor amongst the others. 

Marnie shoves a sharp elbow into my ribs as I take my place beside her, and I glance at the side of her face to see her smirking. Yes. I want to hiss. I know I keep doing this, apparently I’m just completely unable to get my life together and be a functioning person, Okay?

“Like I was saying,” Says Ida, as it dawns on me that I have interrupted her, and instantly wish I was dead. “I wanted to see improvements from all of you in the anatomy of your figures last week, so I’m very interested to see what you’ve done for today.” She bends down and begins to slowly flip through the pages of one sketchbook. “What do we think about this work?” 

“Nice sense of movement.” Says one student. 

“Yeah, the sketches of the man with the glasses are very nice.” Says another, while I desperately rack my brains for something to say. What do I think? Do I have a single opinion in my head about anything? 

Ida moves from one sketchbook to the next, and everyone discusses their work. I watch who’s speaking, and slowly, one by one, everybody eventually speaks up. Except for me. I have nothing to say. I am blank. I bring my thumbnail to my mouth and chew on it anxiously, feeling tension and shame growing inside me like a lump in my gut. 

She reaches for a sketchbook full of dark, confident lines, and I know immediately who it belongs to. I watch as she flips through the pages, all moody sketches of silhouettes in windows, backlit by street lamps, a whole page filled with a scratchy portrait of a man in a jacket, hard lines and planes on his face. 

“They’re good.” I force myself to say, at last. My voice seems to echo extra loudly in the studio and I have never been more aware of myself but I push through the fear. “But I think they’re messy. The anatomy is lost among all the smudges. I wish they were done much neater.” I glance up to meet Dean Cullen’s eyes, and quirk my eyebrow at him. How do you like it? I want to tell him. Doesn’t feel that good, does it? 

Ida says my opinion is fair, and we spend some time discussing it, but I’m not really listening. I’m focussed on the way my body feels, the way the blood is coursing through me, the slight weakness in my legs from the adrenaline of speaking out for the first time in front of the class and taking Dean’s work down all in one fell-swoop. 

I never prepared for what would happen when we got to my sketchbook however, and as soon as Ida starts leafing through its soggy pages I find myself stricken with anxiety. I keep my eyes on Dean the whole time as the class discusses my work, waiting for him to come up with something, watching the gears in his head turn, formulating whatever unhelpful, unconstructive comment he’s about to spew. 

He finally opens his annoying little mouth. “Nice, as usual, but needs more refinement in the hands. Would have liked to have seen more detail.”

Doesn’t he know how hard hands are? I make a scoffing sound, out loud, and then immediately burn up with embarrassment as a few faces turn to stare at me. Dean is looking too, a questioning look on his face as though he doesn’t quite get my indignation. If Ida hears, however, she ignores it and starts telling me about how to draw hands in a more considered way, which I only half listen to, because I can’t keep my eyes from flitting back and forth between the sketchbook and Dean. I loathe him. I decide. He must be the most irritating man alive. 

During the afternoon in the computer lab I listen intently to our lecturer guiding us through the steps of creating an image from scratch in Photoshop, when I hear the sound of computer chair wheels glide towards me across the floor. I assume it’s Marnie, coming to start some conversation that’s not even loosely connected to the classwork, so I prepare to shrug her off immediately. All these menus have me confused enough, I don’t need to add some post she read on Tumblr to my mental load. 

“Can it wait until after?” I whisper tightly with eyes glued to the screen. Where the hell is the Modify menu? 

“Eh, not really.” Comes the response, and I’m immediately thrown by the male voice. My hand practically spasms off the mouse and I whirl around to face Dean, altogether too much into my personal space, slumped back in his chair and idly spinning himself from side to side. 

“Oh.” I say, then pause, unsure what to say. “Did you want something?”

“I’m lost.” He admits. “I’m not that great with, like, the tech stuff. I saw that you kind of looked like you knew what you were doing so I was hoping I could take the computer beside you and look in on your screen.”

“Well I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

“It seems like you know more than I do.” He wheels into the empty desk beside me and boots up the computer. I stare at him the whole time in bewilderment. Doesn’t he realise that we hate each other? Or is he just messing with me? 

