#i might even do tiny doodles in return

[crsinclair]

so here's the scoop

Actually before that, I wanna say that I've participated in the Erasermic Omegaverses Zine this year, can't remember if I yelled about that on here? I was a fic writer for that - if you like Erasermic and like ABO, here's the link to the collection on Ao3! Mind the tags on the individual fics, please! ANYWAY. I've had. A fucking. Time. Kinda a rant and also an explanation for why I've been absent and also why I linked my kofi at the bottom of this. A lot of shit happened!🙃 This summer, my Papa passed away. I loved him. I really did. He was funny, kind, and he took shit from absolutely no one. If it hadn't been him I would have said I wasn't going to go help out and I was just going to go to the funeral. But it was him, so I told my friends that I was going back to the city, and I was going to help settle everything, pack his things, etc, because I loved him. I should have stayed home. First of all, my family treated me like free labor and like shit while I was there to help out. Second of all, I got into a car accident on the way to the funeral and the guy who hit me tried to intimidate me into not calling the police before driving off - and yes, I was injured. Third, my family "expressed concern" over my injury and then proceeded to have me write the obituary, decorate the funeral room alone, and asked me to be a pallbearer while injured. I could go into so much more detail but I'll spare you the horror of My Family™️. I'm honestly surprised I made it home without collapsing. AND ON THAT NOTE: A week later, I did collapse. Dramatically, and with flair. I was recovering from both whiplash, grief, and having to spend time with My Family™️ and over at my friend's grandmother's house when suddenly I didn't feel well. I stood up to splash some water on my face, got into the restroom, realized, "Hm, this is more serious than Not Feeling Well, I should tell someone Right Fucking Now," wobbled back into the other room, told the grandmother that something was wrong, and then proceeded to collapse to the ground and have a heart attack. After that, my heart rate would not calm the fuck down and I had wild heart palpitations for the next seven hours! Yes, I went to the hospital. I have been to the hospital twice more after that, had several more doctor appointments, have had several tests done (including a Tilt Table test, which 0/10, do not recommend), and there's plenty more that I could talk about (like the Tilt Table test, though I might just make a TikTok account for just to rant about that akdhfa it's both not funny and FUNNY), but what it all boils down to is this: I have a very, very severe case POTS all of a sudden and my doctor is still trying to figure out what the hell caused it. Currently I'm trying for disability benefits because I legitimately cannot work - my sleep schedule is fucked, my energy levels are all over the place, I can't stand for long at all without fainting and I can't sit for varying length of time without the same. I hate to even do this, but I'm a broke bitch who has medical bills for tests and operations (god I have one in just a few days and I am NOT looking forward to it) that I can't pay for because I don't have insurance, so: Here's my kofi page if you'd like to buy me a coffee or help me not stress about the multiple doctors visits I have every month!

I do have, like, actual things I want to talk about other than "Oh this is what I've been up to - BEING SICK" - like the cute EMic fics I have in the works, the Cheeky Brat fic I've been working on and haven't been talking about on here because it's 🤭 e x p l i c i t (teehee) and even my DnD shit that is mostly entirely self indulgent but I don't care I'm going to shove it in your faces anyway.

Anyways, that's what I've been up to. I've posted about a good portion of this on Twitter, so I know some of you guys know about this, but I wanted to give Tumblr a heads up that I am bed ridden and Doing My Best.😫

[sometimesanalice]

Picture Perfect

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Length: 1K

Warnings: angst and a big scoop of feels

(A what-if drabble, set in the ‘Like I Can’ universe. Can be read on its own.)

“Is Bradley my dad?”

It’s the question that's fueled your 3AM thoughts ever since you had your daughter. It’s one you’d hoped you wouldn’t have to answer until she was older, preferably when she could at least pronounce her r's.

It was inevitable, you knew. Something to be noticed at some parent teacher conference or family fun day in the future. That while most kids had a set of parents, your little family- while perfect on its own- was one short of the traditional white picket fence dream.

You just never would have expected it to come so soon.

Your chest twinges as your now-four-year-old looks up at you with her big, open-hearted doe eyes, the ones that didn’t match your own, with vanilla ice cream smeared across her sweet face.

She was a near perfect image to the man seated next to her with his own vanilla ice cream clinging to the coarse hairs of his mustache and smudged on the left corner of his mouth, but whose wide brown eyes were nearly bulging out of his head looking at you like a deer in headlights.

Bradley was the boy who’d known you when you were in pigtails. The teen who had taught you to drive before you’d had your permit. The man you’d cried to when you’d seen the two lines on a positive pregnancy test weeks after a break up with someone who never deserved access to your body, let alone entrance to your heart.

That man- the one you’d left behind without a second glance- had been all too happy to give up any claim to the little someone growing inside of you. The type who’d elected to send checks instead of birthday cards.

Your parents had wanted you to move home to be closer to them, when you’d told them the news and of your decision, but you didn’t think you could bear the whispers or the looks. Even though you’d love growing up there, returning back on your own hadn’t felt right for you.

Bradley was the one who’d convinced you to move to San Diego.

He was the one who had held your hair as you vomited morning, noon, and night during those early months. The one who had taken you out for late night milkshakes with a knowing smile when the baby craved one. The one who had held your hand and wiped your tears. The one who had stayed up late and woke up early and brought you tea and toast as you figured out how to take care of the tiny person who was an unexpected, but entirely perfect, extension of your imperfect self.

It wasn't a daydream you let yourself indulge in. To imagine what it would be like if you and Bradley were you and Bradley. Not separated by three little letters but joined by them instead.

Your tender heart was already too delicate.

He was the devastatingly handsome man who people assumed was her father- your husband, your partner- on your days out together at the beach, at the zoo, at the grocery store, and at the hanger on base when the two of you waited to welcome him home from deployments with handmade signs covered in doodles and dripping in glitter glue.

Your almost family.

He was yours for now, until he had one of his own.

You watch as the startled look on his face flickers and settles into something softer.

“No, sweet girl. Not quite, but-” Bradley starts, his eyes tender as he looks at her.

He’s already done so much for you, but this was something you had to handle on your own. You might crack, but you wouldn’t shatter.

You’re quick jump in, cutting him off, ignoring the twist of your heart in your chest, “No, peanut. He’s just your Uncle Rooster.”

The term didn’t feel big enough for who he was and what he meant to you. But it would have to do.

“Ok,” you daughter chirps with such simple acceptance. The kind that only a child so young can say with such easy unbothered surety, still soft and sheltered from the world.

You release the breath you were holding as her half-melted ice cream cone claims her attention once again. And then give Bradley a small smile, it's too hard to look at him when the sun bounces off of his wavy strands like that, before you turn your focus back on your own scoop of chocolate cherry chip.

There was no doubt in your mind, the question would come up again later. But for now your answer was enough.

Someday there might be another someone who would love you both in equal measure, but you weren’t in a rush to find them. You had all you needed.

You savor the feeling of your sweet ice cream as it melts on your tongue, listening to the waves as they meet the shore. Content in the glow of the setting sun and warmth of being surrounded by your two favorite people.

Your daughter and your Bradley.

Her Uncle Rooster.

Bradley didn’t know what to say when the miniature mirror of you, the one with the same nose that scrunched the same way when she laughed, asked if he was her father.

It was something that came up from time to time when he was lucky enough to tag along with your dynamic duo. Usually from well-meaning grandmas with warm smiles complimenting his lovely family. He’d never felt the need to correct them about the labels because the two of you were his family.

He knew your routines, he knew your likes and dislikes better than his own. He was the one who had been there to see her first smile, to cheer for her when she took her first steps. It was his name and phone number that were listed in the emergency contacts for you and for her.

Being with the two of you was so much more than he’d ever imagined it would be when he’d cradled her in his arms and whispered his promise to alway look after you both the day she was born, as you’d slept soundly next to him in the uncomfortable hospital bed exhausted from your efforts.

But looking at you now with the golden sunset illuminating your face and the little girl next to you kicking her legs as she happily licked her ice cream cone, he liked the promise future he saw in front of him. He loved the potential of what could be.

This could be more, this could be permanent, this could be forever.

It would be more than just a picture perfect moment. It could be such a picture perfect life.

He had been there for it all, he wanted to see it through to the end.

He didn’t want to miss a moment.

He didn’t want to miss his moment.

Bradley hadn’t been entirely sure how he was going to answer when he started speaking, but he knew what he wanted.

With the two of you, he could have it all.

And he’ll never forget the way air had left his lungs and his stomach dropped when you called him Uncle Rooster.

He already knows the what-ifs and if-onlys will be the newest companions to the list of things that keep him up at night.

The sound of the crashing waves was drown out by the ringing in his ears, as his double scoop of vanilla ice cream melted around his fingers steadily dripping onto the cement sidewalk beneath his feet.

The sunlight hitting the two of you is no less golden than it was before as he scooped up your quickly fading daughter from the bench overlooking the beach that the three of you had been sharing, her little arms reaching up for him. The thrill of her fourth birthday and the sugar crash catching up with her after such a big day.

That ache in his hollow chest is soothed by the way she burrows her little face into his neck, her sticky fingers curling into the front of his shirt.

He still could be a dad. He still could be a husband.

Just maybe not hers. Just maybe not yours.

This moment with your daughter snuggled against him and you tucked under his free arm on the way back to the Bronco, was still picture perfect, but only if he didn’t look too close.

The two of you would always be his family, in one way or another, and he hopes he will always belong to yours.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send @gretagerwigsmuse your therapy bill, this is her fault.

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[hardly-an-escape]

Fluffbruary Day 26

gonna try to do a little daily drabble just to get the creative juices going while I work on longer WIPs. no guarantees that it'll be every day.

