#when the thrift store was open they gave me this big plastic bag of a tangled mess of yarn fhfkdl

[piplupod]

take a grocery storage crate found by a dumpster and a bit of duct tape to fix 'er up, and BOOM ! yarn storage !!!

[skellyflowers]

Shopping DLC

Thank you to the tags on this post you inspired me.

Vessel 

“I think I found the one Darling.” I call out Vessel. 

I walked out of the dressing room to show him the outfit I chose. He was just where I left him. On the ‘boyfriend bench’. He had been there since we walked into the store. I know Vessel isn't one for shopping but I hoped he would look around a little bit. 

“What do you think?” I asked.

He put his hand on his chin and really looked at me. He even had me do a little spin.

“You look perfect, Love.”

“Thank you.” I blush. “Are you getting anything?”

“No.”

II

I was surprised that II even wanted to go shopping with me.  He is more of an online shopper. Unless it's shoes. Or drums.

As I browsed around I saw II walk away. Good, maybe he saw something he liked. After a few minutes he came back to me with a bag in his hands.

“You already got something?” I ask.

“Yes.” He answers. Opening the bag to show me.

In the bag is a plastic bag that says ‘black comfort fit. 5 count.’

I let out a sigh. I saw this coming but I will not stand for it. I then grab his hand and pull him back to the men's section. II made a sound of confusion but I ignored it. I'm going to get him something nice.

III

I should have seen this coming. When III said we should go to a place known as ‘The World's Largest Thrift Store.’ I should have expected to lose track of him. The store had three floors and a basement.

I sent him a text after I realized he wasn't on the main floor with me. He said that he went up to the men's floor. So I walked up the stairs to look for him.

You would think it would be easy to find a 6’5 man. But you (and I) would be wrong. When I don't see him I assume that he is in the changing room. I sent him another text letting him know where I am.

Soon after I see him walking up to me from somewhere in the store. Same goofy smile that I love. When did he get a cart? It is FULL of clothes!

“Where have you been, Tiny?” He asked.

“You're the one who disappeared.” I said.

“Well, since we're at the changing room, try these on.” he says, showing me a big stack of clothes. 

“Are you going to be here when I get out?” I asked.

“Well I still need to get to the bottom floor. You all need shoes.”

I just roll my eyes, smile at him and go in to try on the clothes.

IV

It's not often that IV really wanted to go shopping. He sees clothes as an investment.  So he only gets pieces that will last him a long time. He only regularly shops for shoes and under clothes.

He is a great shopping partner. The whole time IV stayed nearby. He held onto the things I wanted to buy and also made suggestions. The only time he left my side was to get a closer look at something that caught his eye.

When I was in the changing room IV had brought me some things he wanted me to try on. It was a red bodysuit, black distressed shorts and a black cropped sweater with a starry pattern.

At some point when I was trying on the outfit he gave me IV had picked up a black leather jacket. When I got closer to show off the outfit I could see that the jacket had the same pattern embossed on the leather.

“You look amazing Babe.”

“Thank you Ivy.”

“Wait here I saw some shoes that would go perfect with that.”

[lifeofroos]

Part 49. Lets be real, things that are free taste ever so slightly better.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico tries to find Christmas gifts people he cares about with Will. The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net! And also in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, therapy etc. 

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 49: Free chocolate milk

‘And then suddenly it’s Christmas.’ I looked around. New York looked like the Christmas elves had dropped a bag of joy over it. 

Will looked at me. ‘Not to scare you, but the city has been looking like this since Halloween.’ 

‘I try to ignore that.’

Will sighed and laughed at the same time. ‘Sure. Come now, you needed to buy Christmas presents, we should get to buying them.’

‘Yes, of course... hey!’ He grabbed my arm and pulled me along, further into the heart of New York.

‘They really were just too lazy to name these streets.’ 

Will sighed. ‘No.’ He looked at  his phone. ‘It is way easier to find out where the streets are. You just follow the number.’

‘I guess. Which street are we on now?’ I looked around, but I didn’t see a number anywhere. Will narrowed his eyes, while still looking at his phone. ‘If I am correct, we are on thirty-third.’ 

‘Ah.’ I took a step back when two screaming children ran past me, followed by a tired looking mother. ‘We need to go to Jackson village, too. I don’t mean Sally Jacksons’ place, but the actual, physical part of town.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Free drinks at Denny’s.’

Will grinned. ‘Those are always welcome. Also, Google Maps gave me the directions I asked for. Let’s go.’ 

I had to give Will some credit, he chose his boring chocolates rather quickly. Why he had to go to all the way to New York for them was beyond me, though. 

Will handed me a tiny felt box. ‘Alright. We should go with the subway, then maybe we can actually reach Jackson village before Christmas. Here, eat.’ I opened the box. It had two heart-shaped chocolates in them.

‘Will, that is kinda sappy.’ I put the bonbon into my mouth. ‘And I like sappy sometimes. Alright. Can we get out of the subway a few stops earlier than necessary? I am not entirely sure what to get people, so I want to see a few shops.’

‘I mean, I was thinking of going to a dollar store to buy things for the Camp gift exchange, and we could go to an outlet if you wanted something for Reyna, Hazel or Percy…’

‘Hm. For camp a dollar store is good, and maybe I can even find some fun things for my friends as well. For Hazel I already bought a knitted raccoon hat, though. And I will not buy your present while you are standing right next to me.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Perhaps.’ 

‘Alright. Come, I see a subway station over there.’ 

Even though they are probably the grossest and busiest places in New York, I kind of liked the undergrounds. Kind of stupid, but well, they were under the ground.

We got out and went up to street level again. Lo and behold, there was a dollar store right across the street. 

‘I always wonder how they can stuff even more garbage into stores like those then they can into IKEA,’ I thought out loud, while we crossed the street. Will shrugged. 

‘Talent, I guess.’  

‘Talent? Oh, what. At least I will be able to find something Percy will go absolutely insane for that costs me nothing more than a measly dollar.’

‘Last time I was in the dollar store, they had dolphin shaped candy boxes.’

‘If they have those again, I’ll take two. Otherwise Percy will complain that his dolphin-shaped candy box is lonely.’

Maybe it was all trash, but it was easy trash. Packed with presents for almost everyone we cared a little or slightly more than a little about, we got out of the dollar store. 

‘So, that was quite productive,’ Will mentioned. He was carrying the plastic bag with our stuff. 

‘Yes.’ I looked around, at the other stores. Somewhere, they were bound to have something.

‘What I did not say before is that I am actually looking for something for Dionysus. I do not know if he celebrates Christmas, but I do know it is his birthday.’

‘The 25th of December?’

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, basically, Jesus just took over his birthday?’

‘Yes. I don’t know how he feels about it.’ Maybe I’ll ask. 

Will hummed. ‘I think it is pretty difficult to find something for a god, though. That being said, I do think Dionysus will be happy no matter what.’

‘Maybe...’  

‘Oh, here is a thrift store!’ Will pointed . We stopped walking. ‘Do you mind if we go there for a second? I need something they might have there.’ 

‘Are you entirely sure what that thing is?’

‘You never do with thrift-stores.’ I sighed. 

‘Yeah, true.’ I wrapped my arm around his waist while we went in.

It was a pretty big thrift store and it clearly didn’t just sell regular mortal junk. I wandered off, while Will searched through the old books. 

I ended up in the jewelry section. It looked as if both an old grandma and her six year old granddaughter had just given away all of their jewelry. All I saw was ancient-looking pearl necklaces and pink fairy rings. 

I looked in a few drawers of an old cupboard. It was all clearly not worth much, otherwise it would not be laying out in the open, but it sure looked shiny. 

In one of the drawers, I found an earring. I could not find its better half, but it did look a lot like something Will had shown me that he wanted to buy but could not find anywhere. 

I let it roll from one hand into the other. Was it dangerous to gift your boyfriend jewelry from a thrift store that radiated weird energy? Maybe. But the earring itself did not do so. 

I dug slightly deeper, looking around for more stuff the people who were worth more than dollar store gifts would appreciate. Now that I took a good look at it, the jewelry cabinet was kind of a goldmine, no pun intended. I even found a small, gold necklace for Reyna (Probably fake-golden, otherwise it would not be lying around in a random cabinet-drawer, but still). 

Eventually, I looked up and saw a small glass cabinet. There was a brooch on display that made me unable to stop looking at it. I did not recognise the gemstone they used, if it was even a real gemstone, but it was a deep purple. The brooch was shaped like, vines running past and over each other. 

The thing cost only five dollars. It was as if the universe was pushing me to get it (But I could have imagined that).

In the background, I heard Will say something to the seller (Who did not sound entirely like human to me). Slowly, I walked past the shelves, hoping I could somehow buy what I wanted without Will noticing. 

After a few seconds, I felt a tap on my shoulders. I turned around. There was a second not-entirely-human seller standing behind me.

‘You want what you are currently holding and the purple brooch without your boyfriend over there noticing , is that right?’ He asked, in a coarse voice. 

‘Eh, yes,’ I whispered.  

The seller grinned. ‘I get it, youngling. You saw the prices. Twenty dollars and it is all yours.’

I had no idea whether those were the actual prices, but twenty dollars was not super expensive, so I handed it to him. He unlocked the glass cabinet, got out the brooch, I put everything into the pocket of my coat and joined Will again.

The seller, who Will was just done with, looked exactly like the seller I had spoken to had. Will grabbed my hand and we walked out. I looked over my shoulder as Will opened the door. The seller winked at me.

‘Sad that you did not find anything ,’ Will said, while we made our way over to Denny’s.

‘Oh well,’ I answered, while I squeezed his hand. 

‘Nico!’ Mary smiled widely when she looked at us. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’

‘Yes!’

‘Well, he is adorable.’ She winked and gave us two free hot chocolates. ‘As promised.’

I was not above getting free hot chocolate, so I thanked her and we sat down one booth further from the booth I usually sat with Dionysus. The Denny’s was busier around this time. 

Will looked around. ‘There is a Dionysus-vibe here.’

I nodded and took a sip. ‘Oh yes. There always is.’ 

Will smiled and pulled his legs onto the couch. ‘I think that was a productive day, Nico. I think I’ve got almost everything I need. ’

‘Me too.’ I grinned, which left Will eyeing me suspiciously. 

A/N: Fun Fact: there are barely any subways in the Netherlands. We have busses, trains and trams (In some cities), but no subways. 

It has never been academically proven that the 25th is Dionysus birthday. There is no proof whatsover. Don’t go around quoting me on that, because it is a Tumblr thing, NOT PROVEN!

Aside from maybe a little general magic, the jewelry is not cursed. Just calming you down there. 

Tell me how do you all see Dionysus? Because during writing I have constantly had the young, mythological version in my head. Long black hair, purple eyes, frail, basically not what Rick Riordan described. That is why I have been calling him Dionysus and not Mr. D, because that ain’t him to me. 

This isn't really a therapy chapter but shhh it shows Nico is healing.

[ionlydatesassyelves]

mods are asleep post more gay drabbles it's the only flavor i can write

modern human au where L and Luigi are seperate people who have to deal with each other, and then they also have to deal with Dimentio. because that's the only other flavor i can write.

