#like if I’m committing a crime I will wear a hat + mask and no jacket if possible

[garashir]

my first playthrough I would grow out arthurs hair and beard each chapter then chop it all off when the gang would move camps in order to avoid being recognized for immersion sake…now I only care about how he looks for taking screenshots

[erscogadatabase]

22 - Session 36!

Date: 6-22-2024 IDST

Log Lady: Hellooooo and welcome to another installment of Ask Erik! I’m coming to you live from Erik’s hallway! He doesn’t know we have questions, I’m planning for this to be a sneak attack round! It’s been a hot minute, give or take…. 5 years since I locked myself out of my Wattpad account. Good to be back, folks! We are coming up on the music room door right now- ERIK!! QUESTIONS!!!!!! *pounds on door*

Erik: *pokes head out* Questions?? I thought you couldn’t access the book anymore?

Log Lady: These came to me from the void! I figured we could do a session and send it back to the void to see what happens. 

Erik: The void……? How does one receive something from an abstract- ah, nevermind. I’ve learned better than to question your ways. Let’s sit down and proceed. 

Log Lady: Alrighty! Our first few come from user Ghost_of_John. They ask “What’s your favorite kind of tea?”

Erik: I’ve always been rather fond of a strong, robust, Assam with a smidge of sugar and occasionally a splash of milk to compliment it. 

Log Lady: Tasty! “What’s your favorite opera, other than your own?”

Erik: *lost in thought for several moments* Narrowing down just one opera, when I now have access to centuries’ worth of music and art is difficult, my friend. I suppose my present favorite is Turandot, by Giacomo Puccini. It may change within the week, however!

Log Lady: “The music library at my school is a mess, and I want to rearrange it but I want to do it in secret. Do you have any Phantoming tips for sneaking around and doing stuff in secret? Should I wear a mask too?”

Erik: To be frank, humans are by nature ignorant, and are unlikely to notice any actions you may take unless you make great effort to draw attention to yourself. Anyone who sees you moving things will likely assume you work there. However, if mystery and dramatics are your goal, I’d recommend a few things: Work by night, and leave only minuscule evidence of your presence. You’re welcome to use my method of leaving roses behind, or you can find your own unique marker. Most door handles are able to be removed with a simple screwdriver, bypassing the manual lock. Make sure to reassemble it after your work is done in order to keep your entry method a secret. A billowy cape and hat to hide your silhouette so you are unrecognizable. Finally, you must wear a signature mask, of course! Best of luck in your pursuits, my friend. 

Log Lady: Maybe just don’t like… commit any crimes while you’re there please. Or if you do, you didn’t get your advice from us. *wink wink* Next up are some from UnderwaterButterfly797! “Do you like yarn crafts?”

Erik: I learned how to knit using rudimentary (cough, stolen, cough) supplies out of necessity when I did not have access to much clothing, but I do not find it enjoyable. I much prefer to ask Log Lady to make me things of the yarn variety when I desire them.

Log Lady: Wait, you’re telling me you could have made that really complicated sweater that you asked for last year??? I slaved over that thing for months!!!

Erik: Ah, but had I made it, it would not be imbued with the love of a friend! *sly grin*

Log Lady: *grumbles* You’re lucky I enjoy my crafts… Next up, “What’s your voice part?”

Erik: All of them! I am a natural baritone, however if necessary I can sing tenor and alto and put on a falsetto for soprano. 

Log Lady: Seriously, you should hear his one-man Bohemian Rhapsody. I don’t really get this next one… “Have you seen the ghost of John? Wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on?”

Erik: Does he have long white bones with the rest all gone? 

Log Lady: Huh? Ok let’s continue. Next we have two from “LetTheRiverRun”. “whats ur favorite thing uve written?” And “do u like choir music?”

Erik: Choir music is lovely. I’ve written quite a few choral arrangements that I’m proud of, although the original score is long since lost, and I do not recall what I had titled them. It’s a shame how much music I lost in the great fire, looking back on it now… 

Log Lady: Man, if only someone hadn’t set that fire. 

Erik: :P

Log Lady: Next up is Edge_of_Infinity. “When did you learn English? Before or after you got here?” ”I feel like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve asked a question on here, haha! Erik, how is living with Raoul now and not Log_Lady?”

Erik: Good to hear from you again, mon ami! I learned English quite a long time ago. While I was traveling, it was a very useful skill to be able to pick up on languages as I needed them. Granted, the language is very different now to the version I learned, I like to think I’ve caught on to the changes fairly well. Also, I am quite enjoying our living arrangements. There are considerably fewer shenanigans around here. Raoul and I have both found benefits to living together and getting to know one another on a deeper level.

Log Lady: Aaaaand that ties in to our next question from xX_Phantom_Lover_Xx! “OMG i cant believe i havent seen this book before??? erik i luv u!!! why r u living with raul he stole ur girl???”

Erik: Technically speaking, it was I who stole Christine from her own innocence and agency. Raoul fought to allow her to make her own choice, while I manipulated her in an attempt to do my will. Raoul is a lovely person, and he always wanted what was best for her, something I am ashamed to say was never my goal. A human is not a possession to be “stolen”. She made her own choice, and I can now respect that. 

As for why we are now residing as housemates: at first it was a matter of convenience. We enjoy it now, though. Had situations been different, we likely could have been friends from the start. His kind and gentle nature counterbalances my anger and impulsivity. He also seems to enjoy my companionship. Though I fail to see my merit to him, I must trust him when he assures me of our friendship. He says that we have helped one another to grow, and I would agree.

Log Lady: Next we have a few from AliOop284: What’s your favorite consonant cluster?

Erik: I am fascinated by words that have ‘tsch’ in them, such as kitsch. 

Lady Lady: Oh, you can always tell when Erik is on a language kick, because he starts using words no one has ever heard of. “Do you know IPA? (not the beer)” 

Erik: Ah yes, are you referring to the International Phonetic Alphabet? I’m quite familiar. I took an interest in language and its history due to how often music and language are inseparable in the context of the art. One cannot fully appreciate, say, an Irish lilt or an Italian aria without first understanding the language involved! Latin script was very heavily used in older religious texts and written music, which is where I picked up on the IPA……… *continues on for like 10 minutes, but Log Lady isn’t smart enough to transcribe it and spell it all properly*

Log Lady: Next, “Do you drink alcohol?”

Erik: In the past I’ve enjoyed it, but presently I am joining Raoul in his sobriety as way of being supportive and keeping him away from temptation. It is an unhealthy coping mechanism for the both of us. 

Log Lady: I’ll fire off these next three from MerryMary2019 all at once; “What’s your favorite color? What’s your second favorite color? What’s your third favorite color?”

Erik: Black. 

Log Lady: ….. and the other two?

Erik: Black. Black. 

Log Lady: ah. I see. Next up from Green_Finch: “What’s your favorite sweeney todd song?”

Erik: Green Finch and Linnet Bird. I’m rather partial to light and airy Soprano pieces.

Log Lady: “Do you like bread?”

Erik: Of course! Bread is a staple for many dishes. I’m very fond of this new kitchen appliance I have called a “Panini Press”. 

Raoul, from the other room: OH GOD ARE WE HAVING PANINIS FOR DINNER AGAIN??? I heard you say panini! I’m ordering takeout…. 

Erik: My housemate does not share the same fondness, it seems. 

Log Lady: These final questions from LineInTheSans are pretty existential. “Do you know the Man Who Speaks in Hands?”

Erik: Do you refer to sign language? I do know the language and have made pleasant conversation with the Deaf man who makes my coffee. How do you know about that? 

Log Lady: I feel like they’re referencing something we don’t get…. “Have you ever thought about a world where everything is exactly the same, except you don't exist?”

Erik: Yes, quite often. While I enjoy existence presently, there was a time when I’d have preferred not to exist. I daydreamed about it sometimes. 

Log Lady: “Where do you suppose someone erased from existence would go?”

Erik: My answer depends on what exactly that question means…… If you’re referring to my spiritual beliefs about death, I have none. What happens to me after I perish is simply none of my business. Hopefully I will not be conscious to experience it. If the question is taken in a more literal sense, as in the very concept of the person ceases to exist, and is made to have never existed in the first place, then I don’t think they would go anywhere. How could someone who doesn’t exist go anywhere?

Log Lady: Aaaaand that’s all for today!! I didn’t really think about how to submit these back to the void…… any ideas? 

Erik: How did you get them in the first place? 

Log Lady: They came *unintelligible tv static* I mean- *more tv static* - ah shoot. I don’t think the universe will let me talk about it. Well, I’ll put it under my pillow before bed. If you guys are reading this then that means it worked! Great to speak to an audience again, and farewell!

Erik: Good bye everyone, thanks for the questions! 

(Elsewhere in Ask Erik, a farmer named Old McDonald is still paying off his $100 fine for careless discharge of a firearm.)

Old McDonald: *grumbling about nosy governments* *sitting on his porch, waiting for intruders, despite the fact that none have ever showed up on his land*

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a famous singer lay dying, cradled in the arms of a masked man.)

Christine: Just love, just live… 

Erik: I’ll give all that I have, and take what little I deserve… 

Christine: Come closer, I beg you, closer still… Remember, love never dies… Kiss me one last time…

(The singer perishes, with no strange figure to spirit her away just before she dies to gunshots that were all too real.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a Narrator falls from the hand of a giant, dying immediately upon impact with the ground, with no meddling queens to save him.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a young British boy perishes at the hands of one of his peers, sent tumbling off of a cliff by a boulder.) 

(Elsewhere in the multiverse…)

Johnny: *throws away the loaf of bread he bought at the sub shop and goes about his day* Time for another day of 8th grade… 

Sasha the Bread Wife: *subjugated to the passage of Earth-time and the consequences of existing in Reality, Sasha molds and eventually decays, disintegrating to nothing.* 

(In the high school, a band teacher and his student teacher start up an entirely unremarkable rehearsal.)

Mr. T: Alright everyone, let’s look at measure 85. We’re gonna wanna put a nice crescendo and decrescendo there. Think of this piece as “The Barrel of the Swells”! 

Mr. B: *continues writing down his observations*

(In another part of the school…)

Addy: *doing homework* Man this would be so much more fun if I had a dragon…

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a bitter wizard man prepares for his next class of the day.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, an equally bitter skeleton man stands on a catwalk above his society’s power source, contemplating nonexistence and the strange half-remembered dreams about humans he’s been having lately.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, the goat-footed balloonMan whistles far and wee.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a once famous confectioner sits in prison, having been convicted of child endangerment.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a woman faces a dragon atop one of New York city’s tall buildings.)

Narissa: *falls to her doom, turning into dust, yet feeling as if this is not the first time this has happened*

Giselle: Robert! Hold on! *catches him as he falls*

Giselle and Robert: *screaming, but manage not to fall off of the roof like Narissa*

Giselle: Is this a habit of yours? Falling off of stuff?

Robert: Only when you’re around to catch me.

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, the citizens of Shellmound go about their day, and never wonder what happened to the towns to the east that never existed.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a statue of a woman and her flying serpent sits in the middle of a grand music room in a castle made of diamonds.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a bard, sorcerer, cleric, and ranger approach the most prestigious university in their world.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, in Insedit, a grand battle is taking place between the current guardian, Leba, ruler of the Fall-Winter transition, and a cruel and powerful tyrant-to-be: a dapperly dressed four-inch tall man known only as the Pocket Magician™)

Leba: My people! Pay no heed to his theatrics! He grows more powerful with every clap, every cheer, every glance that comes his way!

Pocket Magician™: YOU FOOL! I’VE BEEN LEFT UNCHECKED FOR SO LONG, I NO LONGER NEED TO EARN YOUR PRAISE! I’LL TAKE IT FROM YOU BY FORCE! *pulls a full-size rabbit out of his tiny top hat*

(The crowd tries to look away, but it’s impossible. The Pocket Magician™ has become too strong. Against their will, they begin to cheer.)

Citizen of Insedit: *through a pained grin* If only someone had found him a pocket to reside in! This would have never happened!

(Elsewhere in Insedit, in a small kingdom called Fabrezia…)

Nameless street cleaner: Watch out for the holes.

Nameless citizen with vague job: Which hole?

Nameless street cleaner: All of them, plot-related or otherwise.

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a traveler and her floating companion continue their search for her brother, feeling as though there’s one place they’ve forgotten to check.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a man in an elf costume finds his father, and never wonders why it feels like they aren’t meeting for the first time.) 

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a society of monsters starts another day trapped Underground. A human child makes their way through The Ruins.) 

Toriel: *preparing a butterscotch-cinnamon pie*

Papyrus: *in his house, preparing a batch of spaghetti* HMM… THIS PERFECTLY-CRAFTED BATCH OF SPAGHETTI IS… MISSING SOMETHING. *digs through his refrigerator, looking for chocolate*

Sans: *lighting a candle in the living room*

Papyrus: … *stops his rummaging, smelling the candle* I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD BE DOING THIS WITH SOMEONE… 

Sans: couldn’t be me, bro. you know im not nearly as good at spaghetti as you are. 

Papyrus: YOU’RE RIGHT, I AM GREAT!

Asgore: *alone in his house, scrapping another botched pie* 

Mettaton: *in Alphys’s lab, having modifications made to his body* I could have sworn we’ve already fixed this glitch, darling… Have you considered getting some robotic lab assistants to help you with this? Perhaps hexagon-shaped?

Alphys: M-mettaton, please, I already have enough work to do between this a-and… and my… and breaking the B-Barrier… 

Undyne: *standing outside of her burning house* Man!!! I hope all of the kids got out of… Wait, why would there be children in my house????

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, four orange-clad employees come to the realization that they have failed to make quota, even though they don’t remember any time passing since they last visited the Company. The doors to their spaceship crank open, and they’re flung out into the far reaches of space.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, or perhaps everywhere in the multiverse at once, a girl and her mother realize they’ve jumped back to where they left off.)

Joy: *taking in her familiar surroundings* Well, that was weird. But I guess it was just another statistical anomaly. Now, are you coming with me or not? *gestures to The Bagel*

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, an isolated bean factory sits in an empty pocket of interdimensional space, continuing its operations in peace.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a variety of trolls and humans continue their Storyline, oblivious to any changes or not-changes in their dimension’s location.)

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, the planet of light and the planet of darkness prepare for war. A shift in the balance between light and dark seems to have thrown the whole galaxy off.)

Queen Anora: *fussing over her daughter* *in Ruw Eyeah* I will not have you going off to fight in another war! It is enough of a hassle that you were on the front lines of the first one. 

Princess Sage: Ugh! I don’t understand how you can expect me to sit here while our entire planet is in conflict with those… heathens on Dunkel! Let Adrianne be the good girl, to sit here and look pretty for morale. 

Princess Adrianne: Sage, please… Mother, surely there’s a way we could resolve this without another battle…

Queen Anora: Adrianne, my dear, you know I don’t want to fight them. But with their planet shifting so close to ours, our entire way of life is at stake. We have no reason to believe they won’t attack us at their first convenience.

Princess Adrianne: If only we could form some sort of a treaty with them, an assurance that we don’t want to fight them… 

(On Dunkel…)

The Cinmpaden, Etommt: *in Dunkelian* Elders, listen close. The Oracle has not spoken with us for months. We can only assume the worst. Lux draws nearer and nearer everyday…

Cuber: Yes, but are we positive that the Oracle’s silence and the decreasing proximity is because of the actions of the Lumoae, rather than… being bound by the physics of this dimension we’ve found ourselves in?

Deler: We can’t be too careful with those uptight barbarians…

Etommt: Correct, Deler. We must be prepared. Perhaps if some third party were to intervene, we could work this out, but we’re on our own. Contact all available generals at once. It’s time to get serious.

(Elsewhere, across the galaxy, the leader of a planet torn apart by its own wars laments the conditions her people find themselves in, as a friend of hers arrives to help her planet’s trade.)

Satine: Thank you for coming, Padme. I know our decision to stay neutral has caused distress in the Senate. But for many here, the fallout from your war has been too much. 

Padme: If your government has trade concerns, we can talk. Many systems have been affected. I assure you not everyone in the Republic has neglected Mandalore, and there are those of us who would still vote, to give you any help you require.

Satine: The help we need now is opening trade routes so we may get supplies more freely…

(Elsewhere, outside the multiverse, Nalitie and Dukermin awaken.)

~•*•~

(Previous)

(Next)

(Table of Contents)

[eclaire-went-bam]

random riddler headcanons

cannot read the difference between > or <, he uses the "which way is the alligator facing" thing to help him. he keeps this secret very close to him

idk abt you guys but for some reason he always gave me. ace-spec vibes???

on that note he's quoisexual in my eyes. there are,,,question marks on the flag bro,,, it's perfect

that being said he's still DEF homoromantic we all saw that one coming

can't say the words “floor ride in the wyatt tier” in one go

has this unexplained fear of being wrapped up in something, especially arkham straight-jackets (ref to that one throwaway line in young justice lol)

biggest troll bait

80 page long defense plan intro is not fully an intro. it just. trails off into how he hates the batman and how superior he is to him after page 62 (reference to an arkham knight dlc)

the full defense plan is exactly 765 pages

has an official twitter account

adamantly believes cicada 3301 is real. he really wants to join just to feel super smart, but he found out about the whole thing after the organisation/arg/whatever you think it is went silent

when asked how he is, he says “well” to flaunt his correct grammar (although saying good is actually acceptable too lol don't tell him)

has spent WAY too much money on that green luminescent paint. he probably would've been richer than bruce wayne if he just saved it (arkham games again)

has taken either dance or theatre in the past behind his father's back. that's how he so effortlessly makes dramatic speeches, poses, and movements without falling over

would cry if he got a 99% instead of an 100% on a test. partly because 99 is an odd number and i need to self-project though (but also validation i guess 🙄)

can't??? drive???? PLEASE never let him behind the wheel he'll get a diu even while completely sober

hair conditioner before shampoo

he doesn't need a mask, everyone already knows who he is. at this point he just wears it because it feels natural to wear it when he's commiting 💕felonies💕 if not he feels practically nude

nobody knows if it's nygma or nigma and that's his greatest riddle in his eyes

has said or done SO many things solely because he wanted validation or to prove something and is now held up to that expectation all the time it's not fun

somehow rhymes when he's either very euphoric or very angry and he hasn't even noticed he does this

i mean yeah he rhymes with some of his riddles but those are on purpose

he was just. REALLY influenced by those books that are completely full of riddles when he was little. found it collecting dust on a shelf he was finally barely tall enough to reach when he was like 8 and practically brought it everywhere cus it made him feel so cool

speaking of which, serious case of chuunibyou/eighth grade syndrome

instead of just. saying words like "twenty" hell say stuff like "onescore" (hopefully i'm thinking of it right)

for someone who speaks with a lot of question marks he sure does have a lot of exclamation point undertones

doesn't curse just so he doesn't sound lesser. instead he'll try his very hardest to make improvisions that he tries to not make sound stupid

they sound stupid.

you best BET he flaunts whatever hat he has on EVERYWHERE that's his PRIZED possession

when he committed his first riddle crime everyone thought it was an arg

utilises the manipulative kind of word salads to sound intelligent (just wanna emphasise, not the schizophasia kind)

whenever it involves himself, he can't tell when others are joking or not

whenever he walks into the restroom, of course, he stares longingly into the mirror

honestly if there's any mirror he'll examine himself in it, even if not obviously. he needs to make sure he still looks a a a a adorable!!

“riddle me this: cryptocurrency???”

[jcmorrigan]

Rank all the disguises that Megavolt and Quackerjack wore in “Stressed To Kill” from best to worst in your opinion. BTW, thanks for reblogging my fanart of those 2 as Dr. Heebie and Dr. Jeebie.

Okay, just rewatched this, and I'm gonna go worst to best because that order's more fun. I'm also expanding the parameters - it's every outfit they wore. I'm gonna do a separate list first for the ones we were told about but never saw, and that I wish we had seen.

THE UNSEEN, WORST TO BEST:

4. A cowboy and an Indigenous American

The 90s were, uh, a weird time when it came to cultural appropriation. I'm not too mad we didn't see these getups, especially since Megavolt in a feather headdress already happened in "Comic Book Capers" (which is how I know it was him). Oh, but he was also in a cowboy hat in the giant magnet episode. Neither of these was anything special. Except, y'know, the headdress was awkward because 90's appropriation

3. Two pumpkins

Kinda vanilla, and probably identical, but let's face it: this would've been hecka cute. Imagine the slapstick potential! One of them probably trips and falls over and rolls for like a BLOCK!

2. Pirates

If Megs is wearing the pirate outfit from Darkwing Doubloon, then I definitely wanna see that again, because that was a nice outfit. Quackerjack, of course, wears THE EXACT SAME THING HE ALWAYS DOES in that episode, but he's described as being one of two pirates, which means this time, he ACTUALLY WORE THE COSTUME, so please, give me the forbidden Pirate Quackerjack!

1. Circus clowns

They already are clowns. Let me see them wear their true colors of clownitude. Also think of all the colors! The polka dots! There's so much you can do with this aesthetic, and it'd work so well for them since they usually wear bright colors to begin with!

