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haillenarte · 4 years

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white day 2020;

Here is a full translation of the (thus far) Japanese-exclusive White Day 2020 Developer’s Blog post.

First, the dry translator’s disclaimers: I acknowledge that this post is four months old. Once upon a time, I was the sort of fan translator who would have rushed to get this done within a week of its posting, but in this case, I was busy with the Ishgardian Restoration Skybuilders’ Ranking when it was first posted, and then after that... well, I just busied myself with other things. I was tempted to skip doing this one completely, but then I felt obligated to complete the series given that I’d translated the post from 2018, so... goodbye to my Saturday morning and afternoon, I suppose.

This post is intended as a polished translation on par with official content. As such, I have taken certain liberties with the text: though it was originally in more or less a script format, I embellished it to make it a prose post consistent with other English developer’s blog posts. Most of the moogle’s narration was invented by me in order to preserve humor and narrative flow. This is nothing that the localization team itself does not do. I can assure you that the core details remain essentially intact and untouched.

If you would prefer to read a more literal take on this text, I am sure that more than a few rough translations exist of it already, so please look for someone else’s post if you want something that’s more of a word-for-word take.

Special thanks to the person I trust best to write Urianger’s dialogue for helping me with Urianger’s dialogue, and then to a second good friend for Elizabethan grammar-checking the both of us!

Happy White Day, Kupo!

March 13, 2020

It’s ever so nice to speak with you again, kupo!

Do you remember me from the last report, perchance? ‘Tis I, the ever-industrious deputy postmoogle’s apprentice! The rising star that’s, ahem, still training to become a full-fledged postmoogle... kupopo...

This Valentione’s Day — like every Valentione’s Day — we postmoogles were once again entrusted with delivering confessions of love all throughout the realm. So I’m here to give you an exclusive rundown on how my deliveries unfolded, kupo!

First, I tapped into my considerable experience as an aspiring postmoogle to... erm... take care of the most difficult delivery on my list before all the rest. A-As any professional would, obviously!

...Phew!

Oh, it was such a relief that he was asleep when I dropped by, kupopo... I thought my heart was going to thump straight out of my fluffy chest! My paws might have been severed... my pom plucked...

Honestly, I was of the distinct opinion that I had done more than my fair share of the year’s work after that, kupo, but of course I tirelessly flew away to my next destination without complaint!

The second set of Valentione’s Day packages in my delivery satchel were meant for Lord Hien of Doma!

Lord Hien greeted me himself, kupo, friendly as ever. "Ah, the postmaster — right on time as always!” he said, a little breathlessly. “You have my thanks. Would you just leave your deliveries on that table so that they come to no harm?”

What harm? I was more a bit confused, but then I realized that he was in the middle of some sort of... game?

He was running around, being chased by the leader of the Buduga clan, kupo. I suppose they were in the middle of an extremely spirited game of tag! How fun! I remember when I was a young moogle playing tag with my friends, floating in circles with the wind in my whiskers... Oh, for those halcyon days!

Daidukul received a fair bit of stuff from his admirers, too, kupo. More than Magnai, that’s for sure...

Then Isse looked at me as I was laying out everyone’s packages. “Oh, the postmoogle’s arrived?” he asked. “Um, by any chance, are you the one who delivered the year-end gifts from last time? I meant to give my thanks to the person who sent me something then...”

Of course, I told him that would be perfectly fine!

After all, even when it’s not Valentione’s Day, it’s the responsibility of a delivery moogle — or delivery person — to ensure that all the tender feelings they’ve been entrusted with reach their intended recipients. That’s why there’s no better job for me than being a postmoogle!

After my business in Doma was concluded, I flew back to Eorzea, kupo.

I’m a real go-getter — and someone really ought to tell the deputy postmoogle of my great work ethic — so I darted straight to the Black Shroud to unload my paws of all the packages I had for the people there. And what luck! As fortune would have it, I met one of my delivery targets on the road: Sanson Smyth!

“Happy Valentione’s Day, Sanson!” I chirped. “I have some very special deliveries for you and your usual companion!”

“Companion?” Sanson repeated. He sounded a little incredulous. “Er, no, that’s not quite right — it would really be more accurate to call him a vexing subordinate... Regardless, if it is Guydelot you seek, he is no doubt at his usual tavern. Would you like me to walk there with you?”

Oh, but of course I did, kupo! Sanson’s such a thoughtful, helpful man, isn’t he? It was so very nice of him to ask.

Taverns are where travelers go to rest, so they seem like such wonderful places to meet other people, kupo...

Once I’d finished with my deliveries in the Shroud, I let the cool northern winds carry me straight to Ishgard, kupo. And what change it’s gone through! The city was just bustling with the reconstruction effort!

I told Edmont (Count Edmont? Lord Edmont? So confusing!) that I’d come to deliver joyful tidings of love to everyone in House Fortemps again, kupo!

And to Ser Aymeric as well, of course!

And... well, I had a whole sack of things to give to Estinien, but just like last time, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Since writing his name on it and leaving it by the window seemed to work last Valentione’s Day, I asked Aymeric if I should do the same this year, but... kupopo... He didn’t quite seem to approve of the idea.

“We’ve received word from our men afield that Estinien may no longer be operating in Ishgard,” Aymeric explained, “so it may not be enough merely to leave his gifts by the nearest window and expect him to come across them.”

My pom drooped a bit at this pronouncement, kupo. After all, how was I going to deliver Estinien’s presents if even the Ishgardians couldn’t find him? Was it all hopeless, kupo?! All those packages to be returned to their senders... What a waste!

“No, well... Another report indicated some success in luring him with the scent of roasted kraken, seared by dragon’s breath. We might try that, if you’d like.”

I thought that seemed like a reasonable suggestion, but Edmont looked a little concerned. “Ser Aymeric, do you truly think — ?” he began, but then he seemed to change his mind. “...No, forget that I spoke. That being said, the restoration of the Firmament is proceeding apace, so I would exercise caution around undue use of fire...”

Well, I am nothing if not a cautious moogle, so I very carefully cooked up some delicious grilled kraken over an open fire, kupo. We postmoogles truly go above and beyond for our work!

I left his packages with the salted cephalopod as it was roasting, so I’ll bet he was thrilled to find everything set up for him!

I didn’t forget to make deliveries to this place either, kupo.

Whenever I come here, the atmosphere of the room feels so... so holy, kupo. As if the very air is clear... but empty, too. Do you know what I mean?

I cleaned up my posture before I left, kupo, and then it was off to finish the rest of the deliveries!

I had successfully shared everyone’s expressions of love with all sorts of people in Eorzea, and now it was time for... um... the impossible, kupo. You see, I still had a whole stack of especially challenging deliveries to make to the First!

We moogles have a lot of special tricks up our poms, kupo, but even I can’t possibly visit another shard without a bit of help...

I really hadn’t the foggiest idea how to get there, so I wound up consulting the helpful folks at the Eighteenth Floor to ask them how I could get to the First!

And do you know what? They were so nice, kupo! They said that because Valentione’s Day was such a special day, and because they wanted to accommodate everyone’s heartfelt feelings, they’d let me use a special door that would take me safely to the First. Though it was not without... stipulations...

They handed me an enchanted pocket watch and said that if I failed to return before the hand on the watch made a full turn around the clock, I’d never be able to go back to Eorzea again, kupo.

Terrifying! Utterly terrifying! What other job would possibly ask you to put your existence as you know it on the line, kupo?!

But I am, as I’ve said, a professional beyond compare... so I made up my mind and zipped right through that door!

...I admit, I passed out and lost consciousness as I was traveling between the worlds, kupo. But when I came to, I was in a beautiful purple forest, and I could vaguely hear someone calling for me!

So I bounced back into the air and fluttered off to the Crystal Tower, kupo!

Naturally, the first First resident I delivered packages to was the Crystal Exarch. I had things to give him as the Crystal Exarch, and... other things to give him, too, kupo. Presents from a different time, from when he went by a different name.

Now, I must admit, I’ve never quite understood his situation, but I did dutifully deliver his Valentione’s Day gifts each and every year! I simply wasn’t able to enter the Crystal Tower, so I would leave them at the entrance, kupo. I told him this, and then I asked him if he’d received them.

...But he didn’t answer me, kupo! He just started crying!

What was a poor moogle to do? I mean, you’ll notice our paws aren’t exactly great for wiping tears away. Had I made a terrible mistake after all? Should I not have done that?

“No,” the Exarch said, shaking his head. “No, you... you have done nothing wrong, little moogle. Forgive me. Let us move on. We must needs formulate a plan to keep you safe as you navigate this shard.“

I was very grateful to have made the acquaintance of such a cooperative colleague, kupo! With his help, I charted a path through Norvrandt that would let me finish my deliveries in time.

Next time, though, I hope I’m given a bit more time to take in the sights. I still think of those beautiful flowers in Il Mheg, and all the sights and sounds in that luxurious seaside city, Eulmore...

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were there on some sort of business trip, I suppose, and of course they received as many gifts as ever, kupopo. I was very pleased to meet young Ryne for the first time, though!

She was delighted to meet me too, I do believe, and when I explained to her what Valentione’s Day was all about, she smiled and said, “It’s so wonderful that there are such beautiful holidays on the Source!”

“I’m sure Norvrandt will begin celebrating its own holidays before long, now that it isn’t under threat of the Light,” Thancred told her. “If you want, you can start a holiday of your own, with your friends.”

“That’s true,” Ryne giggled.

Urianger was especially pleased to see Ryne smile, kupo! Er, what was it he said again? “Pray enjoy thy gifts, to the delight of those who give thee affection.” Something like that, kupo? And also, um... “Have care lest thou shouldst cross paths with pixies and their kin, for therein lieth a penchant for mischief most troublesome.”

Yes, that was it, kupo!

Seeing everyone smile made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy too, kupo. I realize I’m always warm and fuzzy, but I mean extraordinarily so!

After ensuring that all of my packages arrived in the hands of their recipients on land, I then had to travel all the way to the bottom of the deep blue sea. It still boggles my mind that people on the First live beneath the ocean waves, kupo!

It took me some time to find someone who would respond to me, but I managed it eventually. “Why, hello there!” I said. “Yes, you, the tall fellow over there! Do you know where I might find someone by the name of Emet-Selch? I’ve a long story that I haven’t the time to tell, but to cut it all short, I have a pile of presents that I must see into his hands!”

I couldn’t quite make out the tall fellow’s face behind his mask, but I got the impression that he was smiling at me, kupo. “You are troubled, little one. Yes, I understand... If you would deliver these glad tidings to him, then let me give you a helping hand. Here.”

Poof!

I couldn’t believe my eyes, kupo! With a snap of his fingers, the tall man made all my packages for Emet-Selch disappear into bits of light!

This wasn’t in any of the procedural manuals the deputy postmoogle made me memorize back-to-front, so I admit I might have panicked a little bit... but the tall fellow calmed me down soon enough.

“Even sweet gifts such as those you bear are only masses of aether,” he explained. “Once reduced to their base components, they will go to where he is — where all life eventually arrives. Be at ease, child. Whatever his faults in character, our lord of the dead and king of the underworld is an exceedingly clever man. No matter how vast the sea of life may be, he will surely be able to pluck his presents from the aetherial flow... supposing he desires to do so, that is.”

Now, I didn’t truly understand the finer points of this explanation, kupo... but the masked man seemed sincere about getting those gifts to Emet-Selch, so I decided to believe that he hadn’t done any harm.

I wanted to thank him for his help, but then he was gone in the blink of an eye! Even though I was in the middle of speaking with him when he vanished!

The citizens of that place are so mysterious, kupopo...

After all that was said and done, kupo, I had one final delivery to make. Just one last addressee to track down, and then I’d be finished, kupo!

And I really put my all into it. I swear upon my postmoogle’s cap and bag! I looked everywhere, every mountain high and valley low, but I simply couldn’t track him down.

The time left on my pocket watch was starting to run out, kupo, so I had to accept defeat. Disappointed, dragging my drooping pom behind me, I made my way back to the door between worlds, which already looked like it was in danger of disappearing, and leapt through the gates...

Mayhap I had cut it so close to the last second that something went wrong, kupo?

I passed out again, and when I came to, I was rolling around on an unfamiliar grassy knoll... while someone was poking at me to wake up, kupo!

What luck! What incredible luck! It was the very person I’d been searching for, for all that time, up until the very last second — Ardbert!

I almost cried and threw myself at him, I was so happy! To think that I would find him like this! “Ardbert, Ardbert!” I said, like he was an old friend. “I finally found you! I had all these presents to give you, kupo!”

He laughed and took it all in stride, though this must have been greatly puzzling to him. “What’s this? Another reward for the quest we just finished?”

“No, it’s not, kupo!” I replied, perhaps a little more crossly than I should have. “Here, this is for you! Take this, and this, and this! It’s all yours, kupo! Each package represents someone’s feelings for you, kupo! Everyone loves you so much!”

“Careful, now — oh, these look delicious!” he exclaimed, affably embarrassed as he sorted through the boxes I was admittedly pelting him with. “And this is all for me? You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, kupo! Eat them all up and have more faith in yourself, Ardbert!”

