#the text is usually a really really light yellow (almost white) (the colour in my pfp)

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

Your blog description is very hard to read cuz of the colors, could you tell me if your requests are open or closed?

Hi! I've tried to change the colours so many times but Tumblr is being a massive pain, so I do apologise for that! Anyways, requests are closed. Turns out (as always) that I cannot be trusted to get the work done :sob:. But thank you for asking!

[hearthotchner]

flowers, petnames, and, apologies

— inspired by this post, which was prompted by a tiktok sound

walking into the bullpen, derek morgan couldn’t help but notice the person delivering a large bouquet of flowers, “woah woah woah, who are these for?” he asked, assuming they were for one of his female co-workers.

“um.. a mr aaron hotchner?”

derek’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and his jaw dropped, just before the expression was replaced with a mischievous smirk, “let me take this off your hands, i’ll give ‘em to him.”

after bidding the delivery man a thank you and goodbye, derek carefully placed it onto his empty desk; almost immediately, his coworkers surrounded him, intrigued by the colourful array of flowers that lay on his desk.

the bouquet wasn’t overwhelmingly bright, yet it wasn’t void of hues either. they were light, soft, pastel colours — easy on the eyes — majorly white, but with splashes of light yellows, baby pinks and reds dotted around, with, just a hint of blue.

“do you know who they’re from?” penelope’s voice piped up.

before morgan could respond, he was cut off by reid, “most likely a partner. did you guys know that lily of the valley actually represents new beginnings, which is why they’re used for various occasions: weddings, baby showers. and, the blue hyacinths show a desire to make peace — they’re apology flowers, the colours are those usually used to display remorse.” his voice got higher as he got more excited about the topic, “oh! and roses are typically used for a romantic partner, and are normally pink or red; in this instance they’re yellow, and there’s a lot of them, meaning they’re likely to be his favourites.”finally taking in the bewildered looks of his colleagues, the young genius smiled sheepishly at them, quickly shutting himself up.

“you look way too far into things, reid.” derek rolled his eyes, “they’re probably just an early valentine.”

“there’s a note.” jj pointed out — it was hidden inbetween a couple roses.

as derek reached for it, penelope scolded him, “hey! stop messing it up! we really shouldn’t be snooping, you know he likes his privacy.” she frowned, attempting to remain mature, “but i wanna know so badly- be careful!” she lightly smacked his arm.

with confidence that he was right, derek flipped the note over to read it out loud; the smirk wiped off his face at the first two words he saw, “i’m sorry.” he read in annoyance, while glaring at spencer — but nothing could prepare any of them for the next words,

“miss you pookie bear?”

—

meanwhile, said pookie bear was sat at his desk, paying no mind to what was going on in the bullpen, with his head in his hands: your argument from the night before being the only thing he could think about.

—

“this is the third time you’ve done this, aaron.”disappointment evident in your voice.

“i know, i’m sorry.” there were his empty apologies, “i got caught up at work, i lose track of time.” and his pathetic attempts to excuse his negligence of your relationship.

“but you always do this, you’re never here. you never text, or call, and i’m waiting up until 12 in the morning for you.”

“look, we’ll talk about it in the morning, i’m tired.” he sighed.

“we won’t, because you’ll be gone before i wake up.” you were telling the truth — that’s exactly what he did the next morning, left for work without saying a word.

he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, “you knew what it was going to be like when we started dating, you said you could handle it. my job is demanding.”

rightfully so, you were becoming upset, “not for paperwork! i understand that you get called away abruptly, and i love that you value other peoples lives before your own — it’s why i fell in love with you.” you smiled at him softly, although, it wasn’t for long. “but, i’m talking about when you’re cooped up in the office for so long, there’s no reason for you to be staying there for that much time, after everyone else has left.”

then, everything went quiet for a bit, with you waiting for him to provide some sort of explanation, and when you didn’t get that, you continued, “i just think… if you had to choose between me or your job, you’d pick your job with no hesitation.”

the lack of response caused your face to fall, “i’m sleeping in the guest room tonight, aaron.”

he should’ve done something, anything. instead, he ran away, avoided you like a coward, using his office as a place to seek refuge from taking accountability for his actions.

one time, you told him he was bravest man you ever knew — he almost laughed at how wrong you were.

history was repeating itself. you were his second chance at love, and he was making the same old mistakes, that cost him his family. aaron thought he had changed, swore to himself that he’d never do something like this again. but, here he was, having someone waiting at home, willing to drop anything for him, yet he wouldn’t do the same.

picking up his phone, he dialled your number.

it rang out for a minute, before going to voicemail — he hoped you were just busy, and weren’t already walking out of his life.

“hey,” he breathed “i wanted to say i’m sorry, for last night, this morning.. everything really. i shouldn’t have left, and i should’ve said something.” closing his eyes, he stopped himself from rambling, because you deserved to hear it in person, “i’ll be home soon, and we can talk.. please call me back.” please don’t leave me. “i love you.”

hurriedly gathering his things, aaron walked out of his office; path coming to a stop when he saw his team staring at him, all looking a little smug. a puzzled look found it’s way onto the unit chiefs face.

“hey there snookums.” derek grinned.

aaron quirked a brow, frown deepening, “what?”

stifling a giggle, emily gestured to the bouquet, “someone sent you flowers.”

knowing exactly who sent them, he swiftly excused himself to set it up in his office.

when he read the note, he felt his lips curve up slightly, and he jokingly huffed at the petname — you always loved making him blush and laugh with the obscure names you’d come up with for him.

but, why were you apologising? you did nothing wrong. it should’ve been him doing this, not you.

right as his thoughts began to spiral, they were interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.

“hi, aaron! did you get my gift?” hearing the sweet sound of your voice, so excited and happy to speak to him, brought a sense of relief over him.

rough hands slowly reached over to feel the soft yellow rose petals. “yeah, i did. thank you.” his brows tilted upwards, guilt kicking in again, “why are you saying sorry?”

“‘cause, i shouldn’t have accused you of choosing your job over me, it wasn’t right to push that on you-”

were you out of your mind?

“sweetheart, please stop.” he begged. “you haven’t done anything wrong. telling me how you feel isn’t wrong — telling me that i’m not doing enough isn’t wrong. we need to tell each other these things.” he shut down your attempts to put yourself at unnecessary fault. “i know i haven’t been around lately, but i’m gonna change that. i promise. i want to be deserving of your love, (y/n).”

“you already are, aaron.” you whispered.

“i’m leaving now, so i’ll talk to you at home. i have a bunch of free days to use, and we have lost time to make up for.” he smiled.

closing the door behind him for a second time, aaron scanned the room, his team no longer huddled in one spot, now at their desks; still deep in a conversation he didn’t care that much for.

the bullpen fell silent at the sight of him with his briefcase and keys in his hand, shocked that he was leaving early — not even on time.

morgan, of course, was the first to talk, “where’re you off to in such a hurry honeybunny?” snickering at his own joke.

“don’t make me flag you for creating a hostile work environment, derek.”

“that’s not funny!”

[immabethehero]

Marvin’s MegaBirthday Story

Guess who made a Megamind AU with Marvin as the title character?

Here’s a quick list of characters so you won’t get confused about who’s who:

Marvin, The Malevolent Magician - Megamind

Dr. Schneeplestein, the Doctor - Minion, but human

The Brighton Shepherd - Metro Man

Jackieboy Man, the Red Marauder - Sidekick to the Shepherd, original role of sorts

Chase Brody, news reporter - Roxanne Ritchi

Anthony/Anti - Hal Stewart, without the creepy simping

CW: Police brutality, hints of starvation, strangulation and mentions of electrocution

It was a glorious day in Brighton City. Even the weather seemed aware of it as the sun shone down brightly on the silver skyscrapers and the brand new museum built into the city square.

 To celebrate the city’s greatest superhero, the grand, new museum had been dedicated to the city’s greatest hero: The Brighton Shepherd. In between the two buildings was a giant curtain, hiding a 55 foot statue for the superhero.

Reporters came to the site as early as 6 am before the crowds could roll in. Among them was the up-and-coming journalist, Chase Brody, who ran the news vlog: “Just Your Average Report”. Wearing a brand new grey and white suit to honour the Shepherd’s signature colour, Chase did vocal warm-ups while his cameraman, Anthony, set up the equipment. Unlike Chase, who had dressed handsomely for the occasion, Anthony simply wore a graphic t-shirt and a fishing vest with blue jeans. Chase tried not to let that get to him. In all the fifteen months he’d known Anthony, Chase had never seen the man wear anything other than graphic tees and the fishing vest. Today obviously wasn’t much different to Anthony.

“We’re on!” Anthony said. Chase held up his microphone in time for the camera light to turn red; he exclaimed, “Happy Brighton Shepherd Day, Brighton City! It’s a beautiful day in our  beautiful downtown, where we’re here to honour a beautiful man: The Brighton Shepherd. His heart is as big as an ocean that’s inside a bigger ocean. For years, he’s been watching us with his super-vision, saving us with his super strength, and caring for us with his super heart. Now, it’s our turn to give something back! This is Chase Brody, reporting live from the dedication of the Brighton Shepherd Museum.”

Chase signaled to Anthony, who snorted as he turned the camera off.

“Damn, the stuff the producers make you read nowadays is incredibly cheesy. Have you considered writing your own stuff?”

“I have. That was one of my pieces,” Chase said with a grin. He reveled in Anthony’s look of horror.

“I mean… I can’t believe that in our modern day society, they let… actual art get onto the news,” Anthony stammered out.

“Nice save, Anthony.”

“Cool. Can we go get a coffee now?”

“Come on, it’s time to get into the Brighton Shepherd Day spirit!” Chase said, nudging his coworker.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Please. If the Brighton Shepherd really was all that great, he’d be able to properly protect you from the Malevolent and his crazy Doctor. For someone who gets kidnapped and rescued all the time, you sure don’t have good security.”

Chase sighed. This debate again. “I mean, it’s good for my channel! I get to film bits and pieces of the Malevolent’s laboratory! Great publicity.”

“You take too many chances with that man, I swear. What happens if the Malevolent snaps and gets violent with you? The Shepherd and his sidekick won’t be there to protect you. You could die, Chase.”

“The Malevolent won’t hurt me. If he truly wanted to, he would have done so the first time he kidnapped me,” Chase snapped. “If anything, he just wants me for more publicity. I am a popular news source.”

“Yeah? Well, they don’t always strike at first sight, Lois Lane. The dude might be waiting for the perfect moment to torture you,” Anthony continued. “I mean, even if he doesn’t invent the machines, his sidekick is smart enough to make them! I swear that man has seen some stuff and wants to inflict it on the city.”

“The Malevolent and Doctor never want to torture. Their machines may look scary at first, but they’re useless. They only want to scare.”

Anthony began loading up the truck. “You’re too trusting.The Malevolent Magician has the power to mutilate and kill in ways your “friendship-is-magic” brain could never comprehend. The Doctor is no better. They’re both just waiting to strike. Once they do, the Shepherd’s presence won’t feel so reassuring, hm?”

Anthony had his back turned long enough for Chase to feel a cold presence beside him. The smell of gas flooded his senses. The reporter turned to hear a window roll down, though he didn’t see a car. Odd.

Instead a white plague doctor mask glared back at him. Chase groaned. Here he thought he might be able to avoid being kidnapped and used as leverage by the Malevolent Magician. Apparently not! The Malevolent’s sidekick, simply known as the Doctor, was here to claim his damsel in distress. 

The Doctor raised a spray bottle and squirted it directly in Chase’s face. Chase barely had time to scream as a sudden drowsiness overtook him and the whole world went dark.

*

Step one was complete. The annoying vlogger was in the back of the van. With that accomplished, it was time to pick up the villain. Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, known to the city as the sidekick to the Malevolent Magician, drove through the busy town square and out of the main city.

The prison where the Malevolent lay was outside of town in a secluded location, or rather, in the middle of the highway leading into the city. Despite its odd location, the security was incredible. 200 security officers patrolled the site, with at least three officers supervising a special room under intense lock and key. The Malevolent himself was usually locked in large chains that only unlocked at certain times, or if Mal had behaved himself for a certain amount of time.

Schneep arrived to see the prison in chaos. Sirens blared loud enough to burst a person’s eardrums while police ran into the grey building, yelling to each other and pulling out their guns.

Amid all the chaos stood a man with a thick white moustache, standing in front of the large electrical gates, The man held up his wrist enough for Schneep to spy a silver watch on his wrist and sighed in relief. The watch had worked.

“Well, hello, good looking. Need a ride?” Schneep said, opening the door.

“Always, my dear doctor!” the man said as he hopped in. He slammed the door closed as Schneep slammed his foot on the gas and flew off.

The man twisted the watch’s case and transformed back into Malevolent. The supervillain turned to Schneep with an evil grin. “Nice job sending me the watch, Doctor! Let’s ride!”

“As you wish, my Wickedness!” Schneep yelled.

The maltreatment Mal received from the prison was not lost on the doctor. His sharp cheekbones were grimy and more pronounced, and his wrists were almost skeletal. Dark shadows hung below his eyes, and it was not from eyeliner. Schneep held back a sad sigh. Thank goodness he left a snack for Mal when they returned to the evil lair. That part could be solved.

*

Back at Brighton City Square, the show was ready to begin. As city officials made their speeches, two superheroes waited behind a painted brick wall to make an entrance.

The illustrious Brighton Shepherd fixed his mask and combed his dark brown hair back. Beside him was his sidekick: the Red Marauder, clad in red, green, and blue leather. Marauder kept peeking behind the wall.

“Malevolent is safe behind bars as of right now, you can relax, Jackie,” Shepherd said, rubbing his protégé’s back.

“I can’t find Chase!” Marauder whispered back. “I’ve scanned the crowds three times and there’s no sign of his face.”

“Perhaps he’s stuck in traffic?” Shepherd said, smoothing out the creases in Marauder’s blue cape. His sidekick really needed to learn how to take care of himself.

“He would have sent me a text if that had happened,” Marauder said with a sigh.

“Went for a cup of coffee with Anthony?”

Marauder turned to the crowd. “Anthony is currently eating a donut by one of the food vendors. I think Malevolent and the Doctor kidnapped Chase again!” His eyes filled with tears.

The Shepherd sighed and put a hand on Marauder’s shoulder. “Okay, when the mayor does her speech, we’ll do a quick speedrun through town. He can’t be far. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back.”

Marauder nodded, blinking back tears. No time to cry when there’s a battle.

“Shepherd? It’s time,” an employee whispered. The Brighton Shepherd cracked his neck.

“Show time, baby.” He punched the painted brick wall concealing him, creating a perfect hole. “Alright, put your hands in the air!” he yelled to the crowd.

*

The lair lit up as the car entered and parked in its appointed place. Marvin threw the door open and breathed in the familiar smell of the evil, abandoned, Monster Munch snack factory. A long time ago, it smelled of moldy cheese puffs and rat manure, but now it smelled of malevolence, metal, and a whole lot of cologne.

No matter how many times he arrived, the sweet scent always relaxed the supervillain after a hard day in jail or fighting the Shepherd. “Oh Doc, there’s no place like our evil lair!”

“I’ve kept it cold and damp, just the way you like it!” Schneep said, hauling the sleeping Chase out of the car.

A swarm of tiny robots flew over to Marvin, their engines whirring with delight. The model was a small purple circle with four robotic legs that could grip and lift up to 1,000 pounds. Of course, each had cat ears attached to the sides of their heads and a cat tail at the back. The CATs,  Marvin had fondly called them. Their singular glowing yellow eyes in the center of their body looked up at their darling master.

“The CATs have certainly missed you, sir!” Schneep exclaimed.

Marvin bent down to caress their smooth heads. “Did you miss your daddy? Who’s a menacing little android? You are, yes, you are!”

One CAT held up a ball of twine. Marvin grabbed it and tossed it across the lair, the CATs trailing after it.

Two older models of the CATs held up a curtain while two others held up Marvin’s new suit. Marvin gratefully ripped off the ugly bluish-grey prison rags and changed into his white button-up, black dress pants, and sparkly purple vest. A CAT draped his famous black cloak with magenta lining around his shoulders while another handed him his beautiful cat mask with the magician’s card designs drawn on. He happily donned the mask with pride and stepped out.

“How do I look, Doctor? Do I look evil?” Marvin asked, spinning.

“Horrifyingly striking, sir,” Schneep said. He opened a small gate to an elevator platform, “Shall we?”

At the top, Schneep set Chase down on a chair while Marvin checked all the monitors and buttons.

“Everything ready?”

“Of course! I would never leave anything unchecked before a big event!” Schneep said. Beside the doctor, Chase began to stir, grunting and yelling muffled by the bag.

“He’s awake! Quick everyone, places!” Marvin ordered. He jumped onto his chair and motioned a small CAT to lie down in his lap while he fixed his hair once more.

Schneep ripped the bag off of Chase’s head as Marvin twirled his chair around, menacingly stroking the CAT. “Mr. Brody, we meet again.”

“Would it kill you to wash the bag?” Chase complained, “it fucking stinks and the spray bottle is no better!”

“You can scream all you want, Brody, I’m afraid no one can hear you!” Malevolent announced. Chase remained stone-faced.

Marvin frowned. “Why isn’t he screaming?”

Schneep sighed exasperatedly and bent down next to Chase, “Mr. Brody, if you don’t mind-”

“Screaming sounds a lot like this: aaaahhhhh!” Malevolent demonstrated. “I mean, that’s a poor example but-”

The CAT sitting on his lap bit his hand. Malevolent emitted a high-pitched shriek as he tried to shake the little robot off.

“Not to sound like a sadist but it’s more fun when you do it,” Chase deadpanned.

“Very funny,” the Doctor snapped. “You’ll be singing a different tune when the Brighton Shepherd is defeated right before your eyes!”

Ignoring both of them, Chase decided to examine the observatory, the usual spot for Malevolent and Shepherd’s battles. Most of it was the usual, a long control booth circling the room, full of buttons and levers that would release death traps, lasers, and other lame inventions. Above the panel were monitors of different sizes. On one side of the elevator was a broken vending machine where Doctor grabbed his sleeping spray, while on the other side was a strange metal sphere with axes and spikes sticking out of it (Chase asked and even Malevolent had no idea what it was).

“Speaking of watching, do you have your camera set up?” Malevolent asked, finally yanking off the biting CAT.

“Yup! It’s in the pin this time! Anthony helped me set it up!” Chase puffed his chest out to show it off.

Malevolent ran a hand through his thick black hair and twirled around, letting his cape fly in the wind.

“So guys, what’s on the menu for today? Robosheep? Typhoon cheese? A big ball of aluminum that will roll around town?” Chase asked.

Behind his plague doctor mask, Schneeplestein grinned. It was his time to shine! “Actually, we created a cool ray that uses the sun to make explosive lasers, wanna see?!” He excitedly rushed over to the main control booth and began typing in the passcode to turn it on.

Marvin yelped and pulled Schneep away from the booth, “Easy there, Doc, we’ll show it in time!”

“Brody wanted to see it!” Schneep protested. “It’s not like it would hurt, would it?”

“Think, Doctor! He’s using his nosy reporter skills to find out all our secrets!” Malevolent accused, snarling at Chase.

Chase rolled his eyes, chuckling. These two could be quite entertaining. “What secrets?! You’re so predictable!”

“Oh, that’s the insult for today?! Tell me, my dear Brody, would you call this predictable?” Marvin pulled down a lever and the floor around Chase opened up.

“Your alligators, yes!” Chase nodded in greeting to the snapping reptiles. “Yeah, I was just thinking about these guys on the way over!”

Truth be told, Chase was dreaming of riding a large parrot to Disney World while in the car. But Malevolent didn’t need to know that.

Marvin turned back to the panel. How dare Chase see through his armour?! He quickly slammed a button. “What about this?”

A sharp razor painted blood red danced in Chase’s face. “That’s kind of tacky.”

Marvin punched another button and a junky invention of multiple chainsaws attached to the ceiling lowered down. The chainsaws had gotten their chains stuck to each other and could barely move. Chase pretended to contemplate it. “Mm, juvenile.”

Marvin pulled another lever. “What about this?!”

A giant fart gun shot green gas out. Chase gagged. “Gross and immature!”

“What’s this one do?!” A weak fire machine coughed out small bits of fire.

“That’s just sad,” Chase said. He looked up and nearly jumped out of his seat. A small spider floated downwards. “Is the spider new?”

Marvin turned to Schneeplestein, who merely shrugged. When this was all over, Marvin was going to give him a stern talking to about bug extermination in the lair.

“Ah yes, the spe-dair-a,” Marvin whispered as he advanced closer to Chase. “Even the smallest bite from Arachnis Deathicus will instantly paralyze-”

Chase blew the spider onto Marvin’s cheek, causing him to scream again. Schneep punched him hard enough to knock him over.

“GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!! IT BIT MEEEEE!!!” Marvin screamed as Schneep continually smacked him with a newspaper. The spider fell off of Marvin’s cheek and began advancing to the control panel.

“STOP IT BEFORE IT DISAPPEARS!” Marvin howled as he crawled away from the disgusting creature.

After five minutes of Marvin’s dramatic wails and crawling and Schneep swearing like a sailor, Chase finally put an end to the spider’s life by stomping on it when it got close enough.

Marvin crawled over to Chase and grovelled at his bound feet. “Thank you, you are a lifesaver!” He suddenly spied the pin. “Is that still on?”

Chase smiled smugly, “I’ll burn the evidence if you let me go and we’ll never speak of it again.”

Marvin stood up, scowling, “Absolutely not! We haven’t even gotten to the fun part! Let’s pay your boyfriend and godfather a visit, shall we?”

*

Back at the town square, the mayor had finished up her rather short speech, “It is with great pleasure that I present Brighton Shepherd to his new museum! When you’re ready!”

Shepherd’s laser eyes cut the rope and the great curtains fell, revealing the giant statue of the superhero. A brass band played loudly over the sound of a cheering crowd.

Jackie applauded happily for his mentor, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous. In all fairness, the Shepherd had been around longer than he had, and he was still familiarizing himself with the city.

A sudden chill running up his arms woke Jackie from his thoughts. He looked up and gasped. Dark clouds quickly enveloped the museum. People shrieked in terror as a big, black blimp hovered above the great building, rolling down two large projection screens underneath. Once positioned on each side of the magnificent statue, a small circular robot holding a camera turned the screens on, showing the face of the one to blame for the chaos: the Malevolent.

The Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder flew up, Shepherd holding up a microphone.

“If it isn’t the Malevolent!”

“Bravo, Brighton Shepherd! Congratulations on your new museum!” Malevolent drawled, clapping slowly.

The crowd began to boo loudly. Malevolent blew a raspberry at the crowd, “So immature!” he scoffed.

“Should have known you’d try and crash the party!” Shepherd said.

“Oh, I intend to do more than crash it! This will be a historic day you, and Brighton City, will not soon forget!”

“We all know how this ends!” Shepherd said. “With you behind bars!”

“Ooh, I tremble in my kitten-skinned cape,” Malevolent hissed, playfully wrapping himself up in his cape. The cape was actually made from cotton, but the city didn’t need to know that.

“What do you want with us, Mal?” Shepherd demanded.

“First off, don’t call me ‘Mal’,” Malevolent snapped. “Secondly, if you and your tomato sidekick don’t leave town in an hour, then this will be the last you ever hear of Chase Brody!” Malevolent punched a button and the left screen presented the kidnapped Chase tied to a chair.

“I knew it!” Jackie muttered behind his mask.

“Don’t panic Chase! We’re on our way!” Shepherd cried out, earning a cheer from the crowd.

“I’m not panicking!” Chase responded, smiling.

Malevolent pretended to gag. “Oh, please. You have to find us first before you save Chase.”

“We’re at the abandoned observatory!” Chase quickly called out.

Malevolent suddenly turned off Chase’s camera, yelping, “WAIT DON’T TO LISTEN TO HIM-”

It was too late. Shepherd and Marauder were already flying above the dark grey smoke. Shepherd quickly spotted the broken down space observatory near the dangerous part of Brighton City beach and pointed it to Marauder. The two began their flight.

Back at the lair, Schneep watched the superheroes from his monitor. “Shepherd and Marauder approaching, sir!”

Marvin turned to Chase, who shot him a smug grin. Marvin only smiled in return.

“Like we said, you’ll be singing a different tune when you see what we have planned!”

The Shepherd would almost be here. Chase closed his eyes and ducked his head for the inevitable ceiling crash.

Shepherd and Marauder flew through the opening of the observatory and landed. Or rather, Shepherd landed gracefully on his feet while Marauder tripped and fell over. Behind them, the heavy doors slid shut.

Shepherd looked around. The place was quiet and eerily empty. No sound of any cat-bots. No evil laughter from the Malevolent.

“Something’s wrong…” Shepherd muttered. He turned to the doors. Were they locked in?! He ran over to check.

Puzzled, Chase looked up. Where were they?

Malevolent reveled in Brody’s confused expression. He fiddled with the control panel, opening up one of the walls.

“You didn’t think we were in the real observatory… did you?!”

Chase could stare in horror as he spotted the real observatory. He couldn’t believe it. He had led the two superheroes right into a trap.

Malevolent laughed triumphantly. “Ready the Death Ray, Doctor!”

Doctor typed in the passcode and pulled the lever down. “Death Ray ready-ing!”

In the real abandoned observatory, Shepherd and Marauder desperately tried to get the doors open.

“I can’t believe Malevolent actually tricked us! How did he seal the doors?!” Marauder moaned.

“Don’t worry Red, we’ll find a way out,” Shepherd said, smiling.

“Over here, boys,” a voice like ice called out. The superheroes turned to see a large projection of Malevolent smiling down on them.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve fallen right into my trap!” Malevolent boasted.

The Shepherd motioned Marauder to find an escape before turning to Malevolent. “You can’t trap justice! It’s an idea! A belief!”

“Well sometimes the most heartfelt belief can be corroded over time!” Malevolent responded.

“Justice is a non-corrosive metal!”

“Then I will just melt it with the heat of revenge!”

“FYI, revenge is best served cold!” Shepherd corrected him. From the side, Marauder shook his head. As much as he respected his mentor and feared Malevolent, their “witty back-and-forth banter” was lame.

“It can easily be reheated in the microwave of evil! Don’t doubt me!” Malevolent snarled.

“Well I think your warranty is about to expire!” Shepherd declared.

“Fuck you, I have an extended warranty!” Malevolent retaliated.

“Language, my dear sir! And warranties are invalid if you don’t use the product for its intended purpose!” Shepherd roared.

“OH! Girls, girls, you’re both pretty!” Chase yelled from his seat. He turned to Malevolent, exasperated, “My whole body is sore. Can I just go home now?!”

Malevolent turned around to throw an empty can of Cola at Chase. It bonked off the side of his head.

“You’ll just have to wait, dear Brody! Your beloved superheroes first must prove if they can escape the inevitable power of the sun! Fire!”

Marauder conjured a shield for himself and Shepherd. When the Shepherd made no move to protect himself, Marauder realized nothing was coming. What happened?

Meanwhile, Marvin approached Schneep and the machine. Schneep learned against the panel, snoring softly. Marvin poked him, “Doctor, wake up!”