THE SEEN, WORST TO BEST:

6. Firefighter Quackerjack

This one barely counts, but what the hey. Thing is, he went to all the trouble of putting on the hat and getting a tiny fire truck in order to light that fire, so why didn't he go for the coat as well? Rest of the uniform? I want to see him commit a heist as a firefighter and have an axe strapped to his belt that he attempts to use in close combat but fumbles and drops harmlessly on his foot. Also, Megavolt didn't get a corresponding outfit, so booooo.

5. Pharaohs

These guys have been wearing crazy costumes all dang week and then all of a sudden, they show up wearing just pharaoh headdresses and no other part of the costume? I mean, I guess that avoids another weird 90s cultural appropriation incident, but it's also so vanilla. C'mon, you guys can step it up. Now, I’ve just been reminded that this is because they literally just stole the headdresses from the museum and decided to wear their loot home, as opposed to coming up with an actual disguise, so this can get a pass to some extent. Still, you know these boys would’ve loved to wear EVEN MORE historical costuming from that same museum.

4. The community service jumpsuits

No, not a disguise, but I think they look kinda neat in these. I like the running gag that Quackerjack never takes off his jester hat no matter what else he wears. I think the Paddywhack episode is the only time we ever see him without the hat, and that's for maybe three seconds as he's sucked into the vortex. That hat is part of him.

3. Their normal outfits

Okay, I just wanna talk about how great their designs are, okay? The bright colors. The fact that they're pretty much palette opposites - QJ is red and purple while Megavolt is yellow and blue with a little orange. The way their aesthetics are completely different, but also totally complement one another. You see them committing crimes together and you're like "They just GO. They MATCH."

2. Doctors Heebie and Jeebie

Absolutely classic Quackerjack-and-Megavolt disguises. Lab coats, masks, the immersive experience. Princess, you've pointed out that they actually look more like dentists, and that's CORRECT, and it's even funnier that way because they still get away with it. The longer that scene goes on and the more Darkwing just DOESN'T REALIZE who's in front of him, despite, y'know, the JESTER HAT, the funnier it gets. I'm always a sucker for when Paper Thin Disguises inexplicably work. It's peak humor.

1. Shakespearean actors

Okay, but this had to take the cake! Quackerjack in old English clothing with a waistcoat? Snappy! MEGAVOLT IN A DRESS, THOUGH? PERFECTION. I also love that his complaint is that by that point, it's getting "boring." He never has any aversion to the dress due to femininity, and does a cute little curtsy with it later in the scene - no, his problem is just that it's the fourth costume in the same night. But it's a very beautiful dress, and it suits him quite well. I like that he's comfortable enough with his masculinity to rock it.

But, uh...c'mere. Got a secret for you. Okay, you ready? So Quackerjack's outfit is mostly earth tones with a green vest. Megavolt's is a purple gown with corset lacing in front. They're...they're Eugene and Rapunzel from Tangled. This was years before Tangled was even a concept but SOMEHOW they are wearing a pretty convincing Tangled cosplay. Food for thought.

[secondhand-trash]

Love in the Time of Allergies

A/N: this is a concept from @redbeanteax and I’m down immediately after she told me about it lmao

Pairing: florist!Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Description: You were a tattoo artist who loved flowers and he was a florist who was allergic to flowers.

Word count: 6785

Playlist:

How Long?//Vampire Weekend

Pleaser//Wallows

Flowers In Your Hair//The Lumineers

-

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. If you wandered through the many narrow lanes, maybe you would get further and further away from the flagships and tall windows of the main avenue in front of the quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd, bunches and bunches of bouquets lined up at the windows and pots hanging from the awning.

Sakusa Kiyoomi lived right above that flower shop, which he coincidentally runs.

Every morning, he woke up to the sun shining through the thin linen of his curtains. The streets were already alive by the time he was awake. The sounds of delivery vans driving past his window, the crisp bells of school children riding along the road to school on their bicycles ticking his still hazy senses. He was not a snoozing type of person by all means, immediately getting up to get his day starting the moment he paused his alarm. Then he would fold up his sheets neatly, getting them in the washing machine so he could replace it with the ones that had just finished drying the night before. Sakusa always made cleaning the first thing he does right after he wakes up, it made him feel productive and he relished in the feeling that his space was spotless at every corner. 

By the time he was done, it would be time for him to go downstairs to open up the store and get ready to receive the batches of fresh flowers that were delivered every day. If he pushed open his windows, the sweet smell of flowers together with the morning air would fill his room.

A florist with a face that looked like he walked out of an ink portrait from the old times, just him standing there could be worthy as a still from any movie scene. Long, nimble fingers placing each stem right where it belong, the beauty marks above his brow moving as the man furrowed his eyes in concentration like the morning dew sliding off the white petals of a blooming flower.

A beautiful man and beautiful flowers. It would have been a breathtaking sight if you could ignore the fact that the florist was sadly, severely allergic to the flowers that he was surrounded with at every waking moment of his life.

Sakusa himself would like to argue that you could not, and should not, brush off such an important detail to his survival. Thank you very much.

How did he become a florist in the first place if he was allergic to flowers, you may ask. Well, He didn’t know. One day, he was filling in for his cousin who couldn’t attend his shift because he had dropped ill. Said cousin might have deliberately hidden up the fact that he was working at a place that sells flowers and by the time Sakusa arrived at the storefront feeling like he got struck by thunder, it was too late.

It was a pity that he was such a natural, so much so that he received a phone call from the then shop owner asking if he could come back the next day.

Sakusa still thought about that day occasionally. What had he done to himself, he looked at the sky and let out a long sigh.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was inclined to believe that he must have committed some sort of indescribable crime in his last lifetime to deserve this cruel joke from the universe.

Pulling up the latex gloves, he released the elastic band with a snap as it sit snugly on his wrist. He had his protective suit on, the white plastic covering him from his neck all the way down his legs. He had his mask and mask cover (yes, the mask needed its own cover) on before pulling his hood over and making sure that all his hair was tugged in.

Looking at the mirror, he let out a satisfied hum. Perfect, now all he needed to do was wait for the truck to arrive.

“Hello! Your delivery is here!” 

The deliveryman was a new employer of the company, his uniform neatly buttoned up all the way. He checked his reflection in the window from outside the shop, reminding himself to put on a good smile when greeting the client. It was his first time going out for delivery on his own without a senior tagging along and he intended to leave a good impression.

He shifted his weight from one foot to another while waiting for someone to answer the door. He looked around the street, taking in a deep breath of the morning air. It was a rumor among employers that there was a living urban myth on this street, one that looked like it walked out of a chemical waste field in a dystopian novel was what they said. He chuckled to himself when he recalled how terrified they looked at the describe the myth. Look at the street with its sunshine and serenity, they should at least pick a more suiting location for the lie if they wanted to prank the newbie.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s alright! Please notify me after you checked if all the stock is correct,” he said with a wide smile as he turned around to where the footsteps were coming from, “mr- AH!!!!!!!”

-

A few blocks away, you paused when you heard an ear piercing scream from outside. 

“Did you hear something?” your manager asked, looking out of the shop window with a confused look, “I swore I heard someone screaming.”

You tilted your head, looking away from the poster you were trying to hang onto the wall to follow where they were looking at. There were no panicking or people running to take cover so it didn’t seem like something major had happened. You shook our head, “Maybe it’s the sound of tires screeching?”

“Hm,” they glanced outside in wary but turned back to the empty store with a sigh, “is the backroom all set up?”

Your arms withhold in the air for a moment as you tried to see if the frame was before clasping your hands together in satisfaction before climbing off the stool you were standing on to turn and face your manager, “Yeah, I told the people to place all the chairs down as you said and all we needed to do was to unpack our tools, loaded up the shelves and we’re all done.”

“Ok, good,” they let out a heavy breath, placing their hands on both sides of their waist, “I still can’t believe the landlord of our last place can just take back the lot just like that.”

“Hey, they want to sell it to a big corp for quick bulk of cash instead of renting it out to a tattoo parlor, not that it doesn’t make sense,” you said with a click of your tongue, a loop-sided grin making its way onto your face as they chuckled at the saltiness you were not holding back at all, “at least we managed to find a new place fast.”

“Well, that’s true,” they said, “this seems like a pretty nice street.”

Other than the fact that someone screamed like they walked out of a horror movie in the morning out of nowhere, you thought to yourself but nodded no less as you two stood side by side and looking out of glass windows, trying to not think too much of it.

The fact was, you were just glad that you still had a job. It felt like the sky fell on your head when you walked into your humble little workplace one day to see the heavy expression everyone was wearing only to be told that the lease for the parlor would not be renewed next term. It wasn’t easy to just find a new place to rent so quickly nowadays and the possibility that you might go jobless for months horrified you to no end. 

You liked the parlor you worked in. You had heard your fair share of horror stories of how some places mistreat their apprentices before you made the commitment of applying to become one and even though you were scared out of your mind while you asked if the place was still taking apprentices after being turned down numerous times already, it was nothing short of luck that you ended up being under a group of very nice people when you actually did succeed. You had been in this parlor for several years now, staying behind even after you got your license. You liked the homely little shop and you most definitely loved working for the owner who taught you so much so you couldn’t be more glad when they came in just a week before everything at the old place must be cleared out saying that a new lot had been secured. 

You now needed to wake up a good hour earlier than before and take a bus that you were sure would take you to the other end of the town if you overslept by one station just so you could make it to work on time, but no complaints. At least the street looked nice, and there was a flower shop just a few blocks away from the parlor which you were very happy about. 

You liked flowers, you had always found them to be great inspirations.

“Hello?”

A crisp ring of the bell interrupted the silence you were having while you two quietly unwrapped all the tools and whip them clean before putting them in place at the back.

“Can you go get it? I think it might be some of the other decorations being delivered over.” they said, staring at the little scratch at the back of one of the lamps with a painful expression in their eyes as they realised that it could not be rubbed away no matter how hard they tried.

You pushed away the bubble wrap that was piling up on your legs before standing up, dusting off the plastic strands before walking out to the front of the store.

“Hello- ah!” 

You jumped when you saw a.. well you weren’t sure if that was a person because there was no face for you to identify but they had to be because you could not begin to process what else they might be underneath the full body plastic suit paired with what almost looked like a bee hat, standing at the front door with their arms stiffly extended and holding a flower basket in hand.

Your breath was rigid as you tried to calm yourself down, slowly getting back into a proper posture as you tried to ignore the million questions running through your head. 

“Hello,” the voice sounded a bit distant from behind the mask but you could still make it out to be the voice of a young man. “I’m Sakusa from the flower shop a few blocks away.”

“Oh. Oh, oh, nice to meet you," you blurted out, giving a slight bow when you realised that you were still standing there in a daze, never feeling so confused as to when the person replied to your panicking gestures with a slight nod, “I’m (y/l/n), I’m one of the tattoo artists who work at the parlor.”

So this was the person who runs the flower shop? You tried to control yourself from making it too obvious that you were stealing glances at his more than peculiar attire for walking on the street under broad daylight. You weren’t aware that florists had to dress in bee suits.

Sakusa raised his already raised hand a little, “This is a welcoming gift for your opening.”

“Ah, thank you so much,” you said, gingerly taking a few steps forward to take the flower basket from his glove covered hands. He seemed to be relieved after you took the flowers away from him, letting out a soft sigh and relaxing his shoulders.

“If you need any help please always feel free to come over,” he said, sounding rather unnatural as he stayed where he was, maintaining a fixed distance from you.

“Of course,” you replied, standing with your back just a little straighter at the sheer tension that you were feeling under the stare of a man whose face you could not even see, “thank you for the flowers.”

He gave you another nod before walking out the door and you waited, standing there until he was completely out of your sight and let out the breath you had been holding in.

That was strange, you thought to yourself as you took a look at the basket you were holding.

Hm, the arrangement was very pretty though.

-

At first, you were very hesitant to even go near the radius of the glass door with flower pots hanging down. Could you be blamed? Who wouldn’t be intimidated by a person who showed up in a full body plastic suit? But eventually, your urge to find good references for your sketches gave won over your prejudice and you gathered up all your courage one day while you didn’t have any bookings and walked into the flower shop a few blocks away. 

You weren’t sure if you were more bewildered or satisfied by your predictions being correct when you walked in to see him standing by the counter being covered from head to toe. Sakusa still looked as stiff as he was when he showed up at the parlor last time when he was in his own store, watering the flowers with this oddly long sprinkler. 

You still felt that to be pretty strange but you were determined that no matter what, you were not walking away from that place emptyhanded.

Surprisingly, he was not as hard to approach as you had thought he might be and he was very helpful when you were overwhelmed by the many pots lining the store, pointing to the bunch of colourful daisies at the far corner when you told him you wanted something that looked delicate.

You started ordering bouquets from Sakusa’s store regularly a while later.

This did not look right. You stared at the black lines on the paper, feeling like your head was about to explode at how you could not point out what was exactly wrong with it but it simply didn’t look like the image you had in your head.

Throwing the pen down, you leaned back against the couch in the front room with an exasperated sigh as you glanced at the hand on the clock that tilted more and more as each second passed.

What happened to delivery at 3pm sharp?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you jumped up at the sound of the door being pushed open and Sakusa walked in with a bouquet of carnation in hand. He was still covered but even without seeing his face, you could tell how he rushed over with the slight heaving in his voice, “there was a... dire situation back at the shop and I had to get that handled before I can make the delivery.

Sakusa shivered as he recalled how there was this customer who kept sneezing while walking around the store. 

“It’s alright,” you said, getting up from the couch where you were laying on, “can you help me put it in the backroom?”

“Of course.”

“Just putting it here would be alright.” you gestured to the small table at the corner and he nodded before putting the ceramic pot down.

From the corner of his eyes, he spotted the last several bouquets and pots you got from him the past week lined up on the shelf at another side of the room.

Sakusa tilted his head. He had regular customers but none that showed up as often as you did and none that bought flowers for no specific reason at all other than to look at them. “Do you like flowers that much?"

He wasn’t sure what it was about the look of pure fascination in your eyes when you looked away from the colourful flowers to face him, but he felt an unexplained antsy feeling rising at the back of his neck.

“I guess it’s not so much of a sentimental liking than just admiration,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “they can be so simple but so detailed all at the same time,” you chuckled, “I find all my best works to be of floral patterns.”

You could not see his face behind the mesh net but you could guess that he was probably squinting his eyes right now with the way his body bent just a little forward. He was interesting to observe, and you had found quite a bit of entertainment in watching him.

“Here,” his eyes widened when you rolled up your sleeves with a laugh. He was wondering how you didn’t seem to have any tattoos on your unlike the other artists who he had met but it seemed like you just didn’t feel as much of a need to put them on display at all times. Under the white sleeves that now rest on your elbow, there were inked lines littering all across your arm, stopping at your wrist and he could only imagine that the vines would go further up into where the faintly see-through fabric was covering.

“This is the first tattoo I ever did on my own,” you said, tilting your arm so that he could see the sunflower on the inside of your wrist, “this is a gift to myself after I finished my apprenticeship.”

“My actual first tattoo though,” you lifted your arm up, showing him the morning glory that peaked out from under your sleeve, hanging on the vines that hugged the side of your arm, “is this one,” you had a look of nostalgia in your eyes like you were greeting an old friend, “I got it the moment I turned 18 without my parents knowing, to remind myself to be resilient like morning glories that climb high even on stone walls.”

He felt like he was invading some sort of precious intimacy that was supposed to be sealed up and savoured when you gently hooked your finger under the collar of your shirt, pulling it to the side just enough for him to see the dots of baby’s breath above your collar like tiny stars.

“But this one is my favourite. I got it because... well...” you poked your tongue out before pushing the folded collar back in place, “I just think it looks nice.”

Sakusa didn’t quite understand what the aesthetic appeal of flowers that you seemed to be so fixated on was. He worked with flowers but they weren’t anything that means much to him unless you count “mortal danger” as a special meaning. But as he watched you fix your shirt, the botanicas on your skin once again hidden from sight by the silky fabric that fell down like morning mist in the market street, he found himself sparing another glance to the flowers he just handed to you and wondered what they would become under your pencil and ink.

“Do you keep all of them around?” he asked, referring to the many different flowers that didn’t look like they go together on the shelf. 

“Sometimes I’ll let clients take away the ones that I already sketched if they like it but I kinda just put them here the rest of the time,” you replied, touching one of the petals of the tulips that were sitting in a vase, “it’s quite a pity that I can’t put them in the front but the manager said it doesn’t fit the rest of the décor.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, even though it’s not like you could see him do so with the cover of the black mesh, and said something that surprised even himself once it was vocalised.

“If what you need is a reference for your sketches, you can always come over and look at the ones we have on display.”

“Really?” you did not hide the sheer excitement you had towards his suggestion, only to back down sheepishly when you realised how eager you were, “But would that be much of a bother to you?”

He was never much of a people person. He had a very carefully selected few close friends around him and he did not intend to broaden his circle any time sooner. He barely even wanted to interact with his customers all that much if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the business, if he was being honest. His palms were starting to feel clammy from the sweat that wasn’t there just earlier, a feeling he very much so dread but the twist in his stomach that he could not begin to understand somehow hazed over this usual discomfort.

“Well, if you are only sitting there and sketching I don’t see that to be much of an issue...” he said, his voice getting tinier and tinier like he was starting to be confused over his own words. 

You walked him out of the parlor with a very, very wide smile that day, thanking him again and again and joking that it was too late for him to take his offer back now because you were going to start annoying him daily. He wanted to argue that you already went around for your flowers often enough that making it a daily occurrence wouldn’t be much of a difference but he bite it back, worried that it would come out harsher than he had meant it and gave you the impression that he actually didn’t want to talk to you.

Which was strange, considering how he never really thought that he actually did want that to happen.

-

You started showing up at his shop every day, as you had said you would. 

At first, your interaction with him was limited to the brief exchange of greetings when you walked into the store, informing the working Sakusa that you would look around yourself and he didn’t need to worry about you. You used to spend so long just standing there and sketch, stretching your neck that was sore from drooping down every once in a while. You said he didn’t need to pay any attention to you but as the owner, he still felt somewhat of a responsibility to show his care about his visitors’ well-being. 

Then you showed up at his place again only to find a little bar stool by the counter.

You looked at the suited man at the side and he looked away from under the mask under your stare. “I got you a chair because you are here for very long each time,” he added under your appreciative stare, “people are gonna get the impression that everyone can just walk in and do the same.”

So you now had your own designated spot in his shop, right by the counter where he worked. 

You started actually chatting to him after then and you liked to think that you two were friends, even though you still didn’t know what he looked like under the bee hat.

Until one day, when you went along the sidewalk of the peaceful street to the flower shop a few blocks away and saw a strange man struggling at the front door.

You froze in place, taking a few steps closer to the walls so he would not notice you too easily.

Who was this? You looked on warily at the lean figure that was shaking the lock on the glass door rather vigorously, seeming to be more and more frustrated with each moment passed. You could not see his face clearly with the dark curls that fell onto the side of his face. He was dressed in full black, black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that only accentuated how long his limbs were. The attire did little to help with your suspicion that he was not there for a proper purpose, seeing how he was starting to shake the handle of the door and let out a tired groan when it stayed closed.

Would it be someone trying to break in? In the middle of the day? Oh god, you felt the blood drain from your face when you realised what this meant.

Sakusa would have a breakdown if some unknowns leave dead skin cells over all his things.

“Um... excuse me?” you gathered up your bravery and walked towards the man, slightly taken back when he snapped around to look at you. He was way taller upfront and you gulped.

To your surprise, he didn’t look shocked when you approached him. In fact, he seemed to have calmed down a little from his earlier irritation with the lock upon seeing you.

“Did I not tell you we are closing early today?” he said, crouching forward slightly.

“Oh, I’m just here to look for a friend...” you paused, your eyes widening when you heard how familiar his voice was, “wait... Sakusa?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, brushing the piece of hair that had fallen onto his face away from his eyes. “Yes?”

You were so prepared to fight whoever it was that might be busting the lock open but you were not prepared for this. You were so used to seeing Sakusa in his full body protection gear that the idea of him being this faceless entity got so comfortable in your head, seeing him as someone with actual facial features and expressions made you feel like you were meeting a whole new person all over again. He was staring at you, bending even forward as he waited for you to say something in confusion. The posture allowed you to take a clearer look at his face, and somehow it sent more adrenaline to your system than the nerves you got from thinking that you were about to witness a crime.

Wait, hold up. Why did no one tell you that he was hot?

From the angle you were at, your eyes immediately caught on to the sharp arch of his eyebrows, the two moles on one side dotted on like ink on white paper. His bone structure was pronounced, the defined curve lining his eyes going down to the tip of his nose. He was looking down at your through his long lashes, his lips pursed as he waited for you to say something.

You felt a slight regret rising in your chest for his face that was wasted away because its owner decided to dress like a b-movie crazy scientist.

“Why are you trying to break into your own store?” you asked, breaking the silence when you realised that you had been staring at him like some dazed fool.

He let out a mumbled groan, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “I forgot my mask at the counter before I left but now the door is doing that thing where it gets stuck and couldn’t turn the key,” he turned back to the door, putting both hands on the handle and yanked.

