#i got a few new followers recently and noticed some old mutuals hanging around again so picture this as me waving at you from across the bus

[wayfinder]

it's been years since i last made a true, "hi i'm talking" post on this blog but. hi! my dash is a little more active than it used to be! hope you're all doing well 💙

[auburnaudry]

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 1:

A/N: So this is the first time I have ever written literally anything. If you have any suggestions or feedback just let me know! I kinda want to make this a series, so if you are interested or have any suggestion on where to take this story I’m all ears!

Next Chapter —>

Summary: You and Matthew had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated. (Flashbacks are in italics.)

Word count: 3293 words

It was really late at night and you just wanted to get your son to sleep. Him being only 3 months old, it was hard to get a consistent sleep schedule going, especially when you were sharing custody with someone who lives a completely different lifestyle than you.

After spending two nights with his father, your sons usual 10 minute bedtime routine turned into a long, drawn out, difficult ordeal, that you would be trying to correct for the next week. And once he was finally adjusted back to your routine, he was off to stay with his father again to continue the never ending cycle.

You rocked Reign in his chair for almost 40 minutes and finally settled him down enough to lay him back in his crib. You reached over to the changing table and turned the sound machine on, hoping that it would put him to sleep for even just a little while. You needed a break from the loud crying.

Walking over to the dresser sitting by the door, you grab the baby monitor and walked out towards the kitchen.

You mindlessly stared at your phone as you made your way down the hall. Distracted by your new notifications, you hadn’t noticed the handsome young man still sitting at your island waiting for you to return.

“Y/n/n”

“Oh my god, Matthew you scared me” you shouted, dropping your phone as your body jumped slightly from the shock of seeing someone unexpected in your apartment.

“I thought you left already, what are you still doing here” you continued as you picked your phone up off the ground, checking to make sure the screen wasn’t cracked.

You were caught off guard and slightly confused because Matt always left right after dropping your son off. You two had an arrangement that worked, minimal interaction that only revolved around your son. So when Matt was still lingering around your apartment almost and hour after dropping your son off, you couldn’t help but let your mind travel to the worst case scenario.

“Did something happen today with Reign?” You asked before he had a chance to respond to your first question.

You and Matt had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil-ish and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated.

“You should have been honest with me from the start then” you screamed at your boyfriend. You had been arguing for what felt like forever with no end in sight.

“I didn’t know what I wanted at the time y/n” he calmly responded “Fuck, I still don’t even know what I want, but I know its not fair to you, to keep going the way we are”. You two had been talking about where you see your relationship going in the future and this was the first time Matthew was really opening up to you.

As much as you begged Matt to express his emotions more over the course of your relationship, this time you wished he had kept them to himself.

“Y/n, you want to take the next step in this relationship and I’m not ready. I don’t know why I’m not ready but you are and I can’t hold you back.” Matthew sounded so sincere that you almost believed this was what you wanted too. “You need someone who is gonna take that step with you” key word was almost.

The past couple of weeks you had been hinting that you wanted to move in with Matt. You loved him and were sure you wanted to start the next chapter of your life with him. You never thought in a million years this would be his reaction but maybe you pushed him too much? Or maybe this was inevitable and he wasn’t looking at you as a long term investment. Whatever the reason, you now regretted even bringing it up.

“Okay, so two years down the drain I guess” you said as you rolled your tear filled eyes. His face fell at your words, he truly did love you and just wanted you to be happy. You were looking for forever and he admitted to not being ready for that kind of commitment. Instead of continuing a relationship that seemed to be at a stand still, the only option at this point was to end it. You weren’t going to sit there and beg him, you had too much pride to do that.

“I’ll just pack my shit and go” you walked past him to his bedroom to collect all the things that no longer belonged in his space. You almost expected him to follow after you, to fight for your relationship, but he didn’t, which hurt your heart even more. So you continued to pack up the things that had migrated from your apartment to his over the two years of being together. Your thoughts were now consumed with figuring out how you were going to move on and find someone to spend the rest of your life with, while he continued to live the bachelor lifestyle he was all so famous for.

Even though you rarely voiced it in your two years of being together, you were madly in love with him and broken hearted that he wasn’t willing to put in the effort to make your relationship work. You left his bedroom and made your way down the hallway, past the living room where Matthew was still sat, and out the front door with your bags in tow. You didn’t bother glancing back at him, out of fear you might do or say something you would regret.

2 weeks later…

You woke up and still hadn’t gotten your period. Your period had never been even a day late since you got it back in the 7th grade, so waking up for a 4th day in a row with no period, was worrisome. You didn’t think there was even a chance you were pregnant since you were on birth control, so you made an appointment with your gyno to ensure everything was okay. You were convinced it was just the stress of your recent breakup that was causing this irregularity in your cycle, but you couldn’t be sure without getting checked out first.

...

You pulled up to your doctors office for your appointment feeling extremely anxious. You just wanted to get it over with so you could stop stressing and go back to feeling sorry for yourself for getting broken up with.

You sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. You scrolled through Instagram and somehow found yourself on Matthew’s page. It was definitely an unhealthy habit you had picked up since splitting. You couldn’t help it though, he was following new ig models everyday and in a sick way, you liked to compare yourself to them. It was a reminder that you weren’t what Matt wanted and Matt couldn’t be what you wanted anymore.

“y/n y/l/n” you looked up from your phone as your name was called “We’re ready for you”

You followed the nurse back to a bathroom located right next door to the exam room you usually got checked out in. The nurse handed you a cup to pee in, as you usually did at these types of appointments, and instructed you to change into a gown in exam room #2 once you finished up in the bathroom.

After you changed into the gown, the nurse came back to collect your sample and left you sitting on the exam table as you scrolled on your phone again, waiting for Dr. Cooper to come in.

“Y/n, congratulation you’re pregnant” Dr. Cooper walked in holding your charts. You had been going to Dr. Cooper since you were 16 and you had built a nice relationship through the years, talking about your personal lives and future plans during appointments. He was aware of your long term relationship with Matthew and by his enthusiastic tone and happy energy, it was clear that he was unaware of your recent breakup. You obviously didn’t expect him to know, the breakup was new and you only see him a couple times out of the year.

You couldn’t even process the news or anything else Dr. C had to say after that. Everything went fuzzy and it felt like you were in some crazy nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. The only thing you did hear him say was that he expected you to be 8 weeks along from the information you told him and the ultrasound he performed.

You were a traditional person and always imagined you would be married or at least in a committed relationship before getting pregnant, so this entire situation had you in shock.

You were so numb from the news that you continued on throughout your day as normal, unsure of what else to do. But as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building, you rushed to get inside so you could finally breakdown and feel everything you had pushed aside for the past few hours.

You were silently praying your roommate wasn’t home when you walked through the door of your shared apartment so you didn’t have to face anyone. To your dismay, she was sitting in the living room calling for you when you walked through the door.

You hadn’t told her that you and Matthew broke up because you were so ashamed that the man you thought you’d spend the rest of you life with , didn’t feel the same way for you. The past 3 weeks you had been pretending Matt was away on a road trip or too busy with hockey to hang out whenever she asked about him. At this point you needed to get this off you chest so you walked right into the living room, sat down next to her, and unloaded the entire story before she even had the chance to say hello. As you spoke, her face turned from confusion to concern.

“Kay idk what to do, I don’t even want to tell him because I don’t need his help, but i feel icky when I think about having his baby and keeping it a secret.” You guys were talking through what you were gonna do about the situation.

Kaylee was the perfect person to ask because she also knew Matthew really well! Kaylee was the one who introduced you to Matt in the first place almost 3 years ago. They continually ran into each other while out at bars and talked so often they eventually became good friends. Being Kaylees best friend, you were later introduced to Matthew at a bar and you guys hit it off right away. You became really close friends and later started dating after a typical drunk love confession.

“And you’re definitely sure it’s Matt’s? Like there’s no chance it’s someone else’s right?”

“Yes of course I haven’t talk to anyone since the breakup, let alone slept with anyone!”

“I just want to make sure cause you didn’t even tell me you guys broke up, I wasn’t sure if I was missing any other important parts of the story” she paused for a second giving you a sympathetic look. The father was indisputable since you had only been with one man in the last two years.

“he’s a good guy y/n/n, I think he will be really understanding and a good father, it’s important you tell him, him and his family would want to know” She was right, she always is.

Before your talk with Kaylee, you fully prepared yourself to raise the baby on your own and expected nothing from Matthew. But when you thought about his family, a family that you had become a part of in the two years you were together, you couldn’t help but think of how disappointed they would be if they ever found out that you kept a part of them a secret. You had become extremely close with Brady and Taryn and their parents treated you like one of their own. They loved you and would unconditionally love your child, it wasn’t fair to them and more importantly, it wasn’t fair to your baby to keep them apart.

...

After a week of thoroughly thinking through all your options, you finally took Kaylees advice and reached out to Matt. You almost hoped he wouldn’t see your message or he would see it and just ignore it since you two hadn’t communicated since the breakup.

Y/n:

Hey Matty, it’s y/n, I’m not sure if you have free time in the near future but I kinda need to talk to you!

To your surprised he responded within minutes of your text.

Matty:

I’m happy you reached out, lets meet up! Can you do lunch tomorrow? Our usual lunch spot?

This all seemed too familiar, why was he texting you like you had never broken up and why did he respond at all? He could have easily said he was busy or trying to move on and didn’t want to talk, but he didn’t.

Y/n:

I was actually thinking we could do takeout or something and eat at my apartment?

You figure a private setting would be better for the news you were about to spring on him since you weren’t sure of the reaction you were going to get.

Matty:

Anything works babe

He had practice the next morning and a free afternoon so it was the perfect opportunity to tell him, giving him time to process since he had nothing going on for the rest of the day.

Matthew walked up to your apartment door the next day giving it his signature knock. You slowly walked to the door, opening it to find him standing there, carrying the to-go bags, filled with your favorite meal and wearing his perfect smile that almost made you forget why you called him over in the first place.

As you went to greet him, you caught a slight whiff of the food and the nausea that washed over you was so sudden and instantaneous, you almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.

On your run to the bathroom, you heard Matt’s footsteps following closely behind, but luckily you had enough time to lock the bathroom door before emptying the contents of you stomach in the toilet.

Matthew sat outside the bathroom knocking lightly “y/n are you okay” he waited patiently for your response.

When you felt the wave of nausea had completely passed, you stood up, flushing the toilet and making your way to the sink to rid your mouth of the taste that plagued it.

As you opened the door to the bathroom you were met with Matt’s concern filled face. If throughout your lunch date you wanted to change your mind about telling him, that option was completely off the table now. You had no choice but to explain what was going on and you just wanted to get it over with.

Matthew stood there staring, waiting for a response. “I’m pregnant” was all you could come up with.

He stared at you in complete disbelief but then realization washed over his face. “Who’s the father” was all he could manage, as if you would invite him over to tell him you were pregnant with someone else’s kid.

You wanted to roll your eye but they were so full of tears, you were scared that if you moved them, the tears would start running and you would fall apart in front of him.

“Yours” you whispered with a cold tone trying your best to keep your emotions at bay.

Matthew had alway wanted to be a dad and was great with his teammates kids, so you weren’t entirely surprised when he told you he wanted to be a part of your kids life.

You two spent countless hours and had countless lunch dates over the course of your pregnancy, talking about how you were going to co-parent and make everything work. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t secretly wish that you and Matt would end up back together, raising the family you always dream of having, but it seemed that ship had sailed for Matthew. His only concern was making sure his kid lived a happy and healthy life.

You were now waiting for a response from your ex on why he was still sitting in your kitchen so late at night.

“No no, Reign is fine everything is fine, I just need to talk to you about something” he said, not making eye contact with you. You were even more nervous now because you had no guess as to what he could possibly want to talk about.

“I’m talking to this girl” your entire world stopped spinning and your ears started to ring a little. You still weren’t use to Matthew talking to other women, you probably wouldn’t be for a long time, and now he wanted to talk to you about one of his hoes?

“Ummm okay” you said, unsure how you were even suppose to respond. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Things between us are getting a little more serious” you could literally feel you heart aching in your chest, but you continued to act unfazed by Matt’s admission. “I was just wondering what the appropriate time would be to introduce her to Reign”

You were almost stunned that he was even asking you such a stupid question. If it were up to you, Reign was never going to meet some trashy whore his father would bang every once in a while. Your son was only 3 months old, so to think that introducing him to a random, clout chaser was even an option for Matthew, made you extremely angry. Or maybe you were just jealous he had been seeing someone and it had gotten so serious that he was willing to introduce her to his newborn son.

You can’t even describe the feeling of the love of your life breaking up with you because ‘he wasn’t ready for commitment’, and then not even a year later he is in a serious relationship again but with someone else. You couldn’t help but think everything Matthew had told you was a lie, that he wasn’t afraid of committing, he was just afraid of committing to you.

“Y/n/n, did you hear my question?”

“Obviously” you spat “I just have to think, I wasn’t exactly prepared for this kind of question tonight or honestly at any point in the near future so I need time to think about it” you were bitter but you tried your hardest to not make it seem that way as you spoke.

“Take all the time you need, no rush, we’re obviously new to this whole parenting and co-parenting thing so we don’t have all the answers yet, but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” He finally made eye contact with you for the first time all night. You forgot how pretty his eyes were.

“Thanks for checking in with me, ill let you know when I figure it out” and with that he got up and made his way out of your apartment.

“Goodnight y/n” he said as he opened the front door and pulled his car keys out of his pocket.

“Night” you responded as you close the door behind him. Just as the door closed, Reign’s screams came over the baby monitor, distracting you before you had too much time to think about how alone you actually were.

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

sorrry for being a pain! here’s some more eheh and thank you.

laugh quite a lot and i like to read, i’m quite bubbly but i don’t trust people very easily. relationship wise id like my independence and my love language is acts of service. altho i do quite like hugs and forehead kisses PDA-wise. i’d like to date someone who after a bad day we could both talk about it and like comfort each other but could also go a few days without seeing each other and conversation would still flow like nothing has happened. i have a large family so they need to be good with kiddos and dogs!



Don't worry about being a pain! I just needed a little more info, that's all haha

Also, I got really carried away with the drabble part... it's a little long whoops

Okay, anyway, hear me out, I match you with...

YELENA

-----

OKAY I'M SERIOUS HEAR ME OUT

At first impressions, things would probably be a bit rocky between you two

She found you frankly kind of annoying, and you found her too mysterious and stoic

BUT as time passed between the two of you, she found herself slowly enjoying your presence more and more

Because, although your cheerfulness and optimism seemed annoying to her at first, it ended up becoming a source of comfort for her

Whenever everything seemed to be going South, she'd always turn to you, and your unbothered smile

It lifted her up every time she saw it

But she wouldn't tell you this outright

She had a job to do, and a relationship would only interfere

So, surprisingly, it was you that had to confess to her

You weren't exactly sure what drew you to Yelena, but maybe it was the way her demeanor started to look less cold and apathetic, and more so confident and relaxed

So, with Onyankopon's reluctant help, you managed to get some alone time with her, and confessed your feelings to her over some warm tea and pastries you bought from a local bakery

She admitted, very casually, that the feelings were mutual

Somehow, throughout the whole thing, the most reaction you got out of her was a light pink tint on her cheeks

But, considering Yelena, that was a big step

Following the start of your relationship, your dynamic didn't change all that much at first

Things were kept mostly private while she eased into things a little bit

Not only did she have a steel reputation to maintain, but she had also never been in a relationship before. It was a new level of vulnerability for her

During this time, though, she'd worry about her abilities as your girlfriend

She wasn't exactly extremely affectionate, and scarcely had free time to spend with you

So you'd always reassure her, during your rare times alone, that you loved her, and she had nothing to worry about whenever she'd forego your time together in favor of working late hours into the night

And once her confidence in your relationship began to flourish, she was a lot more open about it to other people

It wasn't uncommon to see Yelena walking around holding your hand as she went to and from meetings, or to have her brush her hand soothingly across your thigh whenever said meetings got tense

She was still a bit more affectionate behind doors, but that was to be expected

She especially enjoyed the height difference between you two, bending down to wrap her arms around your waist and stand up straight, pulling you into a hug

And trust me, she'll melt if you wrap your legs around her and lean on her shoulder

It's one of those rare times you can see her blush

But, throughout your relationship, you notice just how quickly Yelena is at your hand and foot

Getting Yelena to do anything for others is a bit of a... challenge... but when it comes to you, she does it all without another word

She treats you like a queen, always preparing food/drinks when you need it, giving you massages when you feel tense, helping you with your paperwork to lift stress off of your shoulders, even when she has her own work to finish long after you've gone to sleep

She also gets very protective over you after a few months of dating. Honestly, sometimes, it borders on possessiveness

Her work is dangerous, and she hates to drag you into it, but it seems mostly unavoidable

So, she often tries to stick by you in tense situations, steering you away from danger

Whether that be encouraging you not to get involved with people she knows will backstab you, to physically getting in between you and harms way

She just needs to make sure that you stay safe, she wouldn't be able to live knowing she let something awful happen to you

She does respect your space, though, and leaves you to your devices often

And it makes her so proud to see just how amazing you are, both on the battlefield, and in meetings, pretty much anywhere

She admires how strong and capable you are in so many ways, she loves to see you flourish like that

Plus, I can totally see Yelena being a huge family person

Once the war ends, she'll start with something simple, like a dog

And so, you lead her to a dog shelter, expecting to walk out with a doberman or an English mastiff

Nope.

Instead, she ends up getting a tiny little chihuahua puppy, small enough to fit in her palm

The image almost makes you laugh, but the death glare she shoots you following her choice shuts you up right away

She'd name it Teacup or something

And god, she'd love that little dog to death

But even so, after years of living with you and the dog, she still felt a little lonely

So, she'd probably bring up the idea of adoption (since, of course, you're both women and can't just have a child)

Bonus points if Yelena has to dress up as a man to go to the adoption center because the employees were hesitant to let two women adopt

And that would lead you two to where you are now: a small little house in a big city, living within mere blocks of all your best friends, and your three adopted sons. And Teacup, of course

Yelena has no idea what she did in her life to deserve it all, but god, is she glad things worked out the way they did

-----

"Y/n?" A voice, unassuming to the unknowing ear, but easily recognizable to you, piped through the commotion. Soldiers and officers milled about left and right, chattering and laughing, filling the long hallway with loud echoes of banter.

You squeezed your way in between men in uniforms left and right, searching for the source of your voice. You didn't have to look far, though, since her impressive stature already stood her above almost everyone in sight.

Once you were in arms reach, Yelena reached out to intertwine your fingers in hers, filing through the crowd with much more ease than you had been granted, given her intimidating presence.

She pulled you down the hallway, further from where the soldiers had all gathered, and led you down to the hotel room you had shared for the time being. She whipped the keys out of her pocket, sliding them in and unlocking the door with a click.

You brought your hands to your head, rubbing small circles into your temple in an attempt to quell the dull ache already materializing.

"Geez, those guys are so noisy." You sighed, resigning to your headache as you collapsed on the sheets of the bed, tension leaving your body as the plush mattress engulfed you.

"It's unavoidable." She sighed, locking the door and stuffing her keys back into her front pocket.

A comfortable silence filled the space, Yelena shedding her suit jacket at the door and hanging it up on a nearby rack. You basked in the silence, the lack of chaos finally bringing you a moment of relief after nearly five days of non-stop obligations. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt your girlfriend gently drape a blanket over your still form, the warmth engulfing you immediately as she knelt down to remove your uncomfortably tight shoes from your feet.

The relaxed smile dissolved from your face almost immediately as a shrill ringing piped up in your ears, disturbing the silence. You were practically scowling by the time you opened your eyes, but they softened at the sight. It wasn't you, turns out, but a kettle of boiling water from the other side of the room. Yelena already had two cups laid out on the counter, and was digging through the cabinet containing all the teabags.

Your eyes fluttered shut once again, vision going black as you took in solely the sounds of the room. The piping quieted suddenly, replaced by the hollow sound of pouring water, then the clanging on the metal pot as Yelena sat it perhaps a little too carelessly back on the metal stove. If there had been any other noise, perhaps a thud of footsteps outside the door or a running air conditioner, you wouldn't have been able to pick up the quiet plop of Yelena dropping the teabags in, but it was surprisingly discernable through the quiet.

For the next few minutes, there wasn't much at all, save for the rhythmic taping of Yelena's foot, spurred by her rare moment of impatience. You could already feel sleep taking a hold of you, weeding the tenderness out of your muscles and numbing the pain in your head. Your breaths evened, preparing to drift into a short, sweet unconscious.

But, before sweet sweet sleep could engulf you, the old metal trashcan opened harshly, hitting the wall and startling you out of your tranquility. Yelena yawned, throwing out the teabags and bringing both steaming cups towards the bed.

She placed one on the nightstand, holding the other in her hand, steadying herself as to not spill the boiling water onto the sheets. Her large and slender hand found your back, rubbing up and down soothingly.

"How was the meeting?" She asked, taking a long sip from the cup.

"Tired..." You sigh into the sheets peeking your eyes open to gaze at your lover. She had her eyes transfixed on the steaming beverage in her hands.

"I figured it would be." She sighed, placing the cup onto the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. "They've been working you to the bone recently. I know you still have more work to do before the day is over, but I prepared you some chamomile tea with honey."

You resigned from your comfortable position on your stomach, sitting up the lean against the head of the bed as you took the cup to your side. You took a long sip, enjoying the taste of the tea, warm and soothing, and not too bitter due to the honey mixed in.

"I can't wait 'til tomorrow." You sigh. "It's my day off, for once. There was this new restaurant in town that I wanted to try. I heard it's good."

Yelena hummed in response, making a mental note to set up a reservation.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't need to take so many hours." She responded dully.

"But I want to." You sigh, setting the cup down to your side. It was still too hot. "Stuff needs to be done, someone has to do it."

Yelena frowned, bringing the cup back up to her lips to distract yourself. "You overwork yourself too much. Seriously."

"Maybe."

A silence filled the room once again. Not awkward, like you expect, just content. You knew you had very little time before there was more work to be done.

After an amount of minutes, maybe five, maybe twenty, a knock sounded on the door.

"L/n?" The voice traveled through the door. "Your meeting is in five minutes, are you ready."

You sighed, kicking the blankets off your legs. "Yeah, I'll be there." You pick up your suit jacket off the floor, pulling it over your shoulders. Just as you are about to leave, a hand grasps around your risk, tightening quickly and forbidding you from leaving.

You turn around and soften at Yelena as she sits at the edge of the bed. She tugs you closer, and you put your hands on her thighs to stabilize yourself as you lean in to plant a kiss to her lips.

"Good luck at your meeting." She says, running a thumb over your wrist. "I'll be right here waiting for you when it's over. I'll have something nice prepared for dinner." You smile and thank her, pulling away to kick your shoes back on.

You reach the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it.

"I love you..." She calls from behind you. Her voice is muffled slightly, and if you turned around now, you were sure that her back would be turned to you, probably already busying herself with paperwork.

"Love you too." You echo back, opening the door and slipping out, hurrying to the meeting room while you try to smoothen out your tussled hair and rub the tiredness from your eyes.

Yelena hears the door click, turning around to stare longingly at the cup of tea you left at your nightstand. She saunters over to pick it up, now cold, and bring it to the sink. You hadn't taken more than a few sips, it seems.

She sighs, placing the dish into the counter. "Seriously," She exhales, “what am I gonna do with you..."

-----

[rosemary-writes]

What are you afraid to see?: Part 4

(Dwayne x GN! Reader)

AN: I’m sorry this took so long. College is really rough at the moment

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

“Wait, I almost forgot to tell you my address.” you quickly said before either of you could hang up. Quickly you told him your address and on the other line you heard the sounds of pen on paper.

“Got it.” he replied and quietly said goodbye. You could hear the line click. Gently, you set the phone back on the receiver and turned to your guests.

“So, something tells me that you have a hot date later.” Richard said with a beaming face.

“It’s nothing serious. Most likely, we will simply go to the boardwalk.” you replied, going to the kitchen to grab some cups. You could see Richard nudge Alice.

“If it’s nothing serious, then would you mind if I gave him my number?” Richard asked, walking over to the kitchen counter. You whipped around and gave him a glare, “Don’t.”

“They waited almost a week for him to call.” Alice said, putting some tapes on the table.

“You waited that long?” Ruth asked, looking at you from the fridge. You nodded. “Honestly, if it was me, I would’ve gone and found someone else.” She said, peering around. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I think he’s very handsome and nice.” you replied, going into the living room. You set the glasses down on the table and went to your tv to mess around with it.

“Just because he’s nice and handsome, doesn’t mean he is a good person.” Chris interjected from the couch. There were hums of agreement though the house.

“Well, I will be able to figure that out, later tonight.” You responded.

“We could shadow your date. Y’know, in case he turns out to be an asshole.” Richard said, sitting next to Chris.

“You could. I won’t interject because I can’t control you.” You replied. A smile reappeared on your face as you finally got the tv on the correct setting.

Chris whispered to Richard and the girls came back to the living room.

“Okay, the tv is ready for vhs and we can eat or drink whatever we want.” you said, standing up,“However, tonight I will not allow drinking.”

The room erupted into groans of disapproval.

“Thankfully, I brought good movies and good snacks.” Richard said. You smiled as you picked up the rented films.

“Yes, Rich, I can tell you brought good movies. I also can tell that you want us to watch Labyrinth for the thousandth time.” you said as you carefully put the vhs down. He quickly began to sputter about how he liked the plot.

“It's okay Richard. You can say you like to watch it because of David Bowie’s tight fitting pants.” Ruth commented. You smiled and continued to look over. After a while you all decided to start with a recent movie.

You set it up and went to turn off the lights. All of you decided to get all bunched up on the couch and there was a mutual agreement to add comments when necessary. Richard eventually squeezed his way next to you.

About half way through, Chris spoke up about the film.

“Y’know, I saw a kid that looked just like Corey Feldman.” he said, grabbing a soda can off of the floor.

“You so did not.” Ruth replied from next to Alice.

“I so did too! He works at that little comic shop.” Chris said looking at Ruth.

“Do you mean the one thats run by those two brothers?” Richard asked, turning his head towards Chris.

“Yes! They hardly ever talk to someone unless they have intense comic book knowledge.” Chris said, turning his body toward Richard.

“Oh my gosh, I know exactly who you're talking about! They once grilled me about a comic I was going to buy for your birthday.” Richard replied.

“Did you tell them that you knew nothing about it and that it was for a friend?” Ruth asked, peering over.

“No, I left because I felt like an idiot.” Richard mumbled.

“Why did you let them embarrass you? They’re like twelve years old, man.” Chris said with a hint of laughter at the end of his sentence. Richard groaned and buried his face into a cushion.

“Oh come on, they can’t be that bad.” You interjected, looking over at Chris.

“They are!” Richard cried, moving his face from the cushion. “I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life. All because I didn’t know which comic was which.” he said, rolling his eyes.

You kept the random comic book store in mind for another time.

“Okay, can we continue the movie?” You asked and everyone agreed. Then Alice had to put in her two cents about getting tired.

--

After a few movies and many minutes later, you had to get ready to meet Dwayne.