Schneep startled, “Oh! Sorry!” He turned to the machine, “The machine is still warming up. I expect we have a few more minutes before it fires.”

Marvin’s face turned as red as Marauder’s suit. “Warming up?! The sun is warming up?!”

Chase started laughing, “The sore arms and legs are definitely worth this riot. Just you wait, the Shepherd and Marauder will be on you in min-”

Malevolent tossed another empty can at Chase. Chase immediately shut up. “That’s better.”

“Don’t worry Chase, we’re on our way!” Marauder yelled from the monitor.

Malevolent stomped over to the camera, “Get here faster, I’m this close to throwing his stupid ass off the balcony!”

This caused Marauder to flip. “Hang in there Chase, I’m coming!” He rocketed up to fly out, only to crash into the ceiling and fall back down unceremoniously.

“Marauder, we’ve talked about this! You need to think before you do anything!” Shepherd lightly scolded. “Now, what do we have that can create a hole in the wall?”

“This whole day is a mess…” Doctor muttered from his spot at the panel.

“I’m sorry, whose side are you on?!” Malevolent demanded.

“The losing side!” Chase interjected.

“Everybody shut up,” Malevolent ordered. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know what? I need to take a nap. Call me when the ray is ready!”

“The ray is ready!” Doctor announced. In seconds a bright beam of yellow flew down, destroying the observatory in seconds. Fire and burning metal fell out of the demolished observatory, some of it flying directly towards the lair.

Malevolent quickly waved his hands in a circular motion, muttering. A shimmering purple bubble wrapped around Doctor and Chase. As debris rained down, Malevolent deflected them with bursts of purple fireworks. Chase watched in amazement, gaping.

“I keep forgetting he can do magic...” Chase muttered. “He uses so much technology instead.”

Doctor laughed, “Well, he’s not called the Magician for nothing.”

When the commotion calmed down and the debris stopped coming, Marvin twirled around, blowing a stray hair out his eye. The bright glow of the burning observatory behind the magician outlined his epic form. “Did your camera get that, Brody?”

Two more pieces of falling debris gracelessly smashed into Marvin. Chase happily squealed upon seeing the dusty forms of the Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder.

“I… should have seen that coming,” Marvin squeaked. “How did you escape so fast?”

“Laser eyes are a wonderful thing!” Marauder answered, giving Marvin a playful wink as he stood up. Marvin stuck his tongue out.

“The gig is up, Mal. We’re taking you back to jail, where you belong!” Shepherd declared. Marvin sighed and slammed his head down on the floor. Naturally, he lost. Again.

Schneep’s distressed cries snapped Marvin back to attention. He turned to his head to see Marauder on top of a struggling Schneep. Schneep’s whimpers and half-sobs were lost on Marauder, who continued tying his wrists behind him.

“Might as well send the Malevolent’s accomplice to jail as well! That way he won’t escape again!” the sidekick reasoned.

Something in Marvin snapped. “NO!” he screamed, startling the Shepherd. With his nemesis off his back, Marvin set his eyes on Brody and magically put the reporter in a choke hold.

Chase gasped raggedly as the air left his lungs.

Marvin whirled around to face Marauder, growling, “Let the doctor go!”

“Get your hands off Chase!” Marauder yelped, staring helplessly at his struggling brother.

“First, free the doctor!” Marvin shouted. He tightened his grip on Chase, lifting him out of the chair.

“Put Chase down!” Marauder roared, eyes glowing red.

Chase wheezed pathetically, black spots darting in his vision. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He let out a strangled sob, tears falling. In all his time with Malevolent… he had never felt so scared.

Jackie’s eyes lost their glow and he loosened his grip on the Doctor. Underneath him, the Doctor moaned in pain.

“Let him go, Red.” Jackie turned to Shepherd in shock. The usually optimistic and brightly-smiling superhero had a grim expression on his face. Jackie spluttered.

“B- but- The Doctor will just free the Malevolent again! We could stop them both once and for all-”

“You heard me. Let him go,” Shepherd ordered. Reluctantly, Jackie stood up and backed away from the Doctor. The shaking man took no time running to the stairs and quickly disappearing.

Marvin waited until Schneep’s footsteps faded away before releasing Chase, gently laying him down. Chase gulped in tearful breaths, his body trembling. Marauder rushed over to free Chase while Shepherd tied the magician’s hands behind him.

The minute his hands were free, Chase threw his arms around Jackie. Jackie gently hugged him.

“Are you okay?” Jackie whispered. Chase nodded, still gasping.

“I’ll take Malevolent to jail,” the Shepherd said. “You get Chase to a hospital!” He took off, Malevolent dangling in his arms. The magician waved goodbye as he and the Shepherd disappeared into the city.

Jackie picked up Chase bridal style and started flying as well.

He kept the flight light and steady to keep Chase from getting sick. Chase buried his head in Jackie’s shoulder for most of the trip, eyes squeezed shut. He hated heights.

As they arrived at the hospital, a medical team waited outside to take Chase in. After the first few kidnappings, a special team offered to dedicate themselves to healing Chase in case he needed it.

“Ja-Jackie?” Chase stuttered. Jackie looked down at his almost unconscious friend.

“Ma-Make sure th-this doesn’t reach An-Anthony, oh-ok?” Chase begged between gasps.

Jackie nodded, confused. “Alright… I won’t tell him.”

*

The cell stunk. No one here ever bothered to put an air freshener in his jail cell, despite Marvin’s numerous polite requests to have it put in. According to the security guards, the Malevolent “could use it as a weapon” or a “gas bomb”. Please.

Marvin sighed as best as he could. As if to enact revenge for strangling Chase, the security staff had clamped an even smaller chain around his neck, making it hard to breathe. Or move. Or do anything. The rest of his body wasn’t much better, with a larger chain wrapped around his waist and movement sensory chains bruising his wrists. If he tried using any magic, the chains on his wrist would shock him. After today, electrocution was the last thing Marvin needed.

Marvin looked up to check the premises. After checking to make sure the guards were gone, Marvin snapped his fingers, careful not to move his wrists too much. Immediately, the chains loosened, allowing Marvin to take a shuddering gasp. He knew the minute he heard the guards coming to check on him, he had to tighten them again, so he took advantage of the situation.

At least the Doctor was free. He wasn’t being made to sit in a stinky, small cell, wrapped in large chains that threatened to strangle him at any moment. He was free to relax after a hard day, planning for the next breakout. For now, Schneep could rest.

Marvin leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes. Schneeplestein would help him escape again. For now, the magician himself will think of another plan to get back at the Brighton Shepherd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @indic0lite, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans,  @the-pastel-kitsune, @ptide  @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milokno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

[iscribble]

pairing | youtuber!renjun x student!reader genre(s) | fluff, slice of life, strangers to potential lovers, college au word count | 1.8k summary | you’re always the type to be punctual, so it takes you by surprise that you’re willing to give up your time for something else - someone else, rather; a stranger.  author’s note | havent written in so long that i just had to put something out there. im really sorry for being so inactive! :( 

An extended but lonely crack slithers down the bathroom mirror, grazing your reflection on the glass that is opaque with moisture. Through the corner of your eye you perceive one-fourth of the aged, spreading tree outside your apartment whenever the old creaking door swings open with the wind. The quiet—but prominent—plop of the water that leaks through the apertures on the pipe hits your ears, and it is only after a while that you find it fills the little space between your toe and the tip of your shoe. The leak doesn’t bother you though. Neither does the crack, nor the random wind gusts. A yellow lip balm bounces in your palm, cap greasy from applying too much on your finger. You would exchange a mere lip balm for a heat pack, but you put it on anyway. The harsh cracks on your lips are now tucked away underneath a tacky layer of cream, and you find it amusing how easily it wears away. 

You are late, for the first time in months. Nothing really bothers you as much as glancing at the clock and seeing its hands where you least expect them to be.

In your defense, it was an afternoon class. You don’t usually have afternoon classes unless your professor needs to reschedule, which, inevitably, resets your agenda for the rest of the day. You, on the other hand, are not used to rescheduling. So when you can’t feel the warm shaft of sunlight skim across your eyelids, instead, only the feeling of cold air brushing past your skin and the faint sound of your alarm, you jolt awake, guilty of sleeping in. You try not blame yourself though—this doesn’t happen everyday and you are still not used to it. 

The station is disposed with a boring facade and a duller interior. The giant vintage clock shows 15:18. The three seater bench still holds too many people.  There is that man with the navy-coloured down jacket behind the counter, uninterested in the regulars who flock to their respective platforms. These are the same sequences, the same faces, like people are helpless boats going with the current. You scrunch up your nose, admitting you are one of them too. 

You make your way inside the train, opting to sit near no one else. It takes a while for you to settle down, but when you do, you catch someone looking at you. Harbor gray coat, brown hair, black mask. You don’t recognise him anywhere on campus. You think maybe he attends one of the afternoon classes, but you don’t assume further. 

15:29.

You leave the train with a spring in your step, but not out of enthusiasm. The familiar crisp white frontage of the building comes into view, your heart skipping a beat as you think of the worst that could happen upon stepping inside the lecture hall. One strap of your tote slides down your shoulder, and just as you are about to pick it up, the other strap goes loose and drags your bag down with it. A couple of coloured pens roll out, you grumble to yourself and crouch down to stop them from rolling any farther. You fail at this, when you turn around to pick up a blue pen and realise that someone else beat you to it. The stranger from the train. 

“Got it,” he chuckles, and you feel embarrassed. He returns your pen, but his eyes don’t stop at your hands. His gaze lowers a short distance, you’re almost sure he’s looking at the brick road beneath you, but you’re not really sure why. When you stand back up he vaguely shakes his head, like he’s been thinking about something else, but you don’t miss it.  

“Thank you,” you say, too fast that it almost sounds insolent. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he returns with a smile behind his mask. “I’m Renjun, by the way.” He extends his hand for you to shake. What’s he doing? Why's he acting like he’s about to proceed with an interview or something?

You learn that he really does want to “interview” you. “I’m a youtuber,” he informs. It is only then that you realise someone else is standing behind him, occupied with a camera. 

“Oh,” you eventually reply, but nothing else. He waits for the typical “that’s cool!” but you are too quiet, Renjun can practically hear someone making a fuss about her peppermint hot chocolate being too hot in the distance. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It’s for a youtube video.” He speaks up. You say nothing at first. Your fingers that hide underneath the rib-knit cuff curl into a ball. You feel the crack that litters your lower lip flaunt itself, the thick lip balm that conceals it long gone. You seem even more conscious of your worn out shoes that somehow feel damper than they already are. Putting your weight on one leg, you try your best to decline him in the most mannerly way possible. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m actually late to class.”

You can’t see his smile but you know it falters. His glasses droop a little, you see the red marks on the bridge of his nose. “I see.” Is all he says. He looks back at his friend and shrugs. “Thank you, anyways.” Your stomach churns. You don’t want to be the reason he leaves empty handed, yet he is leaving, empty handed and all. Somehow, your concern for punctuality slowly withers away.

“No, wait,” you catch his fingers just before he turns the other way. He winces. Not because of the sudden swell of your voice, but because your hands are a little too cold. You steal a glance at the watch on your wrist. 15:32. Renjun finds your eyes. He doesn’t say it, that your hands are too cold, but he takes them in his own, warming them up. Strangely enough, your whole body heats up at the gesture. 

“Class can wait, whatever. What’d you want to ask me?”

Renjun’s eyes all but light up. He signals for his friend to start filming. “Alright, a few questions about college, I’m going to try and guess your major.”

“Oh, that’s new,” you raise an eyebrow. “Did you come up with the idea?”

“Nah,” Renjun laughs, he brings up a hand to push his hair back. “Just following a trend.”

15:33. You nod. “Alright, go on.”

You notice a few things about Renjun. The way he speaks, like you’ve known each other for a long time. The way his hair isn’t exactly brown, rather russet, a little red. When you look closer into his eyes, you see they match his hair. You wish you could see his lips, see if they’re as cracked as yours, if he puts lip balm on a little too much, but the black mask he wears that almost reaches his eyes tells you it’s too early for that. Perhaps, if he lowers the article just a few inches, you’ll understand that the circles beneath his eyes mean that he’s equally as tired as you. He asks you questions, not rushed, and though you are definitely late to class, you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.

“Might have an idea,” he looks to the camera tentatively, then back to you. “Chemistry?”

“You’re good,” your compliment reaches his ears. “How’d you guess?”

Renjun punches the air in glee as if he won the lottery. “Honestly, couldn’t get a single clue from what you said. But I saw your Analytical Chemistry book peeking out from your tote when it fell.” 

“Whoops, my bad.” You share a laugh. 

“And as a thank you for the—” he scrutinizes his watch, “—five minutes I just took from your time, this is for you.” A heat pack. You didn’t know how much you needed one until your hands reach for the item almost immediately.

15:38. You squeeze the pad as heat begins to radiate from it. Renjun’s friend lowers the camera as soon as you’re done filming, and it is then that Renjun seems like he has something else on his mind.

“Uhm,” he half-whispers. You look at him, confused. “Your shoes.”

You know what he means. Your shoes leave ambiguous trails of dirt, just slightly. Renjun notices it though. Your shoes are rather soggy, like they were deliberately dipped in water. Traces of soil scatter the outsole, centimetres up and you’ll see a small patch of fabric, sewn on to cover the hole that’s exposing your toes. You tremble slightly, bringing your right foot behind your left in an attempt to hide it from him. No one has ever pointed it out.

“Oh. They’re old, but, they work.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffs lightly. “Let me buy you new ones.”

“No.” You realise that comes out too abruptly. “Please, that’s really unnecessary.”

15:39.

“You’re late to class,” he reasons with you. “At least let me make it up to you.” The obscure rift on your bottom lip bleeds a little. You like to bite it whenever you feel nervous. Renjun reaches for his phone in the pocket of his ivory trousers and hands it to you. 

“We can go over the details through text,” he subtly looks at his friend, wanting to know if the gesture is okay. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

15:40. You give in. Your fingers are stiff—you realise you’re giving your number to a stranger, so you take some time to secretly ponder over the situation, although you hate to admit Renjun feels more like a new friend. He sends you a message once you give him his phone back just to make sure you get his number. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him. “That’s really kind of you.”

15:41.

You hesitate before a hand comes up to wave at him and his friend, though the heat pack is still crushed between your fingers. Renjun pulls his mask down for the first time, and it would be weird to say you were waiting for it. For his smile. You can perceive through the white fabric whenever it shifts that he is smiling underneath there, but now it’s irrefutable, the evidence that he actually is smiling, and you’re glad that’s the last thing you see before the customary sight moulds into view, once again. 

If someone had told you this morning that you’d be willing to sacrifice your punctuality for a stranger, you’d knock some sense into them. But as you stand before the doors to the lecture hall, phone in your grip as you stare at the cerulean waters you fancy as your lock screen, no, rather, the notification that overlays it “let me know when you’re in class, i feel responsible lol”, the unusual feeling that blooms inside your chest reminds you that you could live a little less orderly and a little more self-willed.

15:43.

You’re thirteen minutes late. Though now, nothing really bothers you as much as not being able to concentrate in class because he’s all you can think about. 

[salcreus]

So I'm no writer. I don't mean this in a bad way, I just can't write long texts or keep my attention on the plot that I'm writing.

Having said that, however, I've been thinking a lot about an AU where Impulse and Etho end up teaming up, and things don't seem to work as they should on the 3rd life server.... [AO3 LINK]

Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You’d figure that if you tried hard enough, you could even notice the hints of salt scattered throughout. But focusing on the little details in life are for people that have the time to do so- And you, Impulse, are

“-an absolute idiot.” “Whoah there buddy, all I did was help some people out on their business. Don’tcha think that having more cards at play is gonna help us out in the end?” The redstoner says in such a tone that almost feels acrid in the way that fruits rot, if left forgotten, yet poor phrasings and curses aside, they truly were words of a man that means no malice- a curse of playing so many sides, he’d assume, if he were in another time. What he gets in response is but a boneless sigh, one that is tired of the shapes and turns of life and death, the game that they always play but never win. - “Impulse, you know that I love having you around- I’ll go so far as to say that you are the only one I can truly trust around here. But you are making me have some second thoughts about that.” “About my loyalty? Oh come on, you know that you are my pal til the end of times!” “Do I?” Etho has a way with words, it seems. He doesn’t use expensive expressions, the ones that are far too costly for your own soul or mind- Nor does he try to seem something that he isn’t, that’d be too unnatural, even for someone of his stature. But something in his tone moves rocks and mountains if the man so desires, and oh boy does he desire that a lot. You could say that It’s the type of tone that tugs you relentlessly, even if your conscience is clear- it’s never enough to hurt, of course, Canadian costumes or something of sorts, but it’s enough to make you doubt your own self down to the last cell in your body. And that; is far worse than any heartbreak or ill mouthing. Impulse staggers a bit away from his machinery- a simple system that would cast a rain of arrows down to any intruders from the sidelines - and contemplates the question that had been dropped in the air. Does he? Etho wouldn’t doubt him so much if he did, that’s the logical conclusion to that pinpoint. Now onto figuring out why the sudden suspicion. “You do know that I’ve sworn allegiance to you, right? I’m not saying this to be nice, or to play the part, this is not a master plan to trick you and stab you from the back- Heck, I wouldn’t be fortifying your fancy castle if that were the case! Though I doubt that you’d need my help with the redstone side of things-” A slight frown waves upon the man’s face for a split second, and Etho would have probably told you he hadn’t seen a thing if someone were to ask, for sight can be deceiving, and so can the light, and the mind, and your thoughts. “Agh, just please know that I’m doing my darn best to make sure that we can be the winners! That’s the whole goal of me being buddy-buddy with the other teams, right? So that we can gather intel and be 5 steps ahead of them.” And he meant that so truthfully, so genuine and pure, for someone that was doing so much wrong. There was a moment of silence. Well, not true silence- The sloshing of water against hard wool, the wind kissing the crops good morning, the distant chattering of the sheep, it all played a song to fill the current void in this conversation, which was not halted by the need to come up with something more to speak, or the lack of subject, but yes by the need to figure out if both of them believed in this story. “Why are we doing this?” Impulse is taken aback by the shift in conversation- Etho is no person to bring doubt into the table like that, after all. To question others? That’s a fair game, albeit a bit torturous at worst- But to question his own purpose, just like that, out of the blue? Now that was a heavy rock thrown to the face. Thankfully not in a literal sense, though. “...What do you mean by that?” Is what he managed to blurt out in response. “The betraying, the killing, the alliances- all of that. I mean, fundamentally, we do know that we are doing this for ‘fun’ and to ‘wind-out’ ” - The white-haired figure makes sure to over exaggerate the quotation marks of his sentence, giving it such a grand gesture that it almost breaks the somewhat tense presence filling the air. It was nice to take a step back and to remember that, at the end of the day, Etho is

still just Etho, silly and well-meaning. - “We know it because it’s what Grian told us it is.” “So you’re implying that there’s something more to it..?” “I’m not sure yet. You can just call it a hunch, really. But maybe Hermitcraft just... Wasn’t enough for him.”

Silence lingers for a few moments longer, a bit too thick to be swallowed easily, but accusations like these just weren’t possible to digest with a light heart. Impulse, almost inspired by a feeling very fitting to his name, took a few steps forwards, taking in the comforting feeling that the floor of their castle provided, soon sparing a glance at the lava fortifications surrounding them. If he really tried, he could spot Tango’s killing game by one of the exposed gaps, which earned a small chuckle in response. If it was loving, or nervous, he would decide later. “So” - The (yellow themed) redstoner finally spat out - “Going off your logic there… We’re friends with a guy that runs off bloodshed and sadistic tendencies, a guy who has created, even fought, so many battles on the other server, yet felt the need to kick the violence up a notch- For… entertainment?”

In response, the other (more so blue themed, but does Etho really have a colour of his own?) redstoner walked closer towards the other man, each step carrying a moment of reflection. “Ehm- Maybe? I mean we always knew that’s the main point of what we are doing, I’m more so implying-” “Implying that his goals are beyond a couple of laughs and water guns between friends.” “Mhm.” “We don’t usually take such a long break from Hermitcraft, which might have been why he felt the need to create this game.” “Or maybe he was just tired of the pawns, so he traded them for new pieces…” Impulse coughs out another chuckle, but this time anyone that paid some mind to the man could tell the pain that it was carrying- It was almost a brand image at this point, a coping mechanism he had earned over the years. He would go as far as feeling a certain shame about it, at least in his darker hours- it’s hard to play the part if your true colours can pop out at any moment, after all. At that moment, he had come to the realization that he would be awful at poker. “...Either way, I do think that Grian is taking this too far. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have to betray and kill my friends like this. In a lighthearted competition? Sure. But this is turning people into monsters, Impulse. It’s turning us into monsters, in fact.” He spares another sigh, his face twisting into a more pained expression - contrasting the usual cool facade that he kept around the server - , taking the chance to keep his words down to a mere whisper, almost as if to share the secrets of the world with Impulse, spells and curses for his ears only. It almost felt a bit special, in a way. “It’s not like I enjoy the idea of our friend being some sort of sadistic megalomaniac- And I promise you that I’ll eat my own words one by one if I’m wrong, cross my heart, hope to die-” - Worth to note that both of them shared their just as secret reactions to the phrasing used by Etho- The man of the minute with a scrunch of his nose, and the person looking at him with an accidental eyebrow twitch. - “...But I really need you to trust me on this one, Impulse. You know that I wouldn’t bring such accusations without a reason.” Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You wished that if you tried hard enough, you could preoccupate yourself with the bits of salt scattered throughout. Moments of self reflection and torturous analysis, little glances, short breaths, holding your head, holding your mind, holding your heart- Correction, your hearts. Holding simultaneously nothing and the idea of Nothing at the exact same time. You stare at Etho. He stares at you back. But, in the end, focusing on the little details in life are for people that can afford to do so. And you, Impulse, are- “-running out of time! So I guess we are going to call it a day here, folks! Please log out of the world as soon as possible.” The communicators scream, rudely buzzing out to all of the members present in the server.

[kangyeosaang]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

thank you csenge @imdefs​ for tagging me to show how i made this set ✨

buckle up folks this is gonna be long bc min. character limit uni papers thought me a lot of things but def not how to be concise 

01. planning

this was a long time ago but i do remember wanting to make something with overlays bc quite honestly i started working on this way too late and it seemed the fastest lmao. jokes on me i had 2 failed attempts and this also went through some changes along the way. initially i wanted to combine dye, bol and present:you... them being my fave eras for this lovable dumb man. so it would’ve been one pair for each gif.

02. creating

picking footage

so onto creating,, first things first the concept had to be changed bc present:you only had light shots so that had to be removed rip, here you can see a failed attempt at me trying to include it. this was before i started making proof on concepts for gifsets which later on saved me so much time... but not this time

once i accepted defeat i had to reshuffle the shots and add some new ones but it was all good i was not losing braincells at all. so onto the real gifs, gonna show you the red one bc that’s my fave of the three. 

making the base

btw i’m always working with timelines and smart objects bc it feels way easier than frames. so here we started with this jaebeom, and since the background and his hair it’s pretty dark those will be the parts which will be covered with the next gif. i made it black and white and also adjusted the levels a bit to make it a bit softer (lowered the whites and lightened the blacks)

for aesthetic purposes i always go for one close shot and one wider shot, then literally all i did was add the other gif on top, and set it to lighten. okay this is it that’s the whole process bye. oh we need the rest too? okay okay. so btw for a while i was considering making both of them coloured but then bw looked better when having all three gifs under each other, felt more like a ‘set’

now for this gif in particular i did not need to mask anything, shocking, but for the others i had to either blend the edges or make the bottom layer darker at some places to let the top layer show up a bit more e.g. for the second gif i needed a tiny blending like so (it’s the layer 1 copy 3 lmao)

making the overlay bits

then we are basically done with the main part of the gifs, obviously i applied colouring to each inside the smart object. but i always like to add something extra on top which are usually two things: 1.) full overlay gif something blurred (literally any kind of footage.. i used leaves, water, space renders etc. so far), or a light leak, oooor a bokeh effect whatever and just keep it subtle. and 2.) some smaller moving bits which are usually sparkles, dust, stars, galaxy stuff etc. u get the idea. for the above gif this happens to be Layer 1 copy 2 rip. also in this case this overlay is actually this jaebeom footage blurred and with some colouring added on top of it to have this redish brassy tone (not me forgetting about this completely lmao) obviously it’s zoomed in and i’m using the top left part of the video blurred. look at me explaining my chosen gif with another gifs gahd i’m bad at this. anyways it just goes to show i use practially anything i can think of and just blur it. 

for the full overlay footage i either go black and white and set it to overlay or soft light, whatever works best, or go coloured and set it to lighten again.... whatever blending mode works best. for this specific 2nd gif i went with lighten. for the smaller moving bits same tbh i just adjust the levels/curves to only show the bits i need when it’s set to lighten, i.e. i make its background more black so it won’t make the gif hazy. 

 adding the text

so anyways i add those on top so it’s not boring anymore,, practically just concealing the fact that all i‘ve really done was adding a gif on top of another and set it to lighten rip. oh yeah we have the text layers, nothing fancy here: for the script i used Challenge and the serif is FogtwoNo5. For the script i sampled some red from the background and just set it to overlay, and for the serif i just went with full caps adding some extra kerning bc one: for full caps you always need that, not this much lol, and two: it just looks better okay. 

last touches

then i added a levels adjustment layer because i felt the gifs were a bit brighter than i wanted, so we ended up with this 

saviiiiiing 

oh my gahd we are almost theeeere, for saving gifs here are my settings, i did not have to tell photoshop which colours to use luckily so it was an easy process.

03. posting

eeehmmm posting... yeah nothing exciting? i just save it in my drafts check it on mobile, and if something is really messed up i’ll change some colouring and saving settings, but this was a fairly ‘easy’ gif for tumblr to compress decently so none of that. 

if you read this far bruh.... i don’t think i’ve made sense anyways thank yooouuu 💕

and the five amazing CCs i’m tagging are 

🎬 dear wifey, rosie @se-jun​​​​ for these victon posters which i definitely did not make her choose and we ended up with the same i would’ve chosen 🌈 vivi @yeekies​​​​ for making a rainbow from the mostly yellow blob that is the fireworks mv 💙 yv @woodzm​​​​ for this beauty where the blues are colourmatched so well it makes me mad 🌸 lotta @halahala​​​​ for this miracle of a gifset which made me not despise pink 🌈 bridget @lilacwoo​​​​ for this 12/10 rainbow right here because apparently i like rainbows. shocking.   

feel free to ignore and all them usual stuff

[annaraebananawriter]

Hands

First off...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE SQUID!!! 

I honestly had no idea it was his birthday until last night from twitter. I was in the middle of writing this scene, in fact, and realized ‘Hey, you know what? I could probably get this done in time for it!’. Now here we are.

Secondly...This is a scene from one of my WIP’s. It will probably take place somewhere in the middle chapters, but I saw that it was a fairly out of context scene to show that it wouldn’t really matter if I showed it now as a teaser or later. 

Obviously, I chose the latter.