“Do you need help?” you asked, peaking from behind him.

“Please do,” he sighed and you held onto the frame of the door, “I’ve already been exposed to the air for far too long for-” he gritted his teeth as he gave it another pull.

“My-” a slam on the door pushed the rest of the key that was stuck into the porthole.

“Liking-” 

The door crashed open with a loud bang and you stumbled forward to regain your balance. He sucked in a deep breath when he felt the sweat on his palm, walking as fast as he could to the counter and let out a relieved sigh when he pulled out another one of his white medical masks.

“Why are you closing early today?” you leaned on the counter as you watched him physically relaxed after hooking the cotton band over his ears.

“I’m heading to the flower market today to look for new suppliers,” he said as he pressed down on the wire on the bridge of his nose, “the one we were working with suddenly said they can’t do business anymore because the delivery company refused to send people here which is very strange.”

“I see,” you said, “I was gonna hang around here because I don’t have any more bookings for today, I’ll come back tomorrow then.”

“You can come with me if you want,” he blurted out, his own eyes widening as he paused, “it might be very boring though.”

“Wait, I had never been there before, can I?” you gasped, “I want to go!”

“Ok.” he said rather stiffly, not expecting you to be so excited about what he viewed to be a rather blend thing to do.

He did not know what it was that made goosebumps rose on his arm when you followed him out of the shop, taking a few steps for each on he took just to keep up with him. It was like how it felt when he used to be less careful and got too close to the plants that he worked with, tickling and irritating and made him want to tear his own skin off but not nearly as unpleasant. In fact, he would go as far as to described the feeling as “fuzziness” when you kept talking to him on the way even though he rarely replied with more than a few short sentences.

“Sakusa, can I ask you something?”

Your voice broke him out of his running state of mind.

“Yes?”

“Why do you always wear a full body suit?"

"I'm allergic to flowers.”

“What?” he grimaced at the reaction he had expected, already knowing what you were going to say next.

It was a mistake, Sakusa grumbled to himself as he recounted how his life seemed to be full of mistakes, starting from becoming a florist even though he was highly sensitive to pollen.

“Then how did you become a florist-”

"Please don’t ask.”

“Ok.”

-

“Remember to leave the cover on for the next two hours and wash it with lukewarm water,” you said to your last client with a smile as you opened the door for them, "and just contact us if you need any help with the aftercare.”

You let out a satisfied sigh when they happily waved at you before exiting your sight. There was no better feeling than to see someone being so happy about the piece you did for them. You stretched out your arms, rolling your neck as your back cracked. That took a while, you let out a slight whine when you felt the knot on your shoulder. You found yourself to be the type that emerged themselves into their work completely once started on something which you view to be a good thing but that also meant that your notifications were always blown up every time you did a slightly bigger, more detailed piece.

You recalled your phone to buzz non-stop during the appointment until you got annoyed and turned off the sound completely. Taking it out of your pocket, you took one of your gloves off to unlock your screen.

Your eyes widened at the amount of miscalls and messages that came from Sakusa, who had given you his number after you annoyed him into saving yours. He rarely called you, you were always the one spamming his inbox when he was trying to put you on read.

You had a bad feeling about what had happened when you saw another incoming call from the man who had been bombing your phone.

“Hello-”

“Come over.”

“What?” you said. His voice was pressed down even lower than usual and you clutched your phone closer to your face to hear him clearly. 

“Please just... come over. Come over quick.” he hissed.

“What is going on? Sakusa are you ok?” you felt the panic building up in your chest at the tone he used. 

“I am facing a critical situation and you’re the only help I can get-”

“Ok,” you didn’t wait for him to finish before hastily pushing the door to the street and paced to the direction of the flower shop, “I’m coming over now.”

“Thank you,” he let out a shaky breath, “and please be quick.”

You nearly went over the front door of the shop with how much of a rush you were in. Looking in through the window, the shop was completely empty and you could not even find Sakusa anywhere.

Oh god, what was it that got him in such a crunch?

“Hello?” you asked gingerly as you stepped inside, "Is anyone here? Sakusa?”

There was no one in there. You furrowed your eyebrows as you walked deeper into the stores and past the vases that lined up at the sides.

“Psst..”

You snapped towards where the sound came from.

“Sakusa- ah!” you yelped when you were suddenly yanked down to the floor. You blinked when you saw who it was that suddenly pulled you behind the counter.

“Sakusa, why are you hiding under here?”

You felt bad for finding the very tall, very well-built Sakusa who was once again wrapped up in his plastic suit all curled up under the counter, even more so when you saw that he was actually sitting on a plastic sheet instead of on the bare ground. 

Even if he was finding somewhere to hide, he still uphold his principals.

“There’s this...” he shivered, “thing out there crawling around...”

“Thing? Crawling?” you tilted your head as you looked out, “I didn’t see anything?”

“Well of course you don’t. They are fast and tiny and black and...” he shivered again, shaking his head a little as if trying to shake away his thoughts.

“Fast and tiny and black...” you paused, “you mean a cockroach-”

“Do not say it out loud,” he gritted.

“I’m sorry for saying this but thank god,” you let out a deep breath, “I thought you were being held at gun point or something...”

“How is this any better?” he asked in disbelief, “please help me get rid of it..."

“Sakusa I’m not gonna be your personal bug killer-”

“Before I burn this place down-”

“Ok,” you said with your hands thrown up, telling him to stay put and hold back from doing any property damage. You sighed as you stood up, “Thank god I rushed out in such a hurry that I still have my gloves with me...”

Sakusa finally knew what that burning irritation he felt whenever you gush at him was when he peeked from behind the counter to see you swiftly trapping the cockroach under a plastic bag and swept it up with your gloved hands before taking it out to the street. He felt a rapid rhythm drumming in his chest when he heard a loud stomp from outside, his black eyes following your frame when you came back in with a sigh as you skillfully removed your gloves from inside out and tied them together.

“Um...” he felt the slightest bit uneased as he climbed out from his hiding spot, suddenly feeling small even though he was clearly towering over you, “thanks.”

“It’s alright,” you said with a chuckle, “can’t have you dying on me like that.”

He had never been glad about his allergies until now, feeling just a little bit more self-assured because even though his mind was in shambles from the sudden realisation he had, at least he had the mask to hide his face that he was sure to be flushed from you.

“Do you need help sanitising everything?”

"What?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Well,” you said matter-of-factly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I assume you won’t just let it be after that co- that thing got in here?”

“Yeah," he stood up just a little straighter, “yeah, of course.”

Sakusa felt an unexplained taste in his mouth. It was a bit bitter, the dryness making his jaw clenched but he also couldn’t help the muscle at the corner of his mouth from inching up higher and higher as he watched you scrubbing the counter with a cleaning wipe, your forehead crinkling up in concentration

He was so, so in love.

-

You dropped everything at hand and ran out the door when you got his message.

“Can you come over?”

What was it? What was it this time? 

You ignored the bewildered glances from the passersby as you dashed along the otherwise serene street. 

Was it a bug? Did someone sneeze near him? Did some idiot broke the vases and got muddy water on him again? There’s no way that could happen twice in a week, right? Right?

You were heaving by the time you got to his place, nearly tripping into the shop as you tried to collect your breath. Sakusa was standing in front of the counter and facing the door, oddly without his usual bee hat. He felt his stomach twisting in knots as you held yourself up by the door with one hand and the other clutching your chest as you panted.

He did not expect you to show up so quickly. He had thought that he would have some more time to collect himself after pressing “send” with his shaking hands so he could look, well, somewhat cooler doing what he planned to do after a lot of inner conflicts.

“Ok, I’m here,” your hair was a mess as you looked up, your chest still heaving from the run, “what is it? What happened? What do I need to do?”

“Um...”

“Oh god, why aren’t you talking? how bad is it?” you said as you slowly straightened your posture, only to feel your breath hitched when you saw why he was in silence.

Sakusa seemed to be in clear discomfort, his eyes shifting around as his throat bobbed. But it wasn’t his usual look of wariness or discontent and instead, he seemed to be nervous.

And then you saw the bunch of red roses he was holding in hand.

“You know,” he gulped, holding his arm out as stretched out as he could, “a dozen roses means ‘be mine’ in flower language.”

You blinked, your eyes slowly widening as he looked away.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you licked your lips, a grin finding it’s way to your face, “are you trying to say something?”

“I said,” he gritted from his teeth, his face burning up under your teasing tone, “be mine.”

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, your face aching from the smile that was only growing wider. In your ear, you could hear the steady drumming tapping at you, sending the signal everywhere in your body as you felt the warmth that spread together with it.

Say yes, say yes, say yes...

“Of course.”

He let out a hitched breath as his shoulders drooped, pouting a little when he looked back at you as if he was blaming you for poking fun at him earlier.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the look of resentment only grew when you started giggling, “but you were so cute just then, I couldn’t help myself.”

He grumbled and your giggling turned into actual laughs while he glared at you but couldn’t hide the blush on his face.

“It doesn’t matter as long as I say yes, right?” 

"Sure,” he let out a soft tsk, “but can you please take this?”

“Is that really the way to go at it-”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, oh,” you said when you suddenly remembered his allergy and rushed to take the roses from him, “of course, of course...”

If you take a turn at the first corner of the bustling shopping district, you would find yourself in the quieter, older parts of the area. There was a quaint little flower shop hidden away from the noisy crowd and a tattoo parlor a few blocks away, but you already knew that. You also knew that as bewildering as it sounded, the florist that run the shop was actually deadly allergic to flowers.

But what you didn’t know (or at least pretend not to so he wouldn’t feel too embarrassed) was that for you, the tattoo artist who loved flowers, the florist who was allergic to flowers wouldn’t mind taking off his plastic suit and hand deliver fresh flowers to you every day just to see you smile.

-

Bonus

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” Sakusa said with a deadpan face as he sat on the chair.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he replied, even though his entire body was tensed up.

“Ok,” you said, leaning closer to him, “promise me you won’t regret this.”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you said in a breathy tone, gulping as you placed you held the edge of the tattoo chair for leverage, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Ok.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your boyfriend who had his eyes pressed tightly together as you lifted your hand.

His eyes snapped open at the light peck you placed on his lips.

Look, look. This might seem dramatic but this was a huge step for him, alright?

You blinked, nervous about what he might be thinking, “how was it?”

He seemed to be dazed, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes that were fixed on him.

Nothing could stop the surprised gasp you let out when he suddenly latched onto you and kissed you much more firmly, not letting you move away with his hand at the back of your head.

Your breathing was rapid when he finally let you go, your face heating up when he poked his tongue out and swiped it along his bottom lip.

“I think I might actually like this more than I thought I would.”

[theharellan]

Written for Stories of Thedas Volume II. Pairing: Solas & Cole (platonic) Prompt: Library

Masks upon masks. The Winter Palace is strange to Cole, who attends at the Inquisitor's bidding and finds himself at a loss for how to help. Solas comes upon him with ideas for how to cope with the deadly Game.

Read on AO3.

Couples spin on the dance floor, turning and turning, going nowhere and everywhere at once. Their heads fill with daydreams, one gazes into her partner’s eyes through their masks, imagining the hidden corners they could lose themselves in. Another, all he sees is the faint outline of a knife in his companion’s skirts, so all-consuming he almost forgets the steps. A third, their eyes bore holes into the other’s heads, hate springs from love eternal. His eyes dart from one couple to the next, glimpses into minds fraught with thoughts of a Game no one ever really wins.

He breathes in and feels the air catch in his throat. Honeyed words mask the taste of poison, cold compassion, they understand only so they can hurt. It isn’t right, it isn’t fair, it isn’t–

In the blink of an eye he’s in the library, surrounded by pages that whisper the words of yesterday. Not so sharp against his skin. Below, a dead man in the shape of a Warden pretends to stare at a plaque, praying no one will look at him twice, fearing they might see his valourous wings are clipped. It’s still a hurt, a tangle, but he’s trying to help. Cruelty does not become him. He lets out a breath he forgot he was holding, hands coming together to pull at his sleeves.

Oh.

He had forgotten about the uniform. The fabric doesn’t come away at his touch, no matter how hard he tugs.

And he misses his hat.

Cole wonders how long he will wait here, alone with his panic clawing at his throat. In the Spire he spent months isolated, forgotten by all save the one who no longer cares to know him. Suddenly the soft, inviting lights which illuminate the halls of the Winter Palace seem as cold as the dark cells they had kept Rhys in, clapped in irons for crimes Cole committed. Anxiety squeezes every inch of him. He counts the beats of the music that drifts from the distant dance hall, just to assure himself only minutes have passed since he came here.

A door opens behind him, and he nearly jumps into shadow, the Veil waiting to envelop him, drawing him from prying eyes, but a familiar face waits on the other side. “Solas!” he gasps, relieved and ashamed that he had doubted, but grateful most of all.

Solas shuts the door behind him, turning the handle so the latch doesn’t make a sound. “I thought I might find you here.”

That gives Cole pause. He hadn’t known he would find himself here, until it happened. “But I don’t read.” The books here are newer than those kept in the Pit, some hum with the occult, others recount poems about the shape of a woman’s hips, but he still doesn’t read. There isn’t a question in his tone, but Solas hears it, all the same.

“This place can be overwhelming for anyone, even without accounting for your abilities. Books carry meaning, but without eyes upon them those meanings are static. Far easier to take in,” he answers as he walks towards him, gait stiffer than usual. His feet had forgotten what it was like to wear shoes. Solas has been quiet that evening, quieter than usual, the stem of a glass glued between his fingers, bottomless. He lets his hat do his talking for him, the Drasca’s dissent lived on atop his head. He stops beside Cole, leaning upon the marble rail, gloved hands bearing weight. His eyes turn upon him, no brimmed hat to hide behind. “Are you all right?”

He pulls on his sleeves, this time he thinks he feels a thread come loose. “Yes... No? There are two faces for every person.” The Left Hand smiles and laughs, she comes alive, but inside it’s cold and cruel. The rose withers upon the vine. He finds the thread with his finger and pulls, but it doesn’t break. It unravels, further and further, if he keeps going his whole sleeve will be an unspooled mess on the floor. “I don’t know which to look at. I-I don’t know how to help.”

Solas reaches out, subduing his worrying hands with a single, steady touch. A gentle gesture, despite the blood which stains them. Sometimes they do not seem so different from his own, they remember the bodies because forgetting would be worse. Killer’s hands, but there is no deceit in their tenderness. Solas wraps the thread around his finger, string bright white against his brown glove, and he tugs. It snaps, suddenly brittle, and falls to the floor to be swept away by a servant who will never know they were here. A comforting hand is placed deliberately on his shoulder blade, and Cole stills. He inhales, eyes snapping from the abandoned thread to Solas. There is kindness in his eyes, quiet assurance. He has seen this all before and he will make it easier to bear. So many tricks just to make it through a day, an evening, an hour. “You will not find much compassion in these affairs, any help you offer will be perceived as duplicitous, a means to get what it is you desire.”

“Then I… shouldn’t help?”

He hesitates, delaying his answer with a moment’s deliberation. “The choice is ultimately yours, but their comfort should not come at the cost of your peace of mind.” His hand slowly falls from his back as Cole turns his advice around in his head. “While we are waiting for the Inquisitor to call upon us, rather than mend the missing pieces in strangers’ lives, perhaps I may help you.”

“Help me?” He searches Solas’ eyes for answers, compassion seeking solace in pride. They are quiet, revealing only as much as intended. Cole chips at the cracks in the rock and hopes for water to spring forth, but he guards his sorrows like a wolf guards her den.

“Would you care to learn how to dance?”

A dozen thoughts pile into the spirit’s head, most too quick to catch, but he grasps one by the tail. “Do spirits dance?”

Solas claims spirits are people, and each day that belief is realer in Cole’s own mind, reinforced by the Herald and Solas himself. He need not change to be loved, or understood, he need only be himself. But if he is a person, then he is not a person the way Varric is, or Cassandra, or even Solas. There’s a touch of sadness in the corner of his smile, as though he is sorry the question needs to be asked. “I suppose it falls to us to answer together,” he replies patiently with an offered palm.

Uncertain how it will help, but ready to trust that it can, he takes Solas’ hand.

“Listen closely,” he says, but he declines to speak again. Cole’s instruction takes a different turn, a manicured glimpse through a window into Solas’ soul.

“Delicate hand folded like a paper crane between my shoulders, her eyes shine like the gold she deals in when I take to the dance.” Josephine had poured so much into tonight, all her smiles and favours, anything that will see the Inquisition prevail. “She didn’t think you would be asked to dance, but she was afraid if you didn’t learn, someone would.”

“Her time was likely better spent elsewhere,” he agrees, “though nothing would have given me more pleasure tonight than refusing one of Celene’s court. Listen again, parse the thoughts which cloud the memory and see how we move.” Cole nods, and concentrates. He remembers the palm tucked in the valley between Solas’ shoulders, and he moves his there. His feet, too, he moves in line with his hips. It’s strange, focusing upon his own body and the space it takes up in the world. Lighter now that he has chosen compassion, but still very much real, empty only in the seconds the air rushes from the chambers of his lungs.

He feels eyes upon him, questioning, searching for confirmation before the music dares move them. “I’m ready.”

When Solas steps forward, Cole steps back, like they’re two puppets on the same musical string. He clips his strides, travelling farther faster than Solas can hope to without magic to carry him there. Awkward at first, but with each beat he feels him join with the dance that exists in his head. Old melodies, half-remembered, play in distant memories. Like the sky he knew it, once, but made himself forget. Dancing wasn’t always this way, was it?

Solas remembers. Feet too full of motion to keep his thoughts safe in his head, they spill onto the fabric of the world where Cole breathes them like his own. Memories of moving on a dancefloor to a familiar tune, swaying with the stars themselves, spinning until they parted from the earth. He swells with pride, a beast alive beneath his ribcage, it thrives and fights and inspires. When they dance the heavens and the earth move, and an empire holds its breath. It fears what dread the dawn will bring, but his People find freedom in the impromptu steps.

“What are you two doing here?” A voice snaps the string. Halamshiral looks different than it did heartbeats ago, all the magic hidden in dark corners (all the elves, too). When Cole turns to see the servant who disturbed them, he’s surprised to see a bare face behind her plain mask, and a second later cannot recall why.

With silver eyes she stares at him, unblinking. “She can see me.”

“A consequence of our dance, I believe.” Yes, he can feel it. Solas fades with each passing second, growing distant as his hand falls from his waist. “It will fade in a moment.” He speaks as though she is not there, but he’s waiting. It’s another dance, only it’s Cole’s turn to lead.

Cut loose, he turns his attention to the woman. Fear flows through her veins, the dagger beneath her sleeve is ready to open theirs. Beneath the steel, her heart wavers. Stranded between duty and love. “I’m warning you-”

“There’s still time,” he says. “She waits for you beside the fountain where you wished away Your Lady’s collection.” There were wiser things to do with gold, but oh how they’d laughed with every dream plunged into the water.

Cole steps forward and she braces, but not fast enough. “Forget.”

Time is unmade behind her eyes, and she slips the mask from her face to rub the last place she’d been kissed. Gone as quickly as she came, with new purpose in her step.

“It seems you found a way to help someone, after all,” Solas remarks after the library door has shut behind her. “You never fail to impress.”

Something in him shines brighter, bolstered by his pride. “Thank you.” He falters, looking down at his feet, curling his toes inside their boots. “I’d like to try another dance, if you think there’s time.”

A laugh coloured wine red parts Solas’ lips, punctuated by a snort that makes Blackwall down below look around for its source. “I believe there is time for one more,” he says, outstretched palm seeking Cole’s hand. “Since you have devised a way to put off intruders, I daresay we have all the time in the world.”

It isn’t a lie, but neither is it true. Like the golden caprice coins that shine beneath the lovers’ reunion, Solas’ words glow like wishes.

[cherripeach]

Chapter 2

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is "I have the power of god and anime on my side, don't mess with me," and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it. 

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it.Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Prologue 3-5: I wanna take a nap

Chapter Summary: Was everyone in this school an evil bratty child or was it just you?

Warnings: jokes about death(I think) and committing crimes and curse words, some sex jokes (but not the bad ones; middle school boys comments and stuff)

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: Pending twst x reader

Two boys-you assumed-were chasing after the cat, and while neither of them seemed to be very athletic,  the cat really was not either. The cat kept bumping into its own fire and having to turn away, or trying to blast fire at the two chasing him and almost tripping both himself and the other two boys. The cat did end up getting chased into a corner after almost tripping the two boys, and the smaller of the two raised up a pen or pencil looking object and screamed the words “Off with your head.” The only thing that passed through your mind was that you need to get out of here.

After the boy screamed, a red light appeared from the top of the pen and was soon directed straight toward the cat. The cat horror-struck backed up as far as he could and even climbed a few inches up the wall to move away from the beam of light heading toward it. The beam smacked the cat into the wall and caused him to fall from his position onto his butt and falter in any movement. Once the light cleared, there was an obvious difference in the cat’s appearance. A red and white collar had shown up around his neck, and the cat still dazed to notice it screamed out, “Nughab! The heck is this thing?”

