#tiny announcement about a way you can help support me and my art IF YOU WANT

[djosephqueery]

I've linked my ko-fi in my profile, in case anyone is interested. It's not very exciting, and doesn't have a header image yet (working on it), but it's there!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

DON’T YOU EVER GROW UP

CHARACTERS: Joel Miller & Sarah Miller

RATING: none | WORD COUNT: 900

SUMMARY: Joel experiences many emotions as Sarah reaches the childhood milestone of getting her “big girl” bed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is me, projecting my own experience onto my favorite character because I’m a fic writer and that’s what I do. Divider by @/saradika-graphics and beta read by @murder-wife 💕

LINKS: support for palestine 🇵🇸

Joel wipes the sweat beading along his hairline with the back of his hand. He stares at the new bed frame, his mind not reconciling how much bigger than her convertible crib it is. It's just a twin, white wood that matches her dresser and her bookcase stuffed with children's books of all shapes and sizes, but it seeing it take up so much space feels jarring.

"Little help?" Tommy calls from the hallway. Joel shakes his head to clear his thoughts before joining his brother, who holds one end of a mattress teetering on the stairs. Together they bring it the rest of the way into Sarah's room, settling it on the frame.

"Thanks for the help," Joel says, patting Tommy's shoulder. "I owe ya one."

"Don't sweat it. I know the little miss was dyin' for her new big girl bed."

There it is, the phrase that makes Joel's heart clench in his chest. Sarah's barreling towards five years old, shedding some of the baby roundness in her cheeks and no longer saying certain words incorrectly, the way toddlers tend to do. She gets up every morning for preschool and eats her cereal all by herself and comes home in the afternoon to tell Joel about her day, legs kicking against the chair while she shows him her art because she's not quite tall enough to reach the floor. Joel looks around the room again, remembering the rocking chair in the corner that was the first piece of her childhood to retire, followed by the changing table with its pile of diapers. He thinks about how small she'd been, how light her tiny body was on his chest and for a moment he misses it so fiercely his eyes burn with the threat of tears.

"I need a beer," Tommy says, leaving the room. Joel takes the opportunity to press his fingers to his eyes, willing the wave of emotion to subside before joining his brother in the kitchen.

They share a couple beers before Tommy checks his watch, announcing that he should leave. On the way out the door, they pass the dismantled crib and Tommy taps it with his hand.

"You want me to drop that off for donation?" he asks. Joel looks at the chipped white wood, rubs a thumb over a dent in the veneer.

"No, that's alright. I'll take care of it," he replies. Tommy shrugs and Joel walks him out to his truck parked in the drive way, waving him off. When Tommy disappears from view, he heads next door to Connie's house.

He knocks on the front door and waits, the sound of tiny feet against wood growing louder, making his smile grow wider. The door opens, Sarah's sweet face peeking through the crack allowed by the chain lock.

"Password?" she asks, tone as serious as a four year old can muster. Joel crouches down to look her in the eye.

"Pizza for dinner," he says. She squeals in excitement and jumps away from the door just as Connie unlocks it. His daughter sits on the worn carpet runner to pull on her shoes while Joel asks how she behaved.

"She was an angel as always," Connie assures him. "Wait right here, we made cookies earlier and I want to send y'all home with some."

Connie disappears down the hall and Sarah darts after her. When they return, his daughter is balancing a foil wrapped plate in both hands, tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration.

"Thanks again, Con. I'll be 'round Sunday to help Dan with the yard," Joel promises. Connie waves a hand at him.

"Don't you worry about it, you know it ain't a big deal to watch her. You got a good egg on your hands."

Back at home, Joel calls in an order for pizza that he shares with Sarah. He lets her take sips of his Coke to wash it down, her brown eyes wide with excitement at getting to drink soda with dinner. After a bath, pajamas, and a minor argument over brushing her teeth, Sarah enters her room for the first time that evening and sees her new bed.

"Wow!" she exclaims, clambering onto the mattress. She stands, jumping excitedly and Joel wraps an arm around her middle, placing her back on the ground.

"Remember how that song goes? The monkey falls off and bumps his head?" Joel asks, knocking his knuckles against the top of her head as she giggles. "No jumpin'. Come on, let's get your sheets on."

Together, though the bulk of the effort falls on Joel, they get her bed ready. Purple sheets with a cream colored quilt decorated with purple butterflies, a set that she spotted in the store that Joel went back to purchase on his own. She crawls between the sheets and settles her head on the pillow, ready for her stories. Joel reads three books of her choosing and shuts down her argument for a fourth, seeing that she can barely keep her eyes open any longer. He plugs in her pink butterfly nightlight and kisses her forehead.

"Goodnight, baby girl," he whispers.

"'M not a baby, I'm a big girl now," Sarah replies in her sleepy voice. Her eyes have already drifted shut before he can respond and he stands there for a moment, watching her with a lump in his throat.

Sarah may be getting bigger, but she'll always be his baby. Of that, Joel is certain.

Thank you for reading! For more of my writing visit:

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Joel Miller masterlist

[genevawrenn]

I am just going to put this at the top : this post is going to be a long vent about missing Technoblade, please scroll on if you do not wish to read.

We are coming up on two years without him.

We are also coming up on three years since I discovered his content.

I thought I was at the point I could watch one of his videos tonight, as I used to often do when I am doing tasks or writing he was always the background noise I used. I remember calling into work when he streamed for the sheer sake of enjoying them while they happened the few times I caught them before...well. I think you know. He was the reason my passion for writing came back to life and I believed I could actually follow my lifelong dream of eventually publishing a story.

But I suppose the part I always forget about grief is the absence of the unique spirit that person brought to your life. I found his content and engaged with it instantly, developing one of the longest running fixations I have had in a good while. The sheer excitement I'd have getting the notification he went live for one of his rare streams.

I don't think it truly sunk in when he announced his diagnosis. I remember discussing it with the irl friend who got me into watching him and both of us laughed, saying he's strong enough to fight off anything.

A few months pass with his rare posts and there was always this tiny little bit of intuition I had where he never told us what severity of cancer it was. Like he was a very private guy, yes, but this seemed extra...odd.

Then I remember the way my heart sunk when 'so long nerds' popped into my notification bar. The dashing of my heart against the floor texting people as I tearfully listened to Technodad tell us the words his son Alex wished for us to hear.

Its been a long two years. Its been great ones, tbh. I found a new passion with QSMP and Hermitcraft after the finishing of DSMP [tho c!Techno will forever remain close to my heart]. I kept writing, with over half a million words in published fics on ao3 and several WIP including 3 original novels.

But the only one I ever wanted to thank for helping me find my creativity again I can't, and I never will be able to.

I miss Technoblade.

I will never stop missing him.

I wish he could have laughed with his friends for many years yet, being silently proud of their accomplishments while he messed with people on the QSMP. I wish he could have had another MCC with friends.

I wish his unique soul wasn't taken from us so soon, as we weren't done following our hero yet.

But the only thing I can do now is continue to speak his tales. The first book I properly publish, the gratitude page is going to be addressed to him. I will continue to tell others about his accomplishments and tell them to go watch his content on his Youtube channel [get him to 17 million!]! Buy some of his merch [when it comes back in stock]! Support his family & friends!

Though he would call us nerds for crying, I think its beautiful how many lives he touched and how many thousands mourned his passing. He was a light all corners of the MCYT sphere and beyond saw and respected, and not too many creators can claim such an honour.

I'll always be a Voice at my core. Even if I spend my time these days as a crow, a huevito, a ferret, a tubling, a doozer and many more, my heart will forever belong to Technoblade.

Please keep creating art and writing in his name. I love scrolling the fanart tags and adore every piece I come across with my favourite piglin in them. Please, please, please keep saying his name. Sing his legends. Make references, continue the jokes, hang out in one of his friends chats and support the people he loved.

Support those who are still here, even if your heart hurts.

It's only painful because we all loved him so much, which is a beautiful type of sorrow.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Scrapbook: Chapter 3

Title: I Ain’t The Way You Found Me

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Chapter Summary: Mike and Dimples take the next leap in their relationship.

Warnings: none for this chapter

A/N: I’ve had this chapter done and ready since posting the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by Me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“Hey, Dad. I need your help with something.” Mike’s serious tone had his father stopping his packing of Mike’s dorm room.

“What’s going on, Mike?” Walter stood next to his son and crossed his arms.

“So, uh, I wanted to do something special at the graduation party next week. But I’m not sure how to do it. And, I, uh, just…need some advice on proposing to Dimples.” He blurts out the ending and Walter’s face breaks into a grin.

“Well, I’d say it’s about time, son. You’ve been together almost two years, you’re moving in together. I’m assuming you already have a ring?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been carrying it around for weeks.” Mike pats his pocket and doesn’t pull out the ring.

“Give us a look, then.” Walter sighs, making a ‘show me’ gesture with his hands.

“Oh, right. Duh!” Mike removes a rose-colored ring box, opens it, and hands it to Walter.

“You picked this out yourself?” Walter smiles at the ring, moving it around to catch the light.

“Yeah, with a few hints from Dimples. She’s mentioned how much she liked simple jewelry with a bit of flair. And the guy at the jewelers showed me this and I could see it on her finger, ya know?” 

“It’s gorgeous, son. She’s gonna love it.” Walter closes the ring box and hands it back to his son. “So, first things first. It doesn’t matter what you say to her, just do it on one knee. Speak clearly, speak from the heart, and you can’t go wrong.”

“Mikey!” Tiny arms are wrapping around him before he can think.

“My Cherie Amor!” Mike picks up his cousin and twirls her around, setting her back down on her feet. “Where’s your Dad, kiddo?”

“He and Mommy are talking to Uncle Walter and Auntie Eve,” She points over to where the parents are sitting at one of the picnic tables in the backyard.

“Why don’t you and Dimples hang out for a bit and I will be right back, ok?” He ruffles the little one’s hair and leans down to kiss the top of her head, leaving her with his girlfriend. Mike walks over to his Uncle Sy and pulls him away from the group. 

“Nephew, you got that look on yer face like yer planning something.” Sy sips from his beer to hide his amusement, even though he doesn’t have to.

Mike chuckles and rolls his eyes, looking over at where Cherie and Dimples are talking to Grandpa Gus. He turns back to Sy and pulls out the ring box and opens it. “I’m planning something huge, Uncle Sy.”

“Holy fuck, it’s about time, boy!” Sy says in a stage whisper, “That girl is already family, you know that.”

“Ok, between you and Dad, I feel like you’ve both been just waiting to bust my balls over this.” Mike closes the ring box and puts it back in his pocket.

“Mikey, she fits in here. Either you ask her to marry you, or…,” Something catches Sy’s eye and he shakes his head, “Or Gus will.”

Mike whips his head around to see Grandpa Gus and Dimples sitting alone, Gus’ arm around her while they take a selfie on her phone. He can’t help but smile and think she does belong with his family. She is his family. 

“Do me a favor and round everybody up. I better do this before he steals my girl.” Sy pats him on the shoulder and walks off to spread the word of an announcement.

Mike walks over to where Gus is still talking to Dimples with his arm around her. “Hey, Gramps. Can I have my girl back for a second?”

“Well, you can have her back but she could always end up being my girl if she plays her cards right. She’d make a beautiful bride.” Gus lifts her hand and places a kiss on it as Mike takes the other hand to pull her away.

“Gus, how many times do I have to tell you to stop flirting with my girl?” 

“I can stand to hear it a few more times, grandson,” Gus winks at Dimples and runs a finger over his mustache, “Either way, she flirted first.”

Mike turns to her and narrows his eyes. “I’ll just have to find a way to win you over, Dimples.” He looks around as everyone is making their way over to where they are standing. Mike smiles as she notices everybody else is smiling and looking at her. He gingerly steps behind her and she laughs nervously.

“Uh, what’s everybody doing? I know y’all saw Get Out, this is getting weird.” Confusion paints her face as Sy points behind her and she turns around to see Mike on one knee. She gasps, covering her mouth.

“From the first moment you smiled at me, I knew I wanted to see those cute dimples every day. When I kissed you for the first time, I knew I wanted to kiss you for the rest of my life. When you kicked my ass at laser tag, I knew I wanted you by my side forever. With your hand in mine, I feel like I can do anything. I promise you that no one will work harder to make you happy than me,” He takes out the small box, opens it, and holds out the ring, “I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Dimples wrap her arms around him after he put the ring on her finger.

The two of them are in their own world as they kiss, the world erupting around them as cameras flash around them and cheering begins.

Evan crouches next to Mike rubbing his back as Walter leans against the door frame of the bathroom. “Michael, you have to calm down. You’ll do fine up there. Just look at her, smile, say the words, and walk back down the aisle with your new wife. Trust me, son, she is probably just as nervous as you are.”

Mike spits one last time into the toilet bowl and stands to flush and wash his hands. Evan hands him the mouthwash, he uncaps it and takes a bit to swish around his mouth before spitting.

“Dad, I’m not getting cold feet, I swear. I wanna marry Dimples so hard I can taste it,” He chuckles at his own words and his father and brother join in, “I almost feel like she’s settling for me or something. Like, someone can make her happier out there and she hasn’t found them because I’m here taking all her time up.”

“Mikey, that’s the dumbest shit I have ever heard you say. And as your big brother, I have heard you say a lot of dumb shit. But, you two were made for each other. She’s your ‘person’. Also, we already claimed her as family so if someone else wants to take her away from you, they’ll have to deal with us.” Evan gives a sympathetic smile and puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Alright! I’ve got this. Just gotta get dressed and then get married to the love of my life, easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Mike takes a deep breath and steps into the bedroom to get dressed. 

Walter and Evan give each other a look and burst out laughing.

Danette, Hope, and Cherie are dressed and sitting and waiting for Dimples. She exits the bathroom and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Ok, I think I have my nerves under control now.” 

“Trust me, I bet Mikey is over there just as nervous as you are, if not more.” Danette walks over and pats her cheek, “Sy told me he had to take a shot before our wedding. Our first kiss as husband and wife tasted like whiskey.”

“Yeah, Evan was doing jumping jacks and push-ups to help with his nerves. He was sweating underneath his tux and was exhausted standing up at the altar. It was hilarious.” Hope chimes in.

“I’m only 10 so I don’t even know who I’m marrying yet. But they better be a nervous wreck too.” Cherie piped up, refusing to be left out.

The women all shared a laugh. Dimples walks over to where her dress hangs and runs a hand over the detailed floral embellishment. 

“Alright, let’s get this thing on and get this show started!” She claps her hands together and the women work together to get her dressed.

“Allow me to introduce the bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Michael August Marshall.” The words of the wedding planner boom through the reception hall as Mikey and Dimples walk in holding hands to the applause of their friends and family.

Their first dance goes off without a hitch. The voices of Daryl Hall & John Oates bounce off the walls as ‘You Make My Dreams (Come True)’ plays. The new couple twirls and bops across the dance floor to the beat of the song. As the crowd claps for the happy couple, they make it to their table and are served their dinner.

During dinner, toasts are made. Walter speaks of his son humorously and his new daughter-in-law lovingly. Sy recounts how Mike told him he was going to propose moments before it happened and how he loved being a part of their special day. Evan regales the audience about how Mike told him he would marry a Princess one day and how he was right about that. Erika talks about how she was there for their first date and how she loves that she got to be there to see them tie the knot. But it was Grandpa Gus who brought the house down.

“...So there I am, just about to lay all my cards on the table with Dimples and this little whippersnapper comes in and proposes to her! I had her in the palm of my hands, ya hear me? In moments, she could’ve been MY wife,” The crowd laughs heartily and Gus twirls the end of his mustache, “But I’d do anything for my grandson, including letting him have the pretty girl. But, the moment he slips up, I’ll be right here for ya, Dimples. Congratulations. I love you both!” Gus raises his champagne glass and the room cheers for the happy couple.

Shortly after toasts, the newlyweds cut their cake. Mike “accidentally” gets some cake frosting on Dimples’ cleavage. He licks it off of her in front of all his family and at the shock of Dimples who swats him away at first and then resigns to her fate in a fit of giggles.

While the guests go back to dancing to the mix that the DJ set up, Dimples sits in Mike’s lap as they talk quietly. Occasionally, a family member will come and talk to them for a bit before offering an envelope or just a handful of cash. By the end of the night, they are stuffing it into Dimples’ purse. What a problem to have!

They thank their guests for coming and hug their family. Exiting the hall, they get into the rented pearl-colored Rolls Royce Phantom. It is packed to the max with gifts and luggage for their honeymoon in the mountains. Waving to their family, they drive off into the night.

For most of the trip, Dimples is sick with what she thinks is stomach flu. Mike drives into town and picks up chicken soup, Gatorade, crackers, and ginger ale. He wanders the store’s aisles for a while looking for something else to cheer her up. He ends up in the Family Planning aisle and tries to think if this isn’t just her period on the way.

That’s when it hits him and he picks up the box and puts it in the basket before going to check out. Arriving back at the cabin, he shows Dimples the box and her eyes widen and he can see her doing mental math.

Sitting in the bathroom, they sit in front of the sink and wait for the timer to go off. When it does, they both jump. She reaches up to the sink for the test and holds it to her chest. Mike waits for her to pull it away and look at it but she is frozen.

“On three?” He suggests and she nods, “One…two…three.”

She looks down at the test in her hands and reads the word in the result window. “Pregnant,” She looks over to Mike and shows it to him, “Mikey, I’m pregnant.”