“Are you sure about going out this late with a guy you’ve only met once?” Richard asked, while cleaning up your living room with Chris. You were in the kitchen with Alice, cleaning off some plates.

“Well, you were the one that encouraged me to go on the date with your whimsical motions.” You replied.

“I think what he means is, are you going to be safe? There are a lot of missing people lately and we are in California.” Alice said, drying off a plate.

Oh yeah, there was that. That made you stop and think for a moment.

“Uh, well, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” You said, setting a plate down in the soapy water.

“No! Don’t say that to them! It’s too late to get cold feet!” Ruth snapped, jolting from the couch. You turned to her and watched her pull something out from her purse.

“I’m going to give you these.” She said, pulling out pepper spray and a long nail file. “When I go on dates with people I've hardly met, I always take these incase the situation goes sour.” She continued, setting them down on the counter.

“I won’t take no for an answer, you are going to keep these on you.” She said seriously. You looked at the items and dried your hands.

“I guess I'll put these in my jacket pocket when he picks me up.” You said, going to inspect the objects. The nail filer was long and sharp. It looked like a miniature knife. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Richard say something to Chris.

“It’s 10:11, you should go freshen up.” Alice said, coming behind you.

“Yeah, I don’t want him to think I lazed about all day.” you said, going to your bedroom. You changed your clothes and pulled out one of your favorite jackets. The pockets were deep and they had buttons on a little flap so no one could pickpocket you. You grabbed it and then headed over to your bathroom.

You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and made yourself look nice. When you decided you looked nice, you exited the bathroom and went back into the living room.

Your friends were all gathering their things to leave and were quietly talking amongst themselves.

“So what are you guys going to be doing for the rest of the night?” you asked, slipping on your shoes.

“I don’t know, I have to pack up my stuff to go back home for the summer.” Richard said, zipping up his jacket. You hummed at the idea. You were going to miss them when they went home. Alice lived the closest to Santa Carla, but she was still a ways out.

You looked over at the clock again and it read 10:20. Ruth mumbled something about grabbing late night snacks. You went over to the counter top and grabbed the nail file and pepper spray. Carefully, you placed them into the pockets and buttoned them up.

“We’re going to head out. Call us when you get in and I want to know all of the details about your fancy date.” Richard said, grabbing his keys.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything about it.” You said, as they all stood up to leave. Everyone said their goodbyes and they left in their separate cars. You sighed and went to go sit on your couch. Your mind began to drift back to what Richard said. If he was a bad person then you had a way to defend yourself.

You bit your lip in anticipation. You really hoped he wasn’t horrible. Carefully, you reached to pull out the nail file. You were carefully inspecting it and noticed how it looked more like a small knife. As you were looking over it, you heard the sounds of a motorcycle pull up in your driveway. You put the file back into your pocket, grabbed your house key and wallet, and put them in the pocket as well.

Awkwardly, you stood in your living room. You anticipated going out to meet him but that thought was cut off with a few knocks on the door. You walked over to the door and gently opened it to be met with Dwayne.

“Hey.” You said, as a smile crept onto your face. You noticed how he had a necklace on with seashells.

“Good evening, it’s nice to know that I got the address correct.” He said, looking you up and down. The small action made you a bit self conscious but it went away as he spoke again.

“So, where would you like to go?” He asked, moving to walk to his bike. You closely followed him.

“I was thinking about the boardwalk. If that’s alright with you?” you asked. He turned around to look at you.

“Yeah, the boardwalk is fine. I can show you the good things.” He answered.

“Good, I’ve only been there once or twice.” you replied and Dwayne smiled at you. He sat on his bike and turned to you, “Well, come hop on.”

You walked over to his bike and sat down behind him. As he started it up, you wrapped your arms around him.

“Please be careful.” You said as he began to drive. You could feel him chuckle at that. Before you could blink, he sped out of your neighborhood. Your grip on him tightened as he began to head to the boardwalk.

It was exhilarating if you were being honest with yourself. Dwayne wasn’t going too fast and you were thankful for that. You had never ridden on a motorcycle before so this was new.

As he drove, you noticed how the night felt different. Maybe it was because you were going on a date and you had first date jitters. You couldn’t tell and part of you wanted to keep the mystery to it.

Dwayne stopped at a red light and you leaned forward to talk.

“So, how long have you been driving this bike?” you asked as the wind started to pick up.

“For a while, I guess. I can’t exactly remember when I started driving it.” he replied, as the light turned green. You didn’t continue the conversation since you didn’t want him to get in a wreck.

Dwayne continued to drive carefully and at a decent speed. After a few more minutes, you two arrived at the boardwalk. He parked his bike and gently helped you off. You thought it was sweet that he was being such a gentleman.

“So, what would you like to do first?” He asked, standing next to you.

“I don’t know. You probably know your way around here better than me.” you answered.

He chuckled and held out his arm for you to take. You hesitated for a second before you took his arm.

“Have you ever played one of the games?” He asked as you two began to walk.

“I tried a few but, I never actually won anything.” You replied.

He chuckled, “Well, I can win you something. If you’d like that?” He asked.

You smiled, “Yeah, that would be nice.”

[starryeyedrogue]

mental health & vent

again, a long one. please stick with me here.

tw: depression, anxiety, ptsd, epilepsy diagnosis, suicidal thoughts mention

hey everyone, like I said in my last post, I won’t be as active on here. this doesn’t mean I’m quitting by any means, I’m here for the long haul! I just need a break for a little bit. 

side note: I am not in any way suicidal or practicing self harm. this is just to vent and act as a PSA for my mutuals/followers.

now onto my main message. 

I’ve seen lots of posts about mental health lately, and I’m so incredibly proud of those who have spoken up. They’ve inspired me to make my own post, actually. normally I’d keep it to myself, but this time has been rough and I want to get it off my chest. I’ll probably delete this later, but still. 

I’ve been depressed. 

long story short, I had a very traumatic experience a couple years ago with an ex boyfriend (not going into it on this post, for details just dm me. not something I’d want to post publicly, this is just an explanation) and I was deeply depressed. I was never diagnosed “officially” because I was afraid to speak up, as this would expose what I was going through. I had really bad anxiety at that time too, and I still do. I also have PTSD flashbacks from it now and again. none of this was diagnosed, and I still don’t want to bring it up to my doctors/family. my irl friends don’t even know, at least not most of it. 

I have monoclonic epilepsy, which means my seizures are fairly small. my arms, legs, feet, hands, and fingers twitch, and I lose control for a few seconds. it doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I don’t even notice or remember it happening, but my family does. epilepsy in general runs in my family, and it can be triggered by a great deal of stress, lack of sleep, and of course flashing lights. in my case, I never “had” epilepsy or seizures until the “experience” I mentioned before, as it caused massive amounts of stress for about 2 years straight. it’s gotten better, as I now have medicine and am out of that situation, and I haven’t had a seizure since September, which is amazing and a huge blessing.

writing has helped with my depression and anxiety a lot, as I can write out what effects me the most. honestly, some of the characters are based off of myself (before vs after) and the person from the “experience.” this is just for therapeutic reasons, as I don’t really want to go to real therapy (I’d be too embarrassed to ask for it or talk to someone anyway, though I probably need to go eventually and plan to when I’m on my own). 

however, when I stopped posting it, I started feeling bad again. I didn’t think I needed to post my stories to feel better or to make a childhood dream into reality, but not posting it made me feel somehow worse. I’ve stopped writing as much, and I’ve lost motivation to do just about anything. I’m working on a couple things to help myself get out of this “funk,” but any tips would be greatly appreciated! 

this may seems stupid, but I’ve been depressed and very anxious about my schooling. I started in cyber security and got about halfway through, but I became depressed and had other issues so I didn’t finish the degree. now I’m starting in psychology, after praying for months and months for help with figuring out what to do for school. I finally got an answer, and that answer was to be a Christian counselor! I want to help as many people as I can, especially since I know how it feels to be anxious, depressed, and have PTSD. 

I’m dealing with a lot of changes right now, as I’m selling my first car, might have to move out of my first house/childhood home, and just a bunch of other stuff. this sounds trivial, but I hate change. it seriously stresses me out. my neurologist told me that if I have any more seizures, I won’t be able to drive for 6 months to a year to be safe (as I could have an “episode” as I call it while driving and hurt myself/others in a potential car accident). trust me, trying not to be stressed while being stressed, anxious, and depressed is not easy. 

on top of all that, my irl friends have all but abandoned me. I never hear from them (all but one, she’s the best!), and when I do they ignore me or pretend to listen when they obviously aren’t. I try to make plans with them, but they ignore me or just say “definitely!” but never try to set up times to hang out. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them all together. I was able to hang out with the friend I mentioned earlier to go to another friend’s recital, but that was it, and that was months ago. I totally get being busy, but I miss them and I don’t think they miss me, which really hurts. one friend ditched us on graduation day and we haven’t talked to her outside of “happy birthday,” or “@___ look at this thing I know you like,” which she never responded to. graduation was 4 years ago. I miss them all, even if they aren’t really my friends. I miss familiarity and their chaotic personalities. I’ve known them my entire life. honestly, I haven’t made any other friends irl, even though I’ve tried (I’m very introverted and a lot of people don’t get my humor/personality. I’m very much a mischievous old lady that uses weird wording (li.e. using uncommon words for my generation mixed with modern stuff, basically I sound like a vampire that’s been around since the 50s and mixes the eras together in some unholy mixture) at heart and I have very niche interests that I cling to like they’re my last hope). basically, making friends and meeting new people is hard for me for various reasons.

tumblr is different though, which I’m seriously grateful for! the people I’ve talked to are all so nice and really fun to talk to, and they’re part of why I’m posting this. @elvish-sky gave me the courage to post this and @hey-its-nonny and @padawansofthejediorder have been amazing and super nice to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. the reason I’m posting this is to let them know what’s going on if I don’t respond to messages for a while, and to let them know what wonderful people they are and how much it means to me that they care about me, even if we’re just tumblr mutuals. I love you guys, thanks for being here! it means more than you know.

my mom and dad both had health scares recently, which made me spiral even more. I honestly don’t know what I would do if one of them died. they’re literally my world and my best friends, as ridiculous as that sounds. my mental health was so low I honestly thought I’d die too. they’re both fine now, which is truly a blessing and a massive relief. when I say I thought I’d die too, I don’t mean I wanted to commit suicide, but I honestly can’t imagine a world without my parents, especially my mom (hers was the main health scare, it was a case of reaction to a new medication for her migraines). we’re insanely close and she’s my best friend, as cheesy as that sounds. I don’t know what I would do without her. it’s making me teary just thinking about it. 

long story short, please be patient with me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I need some time to take a deep breath and focus on my mental health. if you have any suggestions/tips for dealing with depression, anxiety, and PTSD flashbacks, please let me know! 

for those I’ve tagged, you don’t have to reply or even read this whole thing if you want, I tagged you because I thought you’d like to know about this and/or I wanted to show my appreciation for your kindness!

I love you all, thanks for sticking around and listening to my rants. <3

[richincolor]

The Rich in Color bloggers got together and compiled a list of some of our favorite YA books that came out in the last year-ish for Black History Month. How many of these have you read? What are some of your recent favorite books by Black authors?

Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett Knopf Books for Young Readers || Audrey’s review

In a community that isn’t always understanding, an HIV-positive teen must navigate fear, disclosure, and radical self-acceptance when she falls in love—and lust—for the first time. Powerful and uplifting, Full Disclosure will speak to fans of Angie Thomas and Nicola Yoon.

Simone Garcia-Hampton is starting over at a new school, and this time things will be different. She’s making real friends, making a name for herself as student director of Rent, and making a play for Miles, the guy who makes her melt every time he walks into a room. The last thing she wants is for word to get out that she’s HIV-positive, because last time . . . well, last time things got ugly.

Keeping her viral load under control is easy, but keeping her diagnosis under wraps is not so simple. As Simone and Miles start going out for real—shy kisses escalating into much more—she feels an uneasiness that goes beyond butterflies. She knows she has to tell him that she’s positive, especially if sex is a possibility, but she’s terrified of how he’ll react! And then she finds an anonymous note in her locker: I know you have HIV. You have until Thanksgiving to stop hanging out with Miles. Or everyone else will know too.

Simone’s first instinct is to protect her secret at all costs, but as she gains a deeper understanding of the prejudice and fear in her community, she begins to wonder if the only way to rise above is to face the haters head-on…

The Good Luck Girls by Charlotte Nicole Davis Tor Teen || K. Imani’s Review

Westworld meets The Handmaid’s Tale in this stunning fantasy adventure from debut author Charlotte Nicole Davis.

Aster, the protector Violet, the favorite Tansy, the medic Mallow, the fighter Clementine, the catalyst

THE GOOD LUCK GIRLS

The country of Arketta calls them Good Luck Girls–they know their luck is anything but. Sold to a “welcome house” as children and branded with cursed markings. Trapped in a life they would never have chosen.

When Clementine accidentally murders a man, the girls risk a dangerous escape and harrowing journey to find freedom, justice, and revenge in a country that wants them to have none of those things. Pursued by Arketta’s most vicious and powerful forces, both human and inhuman, their only hope lies in a bedtime story passed from one Good Luck Girl to another, a story that only the youngest or most desperate would ever believe.

It’s going to take more than luck for them all to survive.

I Wanna Be Where You Are by Kristina Forest Roaring Brook Press || Jessica’s Review

When Chloe Pierce’s mom forbids her to apply for a spot at the dance conservatory of her dreams, she devises a secret plan to drive two hundred miles to the nearest audition. But Chloe hits her first speed bump when her annoying neighbor Eli insists upon hitching a ride, threatening to tell Chloe’s mom if she leaves him and his smelly dog, Geezer, behind. So now Chloe’s chasing her ballet dreams down the east coast―two unwanted (but kinda cute) passengers in her car, butterflies in her stomach, and a really dope playlist on repeat.

Filled with roadside hijinks, heart-stirring romance, and a few broken rules, I Wanna Be Where You Are is a YA debut perfect for fans of Jenny Han and Sandhya Menon.

Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds Katherine Tegan Books || K. Imani’s Review

Jack Ellison King. King of Almost.

He almost made valedictorian.

He almost made varsity.

He almost got the girl . . .

When Jack and Kate meet at a party, bonding until sunrise over their mutual love of Fruit Loops and their favorite flicks, Jack knows he’s falling—hard. Soon she’s meeting his best friends, Jillian and Franny, and Kate wins them over as easily as she did Jack. Jack’s curse of almost is finally over.

But this love story is . . . complicated. It is an almost happily ever after. Because Kate dies. And their story should end there. Yet Kate’s death sends Jack back to the beginning, the moment they first meet, and Kate’s there again. Beautiful, radiant Kate. Healthy, happy, and charming as ever. Jack isn’t sure if he’s losing his mind. Still, if he has a chance to prevent Kate’s death, he’ll take it. Even if that means believing in time travel. However, Jack will learn that his actions are not without consequences. And when one choice turns deadly for someone else close to him, he has to figure out what he’s willing to do—and let go—to save the people he loves.

Pet by Akwaeke Emezi Make Me a World

Pet is here to hunt a monster. Are you brave enough to look?

There are no more monsters anymore, or so the children in the city of Lucille are taught. With doting parents and a best friend named Redemption, Jam has grown up with this lesson all her life. But when she meets Pet, a creature made of horns and colours and claws, who emerges from one of her mother’s paintings and a drop of Jam’s blood, she must reconsider what she’s been told. Pet has come to hunt a monster, and the shadow of something grim lurks in Redemption’s house. Jam must fight not only to protect her best friend, but also to uncover the truth, and the answer to the question-How do you save the world from monsters if no one will admit they exist?

In their riveting and timely young adult debut, acclaimed novelist Akwaeke Emezi asks difficult questions about what choices a young person can make when the adults around them are in denial.

The Revolution of Birdie Randolph by Brandy Colbert Little Brown Books for Young Readers || K. Imani’s Review

Perfect for fans of Nina LaCour and Nicola Yoon comes a novel about first love and family secrets from Stonewall Book Award winner Brandy Colbert.

Dove “Birdie” Randolph works hard to be the perfect daughter and follow the path her parents have laid out for her: She quit playing her beloved soccer, she keeps her nose buried in textbooks, and she’s on track to finish high school at the top of her class. But then Birdie falls hard for Booker, a sweet boy with a troubled past…whom she knows her parents will never approve of.

When her estranged aunt Carlene returns to Chicago and moves into the family’s apartment above their hair salon, Birdie notices the tension building at home. Carlene is sweet, friendly, and open-minded–she’s also spent decades in and out of treatment facilities for addiction. As Birdie becomes closer to both Booker and Carlene, she yearns to spread her wings. But when long-buried secrets rise to the surface, everything she’s known to be true is turned upside down.

Say Her Name by Zetta Elliott Disney || Crystal’s Review

Say her name and solemnly vow Never to forget, or allow Our sisters’ lives to be erased; Their presence cannot be replaced. This senseless slaughter must stop now.

Award-winning author Zetta Elliott engages poets from the past two centuries to create a chorus of voices celebrating the creativity, resilience, and courage of Black women and girls. Inspired by the #SayHerName campaign launched by the African American Policy Forum, these poems pay tribute to victims of police brutality as well as the activists championing the Black Lives Matter cause. This compelling collection reveals the beauty, danger, and magic found at the intersection of race and gender.

Slay by Brittney Morris Simon Pulse || Group Discussion

By day, seventeen-year-old Kiera Johnson is an honors student, a math tutor, and one of the only Black kids at Jefferson Academy. But at home, she joins hundreds of thousands of Black gamers who duel worldwide as Nubian personas in the secret multiplayer online role-playing card game, SLAY. No one knows Kiera is the game developer, not her friends, her family, not even her boyfriend, Malcolm, who believes video games are partially responsible for the “downfall of the Black man.”

But when a teen in Kansas City is murdered over a dispute in the SLAY world, news of the game reaches mainstream media, and SLAY is labeled a racist, exclusionist, violent hub for thugs and criminals. Even worse, an anonymous troll infiltrates the game, threatening to sue Kiera for “anti-white discrimination.”

Driven to save the only world in which she can be herself, Kiera must preserve her secret identity and harness what it means to be unapologetically Black in a world intimidated by Blackness. But can she protect her game without losing herself in the process?

[tessmontyart]

2020 year in review

It’s funny, last year I never actually got around to doing one of these. I didn’t think it was overly interesting. Oh 2019, how I miss you so 😭Such an innocent time ....

I’ll do a quick recap, cause hey no-one but me reads these anyway. 2019 was a glorious time. I went to Italy for the first time, went on an awesome Hunter Valley trip with my friends, had a 100th birthday celebration for my pop, I got to see the show I worked on air on TV, we saw the Lano and Woodley apartment in Melbourne .... Good times!

I didn’t give a rats about being unemployed and took matters into my own hands by making loads of new merch and selling at the most conventions I’ve ever been to. I tabled at Sydney Supanova, Adelaide Avcon, Sydney SMASH, Coffs Nexus Con, Sydney Oz Comic Con and Brisbane Supanova! I did so much travelling and events, it became my full time job. It was exhausting, but it was loads of fun, it paid the bills nicely, and it was wonderful to meet followers and mutuals in person.

My partner was very invested in counting up the numbers of what was selling and what wasn’t, and taking note of what was inconvenient with my setup and how to make it better. He even made a powerpoint presentation on what I could focus on for 2020, what kind of merch I could focus on and adding more conventions to my list. We were both excited about the idea of trying out Armageddon in New Zealand, which would have been my first overseas convention!

Cue 2020.

It started off uneasy. There were still bushfires everywhere and smoke hanging around, but I was optimistic they would die soon and the rest of the year would be fine. I booked a bunch of conventions early as usual. Got a whole bunch of new things made and ordered for the first convention of the year, Melbourne Supanova in early April. Some Acrylic charms didn’t make it in time because of COVID, but I thought that’s ok I still have a whole years worth of conventions to sell them at!

COVID-19 was just a spooky mysterious thing that was happening overseas at that point. I think there might have been 1 case in Australia, so all the toilet paper and hand sanitizer was sold out, but we were still able to do our usual travelling for the event. Little did I know, Melbourne Supanova was the first and last event I could do in 2020.

COVID hit Australia hard, Melbourne especially. There were lockdowns, quarantines, planes were grounded, airmail was halted, the cases kept multiplying, rules kept changing and changing and it was all so new and such a headache. Seeing every single convention I had booked cancel one after the other was hard to process. This was my main source of income in 2019 and now it’s up and vanished. Everyone were losing their jobs too, so the idea of getting a new job was completely out the window. 

I tried to cheer myself up by drawing ‘Toilet Paper Chan’, my new magical girl character who has the ability to summon toilet paper in a time of need 😅

I made it into a Draw This In Your Style challenge, seeing as everyone was bored out of their minds in quarantine I hoped it was something people could pass the time and have fun making. 

(here’s a handful of my favourites) I had a few entries which were all very adorable, but I admit not as many people joined as I expected. I don’t blame them though, this whole pandemic was very soul sucking and demotivating, especially hearing the constant stream of bad news when it all started.

I also made some lineart of a cute Easter girl, encouraging people to colour her in if they are bored in quarantine.

That was really fun, and I planned to do more, perhaps whole colouring books for a small price to download. 

Then, out of nowhere, my friend from the last animation studio I worked at in 2018 contacted me. “Hey Tess, are you looking for work?”

“Um .... yes?”

Work? In 2020? What?

It turns out the animation industry is one of the only industries that are doing fine in the pandemic. Literally the only change is that animators have to work from home instead of at a studio. If you have the animation software and an internet connection you have everything you need.

So my good friend had recently scored this job for a studio which outsources all their animation for their animated TV series. The role is just fixing up any animation errors inhouse to minimize the amount of back-and-fourth between studios. It doesn’t sound like much but it became too big a job for just one dude to handle, so he contacted me and 2 of my other animation friends to help out. We had a ball!

It was loads of fun, and the contract lasted the whole year! 

It wasn’t just fixing up errors either, I got to animate walking/ running / jumping / flying cycles for the overseas animators to use, which was great practice for me, and we even had a whole episode to ourselves to animate from scratch which I really enjoyed.

And then ... the year just flew by, because I was busy working the whole time. It was really quite surreal!

There were a few highlights, such as being a bridesmaid for my best friend’s wedding and organising her hens party, which is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.

(Hens Party - it was yellow themed (her favourite colour) and High Tea.. it was adorable!)

(The bridesmaids and the bride on the Wedding Day)

Unfortunately there were some lowlights too ... This was the last year I got to see my aunt. 

She was the craziest, funniest aunt, and still far too young to go. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be the same without her.

As always, drawing is the only way I cope with anything. My family chose a plain wooden casket, encouraging everybody to write a message or draw something on it, before it would be sent to the crematorium. I drew Spotty, her awesome horse I remember from my childhood, surrounded by her favourite flowers. Monty draw Mingus, her awesome ferret we also remember from our childhood.

That wasn’t the only bad news either. Pat’s Grandpa passed away later in the year, and a handful of my friends had relatives who either passed away or were diagnosed with cancer or some other horrible life threatening disease. A musician who collaborated with favourite artist collaborated passed as well, and even though I didn’t know him personally, it was still horribly devastating. Not to mention all my friends/relatives pets who didn’t make it through 2020. There was just so much loss this year, and I’m still grieving my cousin and my friend’s mum who both passed last year, it’s getting harder and harder to cope. It’s gotten to the point where I’m paranoid about who the next person will be because I haven’t finished grieving the last ... 

All I can say is I hope 2021 is a little kinder when it comes to my loved ones. The small light at the end of the tunnel is; any suicidal thoughts I used to have frequently have all completely vanished, because I’ve been faced with the reality of it all. You really don’t realise how many people love you, people you don’t even know.

...

That was very dark, but it’s definitely something I needed to get off my chest.

Lets go back to a much lighter note. 

More highlights: 

🌻Animal Crossing New Horizons came out this year! I used to play Wild World back in the day so it was wonderfully nostalgic, and me and Pat have made the cutest little town with all our favourite villagers. It’s a nice way to escape from it all ^_^

(Monty’s island when we started)

🌻Speaking of games, the brand new Crash Bandicoot came out this year too! It was actually jaw droppingly amazing seeing all the awesome new ideas and mechanics they came up with while still keeping it classicly Crash. I loved it and I’m so excited to see if they give Spyro the same treatment!

🌻2020 brought about new and interesting ways to still enjoy Live entertainment. Lano and Woodley did a Zoom show which was absolutely hilarious, and Lights did an amazing online Dead End show which had me so pumped!

🌻Pat and I continued our anniversary High Tea tradition, this time trying it out at the Hydro Majestic hotel in the Blue Mountains!

🌻Speaking of Pat, his sister got married this year too, despite the pandemic. Congratulations!

🌻Pat randomly bought a Miku figure for himself, out of the blue, completely unravelling years of unnecessary ‘shame’ I’ve inherited caused by a pushy mother and a crappy ex. I used to love figure collecting but was convinced by certain judgy people that it was stupid and I needed to sell them all. I kept my very favourites in a cupboard ‘just incase they increase in value’. But now I can finally display them all again knowing Pat loves them just as much as I do!

We also added a ton more to the collection to make up for lost time (and because there’s SO MANY CUTE MIKUS NOWADAYS)

It’s a bit messy because we recently got new ones and need to make more space for them. The shelf with the Vocaloid nendoroids were my original ones hidden away in the cupboard, the rest we got this year ^_^ They make me so happy!

🌻Speaking of Pat unlocking things I’ve always wanted to do in the past: I am now planning to revive my old OCs Yui and Lotto! They were just characters of mine back in the day, but since I’m not good writing I never really came up with a story for them. But with Pat’s writer wisdom and my kawaii art style, I’m now planning a webcomic featuring the two cuties ^_^ It’s still in the very early planning stages but I’m super excited, and forever grateful for Pat, for believing in me ;w;

🌻This year I drew 31 more Owl City songs in copic markers, to go towards my ongoing project to draw every song! I’m actually getting quite close to my goal now which is exciting! 

🌻This year I went to a Drive-In movie theatre for the first time to see the new Bill and Tedd movie, it was glorious and now I wanted to try more drive-ins. Going out to see a movie on a big screen *without* being able to hear smart-asses or screaming babies? Yes please!!

🌻How could I forget, this was the year my idol noticed me!! Lights shared and retweeted my Deadend fanart! Life = made.

What to to look forward to in 2021:

This is the first New Year where I actually have an idea of how 2021 will go! I managed to secure another animation job at a new studio starting January, ending January 2022 😊So thats the financial security for this year sorted! :P

As for general goals for 2021;

I’m hoping to have a decent plan, concept art, chapter ideas and hopefully even a script done for my new webcomic! I also wanted to make some cute simple animations of the characters just because c:

I’d also like to just do more of my own animation in general ... I animate every day for work but I never get to do my own animated projects. It will be hard with a full time job, so maybe this can be a 2022 goal ... but hopefully I can do at least one little animation of my own!

I suppose another goal is to make a social media accounts for my animation, too. Even if I don’t fulfil my goal, I still would like a page to showcase everything I’ve done so far.

And if all else fails .... Another goal is to draw more Miku. It’s crazy that I love her this much and haven’t drawn any fanart!