That said, this is set to change a bit as the WIP develops, but it’ll be nice to see what you all think of it. Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically UTMV

Pairings: Implied Errorink, or Pre-Errorink

Characters: Error (Who belongs to CQ) and Ink (Who belongs to Comyet)

Warnings: Nothing really. Although, again, it is a scene from a wip, which means that it is not in it’s final form. Let me know!

Word Count: 2488

~oOo~

His phone buzzed on the floor beside him. Ink paused in the middle of trying to balance a pencil on his finger, which was probably a losing battle, but since when has that ever stopped him before? That’s right, never. And it never would. Setting the pencil aside, he checked his phone and read the short message.

mommy-bear

Are you coming home for supper? It’s past 5.

Ink jumped, looking outside to see that, indeed, the sun was lower in the sky and time had in fact passed. They must’ve gotten lost in the throughs of their homework, or the casual avoidance of it, for one of them. Error seems to have made some sort of headway into the work from Mx. Alex. Good for him. He’ll be able to hand it in on Monday without it bugging him in the back of his mind while he ignores that bugging and just doddles instead of doing his work like he should until the next thing he knows it’s almost midnight on Sunday and he still hasn’t gotten it done.

But honestly, who would do that? Certainty not Ink.

Error had also noticed his jump and was looking at him now. “What is it?”

“Just a text from my mom.” He answered, gathering up his things. A glance to his study buddy showed Error blinking and setting down his pencil as well in order to listen. “She was just wondering where I was. It’s after five, y’know? I said I’d be back then.”

“Oh.” Error fell silent after that.

Once his things were all accounted for (he did lose his eraser for a minute there and partially freaked out about it, which was kind of silly as he had plenty more than just this one white one, others that were far more colourful, but he didn’t have to worry for long—Error had silently placed it on the bed for him to grab, making Ink smile in gratitude), Ink walked to the bedroom door and got to the top of the stairs before he realized another pair of footsteps were following him.

Man, Error really needed to take him up on the suggestion of bells. He was too silent on his feet, just too much like a ghost for his liking. Not that he didn’t like ghosts. He just didn’t like people being silent when their walking. It made him paranoid.

Ink turned around. “You know I can just walk myself back, right? I literally live right next door.” He held up one finger. “That’s the house right beside yours.”

Error scowled, just like he always did when Ink pointed things out like that. It was also a reason why he was determined to point things like that out as often as he did, which was rather often. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I know that.”

“Then why are you following me?”

“What if I wasn’t? What if I just decided to get some food? To do that, I’d need to go to the kitchen, which is also downstairs.” He gestured to the passageway to said downstairs. “Those are the only stairs to get there.”

Ink smirked, “You have a box on the top shelf of your closet where you keep all the chocolate you bought, stole, or stole from Fell.” This statement was rewarded with a light blush of embarrassment from Error, who looked around as if to make sure his brothers didn’t overhear.

Ink was sure that they already knew though.

He also suspected that they put chocolate in the box too, as Error was sometimes surprised that there was some there when he had said he had eaten it all.

“I didn’t even say I was getting chocolate! I might be getting something else.”

“You don’t snack on anything but chocolate.” Error’s scowl deepened. “You also sort of admitted to following me” He couldn’t help but laugh when the blush on Error’s skull deepened in realization and his taller friend looked away from him. It was always interesting to see just how much it took to get to this shade of blue, with the yellow freckle-like dots just barely seen overtop. The sight made Ink want to draw it.

He wanted to draw it so badly.

Laughter dying down, Ink tilted his head and smiled at Error. “If you wanted to walk with me, you could’ve just asked.”

For some reason, Error glanced back at him and quickly looked away again, blush deepening again, the yellow becoming brighter. He also started to glitch a little bit, which would normally spark a tiny bit of worry, but he could see that the other wasn’t in any danger, so he had no reason to worry. If the glitches got worse, then he could worry.

That was…pretty much the saying for being friends with him.

‘If the glitches got worse, then you could worry.’

Error burrowed down, like he usually would if he had his scarf on. It was, presumably, back in his room. Weird. The glitch he knew never went anywhere without his scarf; at school, at home, at the café, at the park, walking, sitting, it was always on. Well, it probably came off at home. Here he was with his family, a safe, happy environment away from the judging eyes of school and the city. He could be himself here. That’s an assumption, at least, hopefully the right one. Ink didn’t know the relationship between skeleton and scarf and never asked, never would talk about it until, or if, Error brought it up. He wanted to respect his privacy, after all.

But now that he thought about it, the scarf had been coming off around him lately. It had started off small. It started with it being up to his mouth, almost as if a way to hide or be smaller than he was. That was how it was for a while. Then one morning, it was down just a bit, just under his mouth. And as the days passed and the two talked more and became friends, the scarf would be lower and lower. Down to the chin in Math. Under the chin the next day. Around his neck a week later in English class.

It was almost like earning his trust. He had earned Error’s trust, which meant that he got to see the skeleton behind the scarf. The true, unshielded one.

It was…kind of nice, to be honest.

Ink blinked, coming back to himself and realizing that Error had mumbled something.

“Sorry, what?”

Error looked back at him and sighed a little before speaking up just enough so that Ink could hear. “I said, can I…walk with you?” His arms went in front of him. Ink guessed that it was a temporary shield in place of the scarf.

He was prepared to be rejected and just walk back to his room.

Well, Ink couldn’t have that, now could he?

“Of course!” The smile on his face widened and he started down the stairs with lighter steps. It was always nice when friends offered to walk you home or something of the sort. The walk was less lonely, even if you never spoke a word.

It’s just how it was.

They talked in the small time it took to get from Error’s house to Ink’s. Well, that wasn’t really true. Ink did most of the talking, which ended up being mostly complaints about homework and school and also talk about his works in progresses. Error just listened quietly, humming or nodding in certain spots. He would like to think that Ink could talk about nothing at all and Error would listen. It just seemed to be the way he was.

Their friendship was a good one. Maybe there were a few unbalances here and there, but overall, it was good and healthy and, most importantly, mutual. It benefited both of them in different ways. Ink had someone who would listen without interrupting, who cared about his interest and how he felt, even though he didn’t have a soul and relied on substitutes. Error had someone who didn’t pressure him into a conversation, who gave him and respected his personal space and asked before touching his things and body. It was like a missing piece just fell into place, so perfect, it felt like it hadn’t been missing at all.

That said, there were some hurdles.

Like how Ink was soulless. There was always that thought, loud or quiet, one that questioned whether the love he felt towards his friends and family was real. Or if he was just deluding himself and everyone around him into thinking that they were. This thought had always been there, since before Dream and Blue, before Error, before anyone he was with now—what if it was all fake?

It was kind of silly. The substitutes he took acted as a soul. It supplied him his soul magic, the working parts of his body and the emotion spectrum. He may not feel things as intensely as others and may be lacking a feeling in a certain way, but that didn’t mean they weren’t real. They’re substitutes for a reason, after all.

…Ah! They’ve arrived at his house.

Ink blinked, stopping on the first step and turning back to Error. “So…” he said, finding himself unable to think of what else to say. He shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat. “I’ll see you next Friday?” He tried to think back on what else was going on in school. “We have some sort of project to do or test to study for, right?”

Error nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” He fell silent too, but didn’t leave like Ink had expected. He lingered, clearly thinking about something with the way his arms slightly glitched around. He didn’t say anything, though.

“Anything else?” Ink asked, trying to prompt him.

The blush, which had died down as they walked over here, brightened again. “Um…yeah, actually.” Error straightened and fiddled with his sleeve. “Do you remember the lesson we had…I think it was a month ago? In Health?”

Ink rocked on his heels as he thought. It was times like these that he cursed his memory. A month ago…a month ago…he didn’t really remember a lot of the lessons from a month ago. But the ones that he did… “Do you mean the one about the different types of intimacy? I only recall that it was about intimacy, nothing specific.”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s the one.”

“Okay…why is it important?” Curious. Error rarely asked him if he could remember a lesson from as long as a month ago. He knew how bad Ink’s memory was, so why did he ask? And why now, of all times?

“I, uh…w-well…” Error stuttered. Error didn’t normally stutter. It was only when he glitched really badly and was on the verge of crashing that he stuttered, or lagged, as he liked to call it. Normally, though, he spoke fine, if quiet and almost echoey.

Speaking of glitches…the ones on his arms had quickened up a little. Not enough to be too worrying yet, but definitely something to watch over.

Frowning, Ink was just about to bring that to attention when Error spoke again, voice clearer. “Just…can you…raise your hand?” He slowly brought up a hand with the inside facing Ink, like he was to high-five someone. “Like this?”

Ink eyed him suspiciously.

One of the first things he had learned about Error was that the other had haphephobia. He couldn’t stand people touching him, as it usually caused a flurry of glitches in the touched spot, and sometimes it was so bad that the minute someone touched him, he crashed. Those days were few, but they have happened. Ink had been lucky that it hasn’t happened since meeting Error. But this fact he had taken in and committed to memory, determined to not trigger his friend like that.

He would hate himself, if he did.

But now Error was asking him to raise his hand? For what? He couldn’t see them high-fiving. It would be too painful for Error and frankly a bit of a reach for Ink (he hated being short like that). And because it would be painful, he couldn’t see why he had to raise his hand.

But he was curious.

Curiosity usually made his answers for him.

Just as slowly as Error did, Ink raised his hand, mirroring the one in front of him.

Error inhaled and…

Ink’s mind froze.

He could barely focus on Error stepping closer as excitement and happiness began to take over. The urge to squeal was overwhelming, but he reigned himself in as he knew that wouldn’t help Error at all. It would probably just make him run away and never come near Ink again. And he didn’t want that. So, he forced himself to stay still and stay quiet, eyes focused on the hand that started to come closer and closer to his.

He could see the black bones begin to glitch a ton and felt a spark of worry—despite what might just happen, he didn’t want Error to hurt himself. He would never want him to—he should speak up now. He should tell Error to stop and calm down.

They didn’t have to do it like this.

They didn’t even have to touch at all!

They didn’t…have to…

It was…warm.

Fuzzy.

The hands contrasted starkly and they would be stunning in a painting. The white of Inks and the black of Errors. They were different, but they looked so well together.

This…This had to be a dream.

But it wasn’t. There was a light touch to his bones, just enough to know that the hand against his was, in fact, against his and trembling ever so slightly and actually existed in the world and not just his imagination. Somehow, this made it even more surreal. He knew it was real…but he just couldn’t believe it.

If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

Despite his promise to stay still, Ink shakily inhaled.

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Error retracted his hand and walked away quickly. Ink was slow to realize what was happening and so by the time his hand was up and the name of his tongue, his friend was already gone. He stood there with his arm outstretched, gazing at the house next door blankly.

He slowly looked down at his hand.

It still tingled.

Gently wrapping his other hand around it, not daring to actually touch, he brought the hands closer to his chest, right over where his soul would be.

It felt like something should be beating wildly in there.

It felt like some new emotion had been lodged in his substitutes.

And somehow, it felt like that contact, the light touch of hands, was far more intimate than a kiss had ever and would ever be.

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby"-part V

Tw⚠️: swearing, angsty vibes ( I think)

Your body moved in distress, turning the sheets all over as you left out a gasp of terror, your face clenching in pain. You have a nightmare, a usual occurrence that happens when you are stressed. Having such a big imagination, your dreams/ nightmares came vividly, with excruciating details. You could see them in colour however the images were blurry, hazy almost.

This nightmare was about Fatima, the sketch artist from up top. She was a senior here and usually the person in this block turned for guidance, relief and peace. She was from the South part of Sudan, fact that she lets it known by her traditional style fashion, her food and her drinks and the occasionally loud conversations she has with her folks back home. A peaceful artist with beautiful brown skin with yellow undertones, an oval face with a big smile plastered on it and shinning black orbs. An angel in disguise that you often seek when the world proved too much for you. Fatima never really showed her own worries and fears but you were one of the privileged few who did see her at her lowest, an experience that motivated you , scared you and hurt you. The amount of times your heart clenched those times matched with how many tears left her orbs.

You were ejected vertically on your bottom as your mouth left a silent scream, tears dropping from your eyes but you didn't have time to think it over since loud noises came from upstairs,Fatima's room. In your paranoid state you didn't question the musicality of the sounds ,chosing to ran out the door ,slapping it shut and jumping two steps each time till you reached her door.

Fatima was enjoying her second favourite types of music, Afro-Latina songs when a storms of pounds hit her door. Confused and terrified, she grabbed the nearby mop before she opened the door. It was just you.

You stood there in black shorts made from former leggings to long for your short legs, white ripped shirt stained with old paint from when you helped her renovate and messy long hair and tear filled puffy eyes.

"Y/n! My girl ,what happened?"

There she was, with a long white fit dress that ended in a curve at the start of her feet and silver grey hijab wrapped around her head. She look energised despite being 5 in the mornina Most importantly she was Most importantly, she was safe, unharmed and happy.

Your noise picked up the aroma of her handmade mix of tea that filled the textile of her dressing where now your head rest as your body convulse in a breakdown again. Shocked and confused, she wasn't stopped however from showing you the comfort your soul may need.

She caressed your long hair and rubbed your back as you two sat on the white tiles of the entrance. The door long close by her other roommate, Catherine Blank - a 26 years old from Dublin.

On Fatima's commends, the red haired freckled woman brought you a knitted blanket and a cup of water. Her hands found their way on your cheeks when you finally calmed down,rubbing them on your wet skin as you drank the water. Your eyes fell down in shame for disturbing them.

You didn't know why it happened. Just two hours ago you finished talking with Corpse and went over your notes one last time.

You seemed fine, too busy for any bad thoughts to bug you or anything such as. Yet here you are.

"Jesus ,girl. You scared us." Came the heavy accent voice of Catherine.

You looked at her standing in black leggings and a black top, skinny hands on round hips and a scowl of worry on her square face. Green eyes softening when they met yours.

"I..um..."

"You don't have to tell us right now, sweet girl. Come, let's enjoy each other with some select songs."

You all three burst in laughter at the ridiculous pompous tonality Fatima chose to express herself with.

You followed, grasping the extended hand of Catherine as Fatima rearrange the blanket around your tattoos covered body.

————————————————————

It was morning when you finally return back into your apartment. The door closed itself with a heavy thud that resonated within the insides of your shaky lungs. You calmed down significantly since that explosive outburst of fears and terrors.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin. You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin.

You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

Your soul long desired the touch of another: to be grasp tightly and lovely by their hands, to be enveloped in their smell as they whisper sweet nothings into your ears, to have their warmth dry your tears, to bring comfort to your pain. You resigned years ago that you were never meant to experience this sessions, merely observed them. But your heart craved them and craving it did, as you watched in fake disgust the romantic displays in Ace's romances.

Right now, after crying your eyes out, your burns needed that comfort, needed that care and love but again you were denied of them, you can only thank yourself for that.

The cup was slapped in foolish fury as you tossed some hot water in it. The tea bag falling towards the end of the cup.

Three knocks were heard at the door and you curiously turned, cup left forgotten.

Opening the door, Omar was standing there with a little albino boy with clear big blue eyes and curly locks. He was wearing a red blue and white checkered shirt with beige church pants. He smelled nice ,his cologne hitting your your long narrow nose immediately after opening the door.

You raised a brow as he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

Then silence.

You continued drinking your tea,staring at the man who finally realised that you didn't know the motive of his visit.

"Alma didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"She said you agreed to watch over Tj today."

Wait.

Your panicked grew was your eyes turned to the calendar to the right of you. There in bold yellow numbers the day of 5th November was left clear with the exception of being circled over with a gold marker.

"Shit ,it was today? I mean ...fuck. Sorry, Omar. It totally slip my mind."

The man laughed ,his brown eyes were warm and forgiving, no offense taken by your skip of mind.

"It's fine,Y/n. So it's alright if I leave this little guy with you for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah. But I don't have-"

As Omar entered the hallway, a grey bag you previously not seen was by the door , you picked it up before going to the living room.

He sat the kid dressed in a sailor white and navy blue stripped t-shirt and light grey sweatpants on one of the sit of your 1970s floral printed sectional sofa.

The kid was making sounds and hand gestures ,wanting to be picked up again by his father who was busy speaking with the 159cm tall woman.

"Tj here is a big of a love bug, get him to like you and you can't go anywhere anymore. Just like his mother I suppose. "

"Does he have any..um..food preference I should know about?"

"Um...Wait, Alma left you a notebook, ah well not you but me. Here ,it should have anything you will need. Again,thank you so much for doing this Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." You said ,flipped the pages of the hard back notebook. Luckily Alma had a neat writing.

"Well, I need to go now. Be nice, little guy. "

Omar bent down to kiss his son's forehead, a sign of goodbye. The child stared at his father with a confuse look as he bubbled nonsense. His tiny hand reaching for the leaving figure.

Omar left soon after ,waving bye-bye to his son and almost kissing your forehead as a habit he picked up since he got together with Alma, their form of goodbye.

You stood there, staring at each other as the kid started to laugh and throw his toy at you. You caught it, he will throw it again and so forth.

You were tired however and knew the boy with too much energy will not be easily manipulated into sleeping. Opening the TV to the kid's cartoon channel , you settled on the opposite couch ,eyes falling victim to tiredness.

----------------------------------------------

You must have been asleep 2 hours and so begore the loud crys woke you up.

Crys? Shittt! The kid.

Shooting out of your crouched position, you ignore the stirring pain of your sudden movement. Your legs' thud brought the attention of the crying mop of hair.

A wrenches smell filled your nostrils as your dread grew when you realised where its source came from. Looks like it's time to change a diaper. Oh ,man!

With a mask over your nose, hair tied behind your back and gloves you started changing the boy in the bathroom, you cleaned and washed him and brought him back on the layed blanket on the couch. Your disgust grew as you cleaned the sink and disinfect it.

You groaned as you threw your equipment in the bin, a bing didn't let your stomach cringe at the memory of the smell. It was a message from Corpse.

'Hey :)'

You smiled, quickly texting him back.

'Hey!"

'Up to play something today?'

'A new stream? You just finished one tomorrow, I don't want you to burn yourself out.'

'<3 But no, I mean to play together in private, just the two of us.'

You wanted to text him back, teasing him with the proposition of a date but the sounds of broking glass was heard from the living room.

With a scream , you quickly typed out :' Cant baby in troble.!'

The kid was fine thankfully , grinning and laughing at your panicked state. What was not fine was the white porcelain vase with blue florals Sabrina brought for her collection. She wouldn't be mad per say but she wouldn't be happy either.

The kid ,now standing to ran around the room ,using the coffee table to his advantage, your legs screaming from the workout. Luckily the broken vase was behind you away from the child.

Unfortunately, your phone started to ring. Who the fuck would call me now? Oh! It's Corpse. Wait..Corpse!

"H-hey Corpse ! What are you - come here you little block of swiss cheese."

The man laughed as the phone's speaker vibrated on your right ear where you lodged it.

Tj laughed innocently as you grabbed him and hold him to your left hip. Your hair,nerves and mood all a mess.

"A-Are you okay?" Corpse asked after recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Me? Oh ,sure. I have a gremlin here who's more trouble than his worth. Hey! Stop that!"

The happy face of Tj turned in a cringy crying one as he wailed. Apparently you wanting to stop him chewing on your white banda, tightly nicely on the top of your head ,was too much.

"Sounds like trouble. By the way, you called me?"

"I did?"

Your eyebrows clenched as you look at your calls history,you did actually. The icon of the call must have been press on accident or that it was a sign from the universe that you are in dire need of assistance.

"Y-yeah. Look, Corpse l-I gotta go. I will call you-"

And you stopped, your breath becoming more fast as your nose flared.

"Um ghost? Are you...Are you there?"

"Stay on the line,Corpse. This kid just pissed on me."

With that another wave of laughter hit the man as he thrown himself into the chair.

----------------------------------------------

Finally, you changed the damn brat after cleaning him again and taking a shower yourself. You left a breath as you watched the chil playing with his blue rocket toy.

"Babysitting is much harder than the films makes it out to be." You grumbled, pouting as you listened to Corpse's chuckles.

They managed to calm you enough to turn the intimidating glare you had plastered all over your face into a more stern one.

Your body dressed in a clean pair of white jeans short, black tank top and blue checkered shirt over, leaned on the frame of the door. You were waiting for the milk to heat up, luckily the boy was only a month away from being an year old so you could give him cow milk without worrying.

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby." He said ,his voice making you visibly tingle.

You sighed, placing the phone near the wooden bread box and grabbing a cup. By now the milk should have warmed up.

"Um...goofball?"

"Yes,Corpse?"

"You...you are not wearing your voice changer. I..I am sorry, I should have told you from the start but I like the s-sound of it ,I didn't want it to stop."

You could hear the beads of his bracelets as he played with them, nervously waiting for your response.

"I-It's okay, Corpse. You don't need to be sorry."

You swallowed, this day really came for your neck. Your eyes stung as you fight them off, no reason to make Corpse's day shittier by being pathetic.

"You are not fine ,are you goofball?"

The kind and worried tone of this wonderful individual you became to take a liking of was enough to cause everything in you to break loose.

"N-No ,it's not. Everything been so fucking stressful and I-I don't know what to do Corpse. I try my might to fight these thoughts but everytime they resurface stronger and more disturbing. I can't keep them in control, Corpse. I just CAN'T. A-And I keep worrying about losing all: my friends, my belongings and my family. I feel like I will drive them away especially if I can't bring my share to the table. I don't even know why I tell you these to be honest, I don't want to scare you away but in the same time I ... FUCK!"

Your fists hit the table you been resting on hard , scaring the child in the living room. His cries only angered you more.

"Ghost. Ghost! Ghost! Gho-"

"WHAT?"

You instantly regretted shouting at him,stopping from your pacing too.

"Calm down,buttercup. I know how you feel and going down a warpath or an abyss of sorrows ain't the answer. Come, let me help. "

"You still want to?" Your voice came out timidly and shying away in fear, shielding your eyes in shame despite him having no possible way of seeing your face.

"Of course, you goof. Now let's see what we do with that kid."

You swiped a tear out of your right eyes ,smiling and nodding before remembering he couldn't see, just hear you. That made you more anxious now that you realised that he knows a close guarded information.

————————————————————

A smile ran down your face as you watched the child all wrapped up in his dark blue blanket struggle to jeep his bright eyes opened as his ears and energy were captured by Corpse's singing. It's was a lullaby about moon and love, being in Spanish you only understood unfortunately the words close to your mother language.

You almost lost yourself to the gentle hums , stringing of a guitar and over all wholesome cozy atmosphere when loud voices and thumbs came from the apartment near Fatima's.

An idiot called Tudor who plays the bass part in Sergiu's band lived there, he and his boyfriend Micah. Two assholes who had a bone to pick with everyone, well more like Tudor had ,Micah was a follower.

The sense of protection enveloped you as you caressed the child's hair and kiss his right temple, letting him with Corpse to fall asleep.

Your grey flippers cracked against the stone stairs harshly and quickly. Your glare being as cold as the staircase room.

You knocked furiously on the door, hurting your hands by the metal indentations carved into the door. Your ears picked up footsteps approaching the door in a lazy manner, the two making jokes about what kind of bitch could be bothering them.

The smirk on his long face vanished when his pale blue eyes meet your fiery dark ones. He puffed a lock of dirty blond hair , saluting you in a cocky but intimidated manner :

"I wonder why the Red Riding Hood is paying us a visit? What do you think ,Micah?"

He leaned back to let his dark skinned boyfriend take a look at you. His eyes showed fear but he continued the masquerade in order to please his scumbag of a lover.

"I don't know, babe. Maybe she wants a threesome."

Tudor laughed like then pig he is, Micah lipped an apology to you, his black gems cowering in shame.

Micah wasn't a bad man , he was just naive and a people's pleaser, with no sense of stern morals but even awareness to know he is the wrong. You never understood why he wasted his breath by staying at the side of this buffoon of a dude. You ignored his half-cocked insults, knowing they didn't really had a backbone to them.

"I will appreciate if you could tone it down a little. No one needs to know you two are making a sex tape."

This seemed to anger the taller white as mayonnaise man who dismissed his boyfriend with a wave of his painted hand and moved forward to you. The red door of his apartment shutting up with an echo.

You two glared at each other, not one of the other backing down. Your breath was forcefully calmed down by your anger , last thing you needed is for him to know he was affecting you by coming too close. Your hands shook in their tight grip and you were pleased you cut your nails earlier.

"Just because Sergiu lets you come with us when we play, doesn't mean you and I are friends. Got it, girly?"

His rough tone only displeased you.

"And just because you can string two cords and not sound like a dying cat doesn't mean you are a great singer either, buddy."

"Fuck you." He said that to you in a clasped breath, his teeth biting on his lower lip as his face appeared more furious.

If this motherfucker puts his hands on me ,I swear I will...

"Y/N? Y/N!"

It was Sergiu.

The man in a punk style leather jacket ran quickly up the stairs, his armored black boots clicking away.

His face was twisted into a fearing expression before turning into a more pissed off one. He knew of Tudor's dislike towards you and knew that the both of you won't hold back if this turns physical. He needed to be smart about this.

"Man, come on. Leave her alone."

He moved to come between you ,Tudor's movement of hand stopped him.

"Nah,man. This bitch thinks she come here like she owns the fucking place and tell me what to do? I am sorry, princess, but you got another thing going. "

"TUDOR ISAAC POPESCU!"

A female voice caused his blood to ran cold and you to smirk.

Behind Sergiu, a petite woman in her mid fifties glared at him. Her greying hair caught in a bun,her olive wrinkled face was in a madden frown as her blue eyes shield by fuchsia framed glasses stared at him. The madame in green suit pants and white and black blouse was his mother.

His mother, a teacher at your University, was a lioness of a woman, never detour from the right path of doing things and more importantly never afraid to tear down anyone if they being dickish. Not even her loved son.

Sergiu grabbed gently you without a word as you two left the mother and son quarrel in peace, a part of you already starting to feel bad. You hate when you argued with someone but your anger sometimes got the better of you. Today truly has been an exhausting day.

————————————————————

You are in your room,Corpse still on the phone with you. You already explained what happened and know you enjoyed just talking with him about everything and nothing at the same time,trying to not fall asleep for how calming his voice was.

"You sure you don't want me to end the call. You must be tired from all the noises. "

You stirred, cleaning the droll of your left wnd of your lips. Your head ache as you saw that night has befallen.

"Wh-What?"

"Goofball,I was talking if you wanted me to let you rest but you already beat me to it."

"T-Tj?"

"Your friends said they will take care of them. They were so surprised to find me singing to him, though."

"Ah,shit. Sorry Corpse."

"Nothing to be sorry about, pumpkin. "

"Pumpkin, seriously?" You asked ,snuggling back into the comforter.

"Yeah, why not? The fall season is still up for a month or so."

"Hmm, I prefer goofball better."

"If you say so, princess. You *yawn* you sure you don't want me to let you sleep?"

A panick arised into your soul as you quickly told him no.

"P-Please stay."

"A-Alright."

He began to continue the story one of his subscribers send him as your eyes shut. A smile on your lips at last.

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the fifth part of the serie. It was a roller coaster to write.