I turn back to my screen and try to ignore him, but the lecturer is already talking about something else. Now I have to find the expand button. God damn it, where’s the expand button? What the hell does that do? The way that Dean clicks and clacks on his keyboard is about ten times louder than the way any normal person does it. And he sniffs really loudly. And his giant stretched out jumper smells like cigarettes and the inside of a charity shop. 

He leans over to me. “Where’s modify?”

“I don’t know.” I hiss. “I was trying to find it when you interrupted me.” 

He goes back to clicking for a few minutes, and when he nudges me gently with his elbow, I’m forced to look at him. He looks like a TV villain. No good hearted men have faces like that, or hair bleached that horrendous shade of Slim Shady blonde. He looks like he should be riding around town with his car windows down and his middle fingers up. “It’s in the select menu.” He advises. “You go Select > Modify > Expand.” 

“Thanks” I say, begrudgingly following his directions, which are tragically correct, and go back to following the lecturers demonstration, but it isn’t long before Dean starts talking again. 

“I like your drawing.” He whispers, nodding towards my digital line work of a girl floating in space with Saturn for a head, and his compliment makes my heckles rise. “Oh, do you actually?” I whisper back accusingly, which seems to take him aback. 

“Eh… Yes?” 

“Hm. Alright.”

“Why? Do you think it’s shit or something?”

“No, I’m just surprised you don’t have anything smart to say about it.” 

“I can say it’s shit if you want.”

“You might as well, sure you always say that about my other work.”

There is a long pause, where I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s turned to stare at me, but can’t bear to meet his gaze. I go on clicking around through all the menus so that I can look unbothered, and it seems like an age before he decides to speak again. “I think you must be talking about the life drawing critique sessions.” He leaves that statement hanging in the air as if he expects me to respond to it, but I just ignore him and drag my mouse through the colour wheel, trying to decide what shade of navy blue I should make the sky. I shouldn’t have to say anything. It’s obvious. 

He sighs. “You know it’s just critique, it’s not as if it’s a personal attack on you.”

“It’s more than a critique.” I bite back. “It’s rude. The way you talk about my work is rude, that’s just what I think and how it comes across to me.”

“Would you prefer if I said it was perfect?”

I turn to him to launch into a response, but the lecturer beats me to it. “Dean and Evelyn at the back there, please, if you want to continue your conversation can you please do it outside the classroom?” 

I snap my mouth shut and spin back around to my monitor. If I still had long hair, I would have flipped it over my shoulder right about now. He can rot. 

Prev // Next

[batneko]

another thread I did on twitter!

-

tatsuking streamer AU where King is kind of accidentally living three lives. King, who streams with a facecam and never flinches and draws people in by just being That Damn Good. A catgirl vtuber avatar which is where he streams for FUN and can actually be himself.

And his PRIVATE private account where he is a high roller donor and always funds Tatsumaki's "if we reach this ridiculous amount of money I will wear this sexy halloween costume for the rest of the- WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE HIT IT ALREADY? Y'all are pervs. Thank you." tier.

Tatsumaki has only been streaming for about a year. She quit her job because she hated it, and got a gently-used camera and mic from her beauty blogger sister, figuring why not give it a try? Can't hurt. And she'll find a "real" job eventually.

It took a while for her to find an audience but luckily she already knew how to protect her privacy and manage a chat thanks to Fubuki. When she started getting donations she was like "I guess I better make goals as incentives for people to KEEP giving money"

The old halloween costume was supposed to be a joke. She NEVER thought she'd reach that tier. Now she's got a rotating wardrobe of custom-made costumes, and accessories and apparently calling the donors perverts is NOT a deterrent.

She actually knows King. The first time she reached out to him to ask who made his vtuber avatar, since the pervs funded another "joke" tier. And King feels weird about it, but he instantly fell for her even more bc she's the FIRST one to EVER realize his accounts are both him.

It's not a secret! He doesn't TRY to hide it! It's just that nobody seems to ever make the connection, no matter how similar their names are, or that they stream on alternate days, or link each other all the time.

They've done vtuber streams together a few times, but never a facecam one, since their playstyles are too different. King decided to make sure Tatsumaki heard his real voice not his pitch-shifted character voice while they played together. It was scarier than he thought it'd be.