Dream/Hob • rated M • fluff | woolly | care package

Hob smiles when he unzips his suitcase and sees the surprise Dream has left for him. He must have snuck it in while Hob was in the loo, just before the Uber had arrived, because it definitely hadn’t been there when he’d packed last night.

It’s nothing fancy. Just a plain little bag, labeled with his name in Dream’s distinctive spiky handwriting, the black marker feathering a bit where it’s soaked into the cheap brown paper. Dream’s embellished it with doodles of birds and trees, so it looks like Hob’s name is growing out of a tiny black-and-white forest.

Inside is a packet of Hob’s favorite biscuits, and one of sour gummy worms. A miniature instant photo of the two of them together, which Hob recognizes from Matthew’s last birthday party. A pressed flower from their garden, carefully taped to a square of card stock with washi tape. And best of all, a new fountain pen – one of the nice ones Hob’s been eyeing for a while but hasn’t found an excuse to buy.

He flips over the card with the dried flower. On the other side is a short handwritten message: I love you. Work hard. Think of me.

Hob’s insides turn to goo. He hadn’t thought it was possible to fall even more in love with his husband than he already is, and yet he’s standing here in a boring hotel room feeling as though he’s just drunk a bottle of champagne.

I love you. Work hard. Think of me.

As if he could do anything but.

He fishes his phone from his jacket pocket. Dream answers on the first ring.

“Did you find your present?” he asks without preamble.

“Yes. I love you so much. My darling, you would not even believe how much I love you. You are, bar none, the best thing that’s ever happened to me –”

“Did you find all of your present?” Dream presses.

“Yes?” Hob says uncertainly. “It was all in the little bag, right? The doodles are so cute, by the way.”

“Look farther. Under your clothes.”

Hob obediently digs deeper in his suitcase. At first he doesn’t see it, but then his fingers encounter something unfamiliar. It’s small, but firm, and heavy for its size. For a second he’s puzzled – then he realizes what it is and bursts into laughter.

“You maniac, did you pack me a butt plug?”

“I thought you might get lonely.” He can hear the smile in Dream’s voice.

“I’m only going to be gone for three nights!”

“Yes. Three long, lonely nights. In the wasteland of Bangor. Without your husband to comfort and please you after your long days of toil.”

“It’s just an academic conference, my love, not manual labor.”

“I’ve seen how you medievalists get. All those heavy books. You might strain yourself if you don’t find a way to relax.”

Hob laughs again, and rejoices in Dream’s laugh in return. After all these years, it still sends a shiver down his back.

“I really do love you,” he says.

“And I you,” Dream answers softly. “But I must go. Matthew is almost here. He promised to come distract me from my woeful solitude. I believe he is bringing Die Hard.”

“Have fun. Tell him I said hi. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Till then, my love.”

“Bye, darling.”

prompt list!

[metalomagnetic]

I was re-reading Dissonance and I wanted to ask if Abraxas ever kept the poison chandelier? Like is it a treasured family heirloom? Or does Lucius just inherit it when his dad dies with no clue why they have this dangerous, tacky piece of decor he can't get rid of because Lord Voldemort vaguely complimented(?) it one time?

It's hilarious that you sent me this ask, while I am still laughing myself to tears (I just read your comment 1 minute ago).

-

The 'homoerotic chandelier' (I am STILL laughing, thank you, truly) is, of course, gaudy; just horrid, really, there's a reason no one was buying it, even with Tom's outstanding sale talents.

Being an impulse purchase (a horny purchase), Abraxas didn't think it through- how on earth will he explain this monstrosity to his father?

He hides it in the dungeons, knowing his father doesn't go there (draft and all).

After Tom disappears, Abraxas might, or might not, visit the dungeons to have a look at it from time to time. He sent hundreds of letters to Tom, but they all returned unopened, so he's convinced his enemy-lover is dead. His cold, tiny heart, is broken.

Once his dad finally dies, Abraxas moves the chandelier to Gringotts, wrapped in a secure box, in the hopes he won't have to think about it (Tom) anymore, if it isn't in his house. At first, he wanted to destroy it, but he couldn't make himself. (It's lucky he didn't try, because that was one CURSED chandelier that would have reacted poorly to violence).

A decade or so later, Lord Voldemort shows up.

Abraxas is furious (happy)! How dare that mudblood be even more powerful than when he left? (how dare Tom just show up, as if Abraxas didn't mourn for him, thought him dead, and grew stupidly attached to an ugly chandelier as a stand in for Tom?)

Everyone is playing this silly game, pretending not to recognise this is Tom Riddle. Abraxas cannot wait to actually meet him face to face and spit 'Riddle' at him; he is a Malfoy, Riddle doesn't scare him! Alas, before he can meet him, he hears old classmates are dropping dead all over the place (the only thing they had in common was that they knew the name Riddle) and he reconsiders. It's not that he's afraid (he's terrified), but he's just cautious. Yes, cautious. He determines is better to avoid Riddle (even if his broken, even tinier and colder heart longs to see him again).

But then his stupid son comes back with a horrid brand on his arm (he remembers Riddle doodling it in his schoolboy silly journal) and Abraxas is horrified. Furthermore, Rodolphus keeps saying Voldemort is unnaturally close to Lucius, that they have many one on one meetings, and Abraxas has had ENOUGH. So he goes to face Riddle and tell him to stay away from his son (he has no idea that once, long ago, his own father went to tell Tom to stay away from Abraxas. Apparently it's a Malfoy tradition, now.)

Anyway, things don't go as planned, Abraxas freezes when he sees what Riddle had done to his previously perfect face. He freezes when he feels the *power* emanating from him. He ends up pretending he doesn't recognise him.

It's a long and complicated story (really, it is) but eventually Abraxas invites Voldemort to the Manor ( to discuss Lucius, of course, no other reason. Not like Abraxas had decade long fantasies of bringing Riddle to his Manor and fucking him in the master bedroom or anything like that). On a whim, he has the chandelier brought back from Gringotts and hangs it in the dining room.

Riddle's new waxy, harsh face does something funny, shows some emotion for once, when he sees it. Abraxas is suddenly hot all over, but they attempt to talk normally until Lucius comes home, bows to Riddle ( the indignity! Lucius should only bow to Abraxas) and then, with a sneer, asks if Abraxas has lost his mind, what is that ugly chandelier doing in their lovely home?

The chandelier apparently doesn't take the insult in stride, and , with a thunder like noise, starts raining poison down on Lucius.

It's fine, in the end. Riddle was always good with spells of all kind, the arrogant mudblood, so he fixes Lucius up, and then sends him to get some rest.

The next morning, when Lucius stumbles out of his room, with a headache from the remaining after effects of the poison, he witnesses his lord getting out of his father's room.

He blinks. Once, twice. He rubs his eyes, frozen.

"You're hallucinating," Lord Voldemort tells him. "From the poison. Go back to bed."

Lucius decides that yes, he must be hallucinating (he dearly hopes so, because why else would he see the dark lord, robe not entirely buttoned up, leaving his father's room at dawn?), and he retreats to the safety of his room.

Another decade later, when his father dies, Lucius decides to leave the chandelier in place ( in his father's room, where it was moved after it assaulted Lucius). He thinks it's wiser not to mess with the thing. Besides, it seemed to matter quite a lot to his old man; Lucius swears his father loved that ugly monstrosity more than he ever loved Lucius.

--

Thank you so much for your comment, and you're at fault for this lengthy, cracky answer! I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

[shiemori-writes]

Hey there Quinn! Since the request are open, I would like a Jack, Leona, Sebek and Floyd x reader (separately), where the boys find the reader’s sketchbook, and when they open the book, they see a bunch of doodles of them and in the end of the sketchbook, there is drawing of the boys and the reader, holding hand or something. Headcanons. Fell free to ignore. Thank you!

(This request might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages.)

—doodles of us ♡︎

the boys find your sketchbook sketches of them! <3

characters: jack, floyd, leona and sebek! ♡︎

includes: sfw, really fluffy, gender neutral reader as always, and mutual pining! went a little bit overboard with leona whoops

notes: hello to you to anon!! ahh this was such a cute prompt!! heehee thank u anon <3 ALSO WOOO I HAVENT WROTE IN SO LONG THIS IS SUCH A TREAT!

♡︎ JACK HOWL♡︎

"—Wait prefect!! you forgot your.!..sketchbook...?"

you guys had just finished your little study (date) session in his room and was done for the day, you had just gone back to Ramshackle when he noticed that you had forgotten what seems to be your sketchbook, wide open.

Initially, he was in awe at your artistic ability, even by the doodles that were less polished, he thought they were adorable (he'd never tell you that though, hehe)

But then he saw doodles of what seems to be..him and you...ok ok cool.. him and you- wait— him and you?!

The doodles ranged from just doodles of his name surrounded by hearts, to him in chibi form, to tiny-him and tiny-you holding hands, god you were too adorable

He really couldnt stop his tail from wagging, nor the smile that was slowly spreading on his face, you were really cute y'know that?

At the bottom of the page he saw a different doodle, it was more of writing but from what he could tell, it was ai-ai gasa, which he could vividly remember you swooning to him, about how oh so romantic it would be with your crush,

And surely there the two of your names was, written under the little umbrella you had drawn, a little love-charm you like to call it, and while you had said you didnt believe it, you mainly just wanted to do it for wishful thinking.

He always wondered if he was the one you were talking about but now..

He felt his heart skip a beat and then another one, and another one..

He was thankful he was in his room right now, because he would absolutely die if someone saw him like this, red faced tail wagging at sonic-speed with an absolute love sick expression

He tried to calm his racing heartbeat with ease, (he is a runner after all) and when he finally calmed down he felt content, he was gonna return the sketchbook to you that's for sure, and maybe something more

He confessed not too long after <33

♡︎ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR♡︎

He had just woken up from a long-cat-nap when his eyes wandered to your slumbering figure, clinging onto his arm, a calm look on your face

unconsciously smiling at the sight 'cute' he thought. He was glad he convinced you to rest, that damn bird was dumping his work onto you again, it was a pain, you need more rest, really.