Anyway, stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @gaysludge @mythicalamphitrite

[secondhand-trash]

The Last Petal Falls

A/N: this is my part of the bnharem may flower collab (and also my comeback fic? If that’s a thing?)! Special thanks to our girl @jojosmilktea​ for making the masterlist which you can find over here uwu 

Big shoutout to @redbeanteax​ too because I thought this was a hot mess at some point and she calmed me down aha-

Pairing: Todoroki Natsuo x reader

Description: “I think I’m dying.”

Warning: hospital setting, unknown disease (it’s a plot device that I have no research direction in please forgive me), mentions of death

Word count: 5191

-

“Natsuo?”

“Yes?” He looked up from the foot of your bed where he was checking the clip board that held all your information. 

You stared mindlessly ahead as if you were looking past him. Everything in the room was white. The sheets, your gown, his hair, the lights that made your head hurt, the pot by your bed that held the only bits of colour in your life at this point. It had been a while since there was more colour to your life than just the daffodils in the pot. You slowly lifted your hand up until it was right at your eyes.

Had your skin always be this lifeless?

“I think I’m dying.”

Natsuo froze at the spot when he heard what you just said, blood retreating from his face as your words made his heart shake. Your eyes were hollow as you slowly put your palms down again. You said with a such casual tone, one so nonchalant that it probably shouldn’t be used to announce something that held as much weight your own death.

He was shocked, but you didn’t look away. In fact, it wasn’t a prediction, you knew your end was near no matter what other people kept trying to say to you.

Natsuo blinked before regaining his posture, a stiff smile and forced chuckle finding its way to his lips. “Don’t be silly, of course you aren’t.”

You tilted your head and hummed, eyes not once leaving his broad frame when he sighed and ran his hand through that well-groomed hair.

Todoroki Natsuo. Friend first, doctor second. 

Just as you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you arrived at this ward, you couldn’t quite put a number on how long you had known the kind doctor as well. It must had been quite some time though, that you were certain of. Because you did have a distinct memory of laughing with him on the grass field of your old campus, the one with wild daffodils all around. It was when there was still a lingering boyishness to his laugh, one that you didn’t think you had heard in some time. You remembered the sun warming up the tip of your finger to which you were thankful for, because there was no way the uncomfortably pale lights above your head could compare to that.

Had it really been that long? You thought to yourself, subconsciously wrapping one hand around the other, and shivered when you felt how icy your fingers were. 

“Do you need me to get you a thicker blanket?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing as he watched your every move. 

“No,” you smiled, and somehow the slight lift of your lips that didn’t reach your eyes hurt him even more than it would if you had frowned, “I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, slipping the clip board back into the holder by the side. “Wait for me here.”

Natsuo stopped on his tracks the moment he took a turn at the corridor and reached a corner where he knew was out of his sight. He let out a heavy sigh, his breath trembled as his shoulder dropped. Had you expected him to just carry on like nothing happened? You just told him that you were dying for the love of god. Running his hand down his face in a desperate attempt to keep himself together, his mind was in pieces as he thought of you.

You. Patient first, crush second. 

He could remember the exact moment he met you. He had just got into college, finally away from the things that had kept him trapped for so long. He was young, ambitious, full of aspirations and anger. He had made a promise to himself that these coming years would be about him. For the first time in his life, he could finally had the privilege of having something that was all for him. 

Until he met you, and his entire world was flipped upside down.

He couldn’t pin point what it was that made him gravitates towards you. But the moment he heard your laugh from across the end of the hall, he knew he wanted to know you. You were walking with your friends, laptop in hand and pen behind your ear. Your eyes twinkling as you walked past him, completely unaware of how you had changed his entire life from that moment on. Natsuo didn’t even notice that you were gone like a flash until he finally regained his sense seconds after you walked past, cursing himself for acting like a dazed creep and just stood there instead of doing something useful. 

But thankfully, luck was on his side for once. When he opened the glass door to the nearest canteen, he had to physically restrain himself from gasping out loud. There you were, with an apron on and standing right in front of the cashier, bright smile on your face as if you were doing something more exciting than handing people change. He started showing up to that exact canteen every day in hope of being there during your shift, and he could not forget the joy that erupted in his chest the time you talked to him for longer than usual with no one else behind him in the line.

Short exchanges turned into paragraph long text messages into being near inseparable. For a long while, Natsuo told himself that he was content with being your friend. That was way more than he had expected when he stubbornly tried to get you to talk to him more by eating at the same canteen consecutively for months anyways. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realised that he could never truly wave away the lingering thought in his head that he wanted more. That if he had a choice and you wanted to give him a chance, he would not mind being the reason behind your smile every single day. 

It had been an awful long time since he saw you smile.

There were multiple times when he was very close to letting the bubbling feelings inside his chest took over the better part of him and every time he had caught it at the tip of his tongue just as it was about to slip. When you turned to him and asked him if there was anything wrong, he would always smile back and brushed it off, trying to fight the lasso around his heart that was pulling tighter and tighter until it became hard for him to even breath. 

It was almost shameful in a way, but he was scared. Every time just as he made a promise to himself that it would be the time he tell you how he truly felt, it was the same smile that attracted him to your side making him swallow his own words back into the pit of his stomach. It was precious, you were precious, what if he lost it in just mere seconds because of his own impulsiveness? He was scared of the idea that one day your eyes would dim when you see him, that you would turn away nd try your best to end the conversation when there was a time when times flew by as you talked and talked and talked. He loved you badly, but he was afraid of losing you even worse. So he hid it, tried his best to soothe the pounding in his chest in exchange to keep what he had right now for longer.

Todoroki Natsuo spent years being your friend, and in all honesty, with all the sincerity in his heart, he was grateful for it. Really, but it did not stop him from imagining the way your hand would feel fitting into his and the thought of waking up to your every morning. It was a shock to him even, that even after so long, he still failed to convince himself that he was content with being your friend.

It was a warm, summer afternoon. He remembered very clearly, because it was supposed to be the day he stopped running away. He had planned to tell you that he loved you, in a way far beyond what you expected him to. For real this time, he had told himself when he got a text from you asking if he was free to come meet up at the spot that used to be your favourite when you were at school, this time he would not back away no matter what the result might be. 

That was what he had told himself, but when he saw your lips pursed together and your hands fidgeting from the far corner of the field among the yellow dots of wild daffodils with a sorrow he had never seen in your eyes before, he knew that he might have to betray his own promise for once more. 

You had planned to be calm when you eventually tell him the news, but all of your composure was shattered the moment Natsuo kneeled down beside you and asked you if everything was alright before you even saying anything. There was something about being treated with tenderness at a time of vulnerability that touched your soul to the depth of its core and it did not even take you to open your mouth for him to know that you were putting up a front you could not carry on with. 

He panicked when the first drop of tears rolled down your chin, his frame towering over yours as he tried to comfort you by shielding you from the rest of the world.

He was gonna tell you how much he loved you, he was certain that this was the day his years of yearning finally ends. But as the world melted away and all he could focus on was your muffled cries as you told him, struggling and pain dripping from your cheeks, that your body was being slowly decayed away by a sickness no one could manage to name, he came to the realisation that whatever he had to say, it could wait.

He had loved you silently for years and he decided that could do it for as long as you were around. For now, you needed him as your friend, and so that was what he would do.

He stayed by your side through each step you took further down the road, even as his heart shattered at the sight of you growing weaker and weaker. It wasn’t your shaky hands or the hollow of your face that pained him, it was the dullness in your eyes that he could not ignore as much as he tried. He took his field of study for a reason, but there wasn’t a time when he had prayed to all the gods he could name that there was a cure somewhere hidden within the stacks and stacks of reports he drilled into his head as much as he did when he saw you sitting by the window, staring outside at the hospital courtyard almost lifelessly.

He fell in love in an instance the first time he caught a glimpse of the stars in your eyes, but he wasn’t sure what he would do if the day when there was no more light in the sky descends.

“I think I’m dying.”

Your voice echoed through the void in his head that he tried to fill with happy memories of the past and brought him back to the present, when he could hear the ac of the hospital and the beeping of machines. Natsuo shook off the terror that loomed at the back of his head as he clutched the blanket in his hand. 

He was overthinking, he thought to himself as he spun on his heels. His steps heavy and more rapid, nearly as messy as the million of thoughts that was screaming in his head right now. 

(How could he live thinking you couldn’t?)

They were overthinking, the forced voice of rationality repeated as he took a deep breath at your door. It would be alright, they would be alright.

He didn’t eve notice how natural it was for the corner of his lips to lift up the moment he pushed open the door. As if he could pretend the weight pulling his heart all the way down to the pit of his stomach wasn’t there if you didn’t see past the smile on his face.

“I got you a blanket.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly as he laid the soft fabric on top of you.

“I think I’ll have to go, my shift is about to start.” He said as he tucked down the corners. He didn’t even work in the wing of the hospital you were staying in but yet he was here every day, no exceptions. You had tried to tell him that there was no need to check up on your every day, guilt lumping at your throat when you caught him yawing when he thought you weren’t looking. It was no use, of course, Todoroki Natsuo was a rather stubborn one if he had already made up his mind. “I’ll come check back on you before I leave today, yeah?”

“Of course,” you replied, pushing down the urge to tell him to rest a little, that you would rather have him spend that time on himself than on you. He would argue that he did it because he wanted to and you could already imagine the look of hurt and disapproval when you eventually let slip that you thought there was no hope for you. You weren’t even sure if he truly believed that there was hope in your recovery or that it was for the mere purpose of cheering you up at this point, but he had always held more hope for you than you did yourself. 

You paused as he was about to turn away.

“Natsuo?”

“Hm?”

“Can you help me water the flowers before you go?”

The ceramic pot sitting by your bed was no fancy item and neither was the small flowers standing up soundly inside. Natsuo got you the small plant when you first moved into the ward and he beamed when he saw how fond you were of the buds of chamomile. They reminded you of happier times, you had told him as you traced one of the petals with your finger. Even though you did not even dare to think of the possibility of ever seeing the daffodiles fields again, at least the faint smell of the flowers could bring your mind a bit of peace.

You took great care of the plant and it was the little bit of leisure you could steal from the dullness of having no where to go. It had barely blossomed when he bought the plant but it had grown so much taller now that he paid attention to it. 

If only some of its vitality could be spared to you... 

“Sure.”

As he carefully wet the soil, he was almost shocked when he saw that one of the flowers had wilted. It was dried out, lifeless as it curled at the roots. You were always so attentive to the pot of flowers that any browned leaves would be plucked away before anyone could notice, how come one of the flowers had died and you didn’t do anything about it?

“I’ve decided to leave it there,” you were quick to noticing his silence, “I woke up this morning to see that one of the flowers died. I was going to pick it out but not doing that. There isn’t much point denying a natural process anyways.” 

He could almost hear the hollow of your words in his head again as he looked at the dying flower.  

(”I think I’m dying.”)

“Maybe it’s only this one,” he said, trying to ignore how odd your calmness was to him, “I’m sure the rest will keep growing strong.”

You sighed, and he wasn’t sure what to do with how defeated that sound was. “I hope so.”

-

“Do you think the flowers are dying because it has been trapped here for too long?”

You didn’t look away from the pot as you talked, your brows furrowing together as you spotted more and more of the stems showing signs of yellowing. It had only been days since the first flower wilted but there seemed to be no sign of slowing down for the decay of the plant. What went wrong? You wondered, remembering clearly that you had taken care of it just the same way you did all along. 

Perhaps it really was a signal.

“Maybe it’s the lack of sun light?” Natsuo said, containing the urge to just snatch the pot out of your hand as he pick up the visible downturn of your mood the longer you look at it. “Should we put it somewhere near the window?”

You stared at him for a while as he extended his hands to you before gingerly handing the pot over. 

Could it be that the stuffy room had sped up the years? Or did you water it too much? Not enough? You could push it to the back of your head at first. You could try to pretend it didn’t bother you at all for as much as you tried but it would be a lie to say you had already accepted it. You didn’t look away when they showed you the black and white cast on the film that was supposed to be your body, you did not even budged when they pointed out where it went wrong. You nodded without a hint of grimace when they later told you that they didn’t know what exactly went wrong, only that it was slowly reaping you away.

At first it was regular check ups, and then at some point the doctor advised that it was best for you to stay in the hospital all together. You only cried once. Not when you knew that all your plans were shattered by this unknown illness that was eating at you, not when you realised it would be a long time until you could see the fields you loved again. The only time you cried was when you told him that maybe nothing in your life would stay the same anymore. You weren’t sure what it was about Todoroki Natsuo that made you feel so strong and so small all at once. Perhaps it was the knowing that even for just the split second you stood with him among the dandelion, you were safe. 

You couldn’t fathom what your world would be like if you didn’t have at least someone to look forward to each day in this plain ward, you could imagine that it must be lonely.

Todoroki Natsuo. Friend first and foremost, even though sometimes you wonder if you deserve it.

He had so kindly bought you those flowers as a way to make the four walls a bit less cold, putting bits and pieces of life back into you for as much as your weakening hands can grab onto. But now they were dying, and it seemed like nothing you do could stop life from slipping away.

“There,” Natsuo said as he placed the pot on the windowsill, “I’m sure it’ll be better now.”

You did not have the heart to say that you were almost sure that there was no turning back at this point. 

“Should I help you water it before I go?” he asked, rolling up the sleeve of his coat as he said so. Tilting his head as he saw that your mind was elsewhere, he took one step closer to you. “(y/n)?”

“Hm?” You snapped up to look at him. Pausing to think about what he had just said, you tried to brush off all the thoughts and doubts in your head with a smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

“It’ll be growing again in no time,” He said, trying to sound as convincing as he could be, “don’t worry about it.”

You could only force yourself to nod.

-

It seemed like nature was not on his side after all.

Natsuo nearly gasped when he saw the pot of daffodil, no, the tangling weed on your window. There was only one left, one last yellow flower standing among the dried out leaves that surrounded it. 

“I don’t think it will last till tomorrow.” you said. You were leaning against the headboard, it was starting to get harder and harder for you to sit up without any help now. You had no idea why, you had barely done anything but you were always tired. You couldn’t even water the flowers yourself if you try, you always get Natsuo or the nurse who checks in on your every once in a while to do it for you. “It is still watered regularly and all that, I have no idea what went wrong.”

“Would it be that we water it too much?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. You even asked the florist for directions, remember?”

“The pot is not big enough?”

You let out a weak laugh, one that sounded more like a cough instead and he winced at how you almost sounded hoarse. “But it was fine for weeks after the flowers grew out?”

“Maybe it’s ventilation-”

“Natsuo,” you cut him off, your head dropping as his face softens at your calling of his name, “it’s fine.”

Running his head through his hair, he sighed before swinging it down in defeat. “I’m sorry”

“What are you apologising for? It’s not your fault.” You chuckled, your head tilting as you fidgeted with your hands. You could barely feel the temperature of your own skin. “All things have an end, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

It wasn’t, but deep down he still had a feeling that he had failed the one role he tried so hard to keep up with. He wanted to make it less painful for you, whether it was possible or not. He felt a horrible stir in his stomach upon the instinct that you were not talking about the flowers. He wanted to stop you, but you didn’t let him as you carried on.

“Daffodils are the prettiest when it’s out in the wild, with the sun and the wind blowing through,” you looked almost enamored by the sight you were conjuring in your head, a dream-like trance draping over your eyes, “you can only keep it in a room for so long until it eventually gets sick of the lights and the walls.”

You wished you could see the daffodil fields one more time.

He didn’t even realise how his nails were dug into his palm until the ache turned dull. Natsuo sighed, “Do you want me to water it anyways? Maybe we can keep the last flower.”

“No need,” you shrugged a little, your breath almost shaky as you exhaled, “I say we let it be, maybe it’s better that way.”

And there it was, the same acceptance in your tone as if it didn’t bother you at all. But he knew you better, acceptance only came after you give up on the possibility that you would be given a chance not to accept fate. 

("I think I’m dying.”)

“But-”

“It’s fine, Natsu, really,” you said, shaking your head a little as if to wave away whatever it was lingering in your mind before looking up at him with a smile. You smile, but there was no twinkle in your eyes anymore. “You should go get some rest, you have a long shift today.”

“It’s ok, I-”

“I’m feeling tired anyways,” you laughed when you saw that he didn’t even budge, your eyebrows raising a little to the best of your ability, “go!”

Despite your persistence, Natsuo could not bring himself to leave without taking one secretive glance at the last standing daffodil at the window. Maybe you were right, maybe it would not last till tomorrow. HIs heart sank at the thought and how even though you sounded like it was all set in stone for you, he knew that stripping away this last memory of the life you had before falling ill would be the final stone to your desperation. 

He wouldn’t pretend that he was going through all the turmoil for nothing but his care for you. Perhaps it was a bit selfish too, but he secretly wished that there would be a day when he could finally told you those words he buried deep within time after time. 

He was hoping, praying that you could see the day it happens. But for now, as he stared at the lone yellow flower under the golden hour sunlight from outside the door, this plan that seemed near impossible would just have to make do.

-

Your head was heavy when you wake up again.

You dreamt of home last night only to open your eyes to face the harsh reality of the white ceiling. It had been so long, honestly it was more surprising that it could still faze you. In your dream, everything was so real, so real that the disappointment when you broke out of it hurt even more.

You thought you had accepted that this was all there was left to your life already.

“Morning (y/n).”

You twisted your head to the side to see the nurse in charge of your ward fixing the curtains. She was very nice, and you always enjoyed seeing her every morning. You wondered if she had seen you stirring awake just then.

“Morning,”

Gripping the bar of your bed, you tried your best to sit yourself up. Your eyes fell onto the pot when she moved. It was a gut feeling when you said you knew it wasn’t going to live past today, and you were almost said to say that you were right. It was just dried out leaves laying lifelessly on the soil now, who would have known how beautiful it once was if they had seen it now?

“It’s so sad that the flowers wilted,” the nurse pitied, “they make the room so much nicer.”

You sighed, letting out a mindless mumble of agreement.

“You have been so out of your element lately,” she said, “maybe we should open the curtains in here, sunlight would be good for your spirit, no?”

Seeing as you did not object, she held both curtain in hand and pulled it apart. The morning sun immediately shined into the room through the window, you could almost imagine the warmth on your skin.

But the moment she looked out, she gasped.

“Oh my...”  she clasped her hand around her mouth in shock, “(y/n) you need to see this!”

Your brows locked together in confusion. You had seen the court before, you used to sit by the window all day long when you felt better. What was it that made her reacted like that? 

Your eyes squinted from the light as she helped you to the window. Putting a hand on your forehead to block the sun, you looked out as you pondered what could possibly be out there that she insisted that you must see it yourself.

Your breath stopped when you finally saw what was in the court.

That was not real. You could not believe your own eyes, how was it even possible?

You did not look away even once when the hand supporting your arms slowly retreated away, replaced by a pair of larger palms.

You could feel your eyes welling up when you heard his voice.

“So,” you did not need to look at him to know that Natsuo was smiling, “thoughts?”

“Did you do this?”

He chuckled, “Do what?”

Your gripped his arm as you turned to look at him. He was grinning ear to ear, and that was the answer you needed.

All you saw was an ocean of yellow flowers. Down in the hospital courtyard, every inch of the ground was covered with daffodils. They were blooming, every single one of them as the sun shined onto each bud. It was almost like the petals were emitting a golden glow. It was still the same grey walls, but for the first time since you got here, you found yourself not wanting to look away.

You never thought you would ever get to see this sight again, but somehow he managed to bring the fields to you.

You didn’t even know you were laughing as the tears roll down your face until his swept away the drop with his thumb. It was the same smile that pulled him to you and never left. He didn’t even know how much he had missed the sight of it until butterflies erupted in his chest as you looked up at him.

He would give you all the flowers in the world just to keep that smile.

“How did you do that?” you were at awe as you looked between the sea of flowers and back at him.

“Well,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I called in every single florist in town to see if they have daffodils. It was probably the universe helping that I could get that many, really.”

You sucked in a deep breath at the thought of him going from store to store even when he was probably already exhausted from work just to make you happy. “You really shouldn’t-”

“But do you like it?” He asked, eyebrows raising like he knew he could win you over any argument you were trying to raise.

You paused, biting your lips before replying. “Yeah?”

“Then it means I should do it.” He said, and you felt like you could get lost in his eyes as he stared right into the depths of your soul, “I’ll do anything for you, you know that.”

It was not a question, he had always supposed you should know that he meant every word and as much as you knew that he was the best thing to have ever happened to you, there was so little things you could think of that was more precious than someone believing in a future for you more than you did yourself.

You never deserved him, although he would be the one to protest against that thought.

Todoroki Natsuo. Friend, now and always would be, but maybe something more too.

“You’re gonna get into so much trouble for that...”

“I could get it here in one night, I’m sure I can get it out in just as little time too.” You laughed as he poked his tongue out and winked. 

His hand was so warm against your back.

“When I’m finally out of here,” you said and he nearly beamed, “let’s go see the daffodils again.”

Natsuo had waited years to tell you that he loved you. But at that moment, he was starting to believe that there was never a need for that.

“Of course.”

[wylanvnneck]

@rinadragomir said: Jace/Clary, He broke her favourite mug

Humourous Prompt #4: “So, you broke my favourite mug…and you’re breaking up with me?”

Fandom: TMI

Ship: Clace

Masterlist | Prompt List

Alternate Universe - Normal College Setting

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarissa Fairchild’s day had started out quite well. It was noon and the yellow afternoon sun was streaming in through her bedroom windows, illuminating the canvas that she was currently illustrating with vibrant colours and impeccable shading as it stood propped up on its easel.

The sound of Taylor Swift’s soft voice singing ‘The 1’ from her Swiftie Playlist is the only thing to break the silence and it’s peaceful and it’s good and it’s almost like she’s on some higher plane, a plane that she’s currently trying to commit to memory through her painting of a luscious green landscape which had a glossy mirror-like lake at its center with the wispy white beginnings of what would soon be a majestic angel rising out of its depths.

She’s just adding in some touches of dappled sky blue, dipping her brush in the mug of water on the table beside her when the tranquility of the moment is quickly cut off by the sound of rapid knocking on her door. Sighing, the red head contemplates simply not answering before yet another volley of knocks echoes, sounding rather urgent, and so, reluctantly, she stabs her paint covered paint brush through her bun and heads to the door, opening it to reveal the sight of...Jace?

His hands are fidgeting and there’s a frantic look in his golden eyes as he steps forward, opens his mouth, then closes it, only to open it again.

“Clary...can I come in?”

She’s confused. What exactly was her boyfriend of two weeks doing showing up at her room unannounced looking like he’d seen a ghost? Particularly the same boyfriend who’d been avoiding her texts and effectively ghosting her for the last 48 hours, much to her chagrin.

She raises an auburn eyebrow, before stepping back to indicate that he could come in.

“Look Clary, I know that you’re probably a bit mad at me at the moment but I-” 

He breaks off, his hands are still wringing together in agitation and Clary is extremely perplexed by his odd behaviour. Where was the usually suave and over-confident Jace Herondale? The Jace who had been present mere days ago during the last time she’d seen him, when he’d dropped her off at her dorm room doorway after escorting her to an art exhibition, pressing her up against the door and placing a searing kiss on her lips before saying goodnight.

“Jace. What are you doing here?”

His eyes are molten liquid and anguish as he stands in the middle of her tiny room, the sunlight highlighting him and setting his golden locks on fire. He’s two feet away from where she’s still positioned by the doorway, close enough for the scent of his sharp cologne to reach her.

Instead of answering her question, he turns and starts agitatedly pacing the room, his speed increasing as the seconds pass. 

She was still asleep. This was all just a fever dream that her crazed mind had conjured up in her sleep, it had to be, that was the only explanation for this bemusing scenario that she’s currently finding herself in.

“Right ok, so, remind me, in cases of dreams like this, the protocol is usually to pinch yourself, correct?”

“What?” 

He sounds harried and more than a little puzzled as he pauses his relentless pacing for a moment before resuming and she can’t believe that Dream Jace thinks he has the right to find her confusing when he himself was acting this way.

“Alrighty Dream Jace, you just uhh, carry on with your exercising whilst I finish up over here,” she gestures pointlessly towards her almost finished canvas. After all, even if this was just a dream, there was no paint in wasting a perfectly good painting.

“This isn’t a dream Clary, it’s one hundred percent real.’ He pauses. “Although I wish it wasn’t.”

She sees it happening split seconds before he does. His frantic strides had been getting closer and closer to her little desk by her easel, the same desk which held not only her paintings but also her two medium sized white ceramic mugs, one with the words ‘Paint Water’ and the other with the words ‘Not Paint Water’ printed on them. They were a set, gifted to her by her mother when she’d moved into her dorm room and they were Clary’s absolute favourite utensils. 

There’s a sinking feeling in her gut as she watches one of them (the ‘Not Paint Water’) start to tremble as Jace whips past it, the momentum proving to be too much for the little mug to take and within the span of milliseconds it careens towards the floor, the sounds of crashing reverberating through the room. 

The look on Jace’s face is one of absolute horror. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t realise.” 

He cuts himself off when he sees her wordlessly stalk to the scene of the crime, bending over the shards and carefully picking up the larger ones with her bare hands and dropping them into the bin.

Still white-faced he rushes to help her and knocks his head on the side of the desk in the process of crouching down next to her. 

Clary’s had enough of this.

Straightening up, she towers over him, giving him her best glare as she plants her hands on her hips. “Jace, seriously, what is going on with you?”

Slowly, he stands up to meet her eye-level, only, he’s a lot taller than she is and she resists the temptation to stand on her tiptoes.

He heaves a deep breath before meeting her eyes. “Clary, I think that you and I should break up.”

There’s total silence. Well, except for the quiet sounds of Taylor Swift’s 22 playing in the background. What a horrendous choice of background music for this moment.

She clears her throat. “So, you broke my favourite mug…and you’re breaking up with me?”

Immediately, he unleashes a torrent of nearly unintelligible words in reply.

“I didn’t mean to break your mug, I swear, but as to us breaking up, it’s just, I’ve been thinking, you’re so good and kind and smart and a great artist and by the angel you’re hot, but you deserve better than someone like me, you deserve a lot better than an orphaned kid who spent his younger years being raised by a deranged foster parent that made him into a monster.”

His voice cracks on that last word.

Her brows knit together as she struggles to understand what he’s just dropped on her. Jace never spoke too much about his foster father, but it was clear that Valentine had really done a number on him as a child and once again she’s overwhelmingly grateful to the Lightwoods, the family that had taken Jace in once Valentine had gone to prison. 

Her heart gives a pang as she looks at the dejected man in front of her. Stepping forward, she reaches out and gently takes his hand in hers, her other hand traveling upwards to rest against his cheek and make him meet her eyes once more.

“Listen to me, you are not a monster. The only monster is Valentine, definitely not you, not the same boy who defended his adopted brother from the jerks who bullied him for being gay, not the same boy who once beat up a boy in high school for making his little sister cry and certainly not the kind and wonderful man who made me fall in love with him over this past year.”