Granted, it's not like Tatsumaki would ever KNOW King is one of her donors. She doesn't do private chats or anything like that, so she's never heard his voice before. But King is still terrified she'll find out and think he's a creep. But he's too scared to TELL her either.

It's a rock and a hard place! If he tells her, she'll never want to be friends with him (or maybe more? No, no, not a chance in hell. Better to not even daydream about that). But if they become friends and she finds out he DIDN'T tell her, she'll hate him even more.

They eventually meet in person at a convention (where Tatsumaki is wearing normal clothes) and she immediately starts bullying him. "Why are you so tall?" "I don't know... My dad's tall?" "Well tell him to stop it." "O- okay."

She notices how uncomfortable he seems with the crowds, and the way he's trying to hunch in on himself. "Is this why your avatar's a tiny catgirl? Would you be happier if you weren't gigantic?" "I don't think so. I'm happy with my body, just not the way other people perceive it."

Tatsumaki says "Oh, mood," and promptly attaches herself to his side for the rest of the con.

At a panel about vtubing, King wears a cardboard mask of his character and speaks with his normal voice, but still no one makes the connection between him and Serious Gamer King. They're at the same convention! He was JUST on another panel!

Tatsumaki drags King to one of her panels (he has yet to realize she is intentionally protecting him from getting overwhelmed) and the topic of being a Female Streamer and dealing with horny donors comes up. She says yeah, it's weird, and a lot of them are creeps.

(King is quietly dying inside) But, she says, the ones who donate a LOT are actually really nice and respectful. It's only the ones who donate one or two dollars who act like assholes. As if she should be GRATEFUL for their pocket change. The high rollers are total gentlemen.

That evening Tatsumaki asks if King's going to the streamer afterparty. "I'm almost thirty," he says. "If I don't get enough sleep I can't function the next day." "Oh mood," Tatsumaki says again. "We could... go up to my hotel room? For our OWN afterparty." "Like, watch a movie?"

Tatsumaki stares at him for a moment. King just looks confused. "...sure, movie sounds good."

They exchange numbers after the con and go their separate ways. King would have counted the weekend an overwhelming success if it wasn't for Tatsumaki's stream a few days later. He's watching. She's wearing a cute costume he helped pay for. Everything is perfect. And she says -

"I have to tell you guys what happened this weekend. Wait, hang on." She checks something on her monitor. "Okay he's not watching. So I was hitting on this dude HARDCORE like, the whole time." That's weird. Wasn't she with King the whole con? Did it happen during his panels?

"And he's one of those guys, you know, who are super tall AND super shy? So cute." Wait a minute. "And I straight up asked him up to my hotel room, and he goes, 'to watch a movie?'" WAIT A MINUTE.

"I wasn't sure if he was rejecting me or just really didn't understand what I meant, so I said yeah. And guess what we watched. Guess. You'll never guess. That Doom movie from 2005 with Bones and The Rock." King has collapsed to the floor and is hyperventilating.

"Anyway I'm PRETTY sure he honestly did not realize I was trying to bang him, which is adorable but a little frustrating. I got his number. I'm thinking I'll send him pictures of me in cute outfits and ask what he thinks until I drive him insane with lust, that usually works."

King is lying on the floor for a solid twenty minutes before his phone buzzes and it's a picture of Tatsumaki in her latest maid dress (it's pink) tilted artfully to give a peek down the neckline, asking what he thinks. He sends a thumbs-up emoji and goes back to the floor.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

What If I Told You I’m A Mastermind? (Part Two)

A/N: Happy day three of @nestaarcheronweek​ aka the most wonderful time of the year, am I right? ;) You already know that for today’s Witchy theme, I had to post the next part of my Witchy Nesta series with more mastermind Bryaxis! Hope everyone enjoys :) 

Part One

“Oh, Mater me audi… Invoco te—”

A knock on the front door draws Nesta out of her focus mid-incantation, and she can’t suppress her frustrated groan at the intrusion. She glares at the large, oak door like that will make a difference, will make the intruder on the other side disappear, before turning her ire toward the rest of the walls. What was the point of all her wards and protection charms if the House just decided to blatantly ignore them and not inform her when someone was approaching?