He takes the test and reads it over and over before saying, “It’s a good thing that I’m sitting down because I think I’m gonna–” His words stop and he slumps against the sinks and slides down the floor, having fainted.

Chapter 4

A/N: The song of the chapter is You Make My Dreams (Come True) by Daryl Hall & John Oates. I love Hall & Oates so much. And this was just too cute of a song not to include it.

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[castletown-cafe]

Been a month, hasn’t it? How’s the new year treating everybody so far?

I have plans to return to Castletown Café again. The reason things slowed was because weekly was overwhelming, which I learned over the summer, and even biweekly was a lot to keep up with, especially with food or drinks I never made before and needed time to experiment with. Once fall came I had to put it on the backburner, especially as I focus heavily on my main work, art, for spooky season all through the holiday season.

Those times of the year are out of the way, so it’s time to focus again on re-creating food from or inspired by Deltarune, and experimenting with ideas, and practicing things like bread or candy. (Candy is REALLY hard to make at home by the way - I swear I need a laboratory, professional equipment, and a well-experienced candy-maker to teach me the ways).

That’s not all though. I want to try another new thing this year: live gaming. Our current era of the internet is video-dominated - mainly by Tiktok. So much so that Instagram is favoring and pushing reels over images in order to compete, forcing artists like myself to have to make art posts into Tiktok-style reels (Thanks Tiktok, you ruined Instagram).

The reason I want to try live gaming is so that way I can use new mediums to create content and to engage with people in a new way. It can be fun watching people play a game, and I’ll enjoy the company as I search for that shiny Pokémon or build new islands and create another form of art in the virtual world.

I’m gonna be real, I’m pretty nervous about trying this new venture because I know technology has never been all that fond of me. Even after following the instructions to a T and doing everything right, something will still go wrong (either because the instructions/help overlook or don’t account for the tiny details that get in the way and I need every last little detail considered, or because the instructions are outdated). My frustration tolerance will be put to the test. Also, I’m not sure how my laptop will handle live gaming - having OBS and my Elgato capture card software gets it really hot, and in the past, doing live art streams also really heated it up! I got a brand new desk with cooling fans for it, so I’ll see if it can handle going live while streaming gameplay footage from my Switch. It’s all I have right now, unfortunately. I know a lot of streamers use two monitors, so I may need a dual-monitor PC. But we all have to start somewhere!

I know these announcements/updates are almost a month late. I’m just kinda worried I won’t ever actually act on or start these things. I’m tired of wanting to do something or getting an idea for something and then never actually getting to it because of anxiety or other interests/other things taking my attention. I seriously don’t understand what “apply yourself” even means….I don’t speak neurotypical I guess 😅 but I know that ADHD brain and anxiety brain are a big obstacle. I want to finally deliver on the ideas I want to do. And the things I mention or talk about making. Starting, or going back to it, is the hardest part.

If you have read all this, thanks! This was a really long post. I know there’s not a lot of people who’ll see this, but if you’re one of them, thank you for finding this. Any support, even if it’s just from one person, is greatly appreciated.

I hope to continue making content for this blog as well as venturing to new mediums this coming year.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[lillywillow]

For Heart or For Country

Summary: “You’re in line to be the next ruler of your kingdom. But first, you must marry the young ruler of your worst enemy. Would you risk all of your happiness for the sake of stopping a war? Or will you find true love in the town’s pub?”

 Word Count: 3089

 Pairings: Natasha x gender neutral Reader/ gender neutral Loki X Reader (arranged)

 Warnings: Seductive Nat, arranged marriage

Written for @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s writing challenge. Go check out her amazing works!

From the moment you were born, you were destined to take over from your father. You spent countless hours in lessons learning how to be ruler of the kingdom, been taught everything from politics to art, sword fighting to etiquette. Long story short, everything you needed to take the throne and face the challenges that came with wearing the crown.

 For years, the kingdom had been at war but recently there was at last a chance for peace but it came with a cost... an arranged marriage. You weren’t so sure about it but if it meant your people being safe, you would sacrifice your own happiness.

 Ever since your father had made the announcement of your impending wedding, it had consumed your every thought. You hadn’t even met your betrothed and, yet, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with them. You had watched the older servants with their spouses and to be honest with yourself it melted your heart. Even your father was a kind and gentle person when it came to your mother. With any luck, the person you were going to marry would be kind to you.

 Deciding you needed a distraction; you put on a disguise and managed to sneak out of the palace. Sure you could have gotten drunk in your room but where was the fun in that? You had crept out on a few occasions so you knew that the townsfolk knew how to party compared to those stuffy nobles.

From the moment you stepped inside the tavern named The Nest, the atmosphere was abuzz with excitement. The walls were decorated with purple fabric hangings, crossbows, longbows, arrows and other archery items. A taxidermy hawk was perched above the door, its eyes ever watching. A one eyed dog ran about the patrons, getting pats from some of them and cleaning up pieces of dropped food. People were dancing, singing and drinking, some leaning on each other for support as they swayed. To any other noble, the scene may have looked chaotic but to you, it only looked like fun.

 With a grin, you made your way over to the bar and took a seat. Still taking in your surroundings, you barely noticed when the sandy haired bartender stood in front of you.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Oh! Um...” You tried to think of something that would not give away your identity as a noble. The man raised an eyebrow at you.

 “Hey, Clint! Two boilermakers over here,” another patron called.

 The man whom you now know as Clint poured them the drinks and turned back to you.

 “So?”

 “I’ll have... o-one of those,” you said, making a feeble attempt to pound your fist on the counter in an attempt to fit in.

 Clint tilted his head and gave you a curious look.

 “Alright...”

 Clint made the boilermaker and placed it in front of you. Thanking him, you took a swig of the drink and felt instant misgivings about it as the alcohol burned not only your throat but your ears and the very pit of your stomach. Clint laughed as you coughed and spluttered.

 “You’re not from around here, are you?”

 “You... might say that,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth.

 “You picked the right night to come. Nat’s doing a show.”

 “Nat?”

 “Wow, you really aren’t from around here if you don’t know Natasha. Just watch,” he advised, nodding his head over to the stage.

 The stage was well lit and crowed around the edges by men and women who were eagerly waiting for whoever was about to appear from behind the purple curtains.

 Music began and a foot decorated with a silver anklet emerged. The audience cheered loudly as the woman behind her curtain slowly began to reveal herself. She wore a black piece of fabric around her upper body, twisted just a little in the centre of her chest. The bottom of her costume was made up of a red fabric front and back which started out solid but faded to transparent as it went down and held together by delicate chains. Silver cuffs adorned her upper arms and wrists. Her lips were painted sinfully crimson. Sparkly onyx hairpins held her red curls in place. She was absolutely stunning.

 The woman slowly began to sway her hips to the music, arms and feet poised. It was almost hypnotic in the way she moved. As the beat picked up, so did her dancing. One of the men near the front of the stage started to get a little carried away and tried to climb up.

 Fearing for the safety of the dancer, you tensed and shifted to help her but Clint placed a hand on your shoulder.

 “Easy. Nat can handle herself around these drunk idiots.”

 You watched as Nat placed her foot on the man’s cheek before kicking him off the stage. The crowd jeered and laughed at the man, some pouring their drinks on him. Despite the interruption, Nat continued her performance.

 Her face was calm and collected, never faltering, as the audience got more and more rowdy.

 Nat ended her performance by kneeling and giving a graceful bow. The throng of people got even more riled up as she headed back behind the curtain and before you knew it, a fight broke out. You could only sit on your barstool and laugh as the place erupted into bedlam. As a noble, the most you had ever witnessed people scuffle as a heated argument that never went beyond words and even then they never used the language you heard flying around the room. Sure, there was the battlefield but once again that was an entirely different situation.

 However, your humour was soon cut short as the royal guards walked in to break up the fight. You felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

 “You hiding from those guys?” Clint asked, not even fazed by the mayhem around him.

 “S-sorta...”

 Clint jumped over the bar and prompted you to follow him. You weren’t entirely sure what made you decide to trust a total stranger nonetheless, you followed his lead. As he walked along, he dodged all fists, tankards and bottles that flew his way. You did your best but still caught the occasional projectile to your body, taking great care not to let any hit your face lest there be questions tomorrow.

 He stopped to look around before opening a panel in the back wall, just big enough for you to squeeze out.

 “Follow the tunnel until the end. That’ll take you to the backstreets. Be fast. The guards will start patrolling the minute they break things up here. Just make sure you close the exit on the other side.” With that, Clint pushed you through the gap and closed the panel behind you.

 Just as he said, you followed the tunnel until the end, closing the door behind you and made your way through the backstreets until you had made it all the way home, fortunately without incident.

 As you got ready for bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Nat. She was just so beautiful... Could this be just a crush? You had to know for certain.

...

 The following night, you once again crept out of the palace and back to The Nest and sat at the bar. The place was busy but nowhere near as packed as it was last night.

 “I see the guards failed to catch you,” Clint commented, making his way over to you.

 “Yeah... um... is Nat dancing again tonight by any chance?”

 Clint gave you a sly look.

 “She’s not dancing but she is working. Hey, Nat!”

 Your heart began to race as the red head walked over to you. Tonight she was wearing a black, off-the-shoulder dress with a red belt around her waist. Even outside of her dancing costume she was beautiful.

 “What?”

 “This is the one I was telling you about.”

 You felt panic seize in your chest. They were talking about you? What in the world could they have possibly been saying? Nat looked you up and down, carefully examining you before glancing over at Clint who gave an approving nod.

 “Let’s dance...”

 Before you could protest, Nat grabbed your hand and dragged you onto the dance floor. It was no surprise to you that she was just as graceful on her feet as she had been on stage. As you danced with her, you could feel her brushing her hands over your hips and waist. You found yourself surrendering to her touch. At the end of the song, Nat wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pressed her lips to your ear.

 “Tell me... what is a noble doing in a place like this?”

 You completely froze.

 “Wh-what makes you think...?”

 “Everything. From the way you dance, to your posture and your speech. So, answer my question.”

 “Is... is there somewhere private we can talk?”

 Nat lead you to the backroom after checking the coast was clear.

 “Now talk...”

 With a sigh, you removed your hood, showing her your face.

 “The heir to the throne,” she whispered reverently.

 You put your hood back on and looked down.

 “You should get out of here. Folks in these parts don’t take kindly to nobles, especially members of the royal family. What are you doing here anyway?”

 “I... I wanted to experience as much freedom as I could before I get married...”

 “So one last fling before finally settling down. How sweet.” Her voice positively dripped venom as she spoke.

 “It’s not like that!”

 “Then tell me what it is like...”

 With a sigh, you looked out the tiny window on the back wall that let in a sliver of moonlight.

 “Ever since I was young, I dreamed of having a perfect wedding with the perfect person I would spend the rest of my life with... but with this war, I’m to marry one of the children of the opposing kingdom as a token of peace... I don’t know what kind of person they are. If they’re good, maybe we could work together to fix some of the broken parts of the city and of course, I would help in their kingdom too but if they’re not a good person, well...”

 Nat was quiet for a few moments before finally speaking.

 “I really hate it when Clint is right,” she sighed.

 You turned to look at her.

 “Clint?”

 “You see, Clint has this innate sense of finding the good in people and helping them out. He helped me a few years back...”

 You held her hand, encouraging her to continue.

 “I was in a really bad place... did some really bad things... Clint helped me get out of it. Got me a job, a home... even made me partner. I owe a lot to him...”

 You couldn’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy for the man even though you knew it was completely irrational.

 “So you and he are...?”

 Nat shook her head.

 “We tried it once but it didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends.”

 You couldn’t help but feel a tiny sense of relief.

 “I would like to get to know you better... for however I have until my impending marriage. That is if you’ll let me.”

 “What about after?”

 “I’ll try and see you if I can... and if not; you can be my one who got away.”

 “That was... really cheesy,” she laughed.

 “I guess it was... but what do you say?”

 “On one condition; don’t make any promises you can’t or don’t intend to keep. I’ve been through enough of that in my lifetime.”

 “It’s a deal.”

...

 Over the next few weeks, you got to know Nat quite well. You knew everything about her and she knew everything about you and not just as future sovereign but as a person. Eventually the time came when the feuding royal family came to your kingdom, bringing with them your spouse to be.

 They introduced you to the youngest member of the family named Loki. Loki was about your age and attractive enough but in the short time you spent with Natasha, your heart purely belonged to her. Your respective fathers left you alone to bond, catching daggers in their backs from the glares from both you and Loki as they left.

 “They certainly can be civil when they want to be,” Loki sneered.

 “You got that right...”

 “You don’t really want to be married to me do you?”

 You thought carefully about how to answer.

 “I don’t even know you... but how else can we stop this war?”

 “I have been doing research on my end. If we can pool our resources, perhaps we can find how it began and how we can stop it. Shall we?”

 Loki offered a slender hand which you took.

 “We shall.”

...

 In the time leading up to your wedding, you and Loki spent every minute of the day together. To anyone else, it looked like a couple bonding and getting to know each other before your upcoming nuptials. To you and Loki, it was a mission; one to find out the truth and put an end to the war.

 Your nights were spent with Nat, talking about Loki and what else you could do to stop the fighting. There was one night you had crept in after seeing Nat and Loki had caught you and you thought for sure you were done for but instead, Loki covered for you. Loki was fully supportive of your relationship with Natasha and encouraged you to pursue her once this whole thing had blown over.

 Eventually it came time when your wedding was fast approaching. The night before the big event, you were of course with Natasha, wanting to spend as long as you could with each other before whatever happened tomorrow.

 “I promise you Nat, we will be together...”

 Nat teared up and shook her head.

 “Remember the deal you made, Y/N. You said you wouldn’t make promises you couldn’t keep...”

 “But I intend to keep this one...”

 “Just go!”

 Nat turned away so you couldn’t see her cry. You gently turned her back to you and kissed her softly. She kissed back, holding you tight as if she didn’t want to let you go. Eventually you had to break for air.

 “If... if this really is our last night together... then let’s make a memory that will last a lifetime...”

 With that, you kissed her again, this time with all the love and passion you could muster. It may have seemed scandalous to spend the night before your wedding with another but you wouldn’t give Nat away for the world.

...

 The following morning, you and Loki had set your plan into motion. The wedding started out like any other with guests arriving and people all taking their places. Your heart was hammering against your ribs and blood roared in your ears as the ceremony began. Loki remained calm and collected, keeping cool until the right moment.

 “If anyone has any objections as to why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 “We object,” both you and Loki said in unison. The whole room erupted into shock. Instantly, both Odin and your father rounded on the pair of you, absolutely seething.

 “Silence!” Loki snarled. The room fell quiet.

 “Now, the whole point of this wedding was to stop this ridiculous war. A war that was started over a futile reason...”

 Both you and Loki went to where you had hidden two ancient artefacts; one from your history and one from Asgard’s.

 “Many years ago, our kingdom was accused of taking this,” you said, holding the item up high.

 “But they were wrong. We had our own the whole time,” Loki stated, holding up the other.

 “Our two kingdoms went to war when they should have been joining forces as we were once centuries ago...”

 The pair of you combined the two items to show they fitted perfectly together.

 “We should be united once more. Let us put a stop to the fighting once and for all!”

 The gathering all cheered and rejoiced at the prospect of peace. Your fathers sat there sullenly while their wives attempted to gently comfort them. Loki gently turned to you.

 “Isn’t there someone you want to see?”

 With Loki’s blessing, you ran out of the church.

...

 Nat had been drowning her sorrows at The Nest. She had known this day was long coming but it didn’t stop the ache she felt in her heart from losing you to another. Clint did his best to try and comfort her but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t even look up when her name was called but eventually Clint did catch her attention.

 “What?!” she hissed. Clint pointed behind her to where you were standing still in your wedding clothes.

 “Y/N? What are you-” You cut her off with a kiss.

 “Loki and I did it. We were able to restore peace and we didn’t even have to get married. We can be together now...”

 “But I’m just a common barmaid. You’re going to take over the throne...”

 “And when I do, I can make whatever rule I want and marry whoever I want. I want to marry you one day Natasha... that is if you’ll have me...”

 “I...” Nat looked over to Clint who smiled and nodded. “Yes...”

...

 Over the next few weeks, you worked in tandem with Nat to fix the rough parts of the city, just as you had told her. There was a lot of gossip surrounding your relationship but neither of you cared. You had also made a point to stay in touch with Loki to find out how things were going in Asgard.

 After so many years of war, it was nice to finally see some happiness. Maybe in time, there would be a royal wedding after all. A real one out of love that was formed between two hearts that truly cared for one another.

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

if anyone has seen maid-sama, Lumine and Childe sometimes reminded me of Misaki and Usui so i had to write it hehe :3 if you haven’t seen it, i highly suggest it, its a very cute anime and if you like chilumi, you’ll definitely like the main couple in it! its on netflix! :D

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1)

“Childe, for the last time, earrings are against the school uniform code,” Lumine said to him, eyes narrowing at the red jewelry dangling from his ear. He may have towered over her, but she was the student council president—she had to enforce the rules no matter what. 

Childe tilted his head, fingers grazing over his earring. “A tiny thing like this? Surely you can let me off the hook, Madame President?” 

“No exceptions. Remove it now or I will forcibly confiscate it from you.” 