He sat up, uncharastically-careful to not wake you from your state of slumber, stretching his muscles and letting out a yawn when he noticed the sketchbook beside him, open and what seems to be unfinished,

Curiously he took a little peak, wouldn't hurt right?

He flipped through the pages, feeling a smile curl on his lips when he saw how passionate you were for art, he was glad you had something you loved, but also hated how soft he was feeling rn, seriously herbivore what spell did you cast on him?

Hes just a softie in denial mwuehehe

Anyways, he stopped skimming through the pages when he noticed what seems to be..Him? Oh, ohoho he was gonna tease you so much for this herbivore. (bastard)

While the thought of you being flustered entertained him, he really did appreciate the way you saw him, and..oh? Was this a doodle of you and him? You really are a sap arent' cha herbivore? (lovingly)

He chuckled, finding enjoyment at the way you'd doodle you and him holding hands, or the way you drew his names surrounded by multiple hearts

'cute' he found himself repeating in his head

Looking at the bottom of the pages, he noticed the way you'd consistently draw an umbrella along with your names on it through every page, ai-ai gasa as you call it. He found himself remembering your ramble about how cute it was, thinking he wasnt listening as much, but he was, he always found himself listening to your voice, as sappy as that was (really herbivore your sappyness is getting to him ugh)

Seeing his name and yours doodled under the umbrella sure was somethin', he remembered you joking about how you'd try it with him as it was commonly reffered to as a "love-spell-charm" of some sort in your world

frankly he thinks it was dumb, why do that when you already have his heart hmmm herbivore? And do' ya really think a love spell would work on him?

^ but you didn't know that, maybe that was partially his fault for not being too forward but he blames you too for being dense (wow rlly leo? smh../j)

Closing the sketchbook, he found himself grinning from ear to ear, tail flicking from side to side in delight as he peered back at you, still blissfully unaware of his discovery, heh, he'll tease ya for sure, but for now, he's gonna cherish this peaceful moment with you, after all, time spent with you is his favorite time of all (apart from sleeping)

♡︎FLOYD LEECH♡︎

"Ko~e~be~ CHAN!!!"

He sang through the empty hallway, pouting when he didn't see you

He couldnt find you anywhere!!!! It was so annoying!!! it was terribly boring too!! which!! he!! Hates!! Where's his koebe chan >:(

Angry eel later turns to sad pouty eel :(

(poor azul had to deal with his outburts)

Huffing in annoyance, he tried to work at his shift at the monstro lounge, to everyone's surprise, floyd leech????? Working??? The world must be ending!

But no, he just was hoping maybe, maybe his little shrimpy visits him, I mean, you did visit yesterday, so he now automatically assumes you're gonna do it everyday! And if not, well then he's just gonna squeeze someone, maybe that will make him feel better. Hmmph.

YOU DO VISIT YAYAYAYAYAY!!! (Jade and azul practically begged you at this point bc he was being so aggressive to the customers)

BUT THAT DOESNT MATTER!! WHAT MATTERS IS HIS KOEBE CHANS HERE!! :D

Upong seeing you his frown immediately turned into a bright grin, running towards you to give you the biggggesst squeeze!! ever!! because his koebe chans here! <3

He squeezed you tightly, (but not too tight! He knows his koebe-chan is fragile) and gave you the biggest kiss, a loud "mwah!" Was heard as he kissed your cheeks, giggling at how flustered you seem! koebe chans so cute!! hehehe!!

Ok maybe bringing you in was a bad idea cuz now floyd refuses to work...(cue azul ripping his hair out in the bg)

He grinned at Azul, waving goodbye as he dragged you out of monstro lounge with jade sighing and Azul screaming at him to COME BACK.

Asking where he was taking you, he just shrugged, "somewhere fun!!!" he replied, ah of course, as vauge as ever, you sighed, but couldnt help the fond look on your face when he looked so excited

(you just hoped he wasnt taking you for another swimming lesson hhh)

Annndd we've arrived!! To...Ramshackle??? Huh, you expected something more from Floyd, noticing your confusion, he simply smiled, letting himself in with your hand in his

"I saw shrimpy drawin' lotsa stuff!! I wanna see!!" He gestured to your sketchbook, like a child excitedly pointing his gift out for christmas

You were skeptical at first, but after he promised not to ruin anything, you gave him the sketchbook, with him asking questions about your drawings, whether it be a doodle or a finished piece.

He went silent

Were those,..doodles,,, of him??? :O

AWWWW SHRIMPY YOU REALLY ARE ADORABLE!!

He started giggling like a little schoolgirl with a crush, finding more and more doodles of you and him holding hands or just being rlly cute!

Then he saw the umbrella thingy doodle, it was your name next to his!! He was floored! secretly glad his shrimpy loved him just as much as he loved shrimpy<3

Curious to what he was giggling at, you redirected your focus onto your sketchbook and was absolutely mortified at what he found, trying to desperately take it from his hands, dang it how did you forget you drew those?!

he however didnt give you the sketchbook, instead setting it ontop of the highest shelf (bastard p2)

He couldnt stop himself from giving you the biggest hug ever (part 2) Only this time, you can tell it was filled with more love and adoration, with him peppering your face with kisses

"hehehe! Dont be shy shrimpy! its really cute!! This means you love me right?? I love you too!!" He swooned, his face being coated with a lovely-pink color, he smile uncharastically bright and genuine. It wasn't the twisted smile he'd display when he was squeezing someone, or when he got amusement to tormenting goldfishie, (poor riddle lmao) but a genuine, awestruck smile.

Bewildered, you can only hide your face at the crook of his neck, mumbling complaints while he laughs, kissing the top of your head when you eventually said 'I love you too'

♡︎SEBEK ZIGVOLT♡︎

Who would have thought, Sebek, the retainer of the soon to be crowned prince, befriend a magicless human like you?

Well..As much as he hates to admit it, there really was more to you then he gave you credit for, you'd always survive no matter what anyone throws at you, all without being unkind, and pushing through everything, and most of all, you liked him for him, and listened to him no matter what was on his mind, and that, he thanks you for, albeit clumsily (and very loudly)

You made it a routine to hang out everyday despite your busy schedules, often in the library (he got kicked out though, so you didnt stick for long) or in the comfort of his room, after all, diasomnia provides a more...comfortable space, no offense (name).

Anyways, during your normal sessions, you happily chatted away with Sebek, as he recounted tales from his childhood and the Valley of Thorns, a content smile on his face.

You hummed, sketching away while looking at the time, gasping when you noticed how late its gotten (and how hungry grim must be)

Noticing your sudden distress, he questioned you immediately, showing concern in a..very sebek way!

"Human!! What has gotten you so alert! Did I say something to alarm you?" He yelled, frowning at you.

You waved your hands, chuckling nervously, "Ah- no Seb, its really late- I'm afraid I need to get back to grim" you replied sadly, as he let out a quiet "oh" pouting at his unfinished tale

"Well-alright then!! I shall continue this story tomorrow human!! Be- be careful alright!! It is unsafe!!" He fussed over you, blush forming on his cheeks (which he denied he had) "Actually- I'll just escort you so I can-" "Ah its fine Seb!! I can handle it!" you cut him off, knowing he still has duties.

He huffed, "fine. B-but text me when you get there so I can ensure your safety!" He replied, to which you nodded. "Got it! bye sebek! i'll see you tomorrow?" "Of course."

And with that you shut the door behind you, leaving Sebek to clean up his room, when-

"HUMAN!!! HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS TO LEAVE YOUR!!!....sketchbook..??"

He furrowed his eyebrows, really out of all the things you forgot it was the thing you were always carrying around? Humans really are forgetful, tsk tsk, Not to worry human, he!! Your greatest friend and fae shall make sure your!!..hmm? Is that him??

Now he didnt mean to peak but..It was wide open! and- were those doodles of..H-him and you?!?!

Congrats for once hes speechless! Flipping through the pages whem curiousity got the better of him, staring in awe at how simple it was but..admittingly cute. Hmph. Humans!! Theyre just so!!..augh.

He found himself blushing more and more as he found more and more doodles, whether it was his name with heart scribbles, or him and you holding hands..It affected him more than he'd like.

The last straw was when he saw your scribble of an umbrella.. He knew this trope all too well, as embarrassing it was to admit, he's seen it before in the novels he'd read.

His heartbeat was going crazy

Did you really wish to court him?! Human how come you've never told him!!!

Huffing out in fondness he carefully examined the paper, feeling a wobly smile display on his lips. He was going to answer this strange courting method of yours human!! Just you wait!!

end notes! "ai-ai gasa" translates to "love-love umbrella" which symbolizes sharing an umbrella with your soon to be lover/crush since sharing umbrellas are considered to be very romantic! it's also a love charm/spell of some sorts, though its not believed to work, its mostly done out of wishful thinking, and bc cmon its so cute! i decided to add that since technically it is a doodle! and ive seen tropes like this and its adorable imo, anyways thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

[bimbombimbo]

thistook like way too long it was supposed to be a doodle

anyways uhhh kid sniper and his trapinch!!! + grown up.. and flygon.. i have been rotating tf2 pokemon in my brain !!

You guys wanna listen to me ramble about tf2 Pokemon so baaad.. go on.. click on the read more thing...

OKAY SO i need to get this out of my system

It's probably obvious that Mick had been a difficult kid (of course, given that he was an outcast probably: the slim, small, weird kid with no body hair) and very much without friends. He'd have been the object of, mockery and nasty jokes and things like that; school sucks buddy!

