#where I would open them and be prepared to doodle a whole bunch

[celestetcetera]

bmc doodle dump

[starakex]

Wurmple Build Log

Guess who's back to drop another overly detailed post about a cosplay project. Another Pokémon one, unsurprisingly! My dumb ass made a Nargacuga fursuit head back in 2020 so I could learn how to work with upholstery foam. It looked... alright... but I know in my heart it was a horrible, horrible mess. Fast forward to 2023, I go to a 3-day convention, wear a bunch of different heavy wigs the whole time, get a rash on my forehead and think, fuck it, I am cringe and I am free, I'm gonna finally live the dream and make a Pokémon suit. It'll be great, and I won't have to wear a wig; I'll just have to worry about heat strokes instead. Fun! Of course, in true shitpost fashion, my perfect fursuit candidate has 10 legs and is shaped like a sausage.

Click on over to read the wondrous tale of building a Wurmple Partial Suit in like two weeks.

1. The Worm

Wurmple started as a dumb little sketch in the corner of my notebook. I have a lot of cosplays and plushes under my belt but the last fursuit (head) kinda looked like it would belong in a bootleg Freddy Fazbear establishment, so I brainstormed over a bunch of Pokémon I like that would work as a partial and are simple enough in design to avoid accidentally creating Uncle Uncanny 2.0. The goal was something that would be relatively comfortable and easy to bring to events 'cause I'm just not mentally prepared to drag a suitcase in public transport and wear a full body sweat carpet yet. I ended up doodling a few ideas like Haunter or Koffing, but then I pictured a Bug Catcher trainer with a bug head and I thought it was funny as hell, so the choice was made. I picked up my copy of Alpha Sapphire to get a good look at the model and immediately ran into a problem; the eyes on Wurmple are literally on the side of the head. They sit so flush you literally cannot see them if you look at them from the front. Not a great start. I figured I could probably hide a small hole for vision right above the mandibles where the red and cream colors separate. I wasn't super confident it would work, but dammit, I was already commited to being a stupid Bug Bug Catcher. Similarly, I looked at the side profile and figured I could open a hole behind the mandibles at mouth height to breathe out of. With an disproportionate amount of confidence for the bullshit I'm about to summon into the world, I began the project by patterning out the tail.

2. Bug Ass

I'll be honest, I started on the tail so I wouldn't have a reason to back out of it if the head ended up being a hot mess. I've patterned out and sewn a few plush before, so making a big ol' headless grub sounded like a reasonable goal. I usually make plush patterns by building out the shape with newspaper and tape, but Wurmple's tail got pretty big when scaled to fit a human, so I searched for alternatives. I ended up building the base shape to draw a pattern out of by taping two pillows together. I tied down small sections to shape the belly and slapped a layer of masking tape over half of it to trace my pattern. Once everything looked good, I cut the pattern pieces out and laid them flat. The pillows were returned to the couch safely once they recovered from the barbaric treatment.

I dug through my materials storage (a sad lonely plastic bin) for some Trash Fabric ™ leftovers from other Trash Projects ™ and tested the pattern out to see how it looked. I made the pattern for the spikes and legs at that point based on the test build and adjusted some seams on the tape pattern to refine some shapes, but overall the first pattern was a great success!

With the mockup done, I pulled out the minky fabric and got to sewing the tail together. I picked minky for the project 'cause it felt right for the cartoony 3d models to have that smooth short-pile look in real life (kinda like the official mascots, really). I was aware the margin for error when your fur pile is 3mm long is basically non-existent, but hey, at least I could work without a respirator on unlike fur! Sewing the body of the tail was pretty straightforward; I assembled the belly panels together, stitched the darts on the red parts to form the curve, and attached the backside of the zigzag spikes to it. I assembled the top and bottom halves together, tacked each zigzag down in place by hand, and filled the whole thing with polyester stuffing to see my beautiful bug sausage take shape.

Once I was sure it everything looked good. I stitched six little white legs and attached them onto the belly by hand using the belly seams as a guide.

Before moving on to the top spikes, I took a break from handsewing to build the tail base. It's a little nub made out of sandwiched upholstery foam with a belt running through a channel carved into the foam. It's topped off with a layer of high density EVA Foam glued at the base to keep the anchor point sturdy. Huge thanks to Neffertity for her tail tutorials as this was the main inspiration behind the method I used for the tail attachment. The foam nub goes about a quarter of the way through the tail, with the rest of it being filled up with the polyester stuffing that was added earlier.

Once the tail attachment point was secured, I started sewing all the spikes for the top half of the tail, stuffed them, and then stitched each of them to the tail by hand. Once they were all stitched on securely, I sewed the back closed with one last minky piece and Wurmple's tail was complete!

(Looking back, I could probably have machine stitched the legs and spikes on... But I was watching some really good Resident Evil Randomizer streams while handsewing these, so I didn't wanna get off the couch to work on the pattern again)

I'm so glad I started with the tail. It was basically a big plush, and I was so proud of the results when I was done that I was energized to start working on the head. Oh right, the stupid worm head with no vision.

3. The Head

Building up the shape of Wurmple's head was simple enough. I began by building a bucket head base out of upholstery foam by following Skyehigh's Studios old tutorial (new one linked here) and slapped some paper on it to figure out the size of the main elements; the mandibles and the eyes. I immediately regret following the tutorial steps for the eye holes, since I Forgot We Weren't Gonna Be Doing That, and mark where my cyclops eyehole is generally going to be instead.

Once I was satisfied with my patterns, I cut some more upholstery foam slabs, carved them with scissors until I got down to the general shape of the mandibles and horns, and glued them onto the base. I immediately got another stress injury carving everything down and realized I did not learn from my wig ventilating mistakes. I took a break to add a turkey carver to my online shopping bookmarks, which I immediately forgot about until I sat down to write this post. Since I was using minky for this project, I needed to make sure my base was as smooth as possible. The fabric is so thin it would pick up every wrinkle ever and look sad if I didn't. I dug into the bin for some Trash Felt ™ and glued it over the mandibles to smooth things out and added some mesh to the holes of the bucket head base to keep the curved shape of the head going without sacrificing those sweet ventilation holes. I also added my vision hole and marveled at my horrifying Mando helmet abomination. At that point in time I'm having some big doubts about the vision hole, but I trudge on because I'm not just gonna wear a bug ass to these conventions.

With the base complete, I covered the whole thing in tape and drew over it like I did with the tail to create a pattern, made sure to forget to take pictures of said pattern so that this step is lost to time, and started sewing the head fabric so I could slap some skin on this bad boy, starting with the horns. At the same time, I stitched the darts on the mandibles, pinned that to the head for later, and assembled the red halves of the head together on the back seam to test the fit.

With the test fit successful, I pulled the red part off in order to machine stitch it to the front half of the head along the zigzag edge and slipped the whole thing over the head again. With everything in place, I painstakingly handstitched everything up, including the side of the mandibles and the horns.

Somewhere in the magical stretch of time between midnight and 5 in the morning, I somehow summoned the inner lining of the head out of french terry knit, a tape pattern and a dream. I also painted a little piece of buckram for the eye mesh to match the red fabric and glued that to the inside of the head. I included a little velcro pocket on the back of the neck in the lining to insert a powerbank for the fans (which I then proceeded to procrastinate on installing for a whole 4 months afterwards). Since I'm an idiot and took no pictures signed an NDA with the Midnight Craft Wizard, here's a picture of the fan installation in the mandibles with velcro so they can be removed to wash it. (Fan kit by Henry's Helmet Fans)

Once the head was completed, I finally went to sleep. And then I woke up at noon and remembered I forgot the eyes WHOOPS I cut four circles out of high density EVA Foam (Two of them smaller for the pupils), heat shaped a slight curve to them, and covered them with minky. I glued the pupils to the irises and then I glued those suckers to the head and NOW THE HEAD WAS ACTUALLY DONE WOOHOO

Turns out hiding the vision hole right over the mandibles was... Actually a decent idea, in the end. It blends pretty well into the face at a short distance. The mouth opening also isn't visible in most angles so I can actually breathe pretty well, and I can even wear a portable necklace fan and have it blow hair into the head without making poor Wurmple eat the fan.

I took it for a test run and realized the eye vision in the suit was actually pretty damn bad overall because the minky covered half of the original hole up, especially on the sides. I took a heat gun and some scissors to the head so I could peel it back around the vision hole, cut some material out to open it up more, and glued everything back down with a new piece of mesh. Now I have like 40 more degrees in my cone of vision, which puts me on par with some of the guys in Metal Gear Solid.

With those adjustments done, the head was finally complete!

4. Get Worm'd on

Turns out I like it a whole lot, whoops. It's definitively not perfect (what costume ever is?), but it looks leagues better than I expected it would, so it works out. Looking back, I don't think I'd really do anything else differently on the build. I still got to make the Bug Catcher outfit to go along with it, but with winter in full swing there's no rush to do so. Definitively looking forward to making a net, though!

If you're still reading, thank you for getting through my ramblings! I hope it was an interesting read, and maybe even provided some insights or inspirations for your own future projects.

❤️

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

7, 8, 17, 22, 24, 29, 33, 36

I love that you sent me a load of numbers right as I'm preparing to send you a metric ton of them too. 🤣

What is your deepest joy about writing?

OOOOOOH OKAY hmm… I guess creating storylines that I love :)

If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

Action! I looove writing dialogue, but I struggle a lot with action scenes.

Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I have… many WIPs um 😅

Wellll one uses bugs as a metaphor (I think metaphor is the right word). To be specific, roly-polys! Though I am calling them wood lice in the fic because that’s what one of the characters calls them for some reason.

To get in The Mood for this fic, I listened to a whole freaking PODCAST ABOUT BUGS!!! IT WAS SO ENTERTAINING!!!

The podcast-person is actually Wilbur Soot, the actor for the character I’m writing about agahsbqiaviqgq it worked out really well!

But seriously hearing Wilbur talk about bugs is like. So much fun. I got to hear him talk about the time he caught a fly and showed his dad’s friends and then immediately was overcome with guilt that he’d captured the fly so he let it go. And also the time that a spider bit his pencil and he couldn’t pull it away (???). And also the time he found a caterpillar and brought it to school for show and tell and the teacher decided to keep the caterpillar to use for the class and the caterpillar turned into a cocoon but Wilbur didn’t really know what a cocoon was so he thought the caterpillar had died so he started crying alsvwkafajag

And then the caterpillar turned into a moth (Wilbur wanted it to turn into a butterfly) so he just sat in his classroom and pouted lol

AND THOSE ARE JUST SOME OF THE THINGS HE TALKED ABOUT!!! HE ALSO WADED INTO THE OCEAN AT MIDNIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A STORM TO COLLECT SALTWATER AND PUT IT IN A JAR!!! AND HE HAD A ROLY-POLY INFESTATION AT HIS HOUSE BUT HE DIDN’T CARE SO HE JUST LET THEM STAY!!! BECAUSE HE LOVES ROLY-POLYS!!!

Anyway I listened to that podcast in order to get inspiration akavaksvaksvajv

I also got inspired by some art! Here’s the link!

There was also some dialogue that I really wanted to use, but unfortunately it didn’t end up fitting 😭

I’m gonna save it to use later though, because I really do like it!

How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Fairly organized? I use Evernote, and have different folders for different genres of fics. There’s two main folders, and then a bunch of smaller ones for series/AU’s.

I use my notes app to jot down random ideas, and I also have a blue notebook that I use for the same purpose!

How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

Usually a fair bit! I’ll get the First Idea, and then spend some time daydreaming about it. Then I’ll write it all down, daydream some more, develop it, etc. After that I’ll usually start writing!

I typically plan out the opening-middle of the story, but I don’t really have an ending planned out in a lot of cases. Not always the case, but usually.

I enjoy this process, yeah!

Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

From literally everywhere. Art, music, other fics, movies, scenes in books, one time I even got inspired by watching a janitor?

When inspiration runs dry, I tend to just… chill. Not really worry about writing or ideas; I’ll spend time doing other things in the meantime.

Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

Not really, no. I mean, I doodle sometimes, but it isn’t something I’m particularly good at nor something I enjoy a whole lot.

They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

OOOOOOH WELL I know many things aksvajsvkagahv most of which I’ve researched a ton for writing purposes!

How unborn babies act/develop in the womb

How little kids act/talk/look at the world

GOOD DIALOGUE

Ukulele… I guess? Don’t know why I’d write about it aksgsisgaigs but I know a lot about it!!!

Autism (I myself am not autistic and obviously I don’t know everything about it, but I went through a phase a couple years ago where I researched tons about it over several months, so I do know a lot about it)

Dream SMP lore… especially Wilbur/Ghostbur lore mwahahahahaha

So much about Star Wars. So so much

[merakiui]

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[seraphdarlimg]

wish I were (pt2)

 harry acts like everything is good and dandy but reader sees Heather wearing the sweater

part 1 here

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST WORD COUNT - 1,892

A/N: hehe because it was december 3rd, I just had to get this chapter done to post even if it might be a little late but here ya go 

____________________________________________________________

      My guitar rested on my thigh as i brought my head down to lay on the fret, staring at the blank piece of lined paper in front of me. I sighed, turning my head away and just bathed in the silence of the separate room from the main studio. The weight on my chest might of suggested the frustration out of my creative block, unable to produce words or lyrics for the past weeks. Or that I was progressively losing the will to even pick up an instrument, as strumming the strings took a lot of energy for me to do. 

The oversized hoodie I brought kept me warm, but i knew that wasn't satisfying enough. However the idea of wearing one of his hoodies I've place in a closed box in the corner of my apartment hurt too much and that now I'm back in the studio after weeks of trying to avoid coming here at all costs. After the New Year's party, I've done nothing but wallow up in my apartment alone, trying to come up with songs as quickly as possible just so I could get this project done and over with. That proved to be difficult however, especially with Harry trying to call on a normal basis.

  "Helllooo bubs, why haven't you been showing up at the studio eh?" "You said at the beginning of this project that I could work at home whenever I want. I'm just taking you up on that offer." "Of course, you'd remember me sayin' that. How've you been love, haven't seen you in a while though." "Fine, just been doing my job." "Well yeah, can't write all these lovely songs without your talent, can I? You gonna come in tomorrow then?" 

I hesitated for a second, biting my tongue when I felt my eyes pool up again. "I'll just send a pdf of lyrics to you Harry." "O-oh. Well that would conventionally work... yes but you have to come in tomorrow though." "Why? Just text me what you like and don't like about the verses and I'll fix them." "Bubs you know how I feel about in person collaboration. Plus the deadlines are coming up and it'll be easier and faster to have you in the studio." "Okay." He hesitates this time and I could see his brows furrowed together as well as having a hand on his hip. Most likely wearing lose sweats and the knitted cardigan he's been falling in love with over the months. His hair a bit longer than it was last time I saw him and his pink lips quirked to the side in thought. Maybe the bags under his eyes are gone, has been looking more happier lately. More happier than I could of made him to be over the months. "Are you okay?" "I have to go Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh see yo-"

      He was the first one to greet me when I arrived, and I wanted nothing more than to burst out sobbing when I see his smile. It took everything not to do so, giving him a tight lip smile and quick side hug before sitting down farthest away from him. For the first hour and a half of discussion, I didn't say much and zoned off a lot, tuning in and out of the conversation Harry leaded about a song he had written recently. I felt his glances on me when I turned away, probably sensing my unwillingness to comment so he was considerate enough to not put me under the spotlight in the discussion. In the middle of it, Harry's phone started ringing and he didn't waste a second to excuse himself to answer it. "Hello? Oh hey darling, you almost here?" I froze when he grows a cheesy smile on his face as he walks further to the other side of the studio before telling us to continue without him. I took a deep breathe, not mentally prepared to be in the same room as her. Has she always been coming to the studio or did I just choose to worse day to finally come in? I try to focus doodling in my little notebook, but it grew harder and harder to focus on anything else but the way he crosses his arms and laughs while on the phone with her. From the corner of my eye, it was definite he's completely captivated just hearing her voice and I could just picture the angelic tone of it. I didn't realize I was tapping my pencil till I hear Sarah calling out my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay, haven't seen you in a while." I nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah sorry, been getting a lot of work opportunities and just a bunch of family stuff that's exhausted me." Sarah gives me a look that resembles one of a mother who knows their child isn't telling the full truth, but she nods and pats my hand. "Completely understandable. But that's exciting, new artists been reaching out to you n' all that?" "Ha surprisingly, considering saying yes to all of them." my smile was growing genuine a little, thinking about how content I was with my career. Being a lyricist and songwriter was a definite risky path to take in terms of stability, but it made me happier knowing I was able to to do. "Oh of course, you can totally do it. Probably wanted to see what all the hype was about when Harry couldn't stop talking about you at every social gathering he's been at." Sarah chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "Yeah?" I quickly looked down, feeling my eyes water as the pang in my chest came back. "Mhmm, acts like Thomas and Mitch don't even exist." I laugh lightly at that, fiddling with my fingers as I focused down on my notebook. I found myself in an awkward situation, not knowing how to continue the conversation but knowing I didn't want to try. I love Sarah, but I was close to break down right there if I tried and it was not the place to do so. Not when everyone is trying to meet deadlines and Harry was about to walk in with Heather at any moment. "Hey, I actually have a lot of emails to respond to so I'm gonna be in the other room." I stood up, taking a guitar and my notebook. "Might actually be better for me to focus in." "Sure, we'll let Harry know." I gave her a grateful smile, walking out into the hallway to a different room. I let out another shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed once I was finally alone. But before I could close the door, I hear her. I peak out to see both her and Harry standing at the entrance of the building, huddled close together. "Sorry I forget it gets this cold in LA sometimes." She says, looking up at him while he rubs the sleeves of his sweater that was wrapped perfectly around her. It was a simple orange stripped sweater. A vintage that Harry bought in Vienna and became one of his favorites. It was just a simple polyester sweater, but it became my favorite too. So it was hard to give it back after wearing it that night we kissed, but fuck was it harder to see her wearing it. Now as I sit alone with no sense of motivation to do anything else but wallow in my own pity I thought about a lot of things. I should be angry, be fuming and cursing at Harry for how he's been acting. I should confront him, make him feel as hurt as he made me for choosing her. Or maybe I should hate Heather, despise her for taking the chance I had with him. But deep down I know I couldn't hate Heather. She's such an angel, it wasn't her fault he's still hung up on her. And as much as the image of his arm wrapped around her kills me, I couldn't hate him either for the same reason. She looked prettier in his sweater than I did. "You okay in here bubs?" As if the tears welling up in my eyes and heavy weight on my chest wasn't enough, the sound of knuckles against the door and his voice calling out my name made me almost sob. "Yeah, I'm good. Door's open." I quickly try to compose myself when he enters the room, giving me that warming smile of his. "Just wanted to check up on ya, been quiet since you got here." Harry looks at me with concerning eyes as he places a hand on my shoulder before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in front of me. Keep your hand on my shoulder, the second it was there all the nerves went away. I wanted to say but instead I fake a smile again, waving it off and shrugging. "Oh no, just have a lot on my plate don't worry." He nods, feeling his eyes on me while I try to avoid his by opening my laptop and skimming through my inbox. "Sarah told me about different singers reaching out to you." He points at my laptop before taking a seat on the chair to the side. I nodded, humming while I typed out quick responses. "Yup, thanks by the way but now I gotta sort out a whole schedule for this year." I took a glance up to see him focused on my song journal on the table in front of us.