A deep breath to calm the fire licking along her veins, the anger threatening to flare and bubble over, and Nesta makes quick work to blow out her candles. She walks over to the front door, yanking it open and finding that same man from the other day standing there. His hair isn’t pulled back like before; instead it hangs in dark curls across his shoulders, framing his face and the wide, friendly grin he offers Nesta. Now that he’s standing close to her and not on the sidewalk, she realizes his eyes are hazel, a forest floor of mossy green vines and golden flecks that glint in the autumn sun overhead. And he’s big, stands almost a head taller than her with a wide chest and an even wider set of shoulders.

And curled up against that wide chest is a bundle of all too familiar black fur.

It seems almost at odds with the man’s hulking frame, how gently he cradles Bryaxis. But his hands do just that, the large spread of them covering almost the entirety of the cat’s body. Nesta can’t help but wonder if that’s playing a role in Bryaxis’s apparent fascination with this man. This Cassian as he introduced himself last time.

“Sorry,” Cassia begins, holding out Bryaxis toward her. “Your cat was at my place again. I think he got the houses mixed up or something. He was pawing at my door for some reason.”

Nesta just barely reins in her sigh and eye roll. Of course, this man thinks it’s just some silly mixup, has no idea how powerful that bundle of fur in his arms truly is. Nesta isn’t fooled for a second. Not even when Bryaxis gives his best pitiful meow and bats big, wide, innocent eyes. She knows this game he thinks he’s playing, and if he keeps it up, perhaps she’ll threaten to turn him into a crow. She’d like to see him knock at this Cassian’s window then.

Still, Nesta plasters on what she hopes is her best imitation of a friendly expression and takes Bryaxis from him. “Thank you. He does love to wander sometimes. I’ll just have to keep him in the house until he gets sorted out.”

Bryaxis lets out a low growl that Nesta knows means he understood the underlying promise, the underlying threat, in her words. Nesta wants to feel pride, to smirk, at the reaction she garnered, but she finds herself too distracted by the way Cassian chuckles. The low, rumbled sound skates along her skin like the lick of a flame, somehow warm and inviting in its melody. He pushes a hand up and through his tangle of hair, and despite the deep red sweater he’s wearing, it still draws attention to the flex of the muscles of his arm.

“I didn’t catch your name last time,” Cassian says, his smile softening into something that almost looks like nerves.

Bryaxis bumps his head against Nesta’s hand, drawing her back to the present, and she clears her throat. “It’s Nesta.”

“Nesta.”

He says her name like a lover's caress, like it’s his own incantation he’s breathing life into. It’s dangerous. Everything about this Cassian feels dangerous. It’s the way Nesta feels so drawn to him, his light beckoning her in closer and closer. It's his warmth and his easy grins curling around her wrists, around that space between her ribs and tugging. It’s the way that all the way down to her very soul, Nesta seems to respond to him, seems to know him.

It’s terrifying and dangerous.

“Well, thank you again,” Nesta cuts in before this conversation can go anywhere else. “For bringing Bryaxis back.”

Nesta doesn’t miss the disappointment that flashes across Cassian’s expression for a moment, the way the corners of his smile slips just that small amount. “Yeah, of course. It was nice to meet you, Nesta.”

“You as well.”

Nesta is quick to step back into her home, closing the door behind her. She sets Bryaxis back down on the ground and leans back against the wood, listening carefully. It takes a few moments, the silence itself seeming to wait with bated breath, but then she hears Cassian’s feet on the steps of her porch. It’s only when she feels the slight shift in her wards that she knows he’s truly gone, that she turns her attention back to Bryaxis.

“Seriously?” Nesta asks, crossing her arms across her chest and settling the cat with an unimpressed stare.

She knows she should be used to the way Bryaxis never balks from anything she’s ever thrown the his way, but it doesn’t stop his nonchalance from prickling against her already frayed nerve ending, from fanning the flames of her earlier frustration. He doesn’t even look in her direction, simply continues to sit there in the front entryway and lick at his paw. When Bryaxis gets up and decides to merely trod into the other room, Nesta has finally had enough.

“I didn’t realize you were so keen on being a common house pet,” Nesta calls after him, following him to where the remnants of her earlier work still remain.