His eyes crinkled at their corners when he smiled. “Hahah! You’ve got a point. Then I’ll share these with my friends just over there. My thanks for bringing them all this way here, postmoogle. You’ve done a great job.”

...

I don’t quite remember what happened after that, kupo...

When I came to, I was lying on the counter of the Seventh Heaven, evidently having dozed off next to that Wandering Minstrel fellow. At first, I thought perhaps meeting Ardbert in that strange world had been nothing but a dream, but when I checked my postmoogle’s bag, I realized that it was much lighter, kupo!

So I really had met him, and I really had completed all my deliveries!

This year’s Valentione’s Day deliveries were arduous and difficult, kupo, but at the end of the day, I really did have a lot of fun.

I delivered all of your love to everyone else, kupo... and now I’m here to deliver their love back to you!

One more time, for everyone’s sake: Happy White Day, kupo!

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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Ask Explo--

...you know what, you’re right. Name change effective immediately.

Askplosion #10:

(unrelated to everything by the way but I DEMAND THE ANON WHO MENTIONED “REMARRIED EMPRESS” A WHILE BACK COME FORTH AND ANSWER FOR THEIR CRIMES. IT’S SO GOOD BUT IT’S UNFINISHED AND I’M HOOKED, HOW DARE YOU)

Asks responding to previous posts:

It’s okay! I figured that was what it was but it’s been so loooong.

Ah, wow.

Um, that’s definitely not a part 2; I think that’s more like a four-parter/five-parter or something.

Sorry! No can do!

That’s totally fair!

I think the reason I so quickly agreed with it is like--

I’ve been watching the Inuyasha sequel and it’s not like I don’t think the narrative’s apparent punching bag Moroha (who is fourteen years old) shouldn’t be punished when she does something wrong/sneaky/manipulative, but they punish her as if she’s Miroku (who was eighteen years old).

Basically, I want the punishment to take the age into account, or at least only affect Marinette on a more personal level and not be “Heart Hunter” where they take totally understandable feelings of heartache (remember, it wouldn’t have mattered which miraculous she took because Hawk Moth got the Miracle Box and Fu regardless; even beyond her emotions, I feel like she chose the best option available to her considering which temps she knew the location of) and then punish her for them by memory wiping Fu and taking away all of her temps and giving Hawk Moth the grimoire translation.

Yes!! I really wanted to respond to this one, thank you! (It’s this one and then there was another one talking about Luka and Adrien, then talked to me about how I refer to Luka as “soft” but not in a bad way; I unfortunately don’t remember the whole thing.)

Ahaha, and yeah, I feel you. Anti-salters are a very strange conundrum I still haven’t figured out; like, I get not liking salt, but...

I mean, when I don’t like certain content, I just blacklist it. If I end up seeing it anyway due to cross-tagging or a lack of tagging, then I just blacklist the person themself. You won’t see me going after people for that very reason; I only see what people send/ask me if it’s content I don’t like.

I’m glad you’ve found some peace in this blog! Hopefully it continues to be that way for you in the future!

(and yay, a fellow INTJ!!)

New Asks:

There are female writers? ;P I just assumed they were all locked in a closet until the male ones were like, “okay, pretend to help us here, we need one female writer to claim girl power.”

As for Ladybug all like, “Cute, isn’t she?” I think it was rhetorical (she could also be messing with him but “Glaciator” tells us that she didn’t know he crushed on her so who knows). The writers do this thing where Marinette is all panic-y and occasionally self-conscious as herself, but then as Ladybug, she suddenly gets a bit of an ego. I think it’s meant to be there in order to make Chat Noir look less... idk, “obnoxious” when he starts boosting his own ego; trying to balance the two by giving them both big heads, so to speak.

Honestly, I feel like Adrien needs less screen time. :|

Even when he’s not on-screen, characters are usually talking about him, or you see his face in Marinette’s room/somewhere in Paris. I’m become so jaded by the guy that I don’t even think it’d matter if they remade the series and gave it a “totally good and interesting Adrien.” That’s how badly the show has made him out for me; “Adrien Agreste” the character is just... sigh, I’m so done with him.

And yeah, this whole idea about, “Marinette is [x], we need more AAAAAADRIEN!” comes off really bad, lol, especially when Adrien has very little going for him.

(this ask ends off like there should be a part 2 but there isn’t one in my inbox, so sorry if there’s meant to be something else!)

The exact lyrics according to the wiki:

My wish for a cat who's in love, with our own Ladybug. Is that he'll get what he's always wanted! She doesn't know she loves him, only sees Adrien, But Christmas miracles always happen!

Yeah, especially nowadays, those lines bothers me. Not only does it imply “true selves,” but that it’s Chat who should be getting what he always wanted and Ladybug is the one with a problem.

Like, excuse me?

Probably Stormy Weather, even in the first episode. Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t even touch her until they arrived on top of the TV station.

+ With all those effects and shots, it made it feel more action-y than typical episodes.

Marinette, Aurore, Luka, Anarka, Jagged...

basically any name that I haven’t really heard before (”Luka” makes me think of Vocaloid but the Luka there was female), or a name that relates a lot to the character (like “Aurore” for “aurora” since she loves weather things).

dfjbghfkdgfdgnjfdg this anon really like, “I NEED ANSWERS!!!”

It’s as if these characters hit 18 or something and just grow overnight, I swear. I’m hypothetically fine with some more variety in character height (it’s not like the show tries to be realistic, after all), but maybe don’t give us official heights if they’re gonna be this weird/inaccurate.

Especially when they change it just for the sake of a shot anyway. If you watch “Simon Says” when Ladybug and Adrien stand next to each other while looking at the picture of Adrien’s mother, the very next close-up has an obvious difference in their heights from what you just saw.

They’re 3D models!!! This shouldn’t happen!

I... honestly never thought of the “less threatening” thing! Dang!

And yeah, Marinette isn’t helpless or incompetent, but because of the Adrien crush, it makes her that way at times since she’s always falling on him and--

...ugh, actually, yeah, don’t wanna think about those implications. Hard pass.

Gross.

I’m not familiar with that one, though Astruc deletes his tweets all the time (there was one tweet where he confirmed that Luka was poor and it only exists in screenshots now because it didn’t get archived and he deleted it almost like he realized that he was pointing out the blatant classism in the show, oops).

Yeah though, I haven’t seen anything like what you’re describing. Sorry!

It’s okay! Sorry for having you clarify but him choosing and Marinette deciding to never give it back are very different things.

I don’t recall Chat Noir having much purpose in the final fight (in terms of both contributing and actual fighting; I know Cataclysm broke the object to release the akuma but was it needed?) so Marinette might either go cat-less or get a temp. Plagg could also be helpful in his own right because he’s small and blends in with the night, so he could hypothetically sneak up on the bad guy.

Afterwards, there’d need to be a new cat, but Adrien would also have to reconsider his actions and really think about what happened. I could also see Plagg going to Adrien’s house, half to apologize for giving the idea to Adrien that Adrien leave without telling Ladybug, but also half to call him out for giving up without consulting anyone. Adrien is a lot of conflicting things (see Adrien’s passivity compared to Chat Noir’s recklessness) so he’d have to find a middle ground within himself.

Marinette might carry Plagg around in her purse for a while and let Plagg have a say in who he goes to. Plagg might grieve for a bit over not having Adrien around (even if Adrien was flawed, Plagg didn’t ask for any of this so Marinette is doing her best here).

O-oh.

That’s always the rough patch with “endgame ships.” Once it’s obvious to the audience that they’re endgame, no more effort needs to be put into them.

The other thing too is how Kagami, for example, is friends with Marinette. Even once Adrimi sinks, she’ll presumably stay friends with her. Luka, meanwhile, is Juleka’s brother.

They have lives outside of their love interests. Adrien is so into Ladybug that he doesn’t have that; I mean, Nino is Adrien’s best friend like once in a blue moon.

The entire class is just watching an episode and then calling on raised hands to answer what was wrong with what they just watched.

“Everything?”

“I mean, yes, but I’m sorry, you have to be more specific to get credit.”

I think Aeon herself is fine. It’s mostly just her transformed and that transformed name that I have a problem with (she doesn’t even look uncanny so I don’t get it). I heard there was something wrong with the name “Aeon” but searching the name doesn’t give me anything I would qualify as such so I have no idea. I just wish she was given a little less “I’m programmed to--” (makes her seem less sentient) and more “[anything that doesn’t have to do with pushing the love square]” because I feel like they might’ve done the latter to make her more “likable”? I think fans of anything usually like the “matchmaker” character provided it’s for a ship they like. Also strange that they make her a robot but Max and Markov don’t extensively interact with her, but that’s a nitpick and not a criticism of her character.

...I’m rambling, my bad lol.

(Ohhh, she was supposed to be a mummy? Like, foreshadowing her “dying”?? That went right over my head but I guess that’d be where the name Uncanny Valley came from? No clue.)

Best case scenario is probably the middle or the end of Season 4.

And yeah, it really doesn’t matter to me what they do with the love square. Marinette had gone through too much suffering and the show goes out of its way to show how much stress Marinette is being put under (and also keeping Luka away during episodes like “Gamer 2.0″ even when it makes sense for them to be there, as if trying to make sure Marinette doesn’t have enough moments with him to forget Adrien).

Like, ah, yes, I totally believe that Marinette is in a position where she can make reasonable decisions about her love life while all circles of her life are on fire.

If the Sonic movie of all things can have an interracial couple, there’s no reason why this show can’t, just saying.

And, even with Marinette, she’s white-passing (according to what basically everyone says, I’m really awful about recognizing race so this isn’t my field; I wasn’t aware that Ondine was Asian, for example).

Does Nadja count? Manon’s dark-skinned (I’m still not over the fact that all the kids in this show are dark-skinned; it’s not like it’s a problem from a representation standpoint - though all the kids are also all generically bratty/whiny so there’s that - but the percentages in this show are weird) while Nadja is really light-skinned, meaning either a dark-skinned husband or Manon is adopted.

Though I guess the problem then is that we don’t know, so there’s no established couple there.

Non-Miraculous Asks:

w-who gave you the right to say such things????

Uhhhh, that might be too broad of a question, I’m sorry!

I know this isn’t satisfactory, but I will say that my favorite genre is Fantasy/Romance (it’s why I adore Red Shoes so much; by the way, an anon asked for my opinion on that a while back and I will get to it! I’d need to watch it again to get screenshots) and my least favorite is probably Tragedy/Horror.

I don’t think I’ve watched enough to really be able to say? I’ve kind of been all over but I’ve never fully gone through any of them outside of Miraculous. I’ve seen bits of Sailor Moon, Tokyo Mew Mew, Star VS the Forces of Evil (don’t know if that counts), and I meant to watch Yuki Yuna is a Hero but never got around to it. I saw the entirety of Puella Magi Madoka Magica but you guys know how I feel about that one.

Maybe Cardcaptor Sakura by default then? It was definitely not perfect but I liked some of the character dynamics (I also have a clipcut of it - basically where I go through a series/movie and cut out parts I don’t like so it’s only good stuff - so I’m cheating a little) and the male love interest was a tsundere type that I actually ended up liking, which is really rare.

!!! That sounds sweet~ I know Sailor Moon is popular so I’ll definitely take your word for it on that one.

I would also accept a “reincarnated”/”destined lovers” trope if maybe the ship themselves are the one who set it up in the first place. I have a Lukanette AU, for example, where they basically got together and then prayed to the shrine of the renewal god that they’d “always be together,” which ended up allowing them to reincarnate over and over (as if they set up their own soulmate AU ;P) and continuously find each other.

Though I guess that’s not technically a “meant to be trope,” but still, it’s a form of it but where it was totally consensual on both sides.

Also, I finally thought of a show that ended with the ship I wanted: Gargoyles. I didn’t see the entire series, mind you, but I saw most of it and Goliath and Elisa were just... quality, I adored them.

+ With Beauty and the Beast being my favorite Disney movie, they fit right in with my tastes.

I forget that AangToph (I think the “official” name for the ship is Taang, but don’t quote me on that) exists sometimes, maybe because I’ve never shipped Aang with anyone; I’ve got no problems with the ship though.

Ugh, and this is what I mean when I talk about people who set up these reasons behind people shipping something based on what they saw a few people do. It’s like, “you only ship Adrimi/Lukanette to spite Adrienette!!”

Meanwhile, me having shipped all three at one point and then dropped off the love square.

Also, me shipping Zutara has nothing to do with it being dark/edgy because I’ve never seen it that way (intriguing, sure but dark and edgy? lol) and also avoid dark/edgy ships like the plague.

I still laugh at people who are like, “you can’t ship it because it’s not endgaaaaame!” as if shows can dictate how and why I enjoy something. Like sure, if you want to let a show/movie spoonfeed you how you’re supposed to feel, then by all means, go ahead.

I suppose people may be theoretically happier that way, but it doesn’t make for an analytic mind.

I legitimately thought that “AssClass” must’ve been the actual name for something until it registered with me what it actually meant.

And eh, I guess it depends on the comparison and how accurate the comparison actually is? Like, comparing Puella Magic Madoka Magica to Miraculous... they’re not really close at all, but comparing... idk, Bunnyx to Homura or the concept behind “backfiring wishes”... maybe?