You mumbled out, “Kinky…”

“Law of the Queen of Hearts Number 23: ‘One shall never bring a cat into a festival.’ You being a cat means you’ve broken the rule. I shall have you leave at once,” Here we have another member of the crowd who also thought the creature was a cat, but apparently, this disappointed child also has the numbers of the rules for something memorized, and that threw you off. He straightened himself once he noticed that the cat was caught within the collar and put his pen away in his coat that you just noticed everyone was wearing.

You surveyed yourself to see what you were wearing and realized that it was the same thing, only leading your mind to one conclusion: “This has to be some kind of cult…”  you mumbled the phrase so that anyone close by could not question your thought process, but this school and world just happened to get worse and weirder the more you looked around.

“...I'ma burn this collar right up and... ehhh I can’t use my fire!” You caught the rest of the cat’s declaration, and both him and you were in absolute awe for what the collar had apparently accomplished.

“Hmph!” The disappointed child straightened his back even more and tilted his face up toward the ceiling a little, “You won’t be using any magic until I remove the collar. Just like an ordinary cat”.

“Whh-what? I’m not some pet!” The cat was having none of it. He was clawing at the collar on his neck and pulling it as much as he could just sitting in place next to the wall in his time out corner.

“Don’t worry, I’d never keep a pet like you,” the kid really just can’t help himself can he, “I’ll take it off anyway when you get thrown out.” He turned away from the cat and began to walk back to the center of the room where the sus headmaster in the top hat who for a weird second kinda reminded you of Willy Wonka stood and fumed over the past events.

Once the kid began walking, the other male chasing the cat spoke up, “Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic gets sealed by your Unique Magic, Riddle,” the male even threw his arms out to match his display of amazement only to pull them pack in a second later to place one hand on his chin while the other held his elbow to his chest to allow the male to mutter some words to himself. The taller male then pivoted around and sauntered to follow the smaller male. Both of them held this formal air covered in arrogance, and you wanted nothing to do with either of them.

The end of their conversation must have halted the top hat headmaster because he straightened himself up and glanced at the crowd only pausing his eye movement when they reached you. He kept both of his eyes on you while he strode over to your wall. Your day could apparently get worse.

“You must do something about this! It is your familiar!” the man made hand gestures to point at you in his furry, and you decided that maybe now is the time you should speak up.

“Sir, with all due respect, stop assuming things,” this man was worse than some teenagers and teachers you have met, so you shut him up, “Please tell me when I told you that he was my familiar,” your flicked your hands and continued, “whatever that is, because I am clearly lost.”

“So it’s not yours?” The man put his hand to his chin and closed his eyes either to calm himself down or figure everything out.

“Yep. Never seen it before it asked me to strip” Please let this man listen for once.

“Ah, um You did.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, let's get it out of the school. We won't turn you into a stew. For I am gracious. Someone help, please.”

Several of the students crowded around the cat until finally two came out holding the cat who was yelling the entire time. He was a little too desperate to just stay in this school.

You broke off from the masked man’s lecture for a second until another voice joined the conversation.

“That’s not different from usual, is it?” You were lost as one of the taller of the five males from earlier spoke up. He was a half furry, but you had no clue what that was called again and you would rather not know.

“What?” The sun graced everyone with its presence, “Did nobody tell him about the ceremony?” His features turned into a sorrowful, sour look from his normal bright and upbeat feature; he even glanced around at all of the others who surrounded the masked male. You noticed that all of them were the five from earlier, not including the tablet.

“If you are going to complain, you should’ve done it yourself.” Another one of the tall gang of the five males spoke up; however, this one was the exact opposite of the half furry. He was incredibly put together and more breathtaking than anyone you have ever been in the same room in. The male must be the ruler of self care, even if he did give you arrogant vibes.

“Hmm. But I don’t really know anything about the guy.” The sun appeared guilty at his statement.

The people which you forgot about broke out into chatter about a man who was named something like ‘Malaus Drakconia’ or something like that, but you had no clue who he actually was or how to actually spell his name. All of the chatter stopped when another male, much smaller than most of the five males, strolled into the room through the double doors.

“I was correct. I thought he might come but ‘Malaus’ really didn't. It seems the invitation "never arrived" again.” The small male shook his head and sighed gently after entering the room.

The males in the middle all exchanged glances before two emerged: the two from before; the ones that were chasing after the cat.

“My deepest apologies. I promise, we didn't intend to exclude you.” The taller male closed his eyes and appeared apologetic.

“His aura makes it hard to approach him,” The shorter male just can’t stop himself.

You just had to butt in because no one was taking this seriously; you walked up from your wall to meet with the group in the middle, “Yo, dude that’s really not right. I mean what has he ever done wrong to ya?” Some teenagers just weren’t for you, and so you apologized to the new face that entered. “Tell the dude he has my condolences or something.”

The short new face just stared through your soul for the next couple of minutes, not blinking, but he finally did cough and twist away from you to face a group of students. “It’s not your fault child, but it is all right.” He took about three steps. “Members of the Diasomnia Dormitory can come with me… I hope this doesn't upset him.”

You in your brilliance decided to cup your mouth and scream out to the male leading the first group out, “Tell the dude that if he needs someone to talk to, I’m freeee! I hope he feels better!”

You even heard a slight chuckle from the group. And slowly all the groups left; most making eye contact with you, but you just carried on trying to think of how expensive the clothes you had one were; you rubbed the sleeve and found out that they were made of a fabric resembling silk.

Crowley, from what you remembered, sauntered up to you once the room was clear and both of you began to conjure in your head and make a conversation about what was going to happen:

“While I normally would have you leave this school, I do not know where you are from. Would you mind stepping up to the mirror to find out. There is no need to worry. The Dark Mirror will send you directly back from whence you came. Enter the Gate, and picture your home clearly in your mind... “ The male pushed you to the mirror again, and you thought of your home for as long as you could. You even heard him mumble words back and forth with the mirror when you were lost in thought.

However, a surprised noise came out of the man’s mouth and your mind buffered to process everything because both Crowley’s and the mirror’s gaze, if you would even call it that, were stuck on you.

“This is the first time this has ever happened since I became headmaster, what should I do?” You held contact with his weird mask eyes for as long as you could before you swerved your gaze to the mirror. “Are you positive that is where you are from? And that you have never heard of Twisted Wonderland, Night Raven College, anything?” He was moving closer to you at an extremely fast rate causing you to discreetly walk back to your wall.

“Yeah, sir, why would I ever lie about that? All of this seems like a weird movie for me.” You just could not believe how little this “headmaster” or whatever believed you.

“Our best option is to go to the Library and do some research. Come and join me.”  Headmaster Crowley twirled around making his cloak follow his mystical movements like some fairy or evil villain and started to make his way out of the room.

You just as confused as before followed after him, wondering if anything in this world would ever make sense.

~~~~

After around an hour of scouring through books in the odd library you were in earlier, you and the headmaster both decided to take a break.

“Can you please believe me now?” You slumped in a chair and groaned as loud as you could for as late as it was and even massaged your forehead, just hoping the man would get your point.

“You are correct. There is nothing about your hometown anywhere…” The male halted his speech and glanced back at the books, “There is also a possibility you are from another world.”

“What a nice thing to say to the tired, lost teenager,” and you stopped your speech to turn to him and point at him, “That you are in charge of.” You could not believe this man, and so you deflated while he carried on with his speech.

“Did you have anything on you when you came here?”

You just shook your head and rolled your eyes out of his view.

“Do you have any identification, like a license for a magic car, name on a shoe... You appear to be empty-handed?”

Another shake and a hand placed back on your forehead, and you noticed that he was probably going to go back into one of his speeches when he stood up taller and paused speaking for a second.

“This is concerning…..My graciousness is limitless! I am a model for all educators.We had better be on our way. Let's head to the dormitory. It may be a bit old but there is a certain charm to it.” Apparently, you were going to stay in a dormitory. Always a new surprise with this man.

And you two were off again through the halls and outside to your new stay in this world, but from how terrible the place was on the outside, this was not a luxury resort.

It was a four or more story house accompanied by a broken gate guarding the house, spider webs on all of the molded dead trees, broken shutters, even broken window, and to top it off just an overall haunted vibe to the place. This was where smart, sane people in life would avoid; this was just the trap for those characters in haunted movies, and you were just hoping to find a peaceful place to sleep in it tonight.

Crowley must have caught your staring at the dorm and ushered you inside, “Right, right. Please come inside.”

You can confidently say that the inside of the dorm was incredibly worse than the outside; the streets might be a better option if you took into account all of the health hazards in just this room alone.

Crowley did not seem to agree, “Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain.”

You hoped to interject, “Isn’t there somewhere el-”

“I'm going back to do more research. Make yourselves at home. Don't go wandering around the school! Goodbye!” This man was going to be the death of you or the reason you commit murder.

The lounge area was terrible: almost everything was broken and covered in dust, including the walls, ceiling, and floor. This area was not fit for a person to live in, and even if you tried your best it might never be.

But of course with your luck streak, Crowley saying that it would rain had to come true. “Are you kidding me now!” You threw your hands up in the air and then grabbed your head and tried not to commit arson.  “Nothing is ever going to go my way here, will it?”

Thunderstruck.

“At least you are on my side…” You gazed out the cracked window expecting it to break soon.

The thunderstorm caused more problems in your new dorm than it should have. The building would shake, as would the windows, and it allowed more damage than before. However, it appears that you are not alone with a caterwaul screech from behind you.

“Hyyyi! It’s really coming down!” And located on your broken couch was the cat from before. He was apparently a gift from someone, who probably was laughing at you, for you with how often he was popping up.

“What are you doing here?” You probed in an apathetic tone as you both deadpanned and glared at the cat.

“Gyhaha! You've got this stupid look on your face like a spider being attacked by a water gun! I'll have no trouble sneaking back into school. Come on, come on. If you think getting thrown out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you've got another thing coming!” The cat gabbed just as long as the headmaster.

Your day could somehow get worse, “Honestly, I don’t care. Please don’t cause problems or I’ll kick you out.”

“Hmph. You wouldn’t understand, but I’m a genius who is destined to be a great magician! I've been waiting for the Ebony Carriage to come pick me up. But... But...Hmph! The Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this.So that's why I came here on my own. Not letting me in would be a loss for the world, humans just don't get it.” This cat might be annoying, but the sob story does make you pity him a little. That is if he started acting kinder and not like an annoying pretentious kid.

Now that you look at him, he resembled a small child disappointed that they did not get what they wanted, but you had sympathy for him. He never mentioned a family or had anyone who cared about around him. He seemed lonely. He wanted to get into school which honestly you don’t know why anyone would want to go to school, but people had their priorities.

A water droplet hit the cat, “Nyaa! So cold! The roof is leaking!”

Another drop.

“Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!” He pulled down his ears closer to his eyes and met your gaze.

“Fine, fine. I’ll get a bucket..” You uttered going to look around the building and ignored any more retorts the cat came up with.

You exited the living room and entered a hallway with a flight of stairs going up, and the rest of the house mirrored the living room and outside by how disgusting and hazardous it is. There was even a gigantic spider web spreading the top of the hallway, and the wallpaper was coming off and covered in mold.

“This is a great time for the first kill in a horror movie,” in this situation talking to yourself helped calm you down.

That is until three ghosts appear. All of different sizes and heights, and they look incredibly familiar like from a movie or something.

“Hihihihi…. Ihihihihi…We haven't had a guest in so long...I'm itching for some action. Ihihihihi!” Frozen in your spot, you watched as the ghosts chuckled and floated closer to you.

“Um, sorry, but like…. What?”  You became more disoriented as the day went on., and this topped the cake.

The cat was not on your wavelength and followed you out of the living room and into the hallway only to freeze at the sight of the three ghosts.  

“Gyaaaaaaaa!!!! G-g-g-g-ghoooooooooooootts!!” The cat bawled before he darted to cling onto your cloak.

The shortest ghost found amusement out of the cat’s reaction, “The people living here got scared of us and left…”

So did the largest ghost, “We’ve  been looking for more ghost pals. How about you guys?”

“Dudesss, chill down. We are not here to hurt you.” You tried to placate both the ghosts and the cat clinging onto you, but nothing ever went your way.

The cat leaped out from behind you looking as ferocious as a duckling, “Grim, the Great Magician, isn't scared of some ghosts!!!” and blew fire at the wall, “Punahhh ~ ~ ~ nnn!!”

The ghosts were having fun with the cat as the tall one asked “Where are you aiming?” and the largest one ran around the hallway area chanting “Over here, over here!”

Apparently Grim-the cat- was actually taking this seriously or did not like getting teased, “Shoot! Stop disappearing!” He continued to blast fire in all directions, most not even where the ghosts were.

You were not going to put up with his attitude so you made a deal with him wanting him to either shut up or do his job right, “Grim or whatever, either you get a move on and listen to me or I’ll tell the headmaster that you are here so that a red collar can be placed on you again and get you kicked out on the streets.”

“Ughhhh, buttt.. I’m a genius.” Grim ran around the area but paused as another ghost came up behind him. “Bunch of cowards ganging up on us! Fine,” Grim circled around to face you, “tell me where the ghosts are!”

“To your left!” Helping Grim would never be easy, but you somehow made it work.

“I hit it! Alright, let’s get them all outta here!” Like a child, he bounced over the fact that he did something right.

And like a child you could not wait to take a nap. 

~~~~~

um like exams such so there was that, but thanks for reading and I hope you have a nice day! Next chapter should be out around Monday or so.. maybe. 

[myromars]

Hey I wrote an sbi au/fic

It would be cool if you checked it out, I guess... it's my first time posting my writing publicly and it's not very good but uh. Yeah. Enjoy I guess- I might end up making this an au or smth idk (also in the beginning, they committed arson so they're running away aha) sorry if it's confusing absbjdnd (story under the cut) also the pig mask techno has is kinda based off of @thechannelwithoutaname techno design hehe

He needs to move. He needs to get out, quick. Before anyone finds out, before they notice who caused it, before they hunt him down.

But then, the blood god hears the sound. Of crying. Sobbing. Tears running down your face, runny-nose, pure agony, red-faced, stifled breathing, pure crying. The kind that makes your heart drop and your soul yearn, the kind that makes you feel.

He looks at the boy to his left, his arsonist-in-crime. Wilbur. They exchange glances, and The blade stops running. He slows. He turns. He walks. Towards the sobbing, towards Tommy. And Wilbur Soot follows, because they go hand in hand. The music boy and the blade. The blade and the music boy.

They reach the devastated boy. He's huddled up under a tree, wearing a tattered white and red shirt, his blonde hair a mess. "Are you okay?" Wilbur asks.

"Wh- does it look like I'm okay?" The child demands. It manages to come across as snappy, despite the despair evident on his face.

"No, you look terrible. What's your name?" The blood god takes off his mask. It's a pig skull, cleaned enough so it didn't smell, and altered to fit his face.

"Tommy. And yours?" Tommy looks up at the two. He wipes the tears off his face as best as he can.

"He's Techno, I'm Wilbur. What's wrong?"

"Norhings wrong big man, leave me alone." Tommy huffs.

"Eh, I dunno, you sounded pretty bad." Techno glances around them. He's accustomed to staying on his feet, always on the lookout.

"Shut up! Philza said I'd be alright. And what's with the weird skull anyway?" Thomas stands up, crossing his arms. He's pretty tall, not as tall as Wilbur, but taller than one would think due to his posture.

"It's a mask. Privacy?" The blade murmurs, an old memory awakening.

The god remembered the name Philza. Phil. The hardcore survivor. 5 years in the dreaded realm. It was almost mesmerizing, seeing the man walk through the portal after so much time. Phil wore a green and white bucket hat, a souvenir, as he called it, from the hardcore realm. Philza. Technoblade knew Philza.

In the background, Wilbur and Tommy talk. They speak of great adventures, wars, and more. Techno turns back to reality. "So. Philza, huh?" He stares at the child.

"Yeah, and he- he's cooler than you. He is, he is." Tommy replies, nodding to himself.

"Hm. Let's go, I think I can find Phil when we go somewhere we won't get caught." Techno offers a hand to the no longer crying boy.

"Fine. But I'm telling Philza you kidnapped me if we don't find him or Tubbo." Tommy ignored the hand, breezing past it. "Where are we headed?"

"To Pogtopia. We'll call Phil when we get there." Wilbur says, looking to Techno to confirm. The blood god nods, and they start to run. The pig mask slides back on, and the newfound friends head to Pogtopia. To freedom. To Philza and Tubbo. To anarchy. To peace... Together, with the fire burning behind them.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #462

i am way too tired to mentally flip through lyrics to put here, rip

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) I have zero idea. When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? The last time I visited Sara in Illinois. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I think I got purple highlights? What was the first social media site you ever used? MySpace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? One. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Sara's house is lovely. Have you ever been catcalled? No. Are you allergic to any dogs? I might be. Have you ever touched a plant and had hives shoot up your arm? No. Do you think dragonflies are cool? Absolutely! What’s your favorite thing to draw? Meerkats!! Did you toss your hat in the air at graduation? Not high. I wanted to keep it. Do you like fudge? I CAN FUCKING DESTROY SOME FUDGE. Are you an affectionate person? Very. Name something you have to do today: Girt and I are hangin', making fun of bad Netflix anime and going to Buffalo Wild Wings. :^) Would you ever write to a death row inmate? No. People don't get on death row for no reason. I ain't got shit to say to them. Do you reckon online friendships are real? No fucking shit. Most of my most genuine friendships began online. Do you like Slipknot? Yep. Can we talk about how fuckin BADASS Corey's new mask is btw?????????? What do you think of Gorillaz? I like "Feel Good Inc." and one other song I can't remember the name of. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? BOTH!!!!! :') What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? GUYS I recently saw a picture of a little baby dressed up as a Little Oogie Boogie and it made my ovaries cry. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Jesus, Girt is a giant. I don't know about my shortest... If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you choose? Pastel pink. :') What has been the best night of your life so far? Why? Probably something sexual so let's keep it on the down low lmfaooo Would you ever even think about taking part in a wet t-shirt contest? Uh, no. Even if I WAS confident in my body. Is you hair color the same as it was when you were a baby? No. It was dirty blonde. Have you ever been in trouble for being too loud? Ha, yeah, at school with friends. Not big trouble or anything, we were just hushed. Did you ever attend a wedding that was a complete disaster? No. What is something that you were surprised you were able to do? Hm. What is the most bullshit-sounding true fact that you know? Male cats have spiked penises lkasdjfal;kje;kjwr it's something to do with preventing other tomcats from mating with her. What Oreo flavor is your favorite? Gimme that Double Stuffed, friend. Sour gummy worms or plain gummy worms? SOUR. Ever been in a talent show? How many times? What did you do? Nope. Ever try out for the talent show and not make it? Did you cry? Nope. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? Y'all when I was a very little kid, during my older sister's b-day party, I sobbed because I couldn't pin the tail properly on the donkey lmaoooo How do you feel about the use of nuclear weapons? Absolutely fucking barbaric. What song has the most meaning to you? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus!!!! :') Have you ever made bread? No. Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Pets, a baby I was watching after, and Jason. Ever been dominated in a game you were/are really good at? yep alskdjfla;jwej Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? Wild animal, I guess? Have you ever listened to a group of chanting monks? I haven't. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Probably of Teddy. I've still yet to decide on the total design of his tribute tat I'm getting. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? I think so, yeah. How mad would you be if someone copied your original work (story, poem)? I'd be pretty fuckin pissed. Have you ever blown something up in science class? Ha, no. Have you ever gotten a serious wound from shaving? Not serious, no. Have you invented anything, only to find out it actually exists? I feel like I have? Ever realize you never truly LOVED your first love? Absolutely not. I loved him. Would you want a Bachelor/Bachelorette party before you get married? Sure, sounds fun. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? As of very recently, I returned to using pads. I used tampons for most of my maturity, but I got annoyed with them for TMI reasons and resorted back to pads, even though I don't like them either. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To die happy with my life and what I (hopefully) accomplished. What colour are the socks you’re wearing today? I’m not wearing any. Who was the last person you sent a Facebook message to and what did you say? Girt. It was something regarding how I once considered doing the suicide mission at BWW where you eat a select number of their hottest wings, but I didn't wanna die via chicken. :^) Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? I'm average in height. I wouldn't change it, nah. Especially now that Girt and I are together the ridiculous height difference is hilarious but also cute lmao. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Like, while I was there? No. Have you ever had casual sex? Nahhhh. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. @_@ When you think of your childhood, are the memories mostly happy or sad? Mostly happy, I guess. What is it like being you? Is it enjoyable? It's very boring with few sources of joy. What are your thoughts on the cause of homosexuality? I would *assume* it's a genetic mutation. Reason being, having a romantic partnership without the ability to reproduce defies the motives of science. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, wrong with said (and hypothetical) genetic mutation, though. Mutations are just another part of science. They occur naturally. What subjects did you find most interesting in school? Least? Most interesting: literature/English (especially reading like, old mythology and epics and stuff like that), LOTS of branches of science (but primarily genetics), art, and I looooved my four semesters of German. Least: ANY and ALL math, history, economics, social studies... that kind of stuff. Which do you enjoy more–hot or cold beverages? Cold, for sure. What were some of your favorite bands from childhood? Green Day was one. Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? Buried alive, for sure. It would be much, much slower. Should you really be doing something more productive right now? Well, I SHOULD be sleeping. Today's going to be a long day, because when Girt comes over, he has a tendency to not leave until like fuckin midnight or later alksdjfl;waje Have you ever lived out of your car? No. Does your family own more than two houses? HUNNY we r poor. A relative just committed a very serious crime, do you turn them in? It depends on the exact crime, but odds are, yes. If you're endangering others, byyyyeeee. You’re in the woods, alone, at night…are you honestly not afraid? Bitch I'm terrified. I have zero survival skills. You are on life support, what would you want a loved one to do about it? For the love of god, please kill me. Your child has only a while to live, do you still enroll them in school? That would be up to them. Also, define "a while." How would you feel if you met your idol and they ended up being rude? WELP I have a tattoo in his honor so that would suck ass lmao According to the tale, was Eve wrong for eating and sharing the apple? "God was wrong for even setting up an apple tree and making up rules in the first place." <<<< There ya go. And the punishment was fucking ludicrously extreme. Are you working on any goals? Yes. I'm currently going to the gym regularly to try and better my physical health and then find a job. I know that being connected sounds odd, but trust me: I can barely carry out very simple tasks just because I have absolutely ZERO stamina to do almost anything. I need energy and endurance. I'm also working towards developing some self-love. Which parent named you? I wanna say my mom. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I mean, myself. Aforementioned self-love is hard. I'm just annoyed my head is so reluctant to accept that I'm not a piece of shit for a million reasons. Why have most of your past relationships ended? They all ended for different reasons, really. Are you having any online conversations, currently? I'm not. What’s on your mind? I'm just tired and going back to bed real soon. Have you ever had an argument with a teacher? No.