“So...you and Heather huh?” The sheepish smile he has tugs my heart strings but I tried to keep from fumbling with my fingers.

“Yeah uhh...” He scratches the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his hands and looking like a young kid with a crush. “Started talking again and catching up, been working out stuff between us since the party.”

I tilt my head to the side, motioning him to continue. “She’s gorgeous...”

“She’s amazing.”

I finally looked away from him and onto my screen, letting out a little chuckle. 

“So you guys are back together?”

“No no, we’re just sort of figuring things out at the moment.” Though it was an answer I was hoping for, the look in his face was none the less comforting. 

“Well, hope everything goes great. You guys look perfect together.” I managed to say, going back to typing while he only responds with a nod and hum.

There was silence. Does he not feel it too? Uncomfortable silence was never a thing between us but it was prevalent here. "Not gonna leave early are you though?" He says out of no where and I stopped typing for a sec to give my attention to him. "Not going to ditch me for someone else of course." He says it with a laugh, playing it off like an obvious joke... but the way he looked at me. Part of me wanted to scream at how oblivious and selfish that statement sounded coming from him, as if he has no idea the drastic shift our relationship has taken. But I see the vulnerability in his eyes, sensing the subtext in his question that is practically asking me to stay. Stick by his side and help finish this passion project he's dedicated to put out, not only for his fans but for himself. Be with him to figure out what to do next, even if I would be in a different county or continent and working with someone else. Keep in touch throughout because I've become an important person in his life. Even if that person who used to fill that spot came back, he's still here and asking me to stay with him in a similar sense. It wasn't the kind of love I wanted, but never the less, it was still love from Harry. Did the smile I wear at that moment reach my eyes? When I placed my hand on top of his in reassurance, was the hesitance obvious? Maybe he did notice the little signs, but he took my hand in his anyways and placed it against his heart. 

"Of course, 'm always gonna here Harry."

____________________________________________________________

part 3

A/N: guys my heart hurts writing this lol. There’s gonna be one or two more parts of this series, but thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 288: ZOOM AND ENHANCE

Previously on BnHA: Tomura, AFO, Deku, and Nana all met up inside of OFA and were all, “wow this is awkward.” AFO talked a whole bunch about vestiges before realizing that nobody cared (EXCEPT FOR ME. I CARED!!), and was then all “anyway so just to get everyone up to speed here, Tomura is Nana’s grandson.” OFA appeared and was all “what up bro I see you’re still a dick”, and then everyone stood around for a bit waging psychokinetic war on each other and blowing up on the ground and shit. This didn’t really accomplish anything, so AFO shifted gears and started trash talking Deku instead, because he’s a whiny little punkass loser who can’t admit when his brother has gotten the best of him yet again! OFA was all “anyways Deku rules and haters gonna hate, peace”, and then everyone wooshed back out of OFA and back into the real world, Deku with his quirk still intact. Meanwhile Gigantomachia and the LoV stampeded ever closer to the city, and Toga started monologuing in preparation for a seemingly inevitable battle with Ochako! And then the chapter basically just ended there lol.

Today on BnHA: Imagine you are Uraraka Ochako. And you’re out here doing what you do best, saving bitches and being a badass, when all of a sudden some old lady runs up to you and is all “PLEASE HELP ME, MY HUSBAND IS ASLEEP OR SOME SHIT, YOU KNOW US OLD PEOPLE, WE’RE SO FUCKING FEEBLE AND HAPLESS.” And so you’re all “OF COURSE” because you’re a good fucking person, and then she speeds off like she’s got fucking wheels and it’s like damn, grandma, were you in varsity track or what, and then OUT OF NOWHERE she just spontaneously turns into HIMIKO FUCKING TOGA. And she’s all naked and shit, and it’s like damn, Toga, where are your clothes, and she just giggles and ducks into a nearby building. And so you follow her for god knows what reason, and she fucking pounces on you and starts interrogating you in like the most seductive way possible, and you’re all wtf is this. Like, can you even imagine. Anyway so Ochako is having quite a day.

okay lol so I’ve gotta kind of rush through this since I’ve got other stuff I need to wrap up today as well, so! fingers crossed that we get a nice, simple chapter with no controversies or elaborate revelations or anything like that! just give me lots of stuff to mindlessly keysmash about, Horikoshi. I’m counting on you bro

lol what

an actual fucking plane?? is that allowed?? how bizarrely normal. are we sure this plane does not shoot lasers or something or is powered by someone with like a fusion reactor quirk idk

and who tf is Takeo-san. some random guy Horikoshi is suddenly introducing after 300 chapters to come save everyone at the last minute? pretty sus. Horikoshi is this your self insert

GASP

NO WAY THIS IS ALL MIGHT, RIGHT?? holy shit I swear to god if it’s All Might this lady needs to TURN THE FUCK AROUND RIGHT NOW. stop at McDonalds, order a black coffee for herself and only herself, and drive the rest of the way back home without so much as a bathroom break. there are certain prophecies which we don’t need to be tempting right now, okay people?? holy shit

(ETA: OR, here’s a thought, WHAT IF IT’S BEST JEANIST. hope springs eternal lmao. anyways though surely it’s not actually All Might. he can’t die yet, he’s got like 5 million secret things he needs to explain to Deku, and also Kacchan is unconscious and he can’t just SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH ALL MIGHT’S DEATH like come on.)

oh look more heroes all lining up to be slaughtered by Machia

real talk, at this point their priority should just be evacuating any citizens in Machia’s path, and then getting the fuck out of his way. none of them stand a chance in hell at stopping him and they know it. the body count is already high enough as it is. regroup and live to fight another day, people

anyway, so Machia is apparently plowing through cities at 100km per hour. that... actually might not be fast enough. Gunga and Jakku were 80km apart, so at that rate it would take him nearly an hour to reach Tomura. that fight’s gonna be long done by the time they get there. huh

okay these guys are saying he’s going to reach them in about 8 minutes. ?? so are you telling me Tomura and Deku and the rest have been fighting for like 40 minutes already?? lmao Gran probably bled to death half an hour ago at this rate. Horikoshi please explain yourself. some of us spent our entire childhoods doodling comics instead of paying attention in math and science AND IT SHOWS

anyway so this is all very bad and this guy is really rubbing it in just how bad it is

I mean... yeah. obviously the villains are still to blame at the core of it all, but yeah. feels like you all could have planned a hell of a lot better for this. you knew there was the risk of Tomura waking up, and you knew there was also the risk of Gigantomachia waking up as well. and you pretty much had no contingency plan at all huh. society is really gonna be in shambles after this

lmao look at this shit. Machia is so big at this point that it looks like they’re having a picnic in the middle of some desert somewhere. at what point does it cease being a guy’s back and start being its own zip code

even has its own wifi. amazing

oh shit Compress apparently spotted someone and he’s asking Skeptic to “zoom and enhance” like it’s CS fucking I. that’s not how it works Compress you fucking boomer

anyway so OF COURSE,

was there a reason you needed to zoom in on them, other than to trigger Toga?? some people just want to watch the world burn

so Toga is now GEARIN’ UP!!

that honestly is so fucking handy. over at U.A. they have to carry their gear in briefcases like scrubs. does Compress actually have the best quirk in the world?? it flies under the radar so well that I always forget about it, but like WHAT CAN’T IT DO though, y’know??

WELL WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN MY DUDE

“oh hey is that the U.A. kids? Skeptic could you please zoom in on them for absolutely no reason? OH MY GOD TOGA IS RUNNING OFF TO FIGHT THEM, OH MY GOD WHO COULD HAVE FORESEEN, OH MY GOD”

now he’s all “DABI PLEASE DO SOMETHING” but Dabi is all “DABI DON’T CARE”

Dabi don’t care about NOTHING OR NO ONE!! Dabi don’t got time for this

lmao I literally forgot that Spinner was even there, shit

so are you gonna go with her then or not? because I got news for you dude, it doesn’t matter how heartwarming your speech is, nothing can stop this girl now that she’s gone full distracted boyfriend meme

AW BUT IT REALLY IS HEARTWARMING THOUGH

Spinner is the glue keeping this dysfunctional Addams family together honestly. too bad he couldn’t stop Compress from OPENING HIS BIG DUMB MOUTH ah well

lmao but he’s letting her go anyway though

Spinner for new LoV President. all in favor??

ANYWAYS LOL THIS IS BAD

“ACCELERATE EVACUATIONS” LOL WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO OCHAKO HE’S MOVING AT 100KM AN HOUR AND HE’S LIKE FUCKING GODZILLA SIZED FKJLK

“PLEASE RUN OUTSIDE OF THE VILLAIN’S PERIPHERY” well thank fucking god the people have you guys to guide them what would they even do without you lklkhlkds

NO HORIKOSHI DON’T YOU DARE

IF YOU HURT MY GIRL FROPPY I SWEAR TO GOD!! LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BRIGAND

OH THANK GOD

“sorry for SAVING YOUR LIFE” smh. anyway so how fucking badass is Ochako though?? can we just talk about this. THE GIRL POWER ARC STRIKES AGAIN hot damn

(ETA: and btw, seeing as Iida is nowhere to be found, I’d say odds are pretty good that they did in fact send him to go warn the Endeavorsquad of Gigantomachia’s imminent arrival. godspeed Iida! they need all the help they can get right now honestly.)

EXCUSE ME BUT ARE YOU TOGA

IS THIS TOGA. THIS IS DEFINITELY TOGA OMG

“I IMMEDIATELY TRUST YOU AND I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH” noooo Ochako nooooo

damn Toga you really drained some poor old lady’s blood just so you could pull this kind of sneaky shit. I forgot how much I loved you

ohhhh lol so it’s her “husband” that is Takeo-san lol

THE BETTER TO LURE YOU INTO A TRAP MY DEAR

lmao Ochako you rube

now you’ve done it Toga. there is nothing Ochako loves more than a good old fashioned Old People Romance. DID YOU KNOW SHE HAS SEEN THE NOTEBOOK LIKE FIFTY TIMES. AND NO MATTER WHAT, IT ALWAYS GETS HER AT THE END. meanwhile I just want to watch a movie where James Marsden actually gets the girl for once but we all know that will never happen

OH MY

ngl this page would be like a thousand times better if Ochako was still blushing omg. did I ship this before?? I honestly can’t remember but I sure as fuck ship it now goddammit

(ETA: pretty sure I shipped it back during the Forest arc too but I don’t have time to check right now lol. but Toga is just so horny on main for everyone, all the time, and so like, it’s hard not to ship it.)

so now Toga is running off all flirtatiously and Ochako is barreling after her lol

plot twist, Takeo-san is actually in there. and he has NO IDEA what’s going on. WHAT HAPPENED TO MY WIFE. WHY IS THERE A GIANT MOLE MAN BURROWING THROUGH THE CITY

Ochako why on earth would you follow Toga into this dark creepy house where she could spring at you from any angle out of nowhere. just go back outside and float up over it until you have a high enough vantage point to see all the exits and just wait for her to come out

Toga says she wanted to talk to Tsuyu-chan as well, but let’s be real, you and her don’t have the same kind of electrically charged kismesis energy that you’ve got going on with Ochako though

LMAO DEKU NOWHERE IS SAFE

getting dragged like a fucking wedding train and he’s not even there to defend himself, shit

blah blah blah just ask her your question already Toga

MY WORD

would someone please inform Toga that this manga is only rated PG-13

so now Ochako is all “seriously Toga wtf”

you see that’s what I wanted to know too, lol. I really like that the characters actually think about these things and ask these kind of questions. that’s exactly the contrast between the heroes and the villains right there. the villains care about each other, they’ll give each other heartwarming speeches to please come back alive, and yet they’re utterly indifferent to the thousands of people being killed as they demolish their way through city after city. meanwhile by contrast Ochako’s first thought upon being erotically waylaid by her sexy knife-wielding archnemesis is “but what about that poor old lady is she all right.” just completely opposite energies, almost to a hilarious degree. like maybe Ochako actually should worry about herself just a little bit more lol but heroes gonna hero

and so now what, Toga!! you’re gonna pout about it?? like she’s betrayed you somehow?

anyway so that’s the end of the chapter! and I’ll just come right out and say that I’m hoping that this fight ends up being something where Toga maybe starts to see things just a little bit more from Ochako’s point of view, and not the other way around, because otherwise I’ll be a little frustrated, ngl. the manga has done an excellent job of making the villains likeable and relatable and getting us to sympathize with them up till this point, but at some point it’s got to start refuting some of these arguments and making it clear that the villains do not actually have any kind of moral high ground here

and also! I really like Toga and would like her to have some kind of redemption arc! but as of now that’s looking to be really difficult if not impossible to pull off, because Toga hasn’t exactly shown a whole lot of remorse for anything she’s done so far, you know? because she doesn’t see it as bad in any way; to her it’s just her way of expressing love, and being true to who she is. but being true to yourself really should NOT involve, you know, MURDER, and so yeah. it’s a problem lmao

but who knows! maybe this battle with Ochako will be the start of something which eventually leads to some sort of change within her! I have absolutely no idea how that could play out tbh, but even so I can hope! either that or she will double down on the whole “villains are victims and heroes are apathetic cruel hypocrites” ideology and decide she wants to kill Ochako and Izuku for breaking her heart, in which case I will be very sad, but I guess if that’s the way Horikoshi’s gonna play it it is what it is!

and lastly, so is this going to be like the final battle between them or something?? surely not, right? like this is just round 2 of 3. well at any rate, it’s sure going to be interesting

[after-valiant-hero-ask]

Soooo, somehow the "keep reading" Thing on tumblr kinda beoken for me, so I can't really post this with the keep reading, but also, I made a post about going to make a fandic of After Valiant Hero that takes place BEFORE the main event onthe comic, sooo, here it is!! I hope you all enjoy it! (And also, it's 2.000+ words long, so, it's kinda long^^)

============================

"TONIGHT"

by LovelyPink2005

——————————

Summary:

This takes 2 months after the valiant Hero ending, right when the toppats decided to celebrate their fully recovered airship and the clan, but something is up with sven that made him missed the whole party.

Note:

I'm not that good on english, so, I'm so sorry if this fic came out bad^^"

And also, this is a fanfic I wrote about the story of the messy doodle/sketch comic I did of sven and Charles on whiteboard, so, uhhh, yeah^^"

——————————

It was the day after they did their first heist after recovering their airship and their clan, which is 2 months after the Valiant Hero ending. It also charles's first time too, he feels strange for doing that, like there's something wrong with it but can't quite put a finger on it. He decided to forget about it. "It's probably just the side effect."

 

The toppat clan wanted to celebrate it for their success, they talk to talk, share to share about having a party for it, until it delivered to charles and sven who is on their room. "A party huh?" Sven said as he put his hand on his chin, thinking about it. "Suits yourself, If you wanted to celebrate it, then go for it" He continue with a smile on his face. He turned his head to charles to see his face full of excitement for that party, like he never had them before.

"Sven" Charles called as he put his hand on sven's shoulder. "Let's have it tonight!"

"Yeah, sure..." Sven paused, looking down for a second, and lifted his face back to charles. "Sure!".

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, if you all want it, then go for it."

"Alright, I'll go inform the others about this." He gives sven a pat on the back before leaving the room.

Sven waves and wanted to say "c'ya" to charles very badly, but charles already left them room. Sighed, and sits back to his bed, and looked up on the ceiling, smiling. "Hey, are you ok there..?" His face could easily shows you a bit of sadness, and pain. Sven was talking to himself, but really, he just missed his old friend.