He scoffed, turning away. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lumine clenched her jaw, watching his back retreat down the hallway. Oh, she could easily take it from him. But this wasn’t the place to use brute force. As much as he boiled her blood, she wouldn’t dare reveal her secret here. 

Childe, the school’s number one troublemaker: always getting into fights, never listening to authorities, doing whatever he pleased. And the worst part? He always got away with it. 

The girls of the school fawned over his good looks, the boys envied his strength, and the elders fell victim to his charisma. 

Not Lumine though. She refused to be influenced by him. Maybe that’s why he always seemed so annoyed by her. Good. 

She ripped out a page of her student council notebook, scribbling out Childe’s name and dress code violation, pocketing it to turn in later. 

She practically stomped her way into the student council room, earning a glance from the Vice President—her twin brother Aether. 

“Childe?” he asked, going back to typing on his laptop. 

Lumine slumped in her chair. “Yes,” she nearly growled. “How did you know?”

“Because he always puts you in the worst of moods,” her brother answered. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place.”

“And get kicked out of school for murder? No thank you; I’m not ruining an absolutely clean record for the likes of someone like Childe.” She flipped through her notebook, seeing all her citations on said troublemaker. “Soon enough, that boy is going to get expelled, mark my words.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the student council reporter—a student named Bennett—dashed in, holding the side of his face.

“Madame President!” he announced. “There’s a fight breaking out in the hallway!”

Both Aether and Lumine stood. “What happened to your face, Bennett?” Aether asked. 

The reporter let out a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, tried to break up the fight but ended up getting punched in the face.”

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse,” Aether said, walking Bennett out the door. 

Lumine quickly walked out after them, hearing the commotion down the hallway. As she turned the corner, there was a crowd of students circled around the tussle. 

“Out of the way!” Lumine shouted. 

At the sound of her voice, many students scattered back to their classrooms, leaving only the perpetrators still fighting: a short boy with cropped blue hair and—Childe.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Break. It. Up! Or it’s suspension for the both of you!” 

The short boy gave Childe a harsh shove, adjusting his odd cap with tassels on the sides. “You don’t have to fight me every time you see me, you brute,” the boy hissed. 

Childe laughed. “C’mon, Scaramouche, don’t be like that,” the ginger said. “We were just having some fun, Madame President; no need to make a big fuss out of it.” 

Lumine glared at him. “Why are you always at the center of trouble?” 

Childe shrugged. “Life’s too boring.” 

Taking out her notebook, she scoffed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more boring for you. Detention. After school. Both of you.” 

“It was just some play fighting between friends, Pres,” Childe insisted. “Don’t be so stuck-up.” 

“Not play fighting when one of my council members gets hit in the face,” she retorted angrily. 

“Can I at least be let off the hook?” Scaramouche interjected. “He was the one who attacked me.” 

The blonde sighed. “Fine. This was your first offense anyways.” 

“Today’s his first day after all,” Childe supplied. 

“It’s his first day and you welcomed him by attacking him?” Lumine asked, crossing her arms. 

He smiled. “What can I say? We know each other.” 

I want to punch that smile off his face. “Scaramouche, go back to class. Childe, you’re coming with me to in-school suspension.” 

Scaramouche muttered something under his breath and walked away, while Childe cheerfully waved goodbye to him. 

Lumine started walking down the other way, towards the ISS room, Childe’s footsteps falling in behind her. Most of the way was done in silence. Until—

“Say, Pres, why are you so stuck-up?” Childe asked. 

Lumine grit her teeth. “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not stuck-up, and maybe you’re just a troublemaker?” 

“Hey, at least I make your life a little more interesting, don’t I?”

“Not interesting. So much more unbearable.” 

“Maybe you should loosen up. Being like this won’t make you many friends.” 

“And fighting people will?” 

“Fighting is fun. You’re telling me you’ve never watched a fight and found it entertaining?”

Lumine stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You only do it when something’s seriously on the line. Not for fun.” 

“Uh-uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice said. 

Lumine turned to find a girl, she looked young, probably a freshman, clutching a card. “Can I help you?” the president asked.

“A-actually,” the girl responded, “can I t-talk to Ch-Childe? A-Alone?” 

The blonde glanced at Childe, who shrugged back at her. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Yes, go ahead.” She was doing this for the girl. Not Childe. 

She walked ahead and turned the corner until she was out of sight and unable to hear. After a minute or so, the freshman girl ran past her, hysterically crying. Brows furrowed, she went back to Childe. 

“So, where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly. 

Asshole. “What the hell did you do to her?” Lumine asked. “Do I really need to write you up again?”  

“What? All I did was reject her confession.”

A glare at him. “Be nicer. Don’t make girls cry.” She continued walking. 

“Or maybe she should just be stronger.” 

“Don’t you dare insult a girl’s strength in front of me.” 

“I’m not insulting the strength of a woman. I’m just saying people in general could do better if only they were stronger.” His strides quickened, and soon he was in front of her. He flicked the earring dangling from his ear. “For instance, if you had the strength, you could easily rip this from my ear, and you could stop stacking up those useless dress code citations for me.” 

Lumine had to clench her teeth to stop herself from murdering him on the spot. “I’m your student council president. I don’t solve things through violence. Which is why you and I are different.” Lie, her gut hissed. 

She stopped, throwing open the door to her left, gesturing into the room. “You’ll spend the rest of the school day here.” She turned in, looking at the teacher. “Mr. Diluc, you have a student here for in-school suspension for the rest of the day.” 

Mr. Diluc glanced up from his book, expressionless. “Childe. Back so soon?” 

Childe sauntered in, taking a seat. “You know our Pres. Always working on cleaning up the school from scum like me.” 

“Good for her,” Diluc said. “Thank you, Lumine.”

Lumine nodded and closed the door behind her. Finally.

At least Childe wouldn’t be causing anymore trouble today. 

* * *

Lumine shivered as the chilling locker room hit her bare skin. Shedding her hoodie, she donned a simple black sports tank top and shorts. 

“Are they ever going to get heaters for these locker rooms?” she muttered. 

“It’s an underground fighting ring,” Aether said, “You think they can afford state-of-the-art locker rooms?” He tossed her a roll of hand wraps. 

She caught it, unraveling it, and started to wrap them around her knuckles. “You’re right. As long as they pay me, I shouldn’t be complaining.” 

Aether nodded, taking her gloves out from her gym bag. “Are you ever going to tell Mom how you get all this cash?”

“Never. She’d probably die of a heart attack.” 

“And your injuries?” 

“I try not to get any,” she said with a smirk. “If I do, then, hey, the restaurant business can be dangerous...and I can be clumsy.” 

And that was her big secret. 

In the night, Lumine was a top tier fighter in Teyvat’s underground fighting ring. She was known as “The Outlander.” 

After their father had walked out on them years ago, Lumine, Aether, and their mother were left with a huge amount of his debt to pay off. Their mother took on two jobs to support them, leaving her exhausted, sickly, and barely home. Lumine and Aether couldn’t find decent paying jobs at their age, so Lumine took matters into her own hands. 

Through her tenacity, she trained hard and started showing up to the underground fights, learning her way through the system, and eventually began fighting herself. Sure, it was illegal due to the violence and betting system, but it made good money—fast. Enough money to support their family, pay off the debt, and save some aside for her and Aether’s future.

Aether of course still worked as a cashier at a local grocery store (next to the restaurant Lumine claimed she worked at); Lumine would never let her dear brother participate in her line of work. He was only allowed to come along to cheer her on.   

She was also good at it. After some training, her instructors all praised her natural fighting instincts. In a matter of months, she had become one of the top fighters in her area. 

It was out of necessity. They needed the money. 

Of course, no one knew who she really was. She always fought with a mask on—she couldn’t let her identity be compromised. A high school student beating up all these grown adults? A chance she could be recognized and reported to authorities? No. Way. Plus, people liked the mysterious Outlander figure. Might as well milk it. 

The cheers above her swelled, and Lumine did her final stretches and prepped to go out on stage. 

“You ready to fight tonight?” Aether asked. 

Lumine slipped her mask on. “Always.” 

She made her way up the staircase, and the buzzing crowd grew louder and louder, until she entered the arena, and the cheers became deafening. 

The arena was probably around the size of her school gym, maybe smaller, but packed to the brim with cheering fans and a boxing cage in the middle. 

She made her way up to the cage, chants of “Outlander” swirling around her, and took her walk around the area, getting a feel for the night. Eventually, her mind blurred out the crowd, focusing on becoming in tune with her body. 

Tonight, her opponent was another member of the Hilichurl gang: a gang notorious for entering lots of members into these types of fights, even if they weren’t good, as a way to try and earn any kind of money for their gang. It was an easy win. Lumine barely got hit. (The Hilichurl on the other hand ended the night sobbing his heart out on stage. Lumine felt kind of bad. Kind of.)

Soon enough, she and Aether were on their way home with a fresh wad of cash in their bag, practically skipping their way past the dim street lights. As they made their way towards their bus home, Lumine rifled through her bag, realizing she had left one of her textbooks in the locker room from when she had been studying before the fight. 

She cursed. Now she had to go all the way back to the arena. “Aether, you need to get home—the next bus won’t be here for another hour.” 

“Lumine, I am not leaving you alone in this sketchy part of town.” 

“And you have to be there when Mom gets back, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.” Lumine was already turning around. “Tell her I had to stay behind at the restaurant to help clean up.” 

Her brother pursed his lips. 

“Aether. I’ll be fine. Did you seriously forget what I did to get that stack of cash?” she reassured. 

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He hugged his sister. “Still. Be careful, please.” 

She held up her fist which was still wrapped in the fighter’s tape. “Of course. See you back home.” 

With that, the twins went separate ways. 

Now maskless, Lumine went the back ways to the arena, entering through a side door, avoiding the still rowdy crowd of spectators gathered for the late night fights. She successfully grabbed her textbook, and walked back out the side door. Straight into somebody. 

Shit. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, keeping her head down, hoping they wouldn’t ask why some little high school girl was sneaking around the underground fighting arena. 

But then the person spoke. 

“Wow,” a familiar voice said. 

Lumine looked up, wide eyed. Shitshitshitshit—

“This is a surprise,” Childe said, “Madame President.”

* * *

[part 2]

[mindofharry]

Fallon Jenkins has no one left. Her family is dead, her friends no where to be found and all she has right now is her bow and arrow and the zombies that rule the night. Harry styles has been wandering around towns for days, looking for rations or new people to recruit but it’s been so long that he’s losing that optimism that got him through the first month of the apocalypse. When his bike breaks down just outside of a garage Harry sees that as fate — what he doesn’t expect is a sarcastic brunette guarding all of the tools. Will Fallon and Harry see eye to eye? Will they rule the apocalypse together?

CHAPTER ONE

☾ ☾ ☾

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS….. APOCALYPSE.

The first word that came to mind when asked about how Fallon is feeling is: bored. She feels completely and utterly, bored. She’s a creative, an artist. She doesn’t know how she’s lasted out in this world without her pens and paper, but she’s holding on. And she has to remind herself, bored is better than dead. Fallon is drained and exhausted, she hasn’t showered in two days, disgusting is another word to describe her right now.

Fallon lived a good life. She might’ve not had a lot, but she was loved. She had family, a mom and a dad. She had good, supportive friends. Fallon was going to school in New York for arts and drama. Everything was going so well, and then someone just had to become a zombie. Her parents and Fallon all lived together in a small apartment off the east coast, it was tiny and not fit for three people — but they pulled through. They worked extra shifts at the diner, did the odd baby sitting job here and there. And although it was hard sometimes, they all a ton of respect for each other and a shit load of love. Fallon loved her parents, loved her friends.

But that’s all gone now.

Every single one of them are dead or have abandoned her. Her parents were too old, too frail to fight the zombies off. Her dad was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with Fallon. Fallon had strength and determination, which had gotten her through the first month of the apocalypse. But her father and mother seemed to lose faith pretty quickly and in the end, they were too tired to keep fighting. So they surrounded.

Fallon had been out trying to find more food, or people to help and bring into their home. It was like any other day in the apocalypse really. When she arrived home, her parents were dead. They were bloody and beaten up pretty badly, her dads arm had been bitten off and the side of her mothers hip was badly bruised. But they had died holding hands, and on their own terms. Something that kept Fallon going was knowing that it wasn’t her fault, that her mother and father chose to die.

“Baby, we’re too old. We’re only putting you in more danger”

Was it selfish of her to say that she was glad? That she only had herself to worry about? It was easier this way. That’s what she likes to tell herself anyways.

Harry Styles was a writer from England, but had recently moved to America when the apocalypse started. He was sat in his spacious apartment, book in hand and tv on when the news host spewed out nonsense about a zombie and disease. Harry really thought nothing of it, another prank or false information. But then the president of the united states made an announcement and Harry knew what he had to do.

With people outside of his apartment complex fighting for cars and rations, he locked up his home. He brought his drawers to the front door and then locked himself in his small closet for three days.

Once he knew the coast was clear, Harry set out for help. He had his car, but it was probably stolen during the outbreak a couple days ago. So he walked to the storage unit he left his motorcycle in. He had recently done it up and left gas in it, thank god for that.

Harry didn’t know if his family were ok. He didn’t know if this was happening in his hometown too. But he pushed all of those feelings of worry down, and decided to look on the bright side of things.

He’s safe.

Harry has been wandering around towns for days, only going on the bike an hour at a time. He’s found good spots to sleep and hide out for a bit, and he’s got some rations that’ll last him a couple of weeks.

Fallon is currently hiding out in what she thinks is a garage, something to do with mechanics and cars. It’s warm, has tools she can defend herself with and a small office she hide out in.

It’s almost relaxing.

That is until she heard someone outside.

“Time to break out the kit” Fallon mumbled to herself moving over to the red box with all of the tools inside. She took out a wrench and a knife, her bow and arrow attached to her back sort of like a back pack. Fallon took archery back in high school, it comes in very handy nowadays. She’s not athletic per say, but she’s pretty good at the bow and arrow. She’s had to learn how to do self defence, something that’s not easy because she’s so lanky. Her father used to make fun of her because every time Fallon got up her bones would crack.

Harry sat outside of the garage cursing the bike. “Thought you’d at least give me another half hour” He mumbled standing the bike up against the wall. Harry looked around and he almost fell to ground with gratitude when he realised he was outside of a garage. He isn’t the best with fixing bikes or cars, but he has some knowledge. Harry thinks it’s just a small break he can easily replace with the right tools. He’s just praying that no one has raided this place yet.

Fallon was ready and walked outside.

She was not expecting the tall, curly haired, green eyed boy. Her heart skipped a beat looking at him, but she soon composed herself holding up the wrench.

“…Shit!” Harry yelled nearly falling into his bike. His hand came up to his chest and another to his pocket holding onto his knife.

“Stay back!” Fallon yelled moving closer to harry, he put his hands up his knife falling out of his lap.

“I come in peace. I just need to repair my bike, and i’ll be on my way”

Fallon bit her lip still holding up the wrench, she lifted her right hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She looked the man up and down again, trying to figure out if she should trust him or not. He didn’t try and attack her, he dropped his knife and from the looks of it his bike does look like it needs some repairing.

“My name is Harry Styles. I’ve lived in New York for three years. I love the notebook. I’m a writer. I have no idea how to use that knife so if you’re going to kill me just do it fast” Harry said lamely, almost like he knew she would give in.

She brought down the wrench and nodded her head.

“Fallon” She said and Harry just turned around to his bike.

“Didn’t ask” He mumbled, bringing his bike into the garage. Fallon rolled her eyes and followed the man, now known as Harry, into the garage.

“I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“I can help…”

Before Fallon could explain herself, Harry shook his head with a fake smile. “No need, Fallon. Don’t need you messing it up even more” He said tight lipped. Fallon rolled her eyes and sighed, moving away from the bike with her hands in the air. She moved away from the whole place, going back to her make shift bedroom and grabbing her knife from the red box on the way.

She wanted to stab Harry Styles so hard.

But Fallon soon realised he might be more helpful than she once thought.

After a few hours of sitting by herself, and organising her little room Fallon decided to go annoy Harry. When she had her friends, she loved being around them. She loved talking and inviting people out, she just loved being around people. Maybe Harry will be willing to talk to her for a bit, let her annoy him.

“Soo….. you’ve got an accent” Fallon said and harry wiped his forehead and looked up.

She’s trying to make conversation. Harry didn’t like that.

“Yeah”

He didn’t elaborate.

“I visited England a few years back with a friend, super cool place. We didn’t stay long, but I wanted to go back but then…” Fallon trailed off and Harry nodded leaning his hands on the table.

“And then…” She repeated and Harry sighed.

“And then this” He said.

Fallon walked over to harry and looked him up and down. “I’ll let you use all my tools, if…. you stay with me for a couple days” She said her knife digging into his stomach. Harry grunted, if he moved one muscle he would be stabbed — something he does not want. Harry grabbed her Fallon’s hand turned her around so her back was to his chest, the knife came out of his neck and Harrys lips against her ear.

“Was a threat?” He said and Fallon rolled her eyes taking the gun out of the front of her jeans, holding it against his forehead, now having the upper hand. Harry sighed to himself, this girl was exasperating but that could be useful. It’s lonely out there. It’d be nice not to have to do this alone, even if it was only for a couple days.

“I use your tools, bring us to a safe location and then we both go on our way. Deal?” Harry said putting the knife down, Fallon turned around her face close to Harrys. He had beautiful eyes. Forest green. Her favourite colour.