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Raise Your Voice Against Liars

By BeeTeeDubya14 & Naruwitch On Archive of Our Own

@thebigpapilio asked me if I accepted submissions and I do! This is a Miraculous + Persona 5 crossover, that they have been working on with their friend! While I don't actually know Persona 5, I read over the first chapter and found it very interesting! I thought for sure you'd all enjoy it as much as I did! So here is the first chapter! If you like it please go on to Archive of Our Own and give them some love!!

"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."

-Andre Berthiaume

Chapter 1: L'Interrogatoire

Sae leaned back, puzzled by what the prisoner just said, “So the Phantom Thieves only stole the heart of Futaba Sakura…? And Medjed was in turn defeated by her real-world hacking abilities…? Well, this does correlate to the facts as we know them…” 

Sae grew quiet, and her next sentence was mostly to herself, though she said it aloud. “If he’s telling the truth, then Wakaba Isshiki didn’t commit suicide… did a third party target her life with the goal of destroying her research? Wakaba’s death was two years ago… that also coincides with when the incidents started occurring… does this other Metaverse user that Madarame and Kaneshiro mentioned… really exist…?”

With a frown, she shook her head before turning her attention back to the captive, “Earlier I mentioned those psychotic breakdown incidents that have alarmed the public. All of a sudden, people will lose consciousness, or become violent… A situation as incomprehensible as that can’t be explained away as ‘troubled social conditions.’ I suspect that these cases are all connected to a larger, man-made plot. The method involved always muddled the explanation, but your story has virtually confirmed its viability. Although, I wouldn’t have expected a new criminal to come to light from your testimony…” Sae leaned closer to the prisoner, “What did your group think of this other Metaverse user?”

“You mean the true criminal?” he questioned.

Sae scoffed, “How self-centered of you. The Phantom Thieves tamper with people’s hearts without asking consent. How is that different?”

Sighing, Sae then continued to focus on the prisoner. “Well… no matter how you thought of them, there can be no doubting your resolve. Are those incidents because of you or someone else…? Either way, I will get to the bottom of this.”

Sae shook her head, and pulled out her briefcase again, “Now let’s move on to your next crime.” She pulled out a folder, just as she had the last four times and laid it in front of the teenager, “Lila Nikenna Rossi. An Italian student who was studying at Collège Françoise Dupont in Paris, France. This is the first known report of the Phantom Thieves targeting someone outside of Japan. Your testimony regarding this incident will be serious. I’m sure you understand why. Not only is she your first foreign target, but also the youngest target out of all that the Phantom Thieves have changed the heart of. Answer me carefully. Why did you go after her?”

Despite all the grogginess afflicting him, Akira Kurusu managed to faintly grin.

“We owed some good people a favor.”

Chapter 2: Wake up, Get up, Get Out (Of) There

"Are you sure you're going to be okay in Hawaii, Marinette?"

"Yes, Luka, I'll be fine," Marinette smiled as she pulled her luggage off the security belt.

"Remember, if you need to talk, at any time, please do it, okay? I don't care if it's 2 AM over here. If you need-"

"Luka, you're treating me like a child," Marinette said bluntly, but no heat was behind it.

The guitarist gasped on the other line, "No, no! That's not what I was implying, I just-"

Marinette giggled. That's one of the things she really liked about Luka. "That overprotective attitude isn't going to change anytime soon, is it?" That said, although there were times where he went a little overboard, he usually knew Marinette's limits. It seemed that he needed a small reminder before she departed for her flight, though.

Ever since Chloe's stunt as Miracle Queen, she and Luka had been dating steadily for several months. After Adrien had made it official with Kagami, Marinette struggled to move on and accept that it was better to simply be friends with the model. She, of course, didn't want to use the older Couffaine as a fallback guy, and she had made that clear to him shortly before they made it official too, but… Luka had been there for her when no one else was. She had been in a dark place, and there seemed to be no way out. But Luka provided the light she needed to find the exit.

As for Chloe herself? Well… once word got out about Hawkmoth's near victory, and Chloe's involvement with it, many citizens and even government officials spoke out against the mayor and other members of his staff for action to be taken. The incident with the metro tunnel was also brought up, as Chloe was never adequately punished for intentionally endangering so many people. Mayor Bourgeois, to appease the masses, was forced to send Chloe away to a boarding school in Sweden, at least until Hawkmoth was finally dealt with. That's where she'd been for the past five months, and Marinette hadn't heard from the blonde since.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts before they could fester. She was going to Hawaii for crying out loud! And she was going to have a blast! Nothing was going to change that. Not Hawkmoth, not Lila, and her lies, nothing would get in her way of having a fun time.

The thought of Hawkmoth had her hand subconsciously wander to her purse, where Tikki and Kaalki were situated. She was so lucky (heh, that would garner a laugh from Chat) that Kwamis didn't show up on cameras, much less on airport security x-rays machines. She would have had a field day trying to explain that to a security guard.

Luka gave a breathy laugh over the phone, "Sorry, a force of habit. Sorry I couldn't be there to see you or Jules off personally."

Marinette smiled. That had been the original plan, but as luck would have it, Luka got called in for an emergency shift by his boss at the very last minute, and there were no other people who could fill in.

"No problem, sometimes life happens like that. Although, even on vacation, Hawkmoth's Akumas always have the worst timing."

She could see Luka wincing on the other line, "Yeah, considering that Hawaii is practically on the opposite side of the world, it looks like you're in for some long nights. So sorry, babe."

She had the news app on high alert at all times, so the second an Akuma alert went up, she'd teleport back to Paris to deal with the Akuma as quickly as possible. She was grateful that Luka would be on standby with Sass as well, especially when Chat Noir alerted her that he would be out of town for the weekend as well.

"Yeah…"

"Marinette! We're about to board! Please come and join the class!" Mme. Bustier called from the boarding gate.

"Gotta go, Luka, I'll text you when we land in Tokyo!"

"Okay, be safe! Love you!"

"Love you too!"

There were, fortunately, no accidents or disruptions as Marinette boarded the plane and found her seat. After buckling up, Tikki and Kaalki poked their heads out of her little purse. The bag was small enough that Marinette wasn't required to put it under the seat, so long as it stayed flung over her shoulder. The little red Kwami winked at her holder, and Kaalki nodded. Marinette smiled at her little companions and pretended to listen to the flight attendant give the safety instructions.

It wasn't long before she watched from her window seat the plane take off from the tarmac. Once the pilot said they were at cruising altitude, Marinette pulled out her MP3 player and headphones and leaned back with a smile, the soft melody of Luka's guitar strings lulling her to sleep.

o~o

Marinette was awakened by the thump of the plane landing.

As she traversed the airport "with" her classmates (they were all hanging around Lila and leaving her alone), she noticed a pattern in the dress of many passersby, most of which were likely Japanese locals given that they were in Japan at the moment. Black & red seemed to be a common staple at this airport, more than occasionally accompanied by the words "Take Your Heart" and a weird logo of a domino mask and top hat. The words "Phantom Thieves" were sprawled across many of the logos too.

Marinette wanted to ask around as to what it all meant, but she didn't know a lick of Japanese and had places to be, so she moved on. She'd just look it up at the hotel.

She sent a quick text to Luka to let him know she'd arrived safely and was on her way to the hotel they'd be staying at for the night. Then she switched to the web, typing "Phantom Thieves" into the search engine. She found quite a few interesting things in a place called the "Phan-Site." There was apparently a group of vigilantes out there in Japan - Tokyo, specifically - calling themselves "The Phantom Thieves" with the power to "change people's hearts" (which seemed to mean making said people confess their crimes. How that worked, Marinette had no idea). So far, the Phantom Thieves had only taken down four major targets, their names, and information listed on the site. Marinette didn't recognize any of them, but when she typed up the names, she was immediately glad that these people had had "a change of heart."

The first, theorized to be the Thieves' very first target, was a man Suguru Kamoshida. He was apparently an Olympic volleyball medalist that taught at a high school called Shujin Academy. The Thieves targeted him because it was revealed that he was physically abusing and even sexually assaulting several students at the school. One of them even tried to commit suicide right in front of the student body because of it. Thankfully, this student survived their attempt. According to separate reports, the school was well aware of the abuse but didn't do a thing to stop it. Then, about a week after the suicide attempt, Kamoshida confessed to everything! The abuse, the assaults, everything.According to reports, it was like he was a completely different person, almost like his personality had changed entirely. He was now being held on bail and awaiting trial. Marinette hoped he went away forever!

The second person was a former artist named Ichiryusai Madarame. (Now that she thought about it, she could have sworn she saw his name on some art pieces at the Louvre for a limited time Japanese exhibit). He cultivated his own fame and fortune by sacrificing the livelihood of children. He took young artists into his home, a tiny shack, and then stole and plagiarized their work, passing it off as his own. Apparently, one of his victims was his own foster son. Just like with Kamoshida, Madarame, shortly after one of his exhibits closed, confessed to these crimes, his personality having shifted completely. Even though he seemed to show remorse, Marinette hoped he got what he deserved. This man reminded her too much of Bob Roth, especially when he stole Kitty Section's music and her costume designs.

Next was Junya Kaneshiro. This target was apparently what really allowed the Phantom Thieves' popularity to take off. He was a mafia boss that even the local authorities were struggling to arrest, even though his crimes were common knowledge in the Shibuya area. Then suddenly, he one day turned himself into the police. This one didn't have as much information. The police apparently tried to keep the arrest on the down-low due to the circumstances. The only reason the public found out the Phantom Thieves were involved was because of an abundance of calling cards that were scattered all over Shibuya. Kamoshida and Madarame had received similar cards before they confessed as well.

Finally, and this happened about a week ago, a group of international hackers, under the name Medjed, attempted a cyberwar against the Phantom Thieves and Japan itself. They threatened to ruin Japan's economy through a cyber attack unless the Phantom Thieves surrendered and revealed their identities to the public. They had set a deadline and everything. Then, the day before the deadline would have expired, the Phantom Thieves apparently stopped them, as Medjed's website was hacked with the Phantom Thief logo all over the webpage. Whether that was done by the Phantom Thieves themselves, or an avid supporter, no one knew, but Medjed was stopped, and Japan's economy remained stable.

Despite being vigilantes, Marinette genuinely believed the Phantom Thieves were helping the public overall by exposing corruption like this. Who knew what would still be happening if these people were still allowed to roam free? She didn't know how the Thieves convinced these people to confess their crimes and had no clue what "steal your heart" meant, though she had a feeling it wasn't something natural. Their actions seemed to be non-violent, though. None of their victims showed signs of physical injury or torture when they confessed. That was likely another reason the Phantom Thieves were receiving so much public support.

Marinette had learned a lot about destiny from Fu (it still hurt a little bit not referring to him as Master, even in her head), and the fact she was temporarily in the place where something this momentous, something this clearly magical was going on… she needed to look into this. But how? Nobody knew who the Phantom Thieves were, much less what they looked like! You could supposedly communicate with them via a proxy on the Phan-site, but no one has officially met any of them face-to-face. They seemed to be masters of blending into the crowd, not to mention the police weren't getting solid leads either.

What was even more confusing was that Tikki and Kaalki didn't know anything about this whole thing either.

"I've never heard of "changing people's hearts" in the way it's described here," Tikki admitted, referring to the Phan-Site.

"Hmm… maybe Ziggy knows something? She's the kwami of Imagination, so she's the one most connected to the mind," Kaalki suggested.

"Alright, I'll talk to Ziggy when we get back to Paris," Marinette nodded. She hoped the Goat Kwami had a possible answer.

"Hmmm… I wonder if Kagami knows anything about them," Marinette wondered aloud, glancing over at Alix, who was snoring in the bed next to hers. Surprisingly, Alix had volunteered to room with Marinette, which shocked her. She and Alix were friends, but not like how she and Alya used to be. Now that she thought about it, though, Alix may still listen to Lila's stories, but it seemed to be more out of politeness than actual interest now. If anything, for the last month or so, when Alix and Lila interacted, the skater just looked bored with the Italian. Could it be that the skater was catching onto Lie-la's lies?

Deciding to check if her theory had merit, Marinette sent a text to the fencer, asking if she had heard of the Phantom Thieves or not. She got a reply a few minutes later. Kagami had heard of them, but she didn't know much about them either. She and her mother had been living in Paris for about a year and a half, and the Phantom Thieves had only surfaced only a few months ago, so she didn't have much information apart from a few Japanese news articles and some online searches.

Marinette sighed and began to put her phone away when an Akuma alert blew up her screen.

"Perfect timing, Hawkmoth," she muttered sarcastically as she got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. She turned on the light to make it look like she was simply using the toilet before letting the two kwamis slip out of her purse, "Let's deal with this quickly! Tikki, spots on!"

One magical transformation later, Ladybug stood in all her glory in the tiny Tokyo bathroom. She quickly pulled out Kaalki's glasses and slipped them on. "Tikki, Kaalki, unify!"

o~o

It was about thirty minutes later that Ladybug (Lady Horseshoe with both Miraculous active) stepped back into the hotel bathroom. By the time that she had gotten to the actual fight, Luka, clothed as his new hero alias Kobra, had managed to corner the Akuma and figure out where the item was. One Lucky Charm later, and two shots of Second Chance, according to the snake hero, the Akuma was purified, and everything returned to normal in Paris.

She was also equally grateful that Kobra seemed calm after the fight ended. There had been fights in the past that had left the hero shaking, eyes wide with barely masked horror. One fight had him clinging to Ladybug afterward for about two minutes before she convinced him to let go of her. Even after that, it had taken the night being alone, lots of tears, and cuddling for Luka to finally calm down and accept that everything was okay.

During these moments was when Marinette was reminded that the Snake Miraculous was sometimes considered the most dangerous of the Miraculous. Not only did it make the holder a problematic opponent in combat, but the mental load it carried for the holder itself could take its toll over time. Luka had seen some things as both Viperion and Kobra, some that took more time to process and work through than others.

It had taken Luka a while to understand that he could talk to someone about what was going on. Due to his own family dynamics, and his selfless nature, Luka wasn't used to talking about his own problems, and usually preferred to work through them on his own. Over time though, this wore the guitarist down, to the point that he couldn't hide it anymore. This was one of the factors that convinced Marinette, as the Guardian, to make Luka a permanent holder. Sass had been an excellent help for Luka to process the many 'bad endings' he was forced to witness as part of his power. However, there were sometimes days where talking to the little kwami wasn't enough, which was why the couple had the rule of calling the other whenever they needed to speak. Even if it was in the middle of the night.

Other factors contributed to this decision too, but Marinette was too exhausted to dwell on them for now as she snuck out of the bathroom. To her relief, Alix was still asleep and seemed oblivious to what had happened.

After grabbing a macaroon for Tikki and a sugar cube for Kaalki (both of which she picked up in Paris), Marinette quickly climbed into her own bed and was asleep within seconds.

[heartwoodventures]

Heartwood Hatchingtide!

A mysterious note had been posted on the company’s bulletin board, beckoning members to meet at Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre for a Hatchingtide celebration! But beyond explaining that the event was to ‘help the youth,’ details were scarce. Who’s organizing this? And what activities will happen? You’ll have to go to the amphitheatre to find out.

And the place is absolutely decked out in egg-related decorations! But most prominent is the large and ‘in charge’ chicken, dancing mad on the road leading to the center. They wave at you two, and then continue to jig.

Intrigued by the odd note, Aislinn made the time to wander her way over to the amphitheatre. Whatever was going on, her curiosity got the better of her and she needed to find out.

Cravendy What is an egg’s least favorite day of the week? Fryday! Happy....friday! xD )) Cravendy I inflict pain unto myself everytime I make a pun ))

Riylli shuffled her way through the city, keeping her head down and trying not to attract attention as she made her way to the Ampitheatre. Whatever dour mood she was in would be briefly erased however as soon as she took in the dancing chicken that appeared to be waiting for her. "Er... Cravs..? Is that you..?"

"Twelve save us." Aislinn said, shaking her head as a smile worked its way across her lips. She paused a few seconds more to watch the chicken in its maddening jig, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. "You know, I'd bet gil on it."

Riylli (I love the way our heads move watching her dance Riylli (getting in on the beat Aislinn ((We're mesmerized))

Aislinn - She waves to the chicken. "So what's all this about helping out at Hatchingtide?"

“Cravs? Who’s that?” The chicken momentarily stops dancing and, somewhere in the distance, a kid groans in disappointment. Seeing that, the chicken slumps, but begins to groove once more. “I...I am none other. Huff. Than. Chickendy Hound! And it was I that called you out today on a mission...most. Huff. Important.”

Aislinn's smile widens. "Sounds like you've been dancing there quite awhile, Chickendy Hound." she noted in amusement as she plays along.

Riylli staaaaaaaaaaaared, bewilderment on her face as she tried to wrap her head around exactly what was happening here. That was definitely Cravs. Even without the giveaway of the name, the only other one in the company that tall was Rising, who Riylli was particularly sure would not be able to dance like the chicken was after the previous night. "Er... And what's that then?"

“Ay shite, I’ve been dancin’ for bloody who knows ‘ow long...” Cravs grumbles, and at that very moment a mother and child strolls on by. Cravs stiffens and clears her throat. “I mean. I can dance all day and all night! But now, the egg advocates would have us take care of another chore-I mean, thing of utmost importance. And that...is collecting eggs!”

Riylli pauses her judgmental staring to instead watch the mother and child pass, seemingly getting distracted for a moment before turning back to the chicken and letting out a sigh. "...Right. We gettin' paid for this or what?" She asks coldly, apparently back to whatever bad mood she had been in before meeting Chickendy

In contrast to Riylli's foul (fowl) mood, Aislinn seems to be enjoying this all too much. She makes a poor attempt to hold back any more laughter and nods to the passing mother and child. She couldn't begin to imagine how hot a suit like that must get. "Aye, of course. Harsh task masters, these egg advocates."

“No good deed goes unpaid! Which is to say, no, we’re not gettin’ bloody paid for this. I asked.” Cravs crosses her arms and I swear, you could see her chicken hat’s eyes furrow in grumpy anger. “Though they said we can keep any extra eggs, which ye can probably sell if yer strapped for cash.”

"....ye -do- get a free chicken suit though. That count for anythin'?"

"How, exactly, did they talk you into this, then?" Aislinn wryly asks.

Aislinn leans forward a bit and lowers her voice. "Did you lose a bet?"

Riylli let out another long sigh. "I hate this damned city so much..." She mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose as she seriously considered just turning around right then and there

"Ch-chickendy needs no reason to spread cheer in the world!" It's unclear if that's the whole truth, half, or not at all.

Riylli shot Cravs a glare, "Oy Chickendy, you better give me a better reason than that. How'd the scary pirate lady that can't even apologize end up in a situation like this?"

That earns a doubtful, though amused noise from Aislinn. "Yeah, if Chickendy is anything like Cravendy I'm not sure that math works out." Nevertheless, she shrugs a shoulder. She needed a break from building the prototypes at any rate, it was why she wandered out in the first place. "Alright then, I'm in for a bit of egg collecting." paused. "Chicken eggs, right?" she asked, deciding she better double check.

“HEY. I’m not so cold that I’d refuse to do some good in the world! That, and I didn’t say no right away. These folk sense weakness and twist yer arm until...” Cravs hears something approach from behind and freezes up.