(note that the rest of this post is more Puella Magi Madoka Magica salt so you can stop reading here if you’re not interested in that; I’m not sure if this is all the same anon but I don’t mind letting people vent so I let them go off~)

why can’t we just have nice things

I agree, and I give a little eyeroll every time it’s like, “oh, this person had [miraculous]”

+ even just in general, I feel weird about any show that mentions/implies that real world famous people are [x] or [y] in their show. It breaks my immersion; real world locations are one thing but when it’s specific people (unless they’re made up characters like Santa Claus) or games just--break me.

I also don’t know what to think when there aren’t magical boys but you have these magical girls in this frilly outfits/skirts. The demographic is girls so I presume the reason must be like, “you can look pretty and still beat people up” (;P) but having so many magical girl shows without a hint of a magical boy makes me suspicious that it’s for fanservice. Sailor Moon has Tuxedo Mask but I also don’t know what that guy did outside of the meme of him doing nothing so I’ve got no clue.

(edit: I should correct myself that I’m not talking about Sailor Moon specifically; I don’t know magical girls that well, though I do know there are ones clearly intended for fanservice (you could say that for anything, to be fair, but still). It’s just that I see things like super short skirts or very “questionable” shots and I’m just like, “hm”)

Hmmm, good question. I feel like there has to be a lot but I’m also the type who doesn’t watch a lot of TV lol. I’m just familiar with cliches and tropes and such.

The reason I try not to use “ism”s of any kind is mostly because it’s too broad. Like, you know how the English language only has one way of saying, “I love you,” but other languages like Spanish have multiple?

It’s like that, and sometimes I think it’s too easy to throw those words out there. A “small” (possibly completely unintentional/misunderstood) offense is sexism, and then a “large” offense is called the exact same thing. I’d rather go into why something is sexist than just call it that, y’know? The only exception I make is “classism” because I feel like that’s not as... I dunno, divisive?

Anyway, for that same reason, I can’t answer firmly that, “Madoka Magica is sexist.” I will however say that it makes me uncomfortable with how the show makes out the girls being emotional because they’re young and female and then proceeds to make their life a living hell before they’re old enough to properly answer to it (I know that’s the point but that kind of makes it worse?). It doesn’t help with how all the girls have different personalities, so it’s not like you have only “crybaby girls” who are being taken advantage of; it’s basically like... all girls.

Not helped is the fact that their soul gem not only deteriorates naturally, but it can also do so faster if the girl falls into despair, which then turns them into a monster (and I know it’s kind of like an akuma thing, but the fact that it’s only girls is... I dunno, it comes off wrong?). It seems cheap that the soul gem deteriorates no matter what so it constantly needs fed even if the girl is consistently happy.

I would probably opt for the show being centered more around Kyubey being new to this or something - like, magical girls are a new thing - and then have Kyubey being surprised because they presumed that the soul gem would deteriorate naturally since “emotions are powerful but destructive to the person having them,” but then all the girls team up and help each other work out their problems. Maybe the reason magical girls are usually alone isn’t even because of the grief seed (I think that’s what it’s called?) thing not being able to be shared, but because Kyubey intentionally separates magical girls so they can’t do what the main group is doing, but Madoka is so into the idea that, “We shouldn’t have to be alone,” and so she’s constantly pulling all the girls together, which keeps them healthy.

Maybe Homura’s backstory could be that Madoka originally was more sheepish and more afraid to put herself out there, especially since she was a magical girl (who are encouraged to go it alone), which is why their soul gems were both deteriorating; they were friends but kept more of a distance, or maybe they were a team but that’s all they were. Then Madoka gives Homura the last grief seed to save her and that’s what inspires Homura and makes her see Madoka as something more than a teammate, which is why Homura actively tries to save Madoka specifically (which then encourages Madoka to want to keep everyone together as friends).

In the case that Kyubey doesn’t separate them out of concern of fRiEnDsHiP, but for another reason altogether, and then it’s ultimately their own downfall when they allow the girls to hang out and realize that it’s doing a lot of good for them.

“cute and innocent”

That was exactly it. It’s on Kyubey’s trivia section on the Puella Magi Madoka Magica Wiki.

Before the anime's first dark plot twist aired, head writer Gen Urobuchi said on his Twitter account that the "Kyu" in Kyubey's name comes from the English word "cute". This was a lie meant to further mislead fans into thinking that Madoka Magica is an innocent happy show. In a later episode, it was revealed that "Kyubey" is, in fact, short for "incubator".

In my personal opinion, a spoiled plot can’t be “ruined” if it’s a good plot. If you told me that Kagome was trapped in the Modern era for three years and then decided to stay with Inuyasha at the end of Inuyasha, it wouldn’t/shouldn’t decrease the value when I finally see it for myself because it’s good. That’s not to say that everything should just be spoiled right out of the gate, but it’s saying that maybe your plot isn’t good if you have to rely on shock value to make it work??

I FEEL THAT “ASSIGNING IT TO THE WHOLE GENDER” THING SO BAD. It just adds to my “the girls all have varying personalities so it’s not like Kyubey’s only after emotional crybabies or anything” salt.

I have no idea about any of the stuff about the writers so I can’t confirm or deny them. I will very much agree on the target audience thing though, especially with the whole “keeping the dark plot a secret” because really? Who is this for then? Like, the first two and a half episodes are for one demographic and then the others are--???

I dunno. Me personally, I just like feel good stories. I do like some good conflict and drama (for context, Remarried Empress is basically a webtoon that gives you things to feel salty about and then makes its own salt fic as its plot, allowing for endless streams of feels and catharsis, so I’m definitely not against drama), but there are other times where I just want to feel good watching something.

I feel like the show expects the characters to be selfless/perfect and then punishes them even though it’s their writing that’s causing them to act out. I can’t really talking about “out-of-character” but sometimes it’s just obvious where “we did this because we needed a plot/conflict.”

Like, hello? We don’t need the main characters screwing up; why can’t we just have some feel good thing where they take the day for themselves (seriously, imagine a Miraculous episode where Chat Noir actually tells Ladybug to take a couple days for herself, like maybe someone else gets the earrings for a few days as a temp while Marinette gets to breathe; IMAGINE IT). Not everything needs to be high-stakes to be interesting and you need those calmer moments so that the action-packed ones feel more intense.

SAYAKA DESERVES BETTER.

I feel like the magical girl genre as a whole can be way more complex than it’s made out to be. I think people hear the word “magical girl” and think “cute girls in short skirts talk about girl problems and fight evil with the power of friendship and accessories.”

Ugh, just the mention of Rebellion makes me sigh internally.

Congrats on working on your own magical girl story! I hope it goes well for you!

I know it’s not technically a magical girl show, but there was also Totally Spies that Astruc worked on to some degree (I think there was some characters who were based on/a loose reference to the mains from that show but I don’t remember exactly).

The thing about the female characters suffering is that they could make for good lessons on positively directing one’s emotions (like Usagi from Sailor Moon, for example, maybe having a problem with taking her anger out on her friends, but learns that she can save that rage for the bad guys; “Gamer 2.0″ from Miraculous could’ve done that, honestly, by having Ladybug absolutely WRECK all of her gaming opponents in “violent” (cartoon violence obviously) fashion). It’s just a shame that it’s not taken advantage of.

Sayaka??? Selfish???????

*does not compute*

(Also, I wasn’t tired of them, don’t worry! It was a little overwhelming in my inbox but it’s me who’s allowing all the asks to flow in so the blame isn’t on you lol.)

I’m not sure where this obsession came from with, “you have to be selfless and you’re not allowed to use your powers for yourself.” It’s like the world’s going to end if a character leaves to go Self-Care or something. I think what happened is that shows got this idea that promoting only the giving of others is great and it’s not important to take time for yourself (even with “Gamer 2.0,” it was still Marinette playing games with everyone else, and they treated her dedication and seriousness like a bad thing when she literally did not have time to waste and they didn’t give a reason why it was good for her to take a break, only that she should).

This usually leads to the “demonization” of characters who sport a lot of self-confidence or any sort of ego. It works on both sides; Marinette is a punching bag because of her anxiety and occasional lack of confidence, but if she had an ego as Ladybug, there are parts of the fandom who deem her “obnoxious” (i.e: “Reflekdoll”). There’s a delicate balance between “be confident” and “be humble” and it’s a tightrope act.

#((Yes! This strategy works for not losing asks.))#((In other news--))#((I gotta test out this new microphone so I wanna do a ''Voiced Askplosion'' where I record my answers instead of writing them))#((Anyone who sends me a 🎤 alongside their asks will get a voiced response next time!))#((I probably can't answer everything but you know how it is~))#(((i swear that someone is going to do it just to see if they can get me to swear when I read out their asks)))#((or... like--))#((''ok i don't actually have a question''))#((''but plz say the words 'adrien and marinette are meant to be' because i want to hear how much u struggle to say it''))#category: salt #other: non ml talk #category: ramble #character: Marinette Dupain Cheng #category: fandom #episode: Evillustrator #character: Chat Noir #character: Ladybug #character: Adrien Agreste #character: Stormy Weather #category: me myself and i #category: staff #relationship: Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain Cheng #character: Aeon #character: Uncanny Valley #relationship: love square #MC's Renders #render: persona

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pengychan · 3 years

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[Good Omens] Winging It - Epilogue

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: Aaand we finally made it to the end! Which is a beginning in many ways. How is it going to go? Beats me, but it probably won't be boring. Also yes, I am just posting a Christmas-themed chapter right before Easter. So sue me. I had a blast writing this one - hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing!

***

“Unionize Hell. You’re telling me we should unionize. Hell.”

“Well, it would be a first step towards giving you some bargaining power. Once demons begin seeing Satan as someone you can bargain with through the sheer force of numbers, it will be easier to convince them they can decide to walk away.”

“This is the single dumbest idea I have ever heard coming out of your mouth.”

Sitting beside Gabriel, Michael stiffened and glared daggers across the table. “If this is how you believe you can address us, we may as well end the meeting--” she began, only to trail off when Gabriel grinned, resting an elbow on the table and leaning his chin on the palm of his hand.

“That’s blatantly untrue,” he said, still smiling at Beelzebub. “You’d ve heard dumber by far.”

The prince of Hell’s lips curled upwards for the briefest moment. Michael shifted a little on her seat and glanced over at Dagon, who just so happened to be sitting beside Beelzebub for the meeting. She met her gaze briefly, but it was enough for Michael to know she was not the only one to be mighty uncomfortable at the turn Gabriel and Beelzebub’s formerly entirely professional relationship had taken. That was an odd sort of relief.

Unaware of their second-in-command’s discomfort, or just blatantly ignoring it, Beelzebub let out a thoughtful, buzzing sound. “... Hmph, I suppose I have. But I am ready to be you are not inclined to have the Heavenly host unionize.”

“Ah, actually,you’d lose that bet. We have given the go-ahead.”

The Lord of the Flies blinked. “... You have?”

“Yes. It worked out for my friends back in Southampton, so I figured, why not Heaven?”

Michael briefly wondered if she was supposed to remind Gabriel that Heaven was not precisely the same as a port city on England’s south coast, but in the end she decided against it. She was a warrior, had always been, but a good warrior knows how to pick battles and that was not the hill she was ready to, figuratively speaking, die on.

Across the table, Beelzebub raised an eyebrow while waving away a few fies “And God is not displeased?”

Gabriel shrugged, leaning back on his seat and spreading his arms a little. “I have not been fired yet, and I am taking it as a good sign. I suppose it may create a precedent for angels to leave, if so they wish, on more amicable terms than you did. And possibly with some severance. Who knows, perhaps if you had formed a union in the first place instead of going immediately for full-on rebellion--”

All right, they got sidetracked far enough. “Gabriel,” Michael spoke up.

He cleared his throat. “Right, yes. Apologies. Never mind the past. What I am saying is, it might be a viable path forward now - for beings on either side. Do give it some thought.”

“Mmh.” Beelzebub crossed their arms, leaning back against their seat with a foot braced against the table. To Michael’s surprise - and to Dagon’s utter bewilderment, it seemed - they seemed to be truly giving it some thought. “I suppose that perhaps, this does fall into the ‘so dumb it might just work’ caregory. And it’d make Hell worse for Reagan and Thatcher. I will consider it.”

“Very well. I do believe that concludes the meeting.” Gabriel said, and smiled. He’d been smiling an awful lot throughout the meeting, and not the kind of insincere business-like smiles he would usually sport on such occasions.

No, Michael thought, not usually. Before.

“Actually, there’s more we need to discuss,” Beelzebub said, standing. “Privately, if possible.”

“Ah, of course. Right this way. You’re all right wrapping this up, Michael?”

Trying with all her might not to wonder about their private discussion, Michael nodded mechanically. “Of course,” she droned, and busied herself picking up papers once they were gone, trying to ignore the demon who was very much not gone.

“... For the record, the cold shoulder treatment only works if the one receiving it cares about getting the cold shoulder,” Dagon spoke up after a few minutes, filing papers away in a folder she had seemingly summoned out of thin air. “And I do not care.”

And yet you had to remark on that.