 It’s the first time she’s said that she loves him and she might be a little worried that it was too early, no matter how true, but his eyes are burning into hers now and they seem to see inside her soul, looking for honesty and validation and hope and she gives it to him. He must have found what he was searching for in her gaze because he then crushes her to him, holding her tightly and breathing into her hair.

“Oh thank the Angel. I love you too, have for months.”

They stand like that for ages, savouring the moment and breathing the other in before the light darkens and Clary’s stomach rumbles, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. She pulls away from him, still smiling and grasping his hand in hers as she tugs him towards the doorway. 

“Come on, let’s head to Taki’s and grab a bite. Oh, and Jace?”

‘Yes, love?”

“You’re cleaning up that mess and buying me a new mug when we get back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hopefully, that wasn’t too cheesy. Anyways, I hope you liked it Rina and thank you for being such an awesome mutual:))

Tagging: @too-many-aspirations and @cupcakesandkittens 

To any other people reading this, please let me know if you’d like to be added to my TMI tag list for possible future fics🦕❤

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 9

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 9 - Flee

The flame on the table moved.

"It's here," A-Yan said, and then motioned Lin Yan to pay attention to what was behind him. Lin Yan turned around and saw that there was nothing unusual. Then he saw it.

There are obviously only three of them in the room, but there were four shadows on the wall.

Different from the familiar silence, the fourth shadow on the wall was constantly moving this time, like it was pacing around the house. At first, it moved extremely slowly, and then it got faster and faster. For a while, it hurriedly walked straight in one direction, then returned, and finally started to circle around them.

"He's looking for you," A-Yan said softly.

There was also a strange noise outside the door, like a stone falling into the water or a tree branch breaking. Soon, the courtyard was overwhelmed by the wind, and the door and windows were all squeaking. Then there was knocking on the door, like countless people waiting to come in. Not only at the door, but there were also eager knocks from the windows on all sides. Lin Yan was terrified and turned his head to see out of the window. He was met with an old face and saw an old man standing slanting by the window, wearing a full Manchu costume, and carrying a faint green lantern in his hand.

The figures in the yard gradually increased.

"Don't-, don't be afraid." A-Yan grabbed Lin Yan's hand and whispered softly: "They usually come in at this time to eat the steamed buns in the temple. They are all poor people, and there's no one to support them after they die."

Lin Yan felt that even if 2012 was really the end of the world, he would not be surprised. (T/N: This novel was written in 2012 just so this comment doesn't seem out of nowhere)

A person appeared silently in the net made by the red ropes in the room.

In the shadowy candlelight, Lin Yan saw the man; he had dark hair that parted at his forehead and hung in disarray, covering most of his face. He was very tall, with wide sleeves hanging straight and loosely on his body, splattering with old brown bloodstains. Lin Yan bit his lower lip and tried his best not to start hyperventilating. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. Almost at the same time, the temple master stood up abruptly, took out a yellow paper from the table and inserted it in the incense burner. He spread out the yellow paper and made a scratch on his finger. Using his now bloodied finger, he quickly sketched on the paper.

The "person" in the shadow of the lamp suddenly walked back and forth in the house like he had been offended. He hit the red rope and was forced to return, but he was reluctant, and he staggered back. This weird scene made Lin Yan break out in a cold sweat, and a light sigh of surprise overflowed from his throat uncontrollably, "Heh—"

The ghost suddenly raised his head, his messy hair blocking Lin Yan's ruthless eyes. His black eyes were filled with strong killing intent, and they suddenly made eye contact! Almost without warning, his stiff body turned to Lin Yan and rushed towards him in a few strides. Lin Yan trembled all over his body and tried to hold his breath. The ghost stopped less than half a meter away from him and looked around harshly as if it couldn't see the target anymore.

Just when Lin Yan was running out of breath, the ghost finally gave up, turned around and rushed over.

The temple master began to recite a strange mantra, and A-Yan joined in. It was obvious that only two people were speaking, but there were echoes from all corners of the room. The red ropes shook together, and the ghost's steps became flustered. The barefooted figure smashed around like a fly in the room, swaying and almost falling to the ground. As the chanting of the mantra became louder and louder, the ghost staggered to the ground like he enduring great pain. He crawled around and tried to stand up, scanning the room frantically and impatiently but couldn't find his target.

The temple master pulled Lin Yan’s arm, motioned him to stay silent with his glare, and then made a deep cut in his forearm with a knife. The moment the blood poured out, Lin Yan seemed to hear the ghost let out a heavy gasp. Using all fours together, he crawled over to Lin Yan from the other end of the room. Every time he moved his body, it was as slow as torture, but it didn't stop. A-Yan picked up the cypress block with the paper figure on the table, rubbed Lin Yan's blood on the red paper. He grabbed the wound and covered the forearm, and threw the double cypress toward the middle of the house.

The ghost let out a low groan, as if he had exhausted all his energy and rushed towards the cypress on the ground. His hands kept tearing at the paper man above. The next scene made Lin Yan completely stunned. The ghost knelt on the ground, holding the block, and he leaned down and began to kiss it. He rubbed his lips against the blood-stained red paper, like holding a lost treasure.

The expression of the temple master turned vicious in an instant. He took up the short knife on the table, bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed the blood mist on the blade. The tip of the blade was facing the direction of the ghost, and the yellow paper on the table lit on fire, crackling and burning into a ball of fire. In the raging fire, the whole body of the ghost twitched violently, and his throat kept making vague groans. However, he did not resist at all and even refused to move his body. He hugged the cypress tightly in his arms, snuggling it up to his cheek in desperation and nostalgia. . .

The inexplicable shock made Lin Yan take a step back. He had never seen such a look in his life; desperate, crazy, resentful, cruel and unwilling, staring straight at the wood in his arms, touching the doll covered in Lin Yan's blood.

A big mouthful of blood poured out from the ghost's mouth and ran down the corners of his lips. The drops stained his jade-coloured shirt. His hair scattered all over the place, and also stained with maroon blood. It was a tragic scene. Lin Yan shook his head. This was simply not right. There must be some kind of mistake. How could someone who could stare at him with this kind of eyes hurt him. . .

"Buzzzzzzz. . ."

Lin Yan's phone was on vibration mode. The white light off the screen looked out of place in the flame light, and a text message popped up: "Gu's autopsy report was changed. I hacked into the hospital's archive system. The time of death on the autopsy report was different than the time the police gave us. It was three hours earlier."

Then comes the second: "I suspect that someone is interfering in this matter. Lin Yan, be careful."

Lin Yan thoughtfully recalled that the death certificate issued by the police station stated that the old woman died at 1 o'clock in the morning, so her actual time of death was instead 10 o'clock the night before. At that time, he was fighting with the ghost in front of him in the elevator. He looked at the time before going upstairs, there was no mistake about that.

He didn't even think about Yin Zhou's second text message. It was like water had been thrown onto him. Lin Yan clenched his fist, and was shocked by the disturbing scene before him. He was speechless, swallowing hard. What was he doing? He stubbornly thinks that he could never kill a living person, but does that mean he should be so willing to scatter an undeserving ghost's soul?!

Like using cubs as bait to catch she-wolves, the methods of human beings were more despicable than ghosts.

"Stop!" Lin Yan shouted at the temple master.

The temple owner was now like the enemy: "Shut up! We'll deal with that when we're finished!"

A-Yan also panicked. "Brother Lin Yan, don't say anything, it's too late to stop now!"

The eyes of the temple master were revealed in an instant, and the short knife sprayed with blood was raised high, facing the ground. The whole house seemed to be shaken by an invisible giant hand, creaking noises came from the window frames, eaves, and walls. The wandering souls that had gathered in the courtyard also seemed to be irritated; whimpering, screaming, and wailing sounded together. A cold light flashed on the short knife, which would be pierced through the concrete floor, sending ghosts back into the ground!

With a crisp snap, the yellow paper inserted in the incense burner broke into two pieces.

The ghost slowly raised his head, staring straight at Lin Yan with red eyes under his slanting eyebrows.

It only takes a moment to make a decision. Lin Yan doesn't know where he finds this courage. He tucked his phone into his pant pocket and rushed towards the ghost. A human and a ghost pressed together. Lin Yan wanted to grab the cypress block in his hands, but the ghost's persistence was amazing. His hands were stuck on the wood block. No matter how Lin Yan tried, he couldn't shake him at all.

There was another talisman paper shining. The ghost in the shadow of the lamp completely gave up resisting, curled up on the ground. He shielded the cypress between his thigh and chest, like a poor lunatic, full of unwillingness and resentment, moving backwards with difficulty.

With nothing but love on his lips, who would truly spare his life? This desperate ghost was more sentimental and righteous than humans.

With panicked thoughts, Lin Yan used his tongue to clean the wounds of his arms, resisting the pain and biting hard. The bitter and sour taste rushed into his throat with the blood, and the freshly coagulated blood was unbound by saliva and poured out again. After it started bleeding again, Lin Yan put his arm in front of the grimace, gritted his teeth and said, "I'm here, follow me!"

The ghost looked up at him suspiciously, Lin Yan whispered: "Hey, throw that stuff away."

"Let's go."

"A-Yan, stop this foolish boy!"

Lin Yan grabbed the ghost's hand and dragged him from the ground to the door, and used his feet to disperse the incense ashes. When the formation was broken, the copper coins pressed on the incense ashes bounced straight out with a few clinking noises. Lin Yan busied himself untying the red ropes. Who knew that the ropes were tied so well that there was no quick way to undo them?

Lin Yan turned back in a panic, and saw A-Yan walking towards him with a pale face, holding the talisman. He stumbled and fell to the ground, lifting his pointed face, and gently whispered, "Quickly go."

He was wasting too much time. Lin Yan untied the ropes with his teeth, and rushed out of the temple door with the ghost!

There was a great deal of mourning happening outside the temple. the mountain owls given sullen expressions, and the small courtyard was filled with black air. The jujube tree with its crooked trunk looked as fierce as a dead body with extended bony fingers. It seems that the lonely ghosts in the hundreds of miles around the area had been attracted. In the courtyard The holy spirit banners were pelted by strong winds. On the well sat a drenched female ghost, and "people" dressed as eunuchs in ragged clothes gathered together, their paper lanterns hung in the sky. There was a dark purple constriction on the neck of the person in the front. "I am wronged by my death. . ."

Lin Yan dragged the ghost behind him and ran towards where he parked his car. He was trembling as he pulled out the key, but no matter how hard he pressed it, the beep sound of unlocking the door could not be heard. The magnetic field in the mountain had completely changed, and the remote keys did not work. Lin Yan shaky hands stuffed the key into the keyhole, and he finally opened the door of the car and threw the ghost into the passenger seat. But there was no chance that he could have three lucky breaks happen.

The evil spirit regained consciousness from the pain of the spell. He clasped Lin Yan's throat with his nails, and slowly tightened, a pair of black holes in the messy hair glaring up. . .

"You don't know how to fucking drive. Just sit still for me!" Lin Yan yelled at him irritably, "Who cares if you strangle me to death!"

The hands on the neck didn't make any more moves.

Sure enough, the ghost was afraid of the wicked. Lin Yan pushed him harshly to the chair and put the seatbelt around his waist: "Take a gamble. It's fucking worthless to be killed by this braid army!"

He slammed down hard on the accelerator, twisted the key vigorously, and, with a bang, the car started.

"Sit still." Lin Yan clicked the corner of his mouth, holding the steering wheel, and the black Audi A4 galloped away like in the F1 Grand Prix in the night.

[monstersandmaw]

Yup. Part One. This absolute monstrosity quite literally grew wings and took on a life of its own, so yes, there will be a part two shortly, and it will be NSFW.

I shared the mood board/aesthetic for this over on Discord and a couple of people said they were excited, so I hope you enjoy it! It's set in Old Trollbridge, and you may pick up a passing reference to another character whose story was set here... Let me know in the comments if you remember them... Thanks also for your wonderful and enthusiastic feedback on Winter Solstice Chapter Five!

Contents: former school bullies, reader with a very slight potty-mouthed internal monologue, being physically attracted to someone(s!) that you didn't like intellectually/emotionally, watching said people kiss/be physically affectionate, the old 'oh no we've been paired on a project and will have to work together now or we'll get bad marks' trope, and some general growing up :) Wordcount: 5766

Chunky preview:

Winding up at the same university as the two biggest dicks from high school would have been - trying - enough, but to end up not only in the same department but also in the same damned classes was just downright cruel of fate. And yes, that was absolutely the right word for them.

The University of Old Trollbridge was known for its academic excellence in all areas, from cutting edge medicine to more traditional approaches, and the centuries-old institution was a bastion of learning, with places hotly contested. You’d nearly run herself into the ground in school to pass the right exams to get here - to leave all the pettiness of high school behind and finally start over - and here they were. It was going to be exactly the same. You could feel it. They’d worm their way to the top of the hierarchy again, and everyone would worship the ground they touched, and it would all just be awful.

“Fucking hell. This isn’t happening,” you cursed, watching the familiar and very particular hue of the naga’s dark green scales as he slithered across the entrance hall of the history faculty building, his muscular tail rippling with a million iridescent, deep emerald green colours. The atrium wasn’t exactly flooded with light, so somehow he looked like a living shadow.

People watched him; everywhere he went, people noticed him. He was probably one of the more famous undergraduates the university had had in recent years, what with his family’s ancient bloodline and apparently endless bank vaults, and his brief but extremely successful stint in modelling. The fact that the naga and his best friend (and almost literal sex god), Iltho, had gained a place was not all that much of a surprise to anyone, but you’d hoped they wouldn’t have chosen the same flipping department as you for their undergraduate studies. Not that they could be accused of paying their way in; for starters, the university had not accepted that kind of thing for generations.

No, they were both beautiful and unbearably smart too.

It was indecently unfair.

Your lip curled. Just as you’d been about to turn away, your roommate caught up with you. You’d put down that you didn’t mind who you were put with - gender or species - and for once, you’d actually lucked out. Rachel was an extremely talented spell caster, and, from what you’d seen of her in the first two days of your acquaintance, extremely tidy. “What’s up?” she asked, smiling up at you from beneath a thick curtain of vibrant, pastel pink hair. She was also about a foot shorter than you.

You jutted your chin at the naga.

“Oh my god, that’s… wow. I didn’t know we had a celebrity in our department!” she giggled, elbowing you playfully in the side. “Gods above… he’s gorgeous. It’s sinful. It shouldn’t be allowed. How am I supposed to concentrate in Old High Runic if he’s sitting there looking like that?”

“He’s also a massive cock,” you snorted. Fucking ‘Drake Shimmerscale’. Even his name was a giant cliche. Fancy noble lines with their fancy stupid names.

She tilted her head curiously. “You… know him?”

“Went to school with the bastard. Him and his best friend -” you cut off, eyes widening, as a second figure strode out of a doorway and exclaimed loudly. “Fucking… speak of the devil.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” she said, her eyes also locked on the newest arrival. It was easy to see why she’d thought you’d been referring to his appearance; his skin was a deep, ruby red, he had enormous, black, curved horns, a blunt-ended tail, and the bat-like wings that hung down his back looked like they’d been dipped in dark ink at the tips. He was also built like a bull and turned heads wherever he went, and here was no exception. Of course, the incubus would have to keep his ‘influence’ under control while at the university, but that didn't mean he didn't just naturally exude sex appeal anyway. Six-foot-something tall, with long, black hair that he usually wore pulled back into a thick braid studded with golden beads, he had flashing golden eyes and a mouth made for kissing.

Everyone had fantasised about being with him (and/or Drake) at school. Iltho had looked twenty-five since the age of fourteen, and acted like it too. Confident, cocky, quietly arrogant, also filthy rich, and stupendously intelligent, there was nothing that Iltho didn’t have. Really, the duo had made a striking pair, with the milk-white of Drake’s skin and the heated crimson of Iltho’s, their gemstone eyes of yellow and green, and their aloof personalities. The pair had ruled the school without having to do so much as lift a finger. They’d also done nothing to stop the lesser bullies posturing and vying for their attention. ‘Popular’ they may have been, but they’d also been about as liked as a Nightmare at a slumber party.

“No,” you said. “It’s not harsh. They’re both awful and they made life hell for the rest of us.” And with that you turned away, heading for the library.

You fumed as you stalked along the corridor and up the stairs towards the department’s ancient library. Yours was, appropriately enough for the History Faculty, one of the oldest buildings in the university, and it was absolutely everything you’d ever hoped for or dreamed from Old Trollbridge. The sheer aesthetic of it was mesmerising. Taking a huge, deep breath of the slightly musty air as you stepped into the library, you tried to put the pair of bullies out of your mind. This could still be your fresh start, surrounded by fragile parchment and vellum, leather spines, ancient oak tables, and the vague tingle of magic in the air.

There were wards in the ceilings to syphon off excess ambient magic in places like this, and as you let your eyes roam up and follow the conductive brass rods embedded in the ceiling, you nearly crashed into one of the long trestle tables that had been placed in a remote alcove, lit on one side by a huge, leaded, arched window and framed on the other three by bookshelves. As if fate had chosen you a place to settle down, you stared at the empty space for a moment before deciding that this would probably be your study spot for the rest of the year. It was right at the back of the library, and seemed out of the way enough that it wouldn’t be on the regular stamping ground of first years looking for the standard texts. It was also open enough that it probably wouldn’t be sought out for… other activities. The stacks, with their dark corners and endless shadows, seemed much more appropriate for that.

Yes. This would be perfect.

And you wouldn’t have to think about them here either.

Gods, even trying to get the thought of them out of your head prompted a flare of hot ire. Iltho and Drake had been inseparable at school. Class A bullies who just stood there and let everyone else spar and jockey for the dubious honour of being their latest minions and underlings, letting their wealth and, in Iltho’s case, ‘charisma’ carry them through. Half the school had been in love with them at one point, influence or not. And yes, even you had admired them from a distance. Rachel was right - they really were absolutely fucking gorgeous. Both of them. And it fucking sucked.

An hour later, a shadow passed in front of that beautiful window and you glanced up as someone halted beside your table. “That’s a familiar sight,” a deep voice chuckled.

Your stomach dropped and you felt your face fall with horror before you schooled it into something a little more acerbic than you’d ever managed in school. Funny how a few months’ internship abroad over the summer at one of the world’s most prestigious historical institutions could change everything. You hardened your eyes and noticed the way he watched you.

“Iltho,” you said flatly as you cricked your neck to look up at him. “You're blocking the light, but I can’t tell if it’s your wings or your ego that’s obliterating the sun. Would you care to move?”

Read the whole thing right now, as well as all the Mermay 2020 posts (five in total, including extra artwork), a surprise, nsfw ‘ghost lover’ story, all of Winter Solstice up to the current chapter, a new multi-chapter vampire story, the mlm werewolf story, plus everything that’s been posted already on Patreon!

[chrwrites]

Take Me As You Please - Chapter 1

When Marinette’s worse dream comes true, she does everything she can to let her feelings for Adrien go, and Luka only wants to be there for her – that’s what friends are for, right?

A lot of feelings can happen in one summer.

read on ao3

Luka loved summer. Paris was less chaotic since most people were away for the holidays, the usually crowded streets were empty and this allowed him to enjoy his city more than he already did. Everything was quieter but more colourful, the world seemed to flourish around him and he allowed himself to fully absorb that energy. Summer meant warm sunny days, and the way the breeze brushed his skin and ruffled his hair inspired new songs, now that school was over he finally had time to focus only on his music. Summer was a chance to recharge before going back to the ordinary, he could let go of his worries for a moment and take things slow, free his mind. Summer tasted like freedom and sweet juicy fruits, and Luka loved and cherished every moment of it. 

He sat on a couch on the deck of the Liberty, gently strumming his acoustic guitar while he waited for the rest of his bandmates to arrive at band practice. The Liberty welcomed his and Juleka's friends, they spent most of the time hanging out on the houseboat, some playing music, some writing, some drawing. They even managed to bring a table tennis table on board to everyone's delight. At the end of the day they would watch orange and red lights gleam on the Seine, the sun setting on the horizon painting the buildings in a warmer colour, and each sunset was so unique  Luka wanted to capture them through music, but he struggled to find the perfect melody for the incredible arrangement of yellow, pink, red and orange in the sky he was lucky to see almost everyday. Not being able to find the perfect tune for something was more frustrating than he’d admit, he usually got it right at the first try and then he would start composing from there, that was the difficult part. But this time it felt like something was missing. There was only one time when he found difficult to find the perfect tune for something, or rather, someone –

“Luka! The guys haven't arrived yet?" Marinette's voice interrupted his thoughts, he looked up at her direction and smiled. She just got off the gangplank and was walking up to him, she was wearing a white sundress with small cherries printed on it and her dark hair were styled into a side braid. Oh, she was beautiful. And while he admired her, she stumbled on a cable on the floor.

“Woah, careful there” he let out a small chuckle.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!”, she said a little too loudly as she straightened up, tightening the grip on the bag she was holding.  That was his Marinette. Well, not his in that sense¸ he wished she was, but her heart belonged to someone else.

She was the Marinette he learned to know so well during the last two years. The clumsy, sweet and joyful Marinette, the girl he fell in love with, and even though he knew that his feelings weren’t reciprocated, he was happy with being by her side as a friend, and he respected her enough not to push his feelings on her. Why should he, anyway? She was free to love whoever she wanted, even if this meant suffering and crying about it for hours in his arms. He hated seeing her like this, and he wished he could do more for her, and of course he could do more for her. He could be what she needed, he could treat her like she deserved, but it wasn’t him she wanted for that. The only thing he could do for her was being there for her, and that’s exactly what he did. They got close and hung out together, they learned to know each other, she allowed herself to be vulnerable around him and he was happy about that. He gave her the chance to be herself and nothing else, and she was happy with that. That’s the only thing that mattered.

“I brought macarons for everyone” she said, sitting next to him and placing the bag she was holding on the wooden deck “Where are they?”

“Oh, Jules and Rose went to get ice cream, and Ivan and Mylène are arriving at 4:30” he shrugged. They sat in silence as he plucked the strings of his guitar, the same melody he was playing before she arrived filling the air. She was looking at her sundress, gently pulling at its creases to straighten them a little.

“That’s a new one” she commented, a tiny smile forming on her face “I like it”

“It’s not perfect yet” he noted, and set the guitar aside, looking at her. She didn’t look her usual joyful self, her face was serious and her ocean eyes were dull. It seemed like something was torturing her mind.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

Marinette looked away and took a deep breath, she didn’t know where to start, she burdened him with so many of her problems and didn’t want to put more weight on his shoulders. Especially since this time she would’ve reminded him of when she asked him to go on a double date with Adrien and Kagami, the first time she chose Adrien over him, and he let her. Luka accepted it and he didn’t even start to behave differently around her. Marinette felt like she didn’t deserve to be treated so gently, but he did it anyway. He never made her feel wrong for her own feelings, even if he was hurt by them. Luka deserved much better than her crying on his shoulder for her unrequited crush while he felt the same way about her, but time has passed since he confessed his feelings to her, and after that he never made another move. Besides, didn’t he start seeing someone recently? What was his name again? Elliott, right? He had moved on. Marinette met him at band practice once, he was nice and pretty and definitely Luka’s type. Too bad they broke up right before school ended. Marinette was the first person to know, “We weren’t invested enough” was all he said, and she didn’t dare to ask him more about it, she just told him that she was sorry and he stayed at hers, they watched a movie and ordered pizza, just like friends do after a break up. Yes, he must be over her, she could tell him without being afraid to hurt him, it’s not like she has never talked to him about Adrien, anyway.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it” he said, catching her attention.

“Well, it’s just that – she closed her eyes, wincing at the thought of saying it out loud – Adrien and Kagami are dating”. It was awfully real now.

Luka stayed silent for a while, trying to find the right words to say, but he only wanted to hold her and comfort her.

“He texted me today” she continued “he told me she had asked him out. They went on a picnic at the park and when he walked her home they kissed. And he’s happy he’s finally found someone that fully understands him. – Luka put his hand on her shoulder – I lied. I told him I was happy for them too. They’re my friends after all, I should be happy for them, but...”

She finally turned to Luka, who was looking at her with so much care and understanding she felt like collapsing.

“I feel so stupid, I’ve spent the last two years trying to create the perfect moment for me to confess my feelings for him and it was useless. I kept making up excuses for my hesitation. I was never brave enough to tell him how I really felt. I kept stuttering and I never took a chance to express myself and I even complained about him considering me just a friend? I didn’t do anything to make him truly understand how I felt! Hell, I’m the one who suggested him to get closer to her in the first place! If I weren’t so insecure, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I des–

“Enough with the negative self-talk” Luka snapped, surprising himself and Marinette for the harsh tone that came out of his mouth. He sighed, looking at her in the eyes and getting closer to her. If it weren’t for the helpless and sad look on Marinette’s face he would've found this whole situation pretty ironic. Actually, he could see the irony in the situation. He was comforting the girl he was in love with because her crush unknowingly shattered her heart. The universe must’ve been laughing at him.

“Sorry” he whispered “I hate it when you put yourself down, you should be kinder to yourself”.

Marinette looked down and stayed silent. If she opened his mouth Luka would’ve scolded her again for being too hard on herself.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Luka asked, his voice softer than ever. Marinette nodded helplessly and looked at him.

“I think that everyone could see that you were head over heels for him, and he was completely oblivious because he was fine with having you as a friend, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I think that even if you have never been direct with your feelings, he could've understood how you felt. You behaved differently around him and he never noticed nor questioned it”. Marinette gazed at him, nodding hesitantly “Y-You’re right, maybe I should just try to let this go. I mean, when I talk to him as a friend I don’t get flustered that easily, it’s easier for me to be with him, I’m not afraid that something might go wrong. I care about him, but I have to face the fact that Kagami is the perfect match for him. They have a similar background and their parents work together. She’s smart and determined and everything I’m not, I understand why he’s fallen for her. I’m just –

“Marinette” Luka interrupted her with a glare before she could say anything more and made her face him. His eyes were fixed into hers and he cupped her face in his hands. Their faces were way too close and Luka could feel his heart beat faster for a moment. Concentrate, Luka. You're supposed to be there for her.

“You’re the most extraordinary girl, Marinette”. Clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the day we first met. He wished he could say it again, just to remind her how much she meant to him. “Whoever doesn’t see it is an idiot and you don’t deserve to feel bad about yourself because of them. I understand that now you feel hopeless, and you have every right to feel everything you’re feeling, but I don’t want you to feel like you deserve nothing. You deserve to feel loved and wanted, and you too deserve someone who cares about you enough to understand how you’re feeling even when you don’t say it and to be there for you.” Someone like me.

“Thank you, Luka. I – Marinette’s breath hitched, she was trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek and he wished he could take away all of her pain, he wished he could help her heal but the only thing he could do was hug her and try to ease her pain. Marinette held on his t-shirt and let out a small sigh, which turned into a soft sob and in the end she was crying on his shoulder, shaking and sobbing harder.

She let herself fall this time, and he was there to catch her, again.

One of his hands was lightly rubbing her back to comfort her, she let out all the sadness and stress she kept holding back, and when she calmed down, she whispered a faint thank you as he kept holding her close. He didn’t know how long they stayed like in that position; time seemed to have stopped for Luka.