Applying that into a Pokemon world: Mick would have definitely wanted a huge, strong pokemon. Probably to be able to properly defend himself, one like Kangaskhan, or a Zangoose or a Seviper (or even better, a Charizard just like he'd seen on TV!). Of course, having a strong pokemon would require years of training (and bonding too!), something that required a level of patience little Mick hadn't built yet. So, knowing his way into the woods due to always hanging around there by himself (comfort? escape? who knows), he goes deeper and deeper. Yeah, he tries to catch creatures he deems "strong", and horribly fails, again and again.

During one of these awful attempts, he returns home, frustrated and tired. However, the constant trips to this unknown part of the outback (and, of course, making a lot of noise) had attracted a teeny tiny creature: a Trapinch! The weak link of his group, low level, weak thing (but fierce and with a high defense), its presence isn't recognized until Ms. Mundy finds a lot of her crops missing and others bitten.

Of course, Mick finds the plague and brings it back to the outdoors, away from home. But it refused!Going back to the little boy's house each time it is taken away. Catching it on a small trap, Mick is willing to exterminate it, but something talks to him. Maybe he saw himself in the eyes of that tiny critter (who was struggling in a cage that wasn't made for it), or maybe he learned some empathy from his mother, or maybe he just wanted to contradict his dad. So, he keeps it in the end.

Clearly, the kid doesn't expect much from this, little creature that fits in his backpack (bad idea: he shouldn't have brought it with him to school, now he's also the weird pokemon kid). But still, he feeds it, he brings it with him everywhere (can't trust his dad enough), and slowly gets used to its presence.

The Trapinch soon tags along Mick into his hunting trips. The kid trains his precision with the bow and, in a couple of years later, his dad's rifle. Understands his companion's hunting method too, and slowly begins to train and teach new moves to it. A bond is forming! Through the years, Mick starts seeing the Trapinch as a pet (not that his family didn't had pets, but this one? it was his. the connection was visible between them)

The bullying problem doesn't stop though. Mick learns to avoid it, and avoid telling his parents about it (given that he already defends himself, and he doesn't want to make a fuss out of it). He drops school around his last years, dedicating himself to only hunting for some time, taking about a sixteen/seventeen year-old guy probably.

And wahoo! Word gets around about the quiet guy that headshots all the bunnies and deers and just like that he gets his first actually sniper job. (Not really going into that, let's focus on the pokemon aspect instead)

Trapinch probably evolves around this time. Not an extremely incredible event (some evolutions are televised) but Sniper might have not expected a Big Dragon-Fly. Vibrava is such a cool pokemon tho, it gets a while for Sniper to get used to the new name.

- Fun idea a friend of mine commented: "Vibrava can get him his jars to pee. It can also work as a bomb helicopter or smth: it grabs the jarate, flies above the enemy and drops it in their head"

However I do think they wouldn't have gone in much sniping jobs together, given a feral Vibrava's nature of, uh, the ultrasonic waves thing. It probably goes away a lot, into the outback all by itself. That's fine, but Sniper can't stop thinking his pokemon is going to leave and not come back some day.

Around this time, Sniper gets his contract at RED, travelling to Americs (probably around, 23 years old?) Forgive me for I don't know much about dates and ages! I headcannon Sniper to be in his mid 30's during the comic (Even though I'm pretty sure he's canonically 26, I'm sorry, I can't imagine him being younger than 30)

Sniper brings Vibrava with him into his (recently obtained) van, close to RED headquarters. For obvious reasons, it is not taken into the matches, but it's left out of its pokeball to explore around. At first, it doesn't return to sleep one night. Then it happens more often.

And it finally happens. Vibrava doesn't come back for a day, two days, a week. Of course, Sniper feels devastated, thinking it's gone for good (but leaving his window open everyday, just in case...)

He wakes up one day (or is it night? probably too early to notice), having heard a strong wind move his van. Groggy, goes outside to check if a storm of some kind is approaching, and he'd greeted by an enormous, dragon-bug thing that grabs him by the arms and lifts him up in the sky.

Flygon is way stronger than Vibrava. Bigger, of course, and more active. But still playfully bites at his hands, and still lays on its back demanding belly rubs like a dog (just like it used to do when it was a Trapinch). They go on camping trips together a lot. Sniper could technically go on its back, but he doesn't want to leave the van alone.

Sniper probably looks back to when he was a kid and is glad to not have uh, eliminated the pokemon when he had a chance.

FUCK THAT'S A LOT? i ain't reading allat 😂 if you're here thanks for reading i love you

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Entertainment

The Discussion Conference drones on, only made bearable by the fine food and endless amount of drinks. Sect Leader Wei finishes his 10th or so cup of wine and sighs. He could think of at least fifteen less boring things to do than listen to sect leaders Ouyang and Yao complain about everything. He'd very much rather sit through one of Teacher Lan's lectures, and that's saying something.

He leans his chin in his palm and looks around. Everyone seems just as bored and disinterested as he is - even the Lan delegation. Sect Leader Lan dutifully pretends to listen while Hanguang-Jun presumably takes notes. Wei Wuxian likes to think he's actually doodling to pass the time.

An idea presents itself in Wei Wuxian's brain and he can't help a mischevious little smile. If the organisers decided to place the Yiling Wei delegation across the Lans, might as well take advantage of it.

With a nearly imperceptible gesture, Wei Wuxian flicks a tiny burst of spiritual energy towards Lan Wangji's forehead, like a soft kiss landing right in the center of his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji's head inevitably snaps up and towards Wei Wuxian, a warning look in his eyes. Wei Wuxian winks and flicks his finger again. Lan Wangji's eyes widen momentarily as he feels that warm sensation, this time on the tip of his nose.

Wei Wuxian laughs quietly. He can almost hear Lan Wangji's embarrased little "Wei Ying!". Teasing him will never grow old.

A servant finally brings Wei Wuxian the wine he requested, but before he can drink it, he feels a warm, fleeting pressure on his lips.

Lan Wangji subtly raises his eyebrow at the shocked expression. Dish it out but can't take it?

Wei Wuxian finds himself in a bit of a stupor, and it seems like the wine he's been drinking the past few hours has caught up to him - because he's getting hot.

What a coincidence.

Lan Wangji's eyes are glued to him as he runs a hand through his hair and loosens the collars of his ornate robes. The tips of his collarbones show, as does a teasing beginning of cleavage.

He licks his lips subtly and Lan Wangji looks at him so darkly it's as if his pupils have turned to molten gold.

Expectedly, Wei Wuxian feels a burst of more forceful spiritual energy land right on top of that little bit of cleavage.

He flicks his finger in return again and a little gasp leaves Lan Wangji's lips. His eyes narrow in what could only be described as a horny glare.

Wei Wuxian gives him a sultry look as he finishes his cup of wine and licks the side of it to catch a stray drop.

The brush in Lan Wangji's grip snaps in two.

"Wangji." Lan Xichen's voice cuts through, gentle, though the trained ear can sense embarrassment. "I understand these talks are... quite boring. But I kindly request you and Sect Leader Wei not be providing everybody present such... entertainment to ease the burden."

The panicked look Lan Wangji sends his brother has him sigh. "You are not nearly as subtle as you might hope to be."

[gracelesslady23]

The Gift

For as long as he remembers, whenever he is given a moment alone, James will sketch and scribble, quill flying over scraps of parchment or the margins of books. Anything to get the ideas out of his head onto paper, whether they are small or big, useful or merely amusing, game changing or tiny tweaks to existing items.

He never thought much of this ‘gift’ as his parents called it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had any clue how to bring his myriad ideas to fruition. And as he grew, he learns that his gift isn’t even particularly impressive, in fact mostly results in him being marked out as weird or silly by the neighbourhood children. Not like his humour or bravery or skill on broomstick, which never fails to make a good impression on his peers.

So, without much fanfare, James starts to hide away his drawings and notes, although the ideas never do stop coming even once he starts Hogwarts.

Overtime James becomes lax, he neglects to guard his scribbles as closely. Until one day in the middle of second year, he lends Sirius a book over the winter holidays forgetting to erase his scribbles in the margins before he does so.

James tries not to panic when he realises his mistake. Its too late to do anything about it, James is already at his parents’ house and Sirius already in London with his family. But he can’t help but chew his fingernails to the messy stumps with worry about it, regardless.

When Sirius enters their usual compartment for the train ride back to Hogwarts, James nervousness intensifies. Will he even still want to be friends with James after this. All James’s previous friends had found the behaviour odd and childish. The idea of Sirius feeling the same way hurts.

But Sirius greets him, Peter and Remus as usual and their conversation continues as it would on any other day. James begins to relax.

It is not until later that night, just before they turn in, Sirius takes the borrowed book out of his trunk to hand back to James. The nervous churning of James’ stomach returns.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sirius says, tone unusually cautious, before his releases the book back into James’ hands.

He thinks perhaps Sirius had vanished his doodles and scribbles himself therefore saving James the embarrassment of having Sirius read them. It would make Sirius a better friend then the neighbourhood children James grew up with, which obviously James already knows, but… James doesn’t feel as happy about the prospect of Sirius simply ignoring James’ scribbles as he thought he should.

In the safety of his four poster bed, James opens it, heart thundering in his chest.

Sirius hadn’t erased anything.

But he had added to it.

Lines and lines of elegant script: complex spells in latin, mysterious potions and rare magical herbs, exclamation points and question marks, jokes and asides.  

James loses hours to the pursuit of Sirius’s additions. Laughing at Sirius’s remarks and gasping at his brilliance. It is as if a fire has been lit beneath his own mind, his thoughts running a mile a minute building and building off Sirius’ work.