I think I’ll leave it there because I’m babbling now. 😅

I’ve done so many of these now o_o

[2018] [2017] [2016] [2015] [2014] [2013] [2012]

[zanesgirlfriend]

History Repeats | Jeff Wittek

2k follower special 💜

A/N: I just wanted to say thank you for all the love and support, I've been working on this for a while and decided to make it a special thing for hitting 2k ahh but thank yall for bearing with me through all my little breaks and late uploads and stuff even tho I'm literally a nobody so thank yall okok I'm done pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.2k

Triggers: Cheating, swearing, stuff like that ya know

Special shout out to @vlouge-squad for helping me edit this!!

_____

The heat of dancing bodies wrapped around Jeff like a blanket. A bead of sweat trickled down the bridge of his nose as he forced himself through the crowd. He nodded to the bartender as he sat on a creaky barstool, wondering if he was suddenly too old to go out to clubs like this.

Y/n was thinking the same thing, no idea that her ex boyfriend was a few seats down from her. She hadn't seen Jeff since the day he left New York. Promising to call her when he landed, only to block her number and never speak to her again. She wasn't mad anymore. They'd had their fair share of fights, breakups and makeups, and they knew long distance wasn't going to work.

She wouldn't've even noticed him if it wasn't for her roommate Katy. They'd played the same game every time they went out, giving people a job and a backstory and a silly name, and it was Katy's turn.

"Oh fuck he's hot." She attempted to subtly point Jeff out to y/n. "Um, Brad, twenty-five, Male model, from Oklahoma. Got his start modeling for billboards."

"Wrong." Her words sounded playful but really they had a lot of meaning. She scanned Jeff's body, his face, his hair, as she corrected Katy. "He's a Jeff, twenty-nine, probably the dead body in the background of Law and Order, cuts hair on the side of his shitty acting career, from New York."

"O-M-G you're right." Katy laughed as she continued to eye the man.

"Did you just say O-M-G out loud? Maybe you should chill on the White Russian's." She took Katy's glass and slid it away from them before guiding her slightly drunk friend away from the bar. Katy was highly buzzed at best, but y/n didn't want Jeff to have the chance to notice her.

She was distracted the rest of the night, busy thinking of the very first time she saw Jeff. It was like history was repeating itself.

It was a cold night in New York. The first snowfall of the year. Y/n wasn't prepared and had nothing but a long-sleeved shirt on. She blamed this on her friends dog, who'd incidentally stolen her phone and chewed through it like candy. She couldn't check the weather, and nobody'd told her it was going to snow.

She shivered, her arms folded over one another, tight to her chest in attempt to keep her torso warm. She was walking home, not willing to spend her rent money on a cab to her apartment six blocks away.

"Do you need a ride?" He pulled up next to her, his head hanging out the window. She wasn't going to take a ride from a stranger, especially at night. She watched his breath form clouds as it hit the cool air.

"No, thank you." She nodded and continued walking. He drove alongside her slowly.

"Look, I'm not gonna kidnap you, I just don't want you to freeze to death."

She took a moment to really look at the guy. She was cold, and didn't really enjoy walking alone. His eyes looked kind and his hair flopped in such a way that made her trust him. But not enough to get in the car. "Even if you were gonna kidnap me, I don't think you'd tell me. Really, I'm fine."

He sighed and she wondered what he was doing as he popped his head back in the window. He took his sweatshirt off and held it out the window.

"Take it."

"No, I can't." She wanted to take it, but she felt bad. "It's yours."

"And now it's yours. Just take it." So she did. It smelled like expensive cologne and it was fairly warm from his body heat.

"Thank you." She smiled. He returned a grin as he drove off.

The memories made her smile. Katy noticed how bubbly she became as they took an Uber home. "What got into you?" She nudged y/n with a teasing tone.

"I just remembered some things that made me happy, that's all."

Later that night, y/n woke up in a cold sweat. She was hugging her pillow and all of her blankets were on the floor. Whispered words tickled her throat as she spoke.

"Jeff."

♤♡◇♧

They say that everybody in L.A. goes to therapy. Whether it be that they actually have a problem needing fixed, or just need someone trustworthy to talk to. In y/n's case, it was the latter. Katy was a blabbermouth, and to be fair, she wasn't very good at solving problems. She had too many problems of her own.

"Something about seeing him was so surreal. It's like I can't unseen him."

"And how did seeing him again make you feel?" Dr. R. asked her, posing her pen near the top of her notepad.

"Angry, and then happy, and then sad." She paused, rethinking her words. "More like I was upset over breaking up, well, the way we broke up, and then I missed him."

"Do you still miss him now?" She asked without looking up from her notepad.

"I could lie and say that I don't, but I dreamt about him last night, so I think I do." Y/n brought her knees up to her chest, sitting in a comfortable ball in the oversized chair. Dr. R. noticed her change in position. She wrote a few more things down, circling something.

"What happened in your dream?" She finally looked up at y/n.

She smiled before answering. "I usually never remember my dreams, but this one was different. It's not that I can't remember it all, it's that everything was a blur. We were just laying together. Cuddling in bed. Then everything was going in slow motion. He kissed me, and it was so comforting. And then it all went blurry again until he got up and left." She sighed. "And that's when I woke up."

Dr. R. flipped a page or two back in her notes, putting a dot next to something y/n mentioned before. "When you two broke up, it wasn't mutual, correct?"

"No, it wasn't." She hugged her knee's a little tighter.

"I think your dream was bringing those feelings back. Cuddling with him was how you felt before he left, and then when he left, you probably woke up upset, didn't you?"

Y/n nodded. "I'm more upset now that I didn't talk to him at the bar." She picked at the loose string on the cuff of her sleeve. "I wonder if he would even recognize me."

"He will."

On the drive home y/n thought about Dr. R., how she was more like a wise old lady sitting on a porch at the end of your street. Of course, she had her therapist moments, but at the end of the day she was just a nice person to talk to.

She then started to think more about Jeff. He's in L.A. Did he finally make it as an actor? She hadn't seen him in anything. Before she got out of her car she whipped out her phone.

Jeff Wittek

Millions of results in seconds. His Instagram, Twitter, YouTube. Millions of followers. A past girlfriend, clips of him on various TV shows. The name David Dobrik seems attached to the most recent things.

She sat in her car for thirty minutes, obsessing over him. Over everything he's involved in.

She finds the Dobrik kid and laughs. His videos are hilarious, and he seems to be one of Jeff's current friends.

If only she could find a way to get in touch.

She didn't want to be creepy, obsessive, or a virtual stalker, but she couldn't help but see what Jeff's been up to.

By the end of her internet search, she couldn't help but feel she was doing something wrong. She felt dirty.

She deleted her search history, and went inside to take a shower.

♤♡◇♧

It'd been weeks. Months even. She'd stopped thinking about him shortly after her session with Dr. R., but he still appeared in her dreams every once in a while. She figured if she ever did see him again, it would be in passing at a party or another bar like it was before. She never expected to see him at the top of a mountain.

Katy was on a new health kick, and that meant dragging y/n along with her. They'd been to a cycling class five times this week, and y/n wanted to do something else.

"Let's go on a hike." She told Katy, reminiscing the days back home where she would hike in Latourette Park.

They found a hiking spot right outside of Los Angeles. "Do you want to go the easy path or the hard one?" Y/n asked, feeling like she could do both.

"I ate cheese fries last night, so let's do the hard one." Katy took a left onto the hard path and y/n rolled her eyes as she followed.

They saw a group of men and a dog up ahead, but didn't pay much attention as they were gossiping about people they knew from work and Katy's recent ex-boyfriend. The path was harder than y/n expected, and she was dripping with sweat by the time they'd gotten halfway up.

"We're never doing this again." Katy panted as she wiped her forehead. Y/n laughed.

"No, we need to do it more often."

"Why? This is torture enough!" Katy pulled on her ponytail, making it a bit tighter.

"The more we do it, the easier it'll get, come on." She pressed forward, dragging Katy up the mountain.

They noticed the guys once again. They were stood at the top of the trail, looking over L.A. and undoubtedly taking a break. It wasn't until the girls drew nearer to them that y/n noticed Jeff.

"Can we go back now? I'm tired." Y/n asked Katy, not wanting to see Jeff ever again.

"What? No! We're so close to the top, and there's cute guys up there." Katy grabbed y/n's wrist forcefully, dragging her towards the top.

"Ow, Katy!" She screamed. "Fine, we'll go." Y/n trudged up to the top of the trail, rubbing her wrist the whole time. She'd never thought of Katy as someone to use force, but she couldn't expect less based on the sexual stories they'd shared in the past.

The closer they got, the more attention they got. Jeff was the last one to turn around.

"It's you." He whispered, smiling. He'd forgotten all of the negative feelings of their past relationship. The familiarity of y/n's face brought an intense emotion to Jeff's chest.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't feel the same, but something about the way he said "It's you." reminded her of how they found eachother the first time.

She was doing a typical walk of shame. It was six in the morning. Her heels hanging loosely from her fingers as she tugged on her cocktail dress. She should've planned a bit better, or at least stored emergency cash in her bra for a cab. The party she went to wasn't far from her apartment, but walking two miles with a hangover isn't ideal. She was halfway there. Ignoring the stares and mutterings from strangers was harder the more she woke up, and she just wanted to be home.

"Hey! It's you!" The familiar man rolled down his window once again. This time he was laughing.

"Hey." She smiled a bit and her head hung loosely from her neck. "Did you want your sweatshirt back?"

"No, you keep it. Did you want a ride this time?" The way he smiled made her trust him. If he was going to kidnap her, he would've done it the first time.

"Yeah, sure." She hopped in the passengers seat and told him where she lived.

"Have a long night?" He asked her as he pressed his foot lightly on the gas. He would usually speed down this road, but he wanted as much time with her as possible.

"You could say that." She looked down at her lap, not sure of his intentions, before she realized she didn't even know his name. "I'm y/n." She introduced herself, studying his brown hair and clean shaven beard.

"Jeff." He nodded slightly as he turned into the apartment complex.

"Y/n." His voice snapped her back into reality.

"Jeff." She said, as if she hadn't been thinking about him for the past month.

"You know him?" Katy asked, remembering his face from the bar that night.

"Yeah, she knows me." Jeff walked a bit closer to them, a small dog waddling after him. "This is Nerf." He introduced his dog to Katy, already seeing that he'd need to distract her to be able to talk to y/n. It worked, Katy bent down and baby talked the little guy as Jeff pulled y/n into a hug.

"Jeff." She repeated. She didn't know if she wanted to hug him, or wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

"What're you doin' out here?" His accent was still as strong as ever. Y/n's seemed to fade for the most part as soon as she was out of Staten Island, but Katy still made fun of her for the way she pronounced 'coffee.'

"I have a job out here, production assistant." Her smile seemed hard and uninviting, but she was starting to warm up to him again.

"Hey, give me your number, maybe we can catch up sometime?" He noticed his friends were itching to leave so he rushed things along.

"It's the same as it's been for years. You probably still have it memorized." She waved him off with towards his friends, wondering if he actually still remembered it.

"Who was that?" Todd asked Jeff as he fell back into the group.

"Just an ex-girlfriend." He said, attempting to remember her number.

"Can I get your number? So if you need a ride again you can just call." Jeff was smooth as she held a hand on the door to his car.

"My phone's broken." She said. Jeff thought it was a lie at first, but something in her eyes told him that it was true.

"That's okay, we'll be seeing eachother again." He laughed a bit as her brows knitted together.

"How do you know that?" Her hand landed on her hip, heels still dangling from her fingers. She watched as Jeff turned off his car and got out.

"This is my apartment building too."

And so they saw eachother again. And again. And again. And one day she got a new phone.

"I don't have a pen, can you memorize it?" She asked Jeff on their third date. He'd left his phone at a friends house, but didn't want to forget to grab her number.

"I can try." He flashed his famous smile as she repeated the numbers. He made up a little song to remember it.

"What are you humming?" Todd asked Jeff as they continued down the trail back to their car.

"Just an old song I know."

♤♡◇♧

Dr. R. didn't think seeing Jeff again was a good idea, but she didn't explicitly state that y/n shouldn't go. So they met for coffee.

Jeff was a few minutes early, already sipping on an Americano when y/n walked into the small café. The smell of fresh coffee tickled her nose as she walked over to Jeff.

"I got you your favorite." He pushed a cup towards her as he studied her face. She looked a lot different than when they used to date. She was more mature, and you could see it in her eyes. There'd been a big change in her life, maybe it was Jeff leaving her, but he wanted to find out.

Her lips spread into a small smile as she tasted her favorite drink. It had the right amount of sugar and flavor and cream, and she made a mental note of that.

Her chair was a bit uncomfortable, the metal back cold on her shoulder blades, so she sat up straight, probably looking like she was trying too hard to present herself as perfect.

"I'm sorry." He admitted, it was the right thing to say.

"I'd hope so." Her voice was quiet, she felt small compared to him.

Awkward silence ensued, but neither of them had much to say. She looked down at her lap, but he bore his eyes into her. He missed her, and he wanted her to be his once again.

Just like that they were back. It was as if something clicked into place and they picked up right where they left off.

♤♡◇♧

He was so familiar. Everything about him was exactly the same, but also extraordinarily different. They fell in love all over again, spending nights just studying eachother, and taking pop quizzes on how much they remembered from the first time around.

It was 2am, they stayed up a little late, smoking some weed and playing cards.

"Why do you have all the puppy toes?" Jeff slammed his cards on the bed, frustrated that he was losing by a mile.

"Oh my God, I haven't heard that in years." She glanced over her straight. Every card was in the suit of clubs, and she smiled as she looked back up at Jeff.

"Probably because I'm the only person that calls clubs 'puppy toes'."

I remember when you first said it, I couldn't stop laughing.

"My grandma taught me how to play cards, but I could never remember the suits." Jeff started as y/n dealt. They power went out and they had nothing better to do, so why not play cards?

"What'd she make up a song or something?" She laughed, placing the deck to her left and flipping a card over before picking up her hand.

"Well the diamonds and hearts were easy, but she called the spades 'spearheads' and the clubs 'puppy toes,' you know, 'cause they look like little paw prints."

Y/n burst out into a fit of laughter, the words 'puppy toes' exiting her mouth between wheezes.

"Why is that so funny?" Jeff couldn't help but laugh, her happiness was contagious.

"Because she could've called them 'paws' or 'paw prints' but instead she called them 'puppy toes!'"

She was wheezing all over again at the memory. "I still dont understand why it's so funny." Jeff felt comfortable, like they were reliving old times, sitting forever in a happy memory.

Her laughter died down and they were stuck for a moment, staring at eachother.

"I love you, all over again, more than the first time." Jeff's stare bore into her eyes. His words usually sounded flat, perfect to go along with his dry, deadpan sense of humor, but he sounded real this time. He sounded more human.

"I don't think I ever stopped loving you." Y/n replied, dropping the cards, a pile of puppy toes laying between them as she kissed him. Soon she moved, climbing into his lap, sloppy yet fulfilling kisses occupied their faces. Jeff's hands did most of the work, tickling her lightly as they slid up her thighs, around the curves of her ass. His long fingers hooked onto her shirt as his hands continued upward. They disconnected for a moment as her shirt passed over her head.

Jeff leaned back, bringing her with him. Her shorts rode up as she grinded on him, feeling him grow beneath her.

She missed the feeling of his skin on hers, so much that she was glued to him. Bare. Skin on Skin. No protection as her chest stuck to his. He felt her breasts bouncing as he moved her hips up and down on his own.

They both felt cloudy, a nice fog through their brains, the weed channeling all focus to the sensations shared between them.

They were loud. Screaming, moaning, happy, euphoric.

She'd later tell her therapist that it was the best sex she'd ever had, hell the best sex they'd ever had. Her therapist would congratulate her, not really knowing what else to say.

They finished together. Ending up as a heaping pile of skin and juices. They breathed for a moment.

Holding onto eachother like they'd never been held before.

Ten minutes later they were holding hands, naked, and staring at the ceiling. They felt so vulnerable, yet so comfortable with eachother.

"I'm sober now." Jeff confessed. "I know we just smoked weed, but I haven't drank alcohol in months." He was already looking at her when she turned to him.

"Really?"

"Really."

It wasn't the pillow talk she expected, but it was something she needed to hear. She immediately trusted him, and felt like her choice in getting back together with him was justified.

But she couldn't help but think of the first time they broke up.

He blamed it on being drunk. A picture from some anonymous number depicted Jeff face fucking some random chick. Y/n was furious. She felt her heart shatter for the first time when she saw the picture. She knew it was real, and it was recent. He'd just gotten that new tattoo, it was still scabbed over in the picture. She'd put ointment on it for him just a few minutes prior to recieving the horrid image.

She was speechless. Having nothing yet everything to say to him.

Still, he blamed it on being drunk.

They were apart for three weeks. She hoped he had enough time to get it out of his system before he begged for her forgiveness. She missed him, and reluctantly took him back.

That was the first time.

"Thank you for telling me that." She squeezed his hand lightly before getting up to pee.

Laying on his chest, she realized why she'd missed him all this time. It was the tiny little things that made her happy. She made some stupid joke, referencing an old inside joke that only they knew about. The way she could feel his laughter through his chest. She wouldn't even mind being deaf as long as she could still feel his laughter, feel him. Everything was how it was supposed to be.

♤♡◇♧

Things were perfect for a while.

Katy had her own minor crush on Jeff, but y/n trusted her, and knew she just thought he was hot, nothing more. Y/n loved Jeff's friends. They were hilarious and they made her feel like she'd been friends with them for years.

They welcomed her to the group with open arms, as did Jeff's fans. His fans didn't know what to think of her at first, and she'd seen her name tossed around on a few gossip sites, but overall everything was good.

Things were perfect until they weren't.

♤♡◇♧

She always had a deep-seated feeling of unease when she wasn't with Jeff. She trusted him, and his soberness, but there was still that fear. Fear, sitting inside of her chest, like a child hiding from its mom in the coat racks of a department store.

She knew the kid was there, and that it would come out eventually.

The fear always dissipated when she was with Jeff, when they were just hanging out alone. She had nothing to worry about.

They'd been back together for three months. Three wonderful months of laughter and learning and loving and sex.

Jeff surprised her, a bouquet of flowers and a loving note telling her to be ready by seven.

She got dressed up, smiling to herself in the mirror before answering the door. Jeff kissed her and took her out to dinner.

It was lovely, a cute little date at a fancy restaurant, and time alone with her boyfriend. Jeff was expecting sex after their date. Y/n was too, but their plans got thrown off after dinner. The new guy at the restaurant hadn't cleaned her protein properly, leaving her and a handful of other patrons to take off work for the next week. Food poisoning was a bitch.

"I don't feel good." She told Jeff. He took her home, promising to stay with her and make sure she was okay.

She puked her guts out, drank the juice he gave her, and passed out in her bed. He could feel her sickness in the air, and did not want to sleep next to her, but he promised he would stay, so he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and headed out onto the couch in the living room.

"Hey." He sat next to Katy who was watching some girly movie on the TV.

"Did you get in a fight?" She pointed at the pillow and chuckled.

"No, she just doesn't feel good." He smiled. He'd never spent much time with Katy, but he did know she was a simple creature. She lived and breathed Starbucks and glitter, and he couldn't handle too much of her at once. She was gorgeous, though, he couldn't deny that.

It was late, and something about the hours between morning and night when the world is quiet just changes people. They get sloppy, don't think straight. They feel free, almost a little too free, like anything the do could be done without consequences.

It was almost like being drunk on freedom.

Y/n woke up to her stomach grumbling once again. Not in the 'Hey! I'm hungry!' kind of way, but as if her stomach was mad at her. She sat up and pulled her sweat-soaked shirt from her body. She felt horrible.

She wandered out into the living room and towards the kitchen of their small apartment, wondering if there was any Pepto Bismol laying around. She opened the fridge, the light inside causing her to squint.

The three-sided bottle was lodged in the door and she grabbed it, quickly chugging the small amount of pink liquid left. As she closed the fridge she heard something. Giggling.

Her head whipped around towards the couch, noticing Jeff's absence. She wondered for a moment if he left, but his phone was on the table.

She'd forgotten all about her food poisoning as she creeped up to the door of Katy's room.

Her breathing stopped as she attempted to be as quiet as possible.

"Jeff!" She heard Katy giggle, a little moan following it.

"Shh, you're gonna wake her up!"

Y/n stood there for a long time. Hearing every skin slap and giggle and moan. Random word seemed to stick in her head as she listened.

Condom. Jeff. She never has to know. I'm gonna cum.

She didn't know how long she'd been there, or when she started crying, but eventually she was back in her bed, pretending to sleep as Jeff peeked in to check on her.

Her heart was broken. It had already been hastily taped back together the other three times Jeff broke her heart, but now it was gone. There was no more tape.

She felt like she died. Like her soul was gone. She was wretching for air like a fish out of water. Suffocating in her own tears. The only thing she could do was cry.

"You knew this would happen." She told herself as she sat up. She couldn't sleep, between puking and heartbreak, she was the most exhausted yet awake she'd ever been. Her sadness had turned into anger and a fuck-it attitude.

"Once a cheater always a cheater. Fucking fuck!" Her whispers to herself were harsh as she opened her laptop, finding the first flight home. She needed to be home, where it all started. Where she was before she even met him. She'd forgotten about him once, and she could do it again.

She booked the flight. She had two suitcases and a duffle bag, each filled to the brim with things she wanted and needed. All the stupid movie tickets from her and Jeff's dates were left on her dresser. Pictures of her and Katy long abandoned were thrown into a drawer. She left what she could live without, and left what would remind her of them.

She had her things and her uber was arriving soon. She quickly wrote a check, this months rent, tossing it on the messy bed. She had an idea right as she was leaving and grabbed a post-it note. She couldn't decide which cliche was better, but eventually she settled on one.

They always said that history repeats itself, and I never believed them.

Now I do. ♡

She moved her bags to the front door and placed the sticky note on Jeff's phone. He was passed out on the couch, the rising sunlight just starting to hit his face.

She stared at him for a few moments. He was beautiful. She loved so many things about him. She wondered if she was making a mistake, but then she remembered what he did. She'd given him a second chance, hell, a hundred second chances, and he still fucked it up.

She'd blamed it on the alcohol before, but she knew full well he was completely sober last night.

♤♡◇♧

The driver put her bags in the trunk and started towards the airport. She figured her mom wouldn't mind a surprise and the opportunity to have her around for a few weeks until she got her shit together. And sometimes you just need your mom. You need her to hold you like you're still little, like you scraped your knee up real bad and she was the only thing that would make you feel better.

The sun was fully up now. Jeff would be awake soon, and she couldn't tell if he would call or not. Would he call to try and stop her? Or would he simply not care?

She checked her phone, simply for the time, or maybe a text, and noticed her wallpaper. A picture of her and Jeff. She was kissing his cheek. She hated the way her faced looked in that picture, but the way Jeff looked was more important than that at the time. He was smiling. Dimples poking through his beard. His eyes looked kind and filled with love. She couldn't even stand to look at him anymore, but she didn't have the heart to change the picutre.

She decided that she was the one who didn't care and turned her phone off. The only two people she talked to had betrayed her and she didn't want to hear from them.

The farther she got from Jeff, the more the sadness set in. She stared out the window dramatically, thinking about him and how this whole situation seemed like a cheesy music video.

A thought crossed her mind as they drove past a car dealership. All the cars seemed so shiny, so perfect as they sat there, but once you buy it, once it's yours, things change. It's no longer a perfect new car. It's nice for a while, sure, but eventually theres a spider nest under the back seat, a few stray fries in the cupholder, some bird shit on the roof that nobody would notice for months.

Everything seemed perfect until it was yours. You ruin it. You don't take care of it the way you should. Even if the inside is impeccable, there's always the bird shit on the roof.

♤♡◇♧

She was forced to turn on her phone and see his face when the flight landed. She was in the back of a cab as she cancelled her therapy sessions for the next month. Of course, it seemed logical that now would be the time for therapy, and Dr. R. offered to host video sessions, but y/n wasn't thinking logically. She was thinking about getting home, crying into her mom's arms, and crawling into a cave of blankets and pillows for a few weeks.

Tears were already flowing as she walked up to the door. "Y/n!" She opened the door, excited at first to see her, but her tone changing as soon as she saw the state her daughter was in. "Baby." She opened her arms and y/n jumped right into the hug, wailing as she cried.

"I thought he was different." Her words were muffled by her mother's sweater.

"Let's run you a bath."

♤♡◇♧

It'd been a few days back home, and the news had spread that y/n was back and sad, and the kitchen was filled with casserole dishes full of lasagna and baked ziti from her mother's friends. The food was delicious, but she couldn't help but be reminded of Jeff every time she took a bite. The abundance of food was meant as condolences, as it always was in an Italian, New York neighborhood, and y/n knew this. It made her even more sad, sad that everyone knew and everything was going to shit.

"Can you go through your old clothes today? Geanie's daughter. . ." Y/n stopped listening and agreed, not really interested in the backstory of someone she'd met once when she was eighteen, or her supposed daughter.

The thing about heartbreak is that it's all you can think about, all you can feel, but the hardest part is forgetting, letting go, and getting over it. She attempted to remember how she got through it the first time.

"You have to accomplish one thing at a time." Her mom plopped down on her bed. Jeff was gone and he wouldn't talk to her. He'd blocked her number. He abandoned her. Left her in the dust as he went off to L.A. to get rich. She did feel abandoned, like everything she'd done the past few years was for nothing. The second chance she'd given him before was now worthless, and she wondered why she did it in the first place.

"Do you hear me? One thing a day. One thing at a time until you're okay again." Y/n looked up at her mother and nodded. "Today you're taking a shower."

Her one thing today would be sorting through clothes. Maybe finding some tshirt from college that would make her smile. So she spent the day on her bed, three tubs of clothes poured out in front of her, and a comedy special playing on the TV. She chuckled a bit every now and then, actually enjoying herself until she found something at the bottom of the pile.

Jeff's sweatshirt. The one that started it all.

"Take it." Jeff held the sweatshirt out of his window.

"No, I can't, it's yours." but she took it anyway.

It was a plain sweatshirt, nothing exciting, but she knew it was his by the stain on the hem. She'd always wondered what it was from, but never really found the time to ask. She held the cotton against her face, the scent climbing up into her nose. Of course it just smelled like her other old clothes, it'd been years, but she swore that if she sniffed hard enough, she could smell him. Not the Jeff she knew now, but the one that pulled up next to her on the street. The sweet guy that didn't want her to freeze to death. The shiny new car she was yet to buy.

She was crying now, holding the sweatshirt to her chest. A faint knock on the door downstairs was heard, but she paid no attention. It was probably just another baked ziti being delivered from her mom's card playing partner.

"Y/n!" Her mom called, alarming her. It wasn't another ziti. She wiped her eyes and headed down stairs, stopping when she saw who it was.

"I just wanna talk." Jeff pleaded. The anger and sadness filled her chest again and she continued down the stairs.

"Talk about how you cheated on me with my best friend?" The sharpness of her words made his heart hurt. He stepped inside, her mother closing the door before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You don't understand-" He started, but y/n wasn't having it.