((will format correctly in the morning because fuck tumblr mobile))

~~~~~

L wasn't entirely certain when a street performer had set up a magic show in front of his mechanic shop, but it didn't seem to be driving away business, so for now he ignored it. For several weeks, actually, he did a stellar job of ignoring it.

The performer stopped him one day on his way into work, sauntered into his path before the crowd with a dazzling smile. He conjured a rose for L and offered it with a bow, the trick met with cheers and applause.

L scoffed and moved to step around the attention whore, but his path was blocked again. "Not one for flowers, then?" the shorter man sang. He pulled the scarf from his own neck, wrapped it around the delicate rose, and pulled it away with a flourish.

He now held a bouquet of rusty wrenches and screwdrivers wrapped in colorful paper.

L couldn't help it, he laughed, the whole crowd laughing and applauding as well. The man bowed again, and this time L accepted the gift, and he was at last allowed to go on his way.

He pulled the bouquet apart once he entered the shop--not excellent tools, gathered probably from the dump, but the gesture was still hilarious. Once L had unwrapped the paper, he found a card nestled among the tools. No number to call, no elaboration on the givers identity. Only a name.

"Dimentio"

L tried very hard not to hope Dimentio would be hanging around outside his shop again, but he couldn't help being glad to see the thin boy stood up on a box and talking excitedly to the crowd before him.

L elected to spare five minutes to be late for work and watch a couple of Dimentio's tricks. Dimentio smiled when he spotted him in the crowd, asked him to pick a card at one point and summoned it from a little girls knit cap. The girl was delighted, her mother twofold, and she let the little girl hand Dimentio a sizeable tip at the end of the show.

L was more than disappointed he couldn't spare the cash to at least tip Dimentio. He knew Luigi often liked to leave a parting gift for hard working performers that had made him smile, and Dimentio had done that two days in a row. Which was not an easy feat, given L's situation.

The thought pressed firmly at the back of his mind all day. Eventually, he decided to take an early lunch and bolted to catch Dimentio outside.

The performer was gathering tricks and props into a worn duffle bag by this hour, moving onto a different spot. L called out to him before he could go, and Dimentio seemed surprised to see him again.

"I'm afraid you've missed the encore," he teasingly replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Nah, I got enough of your flashy tricks, thanks," L returned. He jogged over to meet Dimentio on the corner, and it was more apparent without the box that Dimentio stood more than a full head shorter than him. It was also more apparent he wasn't wearing shoes.

L frowned down at the sidewalk, taking in the boys pale toes and wondering if he was okay. It wasn't the coldest of the year yet, but it was still far from warm.

Dimentio shifted in place, seemingly eager to get on. He smiled at L anyway. "To what do I owe the pleasure then?"

L ran a hand through his messy hair. He was never very good at this. "You eat yet?"

There was a laugh, and L smiled again. It was different than the stage laugh. Dimentio choked on it a little suddenly, and his voice cracked on the end of it. "Was than an invitation?"

L snorted and jerked his head over his shoulder, walking back towards his shop. He was thrilled that Dimentio followed him.

There wasn't much to the shop, but there was a small, worn couch tucked away in a tiny back room where L could retreat to relax and warm up a little. Dimentio left his pack at the door and happily settled onto the couch with his legs folded under him. L tried not to sit too close to him, but it was difficult to not squish in the small space.

L brewed hot coffee for them both and they shared the sack lunch L had brought for the day. He tried to get Dimentio to eat the whole sandwich, insisting he could make something later, but Dimentio refused to touch more than half of anything.

They sat and talked in the warm little nook for some time longer than they probably should have, but eventually Dimentio went on his way.

L didn't mean to go on and on to Luigi every time this happened afterwards, but eventually Luigi encouraged him to take enough food for L and Dimentio to both have a decent lunch. Gradually, their dates became routine enough that Dimentio swung by the shop even when he had been performing elsewhere that morning.

L didn't quite realize he had a crush until the afternoon the windchill picked up and he gave Dimentio an old coat. It swallowed him up, but he had thanked L sincerely, and stood on tiptoes to give L a kiss on the cheek before he left that day. L didn't want to admit he had spent the rest of the day finding his fingers softly touching the spot, but he did.

It was three dates after that when L finally worked up the nerve to scoot closer to Dimentio on the couch and kiss him fully. Dimentio was so quick to slide his arms around L and return the deep kiss. They wound up making out on the couch, and it wouldnt be the first time.

------

Luigi got to meet Dimentio three weeks after the first time L had invited him to lunch. Usually he kept to the quiet, shambly part of the city, but he'd been visiting a friend on that end of town and ran into Luigi on his way to work, mistaking him for L. They had laughed at the mix up, but Luigi was glad to meet Dimentio at last, and Dimentio was thrilled to discover L had been talking about him.

Dimentio had neglected to tease L about it later that day, but when Luigi told him that night his boyfriend was indeed very cute, the flowers and lovebites L had to come home with suddenly made sense.

Luigi and L both began to look forward to Dimentio brightening their days, either in the silly gifts he would conjure for Luigi before work, or the warm kisses he snuck around L's shop to steal. It wasn't uncommon for Dimentio to come up in conversation while Luigi and L ate dinner together.

Winter rolled around, and they began to wonder more and more where Dimentio called home. If he was safe at night, or at least warm.

L stayed up later pacing some nights, wondering where Dimentio might be and if he was okay. Some days his make out session with the preformer turned into something more, and L could give Dimentio an hour or more of warmth and comfort. But Dimentio always left into the bitter cold with L's old jacket pulled tight around his thin form, bare feet against the cold sidewalk, but no less a spring in his step or spark in his smile.

L began working late and hoarding spare change, cutting little treats for himself where he could to gather up a little bit of extra cash. When Luigi finally asked what he was up to, if he needed help with anything, L admitted he wanted to get Dimentio something warm to wear. At least some new shoes. Luigi gave him the sweetest, warmest smile, and began working overtime as well, adding extra tips to L's fund.

L was beyond tickled the day he finally could lead Dimentio into his worn shop hand in hand. After they ate and exchanged their usual quips, L reached behind the couch and handed Dimentio a very large plastic bag. They couldn't do much to wrap the gift, but Dimentio took it with a bewildered grin. "What is this, now?"

"Call it an early Christmas..." L muttered, sitting back and trying to appear as casual as possible. He was sitting on pins and needles, praying Dimentio didn't notice.

Dimentio eagerly set to digging through the bag, but his motions soon slowed. He pulled out two large, fluffy sweaters in bright colors, and a wool scarf with matching hat, holding all the items in a bundle against his chest. He turned and gave L a shaky smile, like he was waiting for the punchline. "...is this for me?"

"Yeah, it's for you," L almost laughed. "Don't want you to fuckin blow away in the wind out there."

Dimentio turned very quickly back to the gifts in his lap. He looked like he might cry. He busied himself instead pulling the box from the bottom of the bag and opening the lid with a quiet gasp.

"They're a little worn..." L apologized as Dimentio ran his fingers thoughtfully over the black boots. "We found them at a thrift store but, uh... I really didn't want you to freeze..."

Dimentio smiled, and choked a little. "I love them." he said quietly.

He tried them on, and they were a size too big, but only half a size with the colorful wool socks Luigi had tucked into the box. They were big and bulky especially since Dimentio didn't bother lacing them, but they somehow suited him when he kicked his legs back and forth on the couch, and L couldn't help smiling.

He pressed his face into L's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around the larger man. "I love them," he repeated.

L tried not to respond "I love you too."

Dimentio hung out around the shop the rest of the day, leaving only when L locked up for the night. L insisted he might as well come over for dinner, but Dimentio fidgeted anxiously and insisted he couldn't owe L any more favors.

L wrapped both arms around Dimentio and kissed him slow and deep. "You don't owe me. Just stay safe, okay?"

Dimentio winked, adjusting his scarf around his face to hide the bright blush coloring his cheeks. "No promises."

L bit his lip, but he steeled his nerves and tightening his grip before dimentio's fingers could slip from his. He had to know. "You got somewhere warm to sleep right?"

Dimentio gave L a peck on the cheek and squeezed his hand. "I'll find somewhere."

And then he left.

L couldn't sleep that night.

The thought of Dimentio huddled in the freezing streets was keeping him up. He had already been sick with worry, but previously he could chalk it up to paranoia. Now it had been confirmed, Dimentio was homeless. It wasn't fair. Nothing was in this awful city, but that especially tore L up.

Four times, L almost asked Luigi if he could invite Dimentio to stay. But every time he tried to come up with a reason, he felt like he was asking to keep a dog, which was both insulting to Dimentio's independence and throwing another burden on Luigi. L hated both of those things, so four times, he shut his mouth.

The fifth time had been an impromptu trip to the grocery store, stocking up on essentials. L had commented idly on people looking like they were preparing for the apocalypse.

"Its probably the storm," Luigi had carelessly reminded him.

"...what storm?" L asked, face melting to horror.

Luigi sighed a little as he compared their cart to their list. "I told you, there's supposed to be a blizzard rolling in tomorrow. They say the streets are going to freeze. Oh--remind me to leave the water running tonight, we're fucked if the pipes freeze too."

L couldn't help his knee jerk response. "Dimentio's homeless."

Luigi's eyes flew up to meet L's, wide and shocked. He knew what that meant. "What?" he asked anyway.

"Dimentio's homeless," L repeated, his voice shaking. "He's out on the streets, I don't think he has anywhere to go."

Luigi took that in for about three seconds, then took a deep, steadying breath. "Let's hurry up here and get this home, then we'll see if we can find him."

-----

Luigi almost wrecked the car when L spotted Dimentio from the passengers seat and just jumped out onto the sidewalk. L ignored the frustrated scolding behind him and bolted towards the performer.

Dimentio had taken shelter from the falling snow on a high slope beneath a bridge, but when L climbed up he discovered that Dimentio was already shivering. He was bundled in several layers, but his nose and ears were already a pale shade of blue.

"Get up, you're coming with us," L said sternly, not waiting for a reply as he grabbed Dimentio's bag and slung it over his own shoulder.

"N-no, L, it's... d-d-don't--" Dimentio tried to stutter out a protest, but he was shivering too hard in the howling wind.

His effort was interrupted by L scooping him up off the ground--all the clothes put together probably weighed more than Dimentio himself. "I don't want to hear it. We're going home."

Dimentio didn't argue with that.

Luigi had managed to stop the car nearby when L struggled back down the hill with Dimentio in his arms. L didn't think much about taking the backseat on the ride home and holding Dimentio in his lap, but the preformer didn't seem very intent on moving, so no one questioned it.

Granted the rickety apartment wasn't much, especially for three people, but anything was better in a blizzard. Luigi took Dimentio immediately into the bathroom and showed him how the shower worked, told him to get clean and more importantly, warm. He left Dimentio a soft towel and some of his own cozy pajamas, and Dimentio still seemed at a loss for words.

While he was in the shower, Luigi made a warm soup for dinner and L busied himself cleaning space in his own room for Dimentio's things and piling spare blankets onto his bed.

Dimentio arrived in Luigi's pajamas and the coat he'd been wearing, and L traded it for a softer hoodie. He was still a little uncertain, but he seemed happier and at least the color of a healthy human again.

The three piled on the couch together and ate soup out of mismatched bowls, watching TV as they chatted late into the night.

Before they headed to bed, Luigi got Dimentio to gather up what little clothes he owned so he could wash them in the morning. Luigi also produced a spare toothbrush for Dimentio they "happened" to have, and certainly hadn't bought that day hoping and praying they would find Dimentio tonight.

Dimentio was grinning ear to ear by the time everyone was getting ready to settle into bed. L insisted Dimentio keep his bed tonight, and went to the couch himself, but the preformer clung to him and bashfully asked if L would be willing to stay.

They snuggled into bed together, squished in the small space, but warm and happy to hold onto each other. They whispered in the dark for several hours before falling asleep, sneaking in soft kisses here and there.

The storm did end up snowing them in for several days, and Dimentio was happier to be in the house with each passing hour. Dimentio taught them both several card tricks, and Luigi taught Dimentio new, flashy ways to shuffle the deck. They traded stories about the ongoing struggle against the upper class, laughed over preparing meals, and snuggled together in the quiet.

On the fifth day, news reports began to state that the worst of the storm had passed, and streets should begin to get clear. The weather in the early morning channels also seemed to indicate that the danger of freezing outside would be gone.

L found Dimentio staring out of a window soon following the newscast, watching the snow fall on the empty streets outside. L sat behind him and slid his arms around Dimentio's thin waist, and the smaller man leaned back against his chest. "So I have bad news," L began with a sigh.

"Mm." was all Dimentio said.

"The truth is, we've kidnapped you," he announced grimly.

Dimentio snorted, and L could just make out his smile in the window reflection. "Is that so?"

"Unfortunately, yes, you've actually been a hostage this entire time," L went on in a deadpan, sarcastic tone. He propped his chin on Dimentio's head, and a sigh ruffled his curly hair. "I'm afraid you're going to have to stay forever."

Dimentio's grin crept a little wider. His hands wandered up and rested over L's. "Unfortunate indeed... and if I were to refuse?"

"Well, Luigi gets attached easily, so you might make him cry," L informed him.

"Hmm. Tragic." Dimentio hummed. "You're not one for tears, are you?"

L shrugged carelessly. "Nah. I'd just drag you back here. What do you weigh, like eight pounds?"

"Probably six," Dimentio agreed. He squeezed the toned muscle of L's forearms latched around his waist and teased "Hardly a struggle, even for a weak shrimp like you."

L laughed into Dimentio's hair, and squeezed the performer tighter against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of Dimentio's head and murmured "I want you to stay. We both do."

Dimentio bit his lower lip - a failed attempt to control the excited grin on his face. His hands squeezed awkwardly around L's wrists, and he sucked in a short, thrilled gasp. "I'd love to," he managed.

[7official7moose7]

Probably one of the most rushed fics I’ve ever wrote!

Yes, here it is! Ladies and gentlemen, individuals alike, I present to you..

(insert drumroll here)

A platonic shopping date between two absolute babies :)

@xgoldentigerlilyx @teyamarra @reid-and-writing I’m very sorry for the quality of this fic, it’s okay at first but then it gets really out of character somewhere in the middle and I was way too lazy to fix it so I hope it’s not too bad-

“Spencer, wait up!”

Reid looked up to see Garcia rushing to the elevator, and he held the door for her. He flashed her a smile as she thanked him.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Garcia asked, and Reid shook his head.

“No, but I do have a book I need to finish before Sunday. Why do you ask?” the elevator stopped, and they both stepped out, making their way outside.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to come with me to the new mall down on East Street. It just opened a couple of days ago, and I wanted someone to go with, if that’s okay with you?”

Spencer thought. I don’t really do shopping. But, she did go with me to that philosophy convention. I owe her.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” he said, “Tomorrow at twelve?”

Penelope threw her fist in the air with a “Yes!” and smiled up at him. “Absolutely, I’ll be there to pick you up on the dot! Thank you, boy wonder!” she said as they neared her car and Reid waved her goodbye as he continued down the sidewalk. Breathing in the warm August air, he smiled.

…

Spencer entered his apartment and sat his bag down beside the door. It was late, around ten or so. He flicked on the lights and plopped down on the couch, grabbing a book called Crime Or Clarity by Fiona Dewitt. It was a more simple read, but Spencer was enjoying it so far. He flipped to page 305 and continued where he left off.

“It would not be everyday that Steve Goodway would find himself wondering about his place on this earth. Everything he has accomplished, everything he’s fell short of. Is this really it? Or is there more, just beyond his reach? So, on this very day, he would promise himself that he would keep an open mind and an open heart to anything that calls his name through the brambles and nettle, and he would follow it even when the path doesn’t seem so inviting.”

Tomorrow was going to be a good day.

…

Penelope Garcia awoke at 9:48 a.m. with a smile on her face and a happiness in her heart. She started her day with a warm shower and sweet coffee. After that, she messaged Spencer, asking if he was still up for the mall date. He replied three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later with a “Getting ready now. :)”, and she smiled even brighter.

Garcia couldn’t wait to explore all the new stores and see what kind of crazy cute outfit they had in stock. She couldn’t wait to show Reid all the wonderful wonders of shopping and hopefully find a nice outfit for him. She couldn’t wait to convince him to wear said outfit to the Bureau on Monday.

It was now 11:37 a.m. and Garcia couldn’t wait to pick Spencer up.

…

Spencer Reid waited patiently on the couch, dressed in his usual sweater vest and button-down shirt. It was one minute and fifty-seven seconds after twelve when Penelope knocked on his apartment door, and when he opened it, they greeted each other with smiles and started down the stairs to the first floor. Penelope wore a green floral dress and a jean jacket with a dozen pins and stickers on top. Her black mesh leggings went well with her sparkly black bow and heels. 