“Get me a place with a working shower and then we’ll have a deal” Fallon said, the gun still up against Harry’s forehead.

Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand out for a shake.

“Deal”

☾ ☾ ☾

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning” Harry said, wiping off his hands on a towel Fallon had given him. She was currently sharpening her knife, shaking her head. Who does he think he is? Fallon is obviously the leader in this situation.

“No?” Harry asked taking a seat beside her. This girl, again, was exasperating. Sarcastic, rude, a bit scary. But beautiful. She had long dark brown hair, but it was pulled into a high pony tail. The pony tail had a small braid in it, a bead on the end of it. Her lips are plump and chapped, but harry would just love to place his on hers.

Woah, get it together harry.

“You’re talking like you’re in charge here” Fallon said.

Harry glared at her, “Well, I am”

Oh hell no, Fallon thought.

“You’re in my space, Noah” Fallon said and Harry rolled his eyes so hard he fell back into the seat.

“My name isn’t Noah. See that’s why I should be the leader…..” He said standing up “Because at least I have the decency to remember your name! Which is not all that special by the way, it’s an easily forgettable name” Harry seethed, his hands on his hips. Fallon giggled to herself, putting her knife down.

“You done with this…” She trailed off, moving her hands in the air at harry. “This hissy fit?” She finished and harry only turned his head away from her as answer.

“Noah is the main characters name in the notebook. You said you liked the notebook. Didn’t forget your name Harry. Even those it’s a very forgettable name” Fallon said, standing up and softly slapping him on the shoulder.

“Get some rest, we’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, noah”

“it’s harry!”

Fallon got her supplies ready for tomorrow, and sat them beside her make shift bed. She was going to miss this place. But she knew if she was going to stay alive in this world, she had to keep moving. She had to trust people. Although she’d never admit this to his face, Harry seems to be a natural leader and she trusts him. Fallon just likes giving him a hard time. It’s fun seeing him to flustered.

Harry didn’t sleep a wink. He felt responsible for Fallon, even though the garage was heavily boarded up — he still felt like it was his job to patrol and guard it all night.

Not because he liked Fallon……

Definitely not.

“Harry…..”

Poke.

“Harry….”

Jab.

“Noah!”

Poke.

“Harry Styles!”

Punch.

“What the hell!” Harry yelled holding onto his shoulder. “You wouldn’t wake up! It’s 6 AM! Let’s get moving leader!” Fallon said tapping her foot. Harry grumbled to himself, popping open a box of gum and putting into his mouth. He didn’t even look at Fallon just handed the box to her, while he put his leather jacket back on.

He didn’t sleep much and Harry doesn’t even remember falling asleep. But it had to be only half an hour ago.

Fallon looked well rested, probably because she had a bed.

“Leader? You’re seriously letting me be in charge?” Harry questioned throwing their supplies on the back of the bike.

“Well, you seem resourceful…. and you have a motorcycle. So you be in charge i guess” Fallon shrugged.

“So just because I have a motorcycle I’m in charge?” He asked and Fallon nodded.

“Works for me.” Harry said and opened up the garage door. “Goodbye Garage. Thanks for keeping me safe.” Fallon said with a pout. Harry rolled his eyes and started the motorcycle handing her the helmet. He stole another one from the back of the garage.

“Noah and Allie take on the apocalypse?” Fallon asked placing her arms around harry.

“Yeah, whatever.”

[poodlejoonas]

Dad!BC AU - the moms

So wow-ihateithere and I (because for some reason Tumblr won’t let me directly @ you) have been tossing out so many amazing ideas for the BC dad AU lately that we’ve thought of pretty much every scenario under the sun. One idea I’d like to throw in here is the group that is the moms who make up their own personal wolfpack. Since they’ll be brought in as stand-alone characters soon, it would be better to have a basic introduction for each and how they know/interact with each other.

(Under the read-more for length)

Joel - Emilia (”Millie”) Hokka - The absolute baddest bitch you will meet on this planet. She's a 5′1″ sweetheart, but if you lay a single finger on her kid, her husband, her BC brothers and sisters, or any of her nieces and nephews, she will become the human embodiment of that one line from “Wolfpack.” You know the one. She’s gone viral before for Joel needing to hold her back from fighting the mom of a kid who’s bullying Enkka at school, and literally watching this tiny woman become a human hurricane at the drop of a hat was enough for this kid to immediately leave him alone. From then on, kids at school know not to come after Viktor Hokka because his mom doesn’t play around. Why would she? After all, she dedicated 18 months of her life to trying to become a mom, and anyone who dares to come after her baby needs a running start to get away from her.

Sometimes even Joel has to hold her back from doing something she probably should regret but wouldn’t if it involved her family. He knows better than to cross a line with her. Then there are other times when they work together to be the shadiest power couple on earth, like when Aleksi’s ex-girlfriend Laila slanders him in the media for talking about taking custody of their son from her. If Joel comes home pissed about something, she’s the first one to jump on board with whatever plan he has to get his point across. She would totally have a stan account on Instagram dedicated to her called “milliehokkasupremacy”. And Joel loves his wife so much that he would eat every bit of this shit up. When she tells someone off, he writes down what she says and turns it into the lyrics of Blind Channel’s next single.

In short, Millie Hokka is 100 percent That Bitch™.

Bonus bit because this idea made me laugh: (in the comments section of a post slandering BC) @milliehokka: Bitch you better take this shit down before I puncture your fucking tires @joelhokka: She's my better half ❤️

Joonas - Kirsten Porko - Kirsten’s one of the quiet BC moms, and a hell of a lot more tame than Millie. But she has her shining moments every now and then, like when she was wondering why Millie took Joel with her knowing that she could’ve easily beaten that bully’s mom’s ass without him. She has the patience of a saint, being married to Joonas and raising two (soon to be three) kids with him. But she adores every minute of their chaotic little family. Since Sohvi was the first of the BC kids, the guys were quick to show up in support of her and Joonas. She was also pretty lonely until the others started dating their wives, and she was more than happy to have more friends to bond with.

She does the most to mother the rest of the kids when they need it. They love to come to their house because Kirsten will have a fresh pan of cookies ready for them. They also like hanging out with Joonas, but Kirsten is a fun aunt on her own. She’s typically the first to show up when one of the other moms tosses out a cry for help in taking care of their kids, especially when they’re newborns and the guys are away on tour. Kirsten’s total aesthetic is the absolute opposite of Joonas’s: she’s bubbly and wears nothing but pastel dresses and soft fabrics. A lot of people wonder what a “nice girl” like her is doing with a punk rocker like Joonas, until you see them interact and know that they’re crazy in love with each other and their kids. She’s the unassuming type, but she loves pranks as much as her husband and kids; she’ll play along whenever there’s a really good one and sometimes she can totally outdo them.

Niko - Jenna Moilanen - Jenna is Millie’s co-conspirator and partner-in-crime. If Millie needs someone to back her up and Joel’s trying to talk her out of whatever she’s thinking about doing, Jenna is the first to show up on the scene. She’s very much Niko’s type - she has just as many tattoos as him, several piercings, and hair that changes color depending on her mood. She’s naturally a blonde but you almost never see her as one. A lot of people tend to pass judgement on her abilities as a mom based on her appearance, but both of her and Niko’s kids adore her (especially their daughter Lahja) and they grow up happy with their loving parents. She’s a fantastic cook and works as a head chef at a five-star steakhouse, and she’s always willing to come home and cook for her family as well. She and Millie are the two shortest of the group, and it’s hilarious because they are both absolute spitfires.

Jenna has the best intuition when it comes to deciding who is trustworthy and who isn’t. There’s no “leader” in the group, but most of the others trust Jenna when someone gives her a bad feeling. She would be the one to raise the alarm on Laila years before she and Aleksi ever break up, and Laila would find the absolute worst way to end up on Jenna’s shit list. In her time with the group, Laila does nothing to help take care of the rest of the kids or try to fit in with the group. One day, when Leevi cries because he needs something, Jenna spots an annoyed expression out of the corner of her eye coming from Laila. It takes an intervention from God to stop Jenna from ripping her apart on the scene. The most important thing to note about Jenna: she calls her closest friends “bitch” affectionately. The moment it stops being affectionate, there’s no turning back.

Olli - Kaarina Matela - The quietest and calmest of the BC moms. She perfectly matches her husband’s energies, which is why they parent their daughters so well. She was definitely more calm than him on the day they learned they were having twins, and still is to this day. When he was panicking about their pregnancy scare, she was still managing to stay collected somehow (but just as relieved as he was). She’s very much like a suburban soccer mom type, but far from being a Karen because she’s aggressively kind to everyone around her, including hardworking people. And Olli just adores her so much, sometimes he doubts if he even deserves her. She’s always the first to remind him that there’s no one else she would rather be with.

Kaarina is the arts and crafts kind of aunt. During the summer, she likes to have the kids come over for day camp style hangout sessions where they mix in time outside with craft activities. She’s the reason why Olli’s stage outfits have been so cool lately, because she’s got a perfect eye for colors and is super skilled at hand-stitching patches. If the kids need anything repaired, they’ll know to go to Aunt Rina first because she’ll either make it as good as new, or turn it into some sick artwork. All the moms get along but she and Kirsten vibe together the best. They get together and plan the summer activities for the kids, which involve Rina planning the crafts and Kirsten baking for, and with, them.

Tommi - Marja Lalli - Marja is unique in her position as a BC mom because she joined the group when her son Miikka from a previous relationship was already almost 4. For a brief time, she was worried about herself and Miikka feeling left out of the group dynamic that was already there, but they were so quick to invite her in as one of them. A lot of it had to do with her being friends with Jenna since elementary school, and Jenna knew that the sisterhood would be more than happy to accept her. She and Niko help set her up with Tommi because they both know he would love her and accept Miikka as his own. She’s chill and reserved, but she’s still a ton of fun to be around. Along with Kaarina and Kirsten, she’s one of the level-headed moms and is typically the voice of reason for a lot of things (especially when it comes to trying to contain Millie and Jenna’s tempers).

The rest of the moms were thrilled when she told them she was pregnant with Anna, but constantly concerned and fretting over her when she was on occasional bed rest. If Tommi couldn’t be with her, it was one of them coming over to help take care of her and Miikka. Marja’s health showed the caring side of the sisterhood of the BC moms, how they are willing to take care of each other in sickness as well as celebrating the good times and defending each other from drama. Even months after Anna is born, they still come over from time to time to see if there’s any way they can help.

Aleksi - Laila Pekkanen (later on, marries Hanna Kaunisvesi) - So this one is a bit complicated. For about three years, Aleksi was in a high-profile relationship with Laila Pekkanen, a producer who worked with him on a solo single before joining BC. They meet again a couple years later and begin a relationship that last for about three years. But it was far from loving, as they were just in general not good for each other. A few weeks after their break-up, Laila calls Aleksi while he’s in the studio to break the news to him that she’s pregnant, which sends Aleksi into total emotional turmoil because he thought they were being careful. Of all the guys, he’s the most careful with avoiding this kind of thing, but it was her who missed one too many days of her birth control. They’re barely on speaking terms, but they agree to try to stay cordial until Aleksi can take full custody of the child himself. She admits to having no maternal instinct and wants nothing to do with the baby.

Here’s where it gets messy. Aleksi finally decides to break his silence on the matter and announces via Instagram that he will be a father and raise his son on his own. He does his best to tell his side of the story without dragging Laila down. But she takes it personally and goes on the radio to try to attack Aleksi, feeling like she’s being treated like a villain and a bad person for giving up her child. She feels like she’s being “exposed” in thinking that Aleksi publicly acknowledging their son’s existence would ruin her career, because she’d been trying everything possible to cover it up. It becomes a major feud between her and her team, and Aleksi and the BC team, but more industry people can back him up as a stand-up guy than they can come to her defense. She nearly ends up having Noah prematurely, and yet Aleksi still shows up in support, more so for their son than for her. When Noah is born months later, she refuses to hold him and immediately cuts off all contact with Aleksi. 

Aleksi raises Noah alone and learns to support his son when he’s later diagnosed on the autism spectrum. Noah is semi-verbal and partially communicates with sign language. He uses sign in situations when he meets a stranger, and Aleksi respects his intuition when someone makes him uncomfortable. Noah has separation anxiety from losing his mom at a young age, so Aleksi refuses to date for years because he doesn’t want to bring a revolving door of strangers around him. But then he meets Hanna, who makes an almost instant connection with him. He’s hesitant to make a decision about a long-term relationship with her until he sees how well she works with Noah. She’s one of the first people he opens up to - mostly because of her experience as a child psychologist - but the moment that seals the deal is when Noah calls her “mom” for the first time (in sign to his cousins). Fans and people he works with can’t help but notice that Aleksi is so much happier with Hanna than Laila. And as much as he would like to have a baby with her, he’s happy having Noah and wants to invest his energy into ensuring his happiness. But Hanna understands, because she’s an angel and only wants the best for her family.

[twiceinadream]

“Anon.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Tzuyu is the popular girl who everyone wants to either be or date, Y/N is the quiet loner with only a handful of friends. In everyone's eyes, Tzuyu is the perfect girl who's always happy, but one day Y/N catches Tzuyu breaking down and crying in secret. Since then, she has been anonymously leaving notes in Tzuyu's locker. Among all her secret admirer letters, Tzuyu finds the notes with positive words and goes on a search for the sender [High School AU]

a/u: Hey, everyone! So I have to admit, my bad. I’m sorry for hyping this up and doing absolutely nothing for like 2 months, but I’m so happy that I finally got it done and I hope you all love it. I love you guys and thank you so much for all the support. Also, thank you so much for 2.3k+ followers, that’s insane!

Category: Fluff and Angst

Word Count: 2.9k

You frowned down at your notes as a soft breeze blew in from the open window next to you, the pages of your notebook fluttering in the wind as you placed a hand on top of them to prevent them from blowing as you sat back in your chair. Your teacher’s voice seemed like a monotonous drone that filled the classroom’s silence as he continued talking about the effects of the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment movement and how it changed the world’s thinking of space and the world they lived in, but in all honesty in this moment in time you could honestly care less about what he was saying. Your mind was already too preoccupied with the most popular girl in all of JYP Academy, Chou Tzuyu. Your eyes had left your notes long ago as you couldn’t help but stare, she was so effortlessly beautiful that it was almost infuriating. If you didn’t know any better you could say she was perfect.

She had everything any high school student could ever hope for. She’s beautiful, popular, rich, and oh so perfect. If time would allow you, you probably wouldn’t stop thinking about her at all. But, just as you were about to dive deeper into thought a sudden shrill ring of a bell pulled you out of your thoughts as you blinked, shaking your head as you realized class had ended. You sighed as you closed your notebook and reached for your backpack, stuffing your things inside as you stood from your seat but before anyone could leave your teacher suddenly announced, “Remember, we have a test on this chapter next week! And it’s the last one before the end of the quarter so this will severely make or break your grades!” A loud chorus of groans followed as all the students began filing out of class and out to lunch.

You shook your head as you threw your bag onto your shoulder, ‘Shit.’

-

You breathed out a sigh of relief as you got out of the class, dodging the flow of students heading out of the school halls towards the cafeteria as you made your way to the back of the academy, where the art building was housed. Set on retrieving your friends so they wouldn’t miss lunch and beg you for food later.

The walk there was surprisingly peaceful as you used most of the time lost in thought, your mind filled with images of Chou Tzuyu and history. The halls toward the back buildings were much quieter, save for the sound of a piano being played in one of the practice rooms. A smile growing on your face as you followed your ear towards the music, stopping in front of the open door that housed the source of the sound.

Your eyes landed on the brunette playing, then drifted to the silver-haired fox next to her as their heads both swayed to the rhythm of the song. A small chuckle left you as you knocked on the open door, “Knock, knock.” The interruption does its job and the music stops as Chaeyoung and Dahyun turn to face you, smiles growing on their faces as they get up from the piano to hug you.

“Y/N! Finally!” Chaeyoung says happily as she punches you lightly in the shoulder, “I was starting to think you forgot about us back here.”

You laugh as you lean into her, “What? Never. Classes just ran late since we have finals next week.

Dahyun groaned as she threw an arm over her eyes dramatically, “Don’t remind me, I hate this time of year.” You shake your head as a giddy smile takes over your features.

“But, hey, it’s Friday! Wanna go to, Cup of TT, after school. My treat?” Both Chae and Dahyun nod enthusiastically.

“Sounds good, but you’re paying. No take backs.” The brunette says with a playful smile as you wave her off.

“I know, I know. I’m not gonna come up short, unlike some people.” You raised an eyebrow that was directed to Chaeyoung as you dodged her about to tackle you.

“I swear to all things holy if you make one more short joke.” The tiny tiger seethed as you and Dahyun laughed, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you from down there.” You smile as you start running down the hallway, your’s and Dahyun’s laughter filling the halls as Chaeyoung chases after the both of you.

-Finals Day-

The crisp spring air did nothing to relieve the pounding you felt in your mind as you rested your head in your hand, flipping through your notes about world history as you could faintly hear Chaeyoung explaining something about a mountain painting she had seen at an art exhibit recently as Dahyun listened. Her attention fully on the shorter blonde as you absently flipped through every page, trying to cram any last minute information you could before the final next period. But, to be fair, not paying attention in class wasn’t your fault.

How could they expect anyone to focus when Chou Tzuyu was in their midsts?