"Don't understand what? That you slept with her while I was fucking sick? You couldn't fucking wait until I felt better?" She was screaming in his face, tears rolling down her cheeks, traveling the familiar path.

"Y/n-"

"No, let me fucking talk." She took a deep breath. "You told me you were sober. I fucking loved you for that. I thought that you wouldn't hurt me anymore. I fucking trusted you. A lot.

"Do you know how many second chances I've given you? because I've lost count. I'm over it. I'm done with you. Don't even try to tell me that she forced you into it because I know that's not true. I know you. I know what goes on in your brain. You fucking piece of shit."

Jeff was stunned. He didn't know what to say, or why he wanted her back. He knew he fucked up. He knew that he loved her. He knew what he felt for her, even still after all these years.

"You have to understand my feelings for you, and-" His words had no meaning to her, she wanted him gone, out of sight.

"Fuck you, and your feelings. Get out." She pointed towards the door. He stood still so she started pushing him. "Get out, just get the fuck out!" She screamed, barely moving his body.

"I love you!" He screamed back, now holding her shoulders in place. Her eyes locked with his. Hers were full of emotion, depth, deep sadness. His were nothing of the sort. They looked hollow, empty, only a tiny spark of emotion barely flickering through them. That was enough for her to know his true feelings.

"If you loved me we never would've broken up in the first place." She pushed him off of her, her voice quivering as she crossed him to open the door.

"You said in your note that history repeats, but it doesn't have to. We can change history. We can forget it all." He attempted to use her own words as a way to get through to her, but she was smarter than that.

"I already have forgotten it all, a million times over. I've let you back in only for the same shit to happen again. You can't change the past, Jeff." She turned and ran upstairs, grabbing his sweatshirt off her bed. He was walking down the driveway when she called his name. He thought for a moment that she'd changed her mind, that she did still want him.

"I don't need you to keep me warm anymore." She threw it at him, hitting him in the face. He let it fall to the ground, a tear falling from his eye as he looked back at her.

She slammed the door shut and there he was.

Left alone, back right where it all started.

[faveficarchive]

The Stars Fell Down

 By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Mel/Janice

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Mel translates another scroll for Janice’s birthday, and from what she can tell from the scroll, Xena and Gabrielle have a tavern adventure that’s way more interesting than any they’d had up to that point. 

June, 1953

She stood on the field of battle. Her clenched jaw presented its smooth, powerful and determined lines to any who dared to look. As Alexander had conquered, as Genghis Khan had ruled, as Xena had destroyed...so she would as well. She surveyed her troops. They were not the finest, it was true, but they were stout of heart and devoted to her. It was all she needed.

Janice Covington’s little fantasia was interrupted by a stocky middle aged man who flung a baseball glove at her feet. "You said I could play first base!" he shouted at her.

Janice blinked and adjusted the navy blue baseball cap on her head. So much for devotion, she thought. She sighed. "Joe," she began patiently, "I told you what would happen if you didn’t show up for practice on Tuesday. I told you I was gonna put Riley in."

"Aw, come on, Janice," he wheedled. "I only missed one practice!"

"Once is more than enough!" she barked. "What do you think this is, some sort of game?"

They stared at each other as reality made a surprise guest appearance in Janice’s mind.

"Uh, yeah," Joe replied sarcastically, "I guess I did think it was a game. It’s called baseball, ‘member?"

She drew a deep breath. Okay, okay, this isn’t exactly the World Series...it’s just a bunch of out-of-shape guys running around playing baseball for laughs. "All right, Joe. How ‘bout this: If all goes well I’ll pull Riley after the fifth, and you can finish out the game."

His jaw worked. "All right," he grunted. He picked his glove off the ground and headed into the dugout. As it turned out, all did not go well, and Janice found the amateur team she coached—the Charlotte Warriors—losing 7-1 in a game that lasted less than two hours. The triumphant Asheville Asteroids (derisively called the "Asheville Assholes" by their opponents) had sauntered off the field. At least, she thought, watching her "boys" skulk out of the dugout, I didn’t get ejected this time.

The high school team arrived for practice after the grownups had left; Janice, waiting for her ride, loitered in the bleachers and watched the kids play. She had sat down and lit a Chesterton, enjoying the drift of the smoke through the summer air, when a hand suddenly reached out from above her and snatched the cigarette out of her mouth. In spite of herself, Janice grinned. "Hi, honey," she said, without looking up.

"Think you can do this behind my back, hmm?" drawled Melinda Pappas. Mel, dressed immaculately in a navy blue suit, a leather briefcase hanging from her shoulder, held the offending cigarette in front of Janice’s face. "I thought you were giving this up," the tall Southerner accused gently.

"I still need it in times of stress," Janice defended herself. Mel raised an eyebrow. "We lost again!" she spat. "Farley struck out four times—"

"Oh good!" Mel said encouragingly. Janice glared at her. "I thought strikes were good," Mel added.

"Only if you’re pitching..."

"And he was...?"

"Hitting."

"Ah!" Mel exclaimed, as if she had solved Fermat’s theorem.

Janice watched sadly as Mel crushed the defenseless cigarette underneath her heel. Melinda Pappas, Carolinian Princess, Destroyer of Tobacco. She sighed. "Well, enough about the goddamn game. How was your lecture?"

"It went well. I didn’t stammer once this time," Mel said, with a hint of quiet pride. She detested speaking in public, but a colleague at the university had bamboozled her into giving a series of lectures on the scrolls. The only reason she had consented was to generate advance publicity for the revised edition of Janice’s book on Xena, which was due out in the fall. Mercifully, Mel thought, this had been the last lecture.

Janice grinned. "Great. I knew you could."

Her companion smiled wistfully. "You’re the only one," she said; the phrase was imbued with many meanings.

"The feeling is quite mutual," Janice responded softly.

Mel smiled "Shall we?" She nodded toward the Packard, which sat not far away.

"Yeah, I want to get you home...."

"Mmmm?" A hopeful glint emerged in Mel’s eyes.

"...so you can work on my birthday gift." Their expedition to Syria last year had yielded a surprise: another scroll, written in the ancient bard’s indelible hand. Previously Janice had concluded that all of the scrolls had been unearthed—the ones they had all followed a precise chronological order, and nothing appeared to be missing. So the new scroll was a happy find. In between teaching, traveling, and lecturing, neither one of them found the time to work on it. But a few days ago Mel had started a translation, and promised her eager partner that she would have the entire scroll in modern English by the occasion of Janice’s birthday on the summer solstice.

As they walked to the car, a ball sailed by their heads and narrowly missed hitting the windshield of the old Packard. They turned to look back at the field.

The catcher, standing behind the plate, waved his glove apologetically. "Sorry, Miss Pappas!" he called. "Hey, Miss Covington—could you throw it back?"

Mel narrowed her crystal blue eyes. It irked her that this silly boy automatically assumed she could not even throw a baseball, and that she needed Janice to do it. Granted, she needed Janice in a variety of ways, even some of them outside the realm of the bedroom, but really, she thought, this is too much. Before Janice could do so, Mel picked up the ball herself and, with surprising ease and graceful motion, threw it with such precision that it sailed in a straight line like a bullet and landed with a hard thud in the kid’s mitt. It even staggered the husky boy a little bit. He immediately pulled off his glove and, wincing, waved his hand around.

"Son of a goddamn bitch," Janice whispered. Somebody call Leo Durocher! She turned her glittering green eyes to Mel.

Mel opened the driver’s door. "Are you coming?" she demanded. She noticed that several of the boys, in addition to her lover, were staring at her in shock, and—quite frankly—it was beginning to annoy her.

Janice eyed her suspiciously, a mischievous grin tugging at her mouth. "You’re not going all Xena on me again, are you?"

"Janice Covington, don’t you even start with me..." Mel climbed in and slammed the door shut.

Janice opened the car door. If I can only get her to pitch one game...who knows? She might learn to like it.

*****

The Scroll:

Many believe that I took Xena, the Warrior Princess, as my consort in an Amazon ceremony that affirmed my title and rights as Queen. As time passed—it’s been five years since that ceremony—I saw no reason to disabuse anyone of this notion. But a slip of my tongue recently has let a few people in on the "secret"—that I’d had the famed warrior before the ceremony. It’s not a malicious secret, by any stretch of the imagination, although I wonder whose reputation it would affect more—mine (the farm girl, the sexual innocent) or Xena’s (the rapacious, lustful conqueror of both sexes).

At the time of this writing my companion is on a diplomatic mission; I know such duties bore her to tears, but such are the expectations people have of her now—she is no longer feared, but revered, and in demand more than ever. I too had similar responsibilities awaiting me in Amazon territory. So reluctantly we parted for a few days.

This morning after breakfast, I walked with Ephiny across the Amazon compound, where we witnessed two young women engaged in a furious argument. I was ready to intervene but Ephiny grabbed my arm. "Leave it," she said. "It’s a lovers’ quarrel."

At this point they were shoving each other.

"It seems a little too...virulent for that, Eph," I responded.

"Trust me," Ephiny said, and we walked on. "Come on, I remember when you and Xena got together—even before then, you guys argued all the time, it seems. Now that you’ve been together a few years, you’ve mellowed out a bit." She paused thoughtfully. "Must’ve been all that sexual tension, waiting to explode."

"I don’t think you can attribute it all to sexual tension," I said. "It’s not like we hadn’t slept together before then—" My mouth hung open as I realized what I said. If Xena had been there, it would’ve been the perfect moment for her to growl out my name in that disapproving yet still sexy fashion.

Ephiny stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widened. Without a word she seized my arm yet again and dragged me across the compound to her hut, as if she intended to ravish me. I noticed that no one seemed to care that their Queen was being dragged around like a sack of potatoes, and screaming in protest ("Who’s in charge here?") as well. It made me wonder what everyone thinks of my relationship with Ephiny...that perhaps the Regent will play while the Warrior Princess is away? (After all this time, I know how smutty the Amazons can think. We arrived outside the hut, and from the window I saw Eponin and Solari inside. Solari, languishing in a chair, was munching an apple and coaching Eponin as she performed some odd little song: "I’m a little kettle, short and stout—" Eponin sang tunelessly.

"Emphasize the stout, Pony," Solari said through a mouthful of food. "Do arms akimbo!"

Pony did so. Then we barged through the door. Pony snapped to attention and Sol sat up, apple lodged in her mouth like a cooked pig.

"Don’t you two ever do any work?" I asked, irritated at their presence.

"Calm down, Gabrielle. I was supposed to meet with Pony and Sol to discuss security protocols. "

"You were meeting without me?" I accused; the mere thought of being left out of the loop sends me into a paranoid fit.

"Oh for Artemis’s sake, Gabrielle, it was just a pre-meeting."

"A what?"

"A meeting to prepare me for my meeting with you tomorrow."

Whoever thought these things would be so complicated?

"Now dish!" she cried.

I looked for a plate. Spotting one on a table, I handed it to her.

She slapped my arm. "No, you silly goose, tell me about your first time!"

"What’s going on?" asked Solari. "What first time?" She exchanged a look with Eponin, then the two of them cooed, "ooooooh" simultaneously, knowingly. "But we know your first time was with...your husband," Eponin said delicately.

"Yes, that’s right," I said.

"I’m not talking about that," Ephiny said in exasperation, "I mean the first time with Xena!"

"It was the ceremony," Solari said. Then she looked at me. "Right?"

"Well...no." Having the three of them stare at me reminded me of the gossipy old crones that were my mother’s closest friends; I recalled how they would crowd around the kitchen table and whisper their secrets to one another. I was always envious; I wanted to know their tales, spill their secrets. It was probably the beginning of my desire to be a bard. And now—in front of my sisters—I would tell them my secret tale, which I will set down here for posterity.

*****

It happened not long after Callisto and Velaska were entombed in lava. We were both tired from the events of those chaotic days and weeks, but Xena wanted to put as much distance as possible between us and the place where it happened. It was, we both knew, more for peace of mind than anything else. We were heading north out of the Amazon territory when once again we met up with Autolycus, who did not look pleased to see us initially. I myself was embarrassed, when I recalled the strange kiss I shared with him—when I thought I was kissing my best friend. I blushed, but he didn’t notice—as always, he quickly threw aside any discomfort for the chance to charm Xena. He kissed her hand, his dark eyes feasting adoringly upon the beauty of her barely tolerant face. "Trying to get under the leathers of the Warrior Princess is my most favorite idle pastime," he told me once. "Idle, because I know I have less of a chance than a three-legged billy goat." I was beginning to wonder who would ever have a chance with Xena.

"Where are you headed?" Xena asked him.

"Bucephalia!" he said with a flourish.

"Isn’t that where they have that weird festival—the Festival of the Cow’s Head?" I asked.

"Yup, that’s where I’m headed," he said. "three days of drinking, debauchery and worshipping cows. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy?"

I had to admit that I hadn’t. Although now, nothing surprises me.

"Taking a vacation?" Xena asked, skeptically. She leaned against a tree with her arms crossed.

"Even thieves need a vacation, Xena."

Xena smirked. She wasn’t buying it; she knew a festival was a perfect place for Autolycus to run amok and pick the pocket of every drunkard in sight. "Then you won’t mind if we escorted you there. I could use a little vacation myself."

"Aw come on," Autolycus moaned. "You had plenty of time to rest when you were dead!"

"That wasn’t a vacation," I snapped at him. Xena winced in sympathy; I had not told her so much concerning the depths of my anguish when I thought I had lost her for good—it was all too fresh in my mind. But I think she suspected; I also believed (sometimes foolishly, I thought) that she had missed me just as much.

"Look, Autolycus," Xena said, patting him on the shoulder, "after all you’ve done for me, I can’t let you go to Bucephalia by yourself. It might be dangerous...."

"The cows might break loose and stampede," I suggested stupidly. They both looked at me as if I were mad.

"Besides," Xena continued, "it wouldn’t be any fun by yourself, would it?" She flashed a disingenuous—and dangerous—smile at him. One that told him if he dared protest she would knock him into the next day.

His shoulders slumped with defeat. "I hate you," he muttered.

"You may hate me, but you’ll love your vacation," she retorted.

And so we were off.

Later, after lunch, Xena announced that we would be in Bucephalia by sundown. As we walked along the road, with Autolycus trailing behind us, I said, "Are you sure you want to go this festival, Xena? I know you hate crowds, and noise...and drunken idiots."

She looked a little wistful. "I...actually think I wouldn’t mind seeing people, Gabrielle. It would be nice, just to be around people having a good time. It might be...fun."

"Fun?" I echoed. "Did you say fun?"

"What was that?" Autolycus called.

"Xena wants to have fun!" I could not resist this opportunity to tease my friend. Meanwhile we had ground to a halt, and Autolycus and I circled Xena curiously, as if examining a prize sow at a market, as if our inspection—and none too subtle admiration of her body—would tell us why the mighty warrior wanted to have fun. This didn’t last long. Soon she had both of us by the ears and told us that if we didn’t behave nobody would be having any fun at all. Nonetheless I giggled intermittently the rest of the way to the city. Her sly smile and beautiful eyes told me that she did not mind at all.

*****

We arrived at Bucephalia. Torches were lit in the crowded town square; musicians performed while people danced. It was all very pleasant and cheerful; strangely ordered, somehow.

"Aw geez, look at this!" Autolycus cried, surveying the square.

"What?" I asked.

"They’re all sober!"

"Probably all the drunkards are at the tavern," Xena remarked cynically.

We navigated around the square to the tavern on the other side; it was large, no doubt built that way because of the number of travelers who attended the festival every year. I went in to see about rooms, while Xena and Autolycus waited outside.

The innkeeper was a huge, strapping man called Primus—even bigger and taller than Hercules. He was so named, he told me, because he was the first child of a large family; he had nine other brothers. Luckily he had two rooms available. I told him I was a bard and willing to perform tonight, as part of the payment for the rooms.

"It’s a tough crowd, girl," he said. I hate being called girl. "Know lots of bloody stories?"

"A fair amount," I replied. "I am, after all, Official Bard of the Warrior Princess." Actually there is no "official bard"—but it does sound good and Primus was duly impressed.

"Okay," he said, "but keep it bloody."

Primus was right about the crowd. After dinner, the inn started filling up with men, and nothing but: warriors and soldiers, all clanking around with their armor, all growling and shouting in loud, crass voices.

We had all finished eating when one of these soldiers emerged from the gaming room on the ground floor, announcing a drinking contest. As he swayed drunkenly through the crowd, he boasted he would be able to drink anyone under the table.

I looked at Xena, knowing how she is utterly powerless to resist a challenge, especially one from an idiot. Her eyes sparkled as she stood up. I grasped her arm. "Where do you think you’re going?" I demanded.

"I’m gonna take this loser up on his challenge, that’s all."

"Xena—" I was apprehensive; after all we’d gone through recently, I did not want to let her out of my sight.

"Come on, Gabrielle. The guy is already smashed out of his gourd. It’ll probably take only two or three ales to put him under. I’ll be back before you know it." She bent down and whispered in my ear. "Try to keep an eye on Autolycus, okay?" The sensation of her breath pulsing against my ear sent a shudder of desire down my back.

"I can’t. I’ll be performing," I whispered back.

"Stop whispering, you two!" Autolycus shouted. "I hear ya. I promise, I won’t move while Gabrielle is doing the bard thing." He sighed and folded his arms, resigned to his fate. Xena smirked and left. I went up to the podium, and began.

Or so I thought.

I had started with a story of the Trojan war, which went well, then decided to follow up that one with my favorite subject.

"I sing a song of Xena, Warrior Princess—"

"Trollope!" someone shouted.

"—the mighty warrior—" I pressed on.

"Oh come on, warrior my ass!" I scowled at the burly heckler.

"She does have a nice ass, they say," another man rumbled.

"Yeah, ‘bout all she would be good for—" the first heckler continued.

"Hey, watch your mouth!" I yelled. "She’s my best friend!" Out of the corner of my eye I could see Autolycus shaking his head.

"Ho, little girl," he drawled—dammit to Hades, I hate the "little girl" stuff—"I’m just complementing the wench. She belongs on her back, not on a battlefield."

"She’s got great tits, I hear," said the second heckler. "That true, girl?" he called to me.

Obviously they had not noticed the Warrior Princess in their midst earlier. "What?" I shouted in disbelief.

"Answer him. Is it true?" the first heckler got in on the act.

"I don’t see why—"

"Ha, you ashamed of your friend? She must be uglier than Medusa by now, with scars and bumps and—"

"She is not ugly!" I declared. "She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She is tall and raven-haired, with flawless bronzed skin, and eyes bluer than the Aegean—"

"All fine and good, but you’ve not answered the man’s question."

"What question?" I saw Autolycus bury his head in his hands.

"Her tits!" prompted the first heckler.

I was pushed beyond my limits. The objects of the discussion loomed in my mind, tantalizing in their sheer perfection. I felt my lips tremble, then I exploded. "ALL RIGHT," I screamed, "SHE’S GOT GREAT TITS!"

Silence reigned. For a moment, anyway.

"Feh," snorted the heckler. "Like you would be a good judge of ‘em, little girl."

I lost it. "Why you—"

I had launched myself toward this towering, grubby idiot but did not get very far; Autolycus had inserted himself between my tormentor and I. But the King of Thieves could not restrain my flailing arms, and I managed to hoist a tankard off someone’s table and throw its contents into the man’s face. Then I bonked him on the head with it. He sank to the floor. His comrade threw a punch at Autolycus, who ducked, and hit the barmaid, who punched him back. Within a matter of seconds I had triggered a huge barroom brawl. I looked around for Xena, thinking the fight would surely get her attention, but no Warrior Princess emerged from beyond the door of the gaming room. "Let’s get outta here," Autolycus hissed, and he propelled me up the stairs as rapidly as possible.

We fell into Autolycus’s room, which was closer. He lit a candle, which almost extinguished as he blew out a breath of utter exasperation. "Keep an eye on me, she said—well, it shoulda been the other way around, don’t you think!"

"I’m sorry," I mumbled. "I don’t mean to ruin your vacation—"

"Great Hermes in the sky, Gabrielle, it’s not a vacation. I’m trying to work here!" He sighed again. "Look, I’m sorry too. It’s not your fault, that guy was out of line. Why, I was getting ready to pop him one myself—"

"Really?"

"Er, actually no. But I was thinking about it." He lit another candle. We sat in the room for a long time, it seemed. The noise from downstairs was dying out. "It might be safe for you to get to your room now." Gingerly he opened the door and peeked out. "Yeah, the hallway’s clear. Go to your room and don’t let anyone in, except Xena."

I sighed. "But I should go look for Xena. She might get—"

"Hurt?" He laughed. "I don’t think so."

"But—"

"Gabrielle!" he barked. "Go to your room!" Just like Father.

I picked up my candle and left. Scuttling down the hallway, I noticed that the noise level downstairs had changed—it sounded like the brawl had turned into some massive party, of which I was grateful. I was tempted to go down, but thought my presence might again start some ridiculous conflict. Possibly Xena had shown up, assuring her scruffy admirers that she did indeed have good tits. I opened the door to our room and the candle illuminated a large, familiar figure sprawled out upon the bed. A figure that was singing: "Ninety-nine bottles of ale on the wall—" I thought for a moment Meg was at the festival, had infiltrated our room, and stolen Xena’s spare set of leathers.

"Xena?" I asked. She did not stir, but groaned a little. I put the candle down on the table next to the bed. Her face was flushed and she looked distraught.

"What wrong?" I said, alarmed. I leaned over her and placed a hand on her forehead. Then she expelled a mighty sigh, and the power of her breath was such that—had I held the candle to her mouth, she could’ve torched the entire inn.

"I lost," she moaned. "That fucker—by the gods, he can hold his ale."

"I told you so!" I chastised, like a wife.

"Don’t bug me," she muttered, like a husband. She closed her eyes. "Ninety-eight bottles of ale on the wall—"

"Don’t fall asleep. You have to take your armor off."

"You made me lose...something."

"You lost count, Xena."

"What?"

"Never mind." I crawled over her. I thought perhaps if I released the clasps she could easily wiggle out of the breastplate. As I knelt between her legs and reached down for a hinge...

...I experienced an excruciating sensation, a pain unlike none I’d ever felt before It was as if all air was being squeezed out of my body. Xena had me in a fierce scissors hold: her powerful legs were wrapped around my waist. Was she exacting some murderous revenge, I wondered—for the pan flute, for my flirting with her ex-fiancé, for my incessant talking? Despite the pain, it was delicious to be so pressed against her. O happy death!

I tried to speak. But I could only squeak.

She giggled. "I’ve cut off the flow of blood to your crotch."

"Xena, by the gods, you’re killing me," I managed to gasp.

"Ha! That’s what they all say!" she rumbled derisively. "Ah...ninety-nine bottles of ale...no wait...ninety...four?" Her death grip around my waist slackened a bit, and once again I could breathe. Her eyes met mine. Then she latched onto something else randomly floating around in that ale-addled brain. "Who’s my little centurion?" she cooed in a babyish voice.

"What?" I muttered. I knew of Xena’s relationship with Caesar by this time; still, she had been less than forthcoming of the details. Was this some odd sexual game they had played?

"C’mon," she burbled drunkenly. "Tell me." Her finger playfully tapped my nose and then she cupped my chin. I reveled in her touch. My body shook with the effort to restrain itself.

"Xena, I am not—" The thighs tightened again. "Okay, okay, I’m your little centurion!"

"Thaaaat’s better," she murmured. Her hand, entangled in strands of my hair, traveled across my face until she touched my lips. "An’ I’m your...glaaaadiator. Your. Very. Glad. Gladiator." Her hand dropped. She closed her eyes.

I had never felt more confused. Long ago, my feelings had started out as hero worship mingled with lust; I knew that. But in time they had metamorphosed into something stronger. I was in love. I knew because nothing else I’d ever experienced compared to this remarkable feeling. And here I was, close to consummating a love I had only dreamed of before. But I could not take advantage of my best friend in her drunken, incoherent state. No matter how willing she seemed to be. There was trust in those blue eyes, now closed, that I loved so much. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

But...

While my mind and my heart waged a battle, my young, impatient body followed its own dictates. Gently my hips thrust into her. She moaned. Stop, I thought. I closed my eyes, furiously wishing that I would stop before it was too late. Stop now, she won’t remember in the morning. I could feel sweat increasing on my brow and as I opened my eyes a drop splashed against her chest. I opened my mouth, hoping that if I said the word aloud, I would indeed stop and the spell of her body under mine would be broken. Instead, her hands groped blindly for my face and her fingers slid into my mouth. And I was lost.

I suppose she could add making love while dead drunk to her formidable list of skills. It wasn’t pure poetry in motion, though—I fumbled with her armor, I butted her head with my elbow (and who was drunk here, I thought later....I was....drunk with desire.), she nearly fell out of bed—everything was heated and rushed. The frenetic pace was my doing—I felt as if I would never get the chance again. I was blessedly wrong, as I would later find out.

But that night, I did not know. Afterwards she slept in my arms, and I committed to memory the feel of her skin and the stars that stippled the sky—I could see them from the window. The sky could collapse, and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing to me. In fact, it already felt as if the stars had fallen down and wrapped around me, blessed me in some sort of way. Under the blanket of sleep I knew not what raced through her mind, but I had this—the curve of her cheek, the slight twitching of her fingers, her hair flowing into mine—these little details, these little threads of a larger story. The story of my love. Her steady breathing, her scent surrounding me. She surrounded me.

I did not sleep until dawn touched the sky.

And I had not been asleep for long when I heard voices outside the room; in my weary state I could identify one of them as Autolycus. The voices grew closer; it sounded as if an argument ensued. "Wait!" I could hear Autolycus say—then the door of the room swung open. Primus, the innkeeper, filled the doorway. He looked enraged. Autolycus was behind him, both hands still clutching the bigger man’s arm; obviously he had been trying to prevent Primus from intruding upon us.

I knew, of course, what they saw: a naked, startled-looking bard draped across an equally naked, still slumbering warrior. Thankfully, a blanket was strategically draped over our nether regions.

Autolycus dropped his grip on the innkeeper and clamped a hand over his eyes. "I saw nothing, nothing!" he declared, and ran out. Primus stood there for a second longer, and I witnessed his expression move from anger, to shock, to embarrassment.

"I’m terribly sorry, girl," he said in low voice. "I didn’t mean to—"

My nod cut him off; in return he nodded gratefully, glad he didn’t have to say anything further. He left. And still, Xena slept. I couldn’t believe that she had slept through the whole thing. I panicked. Was she...dead? Had my furious, consuming passion killed the Warrior Princess? I envisioned a trial, where tired old men would force me to disclose every intimate detail leading up to Xena’s demise. Did it ever occur to you, Gabrielle of Potidaea, that your single-minded focus on having as many orgasms as possible would result in the tragic death of a great heroine? Aye, let this be a lesson to our youth on the dangers of unnatural sex practices...I hereby condemn you to a life of celibacy.

I touched her forehead. Still warm. I took her pulse. Still beating.

Gently, reluctantly, I disentangled myself from her body. I threw on a shift and ran to Autolycus’s room. The thief was sipping tea and awaiting his morning bath water when I burst in.