It wasn’t until they heard Juleka and Rose giggle as they walked on the boat hand in hand that he reluctantly let Marinette go. Juleka gave him a knowing look “Aw, isn’t Luka a great cuddler” she commented while Rose by her side squealed in happiness. Marinette straightened up on the couch and looked at him. Her eyes were slightly puffy from all that crying but they had a bit of her usual brightness back and her cheeks had turned into an adorable shade of pink. He gave her a reassuring smile, he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, and glared at his sister while he put his arms behind his head, relaxing and changing the subject.

“Have you heard from Ivan?” he asked “He and Mylène should be here by now and I really wanna start playing”. Juleka looked at her phone, “He’s looking for a place to park his scooter, they’ll be here soon” and just as she said it, the drummer and his girlfriend got on board.

“Ah, finally!” Luka waved at the couple as they were welcomed by the rest of the band, and before going to get his electric guitar he turned to Marinette “We don’t usually take requests, but do you wanna hear us play something in particular?” Just for you?

Juleka shook her head but he ignored her and looked at the rest of the band. “We said we would've practiced new songs to cover, why not let Marinette choose for us?” he continued, that was the perfect excuse.

Marinette thought about it for a moment and then a sly grin appeared on her face “I want Taylor Swift” she announced.

“That’s why we don’t take requests” Ivan looked at her amused, and Luka couldn’t help but feign shock. “Marinette, we are rockers, what makes you think we would ever play crappy pop? I feel insulted” he put a hand on his heart in a dramatic pose and she let out a laugh “I’m sorry, I just thought you could handle a bit of change”.

“Of course we can, don’t’ underestimate us”

“I would never”

“So Taylor Swift it is, then” he took is phone from his pocket to look for the tabs he needed. He wasn’t going to play Marinette songs about high heels and sneakers or teardrops on guitars, no sad songs about heartbreak and comparing yourself to others. He tried to ignore the fact that he could relate to You Belong With Me pretty well. Luka considered singing about heartbreaks being national anthems but opted against it, he wanted something cheerful and carefree, not something that could make Marinette think about what pained her in any way. When he found the perfect song, he made the rest of the band look at the tabs for their instruments and they discussed the changes they would make for them to own the song and it not being just a casual cover, who knows, if it went well they could’ve even considered to play it live.

They got to the stage, and Ivan started banging on his drumkit. Juleka and Luka followed soon after, the sound of the bass and the guitar matching perfectly the rhythm given by the drums, every note came together to form the happy and upbeat tone of the original song, but with a heavier, guitar-driven sound.

“I stay out too late, got nothin' in my brain that's what people say” Rose’s deep voice joined them and Marinette smiled as she mouthed the lyrics back at the band, she looked like she was having fun too. Luka smiled to himself and then followed Rose’s singing “It's like I got this music in my mind, sayin' it's gonna be alright” and they continued playing the happy beat they created for the song. It was a fun song to play and they had been able to adapt it to their genre pretty easily. Rose let Luka take over the bridge of the song when he met Marinette’s eyes while she was pointing at him, “and to the fella over there with the hella good hair won't you come on over, baby?”  he sang as he felt an unfamiliar warmth creeping up his face “We can shake, shake, shake” he continued, trying to keep his voice steady as he sung. She was just having fun with them and their eyes met. He couldn’t read into it something more, he really couldn’t. On the other hand, he felt a new melody forming in his heart and he let it flow through is fingers, the new joyful tune filled the song and he continued playing until their performance was over. The melody ended with the two-people audience applauding and cheering on them.

“I like what you did there” Ivan looked at him amazed and Luka ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the electric feeling that was running through his veins. Rose was delighted and clapped her hands as well “That was fun!”, Juleka smiled fondly at her enthusiasm. 

“It was amazing!” Marinette roared happily, Luka felt that her heart was lighter than before and he smiled to himself, glad to have accomplished his main goal.

“Thank you” was all he could say in the microphone, even if he felt the same heat from before forming on his face.

He turned to the rest of the band and they started to discuss what to play next. They had a gig in the upcoming week and it was the first time they could play a whole hour-long set, but they had yet to decide the setlist so there was still some work to do if they wanted it to be perfect.

The group went back to practicing and Marinette took out her sketchbook to start drawing on a blank page, she felt better than the emotional mess she was in Luka’s arms but she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. She knew a heartache couldn’t be cured so easily, but a happy song and warm hugs had really helped.

Marinette had just finished sketching the croquis of her design when her phone vibrated, she decided not to check any message, she really didn’t want to think again about something that could crush her, it was better for her to keep it in the back of her mind. She continued drawing while she let the music her friends played comfort her “Candy-coat your problems if they’re bitter and they’re awful I won’t let this be a sad song or make this hard to swallow” they sang. Mylène complemented the dress she was creating, and she felt a tiny bit of satisfaction spark in her. It wasn’t until she heard her phone vibrate as someone called that Marinette reluctantly put her sketchbook aside and took it out. Alya’s name lit up the screen but she didn’t really feel like answering. Besides, Kitty Section were practising, and she wouldn’t have heard her through the phone. She declined the call and then decided to check the notifications she got; they were all text messages from Alya.

Marinette, how are you?

I just spoke to Nino and I really need to talk to you

It’s important

Marinette?

Please answer me

Marinette sighed, her heart started to feel heavy again and even though she was glad to see that her friend cared about her, she wasn’t ready to have that conversation again.

I can’t talk right now, but I know what you want to talk about

Adrien told me

I’m fine, thanks for checking in

I’m so sorry Mari, can I come over later?

I’m here for you

Thank you Alya, it really means a lot to me

I’d rather to see you tomorrow

Is that okay for you?

The truth was that all she wanted to do as soon as she got home was cry her heart out until she fell asleep hugging the pillow.

Yeah sure, take your time

You know where to find me!

Marinette closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to recollect herself. She put away her phone and went back to working on her sketch. She added a few details to the design before the band decided it was time to take a break. Mylène got up and sat on Ivan’s lap, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. Marinette felt something sting in her heart and tried to ignore it. She wished she had a love so sweet too, but all her hopes and dreams about love were shattered that same day.

Juleka and Rose sat on two deckchairs next to each other while Luka went below deck to get something to drink for everyone. He came upstairs with a jug of fresh lemonade and glasses, set them on the small coffee table in front of where Marinette was, and went to sit next to her. She reached for the bag and placed the macaron box she brought at the centre of the table. They all took a sweet, and Marinette sipped her drink quietly as he listened to her friends talking about the upcoming gig.

“Did you make any new design?” Luka turned to her and she put her glass on the coffee table.

“Yeah, but I’m not fully satisfied with the idea honestly” she sighed

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, can I see it?” Marinette nodded and flickered through the pages of her sketchbook, showing Luka the design she was working on. He got closer to her to have a better look at it.

“It’s really good, Mari!” Luka admired the unfinished sketch and then looked up at her “It’s gonna be even better when you finish it!”.

Marinette blushed at his comment, Luka had always been supportive of her and always motivated her to do better, he also helped her to find the motivation she needed when she was stuck in a project and couldn’t find any inspiration. “Thank you, Luka. If it wasn’t for you I would’ve probably thrown away half of the designs in this sketchbook”.

He closed the sketchbook handing it to her with a soft expression “You should give yourself a little more credit, Mari”. She took the book and put it on her lap, studying the decorations she drew on the cover. A small ladybug and an intricate flower design. Maybe he was right, he was looking at her with so much admiration she felt her cheeks heat up. Luka tried to contain a smile as he noticed her blush, and put a hand on her shoulder. He really hated the fact that she thought so little of herself, if she could see herself through his eyes, she would’ve completely changed her mind. This wasn’t because Luka’s vision of her was rose-coloured, she was actually really talented, and kind, and smart, and caring… He fell for her for so many reasons. He wrote songs about her for so many reasons.

“What do you think, Lukey?” Juleka’s voice made him get out of his thoughts. Everyone was staring at him.

“Uh- sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?” his sister rolled her eyes, her expression screaming that he was embarrassing, and Rose, who was a hopeless romantic and never lost a chance to remind Luka how he and Marinette would be the perfect couple, let out a small laugh.

“I was saying that we should just perform our original songs at the concert” she said, exasperated.

He thought about if for a moment, moving the hand that was on Marinette’s shoulder under his chin.

“You’re forgetting that not everyone will know us or our songs, a cover could lift up the mood. We just have to find the right song” ha answered. “I like Pâquerette. We could do Shake It Off, too. It’s funnier to play, but we’d have to practice it a little more”.

Ivan agreed but suggested to cover Ain’t It Fun. “Oh, I love that one! It’s closer to our genre, too!” Rose added.

“Yeah, we can do that” Juleka said.

“So we’re playing Ain’t It Fun, perfect” Luka concluded.

When the rest of the band got up to go back to their instruments, Luka turned to Marinette “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to ask you something”.

“Yeah?” the girl said a little too loudly, a whole range of possible negative outcomes forming in her mind. Did she do anything wrong? Please, don’t make today worse than it already is.

“How do you feel about taking commissions from someone who’s not us?”

Marinette let out a sigh of relief, she wasn’t expecting a simple question like this. “I think I can handle that” she smiled at him.

“Great! Because I might’ve praised your skills to my friend” Luka could see her slightly blush again, he was growing really fond of it “and she asked me if you would be willing to help her band with designing. They need a complete rebrand actually since – well, she’ll explain that to you, we’re playing with her band next week, and if you come you can talk to her in person, otherwise I can give you her Instagram username so you can contact her when you feel like it”.

Marinette was surprised at his thoughtfulness, considering her needs and boundaries before she even stated them. He has always been like this, gentle and respectful, but people like him were so rare to find that she found it difficult to believe he was real.

“Yeah, I’ll do it!” she beamed, excited to start a new project and concentrate on something else, maybe that would’ve helped with the whole not-thinking-about-it thing. The only thought she couldn’t control in that moment creeped from the back of her mind. What if they don’t like my work? What if I don’t understand them?

Luka seemed to have read her mind when he put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly “Marinette, I already showed her your site and she loved your work. And when I told her you designed Jagged Stone's album cover she lost it, it’s her favourite album, you know?” he giggled at the memory of his best friend freaking out about the fact that his crush worked for THE JAGGED STONE, and he didn’t consider telling her?!?!

“You’re gonna do an amazing job as always, and if you have any trouble working with her you can talk to me”.

Marinette didn’t seem so sure about it, but nodded at him slowly, grateful for his support. He squeezed her shoulder delicately and gave her a wink before going back to the stage.

Marinette relaxed on the couch and closed her eyes, the breeze tickled her skin as the music her friends were playing soothed her mind. She wanted to hold on that feeling for as long as she could, she could deal with the bad stuff later. Besides, she dealt with worse, didn’t she? What was heartbreak compared to saving Paris from evil forces, keeping her superhero identity a secret or being the Guardian of the Miraculous? It was nothing really, nothing.

If she kept repeating it she would’ve believed it eventually.

 The air got colder as the sun set, and Luka was playing the same melody he was playing when Marinette arrived. The golden light shined on him as he looked so lost in the sweet tune. He had his eyes closed, like the rest of the world around him didn’t exist. It was just him, his guitar, and whatever inspired him. He continued strumming as the rest of Kitty Section put away their instruments and Marinette gathered her art supplies and placed them in her bag. It was only when it was time for everyone to leave that Luka put away his guitar and went to say goodbye to Ivan and Mylène “See you tomorrow!” he waved.

Rose was staying for dinner, and Luka asked Marinette if she wanted to stay too, to which she kindly refused “My parents must be waiting for me already”.

“Want me to walk you home, then?” Luka suggested.

“No, thanks” she shook her head, her heart got heavier as the sun vanished in the horizon.

“Are you sure?” he could see a hint of dismal behind her eyes and he didn’t want to let her go like this. He got closer to her and whispered something only she could hear “You don’t have to do this alone, you know”, the pain in her eyes was starting to hurt him too, Luka needed to take it away from her. He hugged her tight, she stiffened at the sudden gesture, but she relaxed into his arms hugging him back. He distanced himself from her and looked at her in the eyes, he couldn’t bear not seeing the usual brightness that inspired so many songs, he needed to do something to help her heal.

And he kissed her. He kissed her with all the love and sweetness he had reserved just for her. It was soft, healing and regenerating, the kind of kiss that would’ve soothed even the worst wounds. When she pulled away and gave him a small smile he was tempted to give in to her lips again, just to make sure she was alright…

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry” and with that, he realized that he was imagining this again, what an idiot. Be glad you respect her too much not to do this. Wouldn’t take advantage of her being vulnerable, would you? Idiot. Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings, looked at the girl who was still wrapped in his arms and let her go reluctantly.

Luka cleared his throat before speaking “Text me when you get home, okay?”. Marinette nodded, and with that she was gone, he watched her walk away.

“You’re embarrassing” was all Luka heard from Juleka.

“No, he’s just in love…” Rose chirped and let out a small laugh, tugging her girlfriend’s hand and leading her below deck.

Luka didn’t eat much; he was too busy thinking about Marinette and how he really needed to do something to comfort her, but what? He would’ve never crossed her boundaries, not without her permission. He was fine with having her close as a friend, after all. It was safer, this way he couldn’t risk losing her. But at the same time he knew he could do better for her as something else… He left his sister and her girlfriend at the dining table and headed to his room, took his notepad and started scribbling new rhymes that matched the melody forming inside his head.

“Why do you have to make everything sound so dark?” Rose commented when he asked her opinion on the new lyrics he’d written. She was pointing at a verse that recited I feel dead and a half but you’re making me laugh.

“I like it” was Juleka’s only defence for him “you aren’t planning on serenading Marinette, are you?”

“What?! No, it’s just… I had to let this off my chest, that’s all” did Luka really want to tell her sister that he was going to send the song to her as soon as it was done? No, he would’ve kept the lyrics to himself anyway so it wasn’t that big of a deal. He cared more about the melody, that was meant to comfort her.

Rose helped him fix some parts of the lyrics and sent him back to his room so he could work on the melody.

Chapter 2

[ninbayphua-moyan]

An Instant’s Beauty: A Moment’s Eternity

I cannot sleep deep in the night; I rise and sit to play my lute. Thin curtains mirror the moon bright; Clear breezes tug my lapels mute. A lonely swan shrieks over the plain; Hovering birds cry in north wood. What do I see pacing in vain? My heart is grieved in solitude. [1] 

Warm morning sunlight streamed in through the lightwell, painting the dimly lit room in a dreamy pastel gold, quite like that of a faded photograph. The balmy Penang air was steeped in the fresh, earthy petrichor of a recent shower, blanketed with a sense of Saturday languidness. A gentle breeze, pleasantly cool against my skin fleeted through the wide-open windows, carrying with it the alluringly sweet scent of frangipanis.

          I flipped the century-old poetry book, its yellowed leaves a beautiful contrast against the teal-blue covers. White silk cords stitched together the pages in a butterfly binding whilst faded black ink encased in vermillion frames marked each leaf, punctuated only occasionally by an ink wash painting of landscapes or plants and animals. Reflexion. I placed the book back down on the table and picked up the brush. Dipping the tip in freshly grounded black ink, I started copying the text.

          I remember a sense of meditative calm seeping into the room against the backdrop of gently rustling palm leaves and running water. The way my hands traced the familiar characters with controlled ease and precision. The movements of the brush long since deeply ingrained into muscle memory from years of practice. Stroke after flowing stroke danced gracefully across the beige xuan paper, each carefully crafted character a painting of woven words. It strikes me now, as I pen my memory onto paper in Bute Park, how similar writing is to calligraphy. Even though it bears a certain form, each writer brings with them their own flair as they string together the words and weave them into a tapestry of thoughts.

          A ripple in the tranquil air.

          The soft fluttering of paper-thin wings. A shimmer of blue at the corner of my eye.

          Propping my brush against the holder, I looked up to see a beautiful blue butterfly flitting in through the window bars. It hovered by the inkstone momentarily before finally coming to a rest on the wooden brush rack next to it, the erratic beating of its wings slowing to a stop. Brilliant hues of cobalt and azure scales glistened as it sat there peacefully basking in the warm tropical sun. Watching the butterfly, I couldn’t help but wonder if the old folklore A-Poh[2] told me was true – that butterflies were the souls of deceased ancestors visiting the living. Wouldn’t that be nice if it was real. Then I’d be able to tell A-Gong[3] all about getting into university; about how part of me was glad that I got accepted but also about how another part of me didn’t want to go since I’d be leaving home for three years straight. What if everything changed whilst I was away? The places I’ve known since childhood…the familiar faces I’ve grown up with…If only the butterfly really was A-Gong. He’d be able to give me some advice.

          A tantalising aroma of freshly steamed glutinous rice dumplings wafted through the air, successfully drawing me out of my musings just as the clock struck noon.

          “Jia-bui-lo!” [4]

          Scurrying feet on creaking floorboards could be heard all over the house as my siblings and parents made a beeline for the dining hall. I looked away from the butterfly and smiled at A-Poh who was standing in the kitchen doorway. She beckoned me over with a toothless grin, her eyes crinkling into two half-moons as she motioned at the large bowl full of steaming glutinous rice dumplings in her hand. Getting up from the Luohan bed[5] where I sat cross-legged, I joined them at the dining table where Di-Di[6] and Mei-Mei[7] were already sat with their chopsticks at the ready, excited grins plastered across their hungry, eager faces.

          I take a seat next to A-Poh, and, picking up my chopsticks, took a bite out of the dumpling in my bowl, its familiar flavours instantly crashing over my taste buds like waves washing up against its shores. A groan escaped my lips as I relished each mouth-watering bite. The savoury note of succulent pork belly marinated in soy sauce and five spice; umami-rich dried shitake mushrooms with its juicy and chewy quality; firm-textured salted duck egg yolk that gives the dumpling a briny aroma whilst its bright orange-red hue creates a pleasant splash of colour against its otherwise brown and black counterparts; the refreshing sweetness of the water chestnuts, a crunchy nuttiness amidst the softness; soft, sticky golden brown glutinous rice encompassing it all, delectably infused with the subtle fragrance of its bamboo leaf wrappings and rich flavours of its fillings from the hours of steaming…ah…these tenderly wrapped packages of love though plain in appearance were worth more to me than gold.

          I was still half way through my first dumpling when another newly unwrapped one plopped into my bowl. Quickly swallowing my food, I tried protesting only to be shushed with another mouthful of rice being forced into my open mouth and a fond pat on the cheek. I shook my head in resignation whilst my siblings sent me cheeky looks before sneakily scooting closer to our parents. There was no stopping A-Poh now that she was on the rampage and those little troublemakers were smart enough to know to stay out of arms reach of her stuffing chopsticks. The rascals. Di-Di even has the audacity to stick his tongue out at me which was obviously returned with an eye roll.

          Little did I know then that these habitual banter, familiar aromas, and accustomed faces would be what I would miss most after leaving. Everything was as it should be; and everyone was where they belonged. In that instance, surrounded by dust particles glimmering in the golden tropical sunlight, it was as if a spell had been cast that would make today go on eternally. For a moment, I let myself believe in the enchantment; that tomorrow will never come and the flight ticket to London was nothing but a forgotten fantasy…

          Bzzz.

          Bzz. Bzzzzzz.

          Bzzz.

          I instinctively reach for my phone to turn off the alarm that pierces the heavy veils of sleep. However, when I open my eyes, I’m met with an unfamiliar white ceiling instead of the usual worn wooden beams. For a moment, I lie there, disorientated before realization sinks in. Cardiff. I am in my flat in Cardiff and the weight I felt on my stomach wasn’t Hua-Hua[8] but rather, my laptop which was still perched on its spot from yesterday’s all-nighter. I must’ve dozed off at some point.

          Slowly sitting up, I gaze around the silent room. Its bleak white walls; books and worksheets sprawled messily across the covers; steely early morning sunlight filtering through the narrow window into the dingy room; folders organized in a nice pile on the desk...My wandering gaze comes to a grinding stop when it lands on the calendar next to the neat stack of folders.

          February 7th.

          I sigh. Looks like I’ll be celebrating both my birthday and Chinese New Year alone this year…

          The frigid February air is still bitterly cold despite being swaddled from head to toe in layers upon layers of coats and scarves. Miserably, I trudge onwards along the banks of the River Taff. Razor sharp winds slice at my cheeks leaving behind searing scars. As the last remaining trickle of warmth leave my body, my mind shuts down and I plod along the cobblestone streets mechanically, limbs and face numb from the biting cold.

          A lukewarm breeze flutters by, stirring my slumbering senses. Bit by bit, warmth seeps back into my frozen limbs and my foggy mind clears as if waking up from a trance. Glancing around, I spot the words Marchnad Caerdydd [9] and realise I’ve arrived at the market. I shake off the remaining frost induced spell and venture into the quiet maze of stalls, trolley in hand.

          The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries wafts through the crisp air, tinged with a breath of floral sweetness. A range of raw meat laid out in clear glass cases bathed in neon pink lights line the murky grey brick walls. Whiffs of coffee beans tickle my nose whenever a dull-eyed person shuffles soullessly pass me in the near vacant market. Stall owners sit spiritlessly at their stalls staring lazily into space. It was almost like walking into a ghost town.

          A splash of colour.

          Turning around, I see a stall filled to the brim with a rainbow array of fruits and vegetables. A refreshing sight in the seemingly deserted marketplace. The sudden craving for something sweet results in me buying a bag of strawberries before wandering on.

          As I nibble away happily on the strawberries browsing through the stalls up in the gallery, I was suddenly struck by a sense of déjà vu. Bit by bit, the scene before me starts to change. The glaring daylight fades away into the tranquil darkness of night and the dusty marketplace roof is now a sky full of twinkling stars. A magnificent full moon shines softly against the vast velvety void, casting a gentle glow on everything below. Towering, lush palm trees replace murky grey brick walls and the cobblestone floor is transformed into a well-travelled dirt road. A lively buzz fills the now soothingly warm tropical air as a familiar sight begins to emerge in the distance. For there, at the very end of the road, stood Penang’s bustling night market, glowing and glittering like a chest of magical gems in the blanket of darkness.

          Brightly lit stalls sheltered by rainbow umbrellas formed a colourful labyrinth, drawing people young and old towards those warm lights like moths to a flame. The sound of street vendors hollering out their wares permeated the air, mingling with the cheerful haggling. Weaving in and out of the throng, I hurried over to the food stalls section. Bellowing clouds of smoke imbued with the irresistible aroma of Asian street food rose into the night air and my mouth began to salivate.

          As memories melt into ink and reconstruct themselves as words on the page, I am suddenly reminded of Lauren Elkin’s essay on being a flaneur.[10] Wandering through the streets of a city, uncovering its secrets and crafting it into a tale for the shelves. Having read Virginia Woolf’s Street Hunting, it’s fascinating to see not only the difference between Penang and London but also her contrasting writing style.[11]

          A familiar smell wafted down the street. I snapped out of my trance and made a beeline towards a stall tucked away in the corner. An old couple stood amongst bamboo steamer baskets selling staple dim-sum[12] delicacies. Noticing my arrival, the old woman hurried up to me and enveloped me into a bone-shattering hug.

          “Nai-Nai![13] Can’t – breathe –”

          She lets go of me with a laugh, grabbed my hand and quickly led me inside. As she busied herself fawning over me, Ye-Ye[14] quietly filled up a bowl and placed it in front of me with a kindly smile. I looked into the bowl to find it full of crystal shrimp dumplings[15], my favourite dim-sum dish.

          I picked up a piece of dumpling with my chopsticks and take a tentative bite, my mouth immediately exploding with flavour. The saltiness of grounded shrimp marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil contrasting exquisitely against the unique juicy sweetness of fresh prawn; a thin yet sturdy glass-like wrapper encapsulates it all with delicate pleats, creating a tasteful balance between the plainness of the dough and the richness of its fillings. Ah…heaven in a bite-size bundle.

          Ye-Ye and Nai-Nai smiled fondly as they watched me wolf down the shrimp dumplings with the same unrestrained gusto I’ve had for the past nineteen years. We reminisced about the past, laughing at funny memories whilst savouring the simple dim-sum dishes, and I couldn’t help but noticed how time had flown. Just yesterday I was barely tall enough to reach their knees; today, I stood half a head taller.

          “How long?”

          “Three years.”

          Minutes pass, neither of us uttered a word. Then, Ye-Ye gently ruffled my hair, the same way he’s been doing since I was two, only this time, the smile on his face seemed tinged with a hint of melancholy.

          “Silly child.”

          My nose soured at the affectionate nickname and I quickly tilted my head back to stop tears from falling. The stars seemed strangely lonely that night.

          “Still such a cry-baby.”

          “Am not!”

          Hastily blinking away the tears, I got up and enveloped Nai-Nai in a tight hug.

          “Take care.”

          I nodded, not trusting my voice. After a few pats, we broke apart and I turned to head home.

          “We’ll save some shrimp dumplings for when you come home!”

          I dared not look back so I raised my hand and waved farewell instead. Until next time.

          Strolling down the five-foot way, I paused in front of a pair of ventilated timber doors. Mythical creatures of Chinese folklore embellished each panel. The dragon floating reverently amongst wispy clouds, each delicately carved scale shimmering with contained power. Opposite it, perched nobly on golden branches, was its gentler feathered counterpart – the phoenix, its wings spread wide, ready to take flight. Under the moonshine, it was as if those gilded bodies were suddenly brought to life. Their once dull sheen now aglow in brilliant shades of scarlet, orange and gold, almost as if they would burst into flames at any moment, just like in the myths of old, and be reborn from the ashes.

          As I gazed at the exquisite carvings, entranced, an old memory resurfaces. Same door, same carvings, but a very different time. I was a lot shorter for one, and I wasn’t alone. The large calloused hand that held mine was wrinkled and dry like the pages of an old book. Where a finger was supposed to be was stump, the only remains of a work accident in his youth.

          I tugged at the hand and A-Gong glanced down, a gentle smile on his weather-beaten face. Seeing the question in my doe-like eyes, he laughed. “These?” he asked as he lifted me up with one arm whilst running his other hand over the carvings which glittered under the setting sun. “These are spirit guardians sent by the Jade Emperor to watch over our household.”

          “Howshowld?”

          “Family,” he chuckled and tweaked my nose. I giggled, playfully reaching out my stubby fingers to grab his beard. Still laughing, he pushed open the heavy, half-a-century-old doors and we entered the house.

          Standing in the living room, the sounds of mirth slowly faded into silence and evening sunlight was replaced with the darkness of night. Without bothering to turn on the light, I walked over to the Luohan-bed and struck a match, lighting the wooden lantern. A pool of golden light was casted around the table where a flight ticket to London sat, my passport placed neatly beside it.

          I sighed.

          Sinking down into the cushions, I glanced at the clock. Five hours. Then it’s goodbye for a very, very long time. I gazed absentmindedly around the familiar room as my mind takes a trip down memory lane: mornings sprawled across the brightly coloured majolica tile floor trying to trace its intricate patterns; Evenings spent watching A-Poh wielding her embroidery needle with decades of practiced ease; A-Gong playing the erhu[16] on peaceful nights…ah yes, the erhu. Closing my eyes, I could almost hear it. The bamboo bow strung with horsetail hair traversing between two silk strings as A-Gong’s fingers dance deftly along its slender neck producing a vast array of tunes: one moment tender and sombre, the next sonorous and joyful.