But your brief study of about three months of work had come to an end with the sound of a shrill bell, signaling the start of your history period.

“Alright, good luck Y/N! Hwaiting!” Dahyun smiled as she squeezed your shoulder.

“Good luck, and don’t get distracted!” Chaeyoung winked as she moved just in time to avoid your reach, cackling as you were left in your classroom. Watching your classmates file in as you let out a breath.

‘I can do this.’

-1 Week Later-

Your stomach has been in knots for the past week as you waited for your teacher to post the grades of the final. Making silent prayers to whatever divine being that heard you as you held your breath waiting for the teacher to post the paper on the bulletin. The lack of air in your lungs makes you dizzy as you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Your heart raced as your teacher opened the door to his classroom, regarding his anxious students with a quick look over as he kept his body in front of the board. Taking his sweet time to staple the papers to the corkboard to prolong his students anticipation before finally taking pity on their bated breaths as he finally moved.

Barely dodging the stampede of students that nearly trampled him in their haste to see their scores. Some rejoiced while some looked close to tears as you finally got to the board, running your finger down the column on the paper till it landed on your name. You held your breath as you removed your finger, revealing...an A!

You had to stop yourself from jumping in excitement as a large smile was plastered onto your face, running to find Dahyun and Chaeyoung to tell them the good news.

-

“Guys!” You yelled happily as you finally found them. Slightly out of breath since you had to run around a bit to find them.

Chae turned first as she took in the smile on your face, “Survey says?”

You smiled brightly, “A!” Both your friends smiled excitedly as they sandwiched you between them jumping in celebration.

“Alright, get together at my house?” Dahyun asked you and Chae as you both nodded, “Great!” You smiled as you slung your arms around both your best friends, the three of you walking towards the entrance of the school before you stopped.

“Aww, crap. I left something in my history class, I’ll be right back.” You turned back as you began running to your classroom, the halls pretty much void of students as you made it through the last corridor before your class. Barely rounding the corner when you spotted Tzuyu in front of the board. You quickly stopped yourself as you hid on the side of the wall, peeking over the side as you watched her, scared to face her head on. So you just waited for her to leave, but what came next surprised you more than just seeing Tzuyu by herself instead of surrounded by her entourage.

She began to cry.

For a second you felt very unsure of what was happening. ‘She’s crying. Chou Tzuyu is crying. I should probably do something.’ Your thoughts seemed to finally catch up to you as you tried to spring your body into action, ‘I should probably do something!’ But your body was frozen in place, unable to move as Tzuyu sniffed loudly. Her head down as she began to walk away, leaving in the opposite direction as you. (Thank God)

You finally felt movement come back to your body as you stepped into the light, walking slowly towards the board as you searched down the list for Tzuyu’s name. Your breath catching as you found it, D. Oh no. That’s not good. You purse your lips in thought as you forgo getting your forgotten pencil as you walk towards the way Tzuyu left, deciding you might as well see if she was okay. But, you turned up empty handed, having no idea where she had run off to and decided to just cut your losses and return to your friends.

A look of relief on Chae’s face as she spotted you, “There you are! We thought we’d have to send out a search party for you.” You smiled weakly at the comment, Dahyun’s smile faltering as she took in your shift in mood.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” You shook your head, clearing your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” You gave her a thumbs up as you put your arms around them again, “What are we still doing here? Let’s go!”

-The Kim’s House-

The three of you had gone through at least two movies as you laid your head on Dahyun’s lap. Her finger’s threaded through your hair as your brows furrowed, the action usually calming you but had no effect on your consciousness as your mind still replayed the events outside your history class.

The brunette glanced down as she saw the serious look on your face, reaching over to pause the movie. Chaeyoung looked at her, ready to say something but stopped as Dahyun held up a hand, “Y/N,” No response, “Y/N.” Her tone became firmer as you blinked, turning your attention to her.

“Did you say something?” Dahyun sighed, making you sit up.

“What’s going on Y/N, after you came back from your class. You seem...sad?” You frowned slightly as you looked at both of your friends.

“Uh...okay, you got me. When I was going to my class, I saw Tzuyu outside since our grades were posted today then she started crying. I didn’t know what to do so I waited till she left and saw she got a, D.” To your surprise you heard Chaeyoung groan in annoyance.

“Dammit Chewy, I told her she needed help.” You and Dahyun both raised an eyebrow as you looked at your silver haired friend.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Chae shook her head, “I told Tzuyu that she needed to get herself a tutor since she was struggling with the paper. But, she didn’t want to since her parents are such hard asses about her being ‘perfect’ and what not.” But this only seemed to confuse you and the brunette further.

“Hold on. You know Tzuyu? Like personally?” Chaeyoung just nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Our parents are family friends, so we’ve spent our whole lives around each other.” The shorter Korean continued talking, oblivious to your’s and Dahyun’s shocked faces. “So, I know all about her grades and things. She was having such a hard time with it, I feel so bad.”

You sat in shock for a little longer, “Wait, so you know Tzuyu and just never thought you should mention it.” Chaeyoung shrugged.

“Must have slipped my mind. But,” The silver haired girl smiled at you, “I think I know how to make her feel better.”

You looked at your suspiciously, “What do you have in mind, Chaengie?”

But Chaeyoung just smiled.

-Monday-

It was early in the morning as you stood in front of Tzuyu’s locker, a small note in your hand as you tried to psych yourself up to put it in. ‘Come on Y/N, she doesn’t know it’s you. You’ll be fine.’

You bit your lip as you slid the note in, saying a prayer as you ran off.

-

The bell rang, signaling the start of school as Tzuyu stood before her locker. Opening it as she watched a few pieces of paper flutter to the ground, ‘More secret admirer letters.’ The Taiwanese girl shook her head as she opened them briefly, tired of reading about how beautiful she was since it was kinda getting old. Until she came across a note that differed from the rest.

Tzuyu, keep your head up. You’re so smart and don’t forget to live while you’re young and wild :) -Anon

Tzuyu nodded as she read the note, ‘Huh, now that’s new.’ She smiled to herself as she secretly tucked the note back into her locker, her head held higher as she walked to her class.

-Wednesday-

It been two days since the first note you had written and you were back with another, holding it to your chest as you breathed out. Before pushing it in.

-

Tzuyu yawned as she moved her hair away from her eyes, opening her locker as a note fluttered to the ground. A smile growing on her face as she noticed the handwriting was the same as the one she had seen on Monday.

Hey, Tzu. Hope your days are getting better! Remeber you are smarter than you know and stronger than you think ;) -Anon.

The Taiwanese girl smiled as she tucked the note with the one she had received on Monday. She was really starting to like this admirer.

-1 Month Later-

It been a month since you had started leaving notes at Tzuyu’s locker every other day, and unbeknownst to you, Tzuyu had actually started looking forward to those days. You stood in front of her locker again, placing a kiss to the note as you slid it in.

-

When Tzuyu arrived to the academy she rushed to her locker. Pulling it open as the note she waited for to fall to the ground.

Tzumong! I hope your classes are going well, remember you are strong enough and amazing. If I had the courage you did I’d ask you out on a date if I could. Have a great day ^ㅊ^ -Anon.

Her eyes widened at the last sentence, so this person did like her. And she couldn’t deny, she had also fallen a little bit for the person writing her, her favorite letters.

-1 Week Later-

You sat bored in your history class as you absentmindedly spun your pencil around your fingers. Barely listening to your teacher as he explained a project he was having the class do on Imperialism. Your eyes focusing slightly on Tzuyu, who you hoped still had no idea it was you leaving the notes.

“Y/N. Y/N!” You shook your head as your gaze was ripped from looking at Tzuyu, to face your teacher.

“Yes?”

He shook his head, tutting, “I said, you’re partners with Tzuyu. Move so you can sit next to each other.” You felt your heart rate spike as your lungs seemed to be completely void of air, getting up on shaky legs as you moved to sit next to Tzuyu.

A small smile on her face as she mouthed, “Hi.” You gave her a smile as the teacher explained the project, before finally allowing the class to talk.

You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as you faced your crush, “H...Hi, I’m Y/N.”

The brunette smiled, “Hi, I’m Tzuyu. Nice to meet you.”

You nodded, “You too.”

The class went by in the blink of an eye as you talked about the project and how it would work out when the bell rang. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I have to go. Can you write your number.” Tzuyu held open her notebook as you quickly wrote your name and number on the lined sheet of paper as she rushed out of the class. Your eyes following her retreating form as you sat back in your desk.

‘Well that just happened.’

-

The Taiwanese girl had to run to the student council meeting since she was behind on one of her projects. Panting as she entered the room. Taking a seat as she opened the notebook she had given you to write in. Her eyes barely glanced at the paper, when your handwriting caught her attention.

Her eyes widened as she pulled the note she had received this morning out of her binder, holding it next to your name and number. An exact match.

‘Oh my god.’

-The Next Morning-

You walked sleepily to your locker as you ran a hand through your hair, yawning as you put in your code. Pulling it open, only to have a piece of paper come fluttering out. You raised an eyebrow as you squatted down to pick it up, turning it over as you gave it an experimental sniff. ‘It smelled like Tzuyu’s perfume?’

You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest as you slowly opened the note. Your eyes widening in shock.

Found you! Now how about you keep your promise about that date you wanted to take me on. -Tzuyu <3.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing as you read the note over and over again. Tzuyu stood quietly behind you. Her chuckle greeted your ears as you turned around slowly, catching her gaze. A smile growing on her lips as she looked at you expectantly.

“So. What’ll it be, Anon?”

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Pink Chains (cont.)

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment. 

Punk! Kyotani x Bubbly F! reader. Aka my favorite cliche trope. It lives in my head every second of the day.

Brief Violence

The rest of the first half and all ive got so far ! / first half at the bottom !!

Your home was a cheap studio apartment not far from the college; a small studio with a cute bed by the window , a table with a bunch of markers with a big sketchbook sitting in the middle . You had the basic needs and a little couch in the corner but no tv , but there was a little pink cat bed next to the couch.

Kyo stuffed his hands in his pockets looking around the studio , it was weird being in a small studio for him since he has a home . Everything seemed shoved into one or two spots. He sat down on the couch and you were looking a little embarrassed, fussing with your dress .

“I know its not much but ! Its my little space heh, Mocha is probably in her little house sleeping. She will wake up soon though now that im home !!!” You picked up some clothes out of a basket. “Ill be right back , make yourself at home!”

“Okay sweetie.” He leaned forward dipping his head down to look in the cat hut . He could see a tiny kitten sleeping in it and smirked leaning back into the couch getting comfortable, well as much as he could in tight jeans. Kyo peeled his jacket off and pulled his phone out to check it .

Group Chat

Mattsun/ picture

Oikawa/ OOOOOO

Iwaizumi/ i knew pink was your color

Kyotonai/ guess where i am

Iwaizumi/well i dont see you so not at home

Oikawa/ are you at her house ?!?

Kyotani/yep, invited me to stay the night

Mattsun/ oh my , how adult

Kyotani/ shut up Mattsun

Oikawa/ hope you brought condoms

Iwaizumi/ be gentle with her

Kyotani/we aint gonna fuck i just didint want to leave yet

Oikawa/ 😙😙😙😗😙😙😙

Mattsun/ 😳😳😳😳😳

Iwaizumi/ 😒

Kyotani / i hate all of you

Iwa,Kawa, Mattsun/ 💕💞♥️

Kyo put his phone on the table when he saw you come out of the restroom, you were wearing a red panda shirt and matching shorts . Mocha emerged from her home too and meowed for attention . Kyo could not stop looking at you, so cute, so , so cute..

“Mocha! “ you bent down and picked up the brown kitten taking a seat next to Kyo to show him. “Shes a rescue ! I saw her all alone and i just had to help her.”

Kyo took the kitten from you and set it on his lap to pet her. “Shes cute” he leaned back tugging at his jeans trying to relax.

“Whats wrong?” You asked, Kyos lap to pet the happy kitten.

“Had these jeans on all day, i dont want to.. make you uncomfortable.”

Mocha nuzzled into Kyos stomach getting comfy and looked like she was not movin for any reason.

“I dont mine but.. you better do it fast because Mocha is not gonna care that you wanna take em off.”

Gently he lifted to kitten to fuss with his belt , you giggled getting up and grabbing your sketchbook. “Can i show you.. heh my drawings.”

“Of course sweetie, you draw?” He asked , pulling his jeans down with one hand and Mocha in the other. Kyo had on black and pink boxers . “Ugn finally..” he set Mocha back on his lap and placed the jeans on his jacket feeling a little unsure if he should have taken em off.

You hid behind your sketchbook when you saw him on the couch in his boxers. Kyo had tone legs from volleyball and a few tattoos on his legs along with some bruises and knicks.

Kyo looked down at Mocha feeling a little embarrassed. Why were skinny jeans so damn uncomfortable after a while? He asked as he pet the little kitten.

You sat down with him criss cross with the sketchbook on your lap. “Yep! I'm in college for art and design. I want to one day get picked up by a clothing store and have my drawings on shirts”

Kyo leaned towards you looking over the sketches with wide eyes. They might have been all cute things; like kittens, red pandas, hearts, patterns and space but they were so damn good. “You have a real talent these are awesome.”

“Really?!?”

“Yes sweetie. Id put these on my shirts. Oh that reminds me..”

“Oh my gosh!! Kyo that would be so cool!” Gently you placed the sketchbook on the table and looked at Kyo, he was a looking a little unsure of himself. “Whats wrong..?”

“Why exactly did you come into my store ? Ive never seen you in it before”

“ uhm Kyo.. you have a shirt in the window with kittens on it.. so.. “

He laughed wrapping his arm around you making you laugh too. “My ‘Sad Day’ shirt? With all the grumpy cats?”

“Its so cute, how could I not!!!” You hit his chest lightly not liking his tone.

“Okay okay.” Lightly he grabbed one of your hands holding it close. “Happy you did, really.” His eyes drifted off you and around the room.

“Kyo?” You inched closer, picking Mocha up leaning down to place her in her hut.

Kyo picked you up and sat you down on his lap facing him, placing his hands at your hips. He leaned back spreading his legs. “Yes? Sweetie..?” You could feel he was a little hard, it was really hot between your legs..

“Im happy i did too.. i really like you.”

His heart thumped a few times. “First girl to say that to me…” he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch to support his head. “I wasn't the nicest guy in highschool, i'll never forget the day Yahaba slammed me into that wall and told me to get my shit together.”

You looked a little sad at his words, Kyo only mentioned his aggression one other time but even then he sounded upset and full of regret.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him , cupping his cheeks so he would look at you. His eyes told you ‘yes, yes please.’ But.. “No, i just want to hold you if that's okay.”

“Okay. If we fall asleep my alarm is going to go off at 8 so sorry in advance.” You got comfortable on his lap and Kyo tipped your chin up so you were looking at him.

“Would you be more comfortable on the bed?”

“Yes i think so. I dont think i can sleep like this. Hehe.”

Kyo gripped your hips picking you up, he stepped over Mochas hut and brought you to the bed to lay down with you, his face a little red. You latched onto his sleeve closing your eyes and drifting off. “Night Kyo..”

“G’night sweetie..”

Fuck what was he doing ? Talking about it will help.. right? Kyo had to wait a bit before you were fully asleep to get up and grab his phone.

Kyotani/ Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi/ Yes

Kytotani/ keep this between us

Iwaizumi/ you didn't hit it and ditch did you?

Kyotani/ what? No.

Iwaizumi/ are you scared to make it official Kyo

Kyo stared at the text for a few minutes reading it over and over .

Iwaizumi/ is it the anger issues

He squeezed his phone and sat down on the couch dialing his phone.

“Im scared ill lash out or something”

“Mm.. when was the last time that happened again?”

“The Tourney against the Black Jackals.”

“Ah yes, think Kei had to pry you off Bokuto or something right?”

“Yes… Iwaizumi i can't lash out at her. I just can't, i mentioned Yahaba and that day and she asked if i wanted to talk about it”

“You said ’no’, didn't you” Sigh “Kyotani she's not a threat, she's not an enemy . She's literally just a girl who likes you. Open up to her”

“How.”

“Uuhhmmmm, tell her you want to talk about it. I'm going to bed. You can do this Kyotani”

He hung up .

Kyo rubbed his face for a minute and glanced at you for a minute then back to his phone opening up Messages.

Kyotani/ Mattsun i know your asleep but invite Yahaba to the beach volleyball.

He set his phone down and very slowly made his way back to you. He wrapped his arms around your sleeping body and shut his eyes tight trying to sleep.

**

In the morning Kyo was awake early browsing on his phone, he stared at the screen for a minute before pressing Play on the video.

-flash back-

‘Another score for the Black Jackals!!! It is Match Point !!! ‘

The Sendai frogs were tired, sweaty and losing this Tournament. The Black Jackals were still full of energy and ready to go . It was a very hard game for both sides and Bokuto kept testing Kyotani, this was the first time he met the loud grey haired boy and he just did not like him. He knew Hinata but he did not like him too much.

Kyotani was doing better at keeping his temper under control and his team figured out how to hype him up without making him angry. Kei was not too fond of him but then again he did not really need to be, they just needed to be on the same page on the court.

That owl boy though, he was loud, annoying , and just testing him. Kyotani knew it, every serve, block, and spike was for him to clear or get rid of . Kyotani got hit with the ball a couple times and thats when he lost it.