Immediately he was on the defensive. "I saw nothing!" he cried. "I swear."

"Oh, stop it," I snapped. "I know what you saw." I plopped down in a chair. "What in Hades was that innkeeper doing?"

"Need I remind you, dear heart, you started a fight last night. Remember the guy who razzed you?"

"How could I forget?"

"His name is Decimus." Autolycus’s eyebrow wiggled. "The tenth brother," he added mysteriously. Then it clicked: he was Primus’s brother. "So naturally Primus was a bit miffed. You started a brawl that trashed his inn and cold-cocked his brother to boot. So he was barging in this morning to demand that you pay for the damages."

I moaned. Xena and I barely had a dinar between us.

"Don’t worry about it," the King of Thieves replied, waving his hand. "After what he saw this morning, he knows you’re Xena’s...love puppy, and he doesn’t dare get on her bad side, so he said to forget about it."

I sighed with some relief. "That’s the least of my problems," I said. "I did a terrible thing last night," I whispered.

Idly he stroked the tiny patch of beard residing under his lower lip. "I dunno, Gabrielle, from my perspective it didn’t look like you did anything terrible last night—or terribly, for that matter...I mean, she was sleeping like a baby, you tiger!" He winked at me.

"You don’t understand!" I cried. I told him the whole story.

By the end he was staring at me with admiration. "Well done!" he said, slapping me on the back. "Tea?"

"You just don’t get it, do you?" I said. "I violated my best friend. Betrayed her trust. Possibly, irreparably damaged our relationship."

He rolled his eyes. "I don’t think so," he said sarcastically. "Look, Gabrielle, you’re a human being like the rest of us. You gave in to your desires. So what? You know she feels the same thing."

"What?"

Again, another eye roll. "She was in my body, remember? I know what she feels about you."

She feels it too! I was giddy, elated. "Wow," I said.

"Wow what?" he asked, pouring me tea.

"I didn’t know she felt it too."

He looked at me, surprised. "Really?"

I nodded. "You say she feels the same way, but why didn’t she ever...and what if she can’t trust me..." The elation I felt a scant moment ago had dissipated. Doubt filled me. What if she hates me for taking advantage of her? I buried my face in my hands. I felt Autolycus’s hands on my shoulders.

"Gabrielle," he said gently, "all I know is that Xena cares about you a lot. Look, I don’t know what will happen...but just remember. She feels the same way." He paused. "I don’t think she could ever hate you."

His words calmed me for the time being. A knock on the door indicated that his water had arrived. Kindly he offered to let me use his bath, while he would go downstairs and get us breakfast. I agreed. I returned to our room, saw that Xena still slept, retrieved my clothes, then went back to the bath.

While bathing I decided to play the whole thing by ear, and see what happened when Xena awoke. After breakfasting with Autolycus, I returned to the room where I found Xena, sitting up in bed, cradling her dark head.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" I piped up, happy to throw her own morning greeting back in her face. Payback is a bitch.

"Quiet!" she growled. "By the gods...I’m never doing that again," she added in a moan, rubbing her temple.

I sat beside her on the bed; she was wrapped in the blanket. I could smell her musky scent. Excitement added to my nervousness. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"No, not now. Gabrielle, could you get me my herb pouch...I need some tea..."

I pulled the pouch out of a saddlebag. "Why don’t you just show me which ones to use, and I’ll have them make it for you downstairs," I replied.

Carefully she measured out the correct ingredients, and placed them in a separate pouch. "Please hurry," she groaned.

"I will..." I stood up. "Uh, Xena?"

"What?"

I decided to abandon my wait-and-see plan and risk it all. "Do you...remember anything about last night?"

"Oh, Gabrielle..." she moaned again. I braced myself for the worst. She feels awful, betrayed, it was a big mistake..."I don’t remember a damned thing. Just drinking and drinking, trying to beat that guy...I don’t even know how I got back here. I’m just glad I did..." Bleary-eyed, she looked at me. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." I was clutching the bedpost for dear life. She didn’t remember. My mind raced. Now what? Tell her?

"I’m sorry I hogged up the bed...where did you sleep?"

"Uh, bedroll. On the floor. I packed it up earlier."

"Damn. Sorry. I know you prefer the bed. You could’ve kicked me out, you know."

Kick the Warrior Princess out of bed? Highly unlikely. "It’s okay."

"No, it’s not. You look tired. Like you didn’t get much sleep." A look of horror crossed her face. "Gods, Gabrielle—"

"What?" I rasped, my heart in my mouth. She remembers!

"Was I...here with someone last night?" she whispered, mortified, looking down the blanket at her muscular, nude form.

"N-no, Xena. You were alone. After I was done performing, I came up here, and you were here, on the bed."

She frowned, puzzled. "I was alone...when you got back to the room?"

"Yes, Xena, you were alone. And very drunk, needless to say. I helped you off with your clothes, and uh, you insisted on not wearing anything to bed." I did not mention that I too was also rather insistent on nudity.

"Oh." Her look of anxiety passed, although she still seemed faintly troubled by not remembering anything.

"Well I...better get this tea for you," I replied, trying to sound cheerful, although a pain in my head indicated to me that I might cry at any moment.

"Thanks, Gabrielle."

"Sure," I said.

I walked out of the room and burst into tears.

*****

Solari’s apple core sat on the table. "Wow," she breathed, "so she didn’t remember at all?"

"Nope," I said sadly.

"Did you ever tell her what really happened?" Ephiny asked.

"No," I replied.

"Even after all these years?" Eponin gasped.

"No," I said again. But someday, I thought, maybe someday...

"See, this is what happens when you’ve been together for so long with someone as laconic as our pal Xena...monosyllabic answers!" Ephiny bitched.

"You make it sound like Xena and I have been together for eons," I complained. "Like we’re some boring old married couple." Even though it has been five years, it still seems like yesterday.

"Well, it just seems like eons, Gabrielle," Solari teased.

"Perhaps," I replied, "you all wouldn’t be so absorbed in dissecting my relationship if you all had relationships of your own."

Three blank faces stared back at me. Then a sudden eruption of activity.

"Gotta get to the practice yards. Training session, y’know," Eponin blurted, jumping out of her seat and flying toward the door.

"I’ll walk with you," Ephiny said, jumping up. "I uh, gotta go talk to some of the scouts on the north ridge..." Together they ran out.

Solari and I stared at each other. "I hafta go pee," she mumbled. Then she too ran out the door.

*****

Today my beloved returned from her diplomatic mission. The scouts had announced her arrival before she came riding through the village, so I was awaiting her in front of the stable. After she dismounted with ease, I had jumped in her arms, flung my legs around her waist, and affixed my lips to her own.

"If everyone were this glad to see me..." she gasped when I came up for air.

"You would be very popular indeed," I replied. "And you’d also be in a lot of trouble with me." I tried to look menacing but, as usual, failed.

She smiled. "Even so, there would only be you for me," she replied smoothly. Perhaps Ephiny was right, and we were influencing each other. A lot.

With my feet back on the ground, I walked with her back to our hut. "You made good time coming back," I commented.

"Well, I found a shortcut. The road around the valley is less traveled, so it’s actually faster."

"But aren’t there a lot of little villages around there?" I asked. In fact, that was where Bucephalia was.

"Yeah. But as I said, the traffic was minimal...even though that’s where Bucephalia is."

As if she read my mind. "Bucephalia?" I echoed innocently.

"Yeah, you know. That crazy cow town. Where you seduced me."

I stopped walking. I can only imagine the look on my face, for she laughed the whole way back to the hut. Once we were indoors I tackled her playfully and held her down on the bed. Rather, she allowed me to do all this. "Damn you—you knew all these years? And you never told me? Do you know how guilty I felt? For the longest time, I thought I had taken advantage of you in the most horrible way."

She laughed even harder. "Come on, Gabrielle. I awoke the next morning with a killer hangover, reeking of sex. And there you were, acting guilty, nervous, and skittish, with a hickey on your neck." She paused, and smirked mischievously. "Actually, Autolycus was acting pretty funny too...for a while I wasn’t sure which one of you I’d slept with. But I know I would’ve remembered a mustache, and you did have that hickey—"

"Well," I said spitefully, "maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was Autolycus."

"Hmm," she mused, running a hand through my hair. "That’s too bad..." She smiled at me. "I had always preferred to think it was you."

Later that evening I held her, once again, sleeping in my arms. It’s rare that she allows herself this; she usually wraps me up against her, protectively. It reminded me, of course, of that night. I think the sneaky warrior remembers more than she tells.

In between that night and a night five years ago when we declared our love, there was many an evening on the road, sleeping under the stars, where I was solitary, yet not alone. I would lay in my bedroll, my arms behind my head, the tiny lights of the world above me. I connected the lights into pictures, and those into words, and those into stories. I told them to my beloved. Sometimes I would tell them to myself, again and again. Just like this story. I would always be telling this story.

The End

[coffee-for-himchan]

Sketching Reference (Yongguk Tattoo Artist AU pt.3)

Word count: 5.6 k+

Genre/warnings: fluff, tattoo artist!Yongguk x florist!reader (feat. the rest of B.A.P)

Summary: Only one night of preparations, and a whole wedding needing floral decorations the very next day.. It felt like you'd taken upon an impossible task. But with handy and caring boyfriend Yongguk and his amazing friends by hand, everything seemed just a little more hopeful.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

(A/N) It’s been a long time coming.. But here’s finally another part of Sketching Reference.

For those not familiar with this AU, here’s a quick re-cap, in case you don’t want to read through the first 2 parts of it:

You’re a florist who’s shop is located on a little busy street, right across of Yongguk’s tattoo shop. Past encounters of him coming over to your shop to get flower references for his sketches made you acquainted, and as mutual feelings start appearing, you eventually end up becoming friends and then start dating. Fast forward a year later, and you’re in the process of moving into his apartment. You agree to do a very short notice job for making wedding flower arrangements practically from scratch and last minute, when the movers who were supposed to move your things only a week later announce that they’ll be bringing them over to Yongguk’s place the next day instead. Now the wedding and moving schedules conflict, and you feel like the world’s about to end and break apart right at your feet. But Yongguk reassures you that you’ll somehow get through it, and you end up agreeing with him that he would pack your things all night while you would do your preparations for your florist job.

It was 10 PM, and you were finally back in your flower shop, the dim light of your table lamp filling up the nearby space. Having received help to unload the bunch of flowers from the car, you quietly observed them, how they were sprawled all over the floor, lining up both sides of the room on top of tons of old newspapers which you kept for these same exact type of situations. You'd gotten lucky to have many friends in the flower selling business - your wholesaler welcomed you with open arms and did everything to help you find as many types of flowers as you needed. You took a mental note to send her your thanks sometime later this week.

Not being able to help the tiredness, you yawned and stretched your arms up into the air, glancing around the place once again. A warm cup of hot chocolate would be so nice right now.. And a warm bed.. Some old black and white movie in the background and Yongguk's arm lazily curled around your waist as he laid next to you, soft snores already escaping his parted lips and ticking the nape of your neck as you tried not to squirm in order not to wake him up. Tried to fall asleep yourself, but couldn’t, as all your thoughts kept trailing back to him and to how peaceful it was to just be tangled up with him in bed like this...

Instead of doing all that, you were standing in the middle of your flower shop, already tired out of your mind before anything had even begun.

Why were you doing this again?

Yongguk had just texted you, his message stating that he'd just started packing up all of your books that you didn't want to part from when moving, and would continue with whatever was still left of your clothes. Somehow, you felt a little jealous of him - he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and seemed to have a plan to follow while you were left completely in the blue regarding everything.

Well.. You did have sketches. But nothing apart from those yet.

It was something Yongguk had gifted you with just prior to closing away his tattoo shop for the day and letting you climb onto the back of his Vespa before you two drove to the wholesaler. Sketches of different bouquets of flowers - those were some of the sketches he'd done for a recent tattoo, and some sketches he'd done simply of boredom, while he was waiting for you to wrap up your workday in the flower shop. He said he took inspiration from watching you putting together flower arrangements, and since he knew he couldn't possibly do that himself but thought it was a beautiful process, he decided to sketch it out instead. Needless to say, it did make your heart skip a beat. Plus, having scanned over the drawings rather quickly, you realized that with a few tweaks here and there, two of the five designs he'd given you actually looked like they could fit this occasion more than well. Your own creative imagination let loose after only throwing those a glance, and while at the wholesaler and waiting for the flowers to be loaded into a car, you'd sketched down a few more version of other flower arrangements with the same visual design and decor.

And now you were here, and the hardest part was about to begin.. Bringing the sketches to life.

Another twenty or so minutes had passed, and somehow, you'd had enough thought to put on Pink Floyd in the background to keep you company, the music subtly playing through the tiny speaker set up on your counter side table. You threw a look at the sketches given to you and then the ones made by you, all of which you'd laid out on the main counter now, and also got out boxes of other supplies like ribbons and pearls and other decorations that you had acquired during the day. No more time to waste here. You had to start working right away.

And as you began the process, both inspiration and company approached on their own.

It was a quarter to eleven when the front door creaked open, footsteps filling the room to the soft tune of "Wish You Were Here". How ironic, you thought without even turning around to see who was coming through. This had somehow become your and Yongguk's song over the time, in some sort of unspoken agreement.. It was some sort of untold truth that both of you knew yet would never voice. "We're just two lost souls, swimming in the same fish bowl; And now we found the same old fears, wish you were here"... It happened to be just controversial enough, with just enough raw feeling and emotion to it, and more than anything, calm, just like the two of you liked it. He liked humming along to that song (you doubted he knew all the words to it anyways), and you loved listening to his subtle singing voice. When the song had come on just a minute or two ago, you had quietly chuckled and mumbled that you wished he'd be here. Or anyone really.

You finally looked up from the tiny workspace that you'd made yourself on the counter to see a familiar face staring right at you and smiling, though a face you weren't quite ready to see visiting you at such an occasion and such a time of day. This wasn't Yongguk. But you somehow had the feeling that Yongguk was the one who had forced this visitor.

"Hey, Himchan oppa."

He greeted you with a smile, and soon you saw another person walking around a car that was parked outside which you recognized to be Himchan's, their hand also reaching for the doorknob as the guy twisted it and while coming into the room, took off his red cap to look around a bit before looking right at you.

Now this was a new face you hadn't seen around yet, though as he came a bit closer, you saw the smile his puffy lips curled into, and found it inviting somehow. Just a tad less inviting that Yongguk's soft smiles, because to you, nothing could top those. 

"Yongguk called me half an hour ago," Himchan announced as he made himself at home in a second, throwing off his coat and hanging it on one of the wall hangers located behind the counter. The other guy remained stood there quietly, until you motioned for him to go and do the same, which he then proceeded onto with a smile. You noticed that Himchan was carrying something in his right hand.

"He told me you were having a long night tonight, so I know I'm no amazing florist like you are.. I'm no florist at all, to be exact, and can only get my way around the kitchen or a few musical instruments, definitely not flowers.. But if you need a pair of extra hands, I'm one, and I've brought you another one."

The boy standing next to Himchan smiled at you, and in a melodic voice introduced himself to be Daehyun, explaining more of his relations to this situation afterwards as he was already elbow-deep into a bouquet of flowers, telling you how he was a vocal student at the music academy, and Himchan just happened to give him private piano lessons since that was a discipline he lacked in but needed to get better at. Himchan was also the one to introduce him to Yongguk who later did two of his tattoos which he's grateful for life still, and admires the elder for his "art and cool personality". He almost sounded like he was gushing about Yongguk and his art when he spoke, and that made you chuckle, as you'd felt the same the very first time you saw what your now-boyfriend was capable of coming up with. You listened with a smile on your face, liking how others appreciated Yongguk the same way you did. You wanted him to be surrounded by people who only wanted the best for him. His friends were just as nice as you thought they were.

"So don't sweat it," Himchan put a tray containing four coffees on the counter, smiling sheepishly at you as you told him he didn't have to do this, "Dream team's here, and so is some coffee so you won't crash out at some point, so just order us around and hopefully we won't mess anything up."

Somehow, it felt like everything would fall into it's own pieces again as you looked at those two smiling men in front of you, and honestly, it must've looked like you were about to cry from happiness as the moment you walked around the corner, Himchan enveloped you in a hug and Daehyun was also there, still smiling his inviting smiles. Turning the music a little quieter, you tried to think of useful tasks for them that would make it easier for you as well. If all of you were about to sacrifice your sleep, you had to do a damn good job.

The only thing mildly concerning you was the fact there were four and not three coffees in that tray, and the second the door opened again a little past eleven, you smiled, silently thanking Yongguk for being this way. For having a big heart which had ultimately lead him to have a lot of friends who were ready to help in the weirdest case scenarios, and for always making things easier for you.

"Youngjae-ah, your coffee's getting cold~~"

"I'm aware," he shook hands with Daehyun and then Himchan before walking up to the counter, taking the single leftover coffee from the tray and sipping on it while leaning against the counter in a sassy pose, looking into your eyes as a form of hello. There he was. Another savoir of the day.

Youngjae was another of Yongguk's friends whom you knew a little. They sometimes went to the gym together, and also, Youngjae was just about the smartest IT student there was, and has helped both you and Yongguk out with website layouts for your businesses. But he was a busy man, and more than anyone, you didn't anticipate him to be standing here right now. That is, before you remembered a tiny little detail that Yongguk had mentioned in conversation a few times, just because he thought it was an interesting coincidence.

"Son of a fellow florist at your command," he did a saluting gesture, then cracked his knuckles as if saying "game on", starting to walk back towards the door, "Himchan hyung, c'mere. Give me a helping hand."

The elder rose from his position at the counter, and soon, more flowers and boxes were carried from Youngjae's car trunk into the flower shop, all of use, or so you thought when your fingers slid through the contents of the boxes, seeing as those in fact were accessories that could be used for wedding bouquets. Now you for sure didn’t have to worry about running short on any type of supplies. With a bit of creative thinking, everything could be put to use.

"These are actually leftovers from a wedding event just earlier this week," Youngjae commented as you asked him where he got all that stuff, "My mom can't calculate supplies for dear life. There's always too many left, so I just kinda barged through her door on my way here, did the puppy eye trick and she gave those to me. Yongguk sent me the sketches via sms as well, well, at least his own, so I tried hogging up whatever I thought fit the best. Big hello from my mom, by the way. She's rooting for you."

"The stars have really aligned in my favor today, haven't they?" you mumbled more to yourself than to them, still amazed at how much smoother than you first imagined everything was going. How much easier it all was, simply because you weren’t alone and completely in the blue anymore. Youngjae let out a snarky laugh.

"You just have somebody who's looking out for you extra hard, that's all."

Youngjae seemed to be a little more skilled in this field of work due to growing up in that environment, so he was put to work next to you to work on the details while the other two were made to put together bouquets and sort out flowers, while at the same time already packing up ready-made arrangements and setting them aside. Passing Youngjae a glue gun, you two leaned over sketches and quietly discussed them, as you noticed he had an artistic eye which fit well with everything you'd already come up with. Finally, you once again felt the passion for your work, not just a plain desire to get it over with. Though Himchan nagged for you to not be such a big perfectionist, he obeyed all of your orders for bringing arrangements back and forth so you could add a few more details or fix up ones you thought could be better. It was getting later by every passing minute, but somehow, the tiredness wasn't taking over and was rather surrendering. You had found some type of drive again, and wanted to use it to the fullest.

It was much more hopeful and lively with these three around, as you did not feel alone in a situation that seemed close to unsolvable just recently.

Twenty minutes to 2 AM, another two frames cast their shadows inside your shop. You recognized one to be Junhong - another guy Yongguk had once tattooed, and became friends with as he was young, quite fierce and mischievous in his ways too, but over all, shared the same passion for rap as the elder did. The other was quietly introduced to be Jongup, and though you knew who he was but saw him for the first time tonight the same way you saw Daehyun, the others seemed to know him just fine.

"Are you two mad crazy?" Youngjae spurted out, though they seemed to only shrug their shoulders, "It's the middle of the night!"

"So? We have spare keys to the studio. You know no one checks in there, so we might as well stay around and dance until as long as we desire," Junhong shrugged again, and Jongup only nodded.

"And did Yongguk call you two to duty as well?"

"Himchan hyung did," Junhong pointed at the elder, who gave a smile, showing how proud he was of his orders and the fact that somebody actually followed them, "He said that if the rest of the squad is elbows deep in work, so should we be. I guess that's the right mentality after all. It's all six of us or none at all... And you too, (Y/N)."

A little wonky, yet Junhong's inclusion of you in their friend's group seemed beyond sweet. You couldn't help but smile, your mind already racing to think of tasks for the two newcomers. Everything would be fine. It couldn't be otherwise.

All through half the night, up until around 4 AM or so, the six of you stayed huddled up in the little store like this. Walking around the place, mild music blasting in the background, making something that seemed to be unreachable at first happen in all desired ways and shapes. Himchan had taken upon the role of the commander, ordering everyone back and forth around the place as if you weren't even present and had no saying in this. Daehyun was working quietly just to spurt out laughs and bicker with Youngjae. Both their works were extra precise, showing how many efforts they put into them. Junhong and Jongup kept busting out a move or two to most of the music playing all throughout the night, keeping the rest of you laughing at all times as they'd been put on clean up duty, and did so skillfully while dancing away everyone's stress. It was late, but that wasn't an issue at all. 

Yongguk kept calling every now and then, and though he himself sounded tired, his voice was full of love and affection. He'd just wrapped up some silverware, and would go to sleep for a few hours soon. Your things were packed, and you had nothing to worry about. Though he wasn't here with you and the rest of his friends, you could clearly feel his presence in the room. The other five carried it with them and so did you, as he was the one who brought you all together and the one who'd made this possible.

At about 5 AM, Himchan had driven you back home, withstanding all of your tired thank yous and promises to make it up to him and the other guys with mere chuckles and phrases to once again not sweat it - he was just being his cheerful, helpful self, and so were the others. Plus, Yongguk had always been like the glue that kept the six of them together, as they were of quite different backgrounds, yet somehow, their friendship worked out just fine. And as you strolled in through your apartment doors to see Yongguk half-crashed out on the piano that would eventually have to be moved tomorrow too, you couldn't help but look at him from the distance for a moment before approaching.

"Hey, how did it go?"

"More than alright," he registered your hands cupping his face, and smiled up at you as you leaned down enough to press your forehead against his.

"Himchan said he's free tomorrow, and also willing to demolish half his car in order to fit all those flowers in," you smiled at him, seeing as he smiled back when his arm skillfully wrapped around you, and he stood up slowly.

"Youngjae's lectures end early tomorrow too," you continued quietly, your fingers stroking against his cheek, "He'll be there a little later, but will take the second load of flowers along."

To all of that, Yongguk simply looked back at you, his eyes narrowing as he was so, so tired, yet wanted to hear how well it went. He had really tried his best so it would end that way.

"And I learned something new about you today."

"And what's that?" he listened quietly, deep in his heart hoping that it was some way of praise, since he really felt like he needed some of that now. Not that he was usually the one to openly admit wanting to be praised.. But when you did it, it always sounded so damn good and satisfying.

"You have the biggest heart of all, Yong~~" you chuckled and kissed him lightly once, staying comfortable in his arms, "And the best of all friends which you're like a leader to. I mean, it's not really news, but.. It showed a lot today. And I wanted to tell you that and thank you for it."

Somehow, you had managed to fall asleep in bed, limbs-tangled for three and a half hours or so, when the alarm clock went off and you quietly sneaked out of his unusually tired embrace, making a small breakfast before gently waking him up and inviting him to join. Time was still ticking, despite a lot of things having been done yesterday already, and today you two switched places, with you waving bye at Yongguk, leaning out of the window to see him driving behind the corner on his Vespa just as the movers drove out from it the very next second, and you had to brace yourself to invite them in nicely and calmly tell them to make it quick - you were really, really in a hurry today, and had places to be. And it was partly or rather even fully their fault that you'd been on the edge for the last twelve hours or so.

While commanding the parade of boxes all around, your mind started trailing back to all of the work you did yesterday. Usually, you wouldn't allow yourself to take so many different risks, let alone all of them at once. You would've planned weeks, if not months ahead, would've gotten the appropriate supplies not on short notice, would've never even considered inviting people without a professional grip in this business to help you out.. An urge to see all the things you'd made yesterday arose inside of you, one you couldn't beat or get rid of that easily. What if you wouldn't like them anymore, what if they weren't exactly as picture perfect as you'd wanted them to be? All of a sudden, you started doubting a few of last night's tired decisions, and needed to check on them, to see if they were really as you remembered them to be.

You hit up Yongguk, asking him how he was holding up with checking on the flowers and all, and also asking him to send you pictures. And once receiving them, a crease formed in between your brows.

It's not like it was bad or anything, but.. Something was missing. And the more you looked at it, the less you could guess what it was.

It was a little over half past eleven when the movers were finally giving you the last papers to sign, having successfully delivered everything and already seeming to hurry to their next job for the day. You did not mind their hurry either - there were a lot of things to do and a lot of places to be for you as well.

Another text from Yongguk stated that part of the flowers were on the way to the event venue, and while in your taxi ride back to the shop, you called Yuna. Things would be in full swing soon enough. You had to literally dash to the venue and set everything up as soon as possible.

Getting there, you saw Yongguk and Youngjae both pacing around Youngjae's car with the second load of flowers. Great. You still felt like you had just enough time to do a thing or two, and ended up completely ignoring Yongguk's questions and dashing into the store to get the glue and scissors.

As if knowing you were up to something not exactly thought-through, Yongguk's hand wrapped around your wrist the second you sprinted back out of the shop, and he threw you a glance.

"What are you about to do?"

"I need to just fix those strings up a little bit-"

Yongguk stepped in front of the arrangements protectively, blocking your access to them. It surprised you at first, until you started feeling irritation creeping up. What was he doing? You had no time for this, you had to hurry and not get distracted.

"Yah, move out of my way," you tried walking past him, ready to attack the arrangements with the newfound desire to fix them, "Just a little fix, it won't take long-"

"Let's be realistic here."

With a swift move, he'd discarded of the supplies in your hands, holding your palms in his so you couldn't reach out for anything. You looked at him pleadingly, but it was of no use.

"You were the one who told me to never entirely give up on things, not until I've tried them," you pouted at him, though understanding where he came from. His words did in fact have enough reasoning for you to take them into consideration.

"I know, but I believe I also should've said at some point that you have to understand when something's simply enough."

He was right, you knew it. And you confirmed it with a huff, to which he took a step ahead and enveloped you in a hug. It was a warm and nice embrace, something that felt both natural and calming. You could feel him once again mending all your anxieties and sour feeling by just being there for you.

"I sometimes overdo sketches," he told you quietly, thinking for a bit before continuing, "It's too much. Sometimes they turn out great, but not with the time limit that I have for actually tattooing them. Then I have to simplify, to end up with a full piece, a quality one on top of that, so that when the time comes to an end I have a whole tattoo, not just the linework and some shading... Simplifying doesn't mean making it worse, or making it a poor effort. It means playing smart with the time and materials you have. You don't have to feel bad about not whipping out every single trick you have up your sleeve for this specific project. In fact, you will show your professionalism this way."

He was right. 