Aislinn ((I'm going to hear this song in my sleep)) Riylli ( PA PAYA Cravendy pa paya! :D ))

An egg advocate comes over, peppiness turned dangerously past the dial. They drop a box containing chicken costumes in front of Riylli and Lin and - did they wink somehow? “You must be joining our friend here in setting up! A thousand thanks for choosing to spend your time spreading the festivities!”

Riylli shot the newcomer a glare so powerful that it could probably be tried as physical assault. "You have to be joking. You want me to wear that shite too?"

Aislinn eyes the chicken suit that was so unceremoniously dropped in front of her. "Wait...you were serious about the costume?" she looked the egg advocate over. The maniacal exuberance and zippered up smile a touch zealous. "Why the suits? We're collecting eggs, right?"

Aislinn ((It's all fun and games until you get stuffed in a chicken suit))

“Of course! The kids -love- it, and it’s said that wearing this’ll help you collect the eggyest of eggs! Chicken eggs!” The advocate unpacks the box’s contents, finds a suit fitting Riylli’s size, and thrusts it upon her without a moment’s hesitation. This person is awfully pushy, with all the strength of a traveling salesman who's got their foot in the door. “Now now, no fussing and get cracking!”

Cravendy laughs weakly.

Aislinn suddenly finds her arms weighed down in a similar fashion. She narrows her eyes slightly over the bulky armload, very likely imagining an unseemingly kind of violence that would wipe the peppiness right out of the pushy advocate. But then she cuts a glance to the still dancing Cravendy and merely sighs. The Seawolf was definitely in dire straits. "Fine. But we bring you back eggs that are eggier than other eggs and then ALL three of us are off the hook."

Riylli is forced to accept the chicken suit into her hands, blinking as her stare went from it, to Cravs, to the advocate. She wondered if it would be possible to evade capture from this deep inside the city if she were to commit some sort of crime right about now. Her attentions thankfully turn back to Cravendy. "The next time we go out drinking, you're paying for every round I feel like havin'" Riylli stated her demands, figuring it would be in everyone's best interest to ignore the advocate

The advocate squeals with glee and points to the west. There, you’ll find the chicken coops, the eggs, the hens! Best of luck! And as the three of them make their way over, the moment Cravs is a safe distance away from the advocate she slumps over. “Thank ye both...that person is frighteningly stubborn. Ye don’t want to know.”

Riylli lets out an absolutely exhausted sigh. "Figured you wouldn't be doin' this if you weren't in some sorta trouble... One day we're gonna have to teach you how to talk to people though." She muttered as she shoved the mask on over her head.

Aislinn stares at the retreating advocate's back, noting how a squeal was not a verbal agreement. A point that might have to be dealt with later. For now, she turns to Cravendy and shrugs. "Sometimes I think our contracts are easier to deal with." she added.

Cravendy nods in agreement with Lin. Clear cut rules, payment! But in the world of volunteering and do-goodery, there was a wide spectrum of folk to tussle with. She looks over to Riylli and snorts. “Looks weird with just the ‘ead.”

Riylli began idly fiddling around underneath her mask as she tried to get it to fit properly. "Course these things don't fit my damn ears... Nice to know nothings changed around here." She muttered angrily, definitely feeling very spiteful today. "EVERY. ROUND." Riylli reminded Cravs, then finally began to put on her suit, grumbling all the while

Aislinn - As they made their way to this special hen house, Aislinn struggled into the ridiculous chicken costume. "Know what this is? This is Nymeia's jest in return for me laughing earlier." she shook her head, her small frame almost swallowed up by the bulk of the costume. Looking down at herself, she laughed. "What is my life right now?" she pondered aloud.

Cravendy ALRIGHT so since the fates up, lets hop to it xD )) Cravendy whoever gets the most eggs...wins! )) Riylli (BAH, I SUCK AT THIS FATE THO Cravendy SAME LOL  )) Aislinn Also same)) Cravendy GDI )) Riylli ( KNOCK ME TO VICTORY Cravendy these chickens have NO EGGCUSE being this rude )) Riylli (GAH Aislinn ((They're very eggcitable)) Cravendy at some point you get knocked around to much )) Cravendy you accept heavy as a way of life )) Riylli (using the aoe to dash me to other eggs Riylli (this is pro gaming Cravendy make sure to turn in your eggs! )) Riylli 16 Cravendy AGHF I keep interrupting myself xD )) Cravendy 12! LOL )) Aislinn ((9!)) Cravendy damn pro gamer over here ahah )) Riylli (Riylli shall win every hunt in this fc Riylli Y E S Cravendy EGG )) Cravendy OMG )) Cravendy thats cannibalism! xD )) Riylli (victory tastes so good Cravendy tho my parents own chickens and they egg their own eggs all the time lol )) Aislinn ((Are you eating them ALL? Cool Hand Luke over here)) Riylli eggsecution Cravendy STOP you'll overdose on them! )) Riylli (I aint doing it again you cant make me Aislinn ((EGGsplosion))

Cravendy limps away from the henhouse. Truly, these birds were in a fowl mood! But she’s managed to collect a dozen and that’s something, right?

Riylli finishes her hunt with sixteen total eggs in her basket, the ultimate hunter in both speed and grace. Of course, she may have thrown some chickens around and caused some children to cry, but victory is all that mattered in the end. If she had to be a chicken, she would be the GREATEST CHICKEN

Aislinn hurriedly clambers over the fence, a basket half-full of eggs and the sound of muffled curses coming from under her mask. "Those birds are not normal. I see why we need the damned suits now. They're protection."

Cravendy - “Never thought I’d be tossed around by a...by a chicken?!” Putting it into words doesn’t help at all. She peers over to Riylli’s haul. “‘ow’d ye manage to get so many?”

Cravendy LOL at any cost, Riylli will be the ultimate chicken xD )) Riylli (Shoving children over and stealing their eggs

Riylli puffed up her chest, somehow managing to look proud even inside such a ridiculous outfit. "When will you learn... Keepers are the greatest hunters there are! Doesn't matter if it's beast or bugs or... or eggs..." Her confidence wavered a bit at the end there, but she wasn't about to give up this opportunity to gloat

Aislinn pulls her mask off with a huff and pushes back the hair plastered to her brow. She quietly counts up the eggs between the three of them. "This better be enough to buy your freedom from this cult, Cravendy."

Cravendy “Smaller target is all. Chickens were too busy chasin’ me around.” Cravs smirks beneath her hat.

Riylli pulled her chicken hood off, freeing her ears from their confines and giving them a tentative flick. Despite herself, she was wearing a large grin that let Cravendy know this was not the last time she would hear of this. "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

“I ‘ope so too, Lin.” Cravs sighs, thinking back to how chicken-garbed strangers would pop out at the strangest of times, incessantly asking about when she was going to finally help out. But when she sees the smiles on everyone’s faces, a part of her gives. It’s not all to keep nosy birds off her back. “...OY WAIT. Cravs? It’s Chickendy!”

Aislinn starts peeling off the hen-pecked suit and shoots the Seawolf a wry smile. "Aye, aye. Chickendy. My mistake." she paused, struggling to fold the suit over one arm while holding her basket in the other. "Should we get these over to the amphitheatre so they can be...decorated or painted. Whatever they do to them next."

Cravendy sulks. She knows that tone. Call her crazy, but a small part of her had held onto hope that somehow the two of them hadn’t made the connection. “Ay, let's get this over with.”

Riylli glanced down at the mask in her hands and thought for a moment, before suddenly deciding to put it back on. "Think Ill keep this on 'till were out of the city... Personally I hope Chickendy sticks around though. She can dance for us next time we go out on a mission, keep our morale high." She teases

Aislinn slides a glance Riylli's way. "Might come in handy if we ever face down another mob of avians."

Cravendy nearly chokes at the thought of dancing to raise morale. But she fumes in silence.

As you approach the amphitheatre once more, the sounds of children laughing fill the air. All around you, families and friends excitedly partake in egg-related activities. The advocate happily accepts the party’s baskets, and then hands each of them a delicately painted egg. “You all did so good! Here, as a reward!”

Riylli silently accepted the egg, paused for a moment, then immediately dropped it. "Woops." She muttered, sarcasm absolutely dripping off her tone. It seemed now that the thrill of victory had faded, Riylli was back to her previously grumpy self. "So sorry, hard to get a good grip in this costume. You understand I'm sure."

Aislinn nods in thanks as she carefully takes the egg. She smiles in her quiet way as she runs a finger along its surface, appreciating the detail. After a moment, she looks back up at the advocate. "Those are quite some chickens you've got there. The suits did actually come in handy."

Cravendy takes the egg and pockets it. Somehow.

“No worries! Have another!” The advocate presents another gift to Riylli. A chocolate egg. They then turn to Lin, sunshine exuding from behind their feathered maw. “The finest hens in Eorzea! And they lay the tastiest eggs too!”

Riylli accepts the gift, and then drops the gift. "Woops." She said again, practically challenging the advocate to give her another. Pettiness was her specialty, and she could do this all day.

The henny-helper hums in thought, and then raises a finger as a lightbulb lights up above their head. They take out a sticker and plaster it on the center of Riylli’s chicken hat. Bock bock!

“I’m free now, right? I am, right?” Cravs asks, and the Hatchingtide worker nods. Cravs stumbles back in relief, and then looks to Lin and Riylli. “Thanks...er, strangers. Well, I must be off. To somewhere.”

Aislinn sighs softly. "Nymeia's breath." she says, barely audible. This way lay trouble, she could sense it. "Right, then. Ah...thank you, I suppose." It seemed the polite thing to say. "And...good luck with the rest of your Hatchingtide. We'll just be heading out now."

Aislinn begins back away slowly

Riylli stared, trying and ultimately failing to figure out a way to counter this attack as well. Giving up, she turned to Cravs. "See you later Chickendy, try not to make eye contact with any strangers on your way out." She said, offering her a wave. She followed close to Aislinn as she backed away, sighing heavily. "Lets go back to the house and burn this shite..."

Although they had been strongarmed into helping out, the three of them did good in spreading festive cheer in Gridania. But perhaps they would stay far away from any chicken-suited fellows in the future....just in case.

Aislinn - "Might come in handy though somewhere down the line." she says with such a straight face, it's unclear as to whether she's joking or not.

[liechotomy]

okay not about the hat BUT this is more about Kokichi in his backstory and I'm curious about your view. if he uses something in symbolism of defeating evil, was he and DICE also facing a lot of evil? i have the impression he learned in trial by fire but there's so little information which weirds me out. i just feel like it was pretty bad, like he was actually fighting a bad organization or something? tho this is a bit conspiracy theory ig lol

okay a bit more clearly in case it came across wrong: if he's doing that stuff outside of the killing game (the whole pretending to be a bad guy thing) does it mean that the world is fucked up outside besides 'obsessed with dr'? I feel like Tsumugi pulled a lot of nonsense with the fiction and Kokichi's situation is messed up like he had to deal with life or death a lot to get to how he is now 

I’m still mulling over much of the specifics of Ouma’s backstory. Eventually I should put some verses and/or backstory information up regarding my ideas. But for now... In my view, there are basically two backstories to consider--the fictional one Tsumugi created and the real one that existed before the killing game (the truth, basically). Everything we know about Ouma is pretty much restricted to the “fake” backstory, including the existence of DICE. According to my headcanons, the reality of the situation is that a despair cult has been continuing to run and broadcast killing games after the events of DR1-3 (and that those events being fictional was a lie). I also believe the events of DRv3 all occurred inside a program resembling Neo World.

Buuut all that’s just a tangent, sorry. Since we’re talking about the backstory with DICE in it, this would be the fictional history. So that means the whole story including the meteors that hit as the world was recovering from the Tragedy, the virus, the Gofer Project, space, earth’s destruction, etc. Just to be clear.

Anyway, my perception of what DICE seemed to be like, and the way Ouma operates as sort of a chaotic element for change/progress, gives me the feeling they were more the type to want to defy the harmful aspects of the status quo. The fact that they committed (non-violent) crimes indicates to me that they might be thwarting a concept rather than an organization/s, if that makes sense? Like, they’re not evil, but they’re also not lawful. In my tentative headcanon, it could be that as the world was recovering from Despair and the Tragedy, society might have reactively swung the other way in regards to order and control--meaning in order to combat despair, societies (or at least Ouma’s community) began to impose harsh regulations and a strict, inflexible view of proper conduct. Basically, they retaliated against the uncertainty and chaos of a world in despair, with excessive order. And for whatever reason, maybe just personality-related, Ouma and the other members of DICE did not fit in well in such a stringent environment. They chose to rebel, holding the belief that a little chaos won’t kill anyone. It’s not the same as despair; in fact, too much order and control are their own sort of burdens that could also end in despair. But yes, I would bet that the world definitely still had a lot of problems and that Ouma’s life (fictional--and real, honestly) has been unusual and difficult. No one develops so many masks and lies as a coping mechanism for no reason.

Regarding the symbolism of his hat (that represents a heroic traitor to the Nazis, for those of you just tuning in)... In general, Ouma seems to secretly encourage others to look at reality from various angles, not just accepting truth or lies at face value, but understanding different, hidden truths that are proven by the actions of others or even the results their plans. So his hat, and the fact that his crimes are laughable, that he’s never honest about his threats of death or violence... They all point to the lesson that you have to look deeper at a person (especially him) to truly know them. The example he wears is this: one could lash out in offense at the perception that he’s wearing a Nazi hat, but that perception is a lie, because his hat is worn in honor of the German officer who gave his life try to kill Hitler and demolish the SS. And if you don’t care enough about him to try to truly get to know him, he will play along with your vapid notion that he is a villain, continuing to give subtle hints to the contrary.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Could I ask for Mountain Tim with #9 (The first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed somewhere on your body)? I love me my cowboys- would absolutely wed him on the spot if I met him irl!!

Yee to the haw! I would totally marry him too! I'm so glad you requested! Also I just managed to finish this on my lunch break.

The night watch (Yandere Mountain Tim X Female Reader)

You had been sitting in a train carriage for maybe two to three days. You couldn't help but be struck in awe, so much had changed in America since you were sent away to France nineteen years ago, slavery had been abolished and the county was slowly gaining momentum as an upper nation and another presidential campaign had began.

You couldn't read a newspaper without seeing Funny Valentine's name on almost every page and you could understand why he was a man of the nation and had the patriotism that a president needed.

As the train grinded to a halt the dust flew up in the hot summer wind. You stood up, grabbed your bags and made your exit. You walked calmly out of the train and saw only one unfamiliar male standing at the station. A blonde haired male who had the indistinguishable look of a cowboy. He tipped his hat up as he noticed your presence and you caught the gleam of his sheriff's badge as he approached you. You let out a hiss of annoyance, he was most likely sent by Mayor Harold Jones to have you locked up for the crime you never committed.

"Are you here to arrest me sheriff because if you are then please do so later, I have to visit my mother urgently" you said as you tried to walked past him but he grabbed your arm to stop you. For a split second you could see a gleam of shock in his eyes.

"No I wasn't aware of any pending arrest against you, I'm I'm hear with a heavy heart to tell you that your mother passed away yesterday morning" he responded as he gave you an empathetic expression. You looked back at him once more and let out a sigh. You knew one day this day would come. The prophecy was tattoed in your skin. To you it was a horrible foreshadowing of what the future had in store and now it had finally happened.

It was an uncanny birthmark that went from a simple blob to actual words, you never knew why or how this happened but you did know that a sign like that would never lie.

"I'm sorry for your loss ma'am" he said. You didn't respond to him, you had no words to say.

"Do you need some help with your bags?" He asked.

"No I'm perfectly fine" you said as you shook his hand away and began to walk off to the small town which you once called home.

As you walked down the long street you saw everyone watched you, their eyes all filled with hate. The town was almost dead silent until a gunshot erupted, you could feel the bullet just brush past you.

You looked to your left to see a gruff male with a rifle in hand.

"McGavin... Couldn't even fire a sling shot properly, now look at you, can't even fire a gun... If you want to blow my brains out then I'd suggest moving to the right a little" you said in a cocky tone.

"You bitch-!" He yelled before a lady exited the house. You remembered her as a skinny blondie but the years of being married had obviously gotten to her.

"Oh Mary Ann, you really let yourself go" you commented about the fuller figured woman causing her to let out a gasp.

The town was now filled with howls and hollering, all of there mean comments directed at you but you didn't care, you'd dish out a full banquet of revenge upon them all at some stage.

As you walked down the street you noticed the blonde male following you, he only spoke after you left the chaos of the main street.

"I'd suggest you not to stir the pot if this town hates you, you were nearly shot" he said, a small amount of worry coated his calm voice and you laughed in response.

"Nobody told you?" You asked.

"About what?" He replied.

"I was forced to leave this town at the age of eight after I murdered the mayor's son Jimmy Jones..." Yo said as you turn to face the sheriff.

He looked at you in shock as he  heard such a confession come from such a young and refined woman.

"You don't think I could have done such a thing do you?" You asked him.

"No ma'am, it doesn't seem like something a young girl would do" he replied.

"My point exactly, now I must head to the house, I need to start unpacking so the house is pristine when my husband comes" you said before walking to a decent brick house at the end of the street.

👗👗👗

Those bitter first words were undeniably the same as the words over his chest, right on-top of his heart. It was a sigh of fate that you two were meant to meet.

A few weeks had passed since then and no matter where he'd go he'd always find you in some way. From what he had learnt, your name was (Y/n) (L/n) and you were an opulent dress maker that lived in France with your aunt and uncle and that you had moved back to your small hometown to start up a small business.

Everyone in town would talk about you like you were a monster in human form, a creature that brought pain and misfortune, a woman with a heart of stone or ice but when he looked in your eyes he could see a poor soul who seeked a peaceful life, a poor girl wearing a mask to hide away her emotions to all those who seeked to destroy her. It's like he had known her for all his life. Like he had watched all the times you had been kicked down and thrown around as a child.

Now he stood at the front door of your home. He knocked on the door.

"(Y/n) are you home?" He asked.

"Yes come in, if your here because June told you I stole from her shop then she's lying!" You yelled.

"I know, I saw the stolen goods at the back" he said as he walked in

"My Mama would do such a thing?" He heard another female exclaim before gasping. He walked into the living room to see you sitting at the coffee table with a younger female that held your sketch book in hand.

"You want me to wear that!" She nearly yelled at shock.

"Of course, do you think I would have gone to all the effort to sketch something I'd tell you not to" you calmly replied as you took the book back before looking towards him.

"Then what brings you here?" You asked him.

"I just wanted to see you, is there anything wrong with that?" He replied.

"Well you've chosen the right time, my husband is preparing some afternoon tea as we speak. so take a seat" you said and he complied, sitting on the chair beside both you and the ginger haired female.

"Honey we have another guest so could you please grab another plate and cup" you called out.

"I'm not that hungry so there's no need to spoil me with your hospitality" he replied.

"Nonsense, it would be impolite to not let you eat" you insisted before focusing on your first customer, Betty Marshalls.

"I'm sorry, where were we?" You asked her.

"Could you maybe-" she was about to speak before you cut her off.

"Oh that's right, I haven't shown you the fabric yet" you said as you pulled out a basket with various snippets of different fabrics. You hands dove in with absolute determination to find the right one before pulling it out.

"Now this one, it screams elegance" you said as you showed her a piece of black silk with red oriental patterns.

"Um isn't this outfit getting a little risque..." She shuttered which caused you to give her a stern glare.

"You asked me for something eye catching, so that is what I'm going to give you" you growled.

"But if my mama saw-" she was going to say before you stood from your chair and leaned towards here and gave her a harsh poke on her chest.

"You are twenty years old for Christ sake, your Mama is a delusional, psychotic mess that wants you to suck on her teat for the rest of your life! I'm sure as hell that she's only keeping ya because she lost her son in the Civil war! So if you want to have at least a speck of a chance to marry Harry Conners and live your own life I suggest you let me do the designing and keep ya big mouth shut!" You yelled out in a banshee like screech, causing the poor girl on the receiving end to sink into her chair with a horrified expression on her face.

"Bit harsh don't you think?" Tim piped in. You let out a sigh as you slumped back into your chair and rubbed your face with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I just get a little too revved up sometimes" you sighed to the two.

"It's... It's alright" Betty squeaked out like a little mouse.

"I know how much you love your Mama Betty... I'm still a little emotional about my mother but what I'm saying is true, your mother is a two faced bitch... You may see a wonderful lady who wants to protect you but she's doing more harm then good... I know because I saw how she manipulated your older brother" you explained to the poor girl.

"Honestly the only good thing about her I can point out is her chilli con carne..." You continued as you remembered how good the hot pot mixture was whenever you managed to steal a little at various town gatherings.

"Actually... You could pay me by telling me her recipe... I've been trying to cook it for my husband for years but I just can't seem to make it the way she does" you said as you leaned in towards her.

"No... I can't just tell you!" she exclaimed.

"O come on... No one will know, I'm only going to make it for me and my husband" you said.

"No"

"Fine then the initial price of sixty dollars it is" you sighed as you grabbed your sketch book and began to rework the design before handing it to her again.

"I've just made it a little more subtle but I'll let you choose the fabric this time, ok?" You asked.