Michael let out a snort, choosing not to argue. She hadn’t been trying to remember the being they had known before their rebellion and Falls, or at least not as hard as Gabriel probably wished her to - Sandalphon and Uriel were fairly ahead of her there - but she did have the uncomfortable sensation she had known Dagon, whatever she was called before, quite well.

Awkward, considering she was rather certain it had been her to cast her out.

“Have you had any success in tracking down the Duke of Hell?”

“Hell has a great many Dukes. You will need to be more specific.”

“I believe there is only one who is currently a fugitive,” Michael said, her voice sharper. “Hastur. The one who kille-- who almost-- sort of killed Gabriel.”

“... We lost him somewhere around Alpha Centauri, but I am certain we will catch up with him eventually.”

“Are you always this inefficient?”

“I mean, you’re welcome to try catching him yourself,” Dagon snarled, snapping the folder shut. It seemed the perfect moment for her to disappear in a cloud of foul-smelling smoke, but she did not; rather, the Lord of the Files seemed to hesitate. Michael had just enough time to wonder if she may have remembered something from before that Michael did not before she finally looked up and spoke again.

“All right, since we are suddenly supposed to have opinions now, what do you really think of this… entire… thing?”

“You mean, Gabriel and Beelzebub’s plan?”

“Calling it a plan seems more generous than I’ve ever known you to be.”

That was true, Michael had to concede. When she had tried asking Gabriel if there was a plan they should know of, he’d only replied that he was ‘sort of winging it’. It certainly was a complete u-turn from how things used to be, but if he had been brought back and… not yet cast out again over his unorthodox involvement with Beelzebub, there had to be a reason.

Perhaps whatever he had learned in his time on Earth would be the key to everything. After what she had done to him by blindly following orders, Michael was willing to heed his words now, and so were the others. If it turned out to be a mistake, they would face whatever consequences there may be as one. Never again would she lift a sword on her friends.

“... No, it is not a plan,” she finally said. “I suppose it is more of a leap of faith.”

“Faith in what?” Dagon made a face. “In God?”

Michael did not take the bait. “More in our own ability to figure things out, I suppose.”

“That’s the sort of thing humanity is all about,” the Lord of the Files muttered, and blinked when Michael let out a brief laugh.

“Well, perhaps that is precisely the point. Try being more human.”

“... Have you hit your head? From the beginning of everything, it has always been human who tried to become more like u--” she trailed off, wrinkling her nose as though she had just sunk her fangs into a lemon. “You. More like you. And from the beginning, you have encouraged that.”

“Maybe that is where we went wrong after all.”

A pause. “Are you seriously suggesting it should be you-- us-- to lower ourselves into being more like them? Really?”

“Well. It is what Yeshua did, and perhaps it was a lesson meant for us,” Michael shrugged, and tuned to the door. “After all it was humanity, and not us, to be made in God’s image.”

***

“Oh, look at that. Another wedding invitation.”

“Shadwell and Madame Tracy?”

“How did you guess?”

“They made it abundantly clear during Anathema and Whatshisface’s wedding reception.”

“Ah, fair. Do you think they’ll allow us to take Warlock to their wedding as well? He got on well with the Them, and Madame Tracy has surely invited those children.”

“Can’t see why not. Are you sure they meant to invite us?”

“This is marked for the Serpent of Eden and the Southern Pansy.They did mean to indeed.”

“No clause against witches?”

“Oh, there is. It is to be a witch-free wedding. The only exceptions to the rule are dear Anathema, Adam, the two of us, and the bride herself.”

“You’d think that by now he would have noticed she only has two nipples.”

“Don’t be crass, dear.”

“Fine, fine. Do you think he’ll ever stop thinking we’re witches?”

“Unlikely. And I am not particularly inclined to disrobe and let him count nipples.”

A hiss. “Old fool.”

“An old fool who managed to swindle both of us for a few decades.”

“... Don’t remind me.”

Aziraphale chuckled, and settled more comfortably in his armchair, setting aside the letters to pick up a book. Wrapped around the back of said armchair, the Serpent of Eden leaned his head on top of Aziraphale’s own. He tended to enjoy inhabiting that form, Aziraphale had found out, when the weather outside was cold and the fireplace was lit.

Amazing, how many more little things about Crowley he’d found he didn’t know, after so many centuries of… acquaintance. Sharing a home with someone really did lead to a lot of interesting discoveries. For one, he could now see the appeal of laying in a bed and hallucinating behind closed eyelids for a few hours.

“I could make my entrance in a cloud of Hellfire,” Crowley muttered, tongue flicking against Aziraphale’s hair as he reached to pick up a book.

“I suspect giving the groom a heart attack would put a damper on the wedding.”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

“No, Crowley.” Aziraphale reached up to scratch the scales on Crowley’s side.

He hissed again. “Spoilsport,” he said, but he leaned into the touch all the same.

“Heh. Either way, we have plenty of time to make plans for the wedding, whereas Christmas is around the corner. Do you have anything in particular in mind, Crowley?”

“You do realize demons don’t really celebrate the birthday of your boss’ son, right?”

“Ah, I suppose that’s fair. But I wouldn’t mind a quiet evening in, perhaps bake some cake,” he said, faintly wondering whether Crowley would object to mistletoe.

“Oh. Well, then I could help with the tasting, I guess. And-- wait. There are presents, right? Do you want presents?”

A chuckle “I am rather content as is, but thank you.”

“Ah. Of course,” Crowley seemed to stammer, which was no mean feat considering he currently had a mouth whose anatomy was not meant to utter words in the first place. His head slipped lower, and ended up resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “... You wouldn’t happen to know anything about whatever Heaven’s planning, would you? Things have been… quiet.”

“Not at all. Nor you have the foggiest idea as to what Hell is on to, I’m guessing?”

“Nothing whatsoever. I think I’ll wish them luck and keep it this way.”

Aziraphale smiled, took a sip of wine, and opened his book. “My thoughts exactly,” he said.

When he tilted his head to rest his cheek on top of his head, Crowley did not protest.

***

Did you throw out another of your angels?

Not to my knowledge?

You must have. Someone just got through all layers of Hell all the way down to Satan’s lap. Sliding down a pole and singing. What the Heaven is going on up there?

Let me check with Uriel.

***

“Uriel?”

“Yes?”

“Are you aware of any angels being cast out? Beelzebub insists someone just got there, and I quote, ‘sliding down a pole’.”

“We have cast out no one. Their security must be really lax. Didn’t they have a similar problem with a poet from Florence at some point?”

“I don’t think that one came in sliding down a pole, but fair.”

***

I can confirm we cast out no one. Must be a mortal.

Wonderful, more paperwork and security checks. Thanks for checking, I guess. At least he seems to be keeping Satan distracted from anything we do.

Dare I ask how?

Don’t.

All right. Have you changed your mind about coming with me to the Christmas party?

Absolutely not. But I will meet you afterwards for carnal relations.

Are you aware that it does not count as a sin and therefore it is not the middle finger to God you think it is?

Are you saying you’re not interested?

No. Usual place?

Usual place. Don’t be late.

I wouldn’t dare, Gabriel wrote with a smile, and his finger lingered over the send button for a few moments. I love you, he almost wrote, but he did not and in the end he just sent out the message as it was. Beelzebub would have found it both saccharine-inducing and redundant, and for good reason. There was no need to spell it out, really.

They were both very much aware of it.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for usual celebrations?”

“Rather certain, yes. My former colleagues on Earth invited me to join them so long ago, it would be rude for me to cancel on them.”

“Yeshua might actually show up this year.”

“Ah, I am doubtful. He never did attend his birthday party, did he now?”

That was true, although not something any of them had really felt entitled to comment on. Sandalphon knew that Gabriel had taken it… not quite as a slight, but close enough. After all, the celebration was about a birth whose annunciation he was most widely known for.

Now, on the other hand, he seemed too taken with the idea of celebrating it on Earth to be bothered in the slightest. “... I suppose he didn’t,” Uriel conceded. Gabriel closed the drawer with the last of his work for the calendar year, straightened his tie, and smiled.

“Why don’t you come with me? You could use getting to know more humans, too.”

Both Michael and Sandalphon blinked. Uriel raised an eyebrow. “To celebrate Yeshua’s birthday on Earth with them?”

“Why not? I am sure they won’t mind if I bring some friends. And you could use a break, Uriel. You’ve been working on reorganizing the lower spheres for months now.”

“You know I do not get tired,” Uriel informed him, but she was already glancing over at Michael and Sandalphon.

In the end, it was Michael to shrug. “I suppose,” she finally said, “it would be interesting to see how the celebrations have changed since last time I took a look. They were not precisely cheerful, back then.”

“... When was the last time you did check?”

“Sometimes in the mid-fourteenth century,” she replied, and Gabriel laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah,” he said, “I think you will be pleasantly surprised.”

***

“... And this is why it’s either panettone or pandoro, and anyone claiming not to take a side is coward and a liar, and--”

Fabrizio rambled on, clearly rather satisfied to have finally found an attentive listener in Sandalphon, and Gabriel chose not to interrupt him. Somewhere at the other side of the room, Łukasz was staring in absolute disbelief as Uriel drank the twenty-second shot in a row without seemingly feeling any effects, and he might just be starting to fall in love.

As he stepped towards the door and passed by a table, Gabriel chuckled. “Go easy on them,” he muttered, and Michael just raised an eyebrow at him, effortlessly beating yet another warehouse worker at an arm wrestling match. In the end, Gabriel decided that as long as the only thing getting bruised were egos, there was no reason to intervene.

He stepped outside into a cold, clear night. No comet in the sky, but he had felt a pull to come out all the same. He let his gaze wander down the street and there it was - a shadow crouched in an archway, barely illuminated by a street light and covered in blankets as he tried to keep warm. Somehow, the blinking lights of Christmas decorations on the building made the figure seem even more lonely. And that wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all - especially not that night.

“Excuse me,” Gabriel called out, approaching the man. “Would you like to come inside? It is quite cold, and my friends and I are having a party - I am sure they wouldn’t mind.”

The man looked up. He had long dark hair tied back in a ponytail to reveal dark brown eyes, and his features were just barely illuminated by the street light - but it was enough for Gabriel to trail off, taken off guard. The man smiled.

“Thank you for your offer, Gabriel. I think I’ll take you up on this one.”

Ah. Well. It made sense, come to think of it. He’d always been original like that. Past the initial surprise, Gabriel straightened himself and smiled. “Any particular name I ought to call you by tonight?”

“In this time and age, Joshua will do. It's nice to see you guys paying more attention to humanity. I look back fondly on my first lifetime among them. Most of it at any rate,” Yeshua added, and stood. He straightened his back with a groan. “Ow, my spine.”

Gabriel was unable to hold back a chuckle. “Is this how you’ve been spending your birthday for the past two-something thousand years?” he asked. Until not too long ago, he would have been offended by the notion. Now he felt rather foolish for not having thought of it.

“More or less. No offense, but I enjoy Earth. Corporate events were never quite my thing.”

“None taken. I hope your mother is well?”

“The one who cast you out of Heaven, or the one who hit you in the head with a clay vase?”

“... The latter.”

“Ah, yes. She is very well. Still rather sorry about the incident, but maintains you should have knocked if you didn’t want a vase to your head.”

“That’s… understandable. But we have amended records to omit that part, so no harm done.”

“I am aware. So, is there anything I may do to thank you for your hospitality tonight?”

“... Do you still do the thing with the water and wine? Because I believe we’re running low.”

A laugh. “Ah, yes,” he said, slapping a hand on his shoulder as they headed back inside. “I think that can be arranged.”

***

Somewhere, Crowley is losing his entire MIND over the fact this guy got to use a pole on his way in.

#good omens #ineffable beurocracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #aziraphale #crowley #winging it

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years

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Sherlock x Reader: Comfort

Author’s Note(s): I struggle publishing Sherlock fics because as a Christian I personally disagree with his statements about God on the show. However, I otherwise enjoy the show and enjoy writing fics with his character. Enjoy! I hope you likez!

Warnings: Though this fic does not go into detail, it mentions an attack that almost takes place. It does not actually happen though.

On that note, I feel the need to state that in no way do I wish to romanticize or glorify any sort of harassment or assault (sexual or otherwise). If you are ever in a risky situation and aren’t sure, just get out or get help. We may not have a Sherlock to look after us, but there are others around us who can help! Be safe, readers, and make good choices.

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“Seems like a nice fellow,” John admired aloud. “And _______ gets along with him. You think they might date, Sherlock?” He was speaking about an old acquaintance of yours from high school that had come into town for a few days.

The consulting detective refused to verbally acknowledge the proposition. His blue eyes merely darted to his comrade for a moment while he busied himself by stuffing away folders from the latest solved case.

“Sherlock?” John tried again, pausing to look at him.

Finally, Sherlock could avoid it no longer. A loud sigh escaped his lips to show his irritation about the matter.

You were a friend of John’s who had come to stay at 221B Baker Street for a short while. However, a short while became a long while since things had not sorted itself out at home. At first, to him, you were just an ordinary woman that tagged along on a few cases. Things began to change when in moments you were alone together, you would ask him questions. Sometimes he’d rattle off quick answers, and other times, you’d have him stumped. You also saw things in Sherlock that he himself refused to see. For one, you did not believe that he was a sociopath. There was evidence pointing to emotions that he tried to bury to maintain the appearance of someone cold and logical.