“Hey, lovebirds! I’d let you two have your moment, but Himchan’s already blowing up my phone asking where we’re at, so let’s move it!” Youngjae peaked out from the driver’s seat, making you take a last glance at Yongguk, nod in agreement and smile a little and start moving towards the car.

Both of them were right. You had to stop overthinking now and had to move fast.

*

Walking in through the apartment door, the most you could do was take off your shoes and head straight to the shower. After the hot water had managed to relax your muscles, you stepped outside, got dressed in comfy homewear and let Yongguk occupy the bathroom as you went to his room and plopped down on his bed...

Pardon. Your bed. Now this was your home as well, and only now you realized how much you'd have to get used to not having to go away from here for the night ever again.

"What a day."

Yongguk walked in through the doors, silently nodding in agreement and stopping mid room to scan over the stacks upon stacks of unpacked things. A sigh left his lips.

"Tomorrow should be similar as well."

"Forget it, I'm not doing any more extremely short-notice weddings," you groaned, hiding your face in one of the pillows. Another few seconds passed until you felt the bed sinking in.

"I was talking about unpacking," he said quietly, making you groan again.

"Do we have to do it tomorrow?"

"I hate these stacks of boxes. Makes everything look.. Not neat."

You chuckled lightly at his dislike towards disorganized spaces. Sure, you could take tomorrow off, but even you understood that it would be much more efficient and wiser to just get it all over with. The sooner you'd sort your things, the more time you'd have afterwards for simply chilling.

"Okay, let's get it over with tomorrow," you turned around to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, and smiled lightly, "The things I do for you."

He returned a smile.

"And vice versa."

In half an hour you were already tucked under the covers, and he was climbing into bed to join you. The black and white movie was on, his arm was around your waist as his warm breath hit the nape of your neck.. Everything was just as you’d wanted it to be. You relaxed into his frame and for the first time since you got home felt comfortable enough to think about the day.

The hectic car ride, the immediate jumping out of the car, the practical race to the venue, the way you set everything up bare moments beforehand... It was all in the past now. And though it all should've been a big amount of stress, you somehow managed to do it all with a smile on your face. Because together with you, there was Yongguk who was calmly following any instruction, Himchan who was nagging about not being able to drive up closer to the event hall, Youngjae who was much more tactical that you at times since he stood there viewing the process from the side, making small yet important corrections this way.. You weren't alone on this.

In fact, now that you thought of it, you hadn’t been alone ever since Yongguk came over for that damn sketching reference over a year or so ago.

And seeing the wedding ceremony, how unbelievably beautiful and emotional everything was, how many happy faces were around, how many promises were made and how lovingly the groom and bride looked at each other before sealing it all with a kiss.. You couldn’t help but think back to yourself and Yongguk, and wonder if this was ahead for the two of you as well. Because by watching them, you somehow felt the undeniable love that you had for him swelling in your chest. You wanted yourself and him to be this happy sometime in the future. You wanted him to look at you the same longing and grateful way when you’d be stood in front of him, holding his hands in yours tightly, confirming that you were ready to walk beside him all the way, no matter how many turns there’d be and where you’d end up at. At this moment, you kind of realized that indeed, you wanted it all. You’d always felt like things have been happening rather fast in your relationship, yet finally realized that you didn’t mind. There wasn’t really any necessity to hold back if your heart told you to do the opposite. 

The moment he pressed a kiss onto the nape of your neck, the things you’d been thinking about slipped from the tip of your tongue subconsciously.

"You know what? I'm proud of us, because we did it," you spoke up quietly, feeling him tightening his grip around your waist.

“You were the one who did it, I just packed up things and unloaded arrangements,” he said, probably wanting to highlight how much work you’d managed to successfully do today with only mere help, but that wasn’t what you were talking about... Oh, he probably had no clue about all the feelings that were currently coursing through your chest.

"No, I’m not talking about that,” you slid your hand over his arm slowly, trying to find the right way to tell him about your current thoughts and what you meant by that, “I’m talking about us, you know.. We got the guts to chat each other up, then we became a thing.. My mom likes you a lot, your friends don’t hate me which is always nice, now we’re moving in.. We don't even have to think about getting a pet because already have one.. What's next on the list?"

A comfortable silence hung over the two of you for a moment, during which you debated if you’d said too much or not. You’d simply been thinking a lot, and putting it all into words was satisfying to say the least.

“Re-evaluating our relationship now all of a sudden?” he chuckled a little, and you felt something warm and sizzling in that chuckle, “After everything you saw today?”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m completely unfazed by it..” you admitted, feeling him pressing another small kiss on the same spot as before as some sort of encouragement for you to speak on, “When I see other people like that, it makes me think back to us, and to how sudden and fast everything kept happening.. I just keep wondering what’s going to be next? Like, where will we end up in another year if it took us only one to get this far already?”

"We could always get married."

So he’d been thinking about it as well.

He words left his lips without too much effort, and the way he said it - so casually, as if it was self-explanatory already - made you still a little and want to throw him a sideways glance. You knew he was smiling lightly, you didn’t even have to see his face to know the heartfelt expression it wore. But he didn't say anything. He simply waited to see what you'd respond with.

"Was that a suggestion? A question?"

Curiosity got the best out of you, and you turned around to be faced with him, to see him chuckle and feel his hand cupping your face. He looked back at you, shrugging playfully, and you felt yourself breaking into a smile as well, and your fingertips lightly brushed against his shoulder, playfully pushing him away a little bit just to pull him back in a second later. He chucked at that too.

"It's more like an.. Early warning," he winked in return, to which you couldn't help but let out a giggle to how undeniably silly he looked when he was attempting to "flirt" like this, "As in, don't freak out when I drop down on one knee in front of you one day... Just accept it."

"Are you certain it’s a good idea?" you rose a brow at him, "A hundred percent? Out of all the people in the world, you'd officially want to get stuck with me? There’s no turning back from this one, you know?"

The smile on his face was wide and content, as if he didn't have to doubt it or think about it twice. He better feel this way about you, you though, because you certainly could see yourself walking down towards him at the altar, his smile then just as content as it was now. His smile always staying like that through the years, other things from all around either changing or staying the same, it wouldn’t really matter. Him in his tattoo salon, you across the road in your flower shop. Two completely different people with hearts alike meeting up after work every single day to spend the rest of your lives together. You could certainly imagine that happening.

"I'm pretty sure I'd like it that way,” he said, his stare finally turning away, as if he was too shy to say the next bit straight to your face, "I don’t think I can imagine anything that I would want more than this, actually."

[skycrystal23]

Connor x Deaf!Reader pt. 4

The Prejudice

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Summary: After the incident at the clothing store Connor and yourself mutually decide it’d be best if you stay with your parents for a while. Three weeks pass and you plan an elaborate escape from your childhood home. You really didn’t expect that today would be the day where your parents met your android boyfriend. 

Characters: Connor RK800, Reader, Hank {mentioned}

Words: 4 500 {aprox.}

Warnings: None besides fluff and a nervous RK800

    After the incident at the story, where you and Connor almost got killed, you thought it best to stay with your parents for a while. Connor thought it best as well. The two of you haven’t seen each other in three weeks. You were homesick. It was stupid but you considered your android boyfriend your home. Wherever he went you were more than willing to go with him. This head-over-heels feeling you had for him was unlike any feeling you’ve had for any past significant other. You missed the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, missed the butterfly kisses he would press to your skin, the sound of his pump regulator thumping when you laid your head on his chest.

    Just thinking about how far away the two of you were made you frown. It was like an invisible rain cloud was hanging over your head. The first few days at your parent’s house were fine. After all, you hadn’t seen them in a pretty long time since they lived a two hour drive away from the city. You were seated on the couch, hunched over and holding your face in your hands. A hand landed on the top of your head, you looked up to see your mother smiling down at you. She pulled her hand away, “You aren’t thinking about that boy of yours are you?” she signed over.

    You may have left out a small detail about Connor when you told your parents about him. The first question they asked when you arrived was if you were seeing anyone. Why would you lie? So, they may not know he was an android but that was okay. You’d cross that bridge when the time came. Your parents loved you no matter what but they were a little apprehensive when it came to any subject involving androids. You sat back in the couch sinking into the cushions and sighing. “Yes, I miss him.” You admitted, your gestures slow and movements tired. Sleep was the last thing on your mind as of late.

God you missed him so much.

    With his job as a detective and the current ever-lingering prejudice against deviants you feared for his safety. There had been a few times when you received messages from Hank explaining how Connor had managed to injure himself. It brought you back to your memories of Connor’s fight with Gavin and the hostage situation at the store. Your heart physically ached when you thought of him in harm’s way. Your mother tapped your shoulder and you turned your head in her direction. She was sitting next to you on the couch with a small smile gracing her thin lips. “You spaced out there. I was asking if we were ever going to meet this boyfriend of yours.” She signed over.

    Immediately your face flushed a bright shade of red. Connor meeting your parents would be a big thing in your relationship. I mean this was your parents. The very beings that raised you to be the respectable person you were today. They hadn’t met him yet but by what you’ve told them about Connor they already liked him. As soon as they knew he understood and communicated with you in ASL they had metaphorically accepted him into the family. Your father was still on the rocks about him though. Then again you were an only child so it was his job to be curious and slightly skeptical. “I don’t know.” You answered simply before standing up and hurrying to your childhood bedroom.

    Was it weird that your parents never redecorated it? There were still pictures and posters taped haphazardly to the walls and knick knacks on your shelf that you had ever since you were little. You fell back on your bed, hands folded on your stomach, as you stared up at the ceiling lost in thought. There was another thing that you failed to mention to your parents. They still thought you were visiting because you told them your apartment was getting renovated. Did they really need to know about the whole held at gunpoint robbery ordeal? The two of them would freak.

    All you wanted to do was go home now to your tiny apartment, terrible computer set-up, and Connor. You wanted your sweet and handsome android boyfriend. That’s when you decided that tonight you were going to head home. The glowing phone you left earlier on your bedside table was still lying there idle. You reached over and tapped the translucent screen as it powered on. It was so different from the ancient Apple technology. You sent over a quick text to Connor, briefly touching on your escape plan, before returning your phone to the bedside table. Now how were you going to tell your parents that you were leaving?

The plan was simple.

    After dinner you were going to say you got a text from the owner of the apartment complex saying that the renovations were finished and that he needed you to sign something. Then you were going to run outside and jump in the car where Connor would whisk you away back to the city. You told Connor you would meet him outside of your parent’s house at seven o’clock on the dot, no earlier, no later. For the rest of your day your parent’s pestered you with annoying questions involving your boyfriend. Of course, you kept the answers short and sweet. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed that he was an android, far from it.

    Lately all that any news channel has been covering were the crimes deviants had committed. These crimes were only a pin in the massive pile of crimes that humans had committed. Your parents were always worried for you considering your disability and with all of the terrible things being said about deviant androids they were worried you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. Which wasn’t the case, you were perfectly capable of defending yourself if need be; mostly because you bought an old-school tazer at an antique pawn shop recently. Connor had assured you that any human or android could be temporarily immobile if you used the electrical weapon against them.

Six-fifty rolled around.

    You finished your dinner, actually shoving it down your throat like a starved dog. A few minutes after you signed to them that you had received a message and had to check your phone upstairs. You were really cutting it close. Once you were in your room you pocketed your phone and slipped on the backpack you had packed with the things you brought here. You hurried down the steps, parents already standing at the bottom of the staircase. Just past them you noticed the pair of headlights shining in the driveway. “I got a message from my landlord about the renovations and I need to head back to sign some papers.” You signed quickly, sparing a glance out the window.

“Surely your landlord can wait until tomorrow morning.” Your father signed, lips tugged down in a slight frown.

    Guilt was building in the pit of your stomach, knotting and making you feel sick. This was so stupid. You felt terrible for lying to them and announcing your departure so abruptly. “Yes sweetie, can you not message your landlord back?” your mother signed. They still hadn’t noticed the car in the driveway which was good. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice until you were outside. You began to sign another excuse as to why you couldn’t stay when the doorbell rang. This was it, your whole plan shattering to pieces. It was past seven o’clock, you glanced down at your bracelet’s glowing built in time display.

    Were you really standing here for ten minutes? You knew Connor was at the door waiting for you. Okay so maybe you didn’t really divulge the whole plan to him and the fact that you were scared of your parents meeting him. Your fear was mostly that they wouldn’t accept the fact that he was an android, a deviant even. The media had been painting deviants in such a bad light which only strengthened your parents apprehension and worry towards androids. Your parents turned to look at the door and you watched as your father walked over and opened it. Although you couldn’t hear you knew by the look on your fathers face that he was annoyed.

    Just as his lips began to move you raced down the rest of the stairs, ducking under your fathers arm, and jumping on Connor. He stumbled back but still managed to catch you in his arms. You stared up at him, eyes sparkling and smile seeming to reach your eyes. His LED was spinning a cool blue and before you knew it he was smiling back at you. “I missed you.” You signed to him before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. You then turned in his arms and looked at your parents standing in the doorway. They looked equal parts confused and concerned.

    Connor didn’t know about your parent’s slight prejudice towards androids. Hopefully they would let the two of you leave. “Is this Connor?” your mother signed to you after standing and staring at the two of you for a good minute or so. You couldn’t blame them for their shock. The way you described Connor made him out to be so human. In truth he was probably more human than anyone you knew. He was just as much alive as everything else on this planet was. You nodded and looked down at the ground. Suddenly the pavement seemed so intriguing as your eyes followed the grooves of the stone pathway.

    The android looked between you and the two older humans standing in the house. His LED flashed yellow as he scanned both of their faces pulling up information about the two humans. You seemed almost, what was it called, yes – yes you seemed embarrassed. Were you embarrassed of him? Did something happen during your stay with your parents that caused your embarrassment? “Connor is it?” the man, who he now knew was your father, asked. He studied the older man’s facial expressions to try and retain more information about this awkward encounter.

    Connor gave the man a nod, lips twitching up into a friendly smile. You always said he had such a welcoming smile. His metaphorical heart was full again upon having you in his arms. These past three weeks have been rather lonely for him. He couldn’t really understand this feeling too well. The android wasn’t truly lonesome; he had Hank and Sumo, his younger brother Nines, and even Gavin no matter how much of an annoyance he may be. But this was a different type of loneliness that could only occur when you were gone for an extended period of time. This was the first time you had been away from him for longer than two days.

    Seeing you again increased his mood significantly. Hank said that he had become worse than Nines which was a statement in itself since the RK900 was known to have an attitude problem that surpassed Gavin Reed’s. So maybe he had been a tad miserable and a little aggressive, he didn’t think he was that bad. He glanced down at your hands when he felt you slip your fingers between the spaces of his own, giving his hand a squeeze. Your stress levels were surprisingly high. “Why don’t you two come inside for a few minutes?” your mother asked looking towards Connor.

    He looked back down at you and nudged you in the side with his arm. He let go of your hand and signed to you what your mother had said to him. The android waited patiently as he studied the way your face contorted into a look of discomfort. He watched as you looked towards your parents and began signing an excuse to them. Connor’s gaze went back and forth between you and your mother, your hand movements getting more and more quick and sloppy the more agitated you became. From what he read from the gestures he understood that you wanted to leave but your mother wanted you to stay, even if it was only for a few minutes.

    Of course, Connor didn’t understand why you wanted to leave your parents so quickly. From the information he gathered of your stories you told him as a child you had a seemingly happy childhood and adored your parents. Humans were confusing. He felt a pair of eyes on him so his gaze returned to your father who was glaring rather hard at him. Did Connor do something wrong? What was this emotion he was now feeling? He compared this feeling to multiple definitions of emotions in his database and came up with an answer: Nervousness. This was a different type of nervous, one he hadn’t yet experienced until now.

    It was fascinating how each emotion could have multiple meanings and sub-emotions stemming off of them. In human culture meeting one’s parents was a big step in the romantic relationship. All of the confidence he was filled with earlier seemed to deflate from him like helium would a balloon. His gaze fell to the ground, a deep shade of blue dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose out of embarrassment. The LED on the side of his head was spinning yellow; he understood why your stress levels had spiked when your parents saw him. You were nervous about him meeting your parents.

    If he knew this was going to happen, if he registered the thought sooner, he’d have asked Hank for advice. After all, the Lieutenant was the closest thing he had to a parental figure. “Alrighty then! Honey can you go pour us some drinks?” His audio processors picked up your mother’s soft voice. He felt you give a reluctant tug to his hand as you led him inside the small house. Upon placing one foot in the house he had scanned his surroundings to see the houses layout.

A sigh escaped your lips.

    You felt the soft breath brush past your lips as you guided your boyfriend to the living room. His LED spinning a dull yellow didn’t escape your notice as you pulled him down to sit next to you on the couch. Your mother looked absolutely pleased with herself as she sat on the nearby loveseat. This wasn’t how you planned for your parents to meet your boyfriend. Your heart was hammering behind your rib cage when you saw your father re-enter the room with two glasses of wine. One was for himself and the other was passed to your mother, he took a seat on the other side of Connor.

    It felt like time had slowed and all the air had been sucked from your lungs. The tension in the room was thick enough that it could have been sliced with a knife. Your mother’s gaze was soft but you knew better, you could see the slight apprehension and prejudice towards Connor behind her eyes. You smoothed your thumb over Connor’s hand in an attempt comfort. Whether this comfort was more so for you or him was still up to debate. “So, he’s an android.” Your mother signed to you as if Connor wasn’t in the room. If they were going to start the conversation like this then you didn’t want to be here.

    This was what you were afraid of. They were judging him based on what the media has been reporting on androids. They weren’t even trying to get to know him as a person. You shot out of your seat, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed in a nasty glare. “This is why I never told you, I knew you would start judging him like this.” You signed to both of your parents. Before you could continue your rant your mother stood up and guided you out of the room. It was just the two of you in the hallway now. Poor Connor was left alone in the living room with your father. “I’m sorry we are just worried.” Your mother signed to you with a frown on her face.

“Worried? Connor would never do anything to hurt me, he isn’t like that.” You signed back furiously.

    They thought he was going to hurt you. If you could hear yourself laugh you knew it would sound bitter. Connor has put his ass on the line for you more times than you could count. You knew that when Gavin picked a fight with him the android could have easily overpowered him but instead took the beating because he knew how much the fight upset you. Hell, he got himself shot trying to explain to the criminals in the store three weeks ago that you had a disability and couldn’t understand their spoken words. Just thinking about that made your heart swell with so much love and adoration for him. “Darling he’s an android. You know what they have been saying about deviants.” Your mother signed.

“Nothing you say will make me change my mind about him.” You signed.

“You cannot be angry with your father and I for worrying about you.” Your mother signed back, her gaze softening.

“I know he would never hurt me. I know this because he loves me just as much as I love him.”

    In the living room Connor wasn’t fairing too well with your father. Connor was still new to emotions and feeling but he could read a room. He knew that your parents weren’t exactly fond of him because he was an android. The man next to him coughed awkwardly drawing the androids attention to him. Your father was leaned back into the corner of the couch, his knees pointed away from Connor, and his body language reading nothing but discomfort. “So, what are you?” the man asked. His voice was quite deep, a significant change in pitch when compared to your mothers.

    Connor opened his mouth to speak. “I am a –” he stopped himself mid-sentence. The android was about to introduce himself more so as a machine, an introduction he had been conditioned to use since his creation. But he was more than a machine now, he was alive. “My name is Connor Anderson. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” He said extending his hand towards the older man. Hopefully Hank would be okay with using his last name. The Lieutenant has referred to him as his son on more than one occasion now so surely he would be okay with it. Your father stiffened and reluctantly took a hold of the androids hand.

    Before Connor knew what was happening the man’s grip tightened and he pulled him closer. “So what, are you using manipulation? What do you want with my child?” the man asked, his voice dangerously low.

“I only want to keep Y/N safe and happy.” Connor replied quietly.

    Your father let go of his hand and Connor sat back in his original position. There were several errors popping up in his visuals about his slowly rising stress levels. He never knew meeting your parents could be so scary. Your father seemed to be a lot more straight-forward and aggressive, your mother was more of the silent judging type. His eyes lit up when you walked back into the room with your mother trailing behind you. He looked at you as if you had hung the moon and stars in the sky. You were his everything and he would do anything for you. Was this what it felt like to be deep in love? Several Software Instability notifications appeared in his peripherals.

You stared at him with that same adoration.

    No matter what your parents’ verdict about him would be you wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t make you love him any less. He saw past your disability, your frustrations, he only saw you. The two older adults looked between the both of you and shook their heads lightly. This was the first time they have ever seen you so happy. Your father felt a bubble of guilt begin to expand in his stomach for the way he treated Connor when you weren’t in the room. Your mother’s hand landed on your shoulder snapping you out of your adoring daze. “It is very late, would you and Connor stay? At least for the night.” Your mother signed to you.

    Your gaze drifted over to the brunet android seated on the couch. He looked indifferent about the question. It was up to you really. There was no doubt in your mind that Connor couldn’t drive in the dark but did you really want to sit in a car for two hours? Especially when you were tired. “Okay.” You signed back in response. You looked towards Connor and held your hand out towards him. The android stood and crossed the room to you where you then took his hand and led him up the stairs. You could feel your parent’s eyes on the two of you as you disappeared upstairs.  

   As soon as you entered your childhood bedroom your face flushed a bright shade of red. Connor immediately was drawn to the knick knacks covering the nearby shelf. You sat on the edge of your bed and watched silently as he walked around your old room. His LED was spinning a dull yellow as he processed everything in the room. His eyes were then drawn to the picture frame on your bedside table. He picked it up and stared down at it. The spinning light on the side of his head switched to a cool blue as he dragged his fingers down the front of the thin glass casing. It was a picture of you when you were younger.

    He hadn’t seen any pictures of you when you were younger; you’ve never showed him any. This was all so interesting to him. You could see the intrigue in his eyes as he turned his head to look at you. The picture was set back down into its original place on the side table and he stepped over to you. Your arms wrapped loosely around his waist, your chin pressed against his stomach as you looked up at him. The only light on in the dim room was provided by the lamp on the bedside table. It produced an orange glow which lit up his face warmly, giving his brown eyes an even softer look to them.

    It was insane how in love you were with him. Was it possible that you were too much in love with him? “Are you ever curious about what it would be like to hear?” he signed to you. You shrugged your shoulders. Sure, you’ve had thoughts about it before. That would be like asking someone who couldn’t walk if they’ve ever thought about walking. Technology was advanced enough now where if you were rich enough could get your hearing fixed completely. There were still hearing aids, more advanced ones now then when you were younger.

You wanted to be able to hear.

    But at the same time you didn’t. If now you were able to suddenly hear things it would throw you off completely. The readjustment to your surroundings would be bothersome you found. Not to mention the fact that you would have to re-learn some things. Was it really worth changing your perspective on the world? You’d thought about it numerous times but decided that you were perfectly content with how you were. You pulled away from the android when he moved to sit down next to you. He raised his hand and moved it to the side of his head just behind his ear. You watched with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

    He pulled his hand away, something that looked like it could be some key now sat in his hand. “What is it?” you signed motioning towards the key-like object. Connor then grabbed your hand and placed the small object in your palm. “This is my audio processor. It is what allows me to hear.” He explained through a series of hand gestures. You studied the processor more closely, bringing it closer to your eyes. It was strange holding something that was vital to one of Connor’s senses. This small object in your hand was the key to allow Connor to hear. That meant at the moment that he couldn’t hear anything.

    The sensation must have felt strange for him. His LED was spinning a mild yellow as he looked around. The next thing he did was pull a quarter from his pocket and began to toss it between his two hands. The yellow colour of his LED began to spin faster as he continued performing the coin tricks. He pocketed the silver coloured quarter a minute after and proceeded to raise his hand and snap his fingers. You watched him in utter amusement as he did several things that emitted sound only to not be able to hear any of them. You watched as the amusement on his face quickly turned to sadness.

    His brown eyes softened when he looked back to you. So this was how your world was every single day? Silent, soundless. It was scary how quiet it was. Several bright red notifications were flashing in his peripherals about the loss of the component. A new found respect towards you was formed. If anything this only made him love you even more. “You can put it back in if you would like.” He signed over to you with a small smile. You stood on your knees and shuffled over on the bed to sit behind him. Cautiously you touched the space behind his ear, drawing in a breath as the synthetic skin around the area faded to white.

    There was a space where the audio processor was missing from. You inserted it slowly in fear of accidentally hurting him. For a moment he winced hearing a few painful crackles, the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard, before all of the noises around you two came flooding back to him. You noticed how he winced once the audio processor was pressed into the side of his head. “I’m sorry.” You signed repeatedly. Before you could apologize again he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips. A yawn escaped your lips, you really were tired. You had been dozing off all day. He let go of your hands, “You should sleep.” He signed.

    He was probably right, you should sleep. You climbed off of the bed and changed into something more comfortable, his eyes lingering on your frame the entire time. His gaze as he watched you was more loving than anything else. You climbed back onto the bed and underneath the blankets a few minutes later. Connor was lying beside you, one arm tucked underneath his head and the other resting across his stomach. You reached over and flicked the lamp off, room flooding with inky black darkness instantly. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was a pair of cool lips pressed against the space between the back of your ear and your hair.

A/N: I can keep continuing this as long as you guys are enjoying it. Personally, I find this interesting and different and I’m fine with either continuing or leaving it as it is! For those who have tags that aren’t working I’m really sorry but when I try to tag you your account doesn’t come up.

Tags: @layinglonely @maiden-of-gondor @lizzietheizzie @dbhconkarmar @shadowyenthusiastbird {tag not working} @hayleyarts @bithepowerofgay @demonboy99 {tag not working}

[threewaysdivided]

Idea for an Age-swap AU

We’ve recently seen some age-swap and role-swap AUs floating around the DP fandom.  The most common of these are the direct reversals, where Vlad is the teenage protagonist and Danny is the adult villain.   Now, I’m not the hugest fan of the straight-swap versions because it’s not particularly interesting or in-keeping with the canon characters.  If Danny becomes the amoral villain and Vlad the plucky protagonist then you basically just have the original Danny Phantom again, except with the characters wearing each other’s skins.

However, a version of the age-swap that keeps the characters closer to their canon personalities has great comedy potential.

Imagine this:

Young!Vlad is a disaffected but highly intelligent freshman whose ‘genius’ is seemingly unrecognised by everyone in town.  Pretty much everything sucks for him - he’s bored at home because his parents are always away on work, he’s bored in class because he finds the material too easy, the school’s head jock and posse make a policy of ruining his day, the student body president is ‘inept’, and - despite Vlad’s intelligence and apparent ability to analyse people - he never seems to make it into the spheres of the influential or popular classmates.    He’s aloof and vaguely disdainful towards everyone around him, except for his two best friends; the naive and eccentric but occasionally brilliant Young!Jack, and the beautiful and sharply intelligent Young!Maddie.  He hangs out with them partly due to their mutual interest in the paranormal, but also because Maddie is the only person in town he sees as an equal and he really wants to date her (too bad she’s always making eyes at Jack).   [If you’re looking for a reference he’s basically a cross between Sue Townsend’s Adrian Mole and Velma Dinkley from Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated]

Like in the original series, the three of them attempt to build a proto-ghost portal as a step in their research.  This one goes even worse (after all, it was built by teenagers) and Jack rushing to activate it gets Vlad blasted with way more ectoplasm than in canon.  Just like the original it lands him in hospital for a bit - but in this case only a few months.  On coming back to school he is very resentful (mostly towards Jack though he’s a bit miffed that Maddie didn’t come to visit his room while he was awake) both for the accident and the Danny-like power-problems he’s experiencing.  Although in Vlad’s case he hides them from his friends and outwardly acts like everything’s been forgiven.