Someone who used to be around him, a friend who ALWAYS around him ever since he joined the toppat clan. Burt Curtis. That's his name. Sven and Burt joined the toppat clan on the same day years ago, they even meet right before entering the airship. They keeps on running into each other as their relationship grows, until they become the best of friends. Even after Sven become the leader, their relationship or friendship still is the same.

But… sadly… He died at the orbital station when it exploded. got left behind because he was trapped on a room and couldn't get out. Sven wish he could found him, but the other toppats dragged him with force to the pod.

He couldn't save him. He failed to save him. The last thing he even heard from him was a when he called sven after the luxury pod has escaped.

"We're having a party tonight... Wish you could join us burt." A tear runs down on his face.

He wiped it as he rubs his eyes. "Ugh, c'mon sven, pull it together!" He palmed both of his hands on his face and falls on his bed.

"He's gone! Just.. Try to—– uuggghh!" He sighed to himself. He quickly sits up and try to pull his act together. A forced smile on his face, but it's not that obvious.

Take a deep breath, and let it out as he then go outside to also inform the others about the party. Yeah, let's just focus on that, focus on the clan. Maybe the other could distract him from his mind.

 ---

Charles straight up go to the cafeteria since most toppats usually just hang out there. He saw one of the toppat he usually talk to if sven wasn't around. He called him.

"Harold!" Said charles as he waved his hand at him and the other toppats that's with him.

Ah yes, Handsome Harold. Charles usually hang around him since he's the second person who ever talk to him after he woke up and got amnesia.

"Oh, Charles" Harold rise his hand up as high as his face.

"Sve— uhh, Chief said that we're having a party to celebrate the fully recovered of our clan!"

Harold and the other toppats look at each others as their eyes widened open.

What?? "Really?"

Charles nodded. The other toppats slowly having their face with smiles.

"Alright lads! Let's prepare things up for the party!" One of the toppat called Wallace Dagwood, yelled as the others on the cafeteria then cheered.

A couple of hours has passed, and the party is almost ready. The whole cafeteria was full with a lot of stuff, Charles just can't wait for sven to see this. There's a bunch of food and snacks on the food table, such as pizza, chicken wings, tacos, cupcakes, cake, and other food that usually on a party. There's also a berry punch, and some alcohols on the drink table.

Beside the foods and drinks, there's also a lot of decorations and other stuff that changed on the cafeteria. Like a small stage for anyone who wanted to perform anything. Blue carpet on the whole floor of the room, and disco light-ball. Charles can't really describe everything, but all he could say is that everything is going to be awesome!

Huh?

In a flip, he realized something. He haven't see Sven around to help since he know that Sven likes to help around.

Is he not feeling well?

He did startled for sometimes today whenever he talks… is there anything wrong with him?

Charles can only feel worried about him. But he hopes that non of his thoughts are true.

"Oi Charles!"

Sometimes tapped his shoulder. He jumped a bit and making the "eep" Sound as he surprised.

"Hmm? Oh, it's you" He signed, It was of course Harold.

"What were you thinking? I saw you were excited a view second ago, but then you immediately worried" Said Harold.

"What's wrong?"

"I- huh? No no, you guessed it wrong, why would I be worried when there's a party right in front me?"

How the heck did he know? Can he read face expression that good???

Harold sighed. "Charles, it's all over your face."

Shoot, Right. Knew it.

"O-oh, well, you're right" He smiles. "But I only worried because this will be the first party I'll ever have, since, you know.." He scratched his head.

He lost his memories. He can't even remember everything, how can he remember the last time he even go to one, right?

"Yeah, I know, sorry for that" He wrapped his hand around Charles.

"But they'll all come back! Even if they won't, you can always create new memory!" Harold just trying to cheer 'em up. "Just don't forget to have your medicals, 'kay?"

Charles smile and nodded.

Both of them then go to help t he others finishing some stuff for the party.

---

Sven was outside of the security room, the place where he get to see outside and have the winds in his hair (the place where henry got in the airship when we choose the grapple gun (PBT)).

Just standing there, watching the sun setting down. He looked at the sky.

Thinking to himself. Wishing that all of this was just a really long dream, and when he wakes up, everything was still… Normal. Burt still there, the orbital station was save and sound. And Reginald never got arrested.

He's been there for a hour now, until Charles contacted him. His phone buzzing.

"Hmm?" He picked his phone. It's Charles…

He takes a deep breath, and then answer the call. "Hello"?

"Sven! Where are you? I can't find you in your room, or the cafeteria!" Said Charles in a little worried tone.

"The party is starting in a hour!"

"Oh, really?" He responded as his eyes widened a bit. He didn't thought it'll be starting that fast. "That was fast"

"Yeah, and— wait, Sven! Are you at that place again??" Charles could hear the sound of the winds through sven's phone.

"... Well, yeah?"

"What's wrong?? You only goes there is you're down, you know that you have your greatest friend hereto help you!" Charles raised his voice, but not in an angry way, but more like in a worried and abit of disappointed tone.

Huh? Oh right, he knew.

"No, it's fine Charles! I only looking for some fresh air!"

Hmmm, that sounds convincing alright.

"Okay, but you HAVE to be here when the party started! It'll be the greatest time, truste!"

Sven chuckled on how silly Charles is. "Yeah yeah, I'll be there".

He closed the call as he sighed. He closed his eyes and smile as he shakes his head.

"Charles Charles, guess there's different between you two after all" He chuckled.

Sven then make his way In. He walk through the security room, the hall of portraits, and finally, the kitchen. He stopped there for a bit, looking at the drawer. He then turns around and open up the drawer where he knew a bottle of alcohol would be there. He takes it and looks at it for a while. His face seems like he had no emotions, it's pale, but you could see through his face that he's… tired.

Sven continue walking and bringing the alcohol. He's going to his room.

---

An hour and a half has passed, and there is no sign of Sven yet. Charles keeps on looking around. The party already going since around 30 minutes ago. Charles bit his lips for a bit, worried if there's really something wrong with sven.

He takes a sip of the berry punch as he holding one cup of it.

"Sven, where are you?" He whispered to himself.

A toppat named Carol Cross approach Charles from behind. "Where's sven?" She asked.

"Oh! Miss Carol!" He waved his hand to her, and then immediately scratched his head. "I uh, not sure, I haven't see him anyway around this place".

"Hmm, you should go and find him, don't wanna make him missed tonight."

"Yeah, maybe I should" He put his cup on the table. "Cya around Miss carol, and enjoy the party!". Charles immediately left the cafeteria and try to look for Sven everywhere. It'll took him a while since the airship is really big, he could be anywhere.

After a while, he still couldn't find him, until he walked over to their room.

"Sven? Are you here?" Charles opened the door to their room and look inside.

As he though, he was on their room, sitting on the chair right in front of his small desk beside his bed. But is he drinking by himself??

"Uhh… Sven, are you drunk?" He asked as he approach him. He saw a bottle of alcohol beside him that's almost empty. Sven usually can't handle to much alcohol, a couple of small cup can already made him drunk alright.

He sits next to him. "Are.. you ok? You shouldn't drink by yourself sven".

" O-oh… burt, you're here—"

Burt?? Who is he talking about? He's clearly brunk very badly.

"Uhh, sven, it's me, Charles. You're ready drunk, aren't you?"

He then takes the bottle from sven to prevent him from drinking more. "You should stop now, you don't even recognize me that well" He put the bottle away.

Sven looks at sven, his face really looking like a zombie who just came back to life. He smiled as he saw Charles.

"S-stop joking around—– I know that's you Burt-" He hiccups every now and then.

"Heh, you're so silly Burt… I know it's you.." Sven turned his head back to the cup he's holding.

"You'll always found me whenever I'm like.. This—- I know I've only saw you a couple hours ago…But for some reason… i missed you.. So— much.."

Charles has no clue what he's talking about. But then he somehow remember something. Sven once mentioned he used had a friend from high school maybe? He said they're really close friend. One thing he know that sven missed them too, so, Charles assume he think he's the old friend of sven???

A sob could be heard from sven.

"I…Always wanted to tell you something… b-but— I'm always to coward.."

Charles kinda feels bad for him. He then patted sven's back. "Sven, snap out of it, it's me, Charles, you should get some rest and—–" Before he finish his sentence,he could feel that Sven is about to pass out in any moment. "Woah, sven-"

"I know I know… but B-burt.. Before I Pass out, at least let me tell you h-how I—–"

Without any warning, sven grabbed Charles hand and dragged him really closed to him.

"S-sven!?"

Again, without any warning, sven pulled Charles closer as he kissed him on the lips for like 5 second.

What. The. Heck!?!?!???? Did he just..!?

Sven then immediately fall as he fainted. Charles quickly grab him before he fell to the floor.

Charles's face became RED. He didn't know what the hell just happened. Did his friend just kissed him!? That was unpredictable. He couldn't believe that.

"Wh— what was that…!?"

He never and didn't have that kind of feeling towards Sven, so that's not the reason he blushed. Sven literally just took Charles's first kiss. And that's at least how Charles feel about it. He rubs his mouth as in, he wish that never happened. He didn't want his first kiss to be from his great friend.

But at the same time, he still feel bad for Sven. He once mentioned that he used to have this friend on high school and rhat they've separated from each others for so long, with sven still have this feeling for them. At least that's what Charles assume.

Charles sighed. The blush on his face started to fade away as he calmed down.

"W-well, guess sven will missed tonight's party."

Charles then picks up Sven and lay him down on his bed. He put the blanket on him.

After that Charles tried his best NOT to mention that even happened or even slipped through his mouth as he foes back to the party.

---

The sun is rising, another day has come.

The party was a blast last night, but to bad sven missed all of it.

Sven slowly opens his eyes ashe waking up. Yawning and rubs his eyes before sitting down. He feels a bit dizzy, but can't quite remember what happened last night.

Oh wait, think he did, he remember that he drank by himself on the room until he passed out. At least that's how he remembers it.

As Sven was still sitting on his bed,Charles came in the room while having himself a cup of coffee. He then saw Sven.

"O-oh, morning there sven!" He waved his hand at him, highly hoping he didn't remember what happened last night. He sat down on his own bed.

"Morning Charles, didn't expect you to wake up sooner than me" Said sven as he stretched his arms.

"Oh, yeah, uh, well, you were really tired yesterday, so, that's explain why you over slept?" He takes a sip from his hot coffee.

"Heh, pretty much, I was kinda uh, drunk last night and passed out"

Phew, He didn't remember THAT. Charles relief.

"Yeah-" Charles then change the topic in a second to prevent him from trying to remember that night.

"H-hey sven! You totally missed the party! As I said, it was the greatest!" He said as he smiles brightly.

"Oh really?" He smiled back to him. "Tell me about it then.

Charles then when on telling Sven everything that happened on the party, really detailed. From where Charles went off to inform the others about doing a party, until the party ended and everyone have to clean them up after it.

Days has passed, and Sven haven't remember what has happened that night. So Charles decided to keep it a secret to himself, until now.

===========================

Welp, that's all of the fantic! I hope you enjoyed this, and tha k you so much for putting your time to read this all t he way down here! I really appreciate it!✨✨✨

[vydante]

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 10

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Important A/N at end. Short, but we get to see Rhodey!

Uncle Rhodey visited today.

You don't actually call him that- you're old enough now where, if you started, it definitely would be less endearing and a bit weird, but nowadays it was always either Rhodey or Jimmy. Besides, it's even weirder considering you're technically almost 30, so there's that. Of course, back then though, there were moments when you slipped up, much to your embarrassment and his amusement. 

You'd either be sleep-deprived or distracted most of the time. Mumbling a tired 'Hey Uncle Rhodey' and not noticing the grin on the faces of whoever was in the room with the two of you. It didn't happen often- maybe once every other blue moon- but it happened nonetheless.

But despite being literal years since you've called him that, this was one of those moments where you just couldn't help yourself.

"What's up squirt? Looks like you've seen a ghost."

(Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Fast. Oh God, why was he falling so fast?

"Uh, little," there's a strained grunt, "Little help here? I'm- I'm flying dead stick...!")

"Uncle Rhodey..."

Right in front of you stood Rhodey, who grins at you with underlying concern in his eyes. He looks good, no matter how much shit you always gave him for wearing polo shirts. Definitely less aged, too... Not as tired. There's a pep in his step you forgot he had as he moves in to give you a hug. 

("Rhodes!" Your ears strain as your dad yells into the commlink, though that was nearly drowned out by the drum of your heart thundering in your chest. High in the sky, you take to an instant nose dive and descend.

With each pulse, Rhodey's only falling and falling and falling, and he's not slowing down any time soon. He doesn't respond to your dad. Faint sounds of what may be him losing his breath make you scream out for him too.

You're opposite of Tony as you both try and catch up with the suit. In the corner of your eyes, you see Falcon diving down too. Mother fucker.

You fall and fall, and so does Rhodey. 

The distance between you and Rhodey gets closer and closer, but so does the distance between Rhodey and the ground. It's a race, you bitterly thought in hindsight. You vs. Tony vs. Wilson.

Only Rhodey wins first place.)

You knew it's been years since his fall. But even then, every time you looked at Rhodey, flashes of a falling metal suit lingers in the back of your head. The pounding in your head only gets worse when Rhodey's standing in front of you without leg braces on.

"Aw, guessed someone missed his uncle, huh?"

You know he's just teasing you, but God did you want to tell him how absolutely true he was. 

(You ignore DAHLIA's concerned whisper of 'elevated stress above normal parameters.')

Wordlessly, you hug him maybe a bit tighter than you normally would. You try to find the words to reply back, something snarky ("This 'squirt' can give you the smackdown of your life, Jimmy."), maybe even something honest ("Yeah, I did. I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much."). Just anything would do, but the flashes of a human-sized crater with a red suit hovering over makes you want to hurl, so you just kept your mouth shut and buried your head in his shoulder. You feel him pat your head gently.

(The thud echoes in your ears. 

You're, what? Maybe 70 feet above him?

But yet you heard that thud as if you were dead center of the crater.

Time slows down to forever as you finally touch down and sprint over to your dad, ignoring Wilson's approaching figure.

Tony nods at you ("Rhodes is in critical condition, ambulance ETA 5 minutes...", says DAHLIA), but he says nothing as Wilson mutters an apology. Dad's fuming, and quite frankly, so are you.

You stalked over to him and socked Wilson right in the jaw, gauntlet still on, and took no shame in the satisfaction you felt as you watch him get knocked back a good distance. It's even better when he doesn't get up.

Good. 

As much as Rhodey would admonish you for your train of thought, you'd have no trouble forgiving Wilson if he was the one lying unconscious in the crater instead.)

"Oh yeah, did I not tell you?" You let go of Rhodey but keep in close proximity to him as your dad strides in holding a StarkPad. He greets you with a kiss to the cheek, and you weakly push him away with shaking hands. You pray no one notices your short breath and sweaty palms. He chuckles and stands next to Rhodey, who's already got an exasperated but amused smile as he looks at Tony.

"Rhodey-bear's got military leave- what was it, 2 weeks?"

"3, actually. For a so-called genius, you sure do suck at getting information right."

You stand there, still uncharacteristically silent as you watch them banter. They start walking but you stayed back, watching them strut out of the room as if no one else existed.

You didn't follow them as everything around you blurred; all except for Rhodey's legs. Legs that weren't being supported by a pair of Stark leg prosthetic. Legs that hadn't been completely detached of all feeling and movement from the waist down.

Legs that were still healthy.

You haphazardly leaned against the wall and tried to focus on the floor as the walls wobble around you. The pounding in your head is practically tearing your skull apart.

(The file haunts you.

You gaze at the hologram floating in front of you, and you desperately try to look elsewhere.

There are pictures of potted plants adorning the files. There's a bunch, and none of them really correlate with one another. There's also a series of pictures, remnants of an explosion and ashes of what used to be a pot sprinkled in there too. There are ones of humans- people you don't recognize save for a few. And again, there's also pictures of an explosion, black ashes covering walls with no remains next to them.

Your finger itches to reach out and open the file further, damn near desperate to do anything to rectify what happened to Rhodey. It burns in your soul, knowing that a solution was just this close to you, so damn near close, yet so far away.

You didn't need to open this file if none of this happened. If Rhodey hadn't been paralyzed from the fall. Rage seeps into your fingers as you grip the table painfully, knuckles white.

If only Romanoff wasn't so prone to Roger's baby blues and knew how to keep to aside. If only Rogers had just signed the damn Accords. If only Maximoff could just get it through her thick skull Tony only wanted to keep her safe from the public.

If only Barton just kept his head down and stayed in retirement. If only Wilson didn't dodge, damned what'd have happened to him.

If only...

(If only you had been faster.)

A scream erupts deep within you as you swipe everything off of your table. You slam your fist into the table repeatedly, not noticing the red smearing, the searing pain, or FRIDAY and DAHLIA's concerned voices as your wails drown the world out.

You don't notice how Pepper abruptly shows up to your lab, disheveled in her pajamas and hugging you from behind tight. You don't notice how she managed to bypass your blackout mode and how the glass window panes clear up again. You don't notice the wetness seeping into your back, or the slight shake of her trembling hands.

You don't notice how you stopped screaming and started shaking, sobbing into your mother's shoulder as she whispered nothing short of comforting words in your ears. 