You brought things to light that Sherlock had never even thought of. While you may not have the gift of deduction as he did, you were intelligent in other ways that Sherlock himself was lacking, and he was impressed. This comradery became friendship, and eventually that grew into something else....

“Yes,” Sherlock responded to John’s inquiry. “I suppose he seems ‘nice’ on the surface.”

John’s brows furrowed in confusion. He shifted his stance. “What does that mean?”

Sherlock turned around. “It means, he isn’t all that he appears. Behind that ‘cute face’ ________ said he has, he’s hiding something.”

John tried to hide a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Sherlock shot him a look. “Me? Jealous of him? No, no. When I met him, he showed signs of lying twice about what he’s in town these past few days. Twice, John. He wouldn’t lie about something so ordinary unless he was hiding something.”

“Maybe he was nervous,” John reasoned. “We are two males very close to __________, after all. And you’re sort of famous now.”

“It still doesn’t add up. I saw other signs that he is up to no good.”

“Well, why haven’t you said anything? You’ve done it in the past with Molly Hooper.”

“That was different.”

“How so? If this man has any intention of hurting ___________emotionally or otherwise, wouldn’t it be better to let her know? Maybe in a nice way?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, irritated at all the questions. He did not like having to explain himself to those who couldn’t follow- especially on a topic so private. “Nevermind it, John. Just let it be.”

John grew quiet as he thought it over. He shifted his weight once more and cleared his throat as he dared to voice his conclusion. “You don’t want her to be hurt by it, do you?”

Sherlock did not fire back with a quip as he normally would, confirming John’s theory. Nonetheless, the consulting detective attempted to deny it as he picked up his violin. “I’d just like to avoid complications and interferences with my next case,” he countered. “That’s all.”

“What next case?”

Sherlock did not respond this time. He merely started playing the violin. John took it as a sign he should stop inquiring about it.

He sighed. “Well, I can’t stand by and watch _________ get hurt. If you won’t tell her, I’ll have to.”

“No,” Sherlock blurted. In a softer tone, he added, “I’ll do it.”

John held his hands up in resignation. “Alright. Fine, but at least be nice about it.”

“Any more demands? I’m a consulting detective. This coddling behavior doesn’t suit me.”

“It’s not coddling. It’s helping someone you care about. And on a side note, it does suit you. At least, ________ seems to think so.”

Sherlock continued playing his violin without another word on the matter, and John shrugged as he left the room. You would be back from your afternoon out quite soon.

- - - -

The front door downstairs flew open and slammed shut, causing John to look up from his laptop where he was typing up his latest blog. Sherlock paused his violin playing. There was a muffled, high-pitched voice that sounded like a female in distress. John felt his heart sink at the realization it was you. Another high-pitched voice responded, a little quieter, and he knew it was Mrs. Hudson consoling you.

“Oh, it’s too late,” John whispered to himself, setting the paper aside and resting his face in his hands. “That guy...What a jerk.”

Sherlock set his violin down as a pair of footsteps hurried up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson poked her head in, eyes tearing up.

“Oh, Sherlock, John, it’s terrible!” she cried. “That dreadful man ________ went to town with...He tried to go after her! She’s all upset, the poor thing!”

John looked at Sherlock with wide eyes before bolting for the stairs, giving Mrs. Hudson a comforting pat on the shoulder as he passed. Sherlock followed quickly with Mrs. Hudson in tow.

- - -

You sat at Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen table, one hand in your hair and another covering your mouth as you cried. The footsteps racing down the stairs filled you with both dread and relief. While you were glad to be safe, the whole situation was rather embarrassing to you in a way.

John was the first one at your side. “Are you alright?” he asked, checking you for any immediate wounds. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you nodded. “Really, I am. I feel like I should’ve known. I knew he was a bit of a player. That’s why I never intended to date him or anything... Even so, I didn’t like him that way anyway. I thought we were just hanging out as friends.”

“Oh, no,” John eased you into a hug, ensuring the contact was welcome. “You couldn’t have known. We didn’t. We just thought he was a player too.”

“How’d you know he was a player?” you sniffled. Then you looked at Sherlock. “Oh, right. Deductions.”

“We were going to warn you about him when you came back,” John continued. “Sherlock deduced that he was lying about what he was doing in town, but we had no idea this was going to happen.”

“We were just walking in the park” you said, “catching up on what our lives have been like since high school. We didn’t even really know each other well back then either. He even told me about a woman he’s been seeing. I thought everything was fine- that we were just friends hanging out- but then, he just changed. He started saying things that creeped me out, and it- I just ran away without thinking. I just feel so stupid...”

“You’re not stupid,” Sherlock stated, causing you to look up at him. “He is the one lacking in brains if he thinks he can do this to you and get away with it.” Sherlock turned and headed for the door.

“Um, Sherlock?” John called after him, but he had already disappeared out the door. “Oh boy…”

“What’s he doing?” you stood up from your chair nervously. “I don’t want any more trouble from that guy. I just want him to leave me alone.”

“Trust me,” John sighed, giving you a side-hug. “When Sherlock’s done with him, he’ll leave you alone.”

“Come now,” Mrs. Hudson came forward and took your hand. “Let’s get you upstairs. You can get in comfortable clothes, and I’ll make you a cuppa. How does that sound?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agreed. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry for barging in all upset like that.”

She rested her other hand over yours. “I’ll have none of that! Honestly, dear, you have nothing to apologize for.” She and John went upstairs with you and let you get settled. John kept glancing out the window, wondering if Sherlock would do something so drastic that the police would show up. Mrs. Hudson made your tea and stayed for a few to be sure you were alright.

It wasn’t long before the three of you heard the front door swing open. You were relieved to hear one set of familiar footsteps coming up the stairs. Sherlock waltzed into the room, pausing by the window.

“There. He’ll never come near you again.”

You looked to John for some sort of explanation, but he merely shrugged. Then, Sherlock picked up his violin and began playing a soft, soothing tune. You curled up on your chair with a cup of tea and breathed a sigh.

- - - -

You awoke in a dark room, and the dream was still so fresh in your mind. You had seen your old “friend” again in the park just as it had been earlier that day, and he had tried to move closer to you. Though you were safe in the living room on your chair, the memories of the nightmare overwhelmed you. Tears spilled down your cheeks.

Someone was in front of you, and his familiar scent made you feel instantly relieved. He reached to turn the nearby lamp on its dimmest setting. “It’s alright, I’m here,” he spoke in a low, gentle voice. His hand rested on your cheek. “You’re at Baker Street.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Sorry about this,” you whispered. “Nevermind me, it was just a dream.”

“You don’t have to be strong right now. It’s just me. John and Mrs. Hudson have both gone off to their rooms.” Sherlock ran his other hand up and down your arm.

You didn’t need any extra convincing. You had held back earlier, not wanting to upset anyone more than they were by acting upset. But Sherlock saw through it all. Even more than that, he wanted to be the one who you opened up to. So, you just leaned forward to pull him into an embrace, and you cried. And cried. And cried some more.

Finally, you felt like you got it out of your system. Sherlock pulled away to grab a tissue and hand it to you.

“All done?” he asked, the slightest hint of a smile tugging his lips.

“Yeah,” you sniffled. “I think I am. Thank you.” You blew your nose into the tissue and tossed it in the trash. “So, do I even want to know what you did to him?”

Sherlock took a seat in the chair opposite to yours and folded his hands. “Nothing major. Gave him a broken nose. Warned him to never set foot anywhere near you again.”

“Oh, wow. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But it was rather fun.”

You managed to laugh despite your teary eyes, and while he didn’t show it, Sherlock was glad to see it. Wanting to see you laugh again, he continued, “What? It was fun indeed.”

“Well, I guess I’m glad you got a kick out of it. It would’ve been funny to see the look on his face myself.”

“We can find him tomorrow, and I can demonstrate once more for you to observe. How does that sound?”

You laughed. “No, thank you. I’ll take your word for it.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. Sherlock was being rather agreeable. You knew he could be at times when he wasn’t trying too hard to conceal his emotions, but you still weren’t used to him being so openly charming. But then, you were starting to get drowsy again.

Sherlock, noticing your suddenly heavy eyelids, stood up. “Here, let’s get you to bed.”

“Oh, okay,” you yawned. He took your hand, picked up the blanket draped over you, and escorted you to your room. Once you were settled under the covers, he did something unexpected- he gave you a small kiss on the forehead. “What was that for?” you asked with a smile.

“You just...sort of look...adorable,” he spoke the words as if they were some foreign language he didn’t understand. Before you could respond, he left the room. You were baffled by the interaction, and also feeling quite warm inside. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him in a romantic way…

As puzzling as the exchange was, you were too tired to stay awake and dwell on it. Tomorrow would be another day.

#sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock x reader #reader insert #sherlock imagine #reader x sherlock #john watson #mrs. hudson

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samiha-kabir · 3 years

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99 names of allah

99 Names of Allah -Part 4 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

Assalamu Alaikum,

So, In the Previous Post We covered” Seeking Dua with Asma ul Husna till Ism “Al-Muhyi (The Maintainer of life) ” Which was number 60 . So Here is the Fourth Part of the Series where we will cover few more names,In Sha Allah.

Check Previous Post in this Series –

99 Names of Allah -Part 3 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

99 Names of Allah -Part 2 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

99 Names of Allah -Part 1 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

Part 4 – 99 Names of Allah

61 :Al-Mumeet – “The Inflictor of Death “

Ya Allah ! We Know that Only you are the Creator of Death, The Destroyer, The One who renders the living dead .

O Allah ! Do not let us die until you are Pleased with Us .

O Allah ! Make us Die Only as a Muslim

O Allah ! Give us the strength to read Sahadah at our death bed.

62 : Al-Hayy – ” The Eternally Living One”

O Allah ! We Know that you are The Ever-Living

O Allah, Al-Hayy, we know that You are the One who is everlasting and perfect alive.

O Allah ! Bless us with reliance on You, make us realize Your Perfection of Life and so of all Your attributes and guide us to live by them.

O Allah ! Inspire us to turn to You only and grant to us eternal life in the Gardens of Jannatul Firdaws, ameen!

63 : Al-Qayyoom – The Self-Subsisting One

O Allah ! We Know that you are the One who remains and does not end.

O Allah ! Al-Qayyoom, we know that You are the One who is self-existing and sustaining all. Bless us with humility in our worship and dealing with others and make us of those who help the needy and strive in the cause of Islam.

O Allah ! Enable us to practice qiyaam ul layl, often make us remember standing before You and give us a longing to meet You and actions that bring us closer to You, ameen!

64 : Al-Wajid -The Pointing One

O Allah, You are The Perceiver, The Finder,

O Allah, You are Al Wajid. You are Rich

O Allah ! You are the Perciever

O Allah ! Help Us

65 : Al-Majid -The Glorious One

O Allah, Al-Maajid ,All glory belongs to you .

O Allah, Al-Majeed, Help us in understanding and acting upon Your glorious Book and make us of the dhaakireen, those who remember You continuously with a beautiful glory and praise.

O Allah ! Make us respectful to others, keep granting us honor through Islam and bestow upon us the honour of gazing upon Your Countenance in Paradise, ameen!

66 : Al-Wahid -The Unique

O Allah, Al-Waahid we know that You are the One and Only.

O Allah ! Grant us correct and unshakable belief in Your Oneness, allow us to truly understand and appreciate this Beautiful Name, act upon it and spread the message of Your Oneness to others.

O Allah ! Make us reflect your Creation and protect and forgive us from all types of shirk, ameen!

67 : Al-Ahad -The Sole One

O Allah, Al-Ahad we know that You are the One and Only.

O Allah, Al-Ahad we know that You are the Only.

O Allah ! Bless us with pure intentions and help us to do those deeds most pleasing to You.

O Allah ! Guide us to understand, live, and die by the shahada so the fire cannot touch us, and we will enter Your everlasting gardens, ameen!

68 : As-Samad- The Supreme Provider

O Allah, As Samad we know that only you are the Provider

O Allah ! you are The Eternal, The Independent .

O Allah ! you are The Master who is relied upon in matters and reverted to in ones needs.

O Allah ! Provide us with halal Income and let us live a righteous life.

69 : Al-Qaadir – The Able One

O Allah, Al-Qadir we know that you are Omnipotent.

O Allah, Al-Qaadir we know that Your power is perfect.

O Allah ! Adorn us with patience and contentment with your decree and help us inspire others to do so.

O Allah ! Help us to turn to You and to consult You in big and small matters, and enable us to seek Your forgiveness in abundance. Ameen!

70 : Al-Muqtadir – The Powerful One

O Allah, Al-Muqtadir we know that Your power enforces all decrees.

O Allah ! Guide us to practise our belief in your All-ability and capability, make us grateful for all aspects of your decree for us.

O Allah ! save us from arrogance and adorn us with tranquil hearts who remember you abundantly, ameen!

71 : Al-Muqaddim – The Expediting One

O Allah, Al-Muqaddim we know that you are the Promoter

O Allah ! you are the Expediter, The Promoter .