When James emerges from his bed the next morning, Sirius is waiting for him. After his long night, James is up later than usual and Sirius is already dressed for the day, his hair impeccable, his uniform artfully dishevelled.

“So?” Sirius asks. He stands stiffly at the end of his own bed as if unsure of his welcome in James’s space.

Words fail him, but his muscle memory doesn’t. James strides forward capturing Sirius in one of their not uncommon embraces, only this time James holds him tighter and more warmly than ever.

“You are brilliant.”

Sirius scoffs into his hair.

“I’m not the one who came up with it all. If anyone is brilliant here, it’s you.”

James squeezes him even more tightly to his chest, burying his head into Sirius’ neck. His eyes growing misty behind his glasses.

James might have once thought his gift was useless, but with Sirius’s practicality layered in elegant script over his messy scrawl, James can’t help but think, his parents may be more right than they are wrong when they called it a gift.

[astroswrites]

The dispaired ilusion.

Part 3:

Sinopsis: Astralas is reading the annotations of the book and some of the short stories.

A knight entered the dragon's den, sword ready to slay it while it is sleeping.

Aw man, that's just plain rude.

Meany knit, it dont say that dragn was bad. I could be jut a frin

Yea! Meany knight!

Rude

The great warrior stepped into the den, quiet footsteps, armour well oiled to make less sound.

I dont tink that is how armur works

Slowly the knight walked closer to the nest of gold where the dragon was sleeping in.

Walking carefully, avoiding making noise, and pushed the sword into the dragon's skull, killing it.

NOOOOOOOOOOO :<

Vei laughed a bit at reading the annotations, it was so silly, vei knew that vei were always a bit of a cry baby, only a bit. Astralas always hated when others got hurt unnecessarily.

The annotations on the previous pages vei had read were similar to this, silly, cute and funny.

The highlights were underlined words that were always funny to kids like butt, ass, and the replacing the word peach with but fruit.

The tiny doodles of cats in stories about cats or felines.

With how big the book was vei knew it took vein years to finish it... maybe there would be something important in the back.....

'No.... I should read the whole book..... it feels as if it would be cheating otherwise....' Astralas thought and sighed.

The nex page had a few more annotations.

Hey, how old are you? I'm curious.

Im 6. Yu?

Hey, you are good at writing for your age.

I'm 9.

9? Yu write like a adul and use big words, Im no good at it

I get told that a lot, I just really like reading, books are easy to carry.

Nooooo you are good, and have been improving. Don't be a meany to you. :<

Astralas chuckled, the books owner was always like this, not liking when vei said something mean about veirself. And veir acted in kind in return.

The next page had a poem. And a childish argument next to it.

This poem is dumb, it makes no sense. What does the peach (butfruit) mean

Maybe they just like the peach butfruit.

Thats a good idea,but why did you change it from peach (butfruit) to butfruit

Because funy, and you changed mine!

>:<

The next few pages were of poems with similar things. The poems that were a bit more spicy had variants of:

What dos it mean?

Dad says it is an adult thing.

Or

Its an adult thing, It is gross.

It was clear when he had "the talk", Astralas knew that vei had the same reaction.

The next page had.

Hey, it is my birthday soon, and even if I want to invite you dad says it will be difficult for you to get here, so I'm gifting you something.

:< well thaks for the bracet.... but that no how it work, I give you a gift not the other way.

Nononononono, the birthday goer gives the gifts, not the other way. I cannot accept the stuffed animal....

then... if that how yu do, then my gift is for my birthday, it was before book.

Thanks you xilu, but when we meet face to face I will squeeze your cheeks. Like a grandma!

No! Not like q granma!

Muajajajjajajjaajajajajajajajajjajª

Astralas suppressed the urge to laugh loudly, 'right, this is where the bracelet might be from, hehhehehe, I wonder if we ever met...... I hope so... he was a good friend.'

Astralas looked at the bracelet again.... rotating it in her hands, there was something written inside.... most in runes, but what wasn't in runes was 'to my friend to keep safe.' Astralas couldn't help but smile a bit... this purity of silver was expensive...

'I couldn't wear it when I was a kid, to avoid it getting stolen, I.... remember losing it once and finding it back home, but then it had the gem.... what happened to it.?.....'

Astralas looked at the desk next to the bed, vei hadn't looked though all the drawers

One of them had writing utensiles.

Another one had bandages and scissors, and some medications?

The rest were empty, as if someone had cleaned them perfectly... no typical random things that accumulate, either someone was trying to hide something or Avireta really likes cleanliness. Which is understandable.

Feeling the drawers.... 'Is that a fake bottom!??..... oh it isn't, this one is just smaller than the others. Maybe I'm too paranoid? I am chained to the bed by magic. Maybe this is a mormal level of paranoia.'

Astralas again used the bracelet to see if there was something else hidden in the room.... nothing that vei can see while sitting on the bed.

Astralas hid the bracelet when hearing footsteps, then the door opens, were they the maids?

Why... why is he with the food?, he had it in his hand, it was a very colourful cupcake.

Avireta offered the cupcake to Astralas "we had a few of these cupcakes left around, so I guessed that you would enjoy it."

"Thank you" Astralas said before biting the cupcake.... it was really good... "oh!"

Avireta suppressed a chuckle "I guess that you like it" he said with a smile, but his expression changed fast "either that or you are hungry... You didn't call the maids to bring you food" he seemed worried.

"Oh... I wasn't really hung-" the growling of Astralas stomach said otherwise "oh.... Maybe I was too absorbed into the book."

Avireta shook his head, slightly amused "You should remember to eat, you still are recovering. I will call them for you, but next time..."

Astralas interupted "Next time you are going to scold me?" In a joking manner.

"I will now. You xilu" he answered with a laugh before exiting.

After a bit the maids brought the food before leaving.

[muzzlemouths]

*sneaks into your inbox and drops a drabble promp idea?* "Is that what you think?" *runs away*

A - Ah????

i unburied my teeny tiny to-go keyboard for this

Moon Centric // Wordcount: 1,784

“This is a new low, even for you.”

You wish you could say you were surprised - that Moon’s antics were predictable enough by now to warrant genuine disappointment when he did anything outside of his usual box of tricks - but the truth of the matter is that he’s always finding new ways to torment you, and tonight isn’t an exception.

It’s childish, you think. The kinds of games he plays just to get a little more on your nerves, a little deeper under your skin. He’s resorted to ‘harmless’ pranks as of late and while you might prefer those over anything actually dangerous he had attempted prior to this point, it didn’t mean they weren’t frustrating.  Last week it was a chair against the storage closet doorknob; you had to radio a coworker to come let you out. Yesterday he replaced all of your tools with the Fisher-Price version, and you’re still at a loss for where he stashed the ones Sun wasn’t able to locate (that screwdriver was expensive, you’re really going to miss it.)

Tonight, it was doodles in marker on your face.  Permanent marker, to be exact. And it wasn’t. Coming. Off.  “I’m going to miss the bus home because of this,” you turn the faucet to scald and reach in for another pump of hand soap, “if you have a good reason for this I’d love to hear it."

His silence speaks volumes - at least, you want it to. You want him to have an explanation for why you’re fifteen minutes into scrubbing away a crudely drawn mustache from your upper lip. You want him to look in any way remorseful over the fact that your face is poison-ivy red in mismatched blotches from the number of sharpie stars and smiley faces you had already painstakingly washed away. But he’s quiet, and that only proves to work you up more. Maybe that was his goal all along, now that you think about it.

“Are you even listening to me?” The bathroom door is propped open by a wet-floor sign. You face it with a snap, water dribbling down your jaw and reaching the collar of your uniform shirt where it would sit uncomfortably for the rest of your shift.  He stands - no, lounges - on the other side of the door, just outside of the bathroom light’s reach, seemingly bent on ignoring you.

Infuriating, that’s what it is. You could handle the teasing, the immature pokes at your outfit or personality or taste in anything. You could take his persistence in driving you out of a job. But this? Even the scarier moments - the times you second-guessed if this career choice was worth your life - were starting to look more pleasant than what he had resorted to now.  “I don’t even know where you got your hands on this. I know the Daycare only stocks washable markers. You really put in the extra effort just to ruin my night a little more, huh?”

No response. You turn back to the mirror and cup your hands under the faucet, cringing at the way your fingertips have begun to prune. You shoot him one last glare before dunking your face into water, bending at the waist to minimize splashing. Your wet reflection returns successfully clean of mustache.

Feeling brave with your anger you turn back to the door again, vindication running through your veins, “You’re a lot like a dog, you know. A puppy - wreaking havoc out of boredom.” His neck snaps sideways to face you. “Oh, do I have your attention now? Do you hate the comparison that much?” You swear you see his fingers twitch,  “You mess with shit without any understanding of consequence. You run amuck causing problems for other people to clean up and then turn around and pretend it was all just fun and games.  Is that not true?”

“Could play rougher,” his voicebox crackles in what is most definitely a threat, “if you’re tired of games.”

“I’m tired of this,” you point to the remnants of smudged color, “I’m tired of middle-school pranks, I’m tired of you hiding my things, stealing my keys - using my face as a fucking drawing board!”

“Shouldn’t fall asleep on the job,” he hums, evidently already over the puppy comment.

You don’t hide your scoff, “That’s rich, coming from you. I take a little cat nap for ten minutes after weeks of you attempting to put me down yourself, and what do I get for it? Regret, that’s what. Well, it won’t happen again, I’ll tell you that!”

He looks at you. Not directly, but by your reflection in the mirror. Then his arms uncross from over his chest, his back straightens, and he pulls himself away from the door and out of sight. You think maybe he’s just going to leave (a possibility you're not sorry about feeling hopeful for) but a soft thunk against the wall tells you he’s simply moved to stand where you can’t stare him down. Not without leaving the safety of the bathroom light, anyway.