You don't even notice Rhodey's gaze as he arrives, unsteady in his leg braces, looking at you and Pepper with a haunted, condemned expression.)

You jolted out of your thoughts as your dad calls out to you from down the hallway. You try to steady your voice, but with each sharp intake, it's not as easy as said.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, uh- comin'! Coming..."

Ignoring your shaking hands, you jog over to where they are, pushing and repressing those memories back deep into the corners of your mind. That's a whole can of worms you'd be more than happy to ignore indefinitely.

Now that you think about it, it’s kind of cruel being told that your death was necessary to win a war. Out of millions and millions of possibilities, you had to be taken out of the equation for it to work.

Alone in your lab, you lay placid among your beanbag chairs. It's been a few days since Rhodey's come by to visit, a few days since your sudden migraine that was your flashbacks. Nothing much's happened since then. You hung out with Rhodey, saw glimpses of the other Avengers here and there, but other than that... There wasn't anything that was urgent in your schedule.

And that deeply unsettled you.

Things've been moving at too slow of a pace, and quite frankly, you've only got so much time before the clock ticks to zero. And in hindsight, there was a lot that you had to be prepared for.

There was Project Insight, Ultron, the Accords...

And there were the individual people themselves you had to worry about. The twins, T'Challa and T'Chaka- along with Wakanda as a whole-, Peter, Strange, Danvers...

You already feel a dull thumping on your forehead just thinking about it all, and you didn't even mention everyone else.

Slowly getting up from your beanbag chair, you trudged to your main seat and rolled over to your tables. It's a mess; there are papers strewn about, some having to do with starting your senior year in high school, others are of mission reports. There are even stupid little sticky note doodles while you were procrastination once; a testament to how much time you've got, and how much of it was spent wasted.

You pushed all of them out of the way in one sweep, uncaring if any of it fell on the floor. 

"J.A.R.V.I.S., blackout mode."

“Of course, young sir.”

The window panels darken, and J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice quiets. The accent lights in the corners of your lab change from a calming pale blue to a neutral white, an indicator you’ve set up within the past few days. It helps tell you which A.I. is currently in the room. You know that if J.A.R.V.I.S. knew, he wouldn't say anything to anyone else (particularly your dad) about DAHLIA, but just in case.

Eventually, you’ll introduce the two sometime. DAHLIA says she doesn’t care if she meets J.A.R.V.I.S. or not, so you pretend not to notice how much lighter her voice is every time you mention her ‘uncle’ of sorts.

"DAHLIA, you up?”

It was satisfying to watch the neutral white LED lights blink into lime green. It means ‘new beginnings’, or so DAHLIA says. It’s nice in a way- that was the same color you had assigned to her in the future, too. Only this time it was by her own virtue.

”I can't remember a time where I wasn't.”

You rolled your eyes.

The sass.

"You, start up a new project and title it 'Renaissance'. I think now's the time to kick it into high gear."

The holograms around you flicker back to life, a soft green illuminating everything in your sight. A distinct folder pops up with the right title and opens up to a blank file. You’re almost buzzing in your seat as you began creating and titling new documents.

”Sure thing, doll. Anything you want me to start beforehand?"

You pause.

There were lots of things you needed to get done first before you even thought about doing anything else. There were people to recruit, a whole nation you needed to get in contact with, and the drafts of the Accords to be written.

But, for now, you’ll start small.

"Yeah- I, uh, need you to start a global search for someone.”

She hums, and in the corner of your eyes, you see a new file pop up. There’s a rendering of the globe with millions of dots littering the countries visible to you- there are even ones around the planet as well. Cameras and available satellites, you realize.

Atta girl.

”Their name?"

A pair of blank steel blue eyes flash in your mind. Once did anger bubble in your throat when you saw them, but now only pity is what's left in you as you recognize nothing but emptiness behind his eyes. While this was for the greater good that he was found as soon as possible, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't also for the man himself.

The sooner you get to him, the sooner he gets the proper help he deserves.

Reeling yourself back in, you promptly ignored your shaking hands and the flashes of a gleaming arm wrapping itself around your throat, eyes cold and uncaring.

”James Buchanan Barnes.”

A/N: This chapter is the final chapter of the first 'arc', so I've decided. There is a high chance that this story will not be canon complicit from now on. (Also, this chapter is shorter compared to the last chapter, and not as high quality- for that, I'm relatively sorry, but not really.)

Word of warning, we might also get more Team Cap critical (as shown in this chapter), but I promise if that's the case, I'll try not to make it a reoccurring theme in this story. 'Resentment is corrosive, and I (live for it) hate it.' - T.S.

I'm planning on bumping up the speed at which the story is progressing- like, fast. My plan is that the next arc (10 canon chapters, maybe some special chapters) we'll deal with CA:TWS, AOU, and maybe CA:CW all in one go if I go with my current plans for AOU. (That also means each chapter will be significantly longer, too.) 

And as for the romance- I'll also try to include more scenes that aren't as subtle as hell (like the one with Steve and Thor before the last chapter). We'll see what goes on beyond that as we progress. Feel free to leave any suggestions as to how the plot should progress (or even suggestions for the romantic scenes lol). :)

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | Her Lullaby

i said i’d post it today without a time, so here it is! you actually get to meet some of my favorite super-side-characters in this haha–

remember this is a first draft with only minor edits, but enjoy! comments are reception are always appreciated.

-

Oliver was off at school, leaving Ayu to his own wits at the house. Though, the assignment for finishing a section of the textbook deemed itself… ill-tasting for Ayu’s attention. 

He doodled instead, most definitely, cursing his own drawings in the meantime. Thoughts of the events days prior already passed by his mind as almost nothing out of the ordinary. To be fair, however, Eilwen’s tests did pop up from time to time. 

Despite the scenes he drew, those crosses and his own blood seeped an abnormality into himself while tapping his fresher skin. It ticked him. The thoughts of his relations to Akeldama poisoning him beckoned as another one of his mistakes. But I should’ve expected that, shouldn’t I? 

Then there was Eilwen herself: follower in Akeldama’s society being punished by such simple items. The idea of her hands holding still from the burning cross stuck to him, leading him to wonder his own curiosities. Is everyone else the same, he asked. Certainly, they must have had pain tolerances similar to Eilwen’s words. 

But, then again, he always had somebody to ask. 

“Vittorino?” 

“What is it, now,” he asked. His form appeared out by his and Oliver’s bed, sitting with an irked face. 

“You… know Eilwen right?”

He scoffed, “Yeah, I’m taking you to see her later today.”

“I am?”

“It was a last-minute call,” he replied. “But why are you asking about her?” 

Ayu adjusted himself before answering the question. “I just want to know what you know about her.”

The question brought Vittorino to a side-eye of thought, but he shrugged nonetheless. “There’s not much I know about her, or any first eras other than Alice –but everyone knows about her really–. All she really does is hate on Akeldama and stick herself inside her own room, but most of ‘em keep to themselves like us too.”

He fidgeted. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” He then asked, “What, did she do something weird?” 

“I guess she did…” He brought an explanation to the table. “I guess she was wondering about what’s happened to my body after dealing with Akeldama, which that was weird but… She tested me with a cross and her hands looked like they were burning…”

Vittorino’s calm face dropped just the slightest. 

“She said it happens to everyone because of contracts, but she didn’t even bat an eye at it. I figure she’s just strong about it. She seems strong. But I just want to know how it is with other members in the society since– since it burned me immediately yet she took it like a champ.” 

“Wait it burned you?” He nodded. “Huh, I didn’t expect that… I figured Oliver would but–. Anyways, you really wanna know about that stuff, don’t you?” Within a whim, Vittorino brought himself down to Ayu’s sitting level. 

“It’s just been stuck in my mind for a while.”  

“And that’s a bad thing to get stuck behind.” Digging through, he buried his hands into his pocket, viewing downwards whilst doing so. Soon, steam appeared out of the pocket as he paused, only to bring himself at a sigh when he brought it out. 

There laid a wooden cross against his skin, burning up in a red yet he too held no response. “It’s a simple thing: it burns whatever is associated with a demon like Akeldama.”

“He’s a demon?” 

“Probably,” he answered, “We figured once Alice told us some stuff.”

“So, he’s that bad…”

“Well, people take him for granted,” Vittorino commented. “Anyhow, this stuff is painful, yeah, but it’s just that some of us are used to the feeling by now.” 

Ayu asked, “Why?”

“Because…” Vittorino shook his head, storing the cross back in his pocket and standing back up. “Because some of us like holding it sometimes… to think about things.”

“… Vittorino–”

The tallest chuckled to himself, turning back to Ayu with a cheeky smile. “I think I’m one of the only second eras who even do it, but it’s just because it’s funny. Like, we aren’t even allowed to hold it, how idiotic is that? It just shows how ridiculous all that stuff is.”

The lie radiated to Ayu’s discomfort, a good one for sure considering his character, but a detection in lies were somewhat of a tendency. “Vittorino, are you sure this isn’t about…”

He pushed the idea aside, “No, they were all idiotic. That’s why I left the whole place.” His foot tapped impatiently. “Do you want to go to Eilwen’s early or something?” 

Ayu blinked at him, then back at the textbook. “… I mean, if it gets me out of language arts.” 

Opening a door already, Vittorino rolled his eyes. “He really wants you learning all that?” 

He followed him over to the forest entrance. “It’ll be important for when I’m older, and I really need to catch up anyways.” 

“Yeah, like learning phonetics can help you fight stuff or whatever.”

“Ollie said that shouldn’t be my priority anymore–”

“That’s what Oliver said,” he argued, “but not what you decided.”

He ventured himself into the darker woods that steeped itself by its depths of a hillside. The conversation obligated Ayu to follow. 

“I’ve been watching both of you ever since you guys had to be relevant in my life, and all you do is care about and follow others. But what about yourself?” The steps he trudged formed a beat to themselves, as if of a slow march. “Oliver’s was easy to notice since him caring causes him to start dying, and he stopped following people a while ago, but you’re less noticeable. For everyone, you’re less noticeable, since you aren’t dying from it. However, you keep caring and giving yourself away for other people. You’ll kill yourself eventually from just doing that.”  

The speech brought fear to Ayu’s throat, as he gulped at those last words. 

“’Everyone is manipulated by everything, but it’s in everyone’s power to take their own control.’” he glared down at Ayu. “That’s what I’ve been taught, and by now I think you should learn it for once.”

“… You were taught that by Akeldama, weren’t you?” 

He answered, “Obviously. Like I said, he’s taken for granted with some things he says.” 

Ayu had to argue then. “Vittorino, he’s a terrible person.” 

“So, what if he’s a bad person? For me, he made me the great and living person I am today and got rid of so many lost causes from making more chaos.” 

The excused seemed invalid with many counterarguments. “He caused the deaths of a bunch of lives because he felt like it.” 

“And that’s where it is: he does what he feels. He has nothing holding him back and we can’t even imagine all the events he’s had in his life. He doesn’t follow anyone and that’s what makes him great!” 

His excitement over the conversation peaked the slightest with his voice and giddy hands, to Ayu’s dismay. 

“Oliver’s right, you’re a weird fuck.” 

“If those guys are the ones that are free from all those rules,” he chuckled. 

As they walked, Ayu tripped on a root again. “Why are we even walking here? Didn’t you want to drop me off at Eilwen’s?” 

He shrugged. “I just like walking here, and I don’t actually have access to her room. She locked me out of it.”

“I…” Somehow, Ayu yelled in anger, “Vittorino! –”

*** 

Eilwen was found in the wild an hour later conversing with Alice. Though she hesitantly brought him back to the black-box. 

As they sat together in their separate chairs, Ayu questioned her silence. “Why did you bring me here now?” 

At the question, she bit her thin lip, her eyes piercing at him with an unknown feeling. Then sighed, “I asked Alice about your body’s behavior, and why you even have such odd relations with Akeldama… And I’m afraid I’ve now been tasked to prepare you for that answer yourself.”

Ayu blinked. “What do you mean?” 

“I cannot explain any details. I’m sorry. However, you are not here for that; you’re here to learn of other matters.” Standing up, she grabbed her candle to light up others from behind her back, illuminating a distinct chart connected to her watch by a string. “That being the current members of the society today.” 

Admittedly, Ayu groaned in the inside. “Can’t you take me on flashbacks again for this?” 

She shook her head. “No, that’s rather unnecessary. I’ll only be explaining each briefly.” A face mirroring a sigh planted on herself. “Then you’ll meet some yourself.”

The last section peaked his interest at an instant, as his eyes beamed at attention once said. “You mean I have to meet them?” 

“As annoying as it is yes. However, considering your importance, they won’t harm you now especially after the Margaret incident.”  She shook her head, adjusting her hat while setting up her watch. “Now then, let’s begin with the second eras.” 

*

After many psychopaths and silly characters in such a presentation, the watch clicked onto the final member. In his seat, Ayu sat intrigued but rather tired, with his arm barely lifting his head up. All the faces he only met on the board deemed themselves a weighing amount to handle by sight from their demeanors and smiles or frowns. 

At least some members seemed human. 

“Finally, we have the accursed, Bluebell.”

Ayu tilted his head. “Accursed?”

The picture brightened up with a woman in the forefront. Her body still like a portrait, she hung against a wreath of giant flowers delicately with her gown and hair flowing. Her hair welcomed itself like long roots of strawberry blonde that breezed down up until her waist. The gown glowed in a gentle white, small patterns of flowers speckled across its edges and rims, and sleeves cuffed under her wrists leaving an airy puff to her arms. But within it all, crowned with flowers colored vibrant and beautiful upon her freckled skin, she smiled, wide and calm. 

The beauty and serene nature of her image calmed Ayu as that of a young, mystical mother. However, previous members already brought him to a distrust. Plus, ‘accursed’ was finally explainable with her appearance. 

“Don’t trust her.” Eilwen explained, “While Bluebell is objectively the most gorgeous of the first eras, she is most definitely the least liked.”

“And why her specifically?”

“She’s just a sinister addle pate,” she grumbled. “She has not talked much of her origins but she either lied to many or she held multiple jobs as a caretaker, nursemaid, and florist whilst as a young mother. The happenings to what happened to her child are unknown, though she joined Akeldama without them.”

The image, in Ayu’s mind, continued to stare down into his soul somehow. While doing so, Eilwen explained her abilities and methods of extermination.

The concepts blended with Ayu rather poorly along with all the other new faces. “I get she hunts down kids but aren’t I safe?”

She replied, “It’s difficult to consider… and to explain. She likes to fool around with everybody in general. Although, I’m not sure if you’d even be affected by her.”

Through some thinking, Ayu shrugged. “I’ll be fine; Oliver’s singing is probably better anyways.”

Eilwen’s expression downed itself, proceeding to blow out the candles near the board and summoning a door. “I’m sure you will.” The door opened up her hands, which signaled Ayu to jumped out of his chair. “Follow me, please.”

And so, he stepped on out along her side, yet through the door was not the average forest of Fowls. Glass-ridden, a topless hallway was formed, large and wide in its endless interior. On each side of its walls placed multiple doors all of which caked against each other in their designs, along with small silver plaques beside them all. 

“Woah…” Ayu breathed out into a smile. “This is cool!” 

“This is where you have access to the houses and fields of every member in history.” The coat that blanketed her shuffled whilst she returned back to the door behind them. “Many will be empty, I warn you. And I won’t be accompanying you due to all their annoyances.”

As the door closed, he asked her. “Wait- Wait! How am I supposed to get back here? Or back to you?” 

“Elementary, now that you’re here, just think of this hall and the door will appear. Don’t hassle over it.” Then the door finally faced him flat, its carvings of bells and old clocks mocking him. 

The situation brought Ayu to a grumble, not so much any fear in his bones more so irritation of mentors. Perhaps the day was a bad mood, we will never know. Though after a huff and sigh, Ayu trudged forward to the first door in sight.

The new entrance glossed itself in comparison to all the other wood-like structures, shining along carvings of fancy men. 

One of Ayu’s eyes lifted up at the design, its properness making itself more of an oddity. And already his guesses as to who it was appeared in his mind. He took a breath, motivating himself to enter in, and with his sight closed, he opened the door. 

Barging in, Ayu stopped himself before his speed kicked in. Opening his blind view, he was met with velvets and greens, as well as stairs to his questioning. Stepping over, he greeted himself to what seemed to be a rich brat’s lair. 

Yep, it’s him. 

At the edge of the floor, a table sat furnished in cards and coins, as well two party members sitting on each side. 

“… I draw three.”

“What do you mean you draw three? I had just went all in.” 

“Well, you always cheat so you’ll be disqualified in two seconds once King comes back.” 

“But don’t we always cheat?” 

“Yeah, but the two of us can’t manipulate the card order.” 

“Then that’s just too bad to be you.” 

The two conversed at the singular turn. Their bickering brought Ayu to a slight familiarity. Soon, he spoke out, “You’re… Eden and Cosmina, right?” 

They turned at him instantly, the girl holding a card by her two fingers without hesitation. The appearances began to clear up for Ayu, however their clothing and accessories contradicted that of past sights. The man, Eden, seemed to have lengthy brunette hair tied to the back, edges still rolling off from the knot and blocking up some of his face, though a piercing still appeared by the edge of his lip. His top comfortably laying against his torso and thighs as a well-knit turtleneck, yet the sleeves ripped themselves off. Then Cosmina’s hair changed to that of a slim cut down to her chin, with her uniform only consisting of a tank-top, shorts, and thin coat. 