O Allah ! you are the One who puts things in their right places.

O Allah you make ahead what you wills and delays what you wills.

72 : Al-Mu’akhkhir – The Procrastinator

O Allah, Al-Muakhir , we know that you are the Delayer

O Allah ! you are the Delayer, the Retarder .

O Allah ! you are the One who puts things in their right places.

O Allah you make ahead what you wills and delays what you wills.

73 : Al-Awwal – The Very First

O Allah, Al-Awwal we know that You are the One without beginning nor end.

O Allah ! Guide us to put You and seeking Your pleasure first and foremost in our belief and our deeds.

O Allah ! Help us to give priority to our prayers, adorn us with love and closeness to Your Book and make us of the saabiqoon, ameen!

74 : Al-Akhir – The Infinite Last One

O Allah, Al-Aakhir we know that You are the last One who will remain when everything perishes.

O Allah ! Bless us with love and eagerness to meet You and make us remind ourselves that we will stand before You so we can strive to do good.

O Allah ! Enable us to do deeds whose rewards will continue, counting for us after our death, and give us a good ending, ameen!

75 : Az-Zaahir – The Perceptible

O Allah, Az-Zhaahir we know that You are the Manifest and High.

O Allah ! Make both our inward and outward good, guide us in reflecting on Your signs around us in a productive way.

O Allah ! Bless us with sincerity and make us of those who are able to gaze at Your Countenance in the Hereafter, ameen

76 : Al-Baatin – The Imperceptible

O Allah, we know that You are Al-Baatin – The Imperceptible

O Allah ,You are The Hidden .

O Allah ! You are the One that nothing is above you and nothing is underneath you , hence you exists without a place.

O Allah ! You are The Exalted .

O Allah ! Your Existence is obvious by proofs and you are clear from the delusions of attributes of bodies.

77 : Al-Waali -The Holder of Supreme Authority

O Allah, we know that You are the Holder of Supreme Authority

O Allah, Al-Waliy, we know that You are the most loving Guardian.

O Allah ! Make us of your awliyaa and guide us to complement our obligatory acts of worship with abundant voluntary deeds.

O Allah ! Bless us with righteous friends, make us pious friends to other believers and assist us in turning to You only as our best Ally at all times, ameen!

78: Al-Muta’ali – The Extremely Exalted One

O Allah, we know that You are the Extremely Exalted One

O Allah, Al-Muta’aali, we know that You are the Supreme.

O Allah ! Give us knowledge of and lead us to prioritize the deeds most pleasing to You and assist us in calling others to You.

O Allah ! Adorn us with firm belief in your Highness and admit us to the Highest Paradise without Reckoning, ameen!

79: Al-Barr – The Fountain-Head of Truth

O Allah, Al-Barr, we know that You are the source of all that is good.

O Allah ! Adorn us with the characteristics of the abraar (righteous ones), guide us in good conduct in each company we are in, and make our righteousness a way to lead us to Your Paradise, ameen!

80 : At-Tawwaab – The Ever-Acceptor of Repentance

O Allah, Al-Barr, we know that You are the source of all that is good.

O Allah ,You are the most forgiving,the most Merciful

O Allah ! you are the One who grants repentance to whoever you will among your creatures .

Ya Allah ! you accept repentance . So Accept my Repentance and cleanse my heart .

Ameen !

If You are following our Blog , Do not miss the next post in which we will cover some more Names of Allah swt ,In Sha Allah . If You have not yet subscribed, Do subscribe. Jazak Allahu Khair .

Get all the duas from the series in a pdf form

This post was last modified on May 3, 2021 2:06 am

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asma ul husna

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Shafeeka Samsodien

May 22, 2018 at 10:30 am

Aslm! I don’t see a link to series 5 of the 99names of Allah. It only goes to series 4 which is until no.80

More from Megan

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#language #linguistics #lingjobs #linguistics jobs #linguist jobs #careers #job #work #employment #graduating

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chilligyu · 5 years

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info: jeon wonwoo/reader, general audiences, record shop au genre: fluff, romance, glimpses of drama | word ct: 9k warnings: none summary: to most, jeon wonwoo was the surly owner of a hole in the wall record shop. to her, he was a simple mistake she kept making time and time again. notes: reposted from my old blog, @dimp1ejeon

cross posted on ao3

Her first mistake started with a record shop.

(It of course wasn’t her first mistake, but for the sake of this story let’s pretend that it was.)

It began in a record shop, an actual record shop. Something she honestly didn’t believe existed anymore. But as her new music obsessed boyfriend was happy to point out, they did, in fact, exist, and it would be good for her to get acquainted with vinyl. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to take that, but he was hot, the most popular guy on campus, so she would gladly “get acquainted with vinyl” for him. Didn’t mean she completely understood what that meant.

She barely understood what that meant.

Once she found a record shop, she was sure to muster all of her fleeting attention to soak up everything she could. She wandered the aisles with pristine precision, analysing every single cover, every genre, every artist, for some secret she was sure lied within. She wanted to be as knowledgeable as her amazing boyfriend, she wanted to be cultured and wise. Of course, that was easier said than done, and she still had no idea what she was doing after an hour of pretending like she did. She honestly couldn’t tell one record from the other and she was too embarrassed to admit defeat.

“Can I help you find something?”

She looked up and found herself face to face with a chipper looking sales clerk, his name tag read Mingyu. His face read how can I help you on this fine day?

“Yes!” She beamed in relief. “I’m looking for a record for my boyfriend, he wanted me to find something he had never heard of before. Which will be hard because he’s basically listened to every song on the planet.”

While she laughed and he laughed along politely, she hoped that he wouldn’t see right through her.

“What kind of music is he interested in?”

“Oh all sorts.” She clarified and yet didn’t clarify at all. “I really have no idea what to get him, if I’m personally honest. He likes some crazy bands like—Moldy Peaches? I think?”

Mingyu nodded and hummed as if she had provided him with everything he had ever needed. “Looks like you need a personal recommendation from the Wizard. Follow me.”

I need a what from the who?

Despite her evident confusion and general reluctance, she followed after Mingyu with moderate scepticism. They weaved their way through the aisles while he offered quiet statements such as “I’ll be right with you” and “can you man the front” to customers and employees they passed. She had no idea where he was taking her, but they were heading deeper and deeper into a store she wasn’t quite sure was even big enough to be that big. For a moment she wondered if he was guiding her to her doom.

In a way, he was.

As they rounded a corner, they finally found some semblance of life in the form of some dreary looking fellow hunched over his computer, narrowing his eyes at it in either concentration or frustration. All around him were stacks of papers, records, books, and everything else you could imagine to stack. Looking closely, she noticed that his name tag said Woo and for some reason all she could hear was someone saying Woohoo very unenthusiastically in the back of her mind.

“Wonwoo, you busy?”

Woo/Woohoo/Wonwoo didn’t even look up as he shrugged. “Kinda, what’s up?”

“We need to consult the Wizard.” Mingyu said like it was the most normal thing ever. “Music recommendation for a musically inclined boyfriend who’s into indie.”

Without missing a beat, and without looking up still, Wonwoo pulled a record out from one of his stacks and handed it over to Mingyu. “Here.”

“Thanks man, I owe you.” Mingyu returned and turned to her with a smile. “Think this will do?”

She was too busy trying to understand the odd situation with the “Wizard” to really offer an intelligent response. “Yea—yes. This looks perfect, thank you.”

Mingyu beamed with pride. “Don’t thank me, thank the Wizard. He does all the hard work around here anyway.”

While she halfway expected Woo/Woohoo/Wonwoo/Wizard to return with some sort of witty retort, he simply shrugged. But she could see a different response swimming in his ebony eyes. As if he was afraid to speak his mind in front of her. Interesting.

“Thank you, Woohoo—Wonwoo.” She stammered, cursing the little voice in the back of her head. “Thank you Wonwoo.”

The response he offered was little more than a nod of the head. She almost missed him sneak a glance, it was so quick she wasn’t entirely sure it had even happened.

“Alright, we won’t keep you.” Mingyu interrupted when there really wasn’t anything to interrupt. “Thanks again, hyung.”

She wasn’t quite sure what just happened.

As quickly as she had been guided into the secret nethers of Meanie’s Record Shop she was promptly escorted back out. Looking back over her shoulder she could’ve sworn she heard the surly Wonwoo say, “don’t forget about my 10% consultation fee,” with a ghost of a smile. It was perhaps the warmest smile she had ever seen.

Now she knew that she was imagining things.

Long after she paid for her record, said goodbye to the overly chipper and undeniably handsome Mingyu, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to thoughts of the elusive Wonwoo.

Her boyfriend thought his existence was hilarious, a record shop Wizard, and they spent quite a long time laughing about it. She didn’t necessarily find it funny, she found it intriguing. But she had a hard time disagreeing with her boyfriend so she laughed along with him.

When he asked her to go get another record for him, Meanie’s was her first (and only) choice. The way he asked her though made her think that he doubted the validity of Wonwoo’s capabilities and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Still, she did as he asked. She found her way back into the little hole in the wall and smiled happily when she saw Mingyu standing behind the counter.

This was her second mistake.

“Welcome back!” He exclaimed, perky as ever. “Did your boyfriend approve of the Wizard’s decision?”

“He did!” She returned. “He liked it so much in fact that he wanted me to come back and see if the Wizard would be right twice.”

Mingyu chuckled underneath his breath. “In all fairness to your skeptical boyfriend, Wonwoo is never wrong. He always knows what you need.”

“And that’s why you call him Wizard?” She halfway teased.

“That’s why we call him Wizard.” He agreed, motioning for her to follow. “Let’s step into his office and see what he has for you today.”

Then they embarked on the same journey for the second time. She could’ve sworn that her heart rate picked up a little in anticipation, but she was probably imagining it. She had the same feeling the first time she was lead back into Wonwoo land so it was most likely the underlying anxiety and nothing more. Still, she did her best to ignore it and was failing miserably.

When she spotted Wonwoo amongst the clutter it looked like he hadn’t moved since the last time she was there. He might’ve even been wearing the same outfit but of that she couldn’t be certain. The only difference she noticed immediately was that his many stacks of many things gained in stacitude. She tried not to be too overtly amused, Wonwoo seemed to notice anyway. She could’ve sworn that he almost smiled.

Almost.

“Hey Woo.” Mingyu greeted with a curt wave. “We have a repeat customer, remember uppity musically inclined boyfriend who’s into indie? His girlfriend is back for round two.”

“Hey!” She protested behind him. “We never said uppity!”

“You didn’t, I did.” Mingyu winked playfully. “So, you got the goods my goodly good man?”

Wonwoo, on the other hand, already had a record ready for her. “Is that all?”

Taking the album in hand, Mingyu bowed slightly in respect, or awe. “Yes, thank you Grand Master Wonwoo. Your services are without equal.”

“So he’s the Grand Master now?” She chimed in. “How many nicknames does he have?”

“Plenty.” Wonwoo clarified, much to her surprise. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m pretty busy.”

Nodding in understanding, she turned to leave when she thought she heard him swear under his breath. She couldn’t resist, she peered around to look at his computer screen. He was playing Fortnite.

Mingyu burst out laughing. “Oh she’s done it now. You’ve been busted, the whole dark brooding aesthetic has been shattered.”

Wonwoo honestly didn’t look fazed in the slightest. “I don’t have a dark brooding aesthetic.”

“That, my friend,” Mingyu began to her, “is what we call oblivion. Hyung,” turning back to Wonwoo, “you have no self awareness.”

He shrugged in response. “That’s fine. I’m still busy being dark and brooding while playing Fortnite.”

Oh. She halfway gasped when she spotted a coy grin twitching at his lips. He’s trying to be funny. He’s actually really funny.

She couldn’t help it, she started to laugh. There was just something about Wonwoo sitting there surrounded by eclectic treasures with his typical emotionless expression and being sassy to his friend that made her giggle out of control. She was sure that they were probably giving her the oddest look but she didn’t care, she had never met anyone quite like Wonwoo and she was sure that he was a one in a billion type of guy.

Regardless, he was chuckling along with her. It was an interesting sound, or it was interesting how that sound made her feel. His laugh was very light, despite his deep voice, and it lifted her spirits considerably. It made her feel--comfortable, almost as if his laughter was some unknown cure from some even more unknown ailment that ailed her. While hearing it she was suddenly overcome with this strange realization that she couldn’t recall ever feeling anything quite like it. She would’ve loved to hear more of Wonwoo’s laugh. She wanted to feel the things that his laugh made her feel.

“This is starting to get weird. Wonwoo smiling, laughing, it’s unnatural.” Mingyu muttered, amusement clear on his face. “Let’s get you out of here before it’s too late.”

Nodding and trying to compose herself, she waved goodbye to the Wizard. “He’s right, I should get going. Thanks again for the personal recommendation. It was nice seeing you, Wonwoo.”

That seemed to catch him off guard but a hesitant smile creased his lips. “You too, have a good one.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

She decided to ignore the strange sensation and instead followed Mingyu back out to the front where she would pay for her record just as before and most likely never see either of them ever again. The thought didn’t make her sad, per se, but it didn’t make her happy either. Not in the slightest. Surely her boyfriend was capable of going to the record shop on his own time but she had enjoyed her trips to Meanie’s up until that point and hoped they could continue. She wanted nothing more than to sit there and chat away with the two young men she had such a fun time with, even in the smallest of doses.