As he gains controls of his powers, Vlad decides to put them to use ‘correcting’ some of the ‘wrongs’ in his life; serving disproportionate comeuppance to the jocks, subtly embarrassing Jack in from of Maddie, scheming and manipulating his way through the school’s systems, and generally messing with people to alleviate his boredom.

It basically turns into a Deathnote-like moral situation, in which Vlad is a nominal ‘hero’ on the best days and an entitled, arrogant person at worst.  He may be the protagonist but he’s sure not the ‘good guy’ of this story. (He still makes himself a vampire-style suit and goes by Plasmius in ghost-mode because despite being highly intelligent he’s also a dumb 14-year-old who unironically thinks it looks cool.)

How does Danny get involved?

While Vlad is still in the nominally-heroic part of the story (dishing out retributions to people who actually had it coming, chasing away some minor ghosts that were attracted by the portal explosion, manipulating outcomes that fix genuine problems etc.) he starts to notice an older person hanging around and following him. At first Vlad’s concerned - has someone caught on?  Is it an enemy ghost?  A rival trying to take out the competition? - until Phantom introduces himself.  Danny’s a lot of things but subtle is not one of them.

Older!Danny is in his early 30s.  His parents were some of the first modern ecto-scientists and successfully built a working portal (the source of the accident that gave him his powers) but because the hauntings stayed localised near the portal (never spreading beyond his own hometown) their ecto-research didn’t reach mainstream science beyond a few ‘professional ghost-hunters’, paranormal aficionados and an obscure branch of government that mostly just makes messes bigger in their attempts to ‘contain and study all unauthorised ectoplasmic entities’.

Despite his unease, Danny is honestly happy to meet another half-ghost. He might have reservations about actual teaching (“I’ve got an Engineering degree, not a Dip. Ed.”) but he genuinely wants to help this new kid through what he remembers being a tough period of power-adjustment and guide him to use his abilities productively.   Unfortunately, Vlad is having none of it - who is this condescending fool to tell him what to do?  In his eyes Phantom is either trying to recruit him so that he can use his power (after all, that’s what Vlad would do) or he’s an idiot for wasting such potential. Actually, he must be an idiot either way because who else would try to manipulate someone of Vlad’s intelligence?

Eventually this devolves into a cat-and-mouse game in which Young!Vlad uses his brains and abilities in attempts to manipulate his way into Maddie’s affections, positions of influence and possession of powerful items, with Phantom having to step in and ‘defeat Plasmius’ before someone gets hurt.  Unlike in canon, where Vlad mostly toys with Danny to demonstrate his superiority, Young!Vlad learning techniques from their fights is intentional on Older!Phantom’s part. Phantom really wants to give this kid a chance to turn things around, and figures that letting Plasmius experiment with his powers in a relatively safe space might help Vlad get under control and avoid the temptation to do something truly stupid.  Unfortunately, all this actually does is teach his accidental-arch-rival to be a more competent villain.

Shenanigans ensue:

Vlad deliberately creating dangerous situations so that he can impress Maddie by ‘dramatically rescuing’ her from the ‘evil Plasmius’.  What he forgets is that, under her pretty face, Maddie is a top-tier asskicker - at least a third of the time the love of his life hands his ecto-hide to him long before Phantom can intervene. He’d find it attractive if it wasn’t so humiliating.

Jack also proves disturbingly competent with his ‘anti-creep stick’.  It’s literally just a baseball bat with a cross-stitched handle and the club logo sprayed on the side but Vlad still makes a point of stealing and destroying them whenever Jack makes a new one.

Maddie concludes that Plasmius and Phantom are both evil and working together.  

Vlad: “Of course, but as the older and stronger, Phantom is clearly in charge.  If we get rid of him then surely Plasmius will leave.”

This results in Vlad doing a very careful dance whenever he and Danny are in ghost mode while Maddie and/or Jack can see them.

In attempt to ‘eliminate the competition’ Vlad considers alerting the Guys in White to Phantom’s status.

Danny: “Look, kid. Vlad. If you go to them with that intel they’re going to wonder how you got it.  I might survive - my company holds the patents for a lot of their tech - but you’re a high-schooler.  You really want to risk outing both of us?”

This is one of the few things they eventually agree on: Under no circumstances is anyone to intentionally involve the GIW.

Vlad tries to recruit other ghosts in attempt to keep Phantom distracted.

This mostly consists of him failing to intimidate Skulker with his scrawny teen stature, then flattering him into it because “surely as the first and strongest of his kind Phantom would be a much worthier prize for such a skilled hunter.”

He has more luck with the resentful Yiddish vultures, although they can’t do much beyond being a nuisance.

The Box Ghost offers his services.  Repeatedly.

Vlad travels to Amity Park in attempt to steal ecto-tech from Fentonworks.  On arrival he is horrified to see just how haunted the town is due to its permanently active portal.  He beats a fast retreat after getting cornered and resolves to come back with better plans.

Vlad returns to Amity Park in attempt to recruit more minions from the thronging masses. This is somewhat successful, but a few rogue ghosts follow him home - forcing him to try to contain the situation while hiding it from Maddie and Jack.

Youngblood starts messing with Vlad’s schoolmates (interfering with some of his social schemes in the process).  As an adult Danny is incapable of seeing him, and Maddie and Vlad’s tendency to act older than their age means that Jack is the only one with a real handle on the situation.  Eventually (to his intense horror) Vlad has to do things Jack’s way to solve the problem

Jack: “You know what V-Man, I’m glad to have you back.  You’ve been so serious these last few months, I was worried you’d forgotten how to have fun!”

Vlad: *audible teeth-grinding*

Vlad refuses to swear because he thinks it’s a sign of inferior intellect and therefore beneath him.  Danny doesn’t swear because he’s desperately trying not to teach this kid any more bad habits.

Vlad makes a deal with Technus to steal some software for use in a financial scheme. Too bad that they make this arrangement in the same week that local Information Technology rising-star Tucker Foley is invited to speak at the school’s career day.

Vlad’s plans failing because his ‘superior intellect’ leads him to over-engineer excessively complex schemes.

Danny: “You know you could just have done this, right?”

Plasmius later tries Phantom’s suggestion and Danny is kicking himself because darn it I was trying to get him to knock it off, not give him pointers.

Vlad attempting subtler social schemes (e.g. overshadowing staff and student council members to make changes).  These sometimes work but other times Jack messes up the plan with his overenthusiastic support for his ‘best friend’.

Danny eventually recruiting one of Vlad’s classmates Red-Huntress-style because look, I’m running my parents company, volunteering at the observatory and trying to keep the ghosts under control.  I can’t be constantly flying to another town to make sure Plasmius isn’t bringing on the ecto-apocalypse.

Out of respect for Vlad’s privacy Danny doesn’t reveal the secret identity thing. Instead he asks them to keep Plasmius under control and also look out for Vlad Masters because the ghost might be interested in him.

What Danny didn’t notice was that this kid really doesn’t like Masters and has a pretty big grudge against Plasmius after being on the receiving end of one of his schemes.  What should have been a simple recon job instead ends up with them aggressively pursuing an intense rivalry with both of Vlad’s halves.  They also get overzealous in their ecto-hunter task and start going after Phantom as well.  So now Danny has two problems.

Jazz Fenton (a qualified and practicing psychologist in this AU) takes a job as the school’s councillor.

While there she works to convince Vlad of the benefits of altruism, tries to wheedle him into confessing his connection to Plasmius (Danny told her everything) and attempts to foil his social manipulations.  The first two aren’t met with much success but she does get in the way of the third a few times.

For his part Vlad tries different schemes to get her fired or make her leave so that he can continue plotting without interference.

Vlad sneaks into the Ghost Zone in attempt to steal a powerful item (Ring of Rage, Pandora’s box, the Fright Knights Soul Shredder etc.).  This goes about as badly you’d expect.  Unlike in canon, where Vlad bails and makes Danny deal with it, Older!Phantom drags Young!Plasmius back by the ear because you made this mess so now you’re going to help clean it up.

Phantom: “So, did we learn anything today?”

Plasmius: “I should do more research before handling powerful objects.”

Phantom: *aggrieved sigh* “You know kid, I honestly thought you were smarter than this.”

Whether Young!Vlad eventually learns his lesson or keeps spiralling until he becomes a canon!Vlad level criminal chessmaster is something that could go either way.  

What I’m getting at is:  Can someone please do a version of the age-swap AU where Vlad Masters/Plasmius is an intellectually snobbish, overly theatrical, entitled adolescent ‘mastermind’ (who isn’t quite as bright as he thinks) and Danny Fenton/Phantom is the well-intentioned and experienced adult hero (but poor teacher) who really wants to give this kid a second chance but is getting more and more done with all the villainy nonsense.

[lalainajanes]

45 and 53

45. chocolates of romance + 53. mutual pining. This is the last of the trope x trope prompts!

Sweet As

Caroline’salways a bit tired the morning after the full moon but, given how many of herneighbors also feel the moon’s effects, she’s far from the only one. She doesn’t turn furry and spend thenight racing through the forests. She just sacrifices sleep to prep for therush of wolves that pop by her café the following morning.

She’d notedthe ragged edges of her customers her first month in business, how even thededicated caffeine freaks chose hot chocolate, how all the non-chocolate dessertselections got passed over. Still new in town she hadn’t quite been able to puther finger on the reasons for the change. Her neighbor had filled her in.

Bonnie’s awitch, a powerful one from an old family, and Caroline had learned long agothat witches made better allies than enemies. One never knew when a protectionspell would be needed – sometimes the urge to put down roots was too strong forher to fight and she could be slow to wake when comfortable in her tree. Bonniehad been slow to trust but, helped out by her kick ass snickerdoodle recipe,Caroline had managed to win her over.

Uponlearning that her new town housed a large pack of werewolves, as well asfrequent wolf-y visitors, Caroline had recognized a business opportunity.Chocolate helped with a wolves recovery from turning, provided a much neededpost moon pick me up. As an admitted chocoholic Caroline had developed a decentrepertoire of recipes to soothe her own cravings.

Using themfor profit? A no brainer. The day after the full moon has become one of the busiestof the month, helps to pad her emergency funds nicely.

She usesthe tips to buy herself something pretty. Caroline figures she deserves it. Shespends the night at the shop, first slaving over a hot oven, later crashing onthe couch in her office. Her home is surrounded by forests and while she’sstrong enough to fight off a werewolf she likes the town, it’s quirky mix ofsupernatural types and oddball humans. She sees no need to rock the boat byinjuring one of the wolves, or risk the pack retaliating. They steer clear ofher cherry grove, likely able to sense the magic of it even better in theirwolf forms. Caroline appreciates it, would like for her little bubble of peaceout in the forest to stay pristine.

When thebell above the door chimes, a familiar frame slipping inside, Caroline’sbleariness instantly melts away. She straightens as Klaus pushes the door shutfirmly, locking out the chilly fall air. She wriggles her fingers in anenthusiastic greeting – it’s been a couple of days since she’d seen him last. Hesmiles, weaving through the mostly empty tables and chairs to get to thecounter.

Perhaps the leader of the werewolf pack has somethingto do with her desire to keep the peace. A smallsomething. He’s very nice to look at,walks and talks with a confidence that she can’t help but be intrigued by.

They’ddanced at the town’s fall festival a few nights ago and Caroline’s beenthinking way dirtier thoughts ever since she’d gotten up close and personalwith the way his body can move. He’s been busy with pack business, hasn’tstopped by, probably a good thing because Caroline probably would have blushedhighlighter pink had she run into him that first morning.

She’d neverviolate the health code the way they had in her dreams but taking Klaus’ coffeeorder with the images so fresh in her mind would have been awkward. Today, witha few days to let the images settle, she’s able to smile back and flip herponytail over her shoulder, confident she can have a completely normal, onlymildly to moderately flirty conversation with him.

Withoutstaring at his mouth, hopefully.

A goodthing because she does like talkingto him. He’s funny in a way that skews slightly mean, so Caroline’s beencomfortable enough to drop her perky customer service façade drop and beherself.

She pourshim a mug of hot chocolate as he leans a hip against the counter. “How wouldyou like it today?” she asks.

His lipscurl, a challenge sparking in his eyes, “Surprise me.”

Huh. That’snew. She thinks back, running through the list of things she’s seen himconsume, but Klaus’ tastes are varied, he rarely orders the same thing. She’staken it as a personal challenge, mentally pats herself on the back when heasks for something a second time.

Makes sureit pops up in the bakery case more often.

She drumsher fingers on the counter, twisting to consider the row of flavored syrups andpowders and toppings she has. “If I had a liquor license this would be easier.”She’s run into him at the bar plenty of times and he’s much pickier aboutbooze. It’s always bourbon on the rocks, from a fancy, slightly dusty, bottlethat Enzo seems to pull out just for him.

Klaus makesa low sound, a laugh he tries to swallow, “Ouch. Not sure that’s a flatteringstatement, love.”

The curl ofhis lips doesn’t fall and Caroline has no problem scoffing. “Please. I didn’tmean it like that. It’s a pretty well known fact that werewolves can hold theirliquor. Besides, even if it was a dig yourego can handle the blow.”

“PerhapsI’m feeling fragile. I did break most of the bones in my body not four hoursago.”

She turnsback to him, running her eyes over his body anew, looking for signs of aninjury. Klaus’ pack had been hosting another from a territory on the coast. Afew strangers had wandered into her shop, had been pleasant enough, if a littleintense. She’d felt like a butterfly pinned under glass a time or two when she’dcaught one of them studying her.

She’dfigured they’d just been trying to figure out what she was. Dryads are muchrarer than wolves or witches.

She wracksher memories, trying to remember if she’d said anything about Klaus to thevisiting wolves. She hopes they hadn’t been hanging out at her place in hopesof spotting one of his weaknesses. Klaus doesn’t often mingle outside the pack.Caroline is well aware that his attempts to get to know her are an anomaly.

She hasn’theard anything this morning about the meetings going awry, had assumed they’dall happily howled at the moon together last night, but none of her wolfcustomers had been particularly talkative. They’d all been too focused oninhaling as many chocolatey confections as possible. Perhaps it had been a postbattle fatigue, not just the regular human to wolf to human transformationfatigue.

The urge toround the counter, to touch him and check for injuries, is nearly overwhelmingand Caroline presses her hands to the chipped wood to still herself. Pressingher hips to his in time to music was one thing. Tearing his shirt off mid-morningand running her hands all over him is another. “Are you alright?” she asksanxiously. “I can pop next door and see if Bon has…”

Klaus’ handcovers hers, pressing down until her tense fingers relax, “I’m perfectly fine.”

The tensionleaks from her and she straightens, attempting to recover her former perkiness,“Glad to hear it! But you’ll be better once we get some chocolate in you.”

She turnsfrom him again, hopes he doesn’t notice the slight shake of her hands.

Apparentlyher feelings for Klaus had tipped beyond the slight crush point. It would havebeen nice to not have that realization rightin front of him.

Carolinecan feel him watching her, resists the urge to glance over her shoulder and seeif she can read his expression. She works quickly, adding a hint of the spicysyrup she makes herself, a healthy dollop of whipped cream, and a pinch ofcinnamon.

It’ssignificantly more frou frou than anything she’s ever seen him drink but he’sthe one who’d pointed out his recently broken bones. She slides it over, “Enjoythe extra calcium.”

He dips hisfinger into the mound of whipped cream and Caroline ducks down, sliding open doorto the small refrigerator behind the counter. She doesn’t trust herself not tostare should Klaus do what most people do with a whipped cream coveredfingertip. His quiet hum of enjoyment has a small shiver racing up her spine.

He’s made asimilar in her fantasies a time or two.

She’d hiddenaway some things just for him and she sets two plates on the counter in frontof him. He’s surprised, his eyes widening, but she can see that he’s pleasedtoo. Still, a pang of self-consciousness washes over her. Before, when she’smade something she knows Klaus likes, she’d just plopped it in the case witheverything else and waited for him to stop by. This is more deliberate. Anobvious signal. Caroline smooths an escaped curl away from her face, “I madethe chocolate cherry cheesecake brownies that you liked. And I had some extracherries so I figured…”

Looking atthe plate, the artfully arranged chocolate cherries, Caroline can’t believethat she’s just now considering howthe freaking romantic implications of the gesture.

“I figured…”she stutters, barely noticing that she’s repeating herself.

Klaus turnsaway from her, finding Marcel sitting in a booth across the shop. “Marcellus,”he says, firm and commanding in a way that is not helping Caroline get herhormones under control at all, “Ineed to speak with Caroline for a moment. Privately. Mind her shop, will you?”

Itobviously hadn’t been a question because Klaus takes a few quick steps, flipsup the top of the counter, and eases behind it. He reaches for her, his longfingers gentle as they wrap around her elbow. He nods behind her, “Shall we usethe kitchen? Or perhaps your office?”

The pullout bed is still open in her office and Caroline suspects if they enter thatroom they won’t be doing much talking.

And whilethat wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world she thinks they need to clarify athing or two before any hot office sex happens.

“Kitchen,”she says.

Klausreleases her, his hand skimming down her arm. He nods to the swinging door,snatching up the plates she’d set out for him. “Ladies first,” he murmurs.

A quicklook around the shop tells her that the few customers are watching themcuriously. Marcel’s slid out of the booth and when she catches her eye he seemsamused. “Don’t burn down my shop,” she warns, before she leads Klaus into thekitchen.

She hearstwo clinks and then he’s grasping her arm again, stopping her motion. She canfeel him hot against her back and when his hand hovers over her stomach shepresses it down, against her. His lips brush the side of her neck and Caroline’sknees go unsteady as she leans into him. He inhales deeply against the curve ofher shoulder. “You do smell of me,”he rumbles. “I half thought that a taunt.”

Okay, thatwas weird.

“I what?”she asks, the words shriller that she’d meant them to be.

“What doyou know of mates, Caroline?”

She peelsherself away from him, circling until the steep prep table is between them. She’stempted to put her flushed face to the cool surface, maybe that would help herthink. “Mates,” she repeats. “Pretty common amongst supernatural species.Varying degrees of free will are involved.”

It’s a ceremonywith Dryads, a binding of souls, old and complicated. It’s written in a bookCaroline’s mother had gifted her with when she’d left home. She’d skimmed it,ages ago, hadn’t figured she’d ever need it.  

Maybe she’dbeen wrong.

Klausshifts, seemingly restless. He looks… nervous, a state Caroline’s never seenfrom him. “I don’t know that I consciously chose to mark you when we dancedaround that bonfire. I wanted it, certainly, but I’d always planned to broachthe subject while we were sober and aware. But between the punch and the magicin the air it happened and I couldn’t stop myself once I realized.”

“Sorry, butyou marked me? How?” There’s been nobiting, not even a kiss. They’d just danced, for ages, yes, from sunset to thewee hours, but Caroline doesn’t remember any marking.

“It’smagic, sweetheart. Mine reaching out to yours to signal my intent. Had you beena wolf you would have smelled it. I’m sorry I didn’t think to explain beforenow.”

Carolineducks her head, attempting to smell herself, glaring at Klaus when his lipsquirk up like he’s going to smile. She smells like she always does, like thevanilla lotion she uses and baked goods (it’s an occupational hazard but no onecomplains), a hint of fresh cherries and the forest that always lingers, nearlyunnoticeable. Super senses aren’t a part of the Dryad bag of tricks, however. “Idon’t smell you,” she says.

“My packdid. I do too. It’s faint but it’s there. I imagine our recent werewolfvisitors did as well.”

“That mightexplain the weird looks,” Caroline mutters. Klaus’ eyes narrow and she cuts himoff before he can say anything that will annoy her, “Will it go away?”

“Should youdecide that you don’t want me after all it will fade. A wolf’s scent onlylingers when a mate is receptive.” His satisfaction is obvious, in both histone and his face, a hint of gold shining around the edges of his pupils. Heplucks one of the cherries from the plate, popping it into his mouth. His eyesflutter closed in pleasure as he chews and Caroline swallows hard, fights theurge to go to him once more.

This timeit’s not worry that’s causing the itch in her fingertips.

When he’sdone his eyes drift open slowly, darker than before, lit with a hunger that hasnothing to do with food. “Are you, Caroline? Receptive, I mean?”

She’s notthe least bit surprised he wants her to say it. She lifts her chin, “I wouldn’thave made you those if I wasn’t. Everyone else gets the cherries I pick up atthe market, you know.”

He goesstill, eyes darting from her to the plate. Then he’s circling the table, fasterthan she’s ever seen him move in public. She lifts up onto her toes when heburies his hands in her hair, moans when his open mouth settles over hers. Helicks into her mouth, all certainty and want, kisses her like it’s all he’sbeen wanting. He tastes like cherries and chocolate, the tiniest hint of cinnamon,and she wishes she’d been bold enough to make a move months ago.

When helifts her onto the counter she stops thinking about much of anything, too busytracing the flexing muscles of his torso under his shirt.

A crashfrom outside breaks them apart and they take a moment to tug their clothes backinto place and smooth their clothes before they venture back into the shop.Their hasty attempt at hiding what they’d been doing fools no one and Carolinecatches quickly hidden smiles and hears smothered titters. Marcel is attemptingto sweep up a broken pile of china and Klaus shoots him a glance that’spositively murderous.

Carolinemakes him a new hot chocolate on the house. His timely interruption had saved her from violating the healthcode so he deserves it. Klaus clearly doesn’t agree but his temper is easy enough to cool. Caroline tells him to pick her upfor dinner at six, smirks and murmurs that they’ll pick up where they left offafter dinner.

She offersto bring dessert.

[quarterfromcanon]

Such Sweet Nothing

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 8 - Confession [1,362 words]

Heather swung the car keys around her finger while she walked Valencia to the apartment. They took the stairs and Valencia chattered about former yoga students. Her body was so close to her new friend that Valencia’s hip bumped against Heather multiple times as they ascended. Heather was reasonably sure that it was unintentional, but either way she was annoyed with herself for how it made her stomach dip. 

They reached Valencia’s door and Heather stowed the keys in her jeans. She stood with her hands in her pockets and gave Valencia a farewell nod.

“Thanks for letting me dodge my family and spend the day with yours. I don’t think I could’ve dealt with the Josh-shaped elephant in the room,” Valencia admitted. “Do you want to maybe come inside? Hang out for a little longer, just the two of us?”

Heather shrugged but stepped closer and waited for Valencia to unlock the door. “Sure.”

Valencia beamed. “Yay! Okay, good.”

Heather leaned against the door frame and watched her in profile, unable to stop the affectionate smile that spread across her face. Valencia swung the door open and Heather followed her into the apartment. 

She had glimpsed some of the space over Valencia’s shoulder when she picked her up that morning, but now Heather was able to get a more complete view. The furnishings appeared to be much the same as they had likely been while Josh still shared those quarters, but a few signs of Valencia’s new life were scattered here and there. A jar labeled Rebecca’s J.C. Fine was tucked into the corner of her counter. It was already half full of fives, tens, and twenties crinkled from the impact of Rebecca grudgingly handing her money over every time she slipped and mentioned their mutual ex. A printed copy of one of their group selfies was beside the TV. The receipt from their second hangout at Sugar Face was tucked under the frame. 

“Do you want some water?” Valencia offered. “It’s kind of the only thing I keep in my fridge.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Valencia pulled a couple of tall white boxes off the top shelf. She walked past Heather toward the sliding glass doors leading onto a small balcony. “Let’s drink these outside. I’m almost never out here except to water my plants, and it feels so nice right now.”

Heather did not need to be persuaded. She helped Valencia carry out cushions and dropped onto one of the two waiting chairs. Valencia was right; the temperature in West Covina had been predictably warm while the sun was up but, now that it was past nightfall, a pleasant breeze rustled through the potted plants and skittered across their skin.

“Your parents seem really sweet,” Valencia praised.

“Yeah, they’re good with guests.” Heather opened her water and drank.

“But not with you?” Valencia asked.

Heather stopped short. She re-closed the container and gave a noncommittal twitch of her shoulders. “It’s a weird thing to try to explain.”

“Explaining weird things is something you do best.” Valencia reached over and poked Heather on the arm. “You do it for me all the time.”

The compliment hit its mark. Heather took a moment to weigh her response and find a condensed way to elaborate.

“They have this habit of being sorta mean while they’re being nice. It’s not deliberately passive-aggressive, but it’s still bogus.” Heather tapped the box against the inside of her palm. “I tried calling them on the problem once, right after I found out I was gonna have enough money to move, but I still don’t think they fully get what I was trying to make them understand.”

Valencia frowned but politely remained silent. Heather suspected she was making a concentrated effort to prove herself a good listener. It was working. Even though Heather typically avoided a full-length rant on the subject, the sincere attentiveness behind Valencia’s eyes coaxed out the words with an inexorable pull.

“Like they say, old habits die hard.” Heather picked at a damaged seam on her pants. “This was my first time coming back for a visit since I left. I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the whole day dealing with them being all surprised over every good thing I’ve got going for me now. Thank god, they were mostly focused on you.” She tucked her hands under her thighs in an effort to stop fidgeting. “They love me, I know they do, and I love them back but I just get so tired of how their view of me never seems to change. You’d think I was pulling sleight of hand tricks the way they ooh and aah. Replacing their daughter with a functional adult. Well, amateur magic is stupid and their behavior is crap.”

Heather crossed both arms over her chest and slumped in the chair. Her gaze slid to Valencia’s face and she smiled a little.

“I guess you kinda saved me from my family today, too,” Heather acknowledged.

Valencia smiled back. “I’m glad.”

She extended her legs in Heather’s direction. Heather reciprocated and they pressed the soles of their shoes together, swaying their feet from side to side.

“I get what you mean about parents never celebrating your positives the right way,” Valencia commiserated after a beat. “My mom’s like that too, but she’s in no denial about being hypercritical. It’s supposed to be ‘for my own good,’ but it’s not. I’m my dad’s favorite so that kind of helps to balance things out, I guess. I just wish that meant he'd stand up for me when she’s nitpicking about things that shouldn’t truly matter.”

“Parents can seriously suck,” Heather declared. “I’m so glad I’m not living with mine anymore.”

“Same here. Since it’s Labor Day, we should celebrate all the work we do putting up with their shit.”

Heather laughed and Valencia grinned in response.

“My mom and dad really did like you, though, for what it’s worth,” Heather told her. “They weren’t just being good hosts.”

A flicker of hesitant optimism crossed Valencia’s features. “You really think so? Parents don’t usually like me. Josh’s didn’t.”

Heather gave Valencia’s foot a light, encouraging kick. “New you, new rules.”

Valencia thought that over for a minute and held out her drink. “To making our own rules?”

Heather’s mouth turned up at the corner in a half-smile. “Yeah, why not? Cheers.”