“I just don’t get it,” you give up on getting a response out of him and instead return to the counters so you can keep working at the last smears of marker, “I try to be reasonable, I try to see the good in you, and I’m constantly offering you chances to prove that you’re as forgivable as Sun insists, but you make it really damn hard.” You reach for the paper towel dispenser and impatiently draw more than a handful of them. “Maybe it would be different if I could tell you were trying.  If I could see you doing your best to get better. But you’re not. You caught this virus like a nasty cold and you’re using it as an excuse to bully people.”

You wish there was any real anger behind your words. There was frustration, sure. Exhaustion, definitely. But your venom falls flat, sounding instead like a disappointed parent. Like you're nagging him, like you were seconds away from being the one to threaten time-out, and you expect him to scoff. To shrug at you. Maybe even laugh. 

The silence that meets you is so, so much worse.  It carries on for as long as it takes you to pat the water from your face. Long enough that you begin to think he did, in fact, just leave without saying anything. It wouldn’t have been surprising. But it was terribly awkward, like this, and you suddenly feel the need to clear the air -- he beats you to it.

“Is that what you think?”

You can’t see his face. You want to - in fact, you’ve never before been so desperate to - but his back is against the wall opposite to you, out of sight, and there’s nothing to go off of excluding a slight clip to his tone that might indicate what he’s feeling.

“Well…yea,” you admit, albeit with a somewhat more patient tone, now, “from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you want to get better.”

Silence, again. He drags it out for longer this time.  With nothing left to scrub away you’re lost for what to do while he mulls over your biting words and comes up with his own, something he’s never had an issue doing before. You walk yourself over to the wall, opposite to where you assume he’s standing on the other side, lean your back against it, and wait.

And wait. And wait some more.

“Moon?”

“It’s not true,” his voice is so very quiet when he finally returns to the conversation, “it’s not exactly within my control.”

“Have you tried?”

Only a brief pause this time, “No, I’ve just been letting it ruin my life for the fun of it. Have you tried having an intelligent thought?”

You deserve that. It still makes your nose wrinkle, makes you want to retort with something just as quick, “I’m…sorry,” you say instead, “I’m really trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here, but you’re giving me nothing to work with. How am I supposed to believe you’re really trying?”

“If I weren’t, you would be dead.”

The sassy remark you had prepared instead dies on your tongue. Now it's your turn to go quiet. What was there to say? How could you possibly answer that?

Especially with it being true. 

It was just silly games, you had to remind yourself. It was pranks. Childish jokes. The day you met Moon, he’d cornered you just shy of your first ten minutes on the job and made quick work of destroying your flashlight like it had been a toy. You knew first and foremost what he was capable of. Were you taking these lighter antics for granted? As annoying as they were, you and him could at least agree on one thing; they were harmless in the grand scheme of things.

“This is stupid,” he mumbles. You hear a scuffling, the sound of heavy feet walking away. This time, you don’t want him to go.  

You reach the door in a flash, hands tight on the doorframe, poking your head out, “Wait, Moon,” your voice strains to sound anything but guilty, “it’s not stupid. I--” you watch him pause, listening, his back to you, “I didn’t mean to imply--” you had, “this isn’t what I meant--” but you did, “I--” 

“You?” He turns only halfway to look at you.

This felt awful in every possible way. There was no easy way to dance around the subject now that you had made such a big deal about it.  “I’ll just tell you to lay off next time I’m not up for a game,” is what you end up saying, “I can��t expect you to act mature and then not give you a chance to prove you can be.”

If he’s satisfied with that answer, he doesn’t say anything. But he does nod, and some of the tension in his shoulders subtly relaxes.

“And for the record, I don’t hate it all the time,” you offer, “the games, I mean. You’re fun to hang out with when I’m not left scrubbing marker off my face,” then, with your voice dripping in sarcasm, “you aren’t always awful to be around, you know.”

This time he turns fully, and returns your remark with a smirk tenfold, “I can be,” he says, “or..we can steal a raceway car next time. Be awful together. No more marker.”

You let yourself breathe, content knowing you hadn't worsened whatever semblance of a relationship you had managed to build with him over the last few weeks. "That sounds way funner than this," you say, finally feeling like you're able to smile, "you've got yourself a deal."

[mentallyshattered]

Everyday Freak of Science: part 4

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

I can't sleep. I'm not used to having to lull myself away, after all- back in the lab, sleepless nights were thwarted with drugs, lightly dispensed into my tank until I was away and dreaming. This is different. I thought the lack of machines I'm hooked up to would make it easier to sleep.

Sigh. I should just get up and change- that's what my roommate's done, after all.

Okay, this outfit... looks great! The gold on the lapels of the jacket, the pale blue vest thing, the comfy pants- oh, I might need to take another potion soon.

The door opens quietly.

"Requiem, I've brought your potion and breakfast. If this is not enough, then you are free to get more portions from the dorm lounge- or the Monstro Lounge, if you have the funds."

"Uh, thank you, Jade."

Oh, thank the higher-ups! He has my potion. And, even better- there's algae on my plate! What a relief. I don't want to eat meat- it's never just been on my tongue, always getting forced into me by a scientist.

I don't want to think about that, so I'll just drink the potion and eat the algae. The potion is surprisingly savory, with a tiny hint of sweet, and the algae is terrible, but it's not meat- not that horrible taste and texture that make me gag, that were always forced down my throat because I could never bring myself to eat them.

Trauma. That's the word. I stopped eating one day, and then I was force-fed, and then I never wanted to eat again. It was always meat.

Admittedly, the reason it was always meat was an excellent one. I can't digest plant matter, though I don't know if that's a species thing or a lab creation thing.

Ugh. I should go and eat.

Ooh, this place is nice! The lighting is ambient, it's not too bright, and there's a big table of food. Sea grasses, algae, and the dreaded crustaceans, fish, and seagull all line the table, piled high atop shiny plates.

I'm not taking any meat. In fact, I'm here to return some. Sure, I can't gain from the plants, but I'm not someone who likes eating meat. I should be, but I'm not.

Whatever. The mullet slides onto the plate easily enough, and nobody saw. I don't need to eat much anyway, right? If I just try, I'll be fine, even with an empty stomach.

Even if it's false, I'm still going to dream.

Okay, I should meet with Azul to discuss my phone. That's a good distraction. Where is that office?..

"Hello, Melanopterus. Is there something you need?"

"Phone."

"Ah, but of course! Here you are. I doubt you'll have time to set it up before class, though... You'll probably have to manage that after or during dinner."

"Alright, thank you."

I ought to go to class.

First period is tiring. My lack of sleep makes it ever-worse, as does my empty stomach. I faint, at some point- my rescuer, the boy who carries me to the nurse's office, is very, very loud. Sebek, he calls himself, but I imagine many call him boisterous. His voice booms. Nevertheless, he carries me to safety, unprompted.

Second period is boring. I remain conscious only by doodling in the margins of the notebook Jade so kindly left on my nightstand this morning, with a pencil he so kindly left with it.

Third period is fascinating. Though I fight it the whole way through, I can still feel nausea building up in my abdomen. I harness that, turning it into focus on the given tasks. Learning about the Sea Witch is more than enough to keep me from going to the nurse, though.

And then, lunch. I'm terrified, to be honest- what if Jade realizes I can't eat plants? What if Azul insists I eat lunch with him to set up my phone?

Oh, no. The nausea is stronger now, stronger now that I can smell the food. Meat- lots of it. I want to eat some, and I want it as far away from me as possible- biology versus psychology, and I can't win.

Turtle grass. I'll take some of that. I was never fed that in the lab. It tastes like something inedible, and it technically is, but I don't care-

Oh, no. The nausea is too much, I'm going to vomit, I need a bathroom, where's the bathroom? I can't keep this down. I can't. Is it here?

I burst into a stall, slam the stall door shut behind me, and release my breakfast and lunch into the water. Gross. But, hey, I feel a little better now.

Crap. I'm hungry again. It's more plant matter or meat. I don't want either one, but I'll go for the pants anyway- what's that sound? Heels clacking on linoleum.

"Requiem." Jade's voice is calm, with an underlying current of barely restrained anger. "What are you doing?"

"N-nothing, Jade, I just, um." He's looking down at me like I'm prey and he's predator. "I-I got nauseous during P.E. a-and it got worse when I ate. That's all."

"Look me in the eye, Requiem." He closes his right eye, leaving only the yellow one for me to stare into. "There we go. Shock the Heart."

Something overtakes me. What is this strange sensation? I feel idle- empty, but in a calm sort of way. It's...pretty comfortable, actually. I could get used to this.

"Why did you throw up?"

My voice speaks without me. For a moment, a brief moment, a surge of panic washes through me- I don't want to answer- and then it is calmed into nothing, washed away with the waves that exist only within me.

"I cannot digest what I have eaten."

Jade's gaze looks disapproving. "What did you eat?"

Again, my voice goes on without me, and the momentary wave of panic flows away as quick as it comes. "I had algae for breakfast, and turtle grass for lunch."

"What can you digest?"

"Meat."

He takes my face in his hands, pulling me into a standing position. "Why didn't you eat the mullet I brought you?"

"I don't want to eat meat."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

The spell dissapates. I remain, still and staring into his eye, for another second. Then, he moves.

"Come with me."

His hand is clamped around my wrist, and I have no choice but to do as he says.

[sabineelectricheart]

Blunder at the Farmers' Market

Summary: The moms send Jamie and Baxter to the market for some groceries. She gets distracted and makes a rather humiliating mistake.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 2200

Notes: I’m changing my mind on Baxter. I’m kind of looking forward for his DLC, though I got some spoilers and I didn’t like what I’ve heard. Oh, well...