They chatted all the way to the car and kept chatting as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“So, how’d you sleep?” Garcia asked.

“Good, I read 393 pages of Crime Or Clarity before I fell asleep on the couch. You?”

“Like a baby. As soon as I got home, I poured myself a glass of wine and I was out after an hour.”

Spencer hummed. “You know, places like a mall are much more hectic during the weekends, especially near holidays. Why do you choose to go during this time rather than waiting for it to clear up?”

Garcia laughed. “I like people watching, it gives me inspiration and a sense of peace, knowing that those people are out living their lives despite all the nasties out there doing bad things.”

“Actually, statistics prove-”

“Hey, let me have this. That’s all I ask of you,” Penelope said. Spencer giggled at her, and she gave him a smug smile.

Before they arrived at the mall, Garcia suggested they stop for lunch after she noticed both of their stomachs were growling. They ordered sandwiches from the nearest deli and sat in the shade of the umbrella on the patio outside the shop. 

Afterwhile, it started to get crowded, so they took it as their cue to get going. It was 1:13 p.m. when they finally found a parking space close to the entrance of the mall. 

…

“Which store first?” 

Spencer shrugged, knowing very little about any and every shop in the building. He looked around and pointed to one that looked interesting.

“What about that one?” he asked, and Garcia followed his eyes to the Way Out Thrift across the hall. She gasped and looked up at him. “You have great taste,” she said as she led him in. 

This thrift store had everything.

Spencer looked around, unsure where to start or even what to look for. Garcia immediately wandered to the clothes section, rummaging through racks of shirts and dresses. She noticed him standing there, so she waved him over and showed him a big beige sweater. “What do you think?” she asked, holding it up against his chest to measure. He took it and examined the fabric. “It’s nice, but this wool is coarse, which can irritate the skin. A finer wool would be better because fine wool sheep produce wool fibers with a very small fiber diameter, usually 20 microns or less.” he rambled on, giving Garcia time to find a light purple turtleneck. “This one’s cotton, what about this one?” she asked, again measuring it on him before he felt it. 

“Cotton fabric is considered better, though some people disagree because of the pesticides. Some cotton is grown with genetically modified seeds and sprayed heavily with Roundup, in which the primary ingredient is glyphosate, which could lead to cancer. But I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, “In fact, I really like the feel of it.”

Garcia smiled. “Good, because this thing is going in your closet!” she said, and Spencer blinked. “I’m paying for it, don’t even think about it,” he said and Penelope gave him a look. “My treat?” she tried to convince him, but he refused. She stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout, which made them both laugh.

After a little more looking around, Penelope and Spencer went to check out. Garcia ended up with a pretty yellow shift dress that Reid suggested, and a small woodpecker figurine for her office. Reid stuck with the purple turtleneck and picked up an additional sweater vest for his collection. Garcia suggested that he try something out of his zone, and he said he’d think about it.

“Where to next?” Spencer asked as they wandered down the hall, passing tons of shoe shops.

“Unless you want a new pair of kicks, maybe we could go up the escalator and see what they have up there,” Penelope joked. 

“Escalator it is,” he said.

…

“Did you know there were thirty-seven deaths in 2014 in China caused by escalator accidents, and a report found that more than twenty-six thousand escalators had safety issues that hadn’t been repaired?”

“No. No, I didn’t know that,” Garcia said, shifting closer to Reid, “And I don’t think I needed to know.”

A couple of people looked at them suspiciously when he said that, and Spencer almost felt bad for saying it out loud. Almost.

Once they made it to the top, all the smells were like a smack in the face. There were multiple food courts, including a donut shop and an icee stand. There was the new car smell, along with some kind of strong fragrance, most likely from a perfume shop. Enough to give them both headaches.

“Jeez, it’s like aroma central up here,” Penelope remarked. Spencer nodded in agreement. 

There were way less clothing stores on the second floor, but there was one store that stuck out to Reid. 

“What’s RetroWear?” he asked, pointing to the sign above the entrance. Garcia hummed. “I’ve never heard of it, it must be a new store,” she said.

“Wow, a clothes store that you’ve never heard of? So rare.”

“Don’t start with me, genius,” Garcia warned with a smirk, “Let’s go check it out, I’m sure they have some absurd piece of luxury clothing in there somewhere!”

Before Spencer could react, Penelope grabbed his wrist and dragged him in.

And oh boy, did that store have the good stuff.

Sweater vests here. Ties over there. Pretty floral dresses in between. And a whole section dedicated to Absurd Pieces Of Luxury Clothing.

“Oh. Em. Goodness,” Garcia whispered, “It’s like the shop gods just read my mind.”

Reid was also pretty impressed, and for the first time that day, he was the first to immediately begin looking at all the outfits. Garcia followed after him, showing him expensive Gucci purses and handbags she found while he presented to her a fuzzy orange sweater that he said would match her orange slice earrings. She gladly accepted it and gave him a nice pair of sunglasses in return.

After a bit of rummaging around in their sections, Penelope and Spencer decided that it was time that they go through the luxury clothes section. Spencer showed her a green and purple romper with plastic rhinestones lining the neck and sleeves, which made her laugh and kindly decline his offer to buy it for her. Next, she showed him a tiny crop top with a band logo on the back and a weed leaf on the front, claiming that it was definitely his style and that she was going to give it to him for his birthday. 

But the best thing they found that day was Spencer’s secret bad boy look.

…

“Hurry up, smart boy! I wanna see that smokin’ hot emo side of yours!”

Spencer sighed from inside the fitting room. “I don’t know, Penelope, it’s not really my style,” he said as he examined himself in the mirror, and Garcia scoffed. “That’s the whole point! Now get out here and let me see it.”

Finally, after a bit of contemplating, Spencer unlocked the door and stepped out. 

Garcia gasped.

He wore a red-and-black striped t-shirt and black skinny jeans with rips at the knees and a big leather jacket on top.

“Well?”

“I love it. I love you. I don’t care what you say, I’m buying that entire outfit for you and you cannot stop me.”

“Penelope, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. And I am. And you’re wearing that into work on Monday.”

“What- No, I can’t! Everyone’s gonna look at me like I’m crazy!”

“Then I’ll wear that ridiculous romper you showed me earlier to make us even.”

Reid rolled his eyes. “You always wear that kind of stuff, they won’t notice,” he said, throwing in a “No offense” after she glared at him. “Oh, everybody in that building knows I don’t do rompers. Trust me, they’ll notice,” she joked. 

After some of convincing, Spencer let her buy the outfit for him, but he wouldn’t let her get the romper. He did, however, manage to pay her back with a fancy new pen to add to her collection.

…

It was now 4:46 p.m. and they were both exhausted. Garcia began to argue with herself about wearing heels around the mall of all places, and Reid’s legs, too, were getting tired. They decided to eat dinner in the food court since neither of them were ready to end the fun just yet.

“These tacos taste funny,” Spencer said, and Penelope shrugged. “Mine tastes fine. Did I order the wrong one? I’m so sorry if I did.”

Spencer smiled. “No, it’s fine. I just haven’t had tacos in a while.”

“That’s a sin. I have vegetarian tacos almost every saturday.”

They both laughed, the sound ringing all throughout the mall. The smiles on their faces were like those of little kids on a playground, and they were living for it.

“Fun fact, most experts state that the first taco was actually invented somewhere between 1,000 and 500 B.C. At the time, the taco was more of an edible spoon, however the first recorded reference to the word taco came about in the 19th century. The first mention of the word taco in the United States didn’t come around until 1905.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Lots of history books. Or this brochure,” Spencer giggled, handing to Penelope the small foldable. She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk. “You’re very funny.”

“Thanks, I try my best.”

“Why don’t you ever joke like this in the bureau?”

Reid shrugged. “I guess it’s because I know that there’s someone in danger out there, and I just can’t bring myself to laugh it off like everyone else.”

Garcia averted her gaze. “Huh. I never thought about it that way.”

“N-not that it’s bad to joke around on the job, I know it helps some people and I’m not putting you down for it, It’s just—different with me I think.”

“Oh, I get that. I do it for the same reason I decorate my desk, it helps me cope with all the horrible things we see on the daily.”

There was a moment of silence, until Spencer spoke again, “How did we end up talking about this?”

Penelope laughed, and suddenly everything was back to sunshine and rainbows. “You mentioned the history of a taco.”

...

Soon, it started to get late. Reid and Garcia had stopped by her place for a couple hours to watch a movie and finish off the wine that she bought out of impulse last friday. It was 7:56 p.m. when Garcia dropped Reid off at his apartment, and she gave him a friendly hug before saying goodbye.

“Oh, and, Spencer?”

“Hm?”

Garcia smiled. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t like the outfit. I know that look when I see it, and I can tell that you’re secretly excited to wear it on Monday.”

Reid felt a light blush settle across his face. “Thanks, Penelope.”

“No problemo, genius boy.”

And with that, Spencer entered his apartment and sat his bag down beside the door. He flicked on the lights and plopped down on the couch, grabbing Crime Or Clarity by Fiona Dewitt off the coffee table. He flipped to page 698 and continued where he left off.

“Goodway would smile wide, wider than he has in a very long time. He would realize then that he doesn’t need this world, and this world doesn’t need him, as long as he has his good friend Mick. Mick, who cares for him, who enjoys his company, and who will go to the ends of the wretched world to be there for him.”

And that night, Spencer Reid also realized that. And he did indeed smile wider than he has in a long while.

[fanfic-inator795]

Oneshot: Movies and Mermaids

((Have some Mikey and Draxum bonding *throws confetti*))

It wasn’t as if Draxum had any genuine interest in human culture, certainly not! He could care less! ...Though, his obvious lack of caring didn’t prevent certain annoyances.

Like how he would be sometimes be completely lost in certain conversations. A member of the faculty at the high school would ask if he had seen the latest film in theaters and if he liked it better than the remake, or how his fellow lunch servers would reference certain shows and encourage him to watch them as well - Gladys especially seemed entranced with a show regarding doctors all dating each other in-between doing their actual jobs, for whatever reason.

The rest of the city seemed to only aggravate him more. From displays and the videos that would play on the large screens on towers, to the advertisements he saw on the television box or in magazines. It just seemed like everything he saw in human culture was a reference to something or someone - a laundry list of names and shows and movies and jokes and even what were supposedly ‘simple’ concepts like technology and brands and lingo and-!

After over two months of living on the surface, Draxum had reached his limit. He was tired of constantly being confused. He was tired of constantly missing or misunderstanding the references.

He was tired of being reminded that this was not his world, that he was still a yokai in human clothing.

So naturally, as a man of science, Draxum thought it only made sense to start with some research. Granted there was an entire pantheon that he would have to go through, and without the power of the ‘internet’ and a television box that only had five channels, it would be a incredibly slow process... At the very least, O’Neil had said that she would help him get a human library card when they both had a free afternoon. 

In the meantime, Michelangelo had plenty of ‘reference material’, and even with the insistence that this was all for education and NOT entertainment, Draxum figured it was as good of a starting point as any, considering how much the humans seemed to admire their on-screen stories and their film stars. (No wonder Lou Jitsu was just as popular as an actor as he was as a warrior...)

It was late Friday night when Mikey showed up to Draxum’s apartment with a backpack full of movies of all different genres and formats and a VHS/DVD combo player tucked under his arm. “Good thing Donnie found this thing a few years ago, huh?” he said as he hooked it up.

Draxum didn’t bother replying. Instead, he was focusing on his choices for that evening - as well as for the rest of the week, since Mikey said he could borrow them as long as he needed to - pulling out each tape or DVD case and examining it carefully. Quite a few of them looked like they were for children, which he probably should have expected, though he didn’t dismiss them immediately.

“Don’t worry,” he heard Mikey said, “I remembered what you said. All of these are super popular ‘staples of human culture’ that practically everyone’s seen.”

“Good,” Draxum mumbled, putting aside a movie about a boat next to a movie about a boy gardener who wore a cloak and was apparently very harry. Picking up the next one, his expression flattened a bit at the cover. “This one you can take back, I don’t need to watch it.”

“Huh? Why- ohhh.” The box turtle chuckled as he took the tape, smiling at the younger version of his dad on the box. “Sorry, guess that one accidentally got slipped in there. Though to be fair, ‘Jitsu for Justice’ is a total classic.”

“Irrelevant,” Draxum huffed, “I have no desire to watch ANY of Lou Jitsu’s films, no matter how popular they may be. Once was more than enough...”

“Alright alright, I’ll- wait,” Mikey paused, “so you DID watch his movies?”

“Er, I- Not because I actually wanted to!” Draxum told him, “It was for research!” Mikey gave him a flat look. “He had stopped fighting in the Battle Nexus and I needed to study his moves! I-I didn’t enjoy doing it, if that’s what you’re implying! His movies were still ridiculous and completely unenjoyable! I would never actually-”

“Whatever you say, man,” Mikey shrugged, ignoring the Baron’s growls at being interrupted, “Though, how’d you watch ‘em anyway? I didn’t think that TV was that big of a thing down there?”

“I used my viewing orb to summon and display them, obviously,” Draxum told him, “Most yokai have them for when they need them, and they’re much more useful and clearer than any television box.”

“If you say so...” “Hmph.” With that settled, Draxum went back to digging through the bag of movies. It didn’t take long for another video to catch his eye, this one in a plastic case rather than a cardboard one, with a picture of a happy mermaid and an equally happy human plastered on it.

“Awwww!” Mikey said suddenly, “That was April’s favorite movie when she was little! Which meant it was one of the first movies she brought over to share with us! Heh, guess we borrowed it so often we forgot to give it back, whoops. But it’s a really good movie! See, there’s this mermaid who wants to live on land as a human, and she’s friends with a crab and-”

Draxum had begun to tune the turtle out as he continued to stare at the VHS case. Mermaids weren’t too common in the Hidden City itself, though that didn’t mean they weren’t there at all. The city was next to water, after all, and some would live on the shore or become part of an air-boat crew - and they certainly didn’t look like this.

He felt his thoughts start to swirl, becoming just as mixed as his emotions as a grimace began to form on his face. On one hand, Draxum supposed he should’ve been grateful that the humans were portraying a yokai positively - as cute and friendly instead of vicious creature that lived to drown humans. 

Centuries ago, before the Great Migration underground, Draxum had heard that and many other similar claims about his people... Baseless claims meant to justify hunts and attacking on sight...

On the other hand, did humans only see them as ‘harmless’ when used for entertainment purposes? Did they only approve of yokai existing when they only existed in fiction, where they could be used however humans saw fit? 

He was briefly reminded of the creatures - the ‘poke-o-mon’ - that he would occasionally see on shirts or on phones, creatures not directly based on yokai, but similar enough. He had to wonder how much other human entertainment was based on so-called fictional creatures and monsters that they never would have even smiled at before.

“-xum... Hey, Drax?” Mikey poked his bicep, making Draxum flinch. “You okay, bud-?”

“Fine,” Draxum snapped, though there was a little actual bite to it, “Just surprised that humans would portray a yokai so positively, even in fiction.”

“Most humans do think they’re just fiction,” Mikey told him. After a moment, his tone became a bit gentler, thinking back to certain points brought up by his father and April. “Though, I can still sorta see why that would feel weird or kinda insulting, seeing a fake version of yourself or your people and not knowin’ how they’d react to the real you, wondering if they would only like the fake you. That probably doesn’t feel the greatest... and I’m really sorry about that.”

Draxum blinked. He stared at the turtle for a few seconds before finally replying with, “You’re a lot more introspective than I would have thought.”

“I get that a lot,” Mikey grinned, “But hey, they don’t call me Dr. Feelings for nothing. So, did you wanna keep this one then, or- I mean, I can understand if-”

Draxum stopped him, looking at the tape again. “...I am admittedly curious,” he said, “You did say this was a movie humans watch as children.” Studying a species’ influences during adolescence could prove to be pretty useful in understanding the adults. “And besides, if the portrayal is truly offensive, I can always send a complaint to this ‘Walt Disney’ and demand certain edits.”

“Riiiiight, though I don’t think you’ll be too mad at this one,” Mikey told him, “Ariel is a great character, and all the other mermaids in the movie aren’t portrayed as jerks or anything. ...Well, one guy kinda is but, uh-”

“Let’s just watch it already,” Draxum told him, shoving the tape into his hand, “The sooner we start it, the sooner I can gauge whether or not it’s actually worth watching.”

Mikey smirked a little. “Heh, alright.” Opening the case, he pushed the tape in while Draxum went over to the couch they had gotten him at the thrift store, briefly checking it for bugs or lumps before sitting down. “Good thing it’s already rewound.”

The only annoying thing about that was that they had to sit through previews, though Mikey used that time to cook up some popcorn kernels that he had snagged on the way out of the Lair, easily cooking it using a pan and the stove top. (No one trusted Draxum with a microwave after That One Time.)