That catches Bryaxis’s attention, has him turning his head to glare at Nesta. The message is clear, but Nesta doesn’t back down. Instead, she smirks, raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Do you enjoy getting good, little pets? Warm milk?”

Bryaxis bares his teeth, letting out a soft growl, and Nesta knows that she’s hit her mark. Nesta hopes that’s officially the end of that now, but then Bryaxis is hopping up onto the table where her witch's book is laid out. He paws at the pages, flipping through the book with ease before looking up at Nesta expectantly. With a soft sigh, Nesta steps closer. He’s turned to the page about familiars, and Nesta reads where his paw currently sits.

“That man doesn’t have a lick of magic in him,” Nesta argues exasperatedly. “So what exactly are you ‘guiding’ me to, hmm?”

The look Bryaxis settles her with has Nesta bristling. She’s never been on the receiving end of that look, and she certainly doesn’t appreciate the implication. She lets out a huff, tugging the book away from Bryaxis and flipping back to the page she was on originally.

“How about we focus on the task at hand instead.”

~ * * * ~

It’s the third day of the house arrest that Nesta has implemented on Bryaxis when she can hear him pawing at the wood of the front door. He lets out his most pitiful meow of protest, but Nesta merely rolls her eyes, returning to the mix of herbs she’s currently steeping. It’s only when she hears the soft snick of the door opening that Nesta looks up in alarm.

Sure enough, the front door sits open, Bryaxis darting out in a blur of black fur. Nesta can do nothing but gape, the door falling shut behind Bryaxis as though nothing occurred. Nesta’s grip on the rosemary in her hand tightens until the sprigs are crushed between her fingers, but at the moment, Nesta can’t find it in herself to care. Instead, she glowers up at the ceiling.

“So, you’re in on this too?” Nesta asks accusingly to the House.

Of course, the House has no response, and Nesta can do nothing but roll her eyes and wait for the inevitable knock at her door. What is surprising, is how little time it takes before that knock comes.

“I’m beginning to think that your cat really likes me,” Cassian greets teasingly when Nesta opens the door, setting Bryaxis down at their feet.

“I’m beginning to think you keep giving him treats to keep him coming back,” Nesta shoots back, earning another laugh from Cassian.

“Unfortunately not, but perhaps I’ll have to start doing that, so I have more of an excuse to see and talk to you regularly.”

The words are so honest and practically dripping with suggestion that Nesta doesn’t even have time to swallow down the heat that creeps up her neck, promising to settle along her cheeks. She can do nothing but blink at Cassian, and the reaction only seems to spur him on. There’s no denying the amusement that sparks in his hazel eyes, the way he smirks and leans against the doorframe of the open front door.

“Are you looking for an excuse?” Nesta asks, once she finds her voice again.

“Always,” Cassian answers without hesitation, even going so far as to throw Nesta a wink. “Although really I’m looking for an excuse to ask if you’d want to get drinks sometime. There’s this great bar just downtown. They have a good selection of food and drinks, and they even do live music on Saturdays.”

Bryaxis lets out a meow at Cassian’s suggestion, batting his head against Nesta’s shins as he weaves between her legs. Even the House seems excited at the prospect, lights flickering on and off inside. The reaction has Cassian’s eyebrows pinching slightly in confusion, and he tries to peer around Nesta’s shoulder and inside to see what’s happening. Nesta is quick to step into the path of his attention though.

“Alright,” Nesta agrees before Cassian can ask any probing questions. “But just drinks and no live music.”

Cassian bites his lip, clearly trying to keep down his answering, wide grin, but it can’t hide the brightness that overtakes the hazel of his eyes, the crinkles that appear beside them. “So Friday then? I can pick you up.”

“Friday works for me.”

“Great. I’ll see you then, Nes.”

Nesta retreats back inside, but a satisfied and boastful meow from her feet has her rolling her eyes and has her calling out to both the House and Bryaxis, “I hope you’re both happy now.”

The curtains fly open in response, and for a moment, Nesta is confused by the House’s answer, until she spots Cassian walking down the sidewalk, watches the way he has a skip in his step and punches the air in celebration. There’s no stopping the smile that blooms across Nesta’s face then.