They tapped their boxed waters against each other and giggled at the different sound it produced making a toast with paper rather than glass.

Heather set aside her container and regarded Valencia in the silence that followed. The recent haircut made her appear softer somehow, less severe than the leonine cascade she had when they met. Her shorts left her toned calves and thighs on display, but after noticing this, Heather resolutely averted her eyes. Appreciating her friends’ bodies in a slightly-less-than-platonic way was not a foreign experience. Heather knew she casually contemplated Rebecca in that light more than once, but this felt different. Dangerously different. What sometimes manifested as a fleeting and harmless curiosity was now too wrapped up in warm feelings after a day of bonding.

Rookie move, Davis, she mentally reprimanded.

“Well, it’s getting late. I’d better get going,” Heather announced aloud. “Thanks again.”

“Same to you.” Valencia’s expression seemed to suggest she wouldn’t mind more time, but she followed Heather off the balcony to the front door without protest.

Heather turned the handle and stepped into the night.

“Hey, Heathe?”

A diminutive she usually abhorred never gave her butterflies before then, and Heather knew that meant she was skating along the edge of trouble with a capital T. She took a deep breath and turned back around to face Valencia.

“Yeah?”

Valencia threw her arms around Heather’s neck and hugged her. It took Heather a fraction of a second to recover, but then she slowly returned the embrace.

“I’m really glad I have you for a friend,” Valencia murmured against her shoulder. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you now.”

Heather gently pulled away. She tapped her palms against Valencia’s biceps and walked in reverse toward the stairwell. “Back at you, buddy.”

[sparklyjojos]

[THE CHILDISH DARKNESS Recaps, Chapters 1-2]

Note 1: As this book is a direct sequel, it requires good knowledge of the events of Smoke, Soil or Sacrifices (recapped here).

Note 2: Please be aware that the book revolves around a dysfuntional family, bad relationships, heavy depression and self-harm, and that the narrator might not be a very morally upstanding man.

Note 3: Do not believe his lies.

Note 4: Or do. It’s your call.

Note 5: Different people want to believe in different stories, after all.

[tw: gore, body horror, csa, suicide, sorta homophobic undertones?]

---

ONE

[Our narrator is Natsukawa Saburou, a writer of trashy mystery novels and one of the older brothers of Shirou, the narrator of Smoke, Soil or Sacrifices.]

Saburou recalls his time in middle school when he was concerned about possibly being gay and in denial, since he liked to suck girls’ fingers and that’s ALMOST like blowing a guy, RIGHT? But his actually gay friend Okamoto Yasuhiro, known as Okachi, said that Saburou didn’t seem to be actually gay. On the other hand, their mutual friend Kaede seemed to him to have some lesbian vibes. (The three often hanged out together.) Okachi also claimed that while there is a line between straight and gay, it’s faint and sometimes cannot be seen clearly.

--

When they were In high school, Kaede’s father died in a work-related accident, and she reacted to it by eating a tremendous amount of food and falling into a few days worth of sleep. While she was sleeping her left arm started to swell unnaturally. As it turned out, a womb-like structure had developed there, along with a fast growing fetus, which was cut out in surgery and then cut out again when the same unbelievable event repeated. Kaede’s family claimed that maybe it was the dead father trying to come back to help Kaede, as she had a stalker called Araki Kazuo.

Whether the dad thing was true or not, Saburou decided to solve the problem by beating up Araki. The two engaged in a lot of fights escalating to using weapons. After learning about the problem, Saburou’s brother Shirou said that maybe their older brother Jirou was right: just beating up a guy wasn’t enough, you had to use much more drastic measures. Saburou followed this advice as far as cutting Araki’s two fingers off, internally horrified at the act and how much the threats coming out of his own mouth sounded like something Jirou would say. Upon returning home he popped the fingers in the fridge in case one of Araki’s buddies asked to get them back (nobody did) and sat down to play the piano to calm himself down.

At that time Saburou loved to play the piano, but only a single piece: Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3. No other music resonated with him so much, and as the result he was a rather poor pianist. One day when he heard the musically gifted Jirou play Beethoven, he was struck by the artistry and emotion heard in the piece. [By struck I mean he even popped a boner and had to go deal with it, because this is Maijo Otaro’s book.] The difference in skill between them was obvious and depressing. Then Saburou noticed that Jirou in all his genius seemed to get quickly bored with each piece and just randomly choose what to play. Maybe Jirou had genius, but Saburou had just enough skill to play the one piece he loved. Maybe their approaches were both okay. It was hard to judge.

While playing, Saburou thought about how Araki had yelled that his stalking was the proof of his love for Kaede. Surely there was a ‘love’ there, much like both sides of an abusive relationship may be convinced of their ‘love’. Maybe Kaede’s dead father also tried to return out of ‘love’, oblivious to the fact that each time he only hurt his daughter more and more.

[And then Saburou tried to lick those cut off fingers in the fridge and was like ‘well, I’m disgusted, and since these belonged to a guy that clearly means I’m not gay!” ...Whatever you say, narrator.]

 TWO

What is a story?, the narrator is wondering. Why does it exist? Why don’t we employ our power of imagination solely to think of new ways to find shelter or food, but we need stories? Why do we need to give birth to fiction, something that doesn’t exist in this world? Why do we need the lies called a story?

The narrator believes that it’s because you can’t tell the truth using anything other than lies. Every writer knows that using a lie will make something seem more real than just faithfully recreating reality; will make deep emotions deeper. A story is a truth you want to tell, but told in lying words. Something that can ellicit joy greater than just plain laughter, or suffering greater than just normal pain. It’s not really something you explain as much as something you feel.

Maybe it’s not that the writer chooses a story, as much as the story has a chance meeting with the writer and can be transferred to others through him. Maybe that’s why no one can write just any story or pass down just any truth. The story is the one who conveys the truth by using the writer as a tool.

Certainly when Saburou was writing two novels in high school, The White Forest (白い森) and The Hymn (賛歌), he did want to convey truths: about commitment and detachment, and how one could at once be with others but still stay separated from them. When he came to write cheap mystery novels later, he ceased to be the tool of the story. Focusing on monetary gain, he wasn’t able to write something more real than reality.

Shirou noticed that and kept criticizing how stupid Saburou’s new novels were, how he’d sold himself out and that he’d become a factory producing the same thing in a different package over and over again, and even snapped one of Saburou’s books in half once. Saburou understood the point: he should be writing more important things and give his life some value. There was value to someone like Shirou, an ER surgeon saving lives every day, but Saburou didn’t really do nothing special.

After the recent case and Nozaki’s attack [see: Smoke, Soil or Sacrifices], 29-year-old Saburou started to feel like now that he had witnessed a true case, he wouldn’t be able to lie convincingly in his novels, and therefore would be unable to convey the truth. He gave up on the idea of turning the Nozaki case into a book, even if it’d bring a lot of money. Or maybe that was just his attempt to escape the reality of what happened.

Saburou called his editors and announced he’s not going to write anything anymore. He had stable income from a cram school he had once established (with an apt acronym of NAPS), and since nobody there really liked him coming around and trying to help, he could fill his time with whatever else he wanted.

At first he focused on sleeping with women. Many women, who tended to be the girlfriends and wives of his friends. So many women that in an attempt to take each one to a different hotel, he sort of ran out of all good hotels in Fukui, and only then realized how ridiculous this whole way of living was and maybe he should focus on something else.

For some time he was playing the piano in a club called Super Dash Penguins [clearly the greatest club name ever] near the Fukui station. He was doing pretty good when imitating famous jazz pianists, and maybe that was precisely what he was best at: not doing anything original of his own, just putting a little twist on something created by others.

--

Around that time, in March, Saburou accidentally witnessed a teenage girl burying a mannequin in the middle of a field. Quite suspicious activity, seeing as the case of Nozaki burying multiple women was still fresh in everyone’s mind. So when the girl then rode her bike past his car, he decided to stealthily follow her [while commenting about how pretty she is in a highly creepy way. Er, narrator? Please stop?]. She was circling between what seemed to be her house and various places in Nishi Akatsuki, each time taking a mannequin from the shed, riding to some remote place and burying it. Saburou decided to investigate the shed while she was out, but during his first attempt he was almost caught by a thin bespectacled man wielding a hoe – probably her father – so he had to return to the car and wait for a more opportune time.

At the more opportune time, Saburou managed to sneak inside the shed and found a map of Nishi Akatsuki with fourteen red pins. Six of them marked the locations of Nozaki’s attacks, and eight pointed to the places where the girl had buried the mannequins.

Unable to do a lot more, Saburou returned home. His mother was still in a coma, his father Maruo and oldest brother Ichirou were still hospitalized, and Shirou spent a lot of time at his girlfriend Atena’s place, so Saburou was usually completely alone in the Natsukawa house. On that day, though, Shirou was home and slammed a news article on the table in front of him. Together with a bag containing a pair of real human legs.

The article provided the names of people who had gone missing since February, all having the surnames Aoki or Aikawa, which fit the pattern that Nozaki used to choose victims. What’s more, the disembodied legs that probably belonged to a missing person were found buried in a location that would lie on top of Jawakutora’s spiral on the map of Nishi Akatsuki.

Saburou remembered the girl burying mannequins. While the points on her map seemed rather randomly chosen, she might have something to do with the copycat. Saburou was a little afraid that Shirou’s impulsiveness would result in him trying to punch the truth out of the girl, but it’s not like all Natsukawas didn’t have this sort of temper.

They arrived at the girl’s house. Shirou invited himself in and by being loud, flashy and acting like he had the full right to be here, got the girl’s father (who’s not the thin guy Saburou saw earlier) to show them her room. The father stated that the girl – Fuse Yurio – hadn’t shown any changes in behavior recently, but to be honest, she had always been a strange child in the first place.

Shirou in his chaotic investigation of Yurio’s room carelessly threw a lot of books on the ground: a lot of weird mystery novels in the vein of Nisio Isin and Seiryoin Ryusui, as well as a plethora of paranormal trash, mostly about UFO. (“Oh, look, now these are some really stupid books,” Shirou said throwing Saburou’s entire Runbaba series to the ground. Fair enough.)  Finally Shirou found a suspicious bundle of volumes held together with a rubber band saying DON’T TOUCH ME, using hundreds of tiny kanji for ‘death’ to make the letters. How very teenage. The bundle contained several tomes with novel-like titles, one of them called Runbaba Notebook and featuring a poor picture of very effeminately looking Runbaba.

Shirou noticed aloud that the first character of each title put together created a message: Dad comes into the room at night. The possible implication made Saburou so outraged he wanted to jump at Yurio’s father with fists before they even tried to make sure there’s really abuse going on, but Shirou managed to stop him. The father claimed that he had no idea what the message was about. Yurio was apparently weird enough to do a creepy thing like that randomly. Shirou decided he’d want to hear the explanation from the source, but it seemed Yurio didn’t have a cellphone he could call.

Further investigation revealed a file titled ‘suicide note’ on Yurio’s PC, containing a description of her being abused sexually by her father, and: “I just want to know that at least my life is my own. My body will soon disappear from this Earth.”

Saburou really did punch the father this time and Shirou had to hold him back to prevent carnage (“Sorry Mr. Fuse, this guy here loves kids and snaps when he hears about child abuse”). While Shirou acknowledged the abuse might really be happening, he also couldn’t ignore the possibility that this could be just a kind of a cry for attention on Yurio’s part, or that it may be a sort of self-harm done in one own’s imagination.

Shirou then found a set of school books and a middle school uniform, all unused, and only then did Saburou realize that the girl had been out in the fields during school hours. According to the father, Yurio had been homeschooled even since she’d refused to attend classes, probably because her unusual personality had made her a target for bullies. Shirou asked for a way of contacting Yurio’s peers that still were friends with her.

While the father left the room to put together a phone number list, Shirou scolded Saburou for punching people without thinking. “Seems you haven’t used your head properly in years! Is it going to take another dead Runbaba and closing yourself in that damn warehouse for you to actually think?!” Saburou didn’t have an answer to that. Shirou asserted that right now the most pressing issue wasn’t figuring out all the family’s issues, but finding Yurio, who might have really been planning suicide.

And so Saburou had to focus on thinking. He couldn’t afford another Runbaba, couldn’t just close himself off from the world in some dark place. Finding this girl was all that mattered, this girl who smelled of citrus fruit and would surely grow up into a beautiful woman one day [um, narrator, your focus on those things in a thirteen-year-old girl is kinda creepy].

Shirou got a call from his friend Sanbonsugi, who had been watching the place that those disembodied legs had been found at. Sanbonsugi witnessed the murderer coming back to the crime scene. The man’s description exactly matched that of the man with glasses that Saburou had seen snooping around Yurio’s house earlier.

Shirou found a mostly destroyed notebook in an oil drum used to burn trash, which could mean Yurio got rid of the evidence for whatever plan she had in mind. The map in the shed had a new addition that Saburou hadn’t seen earlier, a sentence scrawled on it: YOU CAN’T FIND ME.

The two brothers got moving through the town. Shirou called each person from the list that the father had provided and learned that apparently Yurio had a boyfriend. [“Don’t look so down about it, you lolicon,” Shirou said towards Saburou. Thanks for recognizing the creepiness, dude.] The boyfriend was a sixteen-year-old Hashimoto Takashi. (“Seems you’re not the only lolicon around, huh?”) The brothers split, Saburou searching for the boyfriend and Yurio, while Shirou went on to catch the glasses-wearing murderer.

Saburou was unsuccessful in getting any information from Hashimoto’s parents. They didn’t seem to be interested in their son’s life in the slightest and had no idea who Fuse Yurio was.

Meanwhile, Shirou and his friend caught the murderer while he was checking on the buried body parts. The guy was Takano Yoshiki from the neighboring town Nanjou, and when Shirou arrived at his house, inside he found Yurio’s boyfriend Hashimoto Takashi, dead from suffocation, still tied to a chair with tape.

After beating the shit out of Takano, Shirou discovered yet another map of Nishi Akatsuki covered with pins, this one portraying what Takano had been attempting to do by burying the body parts: draw a giant monkey similar to that of the Nazca Lines. Jawakutora’s spiral would create the monkey’s tail.

After Shirou called Saburou, and after they beat the hell out of Takano once again, they asked him about the reason for drawing the picture. Takano answered,

“For Great Jawakutora.”

This time it was Saburou who had to pull his brother away to prevent murder.

Saburou then found Hashimoto’s sports bag. Stuffed inside was an array of nine balls used in different sports as well as a globe. The soccer ball had a paper ring around it. It must have symbolized Saturn, the globe – the Earth, and the rest – the other planets and the Sun. Why would a high schooler lug those around? Why would the same high schooler be killed? Maybe he and Yurio planned to do something that interferred with Takano’s little project. That would explain why Takano had been hanging around her house with a hoe: to follow her and dig up the mannequins so they wouldn’t mess up his Nazca monkey design. But what image could be created using ten “celestial bodies” and eight mannequins... and six buried women?

Saburou couldn’t figure this out, but Shirou put two and two together as soon as he saw it, running to the nearby computer to search for it (using awful dial-up Internet, because this is early 2000s) and make sure.

The Pioneer plaque was sent to space twice, on board of Pioneer 10 and Pioneer 11. Aside from a drawing of two humans and the Pioneer probe, it also featured a message for the aliens on how to find the probe’s origin. The pulsar map using 14 pulsars -- that starburst shape on the left side of the plaque -- could be used to calculate the position of the Sun, and the drawing of the Solar System below pointed to the third planet from the Sun.

Ten objects of the Solar System, fourteen pulsars. Ten balls, six buried women and eight mannequins. A strange girl obsessed with UFO could definitely come up with something like this.

Shirou said that the pulsar map could be pointing them to where Yurio is. Her writing YOU CAN’T FIND ME might have meant that she desperately wanted to be found. Clearly, this was the time for Saburou to step in. Saburou replied that he wasn’t the one who had managed to find all those clues, but Shirou retorted that it had been Saburou who had already found Yurio once, and Shirou wouldn’t be able to figure the situation out without that.

So Saburou started to think about where Yurio could be. Maybe she and her boyfriend Hashimoto had planned to kill themselves so that their naked bodies would symbolize the man and the woman from the Pioneer plaque. If so, then maybe the additional fifteenth line of the pulsar map – the galactic plane – would point to them, just like it seemed to point to the two humans in the drawing.

Saburou put on his warmest clothes (even March is quite cold in Nishi Akatsuki) and walked deep into the dark mountains, moving along the ‘galactic plane’ towards the Hand Pond, called so after its characteristic hand-like shape. The lake seemed like an appropriate place for a meeting between two teens.

The mountain forest at night was cold and frightening, mostly because of the possibility of walking into a bear. But also because of an urban legend claiming that a family of cannibals known as Chiuhi lived in secret underground tunnels stretching all throughout the mountains, and that they’d be more than ready to pull a lonely wanderer like him into a hole and eat him.

Although what really scared Saburou was the possibility of Jirou somehow being there, that horrifying man ready to enact revenge on the family starting from his younger brother.

Finally Saburou caught the distant glimpse of the pond glinting with moonlight. Finally a spot of light in the oppresive darkness. Was Yurio still alive? Dead? If she had already died, then maybe exhausted Saburou could just lie next to her instead of Hashimoto and die too so her efforts wouldn’t be in vain, or something.

Upon arriving at the moonlit lake Saburou turned off his flashlight and became one with the darkness.

It wasn’t a bad feeling. Maybe once you’re caught by the very thing you’re afraid of, there’s no further point in fearing it.

In the quiet darkness, Saburou heard music coming from within him. Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3. He whistled to the tune and in response heard a small sound somewhere in the darkness. Was that Yurio? A bear? The Chiuhi? Jirou? A UFO full of aliens? He continued to whistle until someone asked, “Who’s there?” A girl’s voice with no discernible emotion.

Saburou thought that maybe it’d be better if aliens really showed up right now, responding to “the Pioneer plaque” or maybe “the Nazca monkey”. People had killed or were planning to die just to make these images. That’s why the aliens really should notice them and show up.

If Saburou was writing a novel about all this, he’d certainly make that happen.

A story passed from an enthusiathic creator to the recipient in the sky...

Even if it’d be a lie, that’d be okay. After all, it was the known truth of stories that a person’s great effort would without fail be noticed by someone else.

[>>>NEXT>>>]

[yamimori]

It’s been over 3 years,

And I want to put this out there, for the world to hear.

This is going to talk about some very heavy subjects, including emotional abuse, among other things. If this is a sensitive topic for you, or if you are somebody who follows me for my artwork, I am sorry, you are welcome to skip this post and forget it existed. But, my birthday is here in just a few days, and I want to get this off of my chest.

This post is happening because I recently decided to watch the 3-part series from Illymation’s Abusive Ex series on YouTube. I recommend you give that series a watch, and I will link it at the end of this post. I’m writing this up now because seeing somebody else do is giving me the confidence to do this now.

Before my confidence fails, I want to put down as much of this as I can.

The only other thing I want to point out now before we get into this is you can say whatever you want about me when I was younger, about my parents, about anything. I know, I was stupid, and naive.

When I was 10, I met a guy through a mutual friend on World of Warcraft. For the sake of this, we will call him Chad. Sorry to any Chads who read this. We were in an RP and we were shitposting in whispers about who knows what. He was 15 or 16 at the time. We ended up adding each other to BattleTag (RealID at the time) and we just ended up hanging out little by little over the months while we played WoW.

Over the span of a few months, he ended up slowly flirting with me bit by bit. And I was stupid at the time, and didn’t really realize it, honestly. I’ve never been good with knowing if somebody’s flirting with me, ask anybody who knows me personally, I guarantee they can tell you the same thing.

Over the months, when our friendship ended up turning more into a ‘relationship’, it escalated. From stupid things, like the mindless flirting and messaging me when I got online, to inserting himself into meeting my friends and talking to them, and making a lot of my friends dislike me, or outright stop talking to me. A lot of my friends stopped talking to me, or I, them. This was one of the mistakes I regret the most in my life, to this day.

This was, as I know now, grooming. Gaining my trust by hanging out with me, and gaining the trust of my closest friends at the time. Grooming is the act of gaining the trust or establishing a connection with a minor, for the purpose of a specific act.

This was not too long into our ‘relationship’, and Chad and I had sort of started officially ‘dating’ at this point.

And so much of our relationship at that point, already, even months into it, was control. He’d tell me stupid things about his family that I had no way of proving were real or not, but I went with it, and made up equally stupid things about mine. He’d purposely let his ‘friends’ (which for the sake of rationality, likely was just him putting on a facade) say horrible things to me. Call me a whore, tell me I was crazy, call me fat, so on. I let it happen. I didn’t deny any of their claims.

He’d tell me things about my friends that over the months, I was made to believe were true. He’d tell me they hated me, and that I didn’t need them, all while he was pulling at them from the shadows without me knowing. I lost so many friends over the course of our relationship, simply because I... never asked questions. 

When I go places with my mom, and wasn’t online, he would blow up my phone with messages asking where I was, why I wasn’t online. If I was asleep, he’d do the same, say I was ignoring him. When I was at school, in the shower, eating with my parents, all of it. It got to the point where he threatened to commit suicide, and then would go silent for hours on end. This quickly became the norm.

I would get random messages during the day about how he wanted to do it. Overdose, and guns were his favorites to talk about. And I mindlessly just agreed with him, already having been more than reprogrammed to be wrapped around his finger at this point. I was so just conditioned to believe that he was right, and that he was the only person I needed in life to be happy, that I was. Or, I thought I was, anyways. I didn’t talk to my friends. I didn’t talk to my family. I didn’t... really do anything. Friends would ask ‘How are you and Chad’ and I’d say ‘We’re okay’.

I never thought twice about it.

It escalated to pictures. Nothing ever completely NSFW, but close. Very, very close. And then to Skype calls with me in my underwear. Because he asked me to. And honestly, I got so used to just... going along with it, because I knew if I didn’t, he would threaten me. Threaten to fly to my house, and harm me, or to kill himself, or his family, among other things. And if I fell asleep, or got sick, or my phone died, or anything, I would get yelled at. But if I asked him to hang out, or wanted to show him something, I would never get a response, or would get pushed off.

I would get told I was fat and a whore when I didn’t go along with the calls, or pictures. I was told that nobody would ever love me again, if I left him.

I was told that I was worthless.

I was made to believe that I did not deserve any of the good things I had.

He told me I deserved it when my cat was hit by a car. He told me I deserved it when I had to leave my entire life behind in New Hampshire to move to California. He told me that I deserved to be ignored, and that I should kill myself on more than one occasion.

I feel like it is a given to say that I was depressed, at this point, as well.

I started dressing like how I was made to feel. Cheap. I dressed in things too revealing for my age, and talked about things too old for me. I felt disgusting in my body. He lived thousands of miles away from me, and yet I felt like I could feel all of the things he said about me, written into my skin for life. I could look in the mirror and feel nothing about myself.

I looked in the mirror and saw nobody. 

And yet, I played along. I didn’t comment when he made comments about how he wanted to get off to my pretty face. I didn’t comment when he said he wanted to bend me over the table. I didn’t comment when he said I deserved to be used, and forgotten. I didn’t comment when he told me that any kids I had would turn out to be whores, like I was.

I didn’t comment. On anything. I let it happen, because I was afraid of the backlash. I was afraid of the harassment, the threats of death and suicide that he held over me.

I spent almost two years in this cycle. I spent two years being torn apart at the seams, to the point where he made me suicidal. 

My mother found out. Right before our two year ‘anniversary’, she found out. And she stopped it. Immediately. This was in June of 2014, months before my 13th birthday. 

At the time, I was angry at her, in a way, and sad. I felt relieved, but I didn’t know it.

I felt hollow, and empty, like a part of me had just been ripped out of me. I felt like I had nobody left. I had spent so long dependent on him and his bullshit, that I didn’t know what freedom felt like.

I didn’t know who I was.

For the next year, maybe even two, I holed myself up in my room. I contemplated suicide. A lot. I thought that he was right. That I deserved to die. I didn’t contribute anything anyways, so what did it matter? I didn’t matter, people wouldn’t notice if I died, right?

I was lucky. I had people at my side who did care. They would notice.

They didn’t know what was going on.

I didn’t tell them.

I couldn’t.

I was ashamed, and I still am.

I found out that when we broke up, that his father did confiscate his computer, and went through it. There were hundreds of pictures of underage girls, the youngest age being around 7, some much more NSFW than others. It was given to the police.

I haven’t spoken to him, since we broke up. I have had zero contact with him since that day almost 4 years ago, and I beg to the Gods I never will.

Before you ask, “Why didn’t you say no? Or leave?” I tried. I tried over and over again, but the constant threat of death loomed over me. He had my address, he knew where I lived, he knew my only remaining friends. I was terrified. I was afraid that if I did, he would kill himself, or his family, and I would never know the difference of if he did or didn’t. And that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. I was 13, I can’t even handle now the thought that I could’ve ever contributed to somebody killing themselves, and I certainly wouldn’t’ve been able to then.

So I played along.

I stopped going outside. I became an almost complete hermit. I stopped showering, or eating. I felt disgusting, I looked disgusting to myself, so I stopped caring. I honestly just sat around and waited to die. That was my life. Warcraft, and Netflix.

Over the next year, I met some amazing friends, most that I still speak to even now, years later. And, they don’t know it, or they didn’t until now, but they helped me through so much that I can’t even put into words.

They pushed me out of my comfort zone, to feel comfortable around people again. To open up to them, without having to lie to make myself seem cooler or older than I was. They knew how young I was, and they were okay with that. None of them ever tried to stiff arm me into doing something that I wasn’t okay with doing. They showed me actual friendship that I hadn’t felt in almost three years, and it was... weird, to say the least.

 It’s been almost 4 years, with my 17th birthday this Friday. I’ve learned to be around people again, to trust them again, and it’s been a fucking battle, and I am proud to be where I am now.

I am ashamed of it, still, even now. The things he made me believe are still burrowed so deep inside of me, that even now, with years of therapy under my belt, they still linger. And my therapist now is even still helping me through them.

But, I’m here, aren’t I? I felt like, as a sort of personal pat on the back, to put my story out there, for other people who have been through emotional abuse to see, and read. And for them to know that they’re not alone. You are going to get through this. I’m here for you, I believe in you.

And to my friends, who have been with me, for the past 4 years, I love you all, so much. Thank you, for everything you have unknowingly helped me through, through the years. Thank you, for all of the late night Skype calls, Cards Against Humanity games, RP sessions and old raid runs.

You all mean the world to me.

This is not a post asking for pity. This is me saying that there are people out there like this. Things like this do happen, and that I was one of the lucky ones that had help from other people, to get me out of this situation before it got even worse than it already was.

I am writing this now, because it has been almost 4 years. And this is my gift to myself, this year. This is me giving a big fuck you to Chad. You can say it is fake, or just for notes all you want. But I wanted to get this out there, here, and now. This is my birthday gift, a big pat on the fucking back for myself for having gotten where I am now. With 250 followers on DA under my belt, a few hundred pieces of artwork, and the most caring friends I could ever ask for. 

So fuck you Chad.

Illymation’s Series: How I Met My Abusive Ex Boyfriend (Part1)