By the time he finished, the movie’s title had just faded onto the screen. Mikey smiled widely, the nostalgia from the music and the memories he had with the movie sending slight shivers up his shell. 

Draxum, meanwhile, was watching the film intently, taking in every detail. The mermaids in the film were still completely different than actual mermaids, but at least they weren’t an insulting caricature (even if they were a bit too human-like for his liking).

As it turned out, the main mermaid character was not only a bit of a collector and explorer, but also a human fanatic. “Ugh,” Draxum grumbled as he grabbed a couple more pieces of the puffed-up corn-snack. Mikey gave him a bit of a look, but he ignored it. Just because he had been able to find a bit of common ground and comradery with his fellow lunch servers didn’t mean he was willing to give ALL humans a pass.

At least the mermaid’s father seemed to have some common sense. In fact, Draxum found himself nodding in agreement with nearly every scene the mer-king was in. ...Up until a certain point, at least.

Mikey winced a bit as the scene began. He resisted the urge to go into his shell like he always had when he was little, but he did sink a little in his seat as Triton stepped out of the shadows. When he noticed Draxum glancing over at him, Mikey simply mumbled, “I always hate this scene...”

A couple minutes and a destroyed grotto later, and Draxum could sort of see what Mikey meant, understanding how Triton’s act might have been “harsh”, as the orange-wearing turtle would’ve put it.

As the movie moved onto the next seen, Mikey relaxed a little, though a frown remained on his face... However, his expression of sadness soon became one of confusion as he felt a hand pat the top of his head.

“Uh... there, there,” Draxum mumbled, giving Mikey one more head-pat before retracting his hand. It was awkward as all heck, they both knew it, but seeing the sheepman somewhat care about his feelings still made Mikey smile.

It didn’t take much longer for Ursula to make her appearance, and as soon as the Sea Witch began talking of deals and trades, Draxum gave a small smirk of his own.

“What?” Mikey asked, tilting his head a bit.

“I didn’t realize Big Mama was in this movie.”

Mikey snorted at that. “So what, you tell jokes now?”

The sheep-man shrugged as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Just making an observation,” he said simply. As the scene went on though, his mind made another small connection - Ursula’s two eels reminding him of his own pair of pets, even if Flotsam and Jetsam were much more confident than his former goyles.

Even so, the reminder made his chest ache a little... Not in sadness, mind you, or because he actually missed them. No, clearly his chest ached for a completely different reason that he was sure he’d think of later.

Once the little mermaid made the contract and silenced herself, the film very much became a literal ‘fish out of water’ story, complete with plenty of amusing moments featuring misunderstandings and an over-abundance of cuteness, as well as another musical number. Thankfully, before things became too saccharine, Ursula launched the second half of her plan to rule the seas.

After that, the movie moved pretty quickly through its third act. Draxum was a bit annoyed at the human prince being the one to ultimately save the day in the end, but overall he could agree that the ending was a pretty happy one.

As the credits rolled, Mikey looked at him with eyes wide. “Sooooo, what do you think?”

Draxum cupped his chin in thought, staying silent for a few moments before finally speaking. “...If the king’s trident had the power of transformation, why didn’t he just turn the prince into a merman?”

Mikey’s face fell. “...That’s what you got out of it?”

“It’s a valid question!” Draxum argued, “Why should she have to be the one to transform?”

“Because she wasn’t just after the guy!” Mikey told him, resisting the urge to facepalm, “You saw her collection and heard her song, she wanted to be human! She was tired of bein’ stuck in the same ocean and wanted something new - something she thought was cool!”

“Hmph, I suppose that’s true... Plus, she still has the option to turn back into a mermaid later on thanks to her father’s power, so at least there’s that.”

The box turtle slumped back on the couch, disappointed though maybe not too surprised. “I guess that means you didn’t really like it, huh?”

There was a long moment of silence. “I didn’t completely agree with the ending but... the film overall wasn’t too bad,” Draxum conceded, “Not as bad as I thought it’d be, at least?”

“...You really mean that?” Mikey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t waste my time lying about something as trivial as animated human-entertainment,” Draxum replied, “And... there were high production values. Characters were mostly understandable, and it was... cute. Not too annoying or insufferable. Even if it was still slightly inaccurate to actual mermaids and mermen.”

“...You know what, I’ll take it. And I’m glad you enjoyed the movie, and not just for my sake.” With a bit of a ‘whup’, Mikey sat up and tucked his legs under his body in a sort of lotus position. “Though, now I’m kinda curious. What’d the movie get wrong, and what else can you tell me about merpeople? I only ever saw one, on Hueso’s brother’s ship, but that was only for like a second.”

This time, it was Draxum’s turn to give him a look. “Really... The child who’s always pushing me to ‘embrace humans’ and hide my ‘mystic stuff’ is asking me to teach him about a member of Yokaikind?”

“Hey, I only to tell you to hide your mystic stuff so you don’t get yourself evicted, fired or arrested,” Mikey retorted, “I’m not the one goin’ around mutatin’ kids and/or lunches and making giant stone heads angry.”

“...Fair enough,” Draxum said, only slightly reluctant.

“But as far as I can figure, there’s no harm in just talking about mystic stuff. And as for my actual interest... Yeah, I really do wanna know.” Unable to help himself, Mikey directed his gaze towards the floor - down towards the Hidden City that he knew was there. That he only now knew was there. 

He wouldn’t have traded his life with his dad in the sewers of NYC for anything, but he would’ve been lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up around people that looked like him in a city full of magic.

“We protect humans, but we don’t like only humans, you know,” Mikey continued, “We’ve got other mutant friends, and yokai friends too.” His smile softened. “Senor Hueso and Sunita and the chefs I’ve met at Run of the Mill, they’re all so amazing. And I’ve only seen, like, a fraction of the Hidden City but I know that’s amazing too, and I just... This city - the surface - is always gonna be my home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the other city or wonder about it.” 

He finally looked back at Draxum, his eyes firm. “So yeah... I wanna know.”

There was another moment of silence between them, though within it, the slightest bit of connection was formed. Small and fragile, but no less noticeable.

“...Fine,” Draxum finally agreed, “But pay attention, I don’t want to repeat myself later. First off, no merperson has the same skin tone as a human. They range between greens, blues and grays to help blend in with oceans. Their eyes are also much wider than a human’s to help them hunt.”

“Makes sense to me!” Mikey smiled, leaning back on his hands a little, though looking no less attentive. Even when the TV turned to quiet static, he kept his focus right on Draxum - a gesture the former warrior-scientist certainly appreciated, even if he didn’t say so outright.

“Merpeople are also able to survive outside of water. While mobility becomes an issue depending on how often they’re moving or traveling, they have no issues living on land - hence why some take to living on air-boats as a sort of compromise, plus it helps them travel across bodies of water in a shorter amount of time. They also don’t eat humans, despite the lies told about them, though they can be territorial when they are in the water - although you can’t blame them, especially if fish start to become scarce. Furthermore-”

It was sort of nice... Sure, Mikey had plenty he wanted to show and teach Draxum about humankind - and if all went well, then maybe there was a chance of Draxum having a change of heart. Maybe their technical creator wasn’t totally evil, and maybe one day, he really would be a better person and would understand what he and his family already knew. Mikey certainly hoped that would end up being the case...

But, in the meantime, maybe Mikey would end up learning a little from Draxum too. And honestly, as long as it wasn’t lecture series about ‘effectively destroying humans’ or anything like that, the orange turtle didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.

THE END

[fo-love]

Hiya! So, your special day is almost over, no? Did you have a great day today? I hope you did! What did you do today, if you did something special? And if you don't mind me asking ^^

Yeah! It was a lot of fun even though bc of my mom's almost broken foot (something happened to it so if she uses it too much it will break w/o warning so she has to stay careful) and quarantine we didn't do anything really big I found it a lot of fun. I felt super loved today, on and off line! My oldest sister gave me a bag full of things (pizza sweater, pizza plushy, lip gloss, lotion, red and white striped shirt, a bracelet she made, and a painting of the house from up she made) and later mom said something, I can't remember what but it was about how my sister loved me sm to her and she was like "nah I dunno what you mean, I hate Kai" with the most caring voice and I'm 🥺❤

Anyways after I finished with the bag she went to leave but told me to open my door and I was like "ok??" so I did and there was a tarp tablecloth thing?? Yk the Blue plastic tablecloth things?? One of those in my door frame that basically was "happy birthday!!!" and I'm ngl I was like half asleep and it came somewhat into my room after I opened the door so it was something big and blue coming at me and I almost died. My two little sisters and mom were in the hallway and told me happy birthday as I came out of my room, I came out from behind the blue thing and my mom was filming so immediately I was like "oh, um, h-hi-" and istg I was embarrassed kdjfjfofkfn

And I watched criminal minds with my mom but changed it to check out some animes when she took a nap, after the nap me and her went out (with facemasks ofc) and went to a thrift store where I found some cool stuff and got a small glass cup that's frosty but the clear parts are flowers, it's really pretty! I'm laying in bed now but I rb this later with a picture :) here are some other things I found

The shirt is in Greek and says "all I see is Greek" if I remember correctly (if that's not it it's something similar), a glass bowl that really reminds me of the candy bowl from Coraline that had the sticky candies in it, and a Dopey plant pot/vase(??) :)

We also went to books a million where I found this (I couldn't get it bc we're on a tight budget sense we're trying to move soon!) I think it's really cute and maybe I'll try collecting them! The wrap has Velcro and opens so the kitty comes out 🥺💕

And we went to target where I found a nice book that almost made me cry I really like it! Poem books are 20/10!! Especially this one!! Here are some of my favorite out of the few poems I had time to read as well as the book they're in! :) ❤❤❤ The book covers things a lot of people are scared to cover like toxic relationships, s×icide, fatphobia, self acceptance, things like that and it's for girls who have trouble with that. ((The poems in the picture cover self acceptance, lgbtq+/wlw positivity, and s×icide [full of love, not negativity!]))

Then afterwards we got firehouse subs (one of my favorite places to get food!) and watched a horror movie I haven't seen yet called "lights out" it wasn't as scary as I hoped but it's okay, me and my mom aren't easily scared by horror movies and since this one didn't scare us we just commented on parts and made each other laugh! It was a lot of fun and over all an amazing day! Also on top of all of that we secured a place to move to down at the beach! It's a big apartment that has a pool and is only 5 minutes away from the beach and is close to both of my parent's jobs so we should be moving down there around early September I believe :)

[badolmen]

@billy-hoepe @bonniebunz @softupshur, @bandtrees everybody else who liked/reblogged the first, second, and third chapter- y’all’re awesome and cool and your tags and comments inspire me to keep writing! I hope something nice happens to you this month!

“Not gonna lie Upshur, that kid’s weird,” Piper said, pulling the curtain around the table. Miles swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, hoping those shadows licking at the edge of Billy’s frame were just his sleep deprived and traumatized mind playing tricks on his eyes.

“Doesn’t say much though, seems pretty quiet,” Billie muttered, swatting Miles’ hands away as she undid his button down, the shirt sticky with half dried blood. “We don’t need to worry about him talking, do we Miles?”

“No – no, he won’t-”

“Will you?” Piper asked, voice sing song soft as she pressed stinging antiseptic solution to the stubs of his fingers. Miles flinched away, but in spite of her small stature, Piper firmly held his hand in place.

“I wouldn’t have come here if – you know I wouldn’t do anything like that, right?” His words were strained, calm forced into his face as Billie turned to a table of tools.

“You’re a – well, you were a big shot reporter, buddy,” Buddy. Piper barely noticed Miles’ breath hitch.

“Relax Miles,” Billie said, tapping the needle in her hand, bubbles floating to the top. “Pip’s just being a jerk,” She brought the needle to his hand, giving him a glance. “It’s a local anesthetic, we need to clean up those cuts, you’ll feel the pressure but not the pain,”

Miles gave a grim smile, watching Piper set out scalpels and clippers and gauze. Billie set to work at the bullet buried in his shoulder, prodding the wound cautiously.

“By the way Miles, who the hell were you fucking with? Must be big fish if you’re here and not a hospital,” Piper asked, Miles looking away and ignoring the warmth of fresh blood as she began work on his left hand.

“Mount Massive,” He managed through gritted teeth, Billie still cautiously picking at the bullet wound. Piper looked up, eyes bright with recognition.

“Oh, cool! I had a girlfriend who worked there a while ago, think she got laid off recently actually, or maybe it was maternity leave? Haven’t talked to her in a while, we aren’t that close anymore.” There was a clatter as she set a bloody tool back into the metal tray.  

“The hell were you doin’ up there? Not officially reporting ‘em or something, right? Thought you got fired or whatever after that stunt you pulled overseas,”

“Murkoff-” Miles inhaled sharply, Billie’s knife hitting a nerve. The sisters shared a glance. Piper sighed, cauterization of wounds filling the air with an all too familiar stench. There was an uncharacteristic rush to Billie’s movements as she continued to work the bullet from his shoulder.

“You two can’t come back here, got it? Soon as the sun’s up you’re on your own,” Her voice was quiet, nearly a whisper. Miles gave a stiff nod. “We don’t fuck with those guys, they’ve got a hand in every pocket; they’re real serious about whistleblowers and shit, they’ll ruin you, if they don’t outright kill ya,”

“They sure as hell tried,” Miles said with a dark chuckle, wincing as Piper began working on his right hand.

“Yeah, but they like to be thorough,” Piper glanced to her sister as the other woman finally pulled a chunk of bullet from Miles’ shoulder. “They’ll track you down, find everybody you talked to and do worse to them,” Miles’ eyes flashed to Piper as she snipped a jagged fingerbone to a cleaner cut. “Basically, Billie and I might be fucked for helping you,”

“I don’t – I don’t think we were followed,” Miles managed, Billie stitching his shoulder with a practiced hand. Piper gave a shrug.

“Good thing your mama’s way back in the East, wouldn’t want any of those goons visiting her,” The smaller woman said, holding one of Miles numbed hands still as she began to bandage the wounds. Miles jerked on the bench, but Billie held him down as she set a bandage to the wound on his chest, pressing against bruises and broken ribs.

“Easy, you might not be feeling much now, but tomorrow you’re gonna wish-”

“No, no, not that,” He said with a groan, already feeling the aches of his new stitches. His head looked to the curtain, the room outside very still and quiet. “He’s been talking about going back to his mom’s-”

“Don’t,” Piper said, voice soft as she took the tray of bloody tools away from the table.

“I know, but-”

“Listen, Miles, if you went to Mount Massive, found that kid, and took him…Murkoff is gonna consider you for one, a thief or kidnapper or whatever depending on how important that guy is, and two, an insurance nightmare. They’ve got a lot of money they’d rather not part with in lawsuits.”

A rhythmic knock rapped at the door. Billie glanced at her phone.

“Kev’s here,” She said, wiping blood from her hands and setting aside clean bandages. “I texted him earlier, to bring some stuff for you two, when you first knocked. Clothes, y’know? So you’re less recognizable.”

“And you told him to stop by Lee’s, right? For dinner? I’m starving,” Piper said, wrapping Miles’ hand in clean, white gauze.

“Yeah, yeah,” Billie said, pulling the curtain away and walking to the door. Miles looked to the couch, Billy’s form small and shivering. He swallowed a lump in his throat, hoping the sisters didn’t notice the darkness swarming behind the younger man’s blank eyes, the tendrils of nanites writhing across his body and blending with the shadows.

The door opened with a click, and Billy snapped out of it, the darkness dissipated by a single cough, eyes unfocused but clear.

“I got the stuff,” A new voice said, the crinkle of plastic bags accompanied by the smell of grease and spices. Kevin stepped through the door, Billie planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek. He nearly took up the whole door frame, ducking to keep from hitting his head on the light fixture that dangled in front of the door. He gave a nod to Miles, who could only give a weak smile in return.

“Gimme!” Piper squealed, Billy flinching away as the woman darted across the room to acquire a container of Chinese food. “Sorry Billy boy, a girl’s gotta eat,”

“Hold up Pip, we’ve gotta finish up with Upshur first,” Billie chided, Kevin pulling the bags of food up to the ceiling. Piper groaned, sulking back to Miles with comical disappointment. “Kev, could you, uh, hang out with Billy over there ‘til we’re done? You got some stuff for him, right?”

“Yeah, had Chris go through their things, pick out stuff they wanted to donate to the thrift store, figured this was about the same kinda charity, right?” Kev said, holding out a different grocery bag to his wife. Billie nodded at the contents.

“Cool, I’ll finish up quick, make sure Billy’s good, but then these two gotta stay the night,” She said, giving Kevin a tight smile. “Date night tomorrow night sound good?” Kevin grimaced.

“Chris’ got-”

“Right, SAT practice…damn, well, we’ll figure it out,” She pulled the curtain back across the divider, Kevin setting the bags of food on the table.

“Hey little guy,” He said, voice quiet and movements slow as he approached the couch, bag of clothes in hand. Billy recoiled at the words, shrinking deeper into the cushions. Kevin stopped walking. “Just got some stuff for ya, mind if I sit next to you?”

Billy’s eyes darted from the curtain to the giant of a man. Where did Mom go? How did he find her if he never left?