"Yes, but are you sure your going to make this before the fair?" She asked.

"Of course four days will be a breeze" you said before looking to the blonde male.

"Sheriff Mountain Tim, this will be a secret amongst us, I can't have anyone knowing about this... Especially June" you said as you twirled your slender finger in a circular motion before placing it over your lips.

"Of course ma'am" he replied as a smile appeared on his lips, despite your cold exterior he knew you were a compassionate woman deep down. He just couldn't help but fall hopelessly in love.

"Oh honey what took you so long?" You asked as a man approached the coffee table with a large tray of savouries and sweets. He had dark hair and eyes that were typically associated with Asian descent but his skin and the way his features were contoured were more European.

"I was just making sure that the food was suitable for our guests darling" he said as he put the tray down before kissing you. Tim couldn't help but feel the jealousy stab into him like a knife. He knew that you were the wife of another man but he couldn't help feel that I should be him.

The rest of the afternoon you all sat down and ate and drank. You talked about your years in France and how you had met you husband Han Cresswell during a family vacation to Vietnam at the age of sixteen and that you both married a eighteen. Mountain Tim couldn't help but feel jealousy stir inside of him, threatening to boil over. He just couldn't help but feel that he was more deserving of your love.

👗👗👗

"Honey I'll stay home with you if your really that ill" you said as you sat beside your husband on the bed.

"No I'll be fine, I just need to rest up... You go out and enjoy yourself at the fair" he replied before letting out a horrible cough.

"Are you sure... I'll stay if you aren't feeling well" you replied before a knock on the bedroom door alerted you to see the ginger hair girl who had appeared without much warning.

"God don't scare me like that Betty" you exclaimed in shock as you held your chest.

"Sorry..." She muttered.

"How hard was it to shake your mother off?" You asked, she only gave you a disgusted expression as she showed you a crinkled and  yellowing dress that had enough frills to suffocate anyone in a three foot radius.

"Oh god, I'm guessing that was her tacky old dress" you nearly choked out in disgust and she nodded a yes in response.

"I'm sorry honey but I need to help this poor girl out..." You said before kissing his forehead and standing up.

"No it's fine" he said as he gave you a smile before you guided her to your dressroom.

Betty's eyes were filled with wonder as she saw the mannequins and fabrics, mirrors and draws as well as everything in-between. You were like the fairy godmother that would make her a Cinderella.

You pulled out at dress for her and showed it to her. It was a stunning black of the shoulder dress with silver detailing, the bottom of the dress went down to her ankle and had a slit up one side that would allow her to move freely while keeping the slim figured design.

It took forever to get her out of the tacky dress but once she had the new dress on she couldn't help but look at herself in suprise. It's like it was the first time she had seen herself with administration of her form. You quickly grabbed a brush and undid the horrible twin braids and brushed her hair before draping her hair over her right shoulder and pinning it on the left to hold it in place. Her natural wavy hair gave it the bounce it needed.

Now she was a completely different person. She looked like a starlet.

"Such little changes can make a big difference" you sighed, you could even say she looked more beautiful then you. She opened her mouth but no words could escape, she was speechless.

"Now you wait down stairs, I'll be ready to go soon" you said as you shooed her as you grabbed one of your dresses.

👗👗👗

Throughout the afternoon you sat smugly as you watched all the ladies look at her and feel like shit comparison. Of course you had June confront you and go absolutely mad. Screaming on how you turned her daughter into a witch, which made you laugh before responding with a few simple words

"You'll see the real witch in the mirror... You daughter wants to live her own life now"

As night fell you sat and watched couples dance away and Betty was not dancing with Harry Conners but instead with dashing stranger who's charm couldn't be compared, it reminded you of when you first met Han all those years ago.

You were finally pulled out of your thoughts by a familiar voice.

"What are you doing sitting here all by yourself tonight?" The blonde asked. You looked at him, staring deep into his blue eyes.

"I just wanted to see how everyone reacted to Betty's dress, my husband would of come but he got sick" you explained.

"What about you?" You asked him.

"A sheriff's duties are never over, I've been patrolling the town all afternoon, everyone seems to be here but who knows if some thieves were to show up" he replied.

"So what brought you to this place in the first place?" You asked.

"I've been wondering through America for most of my life, one day I found this little struggling town and I decided to help out, I don't consider this place a home but I'll stay as long as the town needs me" he explained and you gave him a nod as you continued to watch everyone dance with their partners. Mountain Tim noticed this and extended his hand.

"I know it's wrong to ask a married woman this without her husband's permission but would you care to dance with me?" He asked and a smile appeared on your face as you took his hand.

"I'd be delighted, I'm sure my husband would be fine with it" you replied as you stood up.

👗👗👗

"I really appreciate your offer but I think I'll be fine walking home myself" you insisted to Mountain Tim.

"Are you sure? I couldn't bare the thought of you getting hurt" he replied.

"I'll be fine, my move isn't that far away, but thank you for the offer" you said.

"No need to thank me"

"Then can I tell you at least that I appreciated your company tonight, I'll admit it was daunting to be somewhere full of people that hate me..." You confessed.

"I'm glad I was, I don't see why the town could hate a beautiful woman such as yourself" he commented causing your face to turn a light shade of pink.

"I hope you have a safe trip home" he said.

"You too" you said as you began to walk.

Mountain Tim watched you fade into the distance and let out a sigh before lifting his shirt to reveal the bandaged wound he had, his blood slowly seeping through the layers of cotton gauze pads and bandages. He wished you had taken him up on the offer, he could of just followed you anyway but that would only draw suspension. He knew what he had done will add fuel to the town's fiery hatred towards you but after all, love makes a man a fool. Love makes a man do crazy things.

You felt sick as you felt your guys turning, something was off but you simply thought it might be your suprise to his compliment. You walked through the dark town that was only illuminated by the moon. When you got closer to your home you notice something was hanging from the large tree out the front.

With each step closer fear began to solidify until you realised what was hanging from it was a body, your husband's body. You ran quickly and screamed in horror. You tried to untie the end of the rope that suspended your husband's body but you couldn't.

You looked around for something and found his small dagger on the ground near his body. You picked it up and noticed the crimson liquid that stained the blade before you desperately sawed at the rope for what seemed like minutes. You cried out in fear and pain as you desperately hoped that you could save him. You occasionally ran the blade over your hands by accident as you tried you hardest to cut the rope.

Eventually the rope gave in and his body fell with a thud. You ran over and screamed out his name and cradled him in your arms as you prayed for him to still be alive, but it was no use... Had been dead long before you had arrived.

👗👗👗

"So... Everyone thinks I killed him" you sobbed into your hankerchief.

"I'm afraid so (Y/n)..." Mountain Tim responded.

"But... I loved him" you cried.

"I know, I don't think you did it but I'm investigating, I have to set my thoughts of you aside and look at the facts" he explained as he leaned forward and wiped the tears on your cheek with his thumb. Your attention caught was quickly caught by the blood dyed bandages you could only just see as the front of his shirt slightly draped as well as a tattoo over the left side of his chest, they seemed to form words but you couldn't make them out in that particular angle. For some reason your intuition was telling you something was up with whatever lied underneath the bandages.

"Why are you in bandages?" You asked.

"You shouldn't try to get involved with my personal matters, besides you need to tell me what you know" he replied in a stern tone.

"No, I'm not going to tell you anything until you show me what your hiding under those wraps" you responded in a peeved tone.

"You seem eager to avoid the subject" he responded.

"And so do you... You know I don't have the drive to commit murder" you replied.

"I never said I believed you did it, nor that it was a murder..." He replied.

"It was... As a matter of fact I found my husband's dagger at the crime scene with someone else's blood on it..." You explained. Then it clicked in your mind. The bloody dagger, Tim's injury and the time frame. He was the only one that hadn't been at the fair for the entire afternoon.

But rather then burst into tears or go rampant you sat quietly and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"What would bring a man such as yourself to take another's life in such a slow and painful way?" You asked him in a monotone voice. He simply slipped further into the lounge and let out a sigh as he shook his head.

"I'd be lying if I told you that I suspected you would figure it out" he sighed.

"I learnt a lot more in France then just sewing sheriff" you hissed.

"So what drove you to murder my husband?" You asked as you folded your arms.

"(Y/n), jealousy can drive a man to do crazy things" he explained as he took his hat off.

"So what did you want? Was it money?" You asked and he simply let out a chuckle in response.

"No, nothing materialistic ma'am" he said before you were pulled in towards him with a rope.

"Just a lonesome man such as myself would kill to have a passionate woman such as yourself to call their own" he cooed before planting a soft peck on your lips.

[fallinfor-youreyes]

You Have Not Touched Me (Yet)

Malcolm’s going to get a restraining order against her hands. Ao3

He’s staring.

Has been for the last twenty minutes at least, long enough for her to almost finish her crossword puzzle. Long enough, that if it were anyone other than Malcolm Bright, it would have passed the super weird mark about 17 minutes ago.

But, he is Malcolm Bright, so instead she is just ignoring him. Because she doesn’t want to startle him. He’s been staring at her for about 20 minutes, and his hands haven’t trembled in about 16, and if this is what it takes for him to relax for a few moments, she can deal with the odd feeling of being seen while she gets in her own few moments of her own relaxation.

If Gil asks, she’s been writing her after action report. Definitely not doing a crossword puzzle. But Gil doesn’t ask, because she always gets her reports in, and always before JT, so she’s not worried. Crosswords clear her mind.

Maybe zoning out while staring at people is what clears Malcolm’s.

“Do you have bad circulation?”

Her pen slides right off the page, effectively ruining her almost prefect crossword.

“What?” Dani lifts her eyes to him, and his head is tilted, ice clear eyes already waiting for her.

“Your hands.” He holds out his own and beckons her, and for whatever reason she complies. She drops her hand into his, and he flinches, just slightly. “Your hands are freezing.”

His hands are warm. Like insanely warm. Probably a side affect of his constant moving.

He stares at their hands a moment before his eyes flicker back to hers. “You should talk to your doctor.” His hands cup hers and they are warm, warm, warm.

“Some people have cold hands, Bright.”

“Some people have bad circulation.”

He’s still holding her hand, and suddenly more than his hands are warm. Her cheeks are warm. She feels like the entire room has warmed up serval degrees.

She’s not a fan.

Something crashes in the common area, and she jumps back, pulling her fingers from his grip.

Malcolm blinks. Then he shakes his head and stands, stretching as he does, instantly becoming more of the Malcolm Bright she knows, almost vibrating with chaotic energy. “Think Gil will let us outside now, or will we be punished because you haven’t finished your report yet?” He says, tossing in a teasing smile that makes her want to punch him.

“You are allowed to leave whenever you want, you know. Perks of being a consultant.” Dani says, stuffing her crossword under her notebook so she can officially get to work.

“I do not miss the paperwork of being a special agent” Malcolm agrees.

Dani glares at him and turns to the half done report. “Lucky you.”

Someone knocks on the glass of the conference room, and they both turn, Gil shaking a new folder at them.

Dani sighs. New case. More paperwork.

Malcolm looks almost giddy. Dani grabs her things, and smiles at Malcolm as he holds the door for her.

Then she brushes her fingers across the back of his neck and he yelps, and she runs off before he can retaliate.

“Why are your hands so cold!”

xXx

There’s a box on her desk. A box with a bow. She vaguely recognizes that is only a week until the holidays, and that she is woefully behind on present shopping.

But it doesn’t explain the box. The precinct had given up on white elephants after a disastrous year that lead to nothing but chaos, and her and JT had decided to be the type of people who exchanged old bottles of alcohol, so the box with the very pretty bow is a mystery.

“Ohh!” Edrisa rushes up to her desk, drowning in a scarf that is almost as big as her. “Is that your gift from Bright?”

“Uh,” Dani picks up the box and finds the label, Malcolm’s terrible handwriting a clear give away.

Dani-

For your hands ;)

-Bright

“Yes. I think it is.”

Edrisa wraps her scarf closer around herself. “He got me this scarf.”

Dani smiles, Edrisa’s contagious mood spilling around her. She carefully opens the box, and a pair of gloves fall out.

Real, genuine leather gloves. The kind the fancy rich kids used to wear when she was in college and they wanted to look rich and fancy.

“Ohh.” Edrisa moves closer to get a better look. “Those are lovely.”

Dani slips one on and it’s a perfect fit. Thy are soft and warm, and she can’t help but smile.

Malcolm Bright was worried that her hands were cold.

It does a stupid thing to her heart, but she ignores that.

“I think he went for a winter protection theme in his gifts.” Edrisa says, holding out her scarf. “Feel how soft. He got JT a wool hat. And I’m almost positive Gil’s surprisingly festive turtle neck is also courtesy of Bright.”

The scarf is fantastically soft, and exactly the kind of thing Edrisa would choose for herself. He’s good at this. Finding gifts for people that are functional and meaningful, and she almost hates him for it.

“Huh,” Dani says, letting holding out the other glove for Edrisa to try on. “This glove is surprisingly soft as well.”

“Maybe he just really likes soft winter gear.”

“What’s the point if it’s not soft.” Malcolm says, appearing over Erdisa’s shoulder out of nowhere, wearing a ridiculously festive hat.

“I see you got your gifts?” he asks. He’s smiling, but Dani can see the tiniest bit of uncertainty in his eyes. He’s nervous. It makes the stupid feeling in her heart multiply.

Edrisa nods hard enough Dani’s afraid she’s going to hurt herself. “Yes. Thank you so much! I love it.” She holds it the edge of it out to him. “It’s so soft.”

The uncertainty in his eyes flashes away as he prattles to Edrisa about the importance of soft scarfs and some science thing but it’s back the second he turns to Dani.

She stretches her hand that’s still gloved, and feels her lips quirk up without her consent. “They’re very warm.”

Malcolm’s smile matches hers. “I’m very committed to making sure everyone stays warm.”

Before she can answer, JT claps Malcolm on the back, wearing his own hat, much more subdued than Malcolm’s.

“Bright, what’s your favorite alcohol.”

The conversation derails until Gil has to heard them into a semblance of productive, and Dani let’s herself get lost in her thoughts once everything settles down.

Malcolm Bright bought her gloves for Christmas, because he knows her hands a perpetually cold. It’s stupidly cute.

She slips the gloves on at the end of the day, and from the corner of her eyes she can see him smile to himself. And this time, when her heart squeezes just a little too tight, she doesn’t ignore it.

xXx

It’s odd, Dani notices, how one second, he can be panicking, and the next, be so exhausted he looks almost peaceful.

His apartment is quiet, except for Sunshine shuffling in the corner and the sound of his breath slowly working its way back to normal. His eyes are closed and the worry has seeped out of his face, and for a second, Dani can forgot that not 10 minutes ago he was in the middle of panic attack.

She’s seen the tremors and been present for some of his outbursts, but she’s never seen him like this.

But he’s calmer now, his breathing back to normal, his hands still in his lap, eyes closed as she watches him from her side of the couch. She was here by accident, dropping off a case file he had forgotten, and things had been okay until he got a phone call. Well, more like 7 phone calls, that he all promptly ignored until said caller started texting, and then it happened. She never had training on how to help someone through a panic attack, but they were here now, on the other side, both still in one piece.

She reaches out and gently presses her fingers against his forehead, one of those moves she inherited from her mom who would do this to her and her siblings no matter what was ailing them as kids.

Malcolm hisses softly, hand snapping up to grab her wrist, not bothering to open his eyes. “I am going to get a restraining order on your hands.”

“Oh, really?”

Malcolm opens a single eye in an attempt to glare at her.

His thumb runs over her pulse point.

Her cheeks may or may not flush.

“Yes. They cannot come within ten inches of me unless thoroughly warmed.”

Dani shifts so she’s slightly closer to him. She doesn’t move her hand. He doesn’t let go of her wrist.

“How do you propose I warm them, Bright. Pretty sure you're the one who decided I have a medical condition.”

He gives her a tight smile, one that if he wasn’t coming down of a panic attack might have been less strained. “I’m glad you asked.” He turns her hand in his and stares at their interlocked fingers instead of her face when he talks.

“You can sit on them. Stuff them in your pockets. Hold a nice cup of very hot tea or coffee for a bit.” Her keeps talking to their hands, but his arm is moving now, twisting her palm so it’s face up. “Blow on them. Or my personal favorite, rub them together.” He says, and then he does just that. He rubs his hands gently over hers for a few second before bringing her hand back up to his cheek.

“Ahh,” Malcolm closes his eyes, and lets go of her hand. “Much better.”

Dani wants to kiss him. It’s impulsive and spells for a disaster, and is definitely not in the “how to care for your friend after a panic attack” manual, but she really, really wants to kiss Malcolm Bright.

She let’s her fingers trail down his cheek, over the day old stubble he has growing and he leans into her touch.

He’s tired. Exhausted. She can see the dark circles under his eyes, and she’s positive if they stay still for long enough, he will fall asleep on her.

“Bright,” Dani says, pulling her hand away from his face. His eyes pop open and he follows her hand as she brings it back other lap. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He blinks, and suddenly he’s a different person. No longer the Malcolm she’s only seen glimpses of, but Bright, the man who shows up to crime scenes with a mask on his face, over compensating in personality for something she hasn’t quite pinned down yet.

“Yeah! I’m great!.” He forces a smile, and when she doesn’t smile back, he cracks. The mask slips off again. He drops his head to the back of the couch. “My sister has been seeing my dad.”

She doesn’t want to push him, so she just sits, listening.

“And he’s, well you know, a serial killer, but he’s so charming and all consuming. I still find myself wondering if I made him proud, which is ridiculous. And Ains, jesus, I though Ainsley was safe from it.” He pauses, dragging his hands down his face. “But that was my mom, calling me. Apparently she hasn’t shown up to work for a few days. Said she needed some time off, but she’s been to see him every single day, and it’s been twenty years, and he’s somehow gotten all of us back to him within a few months of each other. He’s behind bars and locks, and is literally chained to the wall, but he still has us in his grasp, seeking his approval.”

Dani notices his hands are starting to shake.

“I didn’t even know Ains was seeing him. I’ve failed her-“

Dani grabs his hand, and he startles. “Breathe.” She tells him, squeezing his hand until he listens to her. “You’re going to be okay. And I’m sure your sister will too.”

He’s staring at their hands again, and she doesn’t let go until he sighs, slumping back against the couch.

“Thanks, For you know, staying and dealing with all this.” He waves his hand around, and Sunshines chirps at them from her post.

“Anytime. If you need someone to talk to, or to shock you into reality with freezing hands.” She smiles at him, before pushing herself off the couch. She knows a dismissal when she hears it. “You have my number. Do you need help with the night terror locks?”

Malcolm smiles, a real, true smile, One that betrays his exhaustion, edging slightly on delirious.

“No. I think I got those myself. Thank you, though.”

“Don’t mention it.” She grabs her coat and says goodbye to Sunshine, pulling on her gloves before she turns to say goodbye to him.

“Powell,” Malcolm says, pushing himself off the couch as he moves toward his bed. “I mean it about your hands.”

Dani rolls her eyes at him. “Goodnight, Bright.”

xXx

She’s not sure how they got here.

Well, she is. Sort of. Vaguely.

They were on the train. It’s so late, it’s early, but they closed a huge case, and Gil broke out the very good, very special whiskey, and then they were taking the same train home.

And Malcolm decided to stand even though there was only like 5 other people in the car, so she stands with him for solidarity or companionship or whatever. And she’s been a New Yorker since the day she was born, riding subways before she even took her first steps, but even she is not immune to the sudden jerks of the train.

Which leads to her crashing into Malcolm, and Malcolm oh so valiantly grabbing her waist to steady her, which leads to her oh so causally not stepping away from him.

Which somehow, eventually led to this. His lips on hers as she falls against the door of her apartment.

Dani is not sure how they got here, but she does not want it to end.

His lips are soft and warm, and her heart is doing literal jumping jacks, and she doesn’t want this moment to end, ever.

But she also doesn’t know how to let it continue. This is still Malcolm, who might be kissing her, but his one hand is still decidedly on her waist, the other pushing into the wood of her door. His hands haven’t moved. And she desperately wants to let her hands travel to the front of his jacket and start undoing the buttons, to relieve him of at least one of his million layers, but this is Malcolm and she doesn’t want to push him too hard. She doesn’t want to cross his boundary line and push them back into a place that doesn’t lead to this.

To him kissing her and her trying to stop herself from smiling so she doesn’t accidentally bite his lip.

He pulls back, breathing hard, and it takes all her willpower to not grab his face and pull his mouth back to hers.

He would probably complain that her hands are too cold.

“Hi,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. He’s got the look in his eyes like they just got a case, but he’s looking at her like she’s a puzzle he desperately wants to solve.

“Hi,” she says back, but it’s more of a sigh than an actual word.

“This okay?”

They’ve know each other for over a year know, and she considers them friends, but this is the most uncertain she’s ever heard him sound. And they’ve been through a whole lot of shit together.

Dani nods. “Totally.” She drags her teeth over her bottom lip, and Malcolm swallows hard. “You okay?”

Malcolm blinks, and his cheeks flush pink

She wants to kiss him again. She wants him to move his hands.

“Totally.”