—

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[theladyragnell]

luck magic, new leverage <3

(This uses worldbuilding I wrote in an original ficlet years ago, so if you like, you can check that out right HERE.)

Parker is Lucky but not lucky, a difference she still doesn’t understand sometimes. It seems stupid that the Luck she knows, the odds she plays (but not too much, because cheating makes everything less fun), aren’t the same thing as the kind of luck where good things happen to you without you having to change the odds.

There are a lot of thieves like her. The people that become Leverage, she knows them by reputation, because she hears the stories about the way events bend around them. She knows that Hardison has to try fewer passwords to get into a network than anybody else, that Sophie can always guess just who to be, that Eliot plays the odds about where a bullet will be and has watched him, with the right reason, walk through a field of them like he’s dancing. But they’re not lucky, like she’s not lucky: they lose people, screw up when they don’t know what odds they’re playing.

“Happy,” Eliot replies when she says so one night early on, face twisted like it is when she says something that isn’t normal even for people like them. “The word you’re looking for is happy.”

Parker scowls at him. “No, I mean lucky, because I mean whether things happen to make us happy or not is random. Or at least I never felt anyone playing the odds when bad things happened to me.”

“Nana always said chance and Luck aren’t the same thing,” says Hardison with a shrug. “Sometimes she said that Luck often comes to people life is hard on. I’m more focused on the future. I know how to play the odds these days.”

“Touch wood, man, that’s the kind of thing Lucky people say before they burn themselves out,” says Eliot.

Parker listens to them bicker, still undecided how she feels about it, but glad that for once she’s got other people around as Lucky as she is.

*

They don’t change each other’s odds. It’s a rule as hard and fast as “Don’t con your crew,” which means that sometimes Sophie ignores it, or Hardison pushes at the edge as a joke, but for the most part, they don’t do it, at least not on purpose.

A lot of Lucky people working close together, though, that tends to bend things. They don’t do it on purpose, but things start working out for them, when there’s no reason not to. Parker wins a box of chocolates in a random drawing without trying (not that she would have tried, she would have stolen a box and then left the payment later since it’s a small business and Eliot yells at her about that). Hardison orders groceries online and they accidentally put in twice the amount of orange soda. Eliot finds some weird hippie hair thing that makes his hair smell nice and does something he apparently likes at a farmer’s market. And it’s not isolated incidents, it’s just life: green lights and discounts and cool new safes in marks’ closets, all coming together without Parker making it.

Parker likes it, she kind of has to like it because it’s good, but it makes her nervous. She thinks it makes Eliot nervous too, but not as much Hardison. He’s always been a little luckier than they were, with Nana.

“I can’t decide if I like my Luck doing things without me wanting it to,” she tells Hardison and Eliot one day early in the time they’re in Portland. “I use it for jobs, and now all this is happening.”

“I like nice things happening,” says Hardison, rolling his eyes. “I don’t feel anyone tugging on the odds, so maybe it’s just chance actually working out for us for once.”

“But people say if a lot of Lucky people spend time together, odds turn in their favor.” Parker frowns, tries to find the words. They listen. They’re pretty good about listening, these days, waiting for her to figure out how to say what she needs to say. She’s lucky to have them, and not just Lucky. “If we split up, do things go back to being bad? I’d already be sad if we did, I don’t want to lose out on free chocolate too.”

Eliot grips her shoulder for a second before letting go, and Hardison offers his hand for her to hold. She takes it. “Nothing’s gonna split us up,” says Eliot. “Not for long. I’ll play whatever odds I have to, to make sure that happens.”

“What he said,” says Hardison.

It doesn’t quite fix this worry, but then again, a lot of the reasons Parker feels happy these days aren’t about chocolate or soda or hair care. They’re about her team. Knowing they’ll fight to get back to her helps.

*

When Hardison is gone, off on one of the jobs that only he can do, things always feel a little harder.

Which is stupid, Parker knows that. She and Eliot and Sophie are just as Lucky as ever. Harry’s a lot Luckier than any lawyer should be, and Breanna wouldn’t have survived a week in Hardison’s job if she weren’t as Lucky as he is. So it’s the same amount of Luck around, but it still feels like things aren’t easy, and she doesn’t know how much of that is missing him and how much of it is that her favorite cereal company goes out of business.