The man repeated his question. Billy nodded. It was better to let him do what he wanted. Safer. It couldn’t hurt worse than the ache in his chest.

“Here,” He said, setting the bag of clothes between them. “Chris is pretty big for their age and you seem a little small for yours so there should be some stuff in there that’ll fit you. Miles will just have to make do with the baggier stuff.” His smile was encouraging, gentle. “Sorry if it’s a little…unique. Chris has been going through some phases lately, but that just means more variety for you,”

Billy slowly leaned toward the bag, eyes catching glimpses of clothes. Stripes, plaids, polka dots, and sequins. Crop tops, flannels, button downs, sweaters, and vests. Shorts, jeans, cargo pants, sweat pants, and skirts. He glanced back to Kevin.

“Take what you want, it’s for you and Upshur, the rest is going to Good Will,”

Billy sifted through the clothes, trying to remember what he liked. When was the last time he picked out a shirt? Asked for a new pair of pants? Most of his clothes at home were hand-me-downs. He knew he didn’t like the uniform they gave him at the asylum. And that he didn’t like the shorts he wore in the cold place.

He liked Miles’ jacket. It was warm. It smelled like coffee and smoke, under the sickening scent of blood. Billy picked out clothes like that. Clothes that reminded him of Miles. A pale button down with plaid patterning. A cozy blue flannel. Worn but comfortable looking jeans. Soft socks with rubber grippers along the sole.

Kevin had taken out a container of food, picking at the contents with chop sticks as Billy sorted through the articles and compiled his favorites around him. On the table, Miles slowly sat up, blood and grime wiped away to reveal a patchwork of stitches and bruises and clean bandages left behind from the sisters’ work.

“You look like shit Upshur,” Kev said, gesturing with his chopsticks and eyes settling on the man’s hands as the reporter tried to push himself to his feet.

“Take it easy,” Billie hissed, grabbing his good shoulder. “Let’s get you to the couch. We’ll give Billy boy a quick check up then let you two rest up. You’re gonna need it.” The woman walked Miles to the seat, Kev reaching over Billy to pass on the bags full of clothes to the dazed patient.

“Kid, leave your stuff on the couch and come over here so we can get a better look at you,” Piper’s voice was friendly. Soft and inviting. And every fiber of Billy’s body screamed that it was a trap. Another test. Soft voices always led to numbing needles and suffocating quiet and then he would be underwater again, drowning but not drowning and breathing without air –

“Easy kiddo,” Kev’s voice rumbled beside him, a hand gripping his shoulder. Billy’s own hands were shaking, pins and needles loosening his grip on the clothes in his grasp. Darkness flickered at the edges of his vision, the ghostly afterimages from the Engine blurry against the white light from the makeshift operating room.

“Billy,” Miles. He knew Miles. Miles was safe. Never a trick. Never a lie. Not yet, at least. “You need to breathe,” He couldn’t see Miles, his vision crawling with those half corporeal insects that always seemed to eat his eyes and burrow into his skull. But Miles was there, a hardly felt warmth beside him. And Billy needed to breathe.

With a shaky inhale, chest aching for air, Billy blinked tears from his eyes, vision refocusing on his numb, shaking hands. And Miles’ hand, a mangled mess of bandages and bruises, gently rubbing some sensation back into Billy’s unfeeling palm. He lifted his eyes slowly, Piper and Billie and Kev seemingly unperturbed by the disturbance.

“They’re gonna help, okay? Not gonna hurt you,” Miles forced a smile, nodding to the sisters. Billy looked over Miles’ face, not quite meeting his eyes as he scanned the fresh stitches and bandages.

Eventually, he managed a stiff nod. Miles hadn’t hurt him yet, and the icy shadow that breathed down his back when the doctors lied and the nurses muttered under their breath was a distant chill. The people here were yet to pose a threat to him, at least, as far as the static specter in the back of his mind was concerned.  Billy stood on shaking legs, shuffle toward the waiting women.

“Easy, easy,” Piper said, hands hovering around him without making contact as she guided him to the operating room. “Can you sit here on your own?” Billy managed himself up onto the cold, metal table, his own body far away and actions automatic. He focused on his breathing, chest hollow and rattling with every exhale.

“It’s alright, you aren’t the first to freak out, won’t be the last,” Billie muttered, a sincere attempt of comfort him somewhere in her tone. He could hardly hear her, keeping his focus on Miles, who seemed equally anxious that they finish looking over Billy’s bruises and cuts.

“You’re in rough shape kid, but you’re doin’ a helluva lot better than Upshur,” Piper said, smile across her face, hands gentle as they held Billy’s head up to force his eyes to meet her own. “A lot of water, some food, and sleep will do you a lot of good.”

“Really?” Miles’ voice was hoarse, a whisper in the quiet room that drew all eyes to him. “He’s okay?”

“Far as I can tell,” Piper said, giving the journalist a shrug. “Physically speaking. Bruises, cuts, easy antiseptic wash and band aid. Throat is raw as hell but the best he can do is take it easy.” She guided Billy back to the couch, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.

“We need to clean up for the night, then we’ll put the lights out. I’ll take first watch,” Billie supplied as she stepped back into the operating room, moving a tray of bloodied tools to the sink. “Get some fresh clothes on and get some rest.”

“I’ve got to go make sure Chris’ sleeping well. I’ll pick you two up in the morning,” Kev said, pulling his wife into a hug before heading back to the door. “Night,”

“Night,” The sisters echoed back, softly rummaging back in the operating room.

Miles was already asleep, breathing deep and slow, broken ribs aching against bandaged skin. He looked cold. Billy shed the blood stained jacket, placing it over Miles’ sleeping form. The clothes were warm and dry and smelled of fabric softener. Mom never used fabric softener; it was too expensive to buy regularly.

But there was something comforting in the floral scent, the freshness of the clothes compared to the dingy couch beneath him. How long had it been since he had dressed himself? Without doctors and nurses buzzing around him like anxious mosquitoes, needles at the ready full of sedative?

He curled into a ball at the opposite end of the couch, listening to Miles’ breathing and the sisters’ quiet murmurs. Eventually the room grew quiet. And the light went out.

[birdiethebibliophile]

Just a quick college AU inspired by @losebetter‘s Fjord fanart that was Just Exactly Right. Started like a month ago and finished real quick this morning because I have two weeks left of grad school and that feels like a lot right now.

CW for mentions of mental health struggles but otherwise completely G.

Important things about this AU:

-       Jester, Beau, Caduceus, and Nott are all freshmen

-       Caleb’s the one upperclassman who stayed in the residence halls because he got a scholarship that covers room and board

-       Fjord is their RA who’s very bad at being an RA (he tries…) and has had to write Jester up for noise violations about five times. Jester always apologizes and promptly forgets about the quiet hours rules again

-       Beau and Jester have been dating since week two of the first semester, when Jester decided that she did not, in fact, have a crush on the cute RA and instead had a crush on her roommate

-       Caleb does, in fact, have a crush on the cute RA

-       Said cute RA also has a crush on Caleb but is determined to not let him know about it because that’s Not Allowed, RAs dating residents, so they’re just pining until Caleb at LEAST moves out of Fjord’s floor

-       Nott’s Caleb’s roommate and reminds him that he gets free meals on campus so there’s absolutely no reason to not eat

-       Caduceus has the single at the end. Well, it’s not actually a single, but his roommate Yasha is never around, so he’s mostly just filled her side of the room with potted plants

-----

Beau had her calculus notes spread out over an entire table and was doing chin-ups on the balcony of the residence hall lounge when Fjord walked in and set his laptop down on her scribbled algorithms. It was two in the morning the Friday before finals, and everyone was barely holding it together. Caleb was hunched over a linguistics textbook in one corner of the room, Jester was fast asleep and clutching her Ikea shark in another, and various freshmen had been stumbling in and out all night, telling each other that really, it was one semester, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they failed a few  tests.

“What’re you doing up?” Beau said, pulling herself back onto the balcony and into the room, closing the door behind her after seeing Jester shiver from the cool May breeze. “You on duty?”

“Nah,” Fjord said, pulling down the screen over one wall and blowing dust off the old-fashioned projector that always seemed to end up back in this room. “Just figured everyone needed a break from studying, including me.” He opened his laptop up and plugged it into the projector.

“I dunno about everyone else, but yeah, I sure do,” Beau said, flinging herself into the nearest armchair that wasn’t occupied. “Jes passed out about an hour ago in the middle of quizzing Nott on chemistry terms, so Nott ran out to get her some hot chocolate. She should be back soon.”

Fjord snapped his fingers. “That’s what I forgot. Okay, just a mo’.” As the projector hummed to complaining life, he opened Crunchyroll and pulled up an episode of Dragon Ball Z.

“Can you do Naruto instead?” Beau put in.

Fjord grinned at her. “Not this time. It’s a DBZ kind of night. Be right back. Tell Caleb that he should get his head out of his book for a few minutes.”

Beau sighed audibly and rolled her eyes, but once Fjord left the room, she started nudging Caleb. “Dude. Hey, dude. Time to take a break.”

Caleb looked up, his eyes taking a few seconds to focus. “Beauregard?”

“Fjord’s throwing an anime party in the middle of the night like the madman he is,” Beau said. “He told me to get you in on it.”

Caleb blinked up at the projector. “I suppose I have a few minutes,” he said, closing his textbook. “Do you know where Nott went?”

“She was going to make a convenience store run, I think,” Beau said.

“Did you tell her to get me more peach rings?” Caleb said hopefully.

“Dude, you’re going to turn orange if you eat any more of those things,” Beau said. “This is health advice from me, who once didn’t eat a vegetable for a week straight, so you should listen.”

“Beau?” Jester said sleepily, hugging her shark tighter. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing, Jes, Fjord’s just being the kind and caring soul he is,” Beau said promptly.

Her girlfriend sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said. “I was helping Nott.”

“Nott went out on a supply run, don’t worry about it,” Beau said. “We’re taking a break, anyway.”

“A cookie break?” Jester said.

“Depends on what Nott gets,” Beau replied.

Jester made her grumpy face – the one that scrunched her nose up and made her look like she had twice as many freckles as she usually did – and gestured Beau to come over. Beau obligingly went and gave her a big hug, at which point Jester shoved her off again. “You’re stinky,” she complained.

“You just think everyone should smell like a candy store all the time,” Beau countered.

“A’ight,” Fjord said as he walked back in, juggling the residence hall kitchen’s electric kettle and entire tea supply, as well as an assortment of mugs that looked like he must’ve raided five different thrift stores to get. “No coffee, Cay. No caffeine for any of you, and I swear, if Nott comes back with any of that shitty 4-hour energy stuff, I’ll –” He stopped as everyone stared at him. “Yeah, she’s right behind me, isn’t she.”

“Yes, she is, and she’d appreciate it if you’d give her a little credit,” Nott’s voice creaked from behind him. She was holding two plastic grocery bags. “I didn’t get Caleb any more coffee, instant or otherwise, and  I didn’t get him any energy drinks. There’s studies that those give you heart attacks and Caleb’s heart needs all the help it can get.”

“Oh! Donuts!” Jester squealed as Nott started unloading her bags, including two boxes of powdered donuts. “Nott, you are the beeest, I love you so much, I promise next time you get a cold I won’t be annoyed when you take all my Emergen-C.”

By now, the projector had powered up and started sending a weak signal to the screen on the wall. “Really? Not Naruto?” Nott complained, climbing over the various chairs cluttering the lobby and plopping herself into Caleb’s lap, all pointy limbs and large eyes.

“Why does everyone always want to watch Naruto?” Fjord said, exasperated. “Cay, you want some chamomile?”

“Ja, please,” Caleb says.

Fjord nods and turns the kettle on. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t need tea,” Nott says, ripping open a package of Chips Ahoy. “I have –”

“Nope, nope, RA in the room,” Fjord interrupts. “Whatever you were about to say, I’m probably not allowed to hear it. Jes?”

“Nott brought me hot chocolate,” Jester said, already dumping three hot chocolate packets into one of the mugs. “Deucey would probably like some tea but I think he’s in his room, d’you want me to go see?”

“Nah, don’t want to wake him up, it’s late,” Fjord said.

Beau plopped a teabag of green jasmine in her mug. “Not a word,” she added, jabbing a finger in Fjord’s direction. “Dairon said it’s good for me.”

“Also, you like the taste,” Fjord added.

“Also, I like the taste,” Beau muttered. “But you’re not allowed to tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“My lips are sealed,” Fjord assured her. “Everyone settled in and comfy?” He looked around the room, where his residents ten minutes ago had been buzzing with nervous energy, even asleep or absent. Now, they were all piled onto the old furniture of the room like they belonged there, clutching mugs and questionable snacks and sleepy eyes fixed on the dim projector screen. Caleb looked up at him and smiled, patting the chair next to him.

Fjord laughed a little and took the offered seat. “You have been working as hard as anyone,” Caleb said, peering at him over the reading glasses still perched on his face. “You can’t care for everyone else if you’re not caring for yourself.”

“Spoken like someone who knows what he’s talking about,” Fjord said, and let himself relax, at least for the moment.

Tomorrow, there would be finals, and patrolling the halls making sure no one was having a breakdown, and Jester would struggle through her history final, and Beau would frantically put the finishing touches on her sports health paper, and Caleb would ace his linguistics test and then go have a panic attack in the bathroom, but now, everyone was safe, and happy, hearts full of anime and bellies full of tea and processed sugar.

Just the way Fjord liked it.

[windfighter]

For the @iron-man-bingo

Square: Shopping Spree

Summary:

The Avengers have worked together for a year. To celebrate Tony decides that they should visit a mall, go wild and buy all the things they want.

—

The mall was big. Okay, Tony could build a bigger, no problem, and it fell short compared to the size of the Avengers Tower. But from the views of the common people it was probably big. And Tony was in heaven. Not that he could let it show. He shooed the others away, had already given each of the Avengers a card connected to his account and told them to run wild. Only for today, because it was a special occassion – it had been one year since they got together as a group. Natasha and Clint disappeared, probably to find some black market place where they could look for weapons or something, Bruce gave him an insecure glance but eventually stumbled away to the closest book store. Thor was still staring at the tiny piece of plastic.

”So you are telling me that with this little thing I will have access to everything in the store.”

”It's a little more complicated than that but yeah, basically.”

Thor turned it around in his hands, stared intensly at it and Tony bit his lip.

”You know what Point Break, just stick to Brucie, he'll help you with it. Try not to get him too drunk though.”

Thor nodded, hurried in the direction Bruce had taken and Tony stared at Steve.

”Shoo, gramps. Shouldn't you be excited to shop around in the new century?”

”It's just... it feels a little excessive.”

”Capsicle... You've known me for a year, excessive is what I do.”

”I don't.”

”Come on, shoo with you. Go wild. Buy some expensive suit for the gala next month. Some paints for your drawings. A new computer. A car.”

”I don't need a car.”

”It was just an example. Anyway there's no car shop in here.”

Tony started walking. For some reason Steve decided to follow him. It wasn't what he had planned for the day, but he decided to ignore Steve's presence and just go on as he had planned. He got to the suits first, got himself one, complete with a very expensive red silk tie. He managed to get a suit for Steve as well, and waved away Steve's promises to pay him back later.

”Just make me pancakes tomorrow and I'll be fine.”

”I... I will!”

They continued to the electronics store, but Tony was utterly unimpressed by everything. Steve got stuck by one of the old game consoles and Tony loaded it in his arms and sent him to the check-out. They located a hardware store and if Steve hadn't been with him Tony would have spent the rest of the day in it. He ended up buying tools, wires, pipes, other electrical supplies, some lumber and a poker set. He also loaded up some paints for Steve.

”These are for walls.”

”Yeah, so you can decorate your floor.”

”My floor is fine.”

”My floor then, I'm not picky. Just add an Iron Man somewhere and I'll be happy.”

Steve rolled his eyes but agreed. As Tony paid for it he realized it was too much for them to carry and he ordered a home delivery the next day. They ended up in a thrift store, where Steve finally found something to buy on his own (a stack of books, and a coat). Tony got a couple of old radios to pick apart when they got back home. They stopped at a restaurant to refill some energy before continuing onwards. They ended up in another clothing store, less high class, and Steve bought a cowboyhat that was a little too big for Tony. In the bookstore Steve found a book about astrophysics and he bought it just because the memories it brought up. Tony shook his head but didn't say anything about the 20 books on astrophysics they already had at home.

There was a crafting store Steve wanted to visit and Tony followed him because he had already visited the store he was interested in. Steve bought one bag of yarn and another of arting supplies (brushes, canvases, paint, pencils).

”What's the yarn for?”

”Knitting.”

”Didn't know you could do that.”

”As the grandpa of the group it's my duty to know how to knit.”

They were already completely loaded with bags, but ended up in yet another clothing store. Steve found a pink T-shirt with a kitty on it that he convinced Tony to get and Tony immediately switched his shirt for it, stuffing the shirt with the radios. They spotted Clint and Bruce at the entrance, Bruce with his nose in one of the books and a few bags filled with stuff around him and Clint sitting on the back of the bench throwing peas at unsuspecting victims. Clint laughed when he noticed Tony's new shirt but Tony just stuck his tongue out and deposited his bags on the floor.

”You two already done? Where are the other two?”

”Bar”, Clint gestured towards the upper floor. ”Nat challenged Thor to bowling and then threw me out when I laughed.”