‘Kyotani has taken another hit from the ball!!!’ Yelled the annoucer .

“Hey hey hey?!! Eye on the ball yea!??”

“Dont let it get to you” Kei told him .

“.........”

“..Kyot-“

He was on the other side of the net ontop of Bokuto punching him .The whole building was dead silent.

The last thing Kyotani remembered was hearing the announcer describe what was happening and Kei pulling him off of Bokuto.

He quit the Sendai Frogs that day, took his last check and left not looking back. He opened an apparel shop he called The Dog House and got in touch with his old highschool teammates starting over.

-end flashback-

You woke up to see Kyos hand on your head , you were not fully awake so you just laid there enjoying the nice feeling on your head. Mocha had also joined you in bed and was between you both sleeping. Kyo smelled like leather… an old leather that was renewed, it made your nose crinkle a bit. Looking up you saw he had a collar tattoo with spikes on it on his wrist . It was kinda silly but kinda cute too , although you wondered what it meant.

A minute later your alarm went off and you whimpered letting Kyo know you were awake. He let go of your head to slam your alarm clock off. He looked upset or angry in the face, and he was still staring at his phone.

Slowly you got up and gently placed Mocha on your pillow so you could scoot closer to him. “Kyo? Did you get any sleep?”

“I have to show you something.” He said as he turned his phone to you pressing Play again.

You were holding the phone now, it was alot heavier than yours . You had watched the video a couple times and everytime Kyo punched Bokuto you flinched. After the second time you placed the phone down to sit facing him.

“Kyo..”

He looked the other way running his hand through his hair.

“Kyo?”

He wanted to run away so bad. Start over again. Someplace without people like -

“Kyo.”

You were between his legs now , he had his knees up and was resting his elbows on them and still did not look at you. Dammit Mad Dog just say something to her, she's right there, dont shut her out.. dont shut..

You grabbed his face turning his head, kissing him, catching him very off guard. Kyo fell back taking you with him . You had no intention of stopping and just kissed him more and more even though he cursed between breaths. Kyo grabbed you lifting you up off his face and chest. You frowned at him and sat down on his lap once he let you go, cheeks flushed and very embarrassed.

“S..swee..sweetie”

“You aren't like that anymore!” You told him while you rubbed your eyes.

“Sweetie no don't cry please..” he sat up taking you in his arms rubbing your back in circles. “Sshh..”

“Please.. talk to me..” You sniffled into his neck squeezing him tight.

Kyo was shaking .. you were shaking . He laid his head on your neck starting from the beginning.. the very beginning. Every few minutes he would stop to check if you were still crying. He would cup your face and wipe under your eyes and ask ‘Are you Afraid of Me’ and you shook your head saying ‘No’ every single time. You were both tearing up by the end of it, Kyotani told you about Yahaba, Highschool after Iwa & Kawa graduated , how he became a Pro and Bokuto. The look on his face just made you so sad and seeing you sad was something he never wanted to see.

“Sweetie.. how , how can.”

“I like you Kyo, a lot. I'm not scared, never will be.”

“I'm so scared ill lash out at you sweetie.”

You grabbed his hand holding it and running a hand up and down his sleeve while you talked. “Kyo.. you let me touch your wolves. When we first met in your shop i noticed you were rubbing it a lot , like you were worried or you thought id just out right touch it”

“I..”

You kissed him again and wiped your eyes free of stray tears. “I want to be with you Kyo, i wanna.. see red pandas with you”

He laughed at that and so did you.

“I already said i'd take you didint i?” He asked cupping your face .

“Just making sure you know i really wanna go heh..”

“I know sweetie, believe me i know.” Kyo kissed you and you blushed wrapping your arms around him.

The alarm went off again too.

••

@zoppzoop @mocha-babes @haikyuu-but-low-iq @milkbreadcat @kozushiki

••

[atrixfromice]

This is the saddest thing that have happened to me ever.

Hi my folks!

Hey...

sorry about my lack of art lately! I owe you an apology... I wasn't sure if talking about this, but I imagine that sooner or later it will reflect in my art anyways, so, I thought I'd talk about it a bit.

I think I've spent a lot of time trying so hard to befriend this guy I found last year's December and I fell in love with, that I've spent the very few free time I have (when I wasn't looking for a job) trying to befriend him. But things didn't really turned out well for me.

I imagine you would like to hear the end of this story... though.

Well, time passes and I thought I had at least catched his attention, because he started to follow me on Twitter. So I felt myself lucky and I thought to take the advice that my mom and Faikel gave me, and to try to get closer to him to form a good friendship and after that to tell him about my feelings for him.

So that was my plan. And I thought it was a good one...it seemed like a good plan.

...But today I went to see what was new on my social networks, and saw on his Twitter a post about him meeting a girl a couple of days ago, and announcing they were dating.

Which it's strange to me cos it's a person who appeared from nowhere, recently joined to twitter and has only 1 tweet O_O And if you look for her on other sites on the internet, there's nothing. In my case I know him since last year's December.

In any case. As you can imagine...this is probably the end for this story.

And the end of my hopes to find a true love...

Cos you know, I'm one of these peeps who, when they fall in love, their heart belongs to only one person. So this probably means...

...that I'll be all alone for all the rest of my life.

I feel devastated! This news broke up my heart into very tiny pieces, and I think they cannot be repaired...

And honest to God I don't know what to do!

What I should do now? Should I keep following him and trying to cultivate the friendship? Or should I just unfollow him and remove him from my social networks, to not suffer in the future?

Why God let's these things happen?

What I can do to take away the pain?....

Also... I can't help but wonder, if I picked up the wrong advice, I mean, if I was too slow and I should have told him my feelings like @chateaudecoolette advised me, instead of waiting, like my other friend, my mom and Faik advised me.

I wonder if I'd have had any chance with him, too. I mean, seeing how much I struggled to make him notice me, maybe I wouldn't have had much chance with him anyways. I think if he was in love with me whe we met, he would have payed me attention since the beginning and talked to me...and that didn't happen.

One doesn't choose to who you fall in love with...it just happens.

...But one can choose what to do if things don't come out well for you and you're not loved back.

I do love him, with all my heart! And I only wish for him happiness and that all his dreams come true! And of course, I'd like to become a good friend of him one day. And I'll always love him and support him, even if he never love me the same way. Bev's that's how true love is.

So I pray right now... I pray for God's wisdom.

I pray so he can give me the strength and the wisdom to do the best thing for him and for me...the one that would help me to find peace and solace in my heart...

[publiccollectors]

From the discussion “Towards A Self Sustaining Publishing Model” hosted by Printed Matter.

Some things I have learned in over 30 years of publishing since my teenage days as a zine maker, administrating my project Public Collectors, and from working in the group Temporary Services and our publishing imprint Half Letter Press.

I have just ten minutes to speak. If only one or two things that I share are useful, that’s plenty! It took me decades to understand some of this stuff.

Use every exhibition invitation with a budget to print something. Use the whole budget to print something. Make something in a large enough print run so that you have something to give away and surplus that you can sell. Your publication can be a folded sheet of paper, a booklet, a newspaper, a poster, a book, or anything in between.

Be able to print at least something at home. Buy a cheap laser printer or inkjet printer, find a used copy machine, buy a RISO or some other duplicator, carve something into a potato or a piece of foam and print it. Being able to do at least some of the printing and production at home—even if it’s on a tiny scale—will compel you to print things that you might have convinced yourself not to send out or bring to a professional printer. Hopefully the ability to print impulsively and compulsively will result in good work. Figure out how to keep making things on every scale. Look for cheap used printing equipment on Craigslist. Team up with friends and buy equipment together that you can share. Start a printing collective in your basement.

Ideally your publication should cost 1/5th or 1/6th of the retail price to make. If you sell a $10.00 publication through a store, you are probably only going to make $6.00 or less after the store takes its cut. So ideally your $10.00 book costs $2.00 or less to make. Don’t aim to just break even. Aim to make a profit so you can keep making more publications and pay for your life. Publishing will probably never be your sole income but don’t lose money on purpose. Make things that are priced fairly and look like they justify what they cost to buy. The fact that you didn’t find a more affordable way to print something is not an excuse to sell something that feels cheap and shitty for a ridiculous sum of money. Good cheap printing is easier to find than ever before. Do your homework.

Figure out the cheapest and least wasteful ways to do everything. Ask other publishers where they get their work printed. Look for local printers so you can avoid shipping fees. Ask local printers if you can pay in cash for a discount. Ask printers if there is a cheaper way to do what you want to do by adjusting the size of your paper or the paper stock or some other small shift in form. If you print things yourself, buy the paper that is on sale. Design a publication around the paper that you found for cheap. Discount warehouses sometimes have good paper. Even dollar stores sometimes have good paper. I’ve even bought paper at flea markets. Costco sells an 800 sheet ream of 24 lb paper for $6.99. I use it all the time. It rules. I also recommend getting your jugs of organic olive oil there, but you can’t print with that.

Free printing is good printing. If you have access to free printing, use it. Free printing is like free food at art openings and conference receptions. It is one of those pleasures in life that never gets old. Come up with an idea that is based around the aesthetics of whatever free printing you have access to and make the publication that way. Eat the cheese and bread. Drink the wine. Make the copies at work.

Buy bulk shipping mailers on eBay. Find bubble wrap and other packing materials in the trash. Look out for neighbors who just bought new furniture—it’s usually wrapped in miles of packing material you can use for shipping books. Boycott terrible right wing fuckers like ULINE. Seriously, they give money to everyone horrible. Trump? Check. Ted Cruz? Check. Scott Walker? Check. ROY FUCKING MOORE? CHECK FUCKING CHECK! Tear up their catalogs and use them as packing material to protect your books. Make publications that have a consistent size so you can purchase cardboard mailers in bulk and get a discount on them. Buy packing tape in bulk. Buy everything in bulk. You can store your extra reams of paper under your bed or on top of your kitchen cabinets if necessary. Be like a wacko survivalist prepper, but for office supplies. Go to estate sales and look for the home office in the house. Buy the dead person’s extra tape and staples and rulers and scissors. I’ve been using some random dead person’s staples for years because I bought their staple hoard. Staples aren’t like meat and milk. They don’t expire.

I’m against competition. Try to avoid competing with other artists for resources. If you don’t truly need the money, don’t ask for it. Artists should have a section on their CV where they list grants they could have easily gotten but didn’t apply for because they are privileged enough that they don’t need the money as much as someone else. I almost never apply for anything but the one thing I do apply for and get every year is a part-time faculty development grant from Columbia College Chicago where I teach. It pays adjuncts up to $2,500 a year to fund their projects and seems to be completely non-competitive. My union negotiated to get us more money. I have used that grant to make over a dozen publications. The value of the publications I make and sell with each grant is about three or four times the value of the grant itself. Some years I make more from the grant than I do from the limited number of classes I teach. But I don’t depend on this grant to be a publisher and I’d still be able to make things without it.

Make things in different price ranges so everyone can afford your work, but also so that you can sustain your practice. Make a publication that costs $2.00, that costs $6.00, that costs $20.00, and make something special for the fancy ass institutional libraries that have a lot of money to spare and can buy something that costs $300.00. Likewise, make things in all different size print runs. Is there something you can print 1,000 of that you can keep selling and giving away for years, to enjoy that quantity discount that comes with offset printing a large number of publications?

Collaborate with people and pay them with publications (if they are cool with that) that they can sell on their own. Sometimes this ends up being better pay and more useful than an honorarium, and it helps justify a larger print run. But see what they need—don’t assume. Barter with other publishers and sell each other’s work and let each other keep the money. This helps with distribution. Sometimes it’s easier to sell their work than it is to sell your own. Help others expand the audience for their publications.

Fund your publishing practice by asking your friends who teach to invite you to talk to their college classes about your work. Use those guest speaker fees to print something. I sometimes tell people on social media: If three or four people will invite me to speak to their class, it could fund the entire next issue of X booklet series that you like so much. This has often worked. Also, sometimes their students end up ordering publications. Sometimes lectures about publications generate more income than the publications themselves.

Have an emailing list and write newsletters to announce new publications. Stay in touch with people who like what you do. Expect to spend a ton of time corresponding with people. Have some cheap things and cool ephemera on hand that you can send people for free when they mail order your publications. Reward people who support you directly with something nice that they didn’t expect. People like handwritten notes. It’s okay if they are very short but sign the packing slip and at least write “Thank you!”

Above all, know that publishing is a life journey and not a get rich quick scheme, or even a make very much money scheme. Enjoy the experience of meeting and working with others, trade your publications with other publishers and build up an amazing library of small press, hard to find artist books. Get vaccinated and travel and sleep on each other’s couches. Be generous with your time, knowledge, resources, and work. Tell Jeff Bezos to fuck off by never selling anything you make through Amazon. Find the bookstores that you love and work with them forever. It’s nicer to have deeper relationships with fewer bookstores than surface level interactions with dozens of shops run by people you don’t know.

Think about your publishing family. Bookstore people are your family. People that organize book fairs and zine fests are your publishing family. Other publishers are your family. People who follow your work for years on end are your family. Printers and binderies are your family. The postal workers that know you by name and that you know by name are your family. The person who doesn’t care if you make the free copies at work is your family. Over thirty years later, I’m still in contact with people I exchanged zines with through the mail when I was a teenager. In some cases I still haven’t met them in person. It’s fine! They are my family. Your students are your family—particularly once they graduate or drop out, as long as they continue making books and zines. Your family is your family, particularly if they value and support your publishing practice. And for this reason, this talk is dedicated to my late father Bruce Fischer, who let me use the company copier and postage meter when I was in high school, and to my mom who sat on the floor with me and helped me hand collate and staple my zines.

That’s what I’ve got for now. Stay in touch and with luck, and enough vaccines and masks and hand sanitizer, maybe I’ll see you at a book fair. – Marc Fischer • Thank you to Be Oakley of GenderFail for the invitation to present, to the other presenters Vivian Sming, Yuri Ogita, and Devin Troy Strother, and to the wonderful people at Printed Matter for hosting this! You should be able to find the video archived on Printed Matter’s YouTube Channel.  Presented on April 2, 2021

[mimiplaysgames]

Drink Me

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 6,601

Summary: Aqua drinks a truth potion... Now they're going to have to talk about things.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!! This is part of an art/fic trade that I'm doing with Moe (@terraswill on Twitter)!! I was so excited to work on this but it was also just... so hard?? We agreed on the trade back in June I think, and it took me this long. xD The timing was perfect though, and when they post their art, I'll edit this to include a link! Moe asked for was something domestic and fluffy (and I'm totally the wrong person to ask but I never back from a challenge dkfjkfjgf), and maybe give Aqua a reason to play a prank. We support a Let Aqua Have Fun 2021 agenda in this house. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. To my angst readers, I hope you find something here you like anyway lmao

~*~*~*~*~

She says she’s annoyed with me because I won’t let her dust the tapestry. Or rather, I won’t let her have her

way

and take on this ugly monstrosity (which I think is supposed to depict an ancient Keyblade Master who died four-hundred years ago; at this point, the threads are too faded to give him a defined face). 

The truth has more layers than that, something I don’t like to talk about. But it’s a clear day, the sun beaming through our windows and igniting the castle in golden hues. I won’t find the time to mope when Aqua is beckoning me to give her the feather duster. 

Aqua is a lot shorter than me. I pretend to give it to her, only to swerve it around her face and hang it up high above her head. I’ve got a smirk to last me hours, and there’s a sly one pulling on her lips. 

“Maybe if you jump,” I say, wiggling it. 

She doesn’t move. “Terra.”

I pull it up higher. “Come get it.”

“Or you could stop trying to overcompensate and let me help you.”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” That’s exactly what I’m doing. Any chance I get, I’ll do it all to make up for lost years. If she says she’ll tidy the garden tomorrow, I’ll rip the weeds by dawn. If she wants to prepare a feast, I’ll organize the ingredients, the recipes, the appliances. I call it helping out. She calls it ridiculous. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she says. Yep.

“It’s not like you could reach the top anyway,” I say, knowing this is precisely what would set her off.

Aqua likes to present herself as proper: head tall, ankles together. But when I push her buttons, that’s the first mask to melt off. She lunges at me, chest to chest, aiming for the duster that’s balancing on the tips of my fingers, my elbow locked and shoulder riding as high as it can, as if I’m trying to clean the ceiling. We’re giggling, we’re tight, we’re children all over again.

“Give it,” she says, her eyebrows and lips twisted in feverish concentration. She’d never let anyone else see her behave this way. 

“What are you doing?” She steps onto my shoes to gain height and I have to wrap my free arm around her waist to keep our balance (not that I’d complain if she ends up landing on top of me). My heart is pounding stupid rhythms at the smell of her shampoo. I don’t like sweet, but I like it on her. 

“Master’s orders. Give it to me.” 

“Try harder.”

She inhales sharply, giving me that Aqua look. Fine. She turns her head towards the tapestry and puckers her lips together, blowing air as if blowing out a candle. The layer of dust that sits at the very top bursts, sprinkling the console table beneath it. 

In my shock, she snatches the feather duster, the quietest Hmm of satisfaction coming out loud enough to demand my audience. She taps the tapestry with a flat laundry bat, all while waving her hand over the surface of the table, the dust collecting itself as if swirled by a magnetic tornado. 

No use for the duster at all.

“You think you’re clever,” I say, getting close behind her. 