“Damn it,” Eliot says, exhausted, coming back home after a job, the last one since they all take separate flights. “Every leg of that trip got delayed.”

“You didn’t try to change the odds?”

“Couldn’t pull them enough without tipping someone off.”

She frowns. “That kind of thing wouldn’t happen with Hardison around.”

“No, but I wasn’t going to call him in space just to make him fiddle around with the control towers.”

“No, I mean—if he were on this job, it wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have had to fix it.”

Eliot stares at her for a second, and then he sighs. “Nobody can be lucky all the time. You think I didn’t get delayed flights when he was still around? We just notice the bad luck more without him around, that’s all.”

“You said,” she says, and stops, tries to figure it out. “You said one time that the kind of luck that isn’t Luck is just happiness. You mean like that?”

His face softens into a smile. “Yeah, Parker. I know better what you meant these days, but I still think it’s about what we notice. Easy to notice things going wrong without Hardison going around. And you know he plays the odds to make things a little easier on us sometimes, even when it’s risky. Want to give him a call, let him know I’m home safe? What are the odds he’s free right now?”

“Pretty low,” says Parker, and puts her arm around his shoulders while she changes them.

[somewhat-intelligent]

Gravel and Honey and Sin

Flufftober Day 8: Rainy Day

@flufftober

(Read on AO3)

Rated: Mild T

WC: 538

Judy stands at the window, arms crossed and a frown on her face as rain pelts the glass and trickles down—drop purling to drop in chaotic rivulets.

Across the yard, a branch snaps in the wind, and Judy’s frown deepens.

She’d pulled herself out of bed two hours early this morning with one simple goal in mind: go for a run before heading to the hospital.

Instead, she’s stood here in her bedroom watching her plans wash away in a downpour because, apparently, it doesn’t matter how many incredible advancements humanity has made (they’ve colonized another planet, for Christ’s sake), accurately predicting the weather is still beyond the scope of available science.

“‘Partly cloudy’ my ass,” she mutters.

The rain continues its incessant whipping, and Judy considers her second option: the treadmill. It’s right downstairs, and the workout library can replicate the exact route she planned to take anyway. But... It just isn’t the same. She much prefers running outdoors, in fresh, open air.

She’s up now, though, and it seems a waste to do nothing.

Judy huffs a breath, unable to decide. Her running clothes taunt her from the closet.

“Come back to bed...”

Don’s morning-deep voice draws her from her wallowing.

She turns from the cold, uninviting morning outside, to him—only half-covered by sheets, his exposed skin undoubtedly warm and tempting to be touched—then back to the window. To the lashing rain, and dangerous sway of the trees.

Frowning at the gray once more, she flicks the blinds a bit harder than necessary, shutting out the source of her irritation.

An irritation that begins to ebb the moment she sinks beneath the sheets, and into Don’s arms.

“It wasn’t even supposed to rain today,” she sighs.

“I know...” Don pulls her closer until her back is flush against his bare chest. As warm as she knew he would be. “But this is a nice alternative, isn’t it?”

The scratch of his stubble and softness of his lips grazing her shoulder sends a pleasant shiver up her spine. She covers his arms with her own, wrapping them tighter, nestling deeper as their legs intertwine.

“Mm. It’s okay, I guess,” she teases softly.

Don chuckles through another kiss to her neck, and slips one hand free from hers, trailing his fingertips up her arm. Ghosting from wrist to shoulder, shoulder blade to ribs, and lower, to glide under her tank top. He follows the curve of her hipbone down, and spreads his palm low on her stomach, drawing her body to meld even farther into his. As close as possible. Judy’s thighs press together at the motion, and she can’t help the soft moan that escapes her throat as she gently writhes against him, encouraging, desperate.

Like an echo to the slow, aimless drift of his lips on her nape, he caresses every chaste inch of her he can reach, setting her alight in ways only he ever could.

“Don...”

She feels his pleased smile drag up the side of her neck, and his breath flows heavily against her ear as his fingers edge downward now.

“If you still want that exercise, Princess...” His tone is gravel and honey and sin. “I’ve got a few ideas...”