          “Mmmreeoow?”

          I opened my eyes and found myself gazing into the forest-green orbs of a young calico sat patiently on my lap. Snuffing out the lantern, I laid down and wrapped my arms around Hua-Hua as she snuggled against my chest.

          An intoxicating sweetness tickled my nose.

          I glanced over at the potted plants to find the tan-huas[17] blossoming. Head propped against the pillow; I watched as the tightly rolled petals bloom in slow motion. Its fiery red tendrils unfurling elegantly to reveal a profusion of feathery white petals, much like a swan ruffling its wings, about to take flight. In the darkness of night, its snowy petals seemed to glow from within, as if made of moonbeams. With moonlight streaming in from the lightwell above, even the floating dust particles were transformed into shimmering stardust dancing in the quiet night air.

          Yet, as enchanting as it was, I couldn’t help but remember that it would all come to an end very soon. By dawn, before the sun’s first kiss, its lustrous petals would be shrivelled up and a withered carmine carcass would be all that remains of its snowy beauty from the night before; its lingering exotic fragrance a ghost of its twilight arrival. There’s an old saying A-Gong used to describe the tan-huas blooming: an instant of beauty but a moment of eternity. Even though beautiful things don’t last forever, they live on eternally, etched into our deepest memories. Just like the tan-huas, my time left on this quaint little island was coming to an end. By dawn tomorrow, I too would be gone; and though I’d be leaving this cozy old house I called home, I’d take with me its memories, just as the scent and beauty of the tan-hua lingers on forever in the memory of all who witnessed it.

          Listening to the rustling palm leaves and soothing gurgle of running water, tension oozed out of my body as my muscles relaxed. The tranquillity of night imbued with the intoxicating sweetness of tan-huas calmed my racing thoughts and my eyelids started to droop. Just before being lulled to sleep by Hua-Hua’s soft purring, I caught sight of a glimmer of azure amongst the radiant white blooms. The fluttering of delicate wings; quiet footsteps; something warm being tucked around me; and the familiar scent of incense from eleven years ago accompanied me as I drifted off to sleep.

NOTES:

[1] Ji Ruan, ‘Reflexions’ in 300 Gems of Classical Chinese Poetry, trans. by Yuanchong Xu (China: Peking University Press) pp. 88-89

[2] ‘A-Poh’ means ‘grandmother’ in Hainanese

[3] ‘A-Gong’ means ‘grandfather’ in Hainanese

[4] ‘Jia bui lo!’ means ‘time to eat’ in Hainanese (one of the Chinese dialects).

[5] ‘Luohan bed’ is a traditional Chinese furniture equivalent to the modern sofa-bed. It is made of wood, often containing a low wooden tea table set in the center.

[6] ‘Di-Di’ means ‘younger brother’ in Chinese 

[7] ‘Mei-Mei’ means ‘younger sister’ in Chinese 

[8] ‘Hua-Hua’ means ‘flower’ or ‘patterned’ in Mandarin which is a reference to the calico cat’s tri-coloured coat as well as the fact that calicos are called ‘Yin-Hua-Bu-Mao’. The naming is also a pun and an allusion the association it has with the memories her grandfather and his favourite flowers – the tan-huas.

[9] ‘Marchnad Caerdydd’ means ‘Cardiff Market’ in Welsh.

[10] Lauren Elkin, ‘A tribute to female flaneurs: the women who reclaimed our city streets’, in Flaneuse: Woman Walk the City, (London: Chatto & Windus, 2016)

[11] Virginia Woolf, 'Street Haunting', in Selected Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 177 - 187

[12] ‘Dim-sum’ is a style of Chinese cuisine that’s prepared in small bite-sized portions served in small steamer baskets or on a small plate. It is also a metaphor in this story for a Chinese saying: 麻雀虽小，五脏俱全 meaning ‘small as it is, the sparrow has all the vital organs’. Just like dim-sum, the narrator’s happiness comes from a seemingly insignificant object such as a bowl of shrimp dumplings.

[13] ‘Nai-Nai’ means ‘paternal grandmother’ but can also be used as a general reference to or a friendlier and more affectionate way of addressing an old woman which is often used to show the closeness of the relationship.

[14] ‘Ye-Ye’ means ‘paternal grandfather but can also be used as a general reference to or a friendlier and more affectionate way of addressing an old man which is often used to show the closeness of the relationship.

[15] ‘Crystal shrimp dumplings’ also known as ‘Har-gao’ are a staple dim-sum dish made of prawn semi-translucent wraps kneaded from flour. In Chinese culture, dumplings are normally associated with togetherness and reunions since the wrapping of dumplings is a group activity that is usually done with family which helps emphasizes on the sense of belonging within the narrative.

[16] ‘Erhu’ is a traditional Chinese two-stringed fiddle.

[17] ‘Tan-hua’ also known as Epiphyllum Oxypetalum is a species of cactus found in South America and Southeast Asia that blooms rarely and only at night. In the Chinese culture’s language of flowers, the tan-hua means ‘an instant of beauty, a moment of eternity’, meaning beautiful things don’t last forever but they last forever in our memories.

Author's Notes:

Back with Part 3 of the short story slash prose pieces from uni series (this part was also written in second year lol) The story is back to the present, picking up a year after that rocky start in Part 1 and A-Yun is now in her second year of uni reminiscing about the time leading up to her departure for the UK. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 3~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

[artificialqueens]

Spirit, Part 2/2 - (Gigi x Crystal / Gigi x Nicky) - Opalescentcheetah

A/N: I’m finally back with more magical shenanigans! I’m so sorry this has taken me so long, but I hope the chapter is worth the wait! Thank you again for all the love on Part 1, it really means a lot to me and I’m so glad you all enjoyed it <3 Feel free to drop by my blog, @opalescent-cheetah, to say hi - I love hearing from everyone!

Thank you so much to DenDenMonMon and Crazy4Kameron for beta-ing!

Summary: It’s three years later, and Gigi is going to college to chase her dreams. Unfortunately, the warehouse and the playful spirit that lives in it won’t fit in Gigi’s luggage.

~

Gigi wakes to dappled gold and pillowy warmth. She rolls over, careful not to disturb the gentle arm draped across her midsection, and meets eyes as soft as the sky after the first winter snow.

“Good morning, Miss Goode,” Nicky whispers, a smile in her sleep-heavy voice. Gigi loves the mornings after Nicky stays over, when she can wake up to tender kisses and warm tan skin, to the way Nicky’s eyes seem to sparkle faintly in the half-light.

“Good morning,” she replies softly, their faces close, limbs still entangled. “What’s the time?”

“Nine thirty. I was going to wake you up earlier, but you looked so peaceful.” Nicky’s words are brimming with affection, and it sets Gigi’s heart aflutter. She kisses Nicky again, a brush of butterfly wings at the edge of her mouth, before sliding out of bed and into the crisp morning.

The boxes lining the walls are a harsh reminder that it’s her last full day here, for tomorrow, she and Nicky will be moving to their new college dorm in preparation for their freshman year. There’s an aching nostalgia beneath her excitement; even if it’s only for a few months at a time, Gigi will be leaving behind her family and all her childhood memories. She’ll be leaving Crystal.

~

Gigi laughs as Crystal wraps her up in a white lab coat that’s just a little too tight around the shoulders, smoothing down the rumpled collar with velvet hands.

“Nearly done,” Crystal says, a playful twinkle in her eyes, and Gigi watches as she gathers handfuls of beaded necklaces from a nearby box and begins to sort through them. This has almost become tradition: every time she dresses Gigi up in the clothes they find in the warehouse, the finishing touch is always a stack of accessories. Gigi doesn’t mind it, but her favourite thing is the way Crystal smiles softly to herself while she picks them out, as though she is making the most important decision in the world.

She returns, this time, with all the green and orange ones, and puts them on for Gigi with the utmost care.

“Green for the dress,” she tells her as she works. “And orange to match your pretty hair.”

“I look like a crazy doctor,” Gigi admits when she’s done.

Crystal simply grins, completely unfazed, and hands Gigi a ginger toy cat to finish the look.

“I did a great job,” she says, half to herself. “Didn’t I, Crazy Doctor Goode?”

Gigi snickers, holding the plush cat close.

“Always the best, Miss Methyd.”

~

“Are you ready to go?”

“I am, I am, I’m sorry I’m–”

“Don’t be.” Nicky smiles, wrapping an arm around Gigi’s waist and pressing a kiss to her head. “There’s no rush. She won’t mind if we’re a little bit late.”

“I know, I just wanted to be there earlier so we could spend more time together.” She rifles through her bag, double checking everything.

“I understand that.”

Gigi exhales when her fingers brush a package wrapped in soft tissue.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

~

The warehouse door rattles with the late autumn chill, but Gigi hardly notices, curled up in the warmth of an old beanbag with Crystal’s favourite candles burning nearby. The warehouse smells sweetly of caramel, the firelight shivering as Crystal flicks her fingers through it, mesmerised.

“I’m done,” Gigi says, and Crystal looks up immediately, eyes bright with excitement. Gigi hands over her sketchbook and Crystal studies it for a moment before her body begins to shift. Her red hair spills into auburn waves as her ruff disappears, smooth skin and a colourful dress quickly replacing her glittering fur. The crystalline scarlet of her eyes twists into a stormcloud blue and, quite suddenly, Gigi is looking at herself.

“I love the colours,” Crystal murmurs with Gigi’s mouth, running slender fingers up one blue-and-yellow plaid sleeve. The dress skims the tops of her thighs, ivory buttons gleaming, and she’s wearing a pair of chunky white heels with gauzy socks pulled over her knees. It amazes Gigi, how Crystal can so effortlessly bring each of her sketches to life.

She has to admit, though, that she has never gotten used to seeing Crystal wearing her face. Crystal insists on it - “you should see what you would look like in your own design,” she always says, and Gigi doesn’t usually argue.

“I want to see how you would look in it, too,” she tells Crystal this time. Crystal stops midway through a spin - she seems to be enjoying the little flared skirt - and stares thoughtfully at Gigi.

“Okay,” she agrees, her body morphing back into its usual form, red fur bright against the spring plaid. “How do I look?”

Gigi hides her smile behind her hand. “Gorgeous,” she says. “Very colourful.”

“Perfect.” Crystal curtsies clumsily, stumbling in her high heels, and Gigi snickers as Crystal falls into her lap.

“Stop laughing at me,” she whines, but there’s humour laced through her voice as she flicks Gigi over the head with her tail. “I don’t know how you deal with having legs like this. They’re so stiff!”

“I don’t know how you deal with not having feet,” Gigi counters. “Besides, you were spinning around without a problem earlier - you’re just embarrassed that you tripped over.”

Crystal rolls over in Gigi’s lap to face her, eyes wide with mock offense. “I can’t believe you would call me out like that!” She gasps before falling limp, the back of her hand pressed dramatically to her head. “I’m revoking your friendship privileges.”

“I’ll get them back eventually,” Gigi says with confidence, tickling her sides. Crystal wheezes, jolting upright to grab Gigi’s shoulders when she nearly squirms off of her lap.

“And how do you know that?” she queries, her overdramatic act all but forgotten.

“Because you love me,” Gigi teases. Crystal’s grip is tight, her face a breath away, and for a moment Gigi loses herself to the warmth of her eyes and the way they crinkle at the edges as she breaks into a smile.

“Okay. That’s a very good point,” Crystal says, tapping Gigi lightly on the nose. “But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Whatever for?”

“You know what for.” Crystal narrows her eyes, still sparkling with playfulness.

“No, I’m not sure I do, actually.” Gigi flutters her lashes innocently. “But… while you’re here, I do have a question for you.”

“Alright…”

“What was your favourite design from today?” Gigi reaches to pick up her sketchbook, letting Crystal lie back down in her lap as she flips through it. When she finally stands, Gigi watches with tingling legs as she shifts into a leather biker number, noticing with amusement that she’s even changed her fur to match the bright pastel hues of the outfit.

Crystal takes a moment to examine herself, toying with the chains dangling from her belt before she makes the silver shinier.

“Yeah yeah yeah, definitely this one.” She twirls, steady now that she’s no longer wearing shoes, and nearly knocks over a candle with her tail. Gigi can’t help but laugh as Crystal bows dramatically, a giddy smile lighting up her face.

~

Gigi holds Nicky’s hand as they walk up the familiar path to the warehouse. It’s a nice day: it’s sunny, the air blooming as warm as the sparks of flame from Crystal’s palms. Gigi thinks of her, already aching with the nostalgia of her late teenage memories - she’s lived here, surrounded by the same people, for her entire life, and she can’t imagine what college will be like without them. She doesn’t even need to leave to know how much she’ll miss it all.

But it’s leaving Crystal that hurts the most. She’s the only one Gigi won’t be able to call or text while she’s gone, and she’s the only one without another life to go on with: all she has is her curse, trapping her in the confines of the warehouse. At least there are the breaks, Gigi reminds herself, when she can come back to meet Crystal’s gentle embrace and see the playful joy in her eyes again. She only hopes Crystal will be okay on her own.

“What are you thinking about?” Nicky asks, swinging their clasped hands.

“Just…” Gigi hesitates. “Just about the last three years, really.” About Crystal. The only part of her childhood she can’t take with her. The words hang unspoken between them.

“You’re going to miss her, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Gigi rests her head on Nicky’s shoulder as they walk, grateful for her company, her quiet understanding, and for the fact that she doesn’t have to leave Nicky behind, too. “You, Crystal and Jackie were like my first real friends. Do you remember that time when I got locked in the warehouse?”

Nicky snorts. “How could I forget?”

“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I guess that was the day that I realised what real friendship is like,” Gigi murmurs.

“I’m glad you did,” Nicky replies, and there is a heavy layer of seriousness beneath her words. “You stopped trying to be friends with those bullies after you met Crystal. It was such a relief, honestly.”

Gigi can’t help but snicker. “I was so dumb.”

“You’re still dumb,” Nicky says affectionately. “But that’s why I like you.”

“You know what? I’m not even going to argue with that.”

“Good,” Nicky laughs, “because if you tried to act all ‘cool’ again, I might have to reconsider this relationship.”

Gigi draws back, eyes wide with mock offense. “You would never!”

“Try me.”

“I’m not going to. I like you too much for that.”

Nicky presses a kiss to her cheek. “Fine by me. I like you a little too much for that, too.”

Gigi giggles, and they keep walking as road turns to rubble, loose stones crackling beneath their feet. The old warehouse sits, lonely and imposing, at the crest of the hill, its metallic walls gleaming harshly in the morning sun. The sight of it is comfortingly familiar.

Nicky suddenly bursts out laughing. Gigi swings her head around to look at her, loving the way she tilts her face up to the sun and how it dapples her cheeks with roses.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, I was just” - Nicky snorts mid-sentence - “just thinking about that time Crystal pretended to be me. It was so terrible it was funny.”

Gigi grins at the memory. “Apart from her accent, it was actually pretty accurate,” she teases, laughing when Nicky elbows her playfully.

“Shut up. I knew you could tell the difference immediately.”

“Not until she started talking,” Gigi counters, still smiling. “I went outside just for a moment, and when I came back…”

~

There’s two Nickys.

“Hello, Gigi,” one of them says wryly, her arms crossed over her chest, icy eyes dancing with amusement. The other is crouched on the concrete floor, fixing something on her shoes.

Gigi’s eyes dart from one Nicky to the other. “Hello,” she says eventually, stifling a smile.

“Sacré bleu,” growls the Nicky on the ground as she stands. Her French accent is rough, too throaty and harsh to be real, but it doesn’t matter because Gigi can already see that this Nicky is doing everything in her power not to laugh. “You’re an idiot, Gigi. Salope!”

“Oh my god, I don’t talk like that,” Nicky sighs with breathless laughter, resting her face in her hands. “And if you’re going to keep using French phrases, I need to teach you to use them properly.”

“I think her impression is spot-on,” Gigi giggles.

“Who? What are you talking about? I’m Nicky, I don’t know who that - who that dumb bitch is.” Nicky jabs her thumb at Nicky, face pinched in an exaggerated expression of distaste. Her rough French accent is falling apart over peals of choked laughter, her shoulders shaking with silent mirth.

“You can stop now,” Nicky groans, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “This is insane–”

“Salope!” the other Nicky yells, throwing her arms up in the air with delighted enthusiasm.

~

Gigi is bombarded by a hug the moment the warehouse door swings open.

Crystal’s fur is practically sparking with excitement as she pulls Nicky into the embrace with her tail. Gigi relaxes into the warmth of their arms, feels Crystal’s smile against her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, you guys,” Crystal squeals, stepping back, “you’re both going to college tomorrow! You must be so excited!”

Gigi scans her face, her ruby eyes, for any sign of distress, but Crystal is radiating nothing but sunshine and positivity. Gigi bites her lip.

“We are,” she murmurs. Crystal must hear the hesitance in her voice, because her smile softens as she reaches out to gently pat Gigi on the head.

“I’m going to miss you,” Crystal whispers, almost reassuringly, but she isn’t looking Gigi in the eye anymore. “I have great news too, though! You won’t believe this, but I’m finally allowed to go back to the spirit realm! My… curse, I guess? It’s been lifted!”

“That’s - that’s great news,” Gigi says, trying to smile for Crystal, but her voice breaks. She’d known this day would come eventually, when Crystal would finish her task and be whisked away back to the spirit realm for good, but it’s not enough to prepare her for it. She feels Nicky’s arm on her shoulders as Crystal’s joyful expression crumbles like melting ice. Gigi covers her face with one hand, overcome with shame. “Shit. I’m - I’m sorry, I’m really happy for you, but–”

She trails off when Crystal whimpers. Gigi looks up, only to see her bottom lip quivering, her eyes liquid lava. Crystal falls into her arms, sobbing, and Nicky reaches out with a comforting hand as they slide in a heap to the ground.

“I can’t stand to see you upset,” Crystal sniffles. “I’m going to miss you both so much, you don’t even understand–”

Gigi chokes down a wave of emotion, struggling to maintain her composure as Crystal cries into her shirt. Even Nicky - stoic, calm Nicky, crouching just beside her - looks like she’s blinking back tears.

“I - will I ever get to see you again?” Gigi whispers hoarsely.

“I don’t know.” Crystal’s voice wobbles. “I’ll do my best to come back, I promise, but… there are restrictions.”

“Fuck the rules,” Gigi mutters. “If you’re free now, shouldn’t–”

“I wish it worked like that,” Crystal sighs, cutting her off. “I’m still one of the lower spirits and there are still a ton of rules because… well, I don’t know. I guess they’re worried about us causing too much chaos.”

Nicky jumps into the conversation then, her eyebrow arched in incredulity. “They don’t want you causing chaos in the human realm, and yet they trap you here when you’ve done something wrong? That’s like telling a robber not to steal and then locking them in a bank vault.”

Crystal manages a weak laugh. “It’s so stupid, right?”

“God, I–” Gigi swallows thickly, still holding Crystal close, trying desperately to memorise the way her fur shimmers as it catches the light and how her palms spark with heat every time their hands touch. “I can’t imagine never seeing you again.” Her voice is breaking and she pauses, eyes swimming with tears. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much. Thank you for making the last years of my childhood so wonderful.”

“Aw, don’t get all sappy on me, Miss Gigi.” Crystal’s face is soft with a watery smile as she draws back, hands still clasped around Gigi’s shoulders. “That’s my job, silly.”

This gets a laugh out of Gigi. “I’m stealing it, just for today.”

“Yeah. She’s got to get her feelings out now, otherwise she’ll be a mess in the car ride tomorrow,” Nicky comments lightly, rubbing comforting circles into Gigi’s back.

Crystal giggles. “For real, though, you must be so excited. You’re finally going to fashion school!”

“I am, I’m really looking forward to it.” Gigi wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It sucks that I can’t take you and the entire warehouse with me, though.”

“It’s okay. Once you’re there, you’ll be too busy to miss me that much,” Crystal says, but she sounds like she’s reassuring herself as much as Gigi. “And I can finally go home. How good is the timing, though? I got the message just yesterday and begged them for one more day so I could say goodbye.”

“The greater spirits must think you’re crazy - stuck here for thirteen years, and yet you still want an extra day!” Gigi jokes, a genuine smile creeping onto her face. Crystal always makes her smile.

“Oh, I know! They finally told me what my moral task was, too, and you won’t believe this - empathy! They trapped me here for thirteen years because they thought I was annoying!”

Gigi sputters out a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! Apparently I was insufferable beforehand. They were like” - Crystal puts her hands on her hips and adds a gruff edge to her voice, pinching her brows - “oh, yeah, took you long enough to learn to care about others and stop being such a little brat even though we never told you what the problem was, so, uh, we guess you can come home now.”

“What did you do to piss them off so much?” Gigi asks incredulously. Despite her numerous conversations with Crystal over the course of three years, she doesn’t think she’s heard anything worthy of a decade-long banishment.

“I can only imagine,” Nicky snickers.

“Hey, shut up,” Crystal giggles. “It was kind of like what I was doing here, before I met you - pulling pranks on people just for the laughs, except I was always the only one laughing… Oh, and I guess Rock was too, except she must be a lot more empathetic, because apparently she finished her task five years ago.”

Gigi remembers hearing about Rock: Crystal’s best friend from the spirit realm, equally as spritely and just as much of a prankster. According to Crystal, they got on like a house on fire.

“You must be excited to see her again,” she murmurs.

“Yeah. I doubt she made friends as good as you two, though,” Crystal says, gazing at Gigi and Nicky with unadulterated warmth and affection. “I can’t wait to tell her about you guys. She’s going to be so jealous of all the fun we had.”

“I’ll give you something more for her to be jealous of,” Gigi says, biting back a grin at the way Crystal’s eyebrows shoot up with eager curiosity. She feels for the bulky weight in her bag and pulls out a package, delicately wrapped in orange tissue paper. Crystal’s fur is practically sizzling with excitement as Gigi deposits the gift in her waiting hands.

She tears the paper away with gusto, revealing a motorcycle jacket made of soft leather. It’s a sleek ebony with a red satin inner lining, crimson leather popping at the collar. Crystal toys with the silver buckles before letting out a quiet gasp when she turns the jacket around: her name is embroidered into the leather, red and silver letters gleaming bright against the midnight black.

“Did you make this?” she whispers as she hugs it to her chest, staring at Gigi, wide-eyed with wonder.

“You should’ve seen her,” Nicky says warmly. “She spent hours obsessing over it… she wanted it to be perfect.”

“And it is.” Crystal’s voice is choked with emotion, fresh tears welling at her eyes. “It’s more than perfect… Oh, Gigi, I love it, I’m never going to take it off.” In one swift movement, she slides the jacket onto her shoulders, unable to stop admiring the immaculate craftsmanship.

“I’m glad you like it,” Gigi murmurs. She can’t help but swell with pride at the awe and disbelief blossoming across Crystal’s face - all the long nights she put into finishing the garment feel more than worth it, just for this moment.

“Are you kidding? This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Crystal gushes, pulling Gigi into another hug. “I’m going to wear it all the time so I can think of you every day, and all the other spirits will wish they were banished for thirteen years just so they could have something as cool as this.”

Gigi laughs. “Make sure to emphasise that it’s hand-made and one-of-a-kind. They’ll be really jealous then.”

“Oh, I will!” Crystal promises. “Thank you so much, Gigi. It’s so gorgeous! I can’t believe you made it just for me… it even has my name on it!”

“Do you remember the last time you were shapeshifting into all of my outfit ideas?” Gigi asks her.

Crystal nods emphatically.

“I remember you said your favourite was the leather biker one,” Gigi says, a smile in her voice, “so I made something similar, just more fitting to your colour scheme. Now, you don’t need to turn yourself all pink and yellow.”

Crystal’s cheeks flare gold like she’s been kissed by sunlight. “That’s so sweet,” she squeals, looking like she’s about to cry again.

Nicky shuffles closer, resting a steady hand on both Gigi and Crystal’s shoulders. “Seeing as this is our last day together,” she says gently, “do you guys want to do something fun?”

~

“But, Gigi, our exams–”

“Shush, you’ve been stressing non-stop for three weeks! Give yourself a break,” Gigi says, pausing when she sees Jackie’s dubious expression. “Fine, we’ll revise later. But Crystal’s been dying to meet you, so you’re not getting out of this.”

She leads Jackie to the warehouse, pushing open the door to the charcoal scent of fire… and a lightshow.

Sparks sizzle, shooting up like fireworks until they bounce off the high ceiling and shower the room in a cascade of embers. A ball of scalding gold begins to take shape in the midst of the firestorm, twisting as it expands and splits into two. Behind it, Crystal’s face is illuminated with rippling light, orange flames dancing in her eyes.

She hasn’t noticed them yet. Gigi watches, breathless with awe, as Crystal juggles the fiery orbs between her fingers with unparalleled dexterity. Finally, she closes her fists, plunging the room into a muted darkness still spitting with dying embers–

And then flames shoot up her arms, flaring outwards in a plume of scarlet and gold. The jewel tones of Crystal’s fur are amplified, as though her soul is incandescent, blazing through her skin.

She raises her arms with a fiery swoosh and suddenly, she’s a phoenix, as the topaz flames streaking from her arms billow into brilliant wings.

“Woah,” Jackie breathes, and Gigi can only nod in agreement, lost for words. She’s never been exposed to the true scope of Crystal’s powers before, and stars, how she wishes she had. Crystal is beautiful, shrouded in fire - she looks confident, commanding… she is electrifying.

She is nothing short of a goddess, and Gigi can’t tear her gaze away.

Then Crystal turns, tongues of flame still surging from her arms and back. Gigi takes a moment to admire her, her soft jaw alight with warm gold, before Crystal’s face cracks with realisation.

She’s seen them. In an instant, the flames vanish, leaving nothing but a handful of embers sizzling on the cold concrete floor. The building is abruptly plunged back into a colourless darkness.

A moment later, the warehouse lights flicker to life, and Gigi blinks as her eyes adjust.

“Hi, Gigi!” Crystal waves cheerfully from the lightbox before bouncing over. “And you must be Jackie, right? It’s so good to finally meet you!”

“Crystal! That was incredible!” Gigi gushes, unable to stop herself, her intentions of formally introducing Crystal to Jackie momentarily forgotten. “How come you’ve never done it before?”

“Oh, uh…” Crystal scratches the back of her neck, suddenly shy. “It’s just a thing I’ve been practicing. I didn’t think you’d like it - the last time I did something like that with people around, they, uh… they started burning.” She bites her lip sheepishly as Jackie grimaces. “I think they survived. I mean, they must have, they were okay enough to run away screaming.”

“Ah. Well.” Gigi frowns, not quite sure what to do with this new information. “I thought–”

“Wait, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Crystal’s eyes are round with worry as she runs up to delicately cup Gigi’s face, checking it for burns, before her gaze flickers to Jackie. “Crap, what an awful first impression. I’m so sorry.”

Gigi’s throat tightens as Crystal steps back, her shoulders drooping with shame. She looks so tiny compared to the whirlwind creature of flame that lit up the warehouse mere moments ago, Gigi almost doesn’t recognise her.