Eden questioned, “Are you the kid Alice mentioned earlier?” 

“I thought he’d look more off-putting,” Cosmina commented. “Not that I’ll complain. Were you expecting King?” 

Hesitantly, Ayu nodded. 

She stared down into his soul. “Timid, I see. Well, there’s not much to be weary of here. We won’t bite, if that’s what you’re thinking. And King’ll be here soon, he’s only getting essentials.” 

Ayu’s words stumbled within themselves, ultimately bring nothing of a reply. 

“You’re calling booze an essential?” 

“What else are we supposed to do waiting here? Might as well get a little tipsy.”

“I…”

“Jesus fucking Christ you couldn’t believe the number of parents at the liquor store today!” The door behind them all slammed closed. Ayu and the others whipped their heads to find the last member of the party. His figure lean and confidant with his boxes hung around his arms; his tailcoat flowed as he paced up the stairs. In Ayu’s eyes, the man’s eyepatch glistened in its dark cloth, his short haircut to match. “Oh, it’s the kid.” 

“It’s Ayu…”

“King, perfect timing, he just got here.” Cosmina walked on over to the new figure. They greeted each other by King’s kiss on her cheek whilst he placed the boxes down for her to grab. He kissed down Eden’s cheek as well, to Ayu’s slight confusion. “He’s a little shy, so we’ll save the drinks for later in case you two do something stupid.” 

“Oh, who are you kidding? We all go stupid with bourbon,” King laughed as he tidied the small mess on Eden’s shirt. 

Ayu scurried in his spot. “You’re King?”

“In the flesh, hopefully.” 

The answer forced Ayu to gesture at the whole room. “Aren’t you supposed to be the fancy one?” 

He muttered, “Damn, I really do wanna drink. Mina, get the OJ.” 

“On it.” 

“Anyways,” the focus laid back on Ayu. “I suppose that’s how I’m seen in the society.” 

“Yeah,” Ayu eventually brought himself to a seat. “You’re the fancy-ass ruler with the throne…” he then pointed at the other two. “And you guys were the servants?” 

Eden cackled. “Oh god, that takes me back.” 

The king chuckled a little with him. “Yeah, I guess that’s how it was.” 

“You all had old fancy clothes and stuff… what happened?” 

“That shit was hot, that’s what,” Eden answered. 

The girl returned with cups of orange juice by a hand and placed it on the table for the others to grab. “There were too many layers back then, I’ll admit.” 

“Thank you very much,” King snatched a cup. However, he offered to Ayu, “You want some? It isn’t spiked,” as he eyed the alcohol in the corner. 

That in itself raised Ayu’s hands against it. “I prefer apple juice…” 

“Huh, we haven’t had apple juice in a while. I’ll get that later.” 

Ayu still grabbed the cup from him, taking a sip to a surprise of the nice taste. And no pulp. “– Still why’re you guys like this now?”

King handed himself his own cup while answering. “Well, I will admit that back then, we did act like snobs.”

“It was you who was the snob,” Cosmina retorted. 

“And it was you all who went along with it,” he added. “But what am I joking, almost everyone in the first era has some kind of act going on, especially if we’re talking about back then.” 

Ayu questioned with his cup, “What are you talking about?” 

“Everyone here exaggerated themselves back then, whether it be by fashion or action. We were just the types who did both,” King explained. “And while we did like the roleplay and the clothes, being immortal for four hundred years made that a little boring.” 

“Oh yeah,” the idea of immortality seemed so normal for Ayu by then. “How is even being immortal.” 

“Oh, my god, it’s terrible!” Eden raised an arm. 

Cosmina said, “Remember you’re supposed to live a life for less than one hundred years and imagine doing the same thing four times.” 

“What she said,” King sipped. “We followed the trend of the society for a while which was ‘stay in your rooms to do whatever bullshit for eternity’. But we realized that, in itself, was bullshit.”

The swearing still threw Ayu off. 

“Usually people would off themselves after being tired of immortality, but we knew that was a stupid idea considering our society deals. So, instead of killing ourselves or moping like the rest of the ‘woe is me’ first eras–”

“And the even more ridiculous seconds.”

“– them too,” King continued. “We just decided to go and have a life outside of killing.” 

“By… drinking and living off of orange juice?” 

Eden drank his own cup of orange juice when he spoke, “Nah, the bourbon’s only for when we’re stuck here.” 

“… You’re gonna throw that out later, right?” 

“No, why would we,” Cosmina asked. 

And Ayu replied, “Because my dad always told me and my sister to throw that stuff out for Mom so…” 

“Psh,” Eden chuckled, “Then that’s just a bad parent.”

“They were pretty nice,” he defended. 

“I’m sure your parents managed to fix that up, or at least will do soon,” King pushed aside to Ayu’s own bitterness. “But, no we aren’t alcoholics. We go travel and find whatever’s fun in the new world.” 

“What?”

“We visit all different kinds of places in the world and do whatever festival or party’s going on there. Because, why stick here for a hundred more years when you can do whatever you want?”

“Whatever’s fun or whatever sounds funny enough,” Eden added, pointing at his own piercing with brows together. 

“It looks lovely on you, dear.” 

The compliments gave Ayu another topic to look upon. “… And all you three are?” 

“A couple.” Cosmina stayed in the background during all of the answers. “Is there anything of it?”

“No, not really,” Ayu looked down at his cup. “I just, don’t know anything about that stuff and I’ve never seen three people before so I was wondering why.”

“Fuck monogamy, that’s why,” King replied. 

“I drink to that.” With the raise of a cup, Eden drank more of the juice. 

“…?”

“We do as we feel, and we all like each other’s company. That’s all the necessary explaining,” yet even Cosmina casually sipped the orange juice. “You’re only a child but once you really understand, good for you.”

“Wait… do people like each other just because they like their company?” 

King interjected, “Well, there’s more to it but…– hold on we aren’t here to give romance advice!” 

“I wasn’t asking for any! I was just curious!” 

“What, are you having a school crush or something,” Eden raised a brow at him. 

“What?” Ayu scoffed at the idea, blushing in the midst, “No!”

“Alright then. That’s that.” He finally set his empty cup down after playing with it. “Are you going to ask us anything else or are you done with your orange juice?”

“I…” He set down the cup. “I think I’m done.” 

***

The other doors Ayu entered were abandoned by their owners long ago, as Eilwen told. Some brought worn down activities for Ayu to venture into, though others laid barren. Those barren lands packed themselves up, from the owner ready to leave as he learned. The ghosted lands still hung around with bright colors, but the dim atmosphere brought him to leave early to every single one. 

King’s trio seemed like the biggest treat of the day, alongside their flavorful beverage, but he tried to ignore that. Their modernist attitudes stuck to him, as well as their farewells to his visit. 

“If you end up joining us, come over here because everyone else sucks!”

Not the kindest gesture, he admitted, but the message still stood. He questioned the message, Am I joining the society soon? Is that what Eilwen’s worried about? 

The idea pleased itself easily, considering his associates and history. Besides, with everybody’s growing concerns to his own apparent growing importance, the aspect of him joining them seemed of a satisfying end to finish his mess, in some way of the matter. Perhaps he would receive more power than he could ever imagine or be granted his wish to undo everything in his life. That concept pleased himself the most. 

However, the price still stood ahead of him. That price of taking another’s life for his own lingered in the concept. And to that, he availed from the chances quickly enough, his heart too strong to break by himself.

There ahead of him, was yet another door to enter. This time, the wooden décor carved itself into flowers and leaves growing into one another in intricate detail. The petals fell and the stems kissed the grass carved below. In such detail in design, Ayu gulped knowing who it may be. And yet again, he brought his arm to open up the door. 

Stepping into new grounds, the soles of his old sneakers brushed up against long grass. It tickled his knees as his first views of the land were made. Despite the nature field, her land posed itself as disproportional. Flowers grew wild and of various shapes and sizes which many were larger than likely possible of a normal plant. They all swayed rhythmically to nothing, dancing to their own hearts content at the silence, but also the humming of another person in the garden. 

He faced doubt in the eye, and ventured more inside, ignoring his own inner-warnings. Quickly after drowning of the leaves in front of his path, he discovered the source of the hummer. Her long, angelical hair swayed down like a river, covering her face alongside her crown of wild flowers. She mumbled a tune as she watered a bustle of flowers, but the identity was clear nonetheless. 

Bluebell, his eyes darted down the nearest bush and hid in its rustling leaves. Even with his mouth of courage to Eilwen, her own words left a mark of warning once seeing her in person. He managed to not flinch, to itch a muscle, or to form a single peep of gripe. After moments in time, and some flashing of black and white, Ayu sighed. Soon, he rung his arms to start crawling away and making it out of the door–

“And who might you be?” As soon as he stepped towards the outside, the lady grabbed him by the hood. She yanked him back to his startled fear. 

“Fuck–” He pulled the hood in front to resist choking, and struggled with his own feet to muster up. “Let me go!” 

With his light weight, she lifted him up with ease, her copper eyes squinting at his appearance. Yet eventually, she smiled. “No, no, come with me,” she pulled him, “You look tired; you can sleep here if you need rest.”

“Let me out,” he yelled, but to no avail. 

“Oh, don’t be fussy, Ayu,” she giggled, “This will make Akeldama fuming. Just listen to me.” 

While the pleasure of Akeldama’s misfortune would have convinced Ayu another day, the risk of her ability still lied as a great possibility for him. “No– Stop! –” However, he was too late to make a hit. 

“My dear, in sickness, sadness, and red, can sleep from a song with sigh…”

Her voice echoed and rang into his ears, slowly softening every inch of this tension and mind merely from those lines.

“Your life, your soul, your ending night will rejoice with us in light.”

The lullaby wrapped him around, stopping his struggles and whines and instead relaxing and numbing the pain. 

“Despite these somber eyes, I can see, there is time to close them away…” 

Such a clear, siren-like voice called to him. It chilled the bones that wanted end so recently and brought along a warmth that coddled him endlessly. Soothing him, his own eyes began to calm into a slumber. 

“In hope, my love, without life in sight, your days will say–”

“BLUEBELL!” Alice screamed at her, interrupting her beautiful song. From the erupt end, Ayu snapped back awake with the lingering melody as he turned to the distressed woman ahead of them. She ran and snatched him away from the siren, to his dismay. 

“Oh, Alice, you ruined his fun,” she said. 

The head of the society glared at her. “You impudent–” yet she turned back to the young boy with closing lids, “Are you alright?” 

Ayu remained silent, processing the event that just unfolded. 

Another slowly walked into the scene, somehow shying away with her scarf. 

“Eilwen, I told you to keep watch on him,” she stomped towards the mentor. 

“I–” she stammered. “I thought he would be alright considering he’s of–”

“He hasn’t developed at all yet! He’s only a mere child at this stage!” Alice shrieked in her stop. “God, didn’t you think of how Akeldama could be upset by this? – Ugh, that’s beyond the point now. At least I managed to catch him before Akeldama arrived… How are you feeling Z– Ayu?” 

The argument rather unsettled Ayu’s mood. The lullaby from before seemed as something to return to once more already… In all honesty, the song was not as horrifying as he imagined. “… I’m doing fine.”

“Be honest.” 

More so, it lifted him up the slightest. “No, I really mean it,” he told her. “Kind of, uh, refreshed actually.” He forced a smile upon the odd feeling. That sense of wanting more began to kick in. 

Alice nipped her lip and turned to Eilwen. “Do you believe it’d be alright to bring him back home? It doesn’t seem all that bad…” The head turned again to the wonderful lady. “We’ll only need to console you later,” she spat at her, who only continued to water her plants once more. 

She scoffed, “You never tell us anything, Alice. How would I know of the consequences?” 

“Well, your fun may have caused you your own death grave.” 

Instead of anything else, Bluebell shrugged with a giggle, “Do you really think that matters anymore, Cecily?”

Alice huffed, patting Ayu towards the exit. “Let’s go; you need the rest.” 

***

The apartment entrance shut as Alice led the way. Ayu scurried behind her, unsure of her silent aggression. 

Oliver sat by the couch, legs crisscrossed and Ayu’s textbook on his lap. He poked a pencil by his hand, jotting down on whatever pages Ayu bothered to commit to the day prior. Corrections most likely covered the pages considering previous marks on his answers. 

He turned around at them, his pale eyes peering at Alice. “Oh, hi… Alice, why are you here?” 

Originally, Ayu would have pondered as to why Oliver never asked why he was gone; however, that failed to bring him down that day. Alice instead pushed him gently more towards the inside as she explained. “Ayu simply ran into a… mishap, while in Eilwen’s care. But don’t worry, she and I will take care of it.” 

He dropped the book down onto the couch, standing up. “Alice, what happened?” 

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. The most Ayu will experience is some improper thinking and a state of intemperance.”

“But I can’t ask why?” 

“No,” she stated, her voice reaching a new low. “You aren’t to be involved with anymore things that can harm you.”

“So, he’s been hurt.” Oliver’s brows furrowed together at Alice, as he walked down to Ayu’s side. “Are you okay?” 

He told him, “Yeah… I’m great, Ollie.” A smiled crept up the slightest in his dazed fate. 

His face raised into that of confusion. Only for him to sigh, “Just go, Alice. You aren’t going to help me with this.”

She nodded in silence, and exited through the doorway and magic. 

In the unknown, Oliver hummed and stared up until he faced Ayu again. “Okay, Ayu, what happened?” 

Unsure of how to reply, the serious tone gawking him, he only answered back, “Nothing really… But, something really nice happened if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“… What?” 

He figured Oliver would like his story. “I met this lady, who sang a nice song and I got to hear it… Too bad Alice stopped it though. Oliver, you should have heard it, she sounded amazing.” His mind bubbled at the thoughts of it. “I think I’ll go try and visit her again. You should come with me.” 

“Oh.” His face softened the slightest. “Okay…?”

In the comforts of his thoughts, Ayu held up Oliver’s hand and gripped it in his smile. “Trust me, the song makes you forget about everything.” 

At those very words, Oliver’s mouth sided downwards. “Sure,” his words slurred as he reached back in a smile. 

Ayu let go of the hand, bringing himself to an arm stretch. “Well anyways, I’m gonna take a nap.” Drifting off, he told his final words to Oliver, “I’ll talk more about it later.”

In the room, instead of sleeping, Ayu actually giggled at himself and his own formulating thoughts. Not even sure himself as of why, he laid there, smiling and basking himself in the growing euphoria inside of him. However, his sense remained ever so prevalent, and his ways of listening peered from outside the room. 

“You have a clue, don’t you, Vittorino?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ve only heard of Bluebell, but I know kids are her main targets… He must’ve been affected by her ability.”

“… What does she do?” 

He quickly jabbered, “It’s a more subdued but strong version of my ability. She sings people to sleep to kill them. But if she doesn’t finish her song…”

“Ah,” Oliver said once connecting the dots. “And it’s going to get worse, I assume?” 

“Most likely.”

He sighed from the outside. “Goddamn it…”

But Ayu listened to it all, and all he could reply from it was to shrug. Oh well. 

-

Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother | A Demon | A Child | The Wolf | Bloody Fingers | A Monochrome World | The Pocketwatch | I’ll Have My Day | Two Weeks | Monsters | Sleepover | First Meal | Dearest 

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Having a whale of a great time!

Scuba diving in the Crystal Blue Lagoon? Check. Collecting pearl oysters and whatever else lies at Sea Glass Shores. Check.  Crafting a bunch of cool floaties and braving the Shimmering Whirlpool? Check and check. Riding whales towards the sunset? Check!

Vacationing at the Sparkle Islands has been exactly what I needed! It's nice meeting up with Lenie again as well as Nico and Dewey. The Fairweathers have been taking a break from recording and performing so they've been focusing on adventuring and solo endeavors.

I can't believe that Lenie's a college senior now - where did the time go? Jimmy's busy with family stuff so that's why he's not with us. It feels like forever since I last saw him - but that's what video chats are for! Also, his kids are adorable and I'm glad to finally meet them as well as his husband. Nico's been globe trotting as usual, full of fun and exciting stories to tell us. Dewey's been taking it easy, trying to create a better work-life balance after taking on too much last year.

So far their break has been going really well. With everything going on in their personal lives, they could really take some time off. Artist's block sucks but sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it other than wait it out and focus on other things. Creativity can be finicky, especially when you've got other things on your mind like responsibilities, burnout, or a busy schedule.

I've been in a bit of a creative slump as well. From running events at the camp to personal life stuff getting in the way, I've been feeling off this past week. Like I can't relax because I have a million things running in my mind. If I'm expecting a call or email I find myself unable to focus on anything else because I'm too busy mentally preparing for having to do something that makes me nervous and often drained at the end.

Fortunately, I managed to get pretty much all the boring and stressful adulting stuff out of the way. But after spending most of last week being on edge, it's hard to fall back into my normal rhythm. I've been kinda on autopilot, just trying to get through the day. Up until a couple days ago I've been feeling pretty meh most of the time.

Usually, to de-stress, I turn to art. Doodling, journaling, knitting - whatever creative medium I'm in the mood for. But when you're in an art block, it causes more stress. As someone who's been journaling for years, there will be times when you've hardly touched your notebook in days, weeks, and even months. I have to say, though, since running the camp I've been journaling in a somewhat regular basis - especially when I started incorporating art journaling into it - but I still have times when I'm just not feeling it.