”Oookay then. Keep an eye on my bags, I'm not done yet.”

Clint glanced at the bags before looking at Tony again.

”You've bought half the mall already.”

”Ordered some homedelivery for the things we couldn't carry. Still, I have one more store to go to. Steve, you staying here or coming with me?”

Steve sank down on the floor, already pulling out the yarn and a pair of knitting needles and that was all the answer Tony needed. He waved and left again.

His last stop for the day was the bakery/café. He ordered an espresso and a piece of cake (coffee flavored) and sank down in a seat where he could watch Steve, Bruce and Clint. He ended up sitting a few minutes longer than he had planned, but he was winded after all the walking and as much as he loved hanging out with his friends it did zap his energy. When the cake was eaten and the coffee gone he got back to the counter and bought six of each macaron flavor they had available (24, so that was a lot of macarons) before returning to his team mates.

”Whatcha got there, Shellhead?”

Clint gestured to the bag and Tony winked, hid it behind his back.

”Seeeecret~♪ It's for when we get home.”

He sat down next to Bruce and gestured towards the bar/bowling hall on the top floor.

”Why don't you fly up there and get our friends, Katniss? I'm gonna call Happy to get us home.”

Clint shook his head, but disappeared towards the elevator. Tony made the call, Happy would be there in half an hour to pick them up which should give Clint ample time to convince Natasha and Thor to leave their game. He leaned back, gestured to the mall.

”Maybe I should open one. Expand our business. Design some clothes.”

”There are enough malls already”, Bruce said and put his book down.

”Ours would use clean energy though. Arc reactor technology. It will be great.”

He slid down slightly, nudged Steve with his foot.

”But maybe you're right. I should focus my energy on everything else I'm already doing.”

Steve looked up from his knitting and smiled to him.

”I'm sure whatever you decide to do will turn out great.”

”Of course it will, I'm Iron Man.”

Steve laughed. Clint returned with Thor and Natasha and they gathered up the bags and headed outside. Happy was already there, helped them load the bags into he car and then Tony took the driver's seat, Steve sat down in the passenger seat and Happy ended up in the backseat together with the others. Tony glanced at them in the rearview mirror before aligning it correctly. He smiled and started the car. Today had been the best day in a long while. And he already had five design ideas for the future mall he was going to build.

[bnhaworld]

This is a request messaged to me from @ironbar36! Here you go!

Wish for a Snack // Genie!Mt. Lady x Reader / Yu Takeyama x Reader

In which Yu is summoned and isn’t quite ready to leave because man, that Taiyaki is good.

There was a strange aura surrounding the thrift shop beside the grocery store. You had passed by the strange setting several times, and you occasionally paused to gawk at the store’s contents, but nothing ever quite caught your eye. 

Or at least not until today.

At the very front of the store, directly in front of the window, stood a tall bottle. It’s shape was akin to an hourglass, with two, purple horns protruding from the very top of it. It was adorned with swirls of purple and orange across a white background. It was mesmerizing, and yet, its purpose was evidently far from an intricate decoration. 

You weren’t sure what under the sun could have possibly forced your hand into purchasing the object, and yet, you were still drawn to it. You took it with you without a second thought. 

“Be sure to take the cap off when you need it most.” It was the only hint the shop keeper had left you with.

You arrived home, and placed the bottle on the table, peeling the surrounding plastic bag away from it. You watched it for a moment, waiting for it’s previous magnetizing effect to take over once more. 

Nothing happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh, a little upset at yourself that you had dropped 30 dollars on such a stupid item. You strolled to the kitchen, your much more important bag in your other hand. You emptied out the contents and got to work.

You began to prepare the batter for the Taiyaki, as well as the red bean paste, letting your addiction to the kitchen carry you off as you continued to prepare everything in a rhythm. It didn’t take very long for you to be pouring batter into the Taiyaki pan. You meticulously covered the taiyaki in red bean paste, followed by more batter. You closed the pan and sauntered off to the bathroom.

You came back with wet hands, the smell of freshly made taiyaki flooding the air. You took a sweet whiff of the air, a gracious grin coming to rest on your face in self pride at your food. 

You stared up at the woman who suddenly appeared in your kitchen.

She was floating in the air, her hips ending into a stream of purple mist that ended where the bottle’s mouth began. She had bright purple eyes, and horns that indisputably matched those on the bottle. She was a giant woman, with luscious blonde hair tied with golden bands into a high ponytail. 

And she was eating your taiyaki.

You stood in place, utterly speechless at the woman who had appeared in your kitchen. You were unable to form any words. A single grunt escaped your throat as you attempted to speak, but it only succeeded in catching her attention. She peered upward, her mouth moving in a chewing motion. A nervous grin captured her lips once she swallowed.

“S-So.. You uhm..” She cleared her throat and adjusted her posture, standing up straight. “I am Mnatra Lazra Djinn! I am here because I have been summoned! I appeared when you opened that bottle and man, that taiyaki was good.” 

“I.. never opened the bottle, M.. Min.. Mmm.. I’m going to call you Mount Lady.” You murmured quietly, scratching the back of your head. 

“I know that, dummy.” Mt. Lady retorted, rolling her eyes. “This just smelled really good and I haven’t eaten in millenniums.. Could you make some more? Please?” 

You blinked at her. You still couldn’t make sense of the situation. You simply waddled back to your previous station and started up cooking again.

All the while, Mt Lady began to explain. She was very much a genie who could grant three wishes, in typical genie fashion. She would live inside her bottle and could be summoned so long as you had the bottle. She existed for the sole purpose of serving others and boy, was she not a big fan of that. She was however, an immediate fan of your cooking.

Considering she was fresh out of the bottle, you never quite questioned whether or not her wishes were real. You simply put the thought to the side and continued to cook for her.

Every night at dinner, since then, she’d come out herself, always asking for a bit of taiyaki for herself. You weren’t quite sure why, but you’d happily oblige. She was always happy to receive food from your hand.

Time and time again, she found herself talking to you. She explained that she was often alone, especially considering she spent a greater portion of her life trapped inside the bottle. She told you about her previous “customers” and how odd their wishes often were. 

You used your first wish on getting more ingredients for taiyaki. Your salary wasn’t high enough to be constantly feeding her homemade taiyaki. She happily obliged, giving you a half-hearted apology for wasting your resources.

“You’re the nicest master I’ve had so far.” She tells you one day. 

“Don’t call me your master. We’re friends. I’m (Y/N) and you can call me that.” You quickly responded as you handed her her share of taiyaki. 

She started to blush, but never once brought it up again, as she took the taiyaki.

“Thank you.. (Y/N), I appreciate it.” She murmured softly, looking away from you. You smiled. It was evident no one had treated her this kindly, but it was would be wrong to say she wasn’t enjoying being the slightest spoiled.

“Hey, (Y/N), why do you never use your wishes?” She asked on another day, as she quietly ate her taiyaki. She had taken on a smaller, human form. It was easier for her to consume food, and it made each bite more worthwhile. 

“Then you’d have to leave, wouldn’t you?” You turned toward her, cocking your head a tad as you gave her a sincere smile. She found her cheeks heating up once more. 

“I-I know that..” She hesitated before continuing. “I can’t stay here forever, (Y/N), you need to wish for something, anything. I..”

You walked over to her, placing a hand  on her shoulder in concern.

“Mt. Lady, what’s wrong?” You asked, gently taking her blonde hair between your hands and fiddling with it.

“I want to leave.” She blurted out. You backed away from her briefly, a bit shocked at the revelation that she didn’t quite want your company. 

Or at least that was how you interpreted it.

“It’s not that I want to leave you, (Y/N)!” She quickly clarified. “I just.. I don’t want to have you here serving me everyday. I’m supposed to be serving you! It isn’t fair. I feel like I’m.. being a burden or something.” 

Her face fell down, a crestfallen appearance taking over her face as she avoided your eyes. You wanted her to look at you, but you knew she wouldn’t want to. You had learned much about her throughout the past few months.

“You’re never a burden, to me.. Well at first,” You chuckled. “You were a bit frustrating to work with but we’re friends now. We are.. equal. I’m no better than you and you aren’t quite above me either.”

“You don’t understand!” She burst out, turning to face you with eyes full of pain. “I want to leave before I get to attached, (Y/N)! It’s unfair you’re a human and I’m like this! I want to.. I want to be with you! Forever! I can’t do that if I’m just a stupid genie, and we can’t have the life I want for us if you’re still in this world!” 

You stared at her, unsure of what to respond as her words soaked into your brain. You had grown a certain fondness for her as well. You looked forward to her everyday, and yet, you were well aware that she was right; a life here was not one ideal for the two of you.

“How can we stay together?” You asked softly, leaning over to face her. “Tell me there’s a way. Any way.”

She peered over at the bottle. She knew exactly how to but it was difficult for her to want to let go.

“You’re sure you.. you want me?” She asked, eyes sparkling with a mixture of tears and glee. You nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Mt. Lady leaned over toward the bottle you kept atop your counter, and pushed it into your hand. She lifted herself up and slowly, the bottom half of her body melted away into mist and put itself in the bottle.

“We have to go back to the shop. When we get there, drink the what’s in the bottle and.. and..” She felt tears prick her eyes though she wasn’t sure they were of joy or fear.

“(Y/N) if you choose this path, you’ll never go back to anyone or anything in this world again..”

“I know that.” You responded, a soft smile coming to rest on your lips. You had already made a decision. She floated down toward you and pressed her lips against yours in a kiss. You gladly returned her kiss with your own, smiling against her lips.

“I’m ready, Mt. Lady.”

“Just.. call me Yu, okay?” She placed herself in the bottle and her body was gone. You grabbed the nearest sweater and quickly made your way to the shop where it had all started.

You walked with purpose, each stride a bit faster than the last until you were at the thrift shop. The worker hadn’t even caught you as you waltzed to the back of the store and immediately poured the contents of the bottle down your throat. You swallowed the thick substance, eyes closing as if it could battle away the bitterness.

When your eyes came to open, you found yourself in a large room, with a single couch. On the couch was Yu, her eyes filled to the very brim with worry. It quickly washed away when she felt your presence and she rushed over to you, throwing her arms around you.

“(Y/N)! Y-You.. you really did it?” She asked, eyes widened with shock. 

“Of course I did, Yu. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you..” You whispered softly, holding her in your arms. You felt her body shudder and you knew immediately she was on the verge of tears. You held her closely as she burst, her body shaking with sobs and her body warming in response to her tears.

“I’m so grateful, (Y/N). You’re the nicest person I ever met.” She murmured. You chuckled a bit, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

You lived with her in the bottle, and for years no one disturbed you two. You would make her food, despite the fact that she could simply whip some up, but it was what you found excitement in. Everyday with her you did something new within the bottle, and though it was small, you were happy. You were happy because you spent every day with her.

[labgrownsteaks]

Chapter 9

Guy worked on the loading dock of a local thrift store. It was Friday, and he was looking forward to the weekend. Looking forward to the trip they were all going to take. He had googled about Siri’s “malfunction” and came up with nothing. He also hadn’t ruled out that since the actual unit was a knockoff, that perhaps it was simply defective. That’s what Vitamin’s mom gets for buying him a fake Siri Egg he thought as he lifted up a box of old keyboards onto a flimsy aluminum shelf. 

Joyce came up the dirty steps. She was in her 60s, and supposed had a broken back, carpal tunnel, “neurological issues”, sleep apnea, and every other thing she saw a product advertised for on the shopping channel. If the shopping channel had a way to fix it, she had to have it. She was the floor manager, essentially the person put in charge of keeping all the miscreants that worked there in line. 

“Whadduya doin with that box of keyboards? That’s for recycle!” she yapped while hobbling towards the shelving unit. 

“Oh, these are still good. The MX2000 is actually better than most modern laptop keyboards. If somebody had an old Module Console this would definitely come in handy” Guy stated diplomatically. 

“Crap. Crap Crap. Box full of crap.” She said as she rummaged through the box. “Crap.” she said as she tossed each keyboard in the giant rubbermade container. “Crap” She said as she through an old computer textbook into the “book box” . “Crap” as she threw a shrink wrapped pack of cassette tapes into the garbage. “Throw away the crap! Is it that hard?” The ironic thing was that Joyce probably had more crap than anybody else. She would come on Sundays when nobody was there, and unload boxes of it, and they’d be waiting for me Monday morning. Strange pillows to improve your posture while you sleep, garbage bags full of yarn, and an assortment of pressure plates for your feet. Of course all of this stuff had to go out on the floor , and of course it had to be priced just under what she paid for it, which pretty much meant the store was become a boutique of her discarded items. 

“Throw away the crap!” she stated as she walked down the steps. Guy walked over to the recycling, and the garbage, and got everything out and took it to his car, which was parked just a few steps from the loading dock. It was a pretty common occurrence during his workday. In fact, he couldn’t remember a day where he had come home empty handed, the only problem now of course, was that his stuff was now filling up his house. And his storage unit....and his other storage unit.. As Guy was walking back he saw a jacked up Chevy pulling up, it had a organ tied up in the back. Guy knew the organ would be “crap” and wouldn’t be worth unloading, so he talked the driver into coming over to his place after work. He’d give him 40 bucks for it. He could actually use an organ. 

Around lunchtime Vitamin, and Erin showed up with a bag full of McDonalds. 

“Burger for the working man?” Erin said as we walked down the alley. Guy was actually a pretty big dude, standing 6′ 5″ and coming in at around 250lbs. Even though he was a complete dork, he was built like a barrel and looked like the kind of person who could handle himself on a ranch. 

“What’s up goobers” Guy said as we approached. 

“Chow time” I responded, while stuffing a fry into mouth. 

We sat down together on the loading dock, and it didn’t take long for the subject of Siri to come up. 

“You can’t be serious about this shit bruh” Guy said to me. 

“What’s the alternative? We’ve been given a quest. An actual quest!” Erin said “Siri played Lord of The Rings for fucks sake!” 

“What do you do when you see a fork in the road Guy?” I said. “You take it!”

“You stole that from somewhere! I’ve heard that before” Guy said

“Yeah, probably, have no idea where from though” 

“So when are we dropping tomorrow?” Guy stated while biting into his burger. 

“Around 10, then we’re headed down to the river. It’s supposed to be nice out. We can hang out in the woods by the banks and plot” Erin stated

“Sweet, I’ll meet y’all there then” Guy said

“Tomorrow is the test. It’s going to be a big trip! “ Erin said

“A test for what?” Guy said

“If we can work together” Erin continued. “If we’re really going to pull this off, we’ve got to be able to work together” 

“Look. Even if we did break into Quicksilver. What would we do then? Like, what am I supposed to do? Just push the delete key, and walk back out?! The place is full of cameras. Literally, if I got in, I legit would have no idea of what to do....like...none” 

“How can we ignore this? “ I stated. “Like. Can you imagine getting old and having this chance and not taking it?”

“This isn’t a chance bruh. This is illegal. I’m not breaking in. Nope. Not doing it” Guy looked up at me and  Erin, and I could sense that he could sense our disappointment. “Seriously! No....Fucking.....way! Can you imagine me in prison? And for breaking into Quicksliver!” 

Erin had a sneak attack. “Didn’t Quicksilver basically destroy the entire dream of the world wide web?” 

“Yes. Quicksilver sucks. Yes, they are evil incarnate. Yes. They’re making the world a worse  place. No. No. No am I going to break into their headquarters. No chance!” 

We could hear Joyce coming up the steps. Guy shooed us away “Get out of here!” and we took off down the alley. They weren’t supposed to have lunch breaks, which basically meant the day was an all day snackathon for everyone who worked there. 

“You see that pocket fishing pole set?” Joyce squawked. 

“Nope. I think we put that out a couple weeks ago” Guy responded

“well it’s gone, and Linda doesn’t remember selling it either so.”

“Ok. Well I’ll keep an eye out for it” 

Joyce muttered something as she hobbled back down the steps. Guy could see Erin and me at the end of the alleyway. He watched us as we got onto our “motorcycles” and drove off. 

Another local to the thrift store scene was Ryan, and he pulled up to the Loading Dock in a 1978 Ford Fairmont. It was completely rusted out. The drivers side floor panel was actually gone, so when you rode with him you basically felt like you were in a Flintstone car. He had a bunch of Ham radio gear on the dash, and the sounds of James Brown were blasting as he rolled up. He was also prone to intermittent James Brown impersonations. He opened the door with some swag, and threw his jet black hair back. he had transitions lens in his glasses, and one of those baseball hats on that made him look like a Hollywood film director. 

“Got something for ya buddy!” Ryan stated as he walked up to the dock with a book in his hands. “You still collectin textbooks?” 

“Of course. How could I stop?” Guy responded.

“Super rare. I found it at State Surplus” he said as he handed guy the old textbook. It had a Blue canvas cover, no dustjacket, just the embossed “gold” font on the front. And it simply said ZXBASIC on it in bold letters. Guy began to thumb through the book, seemed pretty standard. Black and white diagrams for outdated programming languages that he loved so dearly. 