It was a nice, Saturday morning. Just perfect for a stroll at the farmer’s market, which the moms made sure to send out their youngest daughter to run that errand for them.

Luckily for Jamie, who hates driving, one of their neighbours also had half a mind to go out for some grocery shopping just as she was leaving. Not Cove, though, who was out in Nevada helping out his mother, Baxter was the one in need of some restocking to his fridge. He told her that he was glad to drive her if she was so kind to point him on the right direction and tell him the better stands over there.

Instead of the usual “divide and conquer”, they preferred to walk together, tackling neighbouring vendors at the time, with one ordering them for both households, electing to run the tally when they get home, for convenience. The young man had a small cart in which they could ferry their purchases without too much effort, and, should they elect to pack them separately, they might not fit too comfortably on the inconveniently-sleek car of his.

Jamie shifted her weight between her feet, as she starts to grow tired from walking, while she waits for the honey seller to finish packing up the jars she ordered. She twirled a pen on her fingers, she used it to mark down the price and volume of each purchase, making sure she both does not forget anything nor ends up short when settling with her neighbour.

After a few minutes, the middle-aged woman hands her the paper bag with a commercial smile.

“Will you and your husband be needing anything else?” The attendant asks, helpfully.

Husband. The word stops her heart and her movements. That was one big assumption to make about an admittedly-precocious nineteen-year-old and her twenty-one-year-old companion, but one not entirely unwelcome or unwarranted.

They had been involved over his time at Sunset Bird, and it would be fair to say that the thought of Baxter adorning such a title, as her husband or even something more casual, such a boyfriend or a date, has been in her mind as of late. It has been a while since she figured out that she had a bit of a preference towards him, a very strong preference, though the words have never been spoken out loud until now. A shame neither of them were the one to do it.

It was certainly something she could get used to.

“This should be it, thank you.” The girl responded.

Gripping the pen in her hand tighter, with a smile she could not suppress even if she tried her hardest, she returns to writing down the last of the items she was supposed to be ordering for her neighbour, as he remains busy talking with another merchant. They are mostly done, and could probably sit down for an early lunch as soon as he was done haggling the price of eggplants with the old man running the stall.

A sense of boredom takes over her mind. She leans on the small cart, filled to the brim with bags and boxes, and begins to doodle on the tiny notebook on her hands.

Soon, she finds herself signing a name. Jamie Ward. It has a sound to it.

Her heart flutters and her whole chest blossoms with warmth as she writes her name followed by a surname that did not belong to her. She stares at the letters on her own cursive and finds it quite fetching.

How perfect his name looks with hers. Someday, would that really be her name?

Oh, well, this is not something she really ought to be concerned with as of right now. Eggplants should take precedence on her mind. That, however, is a most boring topic, so she turns the page on her notebook and starts doodling once again.

Some three minutes or so later, Baxter finishes his conversation with the vendor and walks back to where his neighbour waited for him.

“Hey. Sorry for taking so long.” He greeted, cheery.

“Don’t worry. I’m glad you get such low prices on everything. I get to keep the change, you know?” She smiled in return. It was then she realises he was still empty-handed. “Where are the eggplants?”

“Ah, I got 75% off them, but only if I took the ones they thought they wouldn’t be able to sell. They got to pick them up from the truck, so it’s going to take a few more minutes.” He explains, rather sheepish, embarrassing for having a lady wait for him on the sun. “Can I have a piece of paper, please? To write down the order.”

“Sure.” She turned a page on the notebook, ripped it off and handed it to him.

“Sorry again for taking so long. Would you like to go ahead to the car? I can give you the key.” He offers.

The girl shakes her head. “No, no, it’s no problem for me. I’m just going to stand here for a little while longer, people-watching and doodling. Don’t worry.”

“OK, then. I shouldn’t take too much longer.” He said and walked off, back to the stand.

With Baxter still preoccupied with his discount eggplants, she decides to have a look around the neighbouring stands. A few storefronts down, a couple of local New Age communes were selling their products. It is filled with jewellery, crystals, books and other odds and ends, as well as a few cookie recipes that lacked flour, milk, eggs and just about anything that she would consider necessary to define something as such.

Jamie smiled. That is the fun about the farmer’s market, you never know what you are going to find. With the odd list of items her neighbour asked for, it is no wonder that they had to come here, even if it was a good few ways out Sunset Bird. She chalked up to his privileged upbringing.

As the young woman walks around and checks the merchandise at the stands, the little cart pulled behind her, she ends up hanging around her paramour as he impatiently waits for his produce. His conversation with the vendor had long ended and, as she stands closer, his arm snakes around her shoulders.

He pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head. “Are you too tired, Jamie?”

The sound of his voice, the small smile on his face that he often wears when speaking to her, pulls her in like a moth to a flame. She lets her hand lay on the other side of his hip, enjoying the soft heat he radiates warming the tips of her fingers. She is unable to not get lost in his eyes when they stare at her so softly and lovingly.

How Jamie become so lucky to receive such devoted, gentle love, she will never know, but she would always accept it for as long as Baxter was willing to give it to her.

She smiled bashfully. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to some lunch.”

“It shouldn’t take much longer now. Where would you like to eat?”

“Ah, nothing too heavy nor too hot. The sun is making me dizzy.” She complained lightly.

He smirked at her. “You really should’ve taken Liz’s hat when she offered it to you.”

The young woman made a grimace. “It’s too big! I’d look ridiculous on it.”

“Well, have some water if you feel sick, alright?” He offered, slightly concerned about her health. “Did you see anything…?”

His words are cut off by the merchant that helped him before. “Mrs. Ward? Here you are.”

Her arm is barely touching his, but even through such little contact, she can feel him stiffen the moment both of them hear the name listed on the order.

The older man carried a paper bag with a note stapled on the flap, written on the notebook sheet she had given Baxter a few minutes prior. On it, on a bold blue ink, was her practice signature.

Jamie Ward

A moment of silence falls between them as they try to wrap their heads around the situation. Embarrassment fill both of them.

“Ah, yes.” He tears his attention away from her and reaches for the paper bag the vendor has handed him. “Thank you.”

The vendor looks at them concernedly, likely predicting another round of haggling from the cost-conscious young man. “Does everything look okay with your order?”

The question goes unanswered for quite a while and she swears that the only noise in the whole market is the erratic beating of her heart as she watches her date’s porcelain skin burn red and brighter than the shirt on her back, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He seems so shocked he cannot even find it in himself to try to cover his blushing cheeks like he normally would and her own cheeks are not any better.

Should Jamie just run away in embarrassment and hope he does not question her about it later? She would not be able to carry all the produce on the bus back to Sunset Bird, but she does not think her neighbour would just keep them, likely handing them over to her mothers. What if he is not okay with this? They have not discussed how it is going to be between them after the summer, lest of all something so big like marriage. What if he is not ready and she has seriously overstepped some boundaries? Well, overstep she absolutely did. The question now is by how much.

The longer Baxter stays silent, his ember eyes glued to the paper in his hands, the worse her anxieties grow.

Well, maybe Jamie should just take it lighter. It might be just her brain talking over her heart that is making her worried, all for naught. There is no doubt of his love and devotion in her heart or his own and, even though he is not saying anything at this moment, the beating heart in his chest is screaming in excitement, even if his face expressed clear surprise, not that she can really blame him. He had not excepted it and it can naturally send him through a whirlwind of emotions that are very hard to comprehend. She should just wait until he could express them to her privately and own up to her little mistake.

She is right that there is a whirlwind of emotion going through his heart, though not those that she expected. He has known for a long time that he wanted her to be his forever and that he would be quite happy to pursue whatever this is to its logical conclusions, whatever those may be. He is beyond grateful for the patience she has shown him until this point, with his flirty and flighty behaviour and skittish demeanour.

However, it does not mean that the idea was in any way pleasant to him. He appreciated being together, being “couple-y”, but he understands that this is not to last. He is selfish and he wants to take as much as he can get, but when Labour Day comes, he will leave California and forget all about these people, no matter how he feels about them.

If he was a good person, he would avoid them at all costs, behave like the ghost he hopes to be, but he is not good. He is bad, and so he pretends he means to stay, that he intends to be true to his feelings and his promises. Seeing Jamie believe in him makes it more real to him, it reminds him of what he is doing, and it hurts.

Even if it took him a while to open up, he feels that, ever since their dance at the country club so many years ago, his heart has always belonged to her, everything that was Baxter Ward was hers. Seeing his surname signed on her adorably round handwrit like it belonged to her only makes him think he has been foolish to think that he could just disappear from her life and leave nothing behind. If he wanted to have just a casual summer fling, he should really have picked someone else.

The air around them is almost uncomfortably hot, both of their blushes burning brightly on their skin. Jamie needed to break the tension before they both combust in a flame of awkwardness but, the moment she perks up to speak his name and ask him if he is alright, he clears his throat and finally answers the merchant.

“Yes, everything seems to be in order. Thank you.” The young man responds, an easy smile on his face.

His voice had that charming lilt as it normally had, even though his cheeks are still tinted a lovely shade of red and his lips are tugged into a usually unseen sincere smile. His free hand finds hers, long fingers slipping between the spaces of her own and squeezing tenderly.

“Come on, Mrs. Ward. Let’s grab some lunch.” He says, teasingly.

She rises to the occasion. “Lead the way, darling.”

Jamie and Baxter leave the market hand in hand.

*_*_*_*_*

Our Life Masterlist

[keybladeselkie]

Pokemon, A DnD journey.

A few years ago I was messing around with concepts to replay Pokemon Firered and wanted to try something different. At the time one of my dnd buddies wanted to doodle something cute for a charmander lying on a pile of gold named Smaug. Then it hit me. I asked for her permission to borrow the name of the charmander and decided a small challenge for myself.