Sometimes getting your feelings out on paper doesn't help, especially when you don't have the words to explain exactly how you feel without it sounding forced or an incomprehensible mess of words. There are times when I want to write about something but the words just don't come out right, so I end up scrapping the whole thing. And of course, there are times when I want to write about something that's been on my mind, only to end up rambling about something else and going off on that tangent.

Then there are times when your mind is so fogged up that you come up completely empty. Up until today, I've been head full of fog, thoughts completely empty. Still kinda feels like that, to be completely honest, but the fog's slowly clearing up. I think the whale ride really helped with that.

As someone who believes a change of scenery and a good distraction helps when life takes a lot of out you, I find that I have a hard time following my own advice. I'm all about taking time to forget your troubles and worries for a bit, but yet I'm having difficulty doing so. I don't know why, but I always find it difficult to completely let loose - like I let myself have fun but at the same time my worries are always there in the back of my mind. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself to have fun, but not too much fun. As much as I want to let go, there's a part of me that holds on, making me afraid to let myself fall freely.

What's the point in telling people to escape their troubles for a bit when I can't even do that without feeling like I'm doing something wrong? It's not that I don't know how to have fun - though it's taken a lot longer for me to catch on than most people - but sometimes it feels forced. I don't know, it's always something I've struggled with - at least compared to most of my peers growing up. Maybe part of it comes from being a convenient person - one who doesn't ask for much, someone who doesn't go out of their way to bring attention to themselves - the kind of person who tags along and is just there.

It's kinda like I don't know exactly how to have fun. Sort of like I'm second guessing myself by wondering, "Is this what having fun feels like? Am I doing it right? Is this enough?" and of course, that totally defeats the purpose of escaping and letting go.

I have to say, being at the camp as helped a lot in terms of teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy the good times to the fullest. It's still a bit of a new concept for me, but at least I'm coming out of my shell - and that's what counts. Maybe I'll never be as carefree as some people - I've been told that I'm kinda low-key and serious by nature - and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I wish that I could be a bit more vocal and expressive and active, but most of the time I'm happy with being an observer and doing my own thing in the background.

It was Chai and Rhonda's idea to visit the Sparkle Islands. It was on the list for a while but for the past year the islands were undergoing a lot of reconstruction so a lot of places were closed. Leyla, who's one of the princesses of the islands, was behind a lot of the restoration and repair of various sites.

Turns out that I just missed her when we visited Maron Heights to watch our friends perform in After Hours at the Opera. Because she was so busy getting the islands back in shape, she dropped by to see the show the night before we came and went back home the next morning.

Like with Kat, Hawk, AJ, and Elara, Leyla's been going through a bunch of changes as well now that things are settling down. Aside from rebuilding the islands, Leyla's getting reacquainted with her mom Archer, who disappeared about twenty years ago in a disaster that left part of the main island in shambles for years. Having her back is still a huge adjustment for Leyla and her momma Rosie as she missed out on a lot. Leyla and Kat are pretty much on the same page when it comes to reuniting with a parent who was presumed dead for most of their lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, things are going well.

As for Leyla, a heated reunion between her moms led to an unexpected surprise - three actually. In about five months their little family of three will double in size. While her moms are terrified, Leyla's at the point where she's fully looking forward to having three new siblings. Sure, it'll be tough as her moms are out of practice with taking care of a baby (or babies). The way Leyla sees it, the 20 + age difference is more of an advantage because she can easily help take care of the babies as her moms will definitely be overwhelmed.

So along with overseeing the islands, Leyla's been helping Rosie take care of Archer, who's on strict bedrest. Archer's doing okay for the most part but the pregnancy has taken a toll on her, especially since there's a high potential for complications. Now with reconstruction almost done - about 98% according to Leyla - she has been spending a lot of time with her moms.

It was by chance that we ran into Lenie and her brothers as well as Leyla and her moms. Leyla's been dropping by to check in on us but it wasn't until today she joined us on a fun filled day of crafting floaties and riding whales. Rosie insisted that Leyla take a well deserved break and invited us for dinner when we got back.

Crafting floaties was a lot of fun and so was diving in the Shimmering Whirlpool. It does take some getting used to though, and one should be a somewhat experienced swimmer as the currents can get quite unpredictable. A bit too rough for my liking at times - not a fan of being spun around quickly because motion sickness, ugh - but overall it was an interesting experience. Definitely more into crafting floaties though.

Maybe I would be more of a thrill seeker if I didn't get so dizzy easily. I can't even look at something spinning for more than half a minute without feeling a headache coming on.

Late afternoon and evening were much more chill, thankfully. Bubble tea, sandwiches, and ice cream at the beach. Building sandcastles and breaking open coconuts. Lying on a beach towel under an umbrella and watching the waves. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago this place was left in ruins.

The biggest highlight was the whale ride. Leyla set us up with some of her friends, who were more than happy to let us hop on and show us the ocean. And I have to say, it was an amazing experience!

For a moment, I was able to let go completely. No worries, no doubts, no second guessing myself. Just bliss and exhilaration. A rare moment in which I get to be in the moment instead of being aware that I'm living a memory that I'll be looking back on fondly someday. It's strange, to lose yourself like that and not feel... weird? Guilty? Disconnected? Like you're not enjoying it enough because a part of your mind is elsewhere.

Riding a whale towards a sunset - what a way to spend an evening! I guess my takeaway from this mind blowing experience is that I need to learn that a part of having fun is letting happiness come to you instead of forcing it or telling yourself that you should be enjoying this. I need to keep that in mind.

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 7 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 3,964

Logan cracks his knuckles, his elbows propped on the arms of a chair near the middle of the presentation room. Across the table from him, Joy doodles absently in the margins of her notebook. Logan is pretty sure that if Cassidy weren’t there to subtly turn the page for her, the flowers and floating eyes would crawl off the pages and etch themselves into the surface of the table. Director Gazebo paces at the head of the room, smacking a remote against his palm and muttering under his breath. It’s been something like five minutes since he last successfully switched slides, and all delusions of focus and interest have completely melted away. Even Miss Katie-Lee, who was helping hand out papers and fill in pieces of information for the director, is playing something on her phone with vague disinterest. Logan wonders whether she might just fall asleep right where she stands.

Logan, on the other hand, absolutely cannot force himself to look disinterested in anything the director does, ever. Not with that meeting from a couple weeks ago still weighing on his mind. Instead, he does his best to look like he’s taking detailed notes in his pocket notebook, glancing around the room as if deep in thought. He takes careful stock every few seconds of the impossibly high number of important people in here. The absolutely quintessential ‘who’s who’ of this branch—Joy and Miss Katie-Lee, of course, but also Mx. Oatmeal, Cassidy and her independent focus advisor, the directors of the individual satellite branches floating nearby, those inexplicable people in nice suits that follow Director Gazebo everywhere, even the notoriously good-looking folks that are always sweeping in and out of Miss Katie-Lee’s office. Oh, and who could forget Roman?

Logan could.

Logan would love to do that, in fact.

He’s taken multiple steps to prove to the director just how much he wants this, despite how wrong it feels to be slacking off to improve—talking about non-work things with Cassidy and Alex, getting to know the fifth floor interns (even though they aren’t technically on the fifth floor anymore), helping those same interns with their work and genuinely enjoying it rather than it being revision out of obligation, even trying to be more open with Virgil about what’s going on inside his head. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of that last one yet, but it’s not like the director ever sees him do it—or not do it, as the case usually tends to be. He tries, though. They both do.

The biggest risk—talking to Roman—is one he really isn’t looking forward to. He hasn’t even tried yet, actually. Probably explains why Roman is in the far back corner of the room, whispering with Alex.

Logan isn’t doing very well at pretending to be taking notes, in case that wasn’t obvious.

Finally, the remote in the director’s hand buzzes to life, shuffling the presentation to the last slide. Miss Katie-Lee moves next to him and peers over his shoulder, pointing at one of the buttons and nodding. A sigh of relief (or maybe it’s annoyance—Logan isn’t great at gauging that sort of thing) ripples through the room when the slideshow cycles back to the top, displaying a picture of a rocket preparing to launch.

The director gives Miss Katie-Lee a smile and nod before turning to address the room. “What craft was this?”

Logan doesn’t bother raising his hand, merely calling out the name in unison with the rest of the room. “Vanguard TV3.”

“And on what historic date did this craft fail two seconds after launch?”

“December sixth, nineteen fifty-seven.” It’s more of an automatic response on Logan’s part than a concentrated effort to access the trivia from its overflowing file tucked away in a secure corner of his mind. The director nods his approval and moves on to the next slide, and Logan is pretty sure the better part of his room-sweeping gaze centers on him. He sits up straighter.

“Good start, folks. Now, back to basics—roughly how long would it take for a spacecraft to reach the moon?” Wow, really back to basics. He wasn’t kidding.

“Three days.” Even Logan has to admit, it does sound just the slightest bit creepy, everyone answering in monotonous unison like this.

The director clicks over to the next slide, which proudly declares the words ‘speed round’ in times new roman. The font yanks Logan’s thoughts toward Roman without his consent, and he again thinks about how unjustly cold he’s been to the guy lately. Hardly a word between them, aside from the usual obligatory greetings. Maybe that ought to be his next risk, resolving that whole situation. Certainly one of the more unnerving ideas he’s entertained.

“Alright, everyone, speed round time. How many miles to the moon?”

“240,000.”

“In kilometers?”

The briefest of pauses. “386,400.”

“Largest crew aboard a spacecraft to date?”

“Eight.”

“Why do we want to minimize travel time for human astronauts?”

“Space has harmful radiation.” Okay, so that one wasn’t quite so perfectly in unison, and various other answers tried to break through, but the general idea does manage to echo around the room.

“Of the nearly two hundred planet-orbiting moons in our solar system, in which place is our moon with regards to size?”

“Fifth largest.”

“Latin word for its highlands?”

“Maria.”

“Meaning?”

“Seas.”

“How many nations have landed on the moon?”

“Three.” The word five also bounces around, but Logan is in the former party.

“Okay, who did it first?”

“The United States.” This, too, has a second answer making a valiant effort—Neil Armstrong, obviously. Again, Logan is in the former group.

“When?”

This one, interestingly enough, prompts two very distinct answers. One sizeable group, to which Logan is party, gives the predictable answer of July twentieth, nineteen sixty-nine, but one (much smaller) group says something incredibly different.

“Wow, I didn’t realize this very important meeting was just gonna be a history lesson.”

Not a valid nor correct answer, in case that wasn’t clear.

Logan, along with pretty much every other superior in the room, swivels in his seat to stare at Roman, who still leans against the wall at the far back of the room. Beside him, Alex looks like they’re doing everything they can to feign not having heard him.

Roman shrugs and raises his eyebrows, tilting his head toward the director. “It’s a valid question. Nobody in this room’s an idiot, we all passed our college courses, gen eds and otherwise, we all took the entrance exams, we’ve all done the work to get here. Not to step out of line or anything, but this is all grade school stuff. Seems kinda dumb to be quizzing us on stuff anyone with a working internet connection could figure out.”

Logan debates whether this would be a good time to work on one of those risks he’s been dealing with by striding to the back of the room and smacking Roman across the face. The director stiffens, but Logan can’t tell whether it’s agitation or impressed satisfaction.

“Does anyone else agree with Roman’s perspective?”

There’s a few quiet mumbles and the odd cough or sniffle, but no one speaks up. Logan flinches when the director’s eyes land on him, but again, there’s something behind those eyes he can’t trace. When the director doesn’t look away, the idea of screaming crosses Logan’s mind. Risk. Risk. You are not special simply for doing your job. You need to go above and beyond if you want to achieve the dream you claim you have, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.

Logan clears his throat and raises his hand, and honest to god, the room falls silent. Even Joy’s scribbling pen halts. The director nods at him to speak, at the same moment that Logan finds his heart standing at the edge of a bottomless pit. It jumps over.

“He makes a good point.” The director lifts his chin, but says nothing. “We already know all of this information, given how easily we can answer it on a dime, and you’ve gathered up most of the higher profile people in this branch, not to mention the ones around it. It seems counterintuitive to waste their time with the basics when they could be working toward something more concrete, rather than an eighth grade science test review.” Logan literally bites his tongue when he closes his mouth, belatedly realizing he just told the literal head of his career that his meeting is a waste of Logan’s time. Too big of a risk, perhaps, but there’s certainly no taking it back now. He also belatedly realizes his arm is still in the air, so he yanks it down with his other hand.

There’s a beat of silence, where not even Joy dares look at Logan. Logan swallows and turns his eyes toward the ground, feeling Roman’s gaze burning daggers into his back. Does this count toward resolving the little spat he never bothered explaining to Roman? Hell, Roman might not even know Logan was mad—for all he’s been told, Logan just decided out of nowhere to start talking to the interns. Logan should’ve just kept with the mediocrity, should’ve stayed within arm’s reach of his safety net, should’ve learned to grit his teeth and bear it while Roman prattled on, completely oblivious to how much better he was than Logan.

“Roman and Logan,” the director finally says. “You two stay. Everyone else, you’re excused.”

The remaining people cannot possibly get out of the room fast enough. It’s concentrated chaos as they scramble to gather their respective belongings and rush the door, a bunch of space enthusiasts who would probably rather be on literal Neptune right now than in this room. Come to think of it, Neptune doesn’t sound too bad to Logan, either. He sinks back into his chair and wills himself to be smaller, wills Roman to ignore him and just stay—

Roman takes the seat directly beside Logan. “Thanks for the assist,” he says under his breath, elbowing Logan gently. Logan smiles weakly at his own fists, clenched tightly in his lap, and wonders if this is the last time these hands will be employed by NASA. Wondering if this is finally it, if the director has had enough of Logan’s pathetic attempts to take risks, has finally decided to do away with Logan entirely, to let him fade into obscurity as some guy who coded a coffee delivery app with a gimmicky name.

Director Gazebo stares long and hard at the both of them, and probably has been for a while now—not that Logan would know the difference, having only just looked up from his hands. There’s something behind the mask of calm in the director’s face, just like there always is, and just like always, it’s something Logan can’t quite comprehend, something he isn’t sure he wants to comprehend. When he opens his mouth, Logan’s heart finally finds itself at the bottom of that bottomless pit.

“Are either of you aware of how long it would take mankind to reach Neptune?”

An unexpected starting point, to be sure, but at least it’s something Logan is prepared for. “It took Voyager 2 about twelve years in the eighties.”

“Voyager 2 was unmanned,” Roman adds. “None of that extra weight for people or provisions, so that probably maybe definitely influenced that time.”

“Why?” Logan asks. It’s always been one of his favorite questions, to tell the truth. He wonders whether the director feels the same. Then he wonders whether the director realizes he means ‘why ask about Neptune,’ not ‘why would weight influence travel time.’ Then he wonders whether the director knows he wonders this.

“As only Voyager 2 has managed to make it that far—and beyond, in fact—there is still a good deal of things we’ve yet to learn from Neptune, like why it has such high winds, or why its magnetic field is offset, not to mention that there’s been another Great Dark Spot since the one in eighty-nine.” Okay, so at least it was clear what Logan was asking.

“I’m still not totally clear on why this matters,” Roman admits. Logan sighs quietly, relieved that someone in this room had the nerve to voice the general fears floating lazily through the air. “I mean, it’s got nothing to do with the moon, which is supposedly why you called the meeting, right?”

“It’s got everything to do with the moon,” the director corrects. He steps away from the projection screen and begins pacing the room, waving his hands about like frantic hummingbirds to emphasize his points—provided he actually makes any. “The moon is the closest celestial body to our planet, so everything with a greater distance than that can be expanded upon based on its relative distance and size compared to the moon. If we learned to walk with the moon, we can run with Mars, and we could fly with Neptune.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Logan says, feeling like it’s been a little too long since he’s spoken up. Regardless, his words seem to roll off the director’s hunched shoulders as he continues pacing, unperturbed.

“Twelve years is a long time, not to mention the additional weight for the food and crew, and the emotional and mental tolls on the passengers and their families, as it would be a minimum twenty-five year round trip—that’s a quarter of what a layman considers his life span. But if we could cut that down, shave off a few years from either end, move from here to there as if we were taking but a single step…” The director trails off with his hands frozen in front of his face, fingers not quite touching, so stiff they almost tremble. “Imagine how much we could gain from that. Just—just imagine it.”

“Do you mean in terms of Einstein’s and Rosen’s theory of general relativity?” Logan’s voice is laced with disbelief. Einstein-Rosen bridges, wormholes, whatever you want to call them, it’s all theoretical, and all just the slightest bit terrifying. Two mouths at either end of an imaginary throat, from point A to point B in moments, microscopic and unstable. Just imagine it? Sure, just imagine the likelihood of the wormhole destabilising under the effect of exotic matters and spitting out the passengers to who knows where.

Logan, if you couldn’t tell, is not particularly fond of the idea of wormholes, much less black holes. His concerns are usually (to his relief) unfounded, since whoever is crazy enough to look for wormholes hasn’t been successful in their endeavours. Not yet.

“But that’s only assuming you actually can fold the space,” Roman protests, yanking Logan out of his own mind. Apparently they didn’t care to wait for Logan to process the absurdity of it all before continuing the conversation.

“But who says we can’t? ” Director Gazebo shoots back.

“Who said anything about we?” Roman’s voice is incredulous and maybe, just maybe, a little bit excited. Good excited or bad excited, though, Logan has no idea.