“I think you agree.”

I think she’s pretending. Her smile looks the same but it’s manufactured, tied to a puppeteer’s strings. There’s a flicker in her eyes that tells me she doesn’t agree at all. I’m prepared to tell her that she’s assured and confident, but she already knows. This happens: I’ll catch a sudden recognition dawning on her face, like she’s reminding herself of something, and I’m left to guess what it could be.

We’re interrupted by a loud sneeze that drifts from the other side of the hall, followed by a hack and a cough, finishing with a sniffle. 

She’s panicked. It sounds like a case of the common cold, and nothing to be worried about, but that’s Aqua. I follow her lead, which takes us to no one else but Ven, who is wiping his face. A faint trace of dust rides on the strands of his hair. Actually, there’s dust everywhere except on the tapestry he’s responsible for. 

“Ven!” Aqua gapes. “What happened here?”

He takes a look around the chaos and gives a mere shrug, rubbing the back of his hand on his pants. “I was dusting.”

“You were using magic,” she says like she’s scolding him, despite doing the same minutes ago.

“What did you expect me to do?” He gestures towards the tapestry—the Master’s favorite, of a round cat lounging on a throne and announcing a toast with his goblet—like it’s a mountain to climb. “Get a ladder?”

“What a mess,” Aqua mutters with a flitter of her fingers, shepherding the dust together so it’s easier to collect. 

“I’m not finished.”

“Master’s orders,” I say and Aqua doesn’t spare me a glare. Yes, I find that funny.

Ven ushers her aside. “Come on, let me help.”

“I got it,” she says, fixated on the job. Always the one to do and still can’t learn to accept a helping hand.

“Aqua.”

“Ven?”

I know better than to get in the middle of this.

Ven generates gusts of air with a wave of both of his arms—a terrible idea when Aqua’s conducting from the other side—and the dust grows darker into a thick cloud of smoke. He stares at his handiwork with a dropped jaw. I’m shocked too. Where did all of that come from?

Aqua grunts as she tries to calm the storm, Ven mimicking her movements.

“Let it go,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder.

“It will all fall to the floor.”

“There’s too much pressure building up from the bottom.”

“It’s under control.”

“It’s going to explode.”

She pouts (stars, it’s cute) but of course, only half-listens to me. Moving her palms parallel to the floor, she makes a gesture as if to compress. With Ven slacking, it billows low to the floor and then sweeps up.

The tapestry flaps upward, revealing a door.

Ven’s the first to cough. “What’s that?”

Aqua and I stare at each other. We’ve hidden behind every single one of these tapestries when we played as kids. There shouldn’t be a door.

“Do you think it’s magic leftover from—” I start to ask.

She shakes her head. “It can’t be. I returned everything to its rightful place.”

“Then what is this supposed to mean?” 

Discouraged by our hushed tones, Ven stops himself from turning the knob, waiting for our approval.

“It could have been hidden by a spell,” Aqua suggests.

“Oh.” 

We’re quiet. Spells last for as long as the spellcaster is alive.

“The Master would have called it an inheritance,” I say. “Don’t you think?”

One by one, we peek into the secret room. Ven is eager to open the door but only pushes it a sliver. It creaks with determination to wake everyone inside. Aqua is second, looking over him. I’m last, searching the corners for signs of movement. 

It’s empty except for a rack of white robes, stacks of books on a desk, a chess board, and a forest-colored couch. On the opposite wall sits a huge wardrobe next to a reading stand, displaying an open tome on what may have been the last page the Master read. An old-fashioned wall clock with visible parts and spinning characters counts the time, looking peculiarly like the Land of Departure. The sun shines through a window—though this would be an extra. All the windows on both sides of the castle are accounted for. You wouldn’t be able to see this room from the outside. 

“Terra,” Aqua gasps, “look at these books.”

Most of them are titled in an ancient language. “They’re from Scala.”

“We could probably find Sora with these,” she says, flipping through one.

Some of the robes are sewn with patches of snake skin, others stained with faded off-yellow, each a varying size for a growing teenager. I take the largest—it smells like dust—and slip it on. Almost a perfect fit, though I would’ve preferred it longer.

“It looks good on you,” Aqua says, coming to my side.

I smile at the floor, imagining what the Master would have said, how large his smile would have been under that bushy mustache, like the day he gave me his belt buckle and told me it would be a nice touch. Aqua inspects a fraying seam on the shoulder.

“I can fix that,” she whispers. I let her pull it off me, and she dotingly folds it over the book she decides to take with her. 

“Whoa.”

We drop our thoughts and turn to Ven, who’s helped himself to the wardrobe, stupefied at shelves of potions in glass flasks. Ugly colors, weirdly shaped, totally bizarre. 

“These aren’t any potions I recognize,” Aqua says, placing her stack on the couch and investigating the shelf with her arms crossed. 

None of them are labeled. “Maybe they’re lost knowledge,” I say, still thinking about her compliment. How often does she think I look good? “Can you imagine what kind of magic they’re packed with?”

Ven glances at the open book on the reading stand. “Let’s see.”

I join him, watching him flip through crudely drawn illustrations of odd shapes. We both snigger.

“Look through walls,” he reads before turning to the next page. “Neverending sweat. Turn a face blue. Glue lips together… This one says you can unglue them by washing your mouth with soap.”

“Lost knowledge.” Aqua scoffs.

“But who made them?” I ask. “The Master?”

Aqua rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“This is his secret room.”

“It looks like his handwriting,” Ven says, trying to keep his smile tiny. Trying. “Kind of.”

The O’s and the T’s certainly have their curls, just the way Eraqus would have done them. The Y’s are similar too, if a bit exaggerated and large. As Ven turns more pages, all of which are yellowed and chipped at the edges, I realize the drawings match the shapes of different vials, equipped with descriptions of colors. 

“I think Ven’s right.”

Aqua throws a look (Forget it) and rolls her eyes again. It’s her favorite thing to do. “We’re talking about the Master here. He wouldn’t waste his time on something like this.”

“I got an idea!” Ven beams, nudging me on the elbow. “Why don’t we try some? Guess what they are before we look in the book?”

The only person who stiffens is Aqua. 

“Look at her face.” Ven points. “She thinks we’re savages.”

Aqua doesn’t say anything, but it’s possible. 

I cock my head. “If the Master were here, he would have gotten a kick out of this.”

“Terra—”

“Regardless of who made them.” 

She drums her fingers on her forearm. “If it makes you happy,” she mumbles. It was subtle, but it was there.

“I’ll go first!” Ven leaps over the reading stand. There’s a rainbow of the most unsavory colors. The neon, the dull, the too realistic. “This one looks perfect.” He grabs a thin vial of liquid that I could mistake for vomit: a faded, rotten lime green, and drinks it all in one swish.

Following the last gulp, he withers to the floor, flailing and begging for it to stop.

I’m searching through the book for an answer.

Aqua throws herself to her knees. “What’s wrong?”

Ven giggles, cradling his stomach then scratching his back. “Don’t touch me.” He gasps in between painful howls of laughter. “It makes it worse.”

She carries his head to her lap anyway. She wouldn’t be Aqua if she isn’t indulging in some deep-seated instinct to assume we’re not healthy before assuring herself that we are. 

I tap my finger onto a page. “Tickling potion. ‘Give this to your favorite person,’ it says.”

“I’m going”—Ven inhales—“to bring the Master”—inhales again—“back to life just to… kill him again.” He deteriorates into another round of wheezing, hugging himself tight and turning over into a fetal position.

“It’s too juvenile for the Master,” Aqua reminds me.

This page is written with the same suspicious calligraphy but I hold my tongue. To ease the look of worry on Aqua’s face, I step forward. “My turn.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aqua says.

“Relax. There’s no such thing as death by tickling.”

Aqua jerks to say something but stops herself. I’m guessing, Let me have at it and you’d think otherwise. Nothing that she’d say with Ven in the room.

Ven rubs his eyes and sighs—it’s shaky and long, but it’s an improvement. “Can I try another one?”

The first potion to catch my attention is this wide, stubby one filled with what looks like dark mud. 

“Terra.” 

Her warning makes me think of the slight possibility of developing diarrhea from this. I stare into her eyes as I swallow a gulp of it anyway, much to her horror and much to my enjoyment. Her expressions are a never-ending list of entertainment. 

The potion is too smooth to be mud. It tastes spicy, a kick without any flavor. At first, I don’t feel anything, until a zap of electricity rides up my spine. Gooseflesh covers the backs of my calves up to my neck.

By the time I realize that I’m shivering, Aqua has my face in her hands. Her fingertips are warm when she brushes my hair.

“I’m fine.” A white cloud puffs out of my lips. 

Ven is cackling. Not from the tickling, that may have stopped as soon as he got distracted, but he’s pointing his finger at me.

“As fine as a monkey walking naked into the snow,” she quips, wrapping the robe around my shoulders and rubbing my biceps. 

“You can’t say, I told you so,” I say, my voice reverberating. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“I know you don’t regret it.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

She scoffs, smirking. Her eyes drop to some faraway conversation with herself.

“What are you thinking?” My teeth clatter. 

She raises her eyebrows, playing coy. 

“Whoever made this freezing potion,” Ven interrupts, having dragged himself to the book and is now leaning on it with both hands to stay stable, “wanted to test it. See if it could preserve vital organs.” He slowly nods (as if anything in this book makes sense). 

“I guess we’ll find out if it worked when I die.” The tremors hurt, rupturing in blows down my torso. Aqua mutters a spell and a fiery glow halos her hands, hovering near my skin. My own personal hearth. I can’t help but imagine doing the same for her one day. 

“Anyone else want to take a crack at it or should I drink another one?” Ven says.

Aqua glances over her shoulder and is actually considering it . 

“No way,” I say.

She ignores me, reading each bottle as though they’d spill their secrets.

I lean towards her ear, though she’s already swatting me away. “Do you need help choosing one?”

She grabs a curvy vial that looks like it has hips and is filled to the brim with pure white. Defiantly turning to stick her nose up at me, she proudly drinks (a sip), grimacing through the taste. But she keeps tall. As long as the nose stays up.

“Oh shit,” Ven mutters.

“Language,” I say.

We wait for the effect. Nothing happens. 

“What do you feel?” I ask.

“Nothing. I feel normal.”

“You’re a liar,” Ven says, throwing pages and scanning pictures, then rustling back to see if he skipped any.

“I am not. Maybe it’s expired.” As soon as she says it, her eyes go wide.

“That doesn’t make any sense. We had immediate effects. Maybe you should drink some more?”

“Don’t be silly.” Aqua shuts the bottle with its topper and gently places it back in its spot. “This was a foolish game, anyway.” 

I have to scoff—that’s harsh, even coming from Aqua. “Then why go for it?”

“Because I admire you so much, Terra, when you’re brave enough to go after something I wouldn’t come near. Because I have to match you, maybe outmatch you sometimes, if you get on my nerves. Because sometimes I get scared that I’ve missed out on so much, and I can’t help but wonder if our childhood may be missing something. After everything we’ve lost, I don’t want to be scared of being silly anymore. But… What if I’m a boring slog? I don’t want to be a bore. I want to be daring and fun like you and Ven,” she says in rapid tossed word salad, her hands getting animated the more she talks, pressed to answer questions we didn’t ask.

Ven and I have nothing to say.

“I…” Aqua fusses with her sleeves. “I don’t know why I unloaded all of that.”

“Dramatic, much?” Ven says.

She fists her hips. “Dramatic is when you whine about your dreams so you can avoid chores thinking I wouldn’t call your bluff.”

Ven gapes. “Aqua, you’re mean.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She hides her face behind her hands, taking them to her heart and bowing. “Ven, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Something weird is going on.” I take the helm at searching the book, shuffling pages in chunks until I find one with stark white paint, in the shape of curves and waves. “Ven,” I whisper when I read the description. When he looks at me, his impish smile stretches with lists of ideas. I’m right there with him.

A stuffy silence fills the room when we recite it: Truth potion. The person who drinks it cannot help but to answer questions honestly. 

Aqua steps back. 

She bolts out of the room, knocking some of the books over. 

“Get her!” Ven yells.

My muscles protest when I take off, stiff and sluggish as though I’ve experienced a whole winter outside. Aqua dashes through an open doorway and thrusts her arm out. The doors slam together, refusing to let me through. Ven’s going to have to find another way around. This won’t stop me and she knows it. I slip through a growing portal of darkness—the swirls that lick me would have been cold, but I’m numb—and I come out the other side. There’s certain tricks that come from being the poster boy for Darkness; it’s helpful in fights.

This part of the castle leads to the common areas. I know where she’ll be.

Aqua is splitting her attention between mixing batter in a large wooden bowl and running a soapy dishwash in the kitchen sink. When I approach her, she makes a point to put her finger on her lips.

Stars, it’s so hard not to laugh. “You’re not going to—”

She grunts, shaking her head furiously at me. No questions. 

With my elbows propped on the countertop, I watch her scrub a dish. More than she normally does, actually, a little therapy session to take her mind off the fact that I’m relishing this moment. It’s satisfying how she suddenly remembers that she’s heating the oven, throwing herself across the kitchen to check the temperature.

She points to the spice cupboard next to me, and gets more enthusiastic when I open it. Apparently, she wants the cinnamon. 

“I think vinegar would help better with what you’re doing.” I nod my head to the sink. 

With the flick of her hand, water pouring out of the faucet changes direction and splashes me in the face.

“Am I annoying?” I snigger. I had to.

A tick in her shoulders—her body has no choice but to react. “That’s a stupid question.” Every word is pulled out of her teeth. Normally, she’d say, No, how could you even imagine that!

I dip my finger into the suds and plant one large print on her forehead in between the eyes, where she’s glaring so hard, they are crossed.

“How about now?”

“The worst,” she groans, slamming her hands into the bath. She takes a washcloth to dry them and wipes her forehead. Afterwards, she hands it to me. 

“Think of it as an opportunity to get to know the real you.” I dry my face. 

“You know me already.”

“Do I know everything, though?”

“No.” This potion doesn’t miss a beat.

Ven is panting by the time he enters, climbing a stool behind the counter and peering over the edge like a small child. He’s doing that on purpose, goading her into playing along. He asks me, “Can we?”

She groans.

I’m back on my elbows so I can look up at her and give her the same puppy dog eyes. Between glancing at the two of us, she can’t stand it. She wants to make us happy, she’s always been like that. Then again, she probably also wants to bash our heads together and leave us with headaches. One of the two would amuse her better. 

“How about we ask her three questions only? We shouldn’t drive her crazy.”

She chuckles, that little smile of hers growing and reassuring and there. That’s my girl. Turning off the sink, she folds the washcloth and brings her hands together as though we’re in class. “Three questions each. Is that okay?”

Wow. “More than I asked for.” 

“I already have one,” Ven says, sitting on his knees. “Do you hate Lea?”

“A little. But I’m working on it.”

Ven snorts and drops his face onto the counter. How many times have we asked her that and got the, Don’t be ridiculous. Like I said, he’s formidable. “I knew it.”

“He does his missions with the least amount of effort possible. Takes the easiest route to build his technique. Efficiency, he calls it,” she says, letting out the hot pressure she’s been keeping to herself with relief. “He also calls me, Teach. Who does that?”

Of all the times I’ve expected Aqua to snap at someone, she holds herself back when it comes to Lea, giving him tight smiles to zip it all up. “Ouch,” I say. “He’s been working so hard on a gift to thank you for working with Isa.”

She grimaces. “At least he has good taste in men? Isa does have a respectable work ethic.” 

I pat her hand. Aqua’s usually the one to blow the kettle first, but there’s ways to connect people who may not see eye to eye the first time. Maybe I can be a buffer. “Next time you meet, I could go with you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she whispers. 

“Lea would find it hilarious, honestly.” Ven waves his hand as if it’s no big deal. “I bet he’d give you a note with your gift. It would say, Thanks for everything. I hate you, too, Teach .”

“Okay, my turn,” I say, resting my chin on my palm. She studies me, too, though I’d like to believe I could keep a poker face. “Do you sometimes steal my cologne?”

“Yes.”

Her bluntness throws me back. “To wear ?”

“Yes,” she says as though it’s obvious and crosses her arms. Duh.

“Hey, that’s two questions,” Ven says. 

“Sorry.” I take one more glance to see if I could gleam any more clues from her facial expressions, but she keeps her nose high. As long as the nose stays up.

“I have to think of a really good one.” Ven holds his chin, looking more serious than he’s been since the Keyblade War. “Ever farted then blamed Terra for it?”

“Ugh.” Aqua quivers, her knuckles bleaching. She throws her face over her shoulder and stares scars into the wall. “Yes of course, didn’t we all?” 

“Come on, I could’ve answered that,” I say (though after all these years, it’s validating to know it’s not a blame game anymore). I nudge her with my shoulder. “Justice does feel pretty good.”

“Ask me something better,” she says after smacking my bicep. Her face is as ripe as sunburn. 

Questions that give her more control. I could do that. “Is there anything you’ve been needing to say but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

The tension in her face drops. It leaves something pale and disappointed in its place, a faraway look. I shouldn’t have asked; whatever this fear is, it’s meant for me. “Yes,” she whispers.

I stand pin-straight, the air in the room thinning, as though the Darkness has opened a hole and is sucking all the sun away. Ven does the same. The other Keybearers will stare at their cuticles, or fumble and cut themselves out of the group when they’re upset or hurt or sorry. Eraqus forged a protocol out of us. When we witness or cause harm, we recite what we’ve done and its effects. We bow when we apologize. 