Making a Pokémon team themed around Dnd monsters and classes.

I named the male protagonist, Hiro as a wordplay for Hero and named the rival, Lu or short for Lich.

Then it became a running theme up until Pokemon Sword and Shield came out. I might go back and try again with the latest games if this becomes popular or if I just feel like it.

I even wrote down all of the Pokémon I used on my main teams throughout the games with their names, natures, and personalities with little quirks I added to spice up the story. Even imagined the Pokemon to speak and everything. No, this wasn’t a nuzlocke but it was still a fun challenge for me gameplay wise and story wise.

Here is the first chapter of the Firered play through, enjoy!

Chapter One: A Boy and his Dragon.

Life in Pallet Town was simple and rather bland for the residents of this quaint town. That is unless you were becoming ten and starting to begin your journey as a Pokémon trainer. Young Hiro Fukuda was about to get his starter Pokémon and be on his way to starting his journey. However he wasn’t going to get his starter from the Professor like normal kids, he was going to get his first Pokémon from his family.

Hiro’s father eagerly awaited for the day that his son would carry on the Fukuda legacy and grow up to become a strong trainer just like him. His mother though nervous was supportive of her son’s future and gladly helped Hiro pack up for his journey.

Once everything was settled, Hiro’s parents sat the boy down with a pokeball on the table. The boy beams brightly as he stares at the pokeball with excitement in his eyes as he carefully grabs the ball and presses the button. And then a bright red beam would appear before the family before morphing shapes until the light begins to fade. Revealing a bright orange salamander with a small ember on it’s tail.

“A charmander! Awesome!” The boy cheers as he jumps up to his feet and reaches out to pet the salamander. A faint startled noise escapes the tiny lizard as he reels back a bit before calming down as Hiro begins to softly pet him on the head. “Awww, looks like you two are becoming fast friends already.” Hiro’s mom coos as she takes out a camera.

Hiro’s father chuckles warmly as he watches the adorable scene and shakes his head at his wife. “One picture dear, we shouldn’t keep them from starting their journey.” The father hums before turning to his son. “Any idea what you’re going to name him, Hiro?”

Hiro blinks as he pauses with petting his new buddy before tilting his head in thought. “Hmm…How about…Smaug? Like Smog but better sounding and it has character.”

“Perfect.” Hiro’s father chuckles once more in amusement before they all heard a faint *click* sound. Hiro’s mother beaming with pride as she shakes the Polaroid with reckless abandonment before gently blowing at it. “You can say that again.”

Hiro snickers as he looks to his parents before down to his new companion and smiles brightly. “Ready to get going Smaug?” Smaug with his new name looks up to Hiro eagerly before bobbing his head yes.

“You best be careful out there okay?” His mother pouts as she leans over the coffee table to gift her son a warm hug. “I will, I promise.” Hiro reassures while returning the hug.

“Oh, and tell Lu we said hi. Though I do hope the poor dear is doing well..” Hiro’s mother gives another pout while resting a hand on her cheek. “They haven’t been the same since their parents passed away..”

Hiro dips his head in a somber manner as he looks down to his partner Pokémon. “Yeah…I haven’t seen them in a while. I do hope they’re okay.”

“Well if you see them, tell them that our door is always opened and that they are welcomed to stay for dinner.” Hiro’s father nods, reaching for his glasses and book. “You be safe out there and make us proud.”

As if almost like magic, the boy shakes off the sadness looming over him. “I will, thanks guys! Love you!” He calls out before scooping up Smaug in his arms, dashing out the door.

Eagerly rushing out to begin his journey, young Hiro did not know what fate would await him. What tales to be told?

To be continued.

[sysig]

Style challenge with Edgar

[chuuyrr]

hi po! pede po bang pa request ng baby! Fushiguro x bsd na nag ka crush sa port mafia? kayo na po bahala kung sino and pede nyo naman din hindi gawin yung request (´∀`)

scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader has a crush on akutagawa

jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungou stray dogs

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible bungou stray dogs spoilers, themes of fluff, soft(?) akutagawa

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungou stray dogs x reader

hello yes i opened requests as of 06/09/22 :D thank you so much for requesting bb!! i couldn't decide which port mafia scarlet fushiguro bb reader will have a crush on, so im doing akutagawa ryunosuke because he's so pretty, and so is gin (insert bi panic) and i might do a separate one for chuuya because im biased but idk yet, anyway enjoy ♡

apart from the armed detective agency, you spent time in the port mafia base too, mostly because chuuya was there. it started when you came back to their world and ended up straight to where chuuya was because you missed him. he panicked at first because the port mafia isn't a place for children. two, he doesn't know how mori and the other members will react.

but that was until you ended up running straight to elise, and she ended up liking you a lot. so as to not upset elise-chan, mori, and the rest of the mafia, they treat you nicely, but also because they want to get on your good side since they discovered you were a special gifted person who has great aim and wits, and you could be a valuable asset to them.

you haven't really met the black lizards since you were often at chuuya's office or at mori's office because elise, your playmate, was there. so, while you were at mori's office, coloring and doodling on paper together with elise while chuuya and mori were discussing mafia business, the door opened to reveal a young man with choppy black hair with side bangs that reach his chin and turn white at the tips and sharp gray eyes dressed in a long black coat and white dress shirt with layered ruffles on the chest.

"[name]-chan? [name]-chan?" elise noticed you had stopped drawing and was staring at the boy, who had just entered the office, with wide eyes. "what's wrong?"

"nothing!" you quickly responded to her and returned to your drawing, smiling at elise, who was perplexed.

but you kept sneaking glances at him as he bowed to chuuya and mori, and that's how your small crush on the rashomon ability user blossomed, and it wasn't long before chuuya and the rest of the port mafia discovered it.

"oi, [name]-chan! why are you ignoring me?" chuuya pretended to pout as he furrowed his brows at you, who had her attention else where. the two of you were playing cards together somewhere in the port mafia base since it was his break. "i thought i was your favorite and not dazai."

"i'm not ignoring you." you responded without even batting an eye.

"yes, you are! who are you staring at anyways?" chuuya huffed and narrowed his eyes, feeling a little jealous.

"pretty boy!" you pointed your index finger at the boy in the long black coat who was conversing with the girl in the ponytail who had her face hidden.

"pretty what?!" chuuya's eyes widened in surprise as he dropped the cards in his hands.

"him!" you cried out again, a smile on your face, as you tugged on chuuya's sleeve.

chuuya screamed, "AKUTAGAWA?!"

you nodded vigorously before leaping from your seat and sprinting towards him, causing the black-haired boy to take a step back when you placed yourself in front of him. you extended your hand, pointing at him, with a determined expression and a smile on your face.

"i like you!" you exclaimed.

as his sister and the rest of the mafioso in the room paused from whatever they were doing, akutagawa shifted his gaze to you and pointed at himself, perplexed. "me?"

"yes, and i'm gonna marry you too!" with that, you ran right into him, wrapping your tiny arms around his legs and rubbing your cheek against his stomach.

his normally sharp and devoid gray eyes widened as a faint blush of pink spread across his cheekbones. gin, on the other hand, couldn't help but laugh quietly behind her mask as the other mafiosos in the room stared at you as if you were insane. you couldn't really blame them. because of all the people you had to choose from, it had to be the merciless and blunt mafioso over someone sweeter like chuuya.

"o-oi! what the hell are you saying?!" akutagawa stammered out, attempting to distance himself from you.

"i said i like you and i will marry you!" you repeated, and this time, his face burned beet red instead of pink.

"stop spouting nonsense kid! you are not marrying me!" akutagawa grabbed you with rashomon, a black tendril wrapped around your body that yanked you upwards in the air, away from him.

"yes i am! it's not nonsense! it's love!" you giggled as you traced a heart in the air with your now red glowing index fingers.

"shut up! s-stop that!" he scowled at you before gently handing you into chuuya's arms and storming away, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"jesus christ, kid. why did it have to be him? dazai and the agency is going to freak out." chuuya shook his head and mumbled, as you waved your hand at akutagawa as he walked away.

and, true to chuuya's words, dazai and the armed detective agency freaked out when they discovered your crush on a port mafia member, specifically the scariest and meanest mafioso. our poor detectives truly believed that someone with a special ability or some sort of black magic was behind all of this.

"you like akutagawa ryunosuke?! why?"

atsushi was in so much disbelief.

what do you see in that guy that they don't..?

"mhm! he's a pretty boy and his ability is super cool. everything about him is just dreamy!" you expressed, throwing your arms in the air before clasping your hands together. "and i already made up my mind that i'm gonna marry him!"

dazai instantly became a splitting image of your dad, gojo satoru. "no, no, no. you're not marrying anyone little missy! not on my watch, ya' hear?" he placed his hands on his hip, peering down at you.

"but why?" an adorable pout contorted on your face at that instant.

"because you're too young and you should only marry the person you really love!" dazai argued, puffing his cheeks.

"then i'll marry him when i get older!" you bit back. "i love him already!"

"why not.. i don't know.. someone like.. chuuya-kun? actually, no. nevermind that. he's a terrible choice, [name]-chan." dazai scratched his head, grimacing a bit when he mentioned his old partner.

"i don't like chuuya-nii!" you stuck your tongue out, folding your arms.

"ah, thank goodness! i'm glad you agree!" dazai draped the back of his hand on his forehead as leaned back dramatically, faking a tear.

"i'm still marrying him! you can't stop me!" you persisted, running towards the door to head to your "one true love".

dazai gasped, immediately getting up from the couch to chase after you as you left. "no you will not! get back here, [name]-chan! no marrying!"

"and dazai calls me a 'mother-hen'." kunikida drew out a sigh, shaking his head as atsushi sweatdropped.

[skzsauce01]

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3