Slowly, she reaches up, dropping one of her hands on his shoulder, the other coming to rest just below the collar of his shirt.

“Restraining order,” he teases, voice hoarse. Before she can roll her eyes and kiss him again, he grabs her hands and brings her fingers up to him mouth, gently blowing over them.

It’s intimate in a way that makes her knees weak. He’s going to be the death of her.

“Malcolm.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to her fingers. She uses her free hand to open the first button of his vest and his ice clear eyes snap up to hers.

“Dani.”

She pops the second button, and his lip quirks up. She wants to kiss the corner of this mouth. So she does.

She slides her hand to the back of his neck, and he hisses when hers finger brush against his skin, but then he’s kissing her again.

And Dani doesn’t know where this is going, or really how they got here, but for right now, in this moment, she’s good.

They can figure everything else out later.

She snaps the final button of his vest.

His catches her lip on his teeth.

Yeah, she decides. They can figure it out later.

[petersmparker]

Such is Life (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter takes a bit of a day off to spend some time with the girl he loves.

Word Count: 1628

A/N: just a quick little drabble because i literally cannot get snuggling out of my touch-starved hell brain (although this isn’t even that snuggly smh). listen, I’m already 2/3 starting fics with Peter getting rained on while being spider-man so when do i get to declare that My Thing?

Despite the storm occurring across much of New York City, the air is warm with midsummer comfort, and Peter Parker finds that he doesn’t mind getting soaked nearly as much as he normally would have. The rain is hard and the wind a bit strong, but the sky is kindly devoid of thunder and lightning. With the weather’s almost-blessing, he had taken to the streets in his regular routine of patrolling as Spider-Man. By now, it’s been about two and a half hours since he had departed his apartment through his bedroom window. In that time he’d stopped no muggings, prevented no break ins, and gotten soaked to the bone in the downpour. Crime didn’t want to go outdoors today, apparently.

He’s taking a couple seconds of rest on top of the community center in Hell’s Kitchen when Karen’s voice breaks through the sound of rain and city noise.

You should head home, Peter, she suggests with a tone not dissimilar from that of a caretaker, Being out in the rain for extended periods of time can weaken your immune system and put you at risk of illness.

Peter lifts his arms to examine the red fabric, darkened with the moisture. “I was kind of enjoying it,” he responds, “But you���re probably right. I’ll head in. Thanks, Karen.”

You’re welcome.

He figures that Karen has a point-- even if today’s weather had been providing an odd kind of delightful discomfort, as if he was in a sun-heated pool fully clothed. The clock situated on the face of the building across the road, however, informs him that it’s still a whole lot earlier than he would typically turn in. Which would mean that today is the first time in a while he’d be able to spend the day with you.

Suddenly motivated to be done for the day, Peter makes his way across Midtown West toward Queens. His apartment building appears in his view after a good few minutes, but he passes his own fire escape and swings around to the other side of the building. The clothing that hangs from your little clothesline drip onto the metal floor of the fire escape, and Peter can’t help but smile when he sees them. Your window is open, allowing the rain to blow in onto your windowsill. As he climbs through, pulling off his mask, he’s quick to give you a humoured look.

“Your clothes aren’t quite dry yet. I checked,” he says, reaching up to release his suit and begin peeling it off his moistened skin.

You’re at your desk, a thin blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a movie playing on your laptop. You suck air in through your teeth, eyebrows raising, as you say, “Yeah, I forgot to bring them in again. Decided there was no point in bothering now. You’re done for the day, right?”

“Yep,” Peter agrees, as he goes about closing the window behind him and turning out his suit, “Not much going on. Normally would have spotted a few things by now, but it’s pretty lazy out there. So, I thought I would come in early for once. Spend some time with my girl.”

He pads across the room to your closet and puts his suit on an empty hanger to dry, before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple.

“Karen told you to go home, didn’t she?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” he admits.

“I knew it,” you laugh, poking his side, “You would have stayed out there all day.”

When Peter hugs you from behind, he’s still very much wet from being outside. His hair drips onto your cheek when he curls into you. Despite the discomfort of having the water run down your skin, his presence has immediately harkened a shift in your mood. You feel softer, warmer, sleepier. Peter is like a cushy pillow or a fuzzy blanket; he’s returning to your own bed after a week away from home. It’s impossible not to melt into him.

“I might’ve stayed out there,” he contends, “but I would have been thinking about being here.”

He turns his head to press a kiss to your neck, and you reach up brush a hand through his hair. “Uh huh,” you murmur, “Go dry off, you’re gonna soak my whole room.”

Peter laughs, but does as he’s told. “A bold accusation coming from the person who left the window open during a storm,” he teases, searching through the bottom drawer of your dresser for a dry pair of his boxers and sleep clothes.

“I like the sound,” you defend, “Only the sill is wet, anyway.”

You watch as he continues to crouch in front of the dresser to search through the drawer. His skin gleams a bit as the string lights hanging around your room reflect off the moisture. He’s a bit too beautiful for your heart to handle.

“Where’s my Midtown sweatshirt?” Peter asks, dropping a pair of boxers onto the floor next to him.

“I’m wearing it.”

Peter glances up at you. “Oh. You are,” he confirms, “What’s wrong with your own?”

“I’m sure mine is doing just fine, thank you. I’ll let it know you asked.”

He comes back over to bend down and give you a kiss, grinning. “Yeah, alright,” he humors you, grabbing the bottom of the sweatshirt to pull it off of your body, “My turn with the sweatshirt now. Wear my decathalon one from last year. It’s too tight around my arms.”

You allow him to take back his property, but voice your support of him perhaps going shirtless. The fact that he continues into the bathroom without even responding elicits a delighted giggle from you. Though you can’t see his face, you know all too well the expression he wears; faintly pinked cheeks and an exaggerated roll of the eyes. Such is the nature of your and Peter’s flirting.

Each teasing comment or joking touch, which at one time served to fuel your high-energy honeymoon stage, has matured in the year and a half you’ve been dating. In the most positive way, your relationship has become a routine.You know that this is something that a lot of couples try to avoid, but with Peter, there’s nothing better to be hoped for. He’s unpredictable, he’s busy, and the world around him has a tendency to get messy. Despite this, your dynamic is forever the same. You adore it. You adore the familiarity.

You adore Peter.

Peter takes his time toweling off his body and hair in the bathroom before he pulls on the clean set of clothes, and returns to find that you’ve put on the grey decathalon sweatshirt as suggested. You’ve left your desk to sprawl out on your bed on your stomach, legs kicking absently behind you. You’re scrolling through your phone and haven’t noticed him, so he takes the opportunity to just look at you.

As time passes, the amount of time Peter gets to spend in your company lessens. With the increasing difficulty of your school lives as you begin to prepare for college, and Peter’s ever-consistent commitment to operating as the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man (in addition to some extra responsibilities occasionally passed down by the Avengers). . . there is less and less time for you to appreciate one another face to face. The love is still there, of course. The affection Peter holds in his heart hasn’t dimmed a bit since the day you first exchanged “I love you”s-- and he’s found that, perhaps, it’s gotten a bit brighter.

Peter does all he can to find time for you, and yet, doesn’t feel the need to punish himself when he simply can’t manage. You’re the pinnacle of understanding and encouragement. The point which he gravitates around. The apartment across the hall may be the place where he lives, but you are his home.

“What’s up, space cadet?”

When you look over your shoulder and call out to Peter, he’s shaken out of his thoughts. The teasing smile that graces your features is a familiar one. This isn’t the first time he’s drifted off like this.

“I think I miss you,” he professes.

Despite the laugh that escapes your lips, your expression softens. Peter responds immediately when you beckon him over to the bed. It’s old hat the way he settles into the left side of your bed, pillow still situated the way he’d left it nearly two nights ago. You don’t sleep on that side of the bed anymore, whether or not he’s there. He rests his head on his arm and uses the other to pull you closer. You pet your thumb across the skin of his cheekbones, coaxing him further into the comfort of the space.

“You’ve been busy lately,” you start, voice delicate, “I’ve been a bit busy too.”

Peter reaches out to pull you forward by the back of your head. The caress of his lips against yours is soft, but a bit needy. For several long moments you’re suspended in time, attentive to nothing more in the world than the gentle press of Peter’s lips, the tangle of his fingers in your hair, and the movement of his body as he shifts to hover slightly over you.

“I kind of hate being busy sometimes,” he sighs once the world starts turning again, lips still brushing against yours.

“That’s just how life is, Pete,” you respond, once Peter pulls fully away to lie back down, “We’re going to be occupied, and then eventually we won’t be. But we’re here. It’s still us. It’ll always be us at the end of the day.”

When Peter envelopes you in a hug, there’s something about it that feels very much like a ‘thank you’.

“That’s all that I need.”

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝unintentional rendezvous.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku ]

「An anti-villain, you obtain some information by infiltrating UA but pull back when you find that it’s no easy feat. Just then, you run into Midoriya who was out for a run. And from then on, the two of you always meet up.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

It was on the night that Midoriya decided to go on a run around the campus before curfew. The street was well lit as he jogged, considering how late it was when he decided to go out for a jog, there's barely anyone out here. He had decided to stay within the area instead of running off elsewhere. He had stopped right in front of the school building, the gates were closed but the lights were bright. As he stood there, he began to recall everything that he had gone through. From the day he received his quirk from All Might to this very day, he never thought he'd be blessed with the ability to save people and become a hero. The area around UA was relatively safe, Midoriya couldn't hear anything but the quiet chirping of insects.

The night was chilly and soothing against his skin, making him sigh as it helped cool him down from all that running. Internships were right around the corner and he was looking forward to be in action. He hoped that all his training paid off. He was about to take off and sprint back to the dorms to end his work out when he felt something change in the air. It's subtle but he could hear fluttering noises nearby. Midoriya was about to ignore the noise until he saw a figure leaping over the tall walls that surrounded UA, his entire body was pushed downwards and the weight on top of him caused him to groan.

"Heavy....." he complained.

"Ah, how rude! How can you say that, I, your local pretty girl, heavy?" the owner of the voice sounded really offended by his words. His whole body stiffened and it reacted faster than he can question your identity. A million thoughts raced inside his head and the only thing that he managed to ask was,

"Are you a villain?!" he attempted to land a kick but you got off, landing away from the green-haired male. At this moment, he got up and examined your figure but there was nothing much he could make out anyway. Dressed in pitch black clothes and away from the light, he was unable to see until you stepped back, the light shining on you. He could see your eyes and your hair, [Eye Color] and [Hair Color]. Covering half of your face was a gas mask and atop your head was a hat that the numbers 69 stitched on it.

"Hmm, an interesting question indeed! I have never committed any crimes before so therefore, I am not one! But tell me, UA's first year, what is your definition of a villain anyway?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Midoriya was alert, ready for any sudden movements you decide to pull but honestly, you wouldn't stoop that low to hide yourself. Your plan to sneak into UA to obtain some information had failed and now you're face to face with a student who has a quirk that might be able to get you captured. Instead of making any wild movements, you chose to smile at the male, raising your hands in surrender. Even if he brings you to the police station, he has no evidence of what you did. So, you were calm. You studied his appearance and instantly remembered who he was just from his face alone. UA students were really popular and you've seen them from various media.

"Hm, Midoriya Izuku right?"

"How―"

"Come on, it should be obvious right? The Sports Festival is aired on TV, you know? And the news spread pretty fast nowadays that its scary." you laughed, waving your hand.

"So, what were you doing in the middle of the night at UA?"

"I heard from someone that there's tons of information about various things that I really need to know and well, the security is super tight. So I thought maybe I can just get information through another method." you said casually, leaning against the wall. It took Midoriya just a few seconds to piece your words together but he wasn't able to figure out your intentions.

"You can't just infiltrate the school like that!"

"I withdrew so it's not a big deal right?"

‘No, it is actually a big deal! Infiltrating is a crime!’ He was at lost, unsure of what he was supposed to do in this situation. Sure he had his license and can actually explain himself if a fight breaks out. But he had no proof that you were actually trying to break into the school to obtain a piece of information that he didn't question you about yet. You didn't commit any crime and completely innocent, it would be false accusation and the police might put him in the blacklist, it will surely affect his reputation in the future. But was it really okay to let you off the hook?

"Anyway, it's time for me to go home!"

"Eh!? Go home?"

"Cute guys like you shouldn't stay out too late!" you winked, giggling at the way his face turned bright red, mouth hanging open and unable to form any words to respond.

"C-Cute!?" he squawked in disbelief.

"Goodbye, Izukun!"

He can't keep up with you and he just prays that you're gonna drop the idea of infiltrating UA.

The next day, Midoriya felt a bit worried. You still looked younger, probably around his age. He was unable to sleep that well, worried about what you were going to do next. There were tons of things he wanted to question you but he had no opportunity to do so when you just bolted off. Throughout the entire day, he was too occupied with the thoughts of you. With the way you were talking, it sounded like you had given up but he can't be so sure of that. There's still a chance that you might try again today, maybe tomorrow or even the day after that. What if you continue this behavior until you get whatever you need?

You didn't come off as a bad person but Midoriya assumed that it might be because you were joking the entire time. He even got carried away and unconsciously followed your pace. The entire time he took notes while listening to the teacher's explanation, he can't help but think about you. And the only time he managed to shake his thoughts was during training. But afterwards, he was thinking about it again. Some of his friends caught on to his absent-minded behavior and questioned it, only to be waved off and told that he was fine.

When night time came, he was out for a jog again, going through the same route. Around the dorms and the campus. He slowed down his pace when he passed UA, Midoriya stopped at the spot he met you, more like crashed into you yesterday. Like the other days he went jogging at night, it was quiet with the wind tickling his skin. Standing still on the spot with thoughts plaguing his mind, he wondered if you were going to come again. Just as he was about to make his leave, he heard a voice behind him. A familiar voice that caused him to stop completely.

"Oh, its you again. Out for a run again, huh? Who you trying to impress?" you chuckled. This time you weren't wearing a gas mask but a mask that he's seen countless of times, the ones that people use to hide their identities.

"E-E-Eh? A-Ah, I'm not—"

"I was just joking! You get flustered so easily that it's cute." you giggled, stepping closer to the male who stepped back instinctively. Different from yesterday, you were wearing casual clothes, a black, long-sleeved hoodie with a blue-green plaid skirt.

"Why are you here?" Midoriya decided to ask, gathering his courage. This time, he was determined to get you to fess up and give him the answers he's been wanting to hear.

"Is it a crime to be out on the streets? I pass by UA on my way home." you pointed at your path home. Midoriya looked at you with eyes filled with doubt. You couldn't blame him, it was natural for him to be wary of you since you did attempt to infiltrate UA to get information. So his impression of you is a bit muddled and fuzzy, but he must be confused of what you actually are. Were you a bad person or a good person? There was one thing you were sure of was that you've never killed a person before. 

"Did you purposely stopped here because you're waiting for me?" there was a hint of playfulness in your voice when you booped his nose with a smile. The action startled him and gave you the opportunity to slip past him. Midoriya turned around, about to stop you when he noticed the grocery bag you were carrying. Perhaps you weren't lying about going back home.

"I told you that I gave up on infiltrating UA. Wouldn't want to get caught. I can obtain my information using another method anyway." you chuckled before walking away, waving your hand at him.

"How can I believe your words!?" Midoriya raised his voice which stopped you for a moment. 

"You can't. Because there's no one you can truly trust in this world. But, can you truly attack someone who has done nothing wrong?" you challenged. Midoriya bit his lip. You were speaking the truth and he can't deny it.

"Well, if you think I'm a bad person. There should be someone out there to stop me. I mean there's Heroes everywhere. Also, there are people like you too. Aspiring heroes who want to keep the world safe."

"Bad guys like me get punished while good kids like you get rewarded. But, if it's you, I don't mind getting caught and receive punishment." you winked flirtatiously and swaying your hips.

"Wha―?!"

A few days had passed and every night on weekdays, he'd run into you in the night. He still can't help the unreadiness that forms when he speaks to you but after a while, he deduced that you weren't actually a really bad person. But the way you were doing things was a bit wrong. Midoriya has seen you once in the streets. It was in an alleyway where no one was looking and he originally wanted to use it to get to the other street faster. He hid behind the large trash disposal and peeked to see what was going on.

You were standing tall in front of three men who were armed with guns, hands inside your pockets. Like every single time he saw you, a mask took its place on your face, covering half of it. You had stepped closer, until your forehead was pressed against the tip of the gun, daring the man to shoot. There was an aura of confidence radiating out of you when you said something about how they can't kill you. Though it sounded cocky as hell, those words were backed up with actions. True to your words, they were all defeated by your quirk. And you instantly asked for information, even going as far as to threaten them if they refuse to fess up.

Midoriya walked away when he noticed that you had left the scene. If you were a villain, you would've killed them off right? But that doesn't change the fact that you had threatened people. The weekend was a slow one, he slept more than usual, finished most of his homework together with his friends. When he returned to his room, it was just before dinner time. He decided to change his clothes and set down his things. The balcony door was left open, the air making his curtains sway.

"For a plain-looking guy, you sure have a nice body."

An all too familiar voice that made him freeze.

There you stood on his balcony, dressed in comfortable looking clothes which consist of shorts and a t-shirt. You smirked behind your face mask, looking up and down his exposed chest, right hand rubbing your chin. Midoriya's face turned bright red and instinctively covered his chest before slipping his shirt on.

"Wh-What are you doing here!? This is trespassing!" he spluttered as you casually stepped into his room, looking at every single little thing that caught your attention.

"Oh! An All Might fan huh? You sure have a lot of his merch. Oh, there's the limited edition poster! I'm jealous. He's an amazing person, wasn't he?" you beamed.

"He is! All Might is the best―That's not it! You're trespassing!"

"But it's not trespassing when no one finds me! Besides, I checked to make sure that your neighbors didn't see me~" you moved back to the balcony. He doesn't even know where to start. Sure the two have you been meeting up coincidentally in front of UA at night but for you to come here was surprising. How did you even slip through the surveillance? 

"The one on that side sure had a bright room, it looked like he was partying or something but there's no one! On the other hand, that side is a bit....unsightly if you ask me but the room was vacant as well!" you shrugged. Ah, you must be talking about Mineta. The moment he was about to protest, a knock resounded in his room and he turned his attention towards the door.

"Hey, Midoriya! You talking with someone?" It was Kirishima.

"No one!" he quickly replied before turning towards you.

"Please leave!" he whispered at you.

"Ah, you're defending me, I feel so honored. But I guess it will be bad for you to be caught with a girl inside your room at night. Hm, now what are you going to do, Izukun?" you giggled, twirling in your spot. Just as he was about to shoot back a response, the door handle shook before it opened.

"Yo, Midoriya! We got some pizza! Come before everyone finishes it!" This time it was Kaminari who burst in. The look on the green head was unbelievable, just like a teenage boy who was caught masturbating or something along those lines. The two males rose their eyebrows at their friend's peculiar behavior. They've seen you and now he had to come up with a proper reason that they will buy.

"The weather is a bit chilly to keep the balcony open don't you think? You should keep it closed." the blonde pointed. Midoriya's head perked up and immediately turned to see no trace of you. Did you leave? Or used your quirk to hide? Whatever happened, he was grateful that you decided to hide yourself from his friends.

"What's up with you? You look like you had seen a ghost." Kaminari asked.

"N-Nothing!"

"Bro, you can't just barge into someone else's room like that." Kirishima said, Kaminari chuckled softly and apologized to the viridian haired male.

"Hm? I could've sworn that I heard someone's voice just now. Were you talking on the phone?"

"Y-Yeah! It was on speaker so....."

"Anyways, you better come down before we run out of pizza!" Kaminari said before leaving with Kirishima.

"I'll be down soon!" he replied, waiting for the door to close before dashing to the balcony. He glanced around and saw no trace of you, did you seriously run off that fast? Midoriya stepped closer to the edge and looked down, jumping from the second floor shouldn't be a problem and there were a few ways to get out.

"How cute, you're looking for me!" he instantly turned around, a squeak slipping past his lips when he found himself standing face to face with you but what surprised him was the fact that you were hanging upside down like it was nothing. You leaned forward, nose brushing against his before maneuvering yourself until you were standing at the edge, balancing yourself before turning towards the male with a smile. Midoriya backed up a little.

"So you are worried about me, I'm flattered."

"That's not it!" Midoriya protested.

"I'll be borrowing this from you." you waved a slightly worn-out book in front of him.

"My Hero Analysis Book.....!"

"I'll be sure to return it tomorrow so don't worry! Until then, this is goodbye." you waved before falling backward. The boy chased after you and looked down but there was no trace of you. It wasn't a really important book, it was one that he had completed. For some reason, he couldn't find it in him to stop you.

And he actually wants to see you again.

Total: 2765 words Published: 18.09.2019

We’re now open to requests for Kimetsu no Yaiba! Please have a look before requesting!

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ We had fun writing this but we but a bit too much effort on this so we hope you enjoy this scenario! We actually have a quirk in mind when we typed this but we held back.― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! Put extra effort when thinking about how reader meets up with Midoriya. Hopefully, the secnario itself isn’t that confusing and hard to follow. ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.