So far, we’ve been home for one hundred and seventy five days. Never expected it to take this long. I open my mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” she says softly. “I know what you’re going to ask.”

I would have pleaded with her to let me apologize, and I would have met her dismissal anyway: No, Terra, it’s not necessary. We’ve been through it all. We should enjoy what we have. She means well; the relaxation and the mundane tasks are good for all of us. Even when we were younger, Aqua was generous at her expense, sparing nuts from her brownie to bake them into a tarte, knowing I hate brownies. She’d look at the brighter side of things (More fudge for me!), and stick her tongue out. She’s been my smile, but she gives too much, and we still need this conversation.

“So what is the answer?”

She lowers her eyes to the counter, then wills them back up at me. “I blame myself.”

Aqua.

Ven sighs. “I should give you guys some space.” He treads away, keeping his footsteps minimal, meticulously turning the handle so it’d make the least noise possible. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I see him press his ear against the door before it shuts. If he’s going to listen in, that’s fine with me. Whatever she and I have to say to each other would affect all three of us.

“You blame—”

“I would be… lying.” She simpers, shaking her head. “If I said I never blamed you. There were moments I did. How and why. But I had enough endless nights where those reasons circled back to me. What I could have done to make it better. To save you,” she croaks, wiping her eyes. “To be a best friend. You needed that. Ven needed one, too. And I wasn’t.”

Aqua scrubs the already-clean counter with that dry washcloth, creating a rhythm that fills the silence. The oven is now heated, and I take the cinnamon and pour two spoonfuls of it into a beaker, our backs to each other. Add cups of sugar for her, some cocoa, a pinch of vanilla while she drills the grouts in between the tiles.

“I wasn’t much of a best friend myself, either.”

“You were hurt and defeated.”

“I was stupid.”

“You are not.”

I scoff, reaching over and pausing her. My smile is meant to be gentle, but it feels so plastic. “Aqua, do you think I’m stupid?”

“I don’t.”

I’ve expected her to half-smirk, where she tells me, Sometimes. “Really?”

“You overthink,” she simply puts. “But you assume the best. You know, that makes you a better person than me.”

Ha. No. “No. I’m not better than you. Not by a long shot.”

She hums. “I’m just correct more often.”

“But I left you.”

“And I kicked your trust in me in the shins. Are we going to keep count of all the unfriendly things we’ve done? How different would it have been if I didn’t accuse you of things that weren’t true?”

“How different would it be if I had just stayed with you?” I realize I shouldn’t have asked the moment I finish.

In a trance, Aqua inspects the beaker with the spices and sugars I’ve concocted, deciding what I’d done is good enough and dumping them into her unmixed dough, stirring, giving her hands something to do, while I wait for the onslaught. “Probably avoided the last twelve years.” I wince. “Or it could have made no difference. We could have ended up the same, or worse, or better.”

I say, “You don’t believe that,” before stopping myself.

“I was taught to respect Xehanort, too.” 

“We were taught to recognize the Darkness.”

“Which I also failed at.”

“Clearly.”

“I did. I looked for it inside you where I should have placed my faith instead. I regret every moment I did.” She puts the bowl down, a slap of wood against marble. “We don’t help ourselves by obsessing about it a million times.”

“But you’d help me if you let me apologize. To you especially.”

She whips around with nothing to retort, fresh tears short of falling. “To me especially?”

“Ven deserves something of his own. Please.”

She drops her hands together. Swallows. Nods. 

I bow, watching droplets land near my shoes. “I should have been there for you. I should have been stronger. I should have realized what was happening sooner, and I thought I did. I thought I did what I could, and I was there with you in the Graveyard, but it wasn’t enough, and for all the years I didn’t know, I should have found a way to learn and pay you back for what you’ve sacrificed for me. I should have eased your pain, I should have brought you back to the Light. I was focused on myself when I should have lifted you up, and I disappeared when you needed me most. I should have done more, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Silence passes the time and I look up to see what she thinks. She’s wetting the washcloth, dabbing my eyes. “Do you feel better?” she asks.

“Kind of.” I’m beat up after taking all those shots, but I’m lighter, free to breathe without the nagging suspicion that I don’t deserve to. 

“One of the things I wished for when I was in the Realm of Darkness was to smell sugar again. I wanted to hear you give me a list of reasons why it’s bad for my body, and I wanted to tell you why it’s good for the heart.” I let her dab my cheeks, the dampness frigid against my skin. “Now that I’m back home, I don’t need any other wish granted.” She sniffs, about to pour the batter into its mold, but then flicks the oven off exasperatedly. “I forgot. I have to wait for the dough to rise.” For some reason that finally breaks her. It tears me apart as well, and I have to hold her shoulder so we don’t rip down the middle. 

“Please don’t cry,” I say, offering the washcloth. “I care too much about you to sit here and watch you cry.”

She stops. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” I let go and stare at her blended mix, smooth as cream. 

“That’s not fair,” she says, throwing the washcloth onto the counter. “I have no choice with what I say. You could at least answer me honestly.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you cry anymore.” Nor do I want to tell her the truth. Instead I hide it on the back of my neck, where I rub into it so it doesn’t spill over. And yet, that makes me feel more guilty now than I have in weeks. 

“I should make you swallow a truth potion.”

“I wanted us to be equals.” She saves her usual response and waits for me to continue. I close my eyes. “Go through all the same experiences with you. We were supposed to stick together, do everything together. Failing the Mark of Mastery took all of that away from me. Or at least it felt that way at the time. And I wanted more. I wanted…” My hand finds nothing as it waves in the air searching for the words to spell it out. “I don’t know what to say. Everything I’ve done and didn’t do pale in comparison to you.”

“We’re not doing this. We’re not comparing ourselves.”

“No, I mean…” What the stars am I supposed to say? “You’re more important to me than you understand.”

“And you’re just as important to me.”

“No… it’s different with me.” And I’ve said too much, Aqua holding her elbows and expecting me to continue. There’s no other trail to go down than the one I’ve started. “I meant what I said at the preliminary feast.”

“Excuse me?”

The feast where the Master celebrated our achievements, announcing that we’re at last ready for the final test. Where Ven and I squeezed ourselves into suits and he complained the entire night about being itchy. Where I spent it staring at her dress. When I said she looked pretty and then avoided her for the rest of the party.

I don’t say anything about that night and she hears something anyway.

“That’s why…” She glosses over me with wide eyes as the realization makes me look like a stranger. “You should have said something to me.”

“You can’t be serious.” I wave her away.

“But all these years, I didn’t know.”

Good, if we’re talking about the same thing. “I couldn’t have told you anything.”

“Then how was I supposed to figure that out?”

What are we talking about now? “What exactly did you expect me to do?” 

“You should have kissed me.” She covers her mouth, wincing at what slipped out. She keeps her chin high anyway, casually crossing her arms and pretending that her face hasn’t reddened the deep shade staining her cheeks. As long as it stays up.

We pass an unspoken conversation between each other, frozen and unwilling to move.

Did you just—?

I did.

I manage to exhale. “You’re right.”

There’s a moment of shock on her face before I hold her and lean forward. It happens so quick that I don’t register what she tastes like before I realize that I’m clamping my hands on her biceps, two bent rods leaning on each other.

“That was awful,” I say.

“No, it’s—” she laughs.

“Bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I always thought it’d go different.”

“Always?”

Well, I’ve run out of words. “I guess.” When I let her go, she reaches for my chest and lifts onto her toes, kissing me back but with care and intention this time, filling my lips with hers. They taste like Aqua, smell like her shampoo. They’re softer than her hands and face, sweet enough for me to want more. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands until I settle them in the sway of her back. I let her take the lead, take another kiss, tug at my neck. She trembles from the frozen touch of my skin and from the hold of my hands on her body. My muscles are getting warm, too warm but I like it and I think she knows. Earlier this morning, I held her this close, but this is closer. It’s easy and difficult at the same time. 

Then I remember and pull away. “Ven is listening to us.”

There’s a bump on the door as it’s pushed when he kicks himself off, heavy footsteps running down the hall. 

Aqua looks like she’s touched feces. “Ven!”

I follow her, wondering if she’s going to summon her Keyblade but that’s because of how fast she’s walking, like she has a mission, no Heartless left standing. We turn a corner, down a hall of antique vases and ancient cupboards carved from our first masters. Wood creaks nearby. 

She holds her palm up like she’s holding a chalice, and flames lick the cupboard closest to us until it rattles and spits Ven out. He scrambles onto his feet and brandishes his finger, testing our distance as if he’d poke us in a duel. 

“I still have my last question and it’s in your best interest not to threaten me.”

“Oh really? Tell me again how you’re going to protect yourself when you sleep,” she says.

He grounds himself before giving his performance of, “Do you want to see Terra naked?”

Aqua trembles from her head to her knees, her cheeks blotting a strong shot of red. She throttles forward and cups both of her hands onto her mouth like she’s going to sneeze. What sounds like a loud goose honk blows out as the answer. 

“That was awesome.” Ven slaps his thigh, turning on his heel and leaving a trail of giggles. 

I’m scared to say anything, in case she honks at me. So I wait. There’s just no way to make myself seem small, or leave without disturbing her. Maybe if I hold my breath, she’d feel like she has privacy. She’s panting, giving me side glances but never looking directly at me, that nose of hers wilting towards the floor. 

I open my mouth to say something—

She growls and I clutch my lips together. Aqua pulls her Gummiphone out of her pocket, jabbing a message.

Mine rings. 

 Aqua

Let’s find a potion that dyes his hair pink

 She clears her throat, before flipping it over and typing again.

 Aqua

Don’t tell him it was my idea

 “Okay,” I say, testing the word. Even though I soften it, it still bangs like a gong. I don’t know what else to do except smile at her. She grimaces back, no doubt the last several words spoken still ringing in her ears, just as they do in mine. I even hesitate when I hold her elbow—would it ever be the same, or will every touch mean something different? I don’t voice those questions. 

She moves by reflex: first to flinch, then to hold me by my elbow, mirroring me, which isn’t the most comfortable position. She follows my forearm to my hand, knitting our fingers together, and we stand there, adjusting how they fit. Mine are long and thick, dwarfing and burying hers, an oversized pouch for a gem. They fit perfectly, I think. 

“We can find something better,” I say, looking for anything to distract her. “There’s also those books to read, and the robe to fix. The brownies you’re making—”

“It’s supposed to be cinnamon bread,” she mumbles.

Yech. “Nothing I’d eat anyway.”

Her chuckle is partial, contorted and pressed. 

“I can make some beef jerky for everyone. Spice it up,” I say. She hides an amused whimper behind her hand and massages her cheek. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” 

She nods, offering me a relieved but crooked smile. 

I don’t know if we should walk the castle hand in hand, so I splay it between her shoulder blades and lead the way. We walk in silence, and I’m okay with that if it helps her. No questions, her head up high like everything is back to normal. We steal glances and do a terrible job at hiding our giggles behind small talk, which is botched and jittery anyway, but there’s not much to say without asking, So… how old were you when you realized?

One of these nights, I’ll tell her I’d like to see her naked, too, when the time is right and the truth comes easier.

[highkeyweeb]

Debunking Edens Zero Misconceptions

With the recent announcement of the Edens Zero anime I keep seeing the same questions, confusions, and common misconceptions on absolutely every platform I go on. I thought it’d be helpful to compile them all in one place and try to clear up some things people genuinely seem to be confused about. With Edens Zero being the third work from Mashima, it’s subject to some... opinionated responses. I wanted to create a list of actual facts and information because it’s important for others to be able to learn about it without the individual biases of internet haters / supporters being involved.

If there are any questions you yourself have, or others that you’ve seen commonly asked or given incorrect responses to, feel free to leave a reply and I’ll try to update the list when I get the chance. Also, feel free to share this with anyone you know who might be confused or need clarification, the more factual information we can spread the better.

Lastly, I’ll be staying as spoiler free with this as possible, so if you’ve never seen Edens Zero, or are contemplating watching it, this won’t spoil anything plot wise whatsoever. If anything, I think it would be helpful to read this before getting into the series so you’ll be somewhat prepared for what you’ll see, but that’s up to you.

This is gonna be a monster of a post, so check it out under the cut below!

[Updated: Jan 20, 2021]

Just a tiny disclaimer: I’m not going to be answering questions such as “is this as good as Fairy Tail?” or “is the story writing better than Fairy Tail’s?” because that is extremely subjective. I can make a post similar to this one about my feelings about the series in response to questions like that if anyone is interested, but at least here, I’m aiming to be as factual as possible.

Why does this look like Fairy Tail?

I’ll be honest, it was hard to choose a first question to start this out with. But I believe that this is the best possible place to start.

The reason that Edens Zero looks similar to Fairy Tail (in terms of art style) is because the authors of both series’ are the same guy: Hiro Mashima. Just by looking at Edens Zero, there are notable similarities stylistically and character design wise in relation to some of his older works. So that’s where that familiar feeling is coming from when you look at Edens Zero.

Why are some of the characters in Edens Zero the same as characters in Fairy Tail?

Short answer: They’re not.

Long answer: There are characters in Edens Zero that are specifically designed to resemble characters from Fairy Tail. It’s not coincidence, or even a lack of creativity. Mashima would like people to be able to make connections and draw similarities between the characters of all his works. That being said, he makes sure to include differences between them so that his audience knows they are not the same characters.

If you’re concerned about the personalities of the characters in Edens Zero closely relating to those of Fairy Tail characters, then the series has already given us little to no need to worry. Where a character may fall short of a completely unique design, they often make up for it with their distinct personality and their backstory. A character that has a striking resemblance to one you already know might be an entirely different person in Edens Zero.

So when you look at the protagonists of the series, and they remind you of some familiar faces, those familiar faces are exactly who Mashima wants you to think about. But that isn’t to say they are mere “clones” of the people who came before them. And that goes for more than just the protagonists actually, but they’re the most notable similarities early on.

Is the Happy in Edens Zero the same Happy as the one in Fairy Tail?

No, the Happy in Edens Zero is NOT the same Happy as the one in Fairy Tail. Yes they have the same name and similar designs, but they are different people (cats?) with different backstories and different companions.

Why is Happy even in Edens Zero?

He’s the companion character. Mashima dabbled with making him a different species, but ended up settling on a classic fan favorite design. He sees Happy sort of like his mascot, since he has now represented both Fairy Tail and Edens Zero.

If you look closely, there are other non human characters who pop up from Fairy Tail, as well as Mashima’s eldest animated series, Rave Master.

Does Edens Zero happen in the same universe as Fairy Tail? Alternate universe? (Fairy Tail in space? Fairy Tail in the future?)

The Fairy Tail and Edens Zero universes are completely separate. Edens Zero is not a Fairy Tail time skip, nor are any of the characters in any way related to Fairy Tail characters. (If me hinting at it wasn’t enough: Eden’s Zero is not Fairy Tail Next Generation)

Alas, that would mean that the male protagonist is not the secret love child of Natsu and Gray, but you’re free to write as much fanfiction about that as you like!

Is Edens Zero a continuation/spin-off/reboot/sequel to Fairy Tail?

Edens Zero is a fully original work, unrelated to the story of Fairy Tail. (Does it feel like the millionth time I’ve said that, because it should). So no, it’s not a continuation. Edens Zero also doesn’t qualify to be a spin off because it’s not a subset of Fairy Tail; it isn’t the Fairy Tail story or world twisted / changed in any way because Edens Zero is a standalone piece. 

It also stands to reason that based on everything I’ve already said, it isn’t a Fairy Tail reboot either. Edens Zero will take you on a completely different story, because the two series’ aren’t linked. And finally, no, Edens Zero is not a sequel to Fairy Tail because guess what? Fairy Tail actually has a canon sequel! It’s a biweekly manga series that goes by the name ‘Fairy Tail 100 Years Quest’. So logically, Edens Zero can’t be a Fairy Tail sequel when one already exists.

(Also, per the dictionary definition of the word “ripoff” – an act or instance of stealing off of another – Edens Zero doesn’t qualify. You can’t really steal something you already own.) 

End Note:

Edens Zero is the third work from Hiro Mashima getting an anime, and it’s understandable that there’s a lot of confusion around it. Especially after the PV dropped and it was clear that the art style was very similar. And not to mention everyone losing their minds when they saw Happy in this strange new world. All of a sudden it raises these questions and there isn’t really a definitive place to get answers. 

At this point I’m sure I sound like a broken record. But I’ll repeat these things as many times as needed to clear up the misconceptions and misinformation being spread around. As new people get introduced to Edens Zero, they will likely be asking these same questions for years to come. So I found it useful to just try and catch the problem now while it’s still new.

If the day ever does come where Mashima tells us it was all a hoax, everything was a lie, and he was playing us like an instrument the entire time... then I’ll be sure to update this.

Again, there are probably plenty of questions that I never touched on so feel free to comment anything else you or others need clarification on! I was doing some research for this and wow, Google really isn’t spoiler free, is it? Which is obvious, because it’s just a machine, but I hate that even if someone wants more information on something, looking it up is out of the question because that would give them spoilers about some pretty crucial plot details. That makes me feel awful, as a person who absolutely hates spoilers. So I want this to be a compact, spoiler free, factually based post about a lot of the common questions in the Edens Zero fandom.

Thanks for reading!!