“Check the front page” Ryan said, and Guy flipped the pages back and inspected the first page. It read. 

ZXBASIC and Finite State Machines

Hyperdine Systems Inc. 

1967 

“Hyperdine was the first iteration of Quicksilver. Check the logo! It’s still the same. You could definitely get something for it on Ebay. Some fanboy would probably pay a pretty penny!” 

Guy felt annoyed at this point. It was one of those times, like when you stub your toe minutes before you have to take a interview for a job on the phone, and then your toast burns and stinks up the house, and the postman decides that now is a good time to get into a conversation with your neighbor who is restraining their barking dog in the apartment next door. Everything bad happens all at once. In this case, he felt like he was being pushed. And Guy didn’t like to be pushed. He just wanted to sit at home, with his new organ, and learn how to play inagaddavita amongst all of his plastic computer friends. 

“Thanks man!” Guy said. “This is really dope!” . Another car had pulled up, and a nervous middle aged woman with a small dog was waiting. Ryan noticed and popped back into his car. “don’t say I never did anything for ya man!” He said while starting his car up. The radio blared James Brown. 

Get up, (get on up) Get up, (get on up) Stay on the scene, (get on up), like a sex machine, (get on up)  

Guy looked back down at the beautiful code in the book. “What had Quicksilver become?” He thought. They had been so cool. Why did they have to just turn to crap? The woman pulled up and popped her trunk. She was pulling a dog carrier out of it. “Oh sorry!” Guy stated. “We’ve already got a ton of carriers. Maybe try Goodwill?” The woman, in her 40s gave him an exasperated look, and suddenly the carrier seemed to weigh a million pounds, and it was a major issue to get it back into the car. The rest of the day was pretty slow, and guy chilled out, on a nice fall day outside, and read ZXBASIC. 

[rayadraws]

The importance of positive reinforcement

This is a little “joint project” between me, @jenny-opm, @dechanique and also @bloodsbane!

This all started with me posting the following prompt at the OPM Discord server:

Concept: King obviously has a large collection of anime figurines and stuff we do not even need to discuss this. And let’s say there’s an equivalent of Nendoroids/Good Smile Company in the OPM universe who produces merch for different categories, so that probably includes heroes, too.

Genos hears about a new Caped Baldy figurine and starts looking around for it, maybe joining a forum to ask/find more info. There is an user in the forum who knows EVERYTHING about these figurines and offers all sorts of insight etc. And then after like, quite a bit of discussing things back and forth both of them go like

“Wait… Genos?”

”King? Is that you?“

…at least they’ll have something to talk about next time King comes over now.

We started brainstorming about this scenario and it uh, grew. Below is a near 2k “summation” of everything we came up with, kind of like a synopsis if you will? (If anyone wants to borrow this concept and turn it into something bigger/a proper fic or watever by all means do, just make sure to give credit where due - and give us links to the results, I’m sure everyone involved would love to see!)

Moral of the story, as summed up by Dech: Genos is the real winner and learned nothing.

King is definitely a moderator in said forum. If Genos ever misbehaves on there king probably gives Saitama a call like;

"Yo your roommate is trying to start an internet fight, get him to stop for me.”

Saitama tells Genos that ”King told me to tell you that if you don’t stop engaging with the trolls you’ll have your star point rewards taken away, whatever that means.”

Genos is visibly upset at this. He counters that King should come talk directly to him (knowing he’s intimidated by him) but the threat backfires when Saitama responds with ”’Kay, I’m telling him you don’t want your points or whatever" and there goes that.

“N-no, Sensei, no! Just… it’s just….”

“What?”

“They said mean things about you and how hard it is to get you to remain on your stand….”

“Is this all about that weird plastic action toy again?!”

It turns out Saitama is a bit weirded out by the idea of an collector’s figure of himself, maybe even by figures of real people in general.

This becomes even more evident when they’re walking past a display in a store one day (including at least three different designs of Demon Cyborg) and Sai just… gives them a Look

“Why are there three versions of you, though” Saitama asks.

“Well, I believe Amai Mask has at least 7 variants, Sensei, since he has been a hero for much longer than us…

”…Why would anyone need 7 of him?“

(the answer is that they make a new figure every time he gets a new haircut)

The fortunate side effect of Genos being away and busy explaining action figures to Saitama is that it gives King the opportunity to get the forum situation back under control - it’s a lot easier now that a main participant is away from the screen.

On top of that, to Genos’ dismay, by the time they return home, the forum thread has been locked. However, he has an idea and whips out his phone, texting King with simply “Why did you do that?”. When he receives the message, poor King just about throws his phone across the room.

Later, it is Saitama’s turn to receive a text message.

"Saitama, dude, you gotta stop him or we’ll have to ban him and I’m terrified of what he’ll do to me, he knows where I live!”

Poor King - all he wants is to keep the forum a safe and healthy environment for everyone….

—

One day King comes over to play video games with Saitama and at one point King’s phone beeps. He notices that there is a situation and thinks to himself that this has to be straightened out, a mod is needed here….

Of course, Genos remembers when King cheated him out of a glorious internet discussion victory and just starts staring at King, eyes narrowed, not even blinking.

Poor King doesn’t deserve this, all he wanted to do in his beloved forum was talk about anime waifus with his fellow otakus… It’s like a battle between Genos’ whirring core and the King engine thundering in the small apartment.

Saitama notices that something is up and tries to diffuse the situation, asking if Genos can go get the chips. Predictably, Genos does an immediate 180 and brightly asks whether Sensei wanted this one or this one..? He gets the bag of chips…

…And then goes RIGHT back to glaring at King. The relief was only temporary…

King desperately tries to come up with a solution to all of this. Maybe he can give Genos star points for every day he stays out of trouble..? But that’s not fair to other users… But this is a life or death situation, he needs to come up with SOMETHING..

Desperately, he begs Saitama to give Genos a good behaviour sticker book.

Saitama is uncertain.

“I dunno man…”

“Listen! I’ll buy you a book and deliver it here! Just… please… for me?!” King puts on his best puppy eyes.

“He listens to you!”

“I’ll subscribe to a monthly sticker service and send them all to you!”

King is desperate - but then again, he’s pretty sure it’s his life on the line.

—

A month later:

"Hey Genos! Look, this month’s theme is Gudetama!”

“!!!”

To King’s relief, the new system works and Saitama realizes he can also use the stickers for other situations… like not threatening strangers on the street or not losing parts during fights.

“You came back in one piece! Wow, awesome, here’s a sticker!”

A little positive reinforcement goes a long way!    

Other uses includes finding the BEST sale - Genos is so proud of that one that his sticker album just happens to lay open on the table when Mumen comes over for a visit one day.   

Mumen notices, of course.

“Oh, these are very nice! Are they a project for the neighbourhood children?”

“They’re… a project for one local kid…”

“All these stickers for one kid! This kid must be very good”

Genos looks so proud.

Saitama wants to say “he needs a lot of reinforcements” but he catches the look on Genos’ face and just can’t say it. Instead, all he says is “yeah” and Genos is so happy for the confirmation - and is on his best behaviour all day, bringing Mumen tea and crackers with a happy little smile - as well as going rather overboard.

“What temperature do you prefer your tea at, Mumen-san?”

Mumen is rather confused…

It turns out Happy Genos is almost as overbearing as Pissy Genos - just in a different way.

Thanks to being so good while Mumen visits, Genos earns himself two new stickers.

(This is all very unfair - King introduces the stickers yet it’s Mumen Genos is grateful towards. Well, life isn’t fair, King knows this. But it still hurts…)

—

On days when Genos is especially good he can pick which stickers he wants. He always picks the yellow ones.

When he fills a page in his book he can have a small reward. When he fills a whole book he can have a big reward!

It’s hard to think of good rewards, though.

”I dunno what to even suggest as a reward, d’ya have any ideas, Genos?”

”YES.”

Genos reaches into his pocket, puts on lip balm and closes his eyes, making the perfect kissy face.   

”What, a new chapstick?”

—

One day, Saitama unexpectedly runs out of stickers. Genos looks so sad about it that Saitama panics and instead gave his reward in the form of a really quick kiss on the cheek.   

And that’s the start of it - stickers will never be enough now.

Saitama tries to reason with himself - it IS cheaper than buying new stickers all the time, it’ll save money… right?   

A call to King.

“Yeah, you don’t need to send me any more stickers.”

From here on, all they need to do is draw hearts in the book to keep track.

—

King can’t believe how well behaved Genos is next time they meet.

When he finally comes over he finally realizes why he didn’t need to send any more stickers.

“Well… I guess… that works…” he mutters as he continues kicking Saitama’s ass at Street Fighter - not hearing a disgruntled “hmph” in the background every time he wins a match is a welcome change.

“More tea, King-san?”

Before he has even closed the door behind him as he leaves the apartment, he hears Genos calling to Saitama in the other room.

“I want to cash in my reward now!”

—

Give a mouse a cookie…

Over time, Genos becomes more and more insistent about his rewards.

“Sensei, there was variations among the stickers. It is only fair to also have variations among the kisses.”

He’s steaming out of his shoulders as he advances on Saitama and Saitama knows immediately that the end of his supposed heterosexuality is impending.

To his surprise, he is saved(?) by none other than Speed of Sound Sonic.

To Genos’ credit, he tries to stay calm around Panic (”Oy, worthless, poorly named sorry excuse for a ninja… do you want tea?” “What?!”). But unfortunately the sticker street is one-way - Sonic has no incentive to be nice.

The fight is inevitable.

”You cost me a kiss!”

”For fecks sake what’s wrong with you today tin can?!”

Afterwards, Saitama can tell that Genos is upset so he strikes a deal. He won’t lose any of his points, but he won’t gain any new ones either.

”You didn’t immediately attack him but you did call him a shitty excuse for a shitty shithead… so let’s call it even…”

—

”Hey Genos! If you get every sale item on this list you’ll have your choice of a smooch or two stickers!”

“!!!”

We know what he will choose. Having said that, he might try to barter - ”Maybe a quick smooch and one sticker?” - because stickers can be traded in for longer kisses later.

Getting more and more courageous, Genos starts demanding his rewards in public too. He has never been so excited to tag along to thrift stores to find “new” clothes before.

“Wow, what an awesome deal! You did so good Genos. This is definitely worth a big reward.” Genos moves closer, crowding Saitama, face dark and shoulders steaming.

“I would like that reward now, Sensei.”

Saitama sweats, takes a half step back. "R-right now??”

He steps closer, “Yes.I found Sensei the - shudders slightly - cheap used crocs, it is only fair.”

The first time Genos gets a public reward happens when they accidentally forgot the sticker book at home - after that, Genos “forgetting” them at home becomes a very common occurrence.

King has no idea what he has started. The day media explodes with the picture of Demon Cyborg and Caped Baldy kissing in public - Saitama texts King saying “I blame you” and King is so confused - but at least Genos is too busy to bother him or anyone else in the forum any more.

All in all, a happy ending for everyone.

[starrkpeter]

Patched Up (Part 1)

pairing: peter parker x female reader

summary: reader helps peter get patched up, late at night when he sneaks into her house, after civil war. she finds out that he’s spider-man, through an unexpected object.

a/n: i hope y’all like this! this is my first fic ever! give me your feedback!!

You and Peter Parker have been best friends since the 8th grade. You lived a block away from each other in Queens, in different apartment complexes. It all started at Ned Leed’s 14th birthday party. Peter had no idea that he had a mutual person between him and Ned, but there you were, standing with the rest of the party guests, singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as Ned blew out the candles. Ever since then, the three of you formed a tight bond and started to hang out during the summer and all of freshman year. You rode bikes up and down Queens together, you watched all the Star Wars and Harry Potter movies together, you studied for 3 hours straight at Ned’s house when you had your first exams freshman year.

Peter always thought you were pretty since the beginning, but once you hit your sophomore year, you glowed up. You barely wore any makeup, unlike most of the girls your age, which made you stand out more with your natural beauty. The more time he spent with you, the more he noticed the small details about you. Like the way you closed your eyes when you laughed, or how cute you looked when you would scrunch your eyebrows when you didn’t understand a geometry problem. He found himself getting more nervous aroud you as time passed. He stuttered his words more, and the hot, red, sensation on his cheeks started to be a more common feeling every time you two made eye contact for longer than 5 seconds. He was a clammy, stumbling, hot mess.

Obviously, you felt the same way towards him. The summer after freshman year, he started to get more toned and muscly. You never brought it up to him, but, man, you loved it. You noticed how he started to blush more and look at his shoes when he was with you, how he would bounce his leg up and down when he sat next to you in physics class. But once sophomore year had started, he not only started to ditch your invitations to watch 90s movies and eat popcorn at your house, but he started to miss school events, and even skip classes, as well. He always made up some lame excuse. He either had doctors or dentist appointments, had to help Aunt May in the kitchen, or just had to do chores. You started to get suspicious, but you never called him out on it. You knew that he would tell you someday, when he was ready.    

The night that Tony Stark dropped Peter off at the front of his apartment building, after fighting alongside him just that same afternoon, it was 1 AM. Peter had returned with a black eye, several cuts and wounds, bruises, and a sprained ankle. He was a hot mess, and he couldn’t just walk into his house this late, especially with Aunt May. She would question him like crazy, and he didn’t need that right now.

‘I’ll go to Y/n’s place.’ He thought. It would be rude, but you were his best friend and he knew that you would understand no matter what happened to him. So, suitcase and all, he walked the next block to your apartment building, climbing up the fire escape to the third floor. He cracked open the window to your bedroom, crawling headfirst in. He made sure to leave his bag just outside the window, because he knew that you would question him. The only way he could see was from the dim light that came from the street lamps below. He squinted in the darkness, tip toeing to your bedside. He grunted softly as he kneeled on the carpet, a new wave of pain spreading through his knees. His hand hovered over your shoulder, ready to wake you up, until he saw you a bit more clearly, in the faint light. Your hair was sprawled out on the blue pillow, your knees hugged into your chest with your back facing him. Your breathing was soft, Peter just able to hear it. He didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful, and beautiful.

But he had to do it. He couldn’t risk Aunt May finding out. She was already so worried about him, and about the “Stark Internship”, which she thought was quite odd and a bit sketchy. So, without another thought, his fingertips softly tapped against your shoulder, but it didn’t wake you. He tried again, but it didn’t work. Finally, he worked up his courage and ever-so-gently shook your shoulder. You stirred awake, unconsciously turning over to face Peter, muttering something in your sleep.

You could feel a presence, someone staring at you, and it forced you to slowly open your eyes. “What-” You almost yelled, backing up against your bed, away from the figure. Your breathing increased as you tried to make out who it was that was kneeling by your bed.

“Hey, hey.” Peter whispered, reaching out to touch your hand, to ease you from your startled state. “It’s me, it’s Peter.”

“Peter? What the hell-”

“Listen, Aunt May sent me to pick up some stuff at 7-11 late at night, and when I was walking back, this guy tried to mug me and he beat me up pretty bad. I can’t go back home, because I know that Aunt May is up, binge watching her shows-because that’s what she does on friday nights-and she’ll never let me out of the house again if she finds out.”

Peter exhaled, hoping you would understand. Your face scrunched in confusion, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. “S-so, what do you want me to do?” Peter looked down at the ground, embarrassed, now realizing how dumb his lie sounded. But it sounded somewhat believable to you.

“C-can you, like, p-patch me up, or something?” He stuttered. Again, your face returned to a confused state, but you sighed, slowly getting up from your bed, tip toeing to the bedroom door, easing it open. With Peter close behind you, you both made it to the bathroom down the hallway, closing the door before you turned on the light and turned to face him.

You gasped, taking in the sight of him. His right eye had a blackish-purplish ring around it, a cut over his cheekbone and a bruise to match with it. His hair wasn’t styled, it was in its natural, curly state, a piece of hair falling over his eye.

“O-Oh, my God, Peter!” You breathed, bringing your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from yelling. On instinct, you reached your hand to touch his bruised cheek, but he flinched back, inhaling sharply. “This all happened from a mugger?” You questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Well…” Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking down at the tile. You didn’t let him finish, instead, rushing to get the rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs from the medicine cabinet, looking for the anti-bacterial cream and some gauze. You looked at him, before realizing that he needed ice on his eye. “Stay.” You commanded, before rushing out of the bathroom to get an ice pack from the freezer. When you came back, Peter had taken a seat on the bathtub ledge, a tired look on his face.