I could always keep Meanie’s a secret. She mused to herself as she sat next to her boyfriend while they—well, he—watched a documentary on the Rolling Stones. I don’t see why I can’t keep making trips for him. It’s not that big of a deal.

That small decision was her third mistake.

In the following weeks she made a couple of trips to Meanie’s for her boyfriend, but she also made a couple completely unprompted. Just to stop by to see how Mingyu and Wonwoo were doing. She never stayed long, only a minute or two each time. A quick hello, a stray smirk, a flutter of a feeling that she couldn’t name, and a hesitant goodbye moments later. She enjoyed her time there, she enjoyed learning more about music from people who didn’t belittle her.

Not that her boyfriend belittled her, not exactly. Sometimes she just felt that he thought he was better than her for his extensive knowledge of obscure bands and her lack thereof. Of course it wasn’t intentional, he cared about her and she cared about him. He would apologize if she brought it up, and she’d forgive him each time. She’d smile, kiss him gently, and all would be forgiven but not necessarily forgotten.

On a cloudy Wednesday after a lunch date with her boyfriend, she found herself almost unconsciously heading towards Meanie’s. She was intellectually exhausted after learning about the shift from classic rock to modern rock and how music was dying--according to her boyfriend, and she needed a break from that. She needed to just forget about all of the things she had to remember since she agreed to go out with her music obsessed boyfriend. All of the facts and all of the history, it was too much for her to process some days. Most days.

Walking into Meanie’s she was shocked to see Soonyoung behind the counter instead of Mingyu. It was silly of her to think that he would always be there no matter what, he was a living breathing human with a living breathing life. Still, she walked right up to him with confusion evidently evident on her face.

“He’s out for lunch.” Soonyoung clarified immediately. “He should be back in the next 20 minutes or so if you want to wait.”

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I’m just going to go back and say hi to Wonwoo then I’ll be gone.”

With a polite wave she said goodbye to Soonyoung and headed back towards her favorite place in the whole store. Alone. A nagging sensation at the back of her mind.

Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

Maybe I should.

Which was her fourth mistake.

“Hey.” She greeted sheepishly when she turned the corner and saw him sitting there as always. “Busy?”

Looking up from his computer, Wonwoo almost smiled. “No, not really. Need another recommendation for the boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “Not today, just wanted to stop in to see how you and Mingyu were doing. But he’s not here so I guess I’m just here to see you!”

Wonwoo’s eyes lit up. “Oh—well, thanks for visiting. Mingyu’s going to be sad that he missed you.”

“Make sure you tell him I said hello.” She continued, uneasiness rising inside of her.

“Will do.”

There was a brief silence when neither really knew what else to say, up until that point they always had Mingyu to smooth over any awkward tension that might exist. Without him, they didn’t know how to proceed or how to act. As they stood there and the silence persisted, she couldn’t help but wonder if stopping by was such a good idea after all.

She had to say something before her face started to show the embarrassment she felt.

“What’re you listening to?” She suddenly blurted out when she spotted the lone earbud in his ear.

A look of confusion crossed his face before he remembered that he was, in fact, listening to music. “Oh, umm… it’s—" he began as he started clicking away with his mouse. “Hollow Caves, heard of them?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She admitted honestly, something she would be afraid to do if her boyfriend had asked. “Mind if I have a listen?”

“S-sure!” Wonwoo sorta stuttered, unplugging his headphones so she could hear. “If you don’t like it we can always listen to something else.”

She wasn’t sure why that polite sentence made her heart race. She always felt like she was on her toes around Wonwoo, like she was afraid of offending him or something. Perhaps some part of her expected all musically inclined people to behave similarly, because she was afraid to disagree with her boyfriend. His music taste was superior to hers and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Out loud. Constantly.

Wonwoo was different.

She liked different.

For the first time since they met (for the sake of story), Wonwoo got up from his seat at his computer and crossed the crowded space to a couch she had never noticed before. Not that most would notice it buried underneath the mounds and mounds of boxes and discarded record sleeves. As he started to clear it off she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“You don’t need to do that!” She protested a bit louder than she intended. “I mean—I’m fine, you don’t need to clear it off for me.”

Despite her objections, he didn’t stop. “I’ve been meaning to organize this place a little anyway, besides, there’s literally nowhere else to sit.”

He was right, the only other thing she could see that even resembled furniture was the chair behind his desk and now she realized that it was just a pile of boxes. Somehow that added to his charm. Whatever charm he possessed. He wasn’t bothered by the little things and he made the best of what he had. She kind of liked that, she liked that he didn’t make a big deal out of it either. It was—refreshing.

“There.” He huffed when he was finished, hands on his hips. “Good as new.”

She wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not since the couch still looked like it had been salvaged from a collapsed building. She decided that he wasn’t and that somehow made the whole situation that much funnier.

“Thank you but you really didn’t have to.” She persisted. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” He countered, a ghost of a smile twitching at his lips. “I wanted to do it.”

Again, her heartbeat started pounding in her ears. She was beginning to wonder what was wrong with her.

“Of course you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.” Wonwoo sputtered suddenly. “I’m sure you’re busy and have better things to do than keep me company in this poor excuse for an office.”

She offered him a kind smile. “I really don’t.”

(She really didn’t.)

The smile he returned was far kinder. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

Nodding, she sat down on the old tattered couch and watched Wonwoo stuff some papers into a filing cabinet that had seen better days. As had most everything else in his “office”. A word she would never have associated before he said it yet now that’s all that she could see. From the business reports strewn across the floor and the order invoices tacked to a wall with darts embedded in them, it was definitely an office. A horribly chaotic office, but she didn’t find a problem with that.

Once he tidied up, he plopped down on the opposite end of the couch. He had two waters in hand, one he happily offered and she happily accepted. Leaning back, she really listened to the soothing music that was slowly filling up the empty space around them. They didn’t speak to each other and she didn’t mind it. The silence between them wasn’t as nagging as before, she wasn’t looking for a way out or something to say. Silence with Wonwoo wasn’t that awful, it wasn’t even bad. She actually enjoyed it a little, in fact. Once she got used to it.

Being comfortable with the silence didn’t mean that she didn’t have things she wanted to ask him. She wanted to ask him plenty of things, like what he did at Meanie’s, how long he’d known Mingyu. Why did he always wear beanies and how did he get so involved with music? Wonwoo was a curiosity and she couldn’t help but be curious. She couldn’t help her poor impulse control either.

It was as if a verbal dam burst in her damn mouth.

While she prattled on, he chuckled at either her ridiculousness or her abruptness. Whichever it was she was blushing nevertheless, embarrassed by how rash she was behaving. That didn’t stop her motormouth from motoring on.

“I’m a manager here.” Wonwoo began once she had run out of breath. “And a co-owner with Mingyu. We’ve known each other since we were kids, I was his first pick when he acquired this place. I always wear beanies because it’s cold back here and I can’t really remember how I got into music. It just happened one day.”

She nodded along as he spoke, unaware that he had nothing more to say.

“Is that all?” He questioned with a smile. “Anything else that you’ve been dying to ask?”

“Ah—no, that’s it.” She stammered, wringing out her hands in her lap. “At least--at least for now. I’m sure I’ll think of something else because I can’t stop—"

She stopped herself before it was too late. Can’t stop thinking about you? Was I really going to say that to him? As much as it might be true I can’t just go around saying that to people, it makes me look weird!

“Can’t stop what?” Wonwoo asked innocently, completely oblivious to the raging turmoil inside of her.

Laughing nervously, she waved it off like it was nothing. “Can’t stop thinking up weird questions, obviously.”

Obviously.

Luckily for her and her friendly relationship with the two Meanie boys, Mingyu appeared from around the corner with a bewildered look on his face. It probably completely contrasted her euphoric look of pure relief.

“When Soonyoung said that Wonwoo had a visitor I thought he was lying.” He started. “Should’ve known it was you!”

“Hey, I was coming to visit both of you!” She protested, springing up from the couch and giving her unknowing savior a hug. “It’s not my fault you weren’t here, that’s your problem.”

Wonwoo cleared his voice behind them. “I’m going to get back to work now.”

Startled, she turned and saw him return to his desk where his face had morphed from the pleasant smile she loved to the emotionless deadpan she first met. The switch was drastic and a bit unsettling, she didn’t really know what to make of it or what to do. Looking back to Mingyu he obviously didn’t notice the shift like she had. He was saluting his coworker and leading her out before she could even question what just happened.

“Thanks for stopping by.” He mused as they walked. “It’s good for Wonwoo to interact with real live people every now and then.”

She pressed her lips together in thought. “I don’t know, he didn’t seem too happy about it.”

“Are you kidding?” Mingyu half asked half laughed. “You should’ve seen the look on his face, like he’d just seen the sun for the first time. He only ever looks like that when I bring him food.”

I did see the look on his face. She reminded herself. That doesn’t change the fact that it disappeared at the drop of a pin.

“Either way, don’t worry about it too much.” He tried to reassure her. “He doesn’t really know what’s good for himself anyway. That’s what he has you and I for.”

“R-right.” She agreed hesitantly, trying her best to accept his words even when her heart was screaming at her to go back.

Had she gone, it would’ve been her fifth mistake. But that mistake was saved for her next visit after getting into a disagreement with her boyfriend.

She couldn’t remember much from early that day, only that she was supposed to introduce her boyfriend to her parents that morning and he was, decidedly, nowhere to be found. He knew about the meeting, they talked about it the night before, but where was he? She had no idea. After a handful of calls and a couple dozen text messages, she made up some excuse why he couldn’t make it and apologized to her poor parents (who, mind you, had driven all the way from Busan to meet him).

Turns out he had rushed out to buy some shady band merch from some shady character under some shady bridge somewhere in shadytown. That’s why he missed probably one of the more important milestones in their relationship and she wasn’t too happy with him. But instead of talking it out with him she decided it would be a better idea to go and pay Mingyu and Wonwoo a visit, she prefered their company most days anyway.

Which was why it was her fifth mistake. And quite possibly her sixth.

When she came in it must’ve been pretty evident that she was having a rough day because Mingyu immediately leapt over the counter and approached her with open arms. She wrapped herself around him and nuzzled into his chest. She just wanted to forget about the past six hours and enjoy a little peace and quiet. Meanie’s was exactly what she needed.

“Why don’t you head on back.” He whispered to her. “I’ll be right there I just have a few things to take care of.”

Nodding, she did as she was instructed and let her feet carry her through the store as they had a dozen times before. Wonwoo said something to her when she came around the corner but didn’t seem to grasp her current situation. After a minute or two and she was just standing there without saying anything, he started to put it together.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, genuinely concerned. “Come sit down and I’ll grab you some water or something.”

It was hard to place what she was feeling, she was trying desperately not to let herself be angry or annoyed and didn’t really know where that left her. Dating her boyfriend seemed to be a lot of low expectations and hoping for the best. She remembered when he asked her out and she thought it was the best thing to ever happen to her. She was certain that it would all work out, he was a guy worth hoping for. That’s what everyone said and she wanted desperately to believe it.

Eventually she was able to shake the dark cloud hovering around her loose and slowly returned to reality. She was sitting on the couch, Wonwoo was an arms length away from her, and there was a warm cup of coffee in her hands. She did her best to smile if only to ease Wonwoo a little. He looked so concerned—she couldn’t bear it.

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” She mumbled. “But I’m okay, really. I just—needed to collect my thoughts.”

“I think you need a little more than that.” He objected. “What happened? Is there anything I can do?”

She sighed and raised the coffee to her lips. “Can you turn back time? Stop my boyfriend from standing me up? Stop him from standing my parents up? No? Then no, I don’t need anything.”

She paused for a second, realizing how she was coming across. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy. I’m just—I’m tired? I think? I had to make up excuses for him so my parents didn’t get the wrong impression and think he was this bad guy when in reality—”

“When in reality he’s actually a bad guy?” Wonwoo finished with a stern look. “I don’t care what his excuse is, no guy worth anything ever stands anyone up. Especially not his girlfriend.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He interrupted. “Don’t let him get away with this, okay? You deserve way more than that.”

Leaning back, she knew that he had a point but she couldn’t quite accept it. “I just want to move past it, put it behind us. He’s really a good guy he just--he gets sidetracked.”

Wonwoo didn’t look entirely, or even partially, convinced. “Alright, sure, he’s a good guy. Can you give this to him? Personal recommendation from me.”

Before she could question him he had a CD held out towards her. North of The Yellowhead. She didn’t even know that they had CDs and didn’t really know what to do with it.

“I know it’s not a record, my apologies for that.” Wonwoo continued. “But make sure he pays special attention to track 10.”

Track 10? She wondered. “Maria’s Last Words? Do I even want to know?”

“Let’s just say you should be a bit more like Maria.” He smirked. “Because he’s being a real Captain Tractor right now.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled past her lips. “So the answer is no, I don’t want to know. But--thank you, Wonwoo. Your strange pep talk actually helped.”

“Anytime.” He smiled triumphantly. “Oh, and this—is for you. Free of charge.”