“Well, me, just now, for one.” The director starts pacing again, ticking off numbers on his fingers as he goes. “Katie-Lee also vouched for the idea, as well as some of the directors at the floater branches—most of them report to Kennedy, anyway, so I’m sitting pretty high and dry here, and they all went for the idea. Logan, any valuable input here?”

Logan blinks, not prepared to be included. Not yet. “I, um, no?” Then he wonders whether the director heard ‘I, um, no,’ or ‘I, um, know.’

“Well, you can hardly fault me for asking. I mean, after that presentation you gave, not to mention the increasing quality of your work lately, I assumed you’d be desperate to make your case for this mission.”

“What mission?”

Roman shoots Logan a look, and Logan wonders just how long he was tuned out of the conversation. Too long, apparently.

“Why, Mission Neptune, of course.” At that, Logan is viscerally reminded of the conductor from that time Virgil forced him to watch The Polar Express. The director, at least, doesn’t seem put off in the slightest by Logan’s mental absence. He whips out a pen and scrawls something on his forearm, mumbling under his breath, “We really need to come up with a better name for that.”

“I—you’re planning a mission to Neptune?” It’s not even worth it for Logan to try to keep the shock out of his voice.

Roman, miracle of miracles, recovers much quicker than Logan. Probably because he’s been paying attention. “Okay, cool, but why did you still say we? Why did you only keep me and Logan behind?”

“Logan and me,” Logan murmurs. At least if his basic conversational skills continue to fail him, he’ll always have ironclad grammar to fall back on. On which to fall back, whatever.

“You want to go into space, do you not?”

“Absolutely.” In sharp contrast with Logan’s immediacy and certainty is Roman’s loud silence. Logan gives him a quizzical look.

“I’m not saying I don’t,” Roman finally huffs, “but I’m not saying I do, either. There’s way too many things that could go wrong for this to be a spur of the moment hell yes type response, y’know?”

Logan tries very hard (by which he means a normal amount) not to look smug as the director stares at Roman in shock. So much for a guy who’s great because he broadens his horizons. As soon as the prideful thought crosses Logan’s mind, he shakes his head to get rid of it—tearing down his friend won’t do anything for his own career, much less his own humanity. Another, much scarier thought crosses Logan’s mind next: He just internally referred to Roman as his friend.

Logan really ought to start paying better attention when conversations are happening around him between very smart people who don’t think to wait for him to catch up.

“Just keep an eye on your inboxes, alright?” The director stops pacing at the door and tugs it open, gesturing for the two to take their leave.

“Give us a minute,” Roman says, remaining firmly in his seat. The director purses his lips and wrinkles his nose, but he does go, leaving the room blissfully empty in the absence of his commanding presence.

Roman turns to Logan and cocks his head to the side. “Alright, my dude, I’ve known you for basically a lifetime now.”

“Five years, max.”

“Same difference. Anyway, I’ve known you a while, yeah? So I know what your face looks like when you’re zoning out, ’cause you’ve got way too much going on up in that head of yours. How much do I need to fill you in on, so you aren’t totally out of your depth when Gazebo brings it up again?”

“A basic rundown would be stellar. I heard that he’s aiming for Neptune, and he’s trying to employ some Wrinkle in Time mechanics to do it. We haven’t even spotted a wormhole yet, Roman. Those things are so small, too, what is he thinking?”

“Probably that he should’ve had Katie-Lee give that promotion to someone who knows how to listen.” Roman laughs as he ducks to avoid Logan swatting at his head. “Hey, hey, this is neutral territory! Anyway, he said he was stuck on the moon stuff with his presentation ’cause he doesn’t want to go talking to the whole building and company and all about it, but he thinks he found a way to straight up manufacture a wormhole, and he wants to test that with an outwardly routine trip to the moon. Manufacture his demon wormhole or whatever, and if it works, great, and if not, well, it’s just the moon, so we won’t be too far, anyway. Doesn’t really add up that he’d call it Mission Neptune if he’s trying to hide it, but whatever.”

“And he told us this why?”

“Because I’m such a motor mouth that most people have learned to just tune me out by now, or assume I’m spouting total nonsense. You, on the other hand, he knows you’ve got your whole deal with that lifelong dream of getting off the planet or whatever, so obviously you wouldn’t go spreading the details, not at the risk of someone else taking your spot on the ship.”

“He told you all that?”

“Context clues. I’m very smart.”

Logan blows a puff of air through his nose and stares at his hands again, picturing them at the helm of a literal console in a literal rocketship on its way to literal Neptune. “Be pretty hard to cover up supplies for a mission to Neptune when you want it to look like a routine trip to the moon.”

“Why else would he hint at sending follow-up emails? Not to mention, if the wormhole situation shortens the trip, we wouldn’t need much more than a normal moon mission, anyway.” Roman scoots his chair closer and pushes his face right up into Logan’s. “You’re really off your game today, y’know that? Is it ’cause you suddenly decided to start talking to me again?”

“Something like that.” Logan checks his watch, weighing the merits of continuing to talk here versus returning to their desks. If nothing else, the director hasn’t returned to yell at them yet, so that’s something. Logan inhales a couple seconds longer than he needs to, blows it all out in one big breath, and explains to Roman the situation regarding his new risk-taking self. He even adds how, all along, Roman has been the true superior, much as it shreds Logan’s heart to say it. At least now Roman has proof that he’s as good as he thinks he is. What use is pride if left uncorroborated, right?

“Okay, well that’s dumb, so we’re not gonna talk about that nonsense garbage ever again,” Roman says, shaking his head. “I mean, really? Me better than you? Obviously I’m just socializing, and that definitely shows in the few papers where I’ve actually tried. He probably just wanted to push you over the edge so you would be more involved and engaged, more likely to help with his whole Neptune shebang.”

“That’s a good mission name,” Logan mumbles. He expertly ignores everything else Roman said. “Neptune Shebang.”

“No, it really isn’t. Do you even want to do it?”

“I mean, obviously I do, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, ever , but there’s still…” Logan lets his voice trail off, picturing Virgil’s face. Picturing Virgil sat on the couch in front of the television, watching Logan blast off the planet in a storm of fire and gasoline, leaving Virgil over two billion miles behind him, in the plain old Earth dust. “I don’t know. I used to know, but I think what I knew changed somewhere along the way.”

“Makes sense.” Roman pushes his hands against his knees and bounces to his feet, then crooks his elbow to the side. Logan accepts the gesture, rising with Roman’s assistance and following him to the door. “I mean, it’s not like you have to know if you’re going right this second. You don’t even know if you’ll get chosen for it. Maybe they switch around the requirements or knock down the capacity or something, and they just bump you out of the running because you’re needed on Earth or they’re afraid you have the measles or something. Hell, they could deny the mission request altogether. Whatever happens, you definitely don’t have to make any major decisions about it just yet.”

Logan nods to himself as the door clicks shut behind them. Eventually, he very well have to make that choice. But not yet.

[rileymarie]

Fangs Pt. 3

“What do you think Rowan the Loser is in for?” he says, nudging him in the arm and pointing to the front row of desks where a redhead kid is sitting hunched over a notebook. “Being a NERD?” he laughs, and launches a crumpled up piece of paper at the back of his head. The kid fidgets when it hits him and starts to look up, but stops himself. I get the feeling this happens a lot. “Hey, whatcha doing over there, Rowan Loser? Too good to even look at us?” the blonde bully says, as I’m now calling him in my head.

I look up at the desk, where Mr. Carmichael sits, a book in his hand. I can tell he knows what’s going on - I mean, you’d have to deaf to not to - but he’s the hard ass type who doesn’t believe in interfering with bullies for students - well, the male ones, at least. I wonder what he would think of the bruise on my wrist, if he’d interfere for me. Probably, cause I’m a girl, a little helpless thing that can’t defend herself, while Rowan is supposed to be a man, stand up to the bully, punch him out or something- 

I feel myself grabbing Blonde Bully’s hand just as he’s preparing to launch another piece of paper. 

“Don’t.” I whisper. 

“OW! What’s wrong with you?” he winces.

I don’t answer, because I don’t know. A few weeks ago, I don’t think I would even be bothered to put myself on the line for somebody else, risking my “perfect name” or whatever - but screw it. I’m sick of everybody thinking they can push us around.

I’ve attracted some unwanted attention. Mr. Luis looks up at us over his books, raising an eyebrow at either me or the blonde kid, I can’t tell. Either way, I let him go and Mr. Luis goes back to reading like nothing happened. 

“Freak.” The blonde kid mutters, and gets up and changes seats.

Great. There goes another hit to my popularity, which is rapidly falling since Wednesday.

But that Rowan kid gives me just the briefest passing smiles, which somehow makes me not care so much.

Rowan

I swear I’m just about to get up and punch that punk Tyler Wallace out. Any minute now, ok? Even Mr. Luis expects me to do something about it, god knows he’s not gonna help me out, I’m supposed to do it myself or something according to “Guy Code”. But then - say that I do? Won’t that get me in even bigger trouble than I already am?

It’s not even my fault I’m in here, ok, I’ve been framed! Nick Beal is the one who wanted to cheat off my paper ok? I don’t see him here, nooo because he’s on the Basketball team, big Whoop. What am I, chopped liver? I’m in Newspaper, doesn’t that count for anything? I guess not, because this school is full of a bunch of fascists. 

It’s fine. Detention isn’t all bad. 

Some girl I’ve never even seen before whispered something to Tyler Wallace, and he stopped throwing wads of paper at me. That was pretty cool. Actually - now that I think about it, I have seen her before. Hanging out with Emily and the “rich popular” crowd. That makes me second guess passing her a smile. Maybe she’s just doing it to make fun of me? I don’t know. 

Shut up, Rowan, you’re just paranoid! Maybe she’s just nice. Couldn’t that be possible?

In this school? Not likely.

I turn away, go back to my Trig homework. Somebody’s gotta do it, after all, and there’s not exactly any scholars in my class to copy off of. 

“Screw this.”

I look up to see Tyler Wallace standing up just as the auburn-haired girl that helped me rolls my eyes. Maybe she said something to him he didn’t like. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Luis glares at him over his book.

“Bathroom.” He says.

“Better make it quick.” 

But Tyler’s got his bag around his arm. Probably he’ll just drive off and won’t come back. Guys like him don’t care how many detentions they get. I’m just glad he’s gone when the door slams shut behind him.

“Ugh, I better go make sure he doesn’t take off.” Mr. Luis grumbles, who must have had the same thought as me. He leaves, and there’s a click as he locks the door behind him.

“Is that really necessary?” I hear myself say out loud, turning without really meaning to toward the auburn-haired girl that helped me out. It’s not until I do that the crippling fear of rejection hits me, and I feel myself tensing, gearing up for her to laugh at me, or throw something.

She just smiles softly.

“At least now we can have some peace and quiet.” She says, and goes back to doodling in her notebook.

I smile, nod, ready to let her go back to her charmed, popular life, while I go back to my nerdy, lonely existence, when her drawings catch my eye. “Wow, those are really cool.” 

Again, without really meaning to, just drawn to her like some weirdo, I get out of my seat and sit beside her. For a second, she looks like she’s going to hide her paper and I think I’ve made a grievous error. But instead, she pushes it toward me.

“It’s stupid.” She shrugs, glances out the window.

In the spirals are words written, poetry it looks like, but I can’t make it out without titling it or examining it under a microscope, which would probably weird her out even more than she probably is.

“That’s cool.” I say, and push it back to her so she can keep drawing if she wants.

“I guess.” She says, and it’s quiet for a few moments. I wonder if I should go back to my desk now, but I’ve already moved, it would be weird to go back now. Luckily, she’s the one who breaks the silence. “That kid pick on you a lot?”

I cringe.

“I mean - I don’t mean-”  she frowns. “It’s no big deal.”

“Just embarrassing.” I say, feeling my face grow hot and I know my cheeks must now match the color of my hair. Great.

“I’ve got bullies, too.” She says, and seems to be thinking about something. Then she holds out her arm under the desk, rolls up her sleeve a little. I blink down at the purple bruise on her wrist, almost not sure what I’m seeing for a minute. Then I wince. It looks like it hurts.

“Who the f-” I stop myself from cursing, then realize my mom isn’t here to yell at me, “Fuck did that?” 

She pushes her sleeve down, pushes her wrist back in her lap.

“Nobody. Sorry. I shouldn’t have even shown you. Sometimes it’s just-“

“Easier to talk to strangers?” I finish for her. 

She nods a little. 

“I get that.” I say. 

She looks at me doubtfully, and I feel the need to tell her a secret, since she just showed me one of hers. 

“Everyone’s a stranger when you have no friends… I haven’t had any of those since I moved here.” I shrug.

The look on her face is not exactly one of relief, but understanding at least. 

“I feel like I used to have so many. I was just fooling myself.” She says quietly, almost to herself. 

“Have you told anybody?” I ask lowly.  “Anybody else I mean?”

She shakes her head. “It’s over. He’s not gonna do it again.” She says, like that settles it. Maybe it does. I nod. 

“Good. That’s good…”

She shrugs, like she’s not sure. I don’t know what else to say, but there’s no more time to talk, because the door opens and Mr. Luis shoves Tyler Wallace inside by the backpack.

“Get in there, you little shit.” He mutters. 

Tyler laughs, and stumbles down the isle. I get up and move just before he sits back down next to-

The girl. I still don’t know her name, I realize. I sit down at my desk, try to refocus on my homework while Tyler chuckles and the girl goes back to looking out the window.

Elizabeth

I told him. What was I thinking? To just tell a stranger like that? What if he’s seen us around, what if he knows who my “ex” is?

So what? An angry voice snarls back. Maybe he’ll tell somebody, somebody who matters, like you should.

I push the thought away. Who cares who knows? It’s bad enough I do, and now this random stranger too? No, no one else can know. I’m done with him, done with the whole thing, and my wrist will be fine soon. It hardly even hurts anymore.

But staring at the ugly thing fills me with a shame and a hatred I can’t quite describe. It really can’t heal fast enough.

After detention, I can tell he wants to talk still, to chat and know my name and more of my secrets, and I run out before he has the chance to as soon as the bell rings.

The walk home is lonely, but I’m beginning to like the feeling. I stomp Fall leaves beneath my boot, savoring the crunch, getting lost in my thoughts. A red convertible drives by, honking the horn at me. It’s Emily and Peter, laughing. I flip them the bird, but I don’t know whether they notice or even bother to look behind them to see if I’m still here. 

It’s not until later - too lost in my own thoughts to notice- that I realize I must have taken a wrong turn. Because when I turn onto my street, I realize it’s not a street at all, but an alleyway. What the hell? I turn around and suddenly the street I thought looked so familiar is now foreign to me. My heart sinks in dread.

I’m lost.This was the first time I’ve walked home, and though I was sure I knew where it was, I clearly didn’t. Mom would be so proud.

I wrap my jacket around me, starting to shiver. The Falls here are colder than they were in California. I hate the East Coast, I decide, hate Emily and Peter and the principle and the guy from detention who’s name I don’t know-

There’s someone behind me.

No, not someone. Several. I can hear their footsteps. They’re laughing. Guys. And a girl, maybe.

I feel myself stiffen. The sun is setting, blinding me just before it dips behind the hills.

They won’t talk to me. They’ll pass. They’ll pass, they’ll pass, they’ll pass…

And then they do, laughing and walking ahead of me. It’s a guy and a girl hand in hand. Just a couple. Where’s the third? 

I push the thought away. I have to retract my steps, find my way back home. 

Night has fallen by the time I’m on a street I recognize once again, just a few blocks away from my home. My steps quicken, I hope mom is ok, that she’s not worried. Why didn’t she call me? What if something went wrong, what if something happened to her? I should have called her after school, I should have skipped detention, I should have-

“Mom?!” I call as I burst through the door.

I wait, three, two, one - No response. My heart skips a beat. Why isn’t she answering? 

Time is a loop.

A balloon on a string, always filled with the same questions.

And no one shall know the hour.

And no one shall know the time.

It’s always the same question.

Is this the day you die?

“Mom? Mom?” 

Not in the kitchen, or the living room.

I run up the stairs, a cold fist coiling around my heart, squeezing it dry-

Your heart, I carry your heart, in mine… I carry it with me-

Where do I know that poem from? 

Your blood is singing to me even know, I can feel you, far away, 

humming

Please, no, no, no, not today, no- -

I push open the door to her bedroom.

She’s laying on her side, her eyes closed, looking dead.

“Mom?” I hear myself say, and my voice is hardly above a whisper, 

Too weak to even whimper-

I reach for her, my hands cold as ice, turn her over.

“Mom? Mom?” I shake her.

A sigh of relief… A rush of blood to the brain… 

“Elizabeth?” my mom says, blinking at me in confusion.

“Oh thank god,” I push away a wave of tears, from fear or relief, I’m not sure.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she says.

“I thought-“ I shake my head, my panic dissipating like a bad dream. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Tags: @mizzyplatinum

[eleteo125]

12 Days of Christmas Challenge Day 7

@mha-xmas-challenge

Day 7: Secret Santa/ “This isn’t Christmas music.”

           Midoriya was completely ecstatic. That journal is perfect! He can probably write all his notes on heroes in this journal. A thirteen notebook of notes can fit in this journal and it probably wouldn’t be filled halfway!