“We’re alright.” Gigi moves closer to hold both of her hands, comfortingly rubbing her thumbs over Crystal’s knuckles. “It was a beautiful show, Crystal. You’re very talented.”

“Really?” she seems to brighten, then, dark lips quirking up in the beginnings of a smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Jackie interrupts, startling them both, “how did you do that, Crystal? When Gigi said you could control fire, I thought she was exaggerating, but… wow.”

Crystal’s smile stretches into a grin, so unreserved and genuine that it makes Gigi’s chest flare with warmth. Crystal wears happiness well.

“Magic,” she tells Jackie easily.

Gigi can’t help but giggle when Jackie’s eyebrows crease in disbelief. Crystal meets Gigi’s gaze, her face flashing with delight, before she steps back and transforms into the thing of legends: a creature made entirely of ice cream.

“Magic,” she says again, her voice slightly more garbled now as ice cream drips down her chin. Jackie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets, and Gigi almost chokes on her own laughter.

~

They take the long way home, skirting the town, following the lines of trees flanking the unpaved road. Nicky drives, humming softly to the pop music pounding through the car as Gigi shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

She knows that Crystal won’t be there. She knows that she’ll open the warehouse door to be met with a dark silence, colder now that Crystal’s warmth and energy is gone, the faint smell of caramel still lingering if she breathes in deep enough. Gigi knows this, but she still wanted - no, she insisted on coming this way, even if it’s just so she can stand there one more time and let the memories sink into her skin.

They turn a corner, and Gigi’s heart plummets.

She blinks, sure that she’s hallucinating, but the warehouse is no longer silhouetted against the crystalline sky; instead, there are enormous yellow machines, whirring and crunching through what’s left. Gigi’s skin prickles with how hauntingly wrong this is, and it takes her a moment to realise she’s shaking.

The car stops on the side of the road and Gigi feels Nicky’s arm snake around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug across the centre console. Gigi presses her nose into Nicky’s neck, breathing in the familiar French vanilla scent of her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Nicky murmurs, stroking her hair.

“I knew she wasn’t going to be there. But…” The words tremble, bitter and acrid on Gigi’s tongue. “But this… this makes it all worse.”

She can’t even bring herself to hate the childish whine that’s crept into the edges of her voice. The biggest reminder of Crystal she had left in her life is now gone, and all their memories swept away with it, reduced to rubble. Gigi feels its absence like a stab through the chest.

“I know.” Nicky’s words are weighted with grief. Her embrace is tight, cozy, and Gigi sinks into it as a heavy silence falls over the car.

Several heartbeats pass before Nicky draws back again, gently brushing her thumb along Gigi’s jaw. “Let’s go home,” she murmurs. “We can stop for ice cream or something on the way back, if you want.”

“Wait. I… I want to stand there one last time.”

“Are you sure?” Nicky’s eyes flash with doubt, but Gigi is already pushing open the door, stepping out into the crunch of gravel. She looks back at Nicky and nods, just once.

“One last time,” she says again. “Come on, Nicky. Let’s go say good-bye.”

Nicky hesitates before sliding out of the drivers’ seat, taking Gigi’s hand in her own as they traipse up the hill. There are fences everywhere now, dotted with neon warning signs barring people from getting too close.

It’s not like anyone even comes here, anyways, Gigi thinks to herself. Anyone but us.

She lets out a heavy breath as she scans the wreckage. Sheets of metal and demolished shelving planks are piled in a heap, ready to be removed; the boxes of toys and clothes and things that Crystal loved so much are gone, and with them - and her - all the colour and liveliness of the place has disappeared too. It seems, quite suddenly, like a memory from another lifetime, and the ground that Gigi stands upon is now unfamiliar.

She feels Nicky squeeze her hand as she closes her eyes, remembering the golden days when she’d run up into Crystal’s arms and meet the sunshine in her pearly smile. She holds the memories close in her chest, resurrecting them over the cold, lifeless sight that now lies before her.

A warm breeze whisks around them, stirring up the long grass at Gigi’s feet. For a moment, it feels as though Crystal has her arms around Gigi’s shoulders again, grinning against her cheek.

Gigi swallows down the lump in her throat.

“Goodbye, Crystal,” she whispers to the sky, and when she turns around, she doesn’t look back.

Nicky drives her home, leaving her at the doorway with a gentle kiss and a glaze in her eyes that might be pity. Gigi kisses her back and watches the car disappear before she knocks on the door, three times, breaking into a genuine smile when she sees her parents’ joyous faces. It hits her when she falls into her mother’s embrace how much she’s missed the comforts of her childhood home and her family; no amount of FaceTime calls could make up for this cosy sense of security, this unconditional love.

It feels so good to be home.

When she sits with them at the table, armed with a plate full of fresh biscuits and a hundred stories, she forgets to be sad. Instead, she loses herself in the laughter and the easy conversation.

Later, she opens the door to her bedroom, dizzy with the events of the day. She’s more than ready to finally relax, after the long drive home and the churning horror of seeing the ruined warehouse. A part of her still refuses to believe that it’s gone: to Gigi, it will always be Crystal’s warehouse.

She blinks herself out of her trance and finds herself standing by her old wardrobe. Throwing open its doors, she runs her hand through the rows of old clothes and outfits that didn’t make it to her college dorm.

Her fingers brush soft, worn denim and she stops.

It’s the outfit from the day she met Crystal.

Gigi pulls it out, suddenly choked up. In her mind’s eye, she sees Crystal, flower crown sitting crookedly around her horns as she smiles. She can still hear her bluebell laughter and the loud clicking of an obscene number of beaded necklaces.

She traces her fingers over the seams, smiling at the memories, still crisp and clear despite the years that have passed. Crystal might be gone, but seeing these reminders fills Gigi with so much joy that the ache of missing her doesn’t hurt quite so much.

After another moment of silent reminiscing, Gigi hangs the denim outfit back up in her wardrobe and continues to rifle through the rows of colourful garments. In the shock of seeing the warehouse torn apart, she’d forgotten the collection of things Crystal had given her to take home over the years. The denim number was only the first.

Gigi can’t help but giggle when she finds three plastic takeaway boxes stuffed with accessories. If anything reminds her of Crystal, it’s this: she loved her jewellery more than anything else.

“There can always be more,” she once said sagely, handing Gigi a stack of necklaces. “More is more, and more is… better.”

Sliding the boxes out of her wardrobe, Gigi goes to sit on her bed and–

“Shit!”

She scrambles up as though she’s been burned; there’s something beneath the covers, something that seems to crackle beneath her weight. Whatever it is, she’s sure it’s not supposed to be there. Leaving the boxes of jewellery on her bedside table, she gingerly draws back the sheets.

She nearly cries when she sees it, messily folded, still wrinkled through the sleeves. Her breath catches in her throat when she picks it up, holding it as though it’s made of glass. The bird on the front looks like it might be smiling.

It’s Crystal’s favourite beaded jacket.

She’d pulled it out of a box when Gigi first met her, and she wore it for the rest of the day. Gigi smiles when she remembers how adorably ridiculous Crystal looked, with the colourful patterned jacket and a green-and-gold clown hat, and almost laughs when she thinks back on her own fear. It’s hard to imagine being scared of Crystal now.

Something falls out from between the folds of the jacket when Gigi opens it up, catching her eye as it drifts down to her bed. It’s a sheet of paper, scrawled over with tight, blocky letters.

Hi Gigi!

I kind of timed this really badly because you don’t seem to be back from your big fancy college yet, and if I could figure out where that is, that would be awesome, but the fact is that I have absolutely no idea. Am I rambling? I think I’m rambling.

Stars, Gigi, I miss you so much you have no idea. I’ve been wearing the jacket you made for me every single day and it’s so comfy and beautiful and honestly, I might not be a high-ranking spirit, but I’m definitely one of the coolest. If not the coolest. So thank you for that!

Oh, and Rock wants to say hi, by the way. She’s super jealous of my jacket (as expected) and she wants one too, but I told her she could only have one if she became as close with you as I did. She just told me I sucked. Whatever! I’m still the one with the epic jacket.

Speaking of which, I wanted to leave you something to remember me by too, so here’s my old favourite jacket. It’s really special to me because I was wearing it the first time you came to the warehouse, and I want you to have it now. Can you believe how much things have changed since then? I remember how scared you were and how lonely I was, and somehow we ended up being best friends. I’m really happy we did. Those were some of the best years of my existence, and I’ll treasure them forever.

I’d better wrap this up quick, I can hear footsteps outside your door. I don’t think your family would be too pleased to see a spirit lurking in your bedroom, even if they know who I am! I hope you’ve had the BEST time at college and that I can get permission to come visit your realm again (hopefully when you’re actually back home, so you can tell me all about fashion school!)

Okay, I really should go.

I miss you!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

Love,

Crystal

The note is enough for the dam in Gigi’s eyes to finally break. Trembling with emotion, she slides onto the floor, hugging the jacket and the note so close against her chest that she hears the paper crinkle.

Everything about it feels so wonderfully Crystal, from her fast, messy scrawl to the doodles lining the margins of the page. Gigi reads the note again through blurred eyes, treasuring every word, unable to wipe away her smile even when her cheeks begin to ache. She doesn’t know whether or not Crystal saw the ruins of the warehouse, but suddenly it doesn’t seem to matter. All that’s important is that she managed to come back, and that she still misses Gigi as fiercely as Gigi misses her.

And now, Gigi has another sliver of her, another glorious memory brought to life in fabric and colourful buttons. The statement piece of a collection.

It still smells of embers and caramel candles.

~

She returns the very next weekend.

The door creaks loudly on rusted hinges when she pushes it open and timidly looks inside, only to be met with darkness.

“Hello?”

Her voice echoes once before there’s an enormous crash, followed by the clicking of hooves on hard concrete. A moment later, Crystal appears, half of her face illuminated by the stripe of sunlight through the door.

“You came back!” she squeals, bouncing giddily on the spot, her fur shimmering with crimson stardust.

“I told you I would,” Gigi says, a smile forming on her face of its own accord. “I have something to show you that I think you might like.”

“Ooh!” Crystal claps her hands in excitement, and fiery sparks spray onto the ground. “Hold on, let me get the lights. I keep them off, usually, because I read somewhere that they’re not friendly to your planet.”

Gigi hums in agreement and watches as her grey silhouette darts across to the lightboard. A moment later, the room is washed in pearly white, reigniting the sparkles in Crystal’s hair. She’s beaming, her face alight with elation, and Gigi can’t help but grin too.

“You’re still wearing the jacket,” she comments, stepping into the warehouse and letting the door swing shut behind her. This time, the loud CLANG doesn’t make her jump.

“Oh, yeah.” Sheepishly, Crystal toys with the edges of the colourful garment, tracing the white patterns on the sleeves. “It makes me think of how much fun I had when you were here, and that makes me happy.”

She looks unusually shy, her eyes trained on the floor as her tail twitches behind her. Gigi closes the distance between them and gently adjusts Crystal’s collar, the plastic beads cool beneath her fingertips.

“It suits you,” Gigi tells her warmly. Crystal finally looks up, her candy-apple eyes swimming with what might be incredulity or a wonderstruck elation.

Perhaps it’s both, Gigi thinks, digging around in her pocket for her phone. Crystal is watching her as though she isn’t quite sure whether or not Gigi is real, and that familiar pity wedges itself between her ribs.

“The thing I want to show you today is called Snapchat,” Gigi explains, opening the app. “It has tons of filters that we can mess around with.”

“Filters?” Crystal asks, perplexed, as she peers over Gigi’s shoulder. “Filters for what?”

“For your face.” Gigi suppresses a smile when Crystal scrunches up her nose in confusion. “Here, I’ll show you.”

She picks the infamous dog filter and tilts her phone until they’re both on the screen. A moment later, canine ears and noses appear on their faces, and Crystal starts back in surprise.

“That’s us!” She gasps, gaze darting between Gigi, her phone, and back again in disbelief. “But - but how does that work?” Frantically, she pats her face, feeling her nose and ears and horns, watching with wide eyes as her hands phase through the dog ears on screen.

Gigi bursts into laughter. “I told you, it’s a filter,” she giggles. “The phone scans your face and puts the filter over it, so it looks like you’re a dog, even though you’re not.”

“Oh.” Crystal lets her hands fall, and Gigi can almost see the thoughts spinning behind her ruby eyes. “So humans invented a way to… to pretend that they can shapeshift?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

It seems to click, then, and Crystal’s face lights up with amazement.

“That’s so cool!” she exclaims, stealing Gigi’s phone and peering eagerly at her dog-eared self. “Hey, why did my ears change? I liked the spotty ones!”

“I’ll have the spotty ones now,” Gigi says, shifting until she’s back in the frame and the black-and-white ears appear on her face. “Wait, watch this.” She opens her mouth, and Crystal’s eyes bulge when a long tongue unfurls on the screen. A moment later, Crystal follows suit, howling with excitement when she gets her own dog tongue.

“Are there any more of these ‘filters?’” she asks eagerly, her gaze still on the phone as she pulls faces at herself.

“Yeah! There’s plenty. If you give me my–”

“Wait! I just had the best idea,” Crystal interrupts, tossing the phone back to Gigi before running off. Gigi scrambles to catch it, blinking confusedly as Crystal disappears between the shelves.

“Crystal?” she calls out in concern, but all she hears in response is the scraping sound of something being dragged along the floor, before Crystal comes back around the corner with a large bean bag in tow.

“I found this again the other day,” she explains as she proudly deposits it in front of Gigi. “I thought that… if you came back, maybe we could use it. And here you are!” She throws her arms out for emphasis before flopping down into the bean bag, sending a spray of dust up after her. “It’s been here a while,” she adds, apologetically, when Gigi sneezes.

“That’s fine.” Gigi waves dust particles away from her face before taking a delicate seat on the bean bag. Crystal promptly grabs her shoulders, pulling her backwards until her entire weight is settled in the soft plush, curled up close to Crystal’s side.

“There. Perfect.” Crystal turns her head to grin at Gigi, breath warm on Gigi’s nose. “Now you can show me more of your filters!”

Gigi scrolls through the options as Crystal leans against her shoulder, the beads on her jacket pressing into Gigi’s arm. Finally, Gigi raises her phone above their faces, capturing them both in the frame, and–

Crystal shrieks with laughter, her hands flying to her face. She taps her nose, pulls at the corners of her mouth, snickering when the image on the phone mirrors her actions… except the miniature Crystal reflected back at her has Gigi’s crystalline eyes and button nose, whilst Gigi’s cheeks are glittering with gold, dark lips stretched around a grin.

“Wow, Gigi, you look especially lovely today,” Crystal giggles, pointing at Gigi’s face on the screen. “Red really suits you.”

“Why thank you,” Gigi replies graciously. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“I know, right? I should wear blue eyes more often.” She sits up in the beanbag as her features begin to change, and a moment later, Gigi finds herself staring… at herself.

“This is so fucking weird,” she says slowly, unable to stop a smile from pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Thank you. I live to please.” Crystal flicks her hair, still red and sparkling, over her ruff.

Gigi chuckles, lost for words. Crystal’s power is astonishing - when Gigi meets her eyes, it’s like looking in a mirror. It sends a strange shiver up her spine, but when Crystal grins shyly, glossy lips gleaming under the warehouse lights, Gigi can’t help but smile back.

~

Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see Crystal’s smile again. That endearingly playful smile was the only thing that never changed, even as her body shifted into all sorts of weird and wonderful things. Gigi hugs the jacket to her chest, tears streaming freely down her face in the privacy of her bedroom.

She recalls the paradise sunset of that second weekend, when she turned around on her way down the hill to see Crystal’s shimmering form silhouetted in the doorway, the amalgamation of colours on her jacket visible even from a distance. When Gigi thinks of the warehouse, she doesn’t see the wreckage and the big machines; instead, she remembers the glorious sunlight on the edge of Crystal’s face that afternoon, remembers how Crystal breathed life and excitement into everything she touched. She remembers how every day from then, the promise of her return hung silently in the air, sparkling gold and bright.

[ghosttotheparty]

cotton candy skies always look better in person

6. also on AO3 chapter five

The wind is cool on Lucas’s neck as he looks down at his phone. The bright green grass of the park he’s in is scratchy on his ankles as he crosses his legs in front of himself.

He has Instagram open, but not his personal account, not the one that Kes and Isa and Liv follow. Not the one with his face and funny captions and comments by his friends. Not the one people know about. 

This one, he started sometime last year, when hiding became too much and needed an outlet, and a diary didn’t work. He never posts pictures of himself (the profile picture is of a Greek statue), and never posts regularly. The captions never really make sense, are never thought out or planned. And the pictures are all of buildings, art, flowers, trees, the skyline of the city, Every last one: black and white. 

Until today. 

The photo he posts isn’t very colourful. It was taken at night, as Jens walked away from him down the street, illuminated by the yellow streetlamps, his arms extended in an impromptu pose as Lucas called, “I’m taking your picture!” The photo was taken seconds before Jens said, “Wait, shit, my bag!” and bolted back to the alley, emerging with his duffel bag hanging off his shoulders and Lucas nearly dropped his phone laughing. Lucas types out a quick caption, nothing thinking as his fingers move across the letters on his screen, posting it to the very few accounts that follow him. 

Lucas sighs, clicking his phone off and tilting his head back to look at the sky. It’s overcast, cloudy, but not gloomy exactly, the sun peeking through gaps in the clouds as they shift and flow above him. He reaches out, picking up a disposable coffee cup, and takes a tentative sip, watching as an old man through the park with a dog. The dog walks slowly for him, and Lucas smiles as he lowers the cup. The coffee isn’t too hot anymore, although his tongue still hurts from when he burned it earlier. He sets the cup on the ground, taking his hand away slowly to make sure it doesn’t fall in the grass, and leans over his legs, picking up his pencil and looking at his sketchbook in front of him. The page is blank, inviting. 

Lucas picks up the sketchbook, setting it on his lap and looks up at the building in front of where he sits, scanning the lawn, the door and windows, the trees, the roof, looking at the people walking past. Glancing back and forth, the building begins to take shape on his paper, light, straight lines stretching across the page. The building looks more geometric on his paper, faint guidelines just visible at every corner, every line rigid and straight, except the scribbles filling spaces for the trees.

This is peaceful, listening to the birds, to the faint sound of people talking across the park, hearing his pencil slide across the paper. Hearing dogs barking, cars passing, wind rustle through the trees. He hears faint laughter by the street and smiles softly. 

He drops his pencil on instinct when he hears his phone buzz, looking at it as it vibrates with the screen alight on top of his bag. At first, he rolls his eyes in annoyance at the interruption, but his face brightens when he reads Jens’s name on his screen.

He beams, leaning over and picking it up, a sudden giddiness glowing through his smile, the same giddiness that glows every time Jens calls, every time he texts, every time Lucas so much as thinks about him.

He pauses before answering, taking a breath, and notices the time before pressing answer and lifting the phone to his ear.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” he asks before Jens can say anything. 

“I’ve got a class in five minutes and I’ve managed to escape my friends for the time being, I have a question!”

Lucas raises his eyebrows and grins as his sudden urgency.

“Ask away,” he says, leaning across his crossed legs and lifting his pencil, looking back at the building as he adds details lightly around the roof.

“Do you have any plans this evening?”

And Lucas drops his pencil again. 

“Uhm…” He thinks, heart pounding in his chest excitedly. “I don’t think so.” And if there are plans, Lucas is more than willing to cancel.

“What do you think about going to that cafe I mentioned?”

“The cake one?” 

“Yeah.” It sounds like Jens is surrounded people, his voice a little breathless. 

“Yeah, I’d love to.” He pauses. “You don’t have a party or anything with your friends?” 

“I—Yeah, there’s a party, but I…” He trails off. “I’d rather be with you, to be honest.” 

Lucas squeezes his eyes shut and grins. 

“Okay.” 

There’s a moment of silence and Lucas can hear people talking and the sound of Jens’s breath and steps as he goes down stairs. He wonders if Jens can hear the birds on his end of the line.

“So yeah?” Jens asks. “I’ll meet you at our spot?” 

Our spot.

“Yeah, what time?” 

“Seven?” 

“That works for me.” 

“Okay.” He can hear Jens’s smile. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.” “Bye.”

“Bye.

Jens hangs up and Lucas slowly lowers his phone, smiling. He’s going on a date. A real, actual date, with the prettiest boy in Antwerp. The prettiest boy in the universe, really, as far as Lucas is concerned. 

And fuck, if he doesn’t look pretty in a button-down.

“You clean up nice,” Lucas says, reaching out and straightening his collar. Jens flushes under the lamplight, looking away and scratching the back of his head. 

“Thanks.” Jens takes a deep breath, looking Lucas up and down and suddenly Lucas feels self-conscious in his sweater. 

“Am I underdressed?” he asks, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his feet. 

“No, you look good.” Jens is smiling softly. 

“So, where are we going?” “Cafe. Come on.” Jens cocks his head and turns to go down the sidewalk. Lucas joins him, walking at his side silently. It’s already dark out, the street lit up by streetlamps, and Lucas looks up at Jens’s face, seeing his eyes shining in the light. 

“Yes?” Jens looks at him, smiling again.

“You’re pretty.” He looks ahead of himself and hears Jens scoff lightly.

There’s a moment of silence before Jens asks gently, “Can I hold your hand?” and Lucas grins, pulling a hand out of his pocket and holding it between them. Jens laces his fingers with Lucas’s, brushing his thumb over the back of his hand. Lucas sighs happily. 

“So you’d rather get cake with me than go to a fun party?” Lucas asks, and Jens swings their hands slightly.

“I’d rather sit on a dumpster with you than go to a fun party.” “That’s sweet.” Lucas squeezes his hand. 

“If I had gone, though, I probably would have ended up calling you again. 

“Also sweet.” 

Jens lets go of his hand to open the door of the cafe, stepping aside so Lucas can enter. ( Lucas tilts his head and says, “Oh, a gentleman.”) They sit at a small table against the wall, away from the door. There aren’t many other people, an elderly woman near the window with a thick book and thick glasses, and a middle-aged couple sitting in a booth, a small bouquet between them. The lighting is dim, yellow light omitted from hanging overhead bulbs and fairy lights. 

Jens sits against the wall, looking up at Lucas and propping his chin on his hands. 

“Hi,” Lucas says as he sits, copying him. “You know what you want?” 

“Uhm…” Jens scans his face. “I don’t know.” 

Lucas slides the menu next to him across the table and Jens takes it, opening it and looking down. 

“Coffee...Tea...Croissants…” He looks up. “Cafe basics.” 

Lucas laughs, cocking his head, and Jens looks back down at the menu. As Jens continues to read from it quietly, Lucas reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, snapping a picture of him. Jens hears and lifts the menu to cover his face, smiling bashfully. 

“Do  you think it’s too late to order a coffee?” Lucas asks, setting his phone on the table. 

“Oh, never.” Jens sets the menu down. “My mother would say yes, but I don’t feel like an herbal tea right now. 

“All I know is I want cake,” Lucas says, spinning the menu to see it. 

“Okay.” Jens snatches the menu and moves it away from him. Before Lucas can protest, Jens is standing. “I’ll surprise you. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” 

Lucas looks up at him and shakes his head. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Jens leaves to the counter and Lucas sighs, running his hands over his face and smiling. He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, before opening them and grabbing a napkin with one hand and reaching into his pocket with the other, pulling out a pen. He’d almost forgotten the pen on his way out his room. He likes carrying a pen with him, usually doodling on his hands or his ankles as he crosses a leg on top of the other. Other times, he doodles on trash, spare paper or receipts, napkins. The ink is black and light over the soft paper, a small flower taking shape. The lines are rough and sketchy. He tries to do a straight line but stops when the paper almost rips. 

There’s a small square of flowers by the time Jens joins him again, placing a mug in front of Lucas and another across from him. Lucas looks up and drops the pen, but Jens is walking back to the counter. Lucas watches as he lifts two plates and comes back, and moves the mugs and napkin out of the way for the plates. 

“Okay, I’m back now,” Jens says, flopping in his seat. He drops several packets of sugar on the table. “I figured with the cake that you have a sweet tooth, so here.”

Lucas smiles and grabs three, ripping them all together and pouring them into his coffee. 

---

“You’ve got…” Lucas gestures to Jens’s face, suppressing a smile. 

“What?” 

There’s a smudge of chocolate on his cheek, and Lucas hesitates before grabbing another napkin and leaning across the table and carefully wiping his face. Jens lets him, his cheeks and ears turning red. 

“Oh.” 

Lucas giggles and retracts his hand, letting Jens take the napkin.

“You’re an idiot,” Lucas says softly, affectionately, picking up his pen and adding some tiny lines to his doodle of Jens on the napkin. He hears Jens scoff. 

“Fuck you.” There’s laughter in Jens’s voice and Lucas smiles.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn…” 

He finishes the sketch and looks up to see Jens staring at him with a straight face, his lips pressed together. Lucas stares back, trying not to smile, and Jens takes a deep, slow breath, exhaling shakily before bursting out laughing. Lucas laughs, shushing him.

“Shut up!” 

“Sorry, I’m just—” Jens covers his face and turns away. His eyes are squeezed shut and Lucas can hear his short breaths as he laughs, making Lucas laugh harder.

Jens takes a deep breath and lowers his hands, gesturing to the two almost-empty plates of cake between them.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” 

Lucas laughs again, dropping his head against the table, his shoulders shaking. He’s glad there aren’t many people in the cafe. 

“Cake doesn’t count as dinner,” he says, lifting his head.

“What do you mean?” Jens leans in, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. “Anything is dinner if you’re not a coward.”

Lucas snorts and takes another bite of cake. 

“Okay, fine.” He starts to draw more flowers around Jens. He can feel Jens’s eyes on him as he does, and the air has shifted around them slightly, but he ignores it as he feels Jens’s knee press into his under the table.

---

He walks Jens home. Really, he just wants to spend every last second possible with him, but the excuse he says is that Jens was the gentleman at the cafe, and now it’s Lucas’s turn.

They stop outside an apartment building and Jens turns to Lucas, his fingers twisting in Lucas’s so he’s holding their hands between them. Lucas’s eyes flick back and forth between his, both their eyes glistening in the light of the streetlamps.

“I’ll see you on Thursday?” Jens asks after a second. 

“’Course.” 

Jens smiles softly and Lucas watches his mouth as he does, tightening his grip on Jens’s hand, and leans up slightly, bumping their noses together. Jens’s eyes flutter shut.

There aren’t just butterflies, it feels like there’s a flock of birds in his belly. And in his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He can feel Jens’s breath on his face, soft as gusts of wind from a butterfly’s wings.

Nudging their noses together, Lucas leans and turns his head, and presses his lips to Jens’s cheek gently. He can feel Jens’s cheek move as he smiles. 

“I’ll see you Thursday,” he says after kissing his cheek again and Jens nods. 

“Bye,” Jens whispers.

As Lucas walks away and he knows Jens can’t see him, he beams, squeezing his eyes shut. He turns a corner and presses his back to the wall, covering his face with his hands.

He stays there for almost a full minute, breathing deeply, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down. 

The napkin is stuffed in his pocket.