You started to unwrap the gauze and prepare some cotton balls with rubbing alcohol, while he gazed at you. This kid was totally crushing on you, since day one. You never failed to look beautiful, in his eyes. He saw that you were wearing an oversized sweater, from the thrift store that you told him about a while ago, that covered your butt. He couldn’t tell if you were wearing shorts, but he guessed that you weren’t. You had black fuzzy socks on, and your hair wasn’t messy but it wasn’t neat either. It was perfect. You were perfect.

“Okay, this might hurt.” You said softly, breaking him out of his mesmerizing trance. He looked at you as you crouched in front of him, dabbing the cotton ball on his cheek. You felt him inhale sharply, flinching and squeezing his eyes shut. The wound was still fresh and open. “Sorry, sorry.” You repeated, dabbing his cheek one more time. Then, you put some anti-bacterial cream on his cheek and gave him the ice pack to hold over his eye. “Do you have any other cuts on your back or arms, or something?” You asked. He looked at you, and hesitantly took his long sleeved shirt off, putting it on the ground.

You felt your heart flutter, taking in how toned his chest was, his abs, his biceps. Since when? You thought to yourself, scanning his body. You were frozen for just a second, stunned, and Peter noticed it. "What?” He asked innocently. You shook your head, reaching for more cotton balls and alcohol. “Oh, nothing, you have some scrapes on your back, though.” You started to dab at the gashes, as he turned side ways so you could reach better. The rubbing alcohol on these scrapes irritated Peter more.

“You can hold my hand if you want to.” You suggested-more like an excuse to touch him. He looked at you questioningly, his hand hovering over yours. “To relieve the pressure, you big baby.” You teased, smirking at him. He chuckled softly, mumbling an “Oh, right,” and red creeping up his bruised cheeks. You both couldn’t help the butterflies flutter in your stomachs as your skin made contact with each other. You bit your lip, nervously, as Peter squeezed your hand harder, whimpering, each time you pressed the cotton ball against his wounds. He started to subconciously lean into your chest, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain seared through his body.

“Arms.” You said, when you were done with his back. He held them out to you and you repeated the process again, until you got down to his wrists. Your eyes landed on a piece of, what looked like, high-tech metal or hard plastic wrapped around Peter’s wrist.

“What’s this?” You asked, running your fingers over it. Suddenly, Peter pulled away, fiddling with the thing on his wrist, attempting to take it off of him.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just a bracelet thing.”

God, Peter Parker was a terrible liar. He was truly awful. So, he had you with the whole, 'Aunt May will kill me, I can’t go home,’ deal, but now, he was just flat out lying to your face.

“If it’s just a bracelet, then show it to me, Parker.” You reached for his arm again, but he pulled away again, blushing a deep red.

“No, it’s fine, it’s stupid-”

“Come on, I won’t make fun of you!”

“Seriously, y/n, let it go!”

“No, Peter, I wanna see!”

Finally, after your back and forth reaching-and-pulling, you managed to roughly grab his wrist, messing around with the bracelet and pushed a button without realizing it.

Suddenly, a red laser shone from the bracelet, onto the bathroom door. Silence came over the both of you, as your eyes followed to where the light landed. What illuminated the door was a hologram of the Spider-Man logo right in front of your eyes. Your jaw dropped, as you looked from the projection, to Peter Parker. You were completely speechless. It wasn’t a device that any person could get their hands on, this was a high tech gadget that someone like Tony Stark would’ve made, or someone in that power.

“It’s not what you think it is.” He blurted out, pressing the button on the bracelet to turn it off, and hiding his hand behind his back. “It’s just a-”

“Really? Because I think that you’re Spider-Man.” You sassed him, not caring for how flustered he was. Your eyes searched his brown ones, looking for the truth. You couldn’t believe he actually kept this a secret from you, you were at a loss for words. This was your Peter Parker.  

“Okay, it’s exactly what you think it is.”

[sitabethel]

Any chance you could post some random fluffsmut headcanons for trashshipping today? I kind of ran into some jarring stuff I'm gonna have to deal with later. -aspidisecalis being a nerd at the bakery again

Oooooooo~ I think It’s time to do a teaser for One Man’s Trash (the Trashshipping fic I’ve been working on here and there. I have 14 finished chapters so far). This is the end of Chapter 8, the “first kiss” scene. 

Context: Kek and Bakura are trying to live like “normal people.” They finally get their own apartment, but they’re broke af, so they don’t have much. There are some OC mentions:

Tomoko: She’s the landlady at the hostel they stayed at before they could move out on their own. She’s pretty much an adopted mother to Kek.

Granny: She’s a grumpy old woman that owns the noodle shop in which Bakura works. She walks around all day drinking booze and coffee, so Bakura gets along with her pretty well, actually. 

It was frightening, how he felt, but Bakura caught his reflection in a store window on the walk home and stopped to really stare at himself.

He saw a little of the thief he once was, mostly in the set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed in automatic suspicion at everything in the world, but otherwise… he looked like he belonged in Japan, Ryou’s long lost cousin. He had Ryou’s delicate cheekbones and eyes, his narrow nose and thinner lips. It was like he’d been reincarnated, and Bakura supposed he had been. He fought the Pharaoh in video games now, and snuggled on the couch with an orphan who’d been adopted by a hostel’s landlady and a tanuki who possessed a couch. It wasn’t weirder than anything else that’d ever happened to him.

Bakura snorted, smirked at his own reflection, and walked home, wanting to see Kek. He struggled for a second to get the key to turn in the worn out lock, but then he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Kek, I was wondering if you wanted- holy shit.” Bakura started laughing.

Bubbles covered the kitchen floor. In some areas, the suds rose almost half a meter tall. The mess soaked into the edge of the living room carpet.

“Just- shut- the- fuck- up!” Kek shouted through sobs. He knelt amidst the foam with a towel in each hand and tears running down his cheeks.

“Oi, oi.” Bakura shut the door, slipped off his shoes and socks, and tiptoed to the kitchen. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I can’t do this!” Kek wailed. “How am I supposed to be a human being when I can’t even run a dishwasher!” He rubbed his eyes against his bicep. “What did I do wrong? I don’t understand how I fucked up something so easy.”

“Did you use a tab?” Bakura asked as he crouched beside Kek.

“Tab? I used dish soap?”

“The liquid kind?”

“There’s more than one kind?” Kek’s face wrinkled, still shouting. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“You weren’t.” Bakura wrapped his arms around Kek and held him. “Tomoko didn’t have a dishwasher. How could you know? I only know because of Ryou.”

“Stupid Marik,” Kek hissed between clenched teeth. “If he was normal- I wouldn’t be so fucked up!”

“You wouldn’t exist.” Bakura used his thumb to tilt Kek’s face up. He smiled when Kek looked at him and traced Kek’s cheek. “And hey, I kinda enjoy the fact that you exist. This humanity thing would be underrated if I couldn’t watch you stumble through it with me.”

Tears welled up in Kek’s eyes, and Bakura hated seeing tears in his eyes.

“It’s just soap and water.”

“I fucked up all the towels.”

“I’ll go get some more.”

But Bakura didn’t stand up. Instead, he dropped down to his knees, allowing the bubbles and water to soak through his jeans, and leaned in to kiss Kek. They both closed their eyes as their lips moved tentatively against each other. When Bakura pulled away; Kek gasped.

“I’m going out to get towels-”

“We can’t afford-”

Bakura kissed him again and realized it was a great way to shut an Ishtar up. He should have kissed Kek back in Battle City. He’d take that over getting roasted by a god any time.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bakura shook his head. “Towels are cheap, and I’ve been stingy so I could get your present- which I’m also getting, so throw those towels in the wash, and I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know about the tabs.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bakura combed Kek’s hair with his fingers, and then got up and left before Kek could apologize again.

He went to the thrift store with soap-soaked pants. He grabbed the entire stack of towels, and the manager noticed Bakura carrying an armload of towels with wet pants and a sheepish look on his face, and she gave him a discount for buying the entire batch. After the thrift shop, Bakura counted up his money. He’d been trying to manage to save enough to get Kek a nice, red leather jacket that he’d seen, but the dishes, the eggs and rice, the extra towels… Bakura still had enough for something, but not a leather jacket. He sighed and started walking towards the house, glancing at the shops and wondering what the fuck he was going to do.

Then he saw the pet shop and had a brilliant idea. Bakura bought a fishbowl, dark purple gravel, dechlorinator, and two cheap fake plants. Then he went over to the betas and picked the brightest, most blood-red one he could find. His shopping bags in one hand, and a plastic container in the other, Bakura rushed back to the apartment with a huge grin on his face.

“I’m back!” He shouted into the apartment.

“Did you get the towels?” Kek asked, standing over the rice cooker with bubbles all around his feet. The apartment carried the warm scent of cooked rice as Kek used a regular spoon to stir it because they didn’t own a rice paddle yet.

“I got something better than towels.” Bakura held out the fish.

“Idiot.” Kek rubbed at his eyes, but didn’t cry again. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“I wanted to.” Bakura set everything down on their table.

Kek walked up behind him and, despite the wet floor, Kek picked Bakura up, turned him around, and set him on top of the table beside the fish. Bakura opened his mouth to complain, but Kek’s tongue slipped inside and he moaned instead.

“Thank you,” Kek whispered against Bakura’s lips. “You taught me how to say that, you know.”

“It’s just a bad habit I picked up from my old host.” Bakura chuckled at himself because the statement was true.

“H-how do I…” Kek pushed away from Bakura and went towards the fish.

“Put the gravel in the bowl. Add the plants. Fill with water. Then follow the directions for those drops.”

“It says it has to sit to work in the water.”

“Then let it sit. He’ll be fine in the cup until then.” Bakura stretched and groaned. He grabbed the towels and they used them to mop up the floor and then Bakura stripped and stuck in clothes and the towels in the washer.

“Should have saved one for yourself,” Kek said.

“Shit,” Bakura cursed. He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Whatever. I’m still taking a shower and drawing a bath to soak in afterward.” He glanced at Kek. “Want to join me in the bath?”

“W-wh-what?” Kek giggled, his face going flush even through his complexion.

“It’s common in Japan. You rinse off in the shower and then relax in the tub.”

“With other people?” Kek asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes.” Bakura snorted and walked towards the bathroom. “Look, I don’t care either way, just thought I’d offer.”

“I didn’t say no!” Kek followed.

“Give me a second to shower first.” Bakura laughed.

“You’re already naked. What’s the point of me waiting now?”

“Whatever.” Bakura stepped into the shower.

He washed his hair, soaped up, and rinsed everything as quickly as possible. He heard the bath running as he rinsed.  Bakura didn’t have a towel, so he had to wring out his hair the best he could and shake dry before stepping out of the shower cubicle.

“Thought you’d want to go straight to the tub,” Kek said.

“Thanks.” Bakura dipped his body into the huge bathtub. “Fuck. This is nice.”

“I’ll hop into the shower now.” Kek disappeared behind Bakura.

Bakura kept his eyes closed and relaxed. He heard the water turn on, then a few minutes later off, but didn’t bother opening his eyes until he felt Kek’s bodyweight displace the water in the tub.

“It’s nice, right?”

“Sure is.” Kek sighed.

“After today, we both deserve a bath.” Bakura stared at the ceiling. Water stains bloomed like yellow carnations

“I made rice.”

“Sounds freaking delicious.”

“We still don’t have towels.”

“I’ll use a shirt.”

Kek laughed. Bakura grinned and shifted so that he could look at Kek instead of the ceiling. “I’m serious. It won’t work as well, but fuck it? Better than dripping over the rest of the carpet.”

“You’re the same as always.” Kek rose out of the water.

“How do you mean?” Bakura averted his eyes, although he really wanted to stare at the way the water gleamed off of Kek’s body.

“Even when things don’t go according to plan, you just roll with it.”

“Ha, yeah. I had to learn that skill pretty early on. It’s the only way I survived.”

“Pffft, I’ll get some shirts then.”

Kek went away and returned with two of their more worn t-shirts. They did a piss-poor job drying, but Bakura made do and put on dry clothes. He used the wet shirt to wrap up his hair, adding a hair dryer to his mental list of shit they needed to buy.

“I’ll serve the rice.” Kek walked onto the now dry kitchen floor and grabbed their only two bowls out of the dishwasher. “There’s still bubbles in here.”

“Just rinse them off. I think we may actually have a dish towel left.”

“Fuck. I forgot dishtowels even exist.” Kek pulled the drawer and took one of the smaller towels out.

“I’m going to put the laundry in the dryer.”

Bakura shook his head even as he moved over to the washer. More and more he was adapting to regular life, but it was still odd to think about putting towels in the dryer. Not only was it the sort of thing he used to make Ryou deal with, but there hadn’t been dryers in Egypt thousands of years ago. Bakura would just wash his clothes in the river and nap naked in the sun until they were dry.

“Here’s dinner.” Kek set the bowls on the table.

He took the little cup and popped off the plastic lid, dumping the water into the bowl. The beta swirled like a quick flame before righting himself and breaking the surface for a breath.

“They breath air from the top.” Bakura pointed. “And they blow nests out of bubbles.”

“How do you know?”

“Granny rambles about them all the time.” Bakura started digging into his food. “It’s good.”

“Fucking liar. We don’t even have salt.”

Bakura laughed. “You’re right. I was lying. It’s not bad.”

“Makes it real, right?”

“Yes.” Bakura winked. “The Shadow Realm knows I love steak. It’d never try to tempt me with plain rice. This moment is utterly real.”

[marielleejiama]

It is officially the first day of summer! After a weird winter and a transitional spring (Mercy & I are both still getting settled after our recent moves--me to LA and her to DC temporarily), we are VERY excited for long summer days, warm nights and weekend road trips. As we settle back into the swing of all things with Marielle|Ejiama, we want to make sure you stay connected! Our site is under construction as we reconceptualize, but we’re super active on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr. Say ‘hey!’’ and follow along as we explore new cities and dig deeper as a brand.

With warm weather comes summer essentials, so we gathered a few favorites and a few items on our wishlist for you to check out. Disclaimer: as an eco friendly brand, we are BIG proponents of living a sustainable life, but we acknowledge that it’s a journey. Don’t be intimidated by thinking you have to get it all right tomorrow, you can start with one step at a time. Jasmine is a huge fan of thrifting and secondhand stores like Buffalo Exchange or Crossroads whenever she goes shopping for new clothes or shoes-so don’t forget to look at your local thrift shop before you buy something brand new!

SUMMER ESSENTIALS ROUND UP

Sunglasses- Solo Eyewear- If you’re searching for a new set of frames this summer may we suggest Solo? Classic shapes + edgy design details (everyone and their mom is into reflective eyewear this season) + eco friendly = divine.

Sunscreen-Biore UV Rich Aqua Watery Gel (Jasmine’s fave) Biore’s Watery Gel is the perfect everyday sunscreen because of its wide spectrum coverage, lightness and the fact that it dries completely matte! It never makes my skin break out and there is no white cast! Although my complexion is pretty light brown, I have had friends that are darker than me use it as well with no problems.

Lipcare- Burt’s Bees Lip Balm- For the days when you don’t feel like wearing lipstick, but want a little bit of color and moisture! Burt’s Bees pomegranate lip balm is one of my absolute favorites because it goes on smooth, gives a liiiittle bit of color and keeps me looking summer fresh.

Deodorant- Schmidt’s Natural Deodorant  (Jasmine’s fave) I’ve been on the quest to switch to natural deodorant for awhile now because I started to notice regular breakouts, itchiness and general irritation with the typical stuff we buy at the drugstore. After using another (that I really loved!) and purchased from Etsy, I was looking for something that I could quickly reorder when I ran out. After hearing about Schmidt’s for awhile I finally gave it a shot. I have the jar of lime+bergamot and love it! The smell is amazing and it actually works. I sweat a decent amount and recently went on a hike at Runyon Canyon with my best friend and it stood up to the test!

Crop Top- M|E summer ‘14 crop After the success of the dresses and with large scraps from cutting the dresses, we HAD to make crop tops. What started out as an effort to minimize waste became one of our favorite pieces. Perfect for casual summer days, cover up at the beach or music festivals. $25? [message us for size info + how to purchase] 

Summer dress- M|E summer ‘14 dresses The OGs! These were the first two dresses Mercy and I made and sold. Organic cotton fabric, non-toxic screen printing ink that was screen printed in a (at the time) local Brooklyn screen printer and made in Harlem. With two easy styles-for the ladies who like a little suns out guns out or the ones that favor a boxy fit- they’re a must for anyone looking for a perfect easy summer dress! With limited quantities we are re-releasing these styles!  $40 [message us for size info + how to purchase]

Books- ‘Let My People Go Surfing’ by Yvon Chouinard (Jasmine’s fave) Patagonia brings the idea of ‘eco-fashion’ to a whole other level and is one of the pioneers of our industry. After longing to read this book for several years, I finally got a copy from Strand bookstore right before I left NY. Easily one of my favorite books, it will open your eyes to how fashion and the environment are locked into an eternal dance + how you can do your part to support our planet without sacrificing style.

Re-usable tote bag- Plant These to Help Save Bees tote Re-usable + cute! Of course there are a number of places to purchase re-usable tote bags, like Baggu or even Trader Joe’s, but we’re fond of this one for its message + design. Helping to educate others about the kinds of plants that bees like as well as helping cut down on plastic waste by encouraging reusable options is a match made in heaven.

Shoes- Nisolo’s Cora Wrap Sandal Let your toes warm in the sun with these flat, minimalist sandals. Nisolo is a super cute sustainable and ethical footwear brand, and we’re always excited to discover shoemakers that value design, the producers, and the earth. Can’t wait to grab a pair to flop through the sand in.

 Stay tuned for the swimsuits + bikinis we have our eyes on this summer…

xx, 

M|E