           Uraraka has gifted him an All Might themed journal that is almost the size of their desk and as thick as a dictionary (or much more thick). “I know it’s a little over the top, but I figured you can use this to record all your notes and you won’t have to go through a bunch of notebooks. You can write in your notebook then transfer it here later and organize it to your liking!”

           “U-Uraraka this is so thoughtful of you. It’s amazing, I-I love it! But you really didn’t have to.

           “Oh hush, it’s the least I can do! You’ve taught me a lot.”

           “Wow, now my gift to you needs to be just as amazing.”

           “Oh you don’t have to, Deku.” But it was too late; he was already muttering a plan to look for the perfect gift for her. Uraraka then left to him to his muttering knowing that there wouldn’t be a point to get his attention at the moment.

           After a few hours of thinking, he still hasn’t figured any gift that she would like and enjoy. So he planned to observe her to get hints of what she really likes and hopefully find useful details.

           The first hint he got is that she really loves sweets; He took note of it and listed down all the sweets he knows she liked. As much as a good idea it is, he wanted to give her something that she can use for a long time.

           Midoriya thought about it and concluded that he could be her secret santa. He could give her gifts throughout the week before Christmas. That’s it!

           He then bought a large box of mochi that he’s seen her buy frequently. He wrote a note saying ‘The sweetest treat for the sweetest girl I’ve ever known. This is a gift of thanks and there are more to come.’ He signed it as secret santa and attached it to the box.

           ‘Now, only thing to do is to give it to her.’ He thought about sneaking into her room and placing it there. But the thought of him sneaking into a GIRL’S room doesn’t sit well with him. But he can’t just leave it outside her room, others might take it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his other classmates, its just that this gift is just for her and is up to her to share it or not. He really wants to go in. He has to if he wants to give it to her, but he can’t because HE’S SNEAKING INTO HER ROOM!!!

           After the debate with himself, he decided that he’ll run in and run out. Yeah, that’s it. He can’t see her personal stuff when he’s fast. He took a deep breath and barged in her room not giving himself a chance to back out of the idea. He placed the box on her bed and quickly ran out then slammed the door shut. By the time he was out, he was tomato red and was gasping for breath.

           He dragged himself to his room and slumped ti his bed, tired of the whole ordeal. “For Uraraka” he mumbled before spacing out. He couldn’t believe he just snuck into her room.

           Midoriya was brought back to reality when he heard loud squealing from the girls’ side of the dorms. He sprinted out of the room and headed to where he thinks the squeals came from. When he got there, he saw his other classmates there. He blushed once he saw them in front of Uraraka’s room and all the girls in there.

           “W-what happened?”

           “Uraraka received a gift. Came here to check out if everything’s fine, turns out she has a secret santa.” Kirishima informed him

           Kaminari was quick to butt in the conversation and said “Or she has a secret admirer.”

           ‘Secret admirer?’ Midoriya thought. It took quite a while for the word to sink into him and by the time he did, he was blushing as red as Kirishima’s hair. He carefully walked out of the scene and headed to his room.

           ‘Secret admirer?’ Secret admirer?’ he thought while walking back ‘Secret admirer, secret admirer, secret admirer? SECRET ADMIRER??!!’ he was now running to his room. When he got there, he slammed the door shut and slid down it curling into a ball.

           ‘Secret admirer? What the heck? It was a gift from a secret santa not a secret admirer.’ He fidgeted with his shirt while lost in thought ‘Secret admirers give gifts to their CRUSH! I gave Uraraka a gift because she’s my friend. I don’t have a crush on her. Wait, do I? NO! Maybe?’

           “AHHH!” he screamed in confusion

           Later, there was a bang on his door “SHUT UP!”

           “K-kacchan? Sorry!”

           Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida were having a group study when Uraraka got a call from her parents. “Ah, excuse me guys I gotta take this.” She said walking out of Iida’s room.

           “Uraraka’s got an old phone, doesn’t she?” Midoriya pointed out

           “Yes. She actually has mentioned that she got it at the start of her middle school.”

           “Woah, that old?”

           Iida nodded “And it definitely shows its age.”

           Midoriya then quickly took note of it. After their group study, he headed straight for his room and started searching his drawers. His mother got him a new phone as a reward for all his accomplishment that year thus resulting in him not being able to use his other phone which he owned for not even for a year. He finally found the old phone and is still in pristine condition. He opened the phone to check if there’s anything that needs fixing and found it fine. Then he remembered giving the phone a factory reset when he got his new phone.

           He put the phone back in the box it came from when he bought it then wrote a note. ‘Hello! I’m gonna go straight ad tell you that this is not a new phone, but it is still in excellent condition. I’m giving this to you because you seem to need it more than me. This was my old phone. But don’t worry, I reset it and it’s good as new. Please don’t shy away from this gift. I hope you use it.’ And signed it secret santa before attaching the note to the box.

           Long story short, the same situation occurred when he placed the gift in her room. It ended the same; him slumped on his bed, incredibly flustered. He wasn’t even surprised when he heard the girls squeal. It’s a phone. Who wouldn’t freak out when someone had gifted you a phone? And from someone unknown no less.

           Midoriya’s heart fluttered when he saw Uraraka use the phone he gave her. He was happy that he gave her something very useful. But he also felt sad, because he wasn’t able to figure out anything to give her next. He hasn’t heard something she’d like from her. He was struggling. So much so that he wasn’t able to focus on the meeting Iida and Momo held for decorating the tree.

           But he was brought back to reality with what Uraraka said “How about butterflies? Anything can look prettier with butterflies on them!”

           “Yeah! They’re tiny and colourful.” Toru added

           “That is a nice idea but there no butterflies during winter.” Momo informed

           “Ehehe, just a suggestion.”

           “Midoriya how about—“Iida was about to ask but stopped himself when he saw him furiously writing on his notebook.

           Toru shivered—or at least assumed she shivered judging from her shaking clothes. “G-g-gosh it sure is cold today.”

           “Momo brought in a lot of teas, why don’t we try it out?” Mina suggested

           “Sure, I love tasting new teas.” Uraraka said immediately getting Midoriya’s attention who quickly took note of her statement.

           That’s two hints and zero gifts. He has to act fast. Christmas is just right around the corner.

           Today he visited his mother at their home. And at the moment, he was sitting in front of a dining table waiting for the tea his mother was preparing. And Inko being his mother, she quickly figured out that something was wrong.

           “Izuku, what’s got you down?” she asked placing the tea in front of him.

           He sighed and figured that it wouldn’t hurt to tell his mother. “Well, I wanted to give this girl a gift but I can’t seem to find the perfect one.”

           “Oh” she said in realization on the predicament her son was in. She was about to think of a response until she saw the butterfly he was doodling while lost in thought.

           “You know, a butterfly means ‘I like you’ right?”

           “W-what?! I—uh” he looked at his drawing then back at his mother “I-it’s not like that! She said she liked butterflies and I figured she wouldn’t mind receiving a gift with butterflies…” he rambled while his mother kept a wide smile on her face. She knows there’s something that he hasn’t realized it yet and she promised herself to let him realize it himself. “A-anyway, it’s not like that at all.” He finished then took a sip of his tea. ‘Uraraka would love to try it’ he thought as he indulged in the tea’s flavour.

           “Wow, your candy cane tea sure is one of a kind. I wish you made it everyday.”

           “Now, now Izuku. You know it’s tradition—“

           “CANDY CANE TEA!” he exclaimed in realization

           “P-pardon me?”

           “Mom, please give me the tea mix you used for this. I’m gonna give it to a friend!”

           Inko just smiled and handed to her son. When he got back to the dorms, he quickly wrote a note. ‘Hello, me again. I heard that you love trying out new teas so I figured to give you one of my favourites. It’s one of a kind and I really hope you love it.’ He attached the note on the box containing the loose tea leaves, and put it in her room.

           We all know how that went.

           Later, he found the girls swooning on the story Uraraka was telling them. When the familiar smell of candy cane hit his nose, he already has a guess on what story she was telling.

           When thinking on what gift to give her in relation to butterflies, he decided to go simple. A butterfly barrette with rhinestones in different shades of pink. He thought about the meaning behind the butterfly and considered they thought of him possibly liking her. It’ll take time, but hopefully it won’t take long for him to figure it out.

           Christmas day came fast. He suddenly found himself alone with Uraraka. “Hey, u-um…I have a—here” he shoved the box in front of her. She opened it and he was completely relieved she liked it. There was a note in it which she read out loud.

           “Hello. I hope you like this barrette. I heard you say that anything can look prettier with a butterfly on them and I know that you’ll look prettier with this barrette on you. Signed your secret santa.” She looked at him surprised with the revelation.

           “I-I h-heard or my m-mom told me that a butterfly means ‘I like you’ and—um”

           “Deku?”

           “Merry Christmas!” he said before running off

           The next day, he saw a pink butterfly origami attached to his door with the note “Thank you for everything – Uraraka Ochaco”

[frederator-studios]

Grace Ellis: The Frederator Interview

Grace Ellis is among the most exciting comic and TV writers working today, and all from coffee shops ‘round Columbus, Ohio. The first comic she created, Lumberjanes, is a NY Times bestselling series, in development as a movie, and brought her home Eisner and GLAAD awards for her cat to try to knock over. Grace is currently writing one of the most magical comics of the year, Moonstruck, but still found time to pen some awesome episodes of Bravest Warriors season 4 (after she determined that the gig was not, indeed, a prank). Grace and I sat down to talk log-doodling, queer representation in comics, and the commonalities between Beth Tezuka and Captain America.

Having written Lumberjanes: were you a Girl Scout yourself?

For a little, until my troop disbanded! Lumberjanes re-connected me with my Girl Scout roots. The inspiration for a lot of the woodsy stuff comes from an outdoor camp I was part of. After college I worked for Autostraddle, the biggest online network for queer women. They host a weeklong sleepaway camp every year called A-Camp. It has a bunch of panels, talent shows, activities - really cool stuff. When I was a camp counselor one year in Big Bear, I made friends with an attendee, Shannon Watters, who’s a writer and editor at Boom! Comics. Later, she approached me about making a comic together.

Wow! So Lumberjanes was your very first comic... ever?!

Yup! The first issue of Lumberjanes was the first comic I ever wrote.

That’s amazing! Wait, backin’ up - what were you doing before?

My big kid job was journalism. I studied a mix of journalism, theater and women’s studies at Ohio State. After school ended I started pitching around and got a gig writing ads for Playbill. Then I got some work with Bustle too. I was doing sort of garbage writing: mostly TV recaps and some vaguely personal stuff here and there. Very little actual journalism. Then I got the job with Autostraddle when the site was still fairly new.

So you taught yourself both comic writing and screenwriting?

Pretty much! I was already familiar with story structure, so it was really about learning to adapt those elements to different formats, and take advantage of each medium. That comes with practice more than teaching. Every format is different. Like with comics, I go panel by panel, one at a time. I have to keep framing in mind while focusing on what’s happening in the scene, and what the characters are saying, because comics are super dialogue-driven. Writing comics is like trying to write the minimum in order to say the most. 

How did Lumberjanes develop from the first ‘let’s make a comic!’ moment?

We drew a lot of inspiration from Ms. Kitty Fantastic and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I developed the concept with Shannon and we started from just rough outlines of the characters. Then Brooklyn A. Allen came on and designed them. And after that we brought on Noelle Stevenson as a second writer. Working all together was really smooth, a cut-and-dry process. We only needed one Skype call per issue!

Which girl in Lumberjanes are you the most like?

Molly - well, I’m always told to answer Molly! She’s the timid and unsure one. But hopefully Jo as well! I like to think that I can be a leader.

How did you come to write for Bravest Warriors?

Shannon submitted me! Benjamin (Townsend, Story Editor) reached out. I actually forwarded the email to my lawyer right away. I was sure that I was getting scammed. I was so excited when it turned out legit!

(“Catbug! You don’t just bust in on someone when they're dukin’. Buddy... we talked about this.”)

Do you have a favorite character in Bravest?

Catbug is the most fun to write. Before pitching the Detective Catbug episode I wrote this season, I prepared by hanging out with a 5 year old. It actually helped! Catbug has the funniest voice, I just love writing him. But Beth is my favorite Bravest Warrior. Once I’d nailed down who she is, I really liked writing her. She kind of reminds me of Captain America: she’s unbeatable and refuses to stay down. And she’s unapologetically herself.

She truly is That Beth. How did you first start working on Moonstruck?

It actually started as a school exercise, with no plan to extend it! 2 years ago I was doing a program with Columbus College of Art & Design, where they partner their artists with pro comic writers. I was lucky enough to be accidentally (I later found out, secretly-totally-on-purpose) partnered with Shae Beagle. The assignment was to write a 5 page scene, with 2 twists; the first building off the second. That became the opening of Issue 1: the first twist is that we’re not in a normal human coffee shop - it’s full of mythological creatures. The second is that the girl we're following who seems totally normal… well, she doesn’t view herself as normal at all.

I’ve wondered why Julie is so insecure, when she’s surrounded by such a diversity of mythological people?

For Julie, it’s really this fear of losing control. She’s has a deep sense that in her werewolf form, she’s not normal. She’s not right. So she’s internalized some really negative stuff about what that means for and about her.

Are there levels of privilege and marginalization in this world around being human or mythological?

Yes - I’ve been working on how to represent societal privilege surrounding mythological and non-mythological people. A big inciting factor in Julie’s story is her falling in love with a girl, who - spoiler alert! - is also a werewolf like she is. But Selena has a totally different perspective on who she is. She’s comfortable with herself.

Your characters are so distinct - what is your process for nailing a character’s voice?

It’s a lot of time thinking about who the character is; how they’d react to things, based on their personalities and what they’ve lived. Living close to a college is a big help because I’m surrounded by people around the age of the characters I write. Overhearing conversations is often inspirational! I also pull a lot from real life and my own friends. I have the best time writing over-enthusiastic characters: the ones that are high energy, always on, and oblivious.  Julie, on the other hand - it was tougher to find her voice. She’s so timid, yet she also has this sardonic edge. It helped when I realized that she would say “Sorry” all the time. It’s her instinct to apologize for herself, even when she has no reason to! After figuring out something like that, that’s core to her character, I was able to grow her voice from there.

What do you find most challenging about writing? And most rewarding?

Being done is very rewarding! And feeling like you nailed it. The worst thing is when you don’t want to write. It’s easier now that it’s my job, because I have to do it. When I was an AV tech at a movie theater, I always wanted to write, but I wouldn’t do it. What’s tough is that I would rather think than write. Thinking is underrated. But the problem is, I know that I should write something - anything! - every single day.

Do you ever do any of your own art?

Nah, I’m not an artist. I draw sometimes. I’m a prolific log-drawer.

Logs?!

Yeah (laughs) I sometimes fixate on one thing and it becomes the only thing I doodle. Logs are that.

That is… oddly fitting! What is your creative process like?

It’s not very strict. My rule is that I leave my house every day before noon and go to a coffee shop. Then I just plug into it.

What do you like to do outside of writing?

Is there such a thing? Video games, especially during winter. Reading a lot of comics, plays and nonfiction. Biographies are great character studies. Currently, I’m reading a novel, The Blunderer by Patricia Highsmith. For writing pretty light and happy comics, I really do like books about heavy guilt and punishment...

Speaking of Patricia Highsmith - with her Price of Salt such a cornerstone in queer writing - what are your thoughts on representation and writing queer characters?

Oh yeah - we’re all familiar with the tropes. The sad stories, the coming out stories. They’re important in their way. But they aren’t what I need to write! I’m not a sad person, so I can’t just put that on. I write upbeat stories about characters who are already out and accepted. I’m a happy, out lesbian. So to represent those characters isn’t just what’s truthful to me - it also says to readers that hey, you can be a happy, out lesbian too!

Do you think there is a market for young adult media with queer characters and themes that didn’t exist a decade ago?

Absolutely. It used to be that anytime a writer put a gay or lesbian character in anything - let alone a main character - they were pigeon-holed as a ‘queer writer’. And a decade ago, that could severely limit, or even ruin, a writer’s career. Now, ‘queer media’ isn’t just a subgenre - gay and lesbian representation is coming into the mainstream. It’s a changing world. Lumberjanes did so well, it uncovered a whole market of tween, teenage girls and queer women. And there hasn’t been enough made for them! Backstagers, Zodiac: Star Force - a lot of the new comics coming out are riding on a wave of realization for the comic companies. They figured out that they were leaving money on the table when it came to queer female audiences.

What’s your advice to people who want to write comics or TV shows?

Write a lot. Write every day, if you can. It’ll make you a better writer. And put stuff on the Internet. It sounds scary, but it’s the best way to get your work seen. At this point, people are getting jobs off of Twitter. Networking is BS!

What is your Dream, or dream gig?

My dream is to write things that I’m proud of in many different mediums. A musical. A video game. A movie. I’m a really big fan of form. It’s an almost intellectual interest: the different things each format brings to the table, and how you work with each to find the best possible way to tell a story.

What are some of your favorite Things?

I loved Saturday Morning Cartoons. Recess, The Weekenders. I like weird slice of life children’s stories. Calvin and Hobbes is a huge favorite. LA Noir is my favorite video game. And one of my favorite comic artists is Alison Bechdel. She does a strip called Dykes to Watch Out For that is absolutely hilarious. ❀

Follow Grace on Twitter and Instagram.

Thanks for the interview Grace! We’ll no doubt be keeping up with you. Can’t wait for the great stories you’ll tell, across all the formats that strike your fancy!

- Cooper ❀