It was another CD. Custom, slipped into a purple sleeve and a simple two words written on it. Feel Better. She looked up at him in disbelief, there was no way that he was going to know that she needed cheering up. No offense to the wizard, but he couldn’t be that good.

He toed a stray candy wrapper sheepishly. “I just wrote that on there. I had the CD for a couple of days.”

Of course. She realized. “Is this a mixtape, Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Kinda?” He admitted. “They’re just some songs I thought you’d like. You don’t seem like the record type so I was a bit out of my element.”

“You didn’t cheat with your Wizard powers?” She teased him with a smile. “I’m a bit shocked, if I’m being honest.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, she could’ve sworn he was blushing.

And her heart was pounding.

“Well, I—”

“Alright!” Mingyu suddenly shouted, barrelling into view with a large mysterious pot in his hand. “Here we have the perfect feel good food. That’s right, you guessed it, my special homemade tteokguk to wash away all worries and all troubles.”

“You just have tteokguk ready and waiting?” She laughed quietly, thankful for the distraction. “Is it the New Year and I missed it?”

Wonwoo shook his head at her skepticism. “You’d be surprised how many meltdowns people have, Mingyu’s tteokguk has saved lives. Lives I tell you.”

Laughing, she found herself relaxing even further as Wonwoo and Mingyu pulled out bowls and utensils for their meal. It didn’t last long, she wasn’t one to sit around while others worked. While she waited on the couch she felt herself grow restless. Each time she attempted to help them set up they ushered her back into her seat, they wouldn’t even let her lift a finger.

“The tteokguk is an experience.” Wonwoo tried to tell her. “You just sit back and relax, we’ve got you covered.”

Resigned to her fate, she sighed. “Do you guys do this often? You seem very prepared.”

“I’m always prepared.” He said, his eyes softening. “Don’t you know that yet?”

Her mind wandered to the burned CD lying in her lap and she smiled. Wonwoo seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly what she needed. And she wasn’t sure if that was a result of his so called Wizard powers or if he was just genuinely an observant and caring human being. Maybe they weren’t so disconnected, maybe it was a little bit of both.

She decided not to think about it. She wanted to enjoy Mingyu’s special tteokguk and forget all about her boyfriend, if only for a moment. Wonwoo’s smile helped with that, it made the emptiness she felt feel warm. It made it more bearable, and less noticeable. She could get used to that. She wanted to. She wanted to spend more time with Wonwoo, and she made sure that she did.

That was the sixth mistake. And Mingyu seemed to notice.

He didn’t bring it up right away, it was probably after a few weeks of unknowingly interrupting her and Wonwoo’s music sessions that he decided to say something. Even then she was the one who broke the ice. He was escorting her back out front, uncharacteristically quiet, hands stuffed in his pockets, and she knew something was on his mind. Mingyu was usually a big ball of unyielding energy, the silence was unnerving. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m about to explode.” She finally admitted, stopping dead in her tracks. “I can practically hear your thoughts from here and it’s starting to scare me. Whatever you have to say, please spit it out.”

Mingyu chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Definitely. What’s on your mind?”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out I’m just—I’m thinking.”

“About what?” She prompted. “It’s got to be pretty serious if you’re—”

“It’s Wonwoo.” He attempted to clarify, but it only made her panic more. “Oh God, he’s fine, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—it’s—it’s actually got to do with you too.”

“Okay?” She dragged, unsure of where their conversation was going. “Care to elaborate before you give me a second heart attack?”

He looked extremely troubled and she had no idea why. “Maybe? I—I don’t know, well, I know that I should. But I have something I want to ask you first I just—I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

“Oh my God, Mingyu.” She groaned. “Out with it already! It can’t be nearly as bad as all this waiting, trust me.”

“Alright, if you insist.” He continued reluctantly. “Are you—are you happy with your boyfriend? Like actually happy?”

Admittedly, she was slightly taken aback. “What? Of—of course! Why wouldn’t I—why are you asking me that of all things?”

“You’ve just been spending a lot of time with us lately.” He shrugged. “And by us I really mean Wonwoo.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Let me get this straight, you’re all worried about my relationship with my boyfriend because Wonwoo and I are friends now? Are you feeling okay Mingyu? You really should stop overworking yourself because you’re not making any sense.”

“So you’re telling me that there’s nothing going on between you two?” He pressed. “Nothing at all? Just friends? That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She sighed in relief. “Jesus, Mingyu. I thought this was something serious, you were starting to scare me.”

“You don’t think it’s serious?” He basically scoffed. “You spend all of your time with Wonwoo and I haven’t even heard you bring up le boyfriend in weeks. I figured I’d ask the question!”

Crossing her arms, she wasn’t amused. “While I totally appreciate your interest in my love life, I promise you that everything is fine. Wonwoo and I are friends. Just. Friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that all you had to ask?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” Mingyu finally relented. “Sorry for being nosy I’m just—keeping an eye out for Wonwoo. He—he knows that you’re just friends right?”

“Of course!” She protested perhaps a bit too loudly. “I mean—wait, has he said anything?”

He pursed his lips in thought. “Well, no, but I know my best friend. He cares about you. Just keep it kosher and make sure the boundaries are set. The last thing he needs is a broken heart.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.” She swore. “I would never.”

He nodded with a smile. “Good. Thanks for humoring my paranoia, and thanks for dropping by again. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks for always making me feel welcome.” She beamed. “Even when you’re asking me awkward questions.”

“That’s my specialty.” He laughed. “Now get out of here before you miss your bus. Again.”

“Alright, alright.” She conceded, backing out of the shop. “Goodnight, Mingyu!”

They waved goodbye with a few dramatic kisses blown into the night, but his words were stuck in her brain. She hadn’t noticed a lack of interest in her boyfriend, he was actually out of town for the time being while he trailed some indie band across Europe, and yet Mingyu had. Just because she wasn’t obsessed with him didn’t mean that she was losing interest. Even so, he was the sort that appreciated a bit of distance. Sometimes a whole continents worth. Maybe—maybe she should’ve had more of a problem with that. Maybe she should’ve asked more of him.

Maybe she should’ve wanted to be with him.

This started the first real fight she ever had with her boyfriend. While she couldn’t really remember what it was about, she could only remember feeling belittled and ignored. How he would disappear for sometimes weeks on end and come back like nothing happened, how he didn’t feel it was necessary to include her in his life. She was angry, hurt, miserable and more. She cried and screamed, he sat and said nothing. He didn’t know what she wanted, and she didn’t know either. That somehow made her angrier. So she stormed out of his apartment and headed straight for Meanie’s without even thinking to question it.

Which was just another mistake, her seventh.

When she came in after he hurt her the first time, Mingyu knew. When she came in for the second time, he knew again. Sometimes she wondered who the real Wizard at the record shop was. He could read her easier than any book and he was next to her before the door even closed with his arms around her.

“You know the drill, head on back and I’m going to go get some freshly baked bukkumi.” He informed her as he pulled on his jacket. “You get comfy, relax, forget about the douchebag, I’ll be back soon.”

Fearing that anger would be laced into her voice, she simply nodded with a forced smile. He seemed to understand, with a salute he was out the door and off to cheer her up as he often did. She sighed once she was alone, waved unenthusiastically to Soonyong and headed towards the back. Not quite sure what she wanted Meanie’s to do for her, to make her feel better or make her forget. She would’ve taken anything at that point.

But the sight of Wonwoo sitting there didn’t do either, it just made her incredibly sad. He stood abruptly, sensing her distress, and she practically ran into his arms. Burying her face into the hollow of his neck she felt herself start to cry. She didn’t want to stain his shirt, she didn’t want to trouble him like that, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away. If anything she actually tightened her grip around him. She half expected him to protest, or push her away, except he didn’t budge. He was even holding her closer still, unbothered by her tears or her desperation for—what?

What did she want?

His calming hand on her back, his heart pounding against hers, she felt a lump settle into her throat. Eventually she either ran out of tears or the energy to produce them, her eyes were red and raw and she just wanted to sit down. Wonwoo took a good look at her while she wiped at the corners of her eyes. With a sad smile he brushed her hair aside, letting his fingers dust across her cheek. He didn’t say anything, at least not aloud. His eyes said it all though, all of the things she needed to hear. Slowly she started to feel better.

He guided her to the couch without a word and she collapsed onto it. Leaning her head back she closed her eyes, wondering how things had gotten to that point, how her perfect boyfriend turned out to be anything but. She sighed, telling herself not to think about it too much. Things would get better, or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe she could just stay at Meanie’s forever and never see him again. Maybe that made her happy.

Suddenly, soft music surrounded her. The best cure she could’ve possibly asked for. She didn’t even flinch when Wonwoo occupied the spot beside her, she didn’t say anything as she relaxed against him. Didn’t protest when he wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. She let her heavy lids flutter closed as she came to one single realization.

She would rather be at Meanie’s than with her boyfriend, and she had known that for quite some time.

She would rather be in Wonwoo’s arms than anyone else’s.

Mingyu was right, she felt something more for him than she should’ve.

Which wasn’t fair to him, not when she still had someone in her life. She knew that, understood that, but denied it all the same. She would let herself be selfish for a few moments more. She would let fantasy be reality, she would pretend that she belonged in the once place she shouldn’t be. She would be happy, hopelessly happy, for just a bit longer.

And then she would finally stop making mistakes.

Her relationship didn’t end in fire, it didn’t end like something out of a coming-of-age story on Netflix or a dramatic soap on Lifetime. As easily as they became, with a smirk and a well placed comment, they were out each others lives altogether. He didn’t fight, she didn’t cry. They exchanged pleasantries and parted for good. They never belonged together in the first place, she finally understood and accepted that.

She never intended to go to Meanie’s the night she broke up with her boyfriend, she planned on heading home and sleeping off the emotional exhaustion. Of course she should’ve known that she was drawn to that dusty old record shop in ways she couldn’t name or explain. Late at night, her mind wandering to moments and memories lost, and she still found her way there. She stood outside the glass doors, some part of her wanting to turn around and save that discussion for another day. Wonwoo deserved thought, deserved time, while she knew her relationship with her boyfriend was a mistake it would’ve been a bigger mistake to rush into something new without stopping to think.

So maybe she wasn’t done making mistakes after all.

When the door dinged overhead, Wonwoo didn’t even look up and instead offered a robotic, “sorry, we’re closed. Come back tomorrow.”

“I know.” She smiled. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”

Looking up with a start, his surly expression melted at the sight of her. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize it was you. What brings you here so late at night? Don’t you have class in the morning?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t really feel like going though.”

“That’s not a good attitude to have.” He chuckled quietly. “But I won’t turn you away, I’ll take every minute I can get.”

Thump.

“Sweet talker.” She mumbled. “Can I help at all? I don’t want to keep you.”

Pursing his lips, he looked around. “I’m—actually almost done. If you don’t mind waiting, that is.”

“You’re worth waiting for.” She let slip without realizing. “I mean—you’re the reason why I stopped by so it’s only fair that I wait for you.”

“Oh—right.” He hesitated, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

What the hell was that? She chastised herself. Wasn’t the plan to give him some time before you start confessing?

She knew what the answer was, she also knew that life didn’t always go as planned.

“I broke up with my boyfriend.” She suddenly blurted out moments later. “I just—thought you should know.”

He stopped stocking shelves to look at her, eyes wide with shock. “Is that what you came down here for? To tell me that?”

She nodded.

She could see the turmoil swimming in his eyes. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. In all fairness, neither did she. That left them motionless, frozen in time while their minds tried to process the impossible and make sense of their rapidly changing hearts.

“Mingyu can take care of this in the morning.” He suddenly muttered, grabbing the keys and pulling on his jacket. “Let’s go for a ride, it’ll probably do you some good to get your mind off of it.”

“Yeah.” She agreed. “Thank you, Wonwoo.”

He offered her a hesitant smile. “No need to thank me, I’m happy to help. Always.”

Her heart was racing, her mouth was dry and her mind empty. She didn’t know what was going to happen, she didn’t know what to expect. She simply followed Wonwoo just as she always would, she would follow him anywhere because he was the one person who reminded her of home. Of sitting on an old ratty couch, content with silence and being close. Where words meant nothing and music meant everything.

Their car ride was silent apart from the hum of the radio and the rattling of the engine. She didn’t pay much attention to it, opting instead to look out the window and watch the city disappear in a blur of lights. Where they were heading, she didn’t know and didn’t ask. She trusted Wonwoo, trusted him to know what she needed. He hadn’t failed her yet and she had no reason to believe that he would. Every now and then she would steal a glance in his direction but his gaze didn’t waver. He looked out into the night, watched asphalt vanish beneath tires and watched concrete turn into trees.

They stopped at the outskirts of town, so far away from the bustling city they called home that they could even see the stars spattered across the night sky. He exited the car first and didn’t wait for her to follow. He hopped up onto the hood of his car and leaned back against the glass with an arm tucked behind his head. She followed suit shortly, not bothering to question why he left the car running. Why he let a symphony of melodies fill their unyielding silence.

She sat beside him, knees pulled into her chest. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, she had never seen Wonwoo outside of the record shop and the mere thought was exhilarating. She wanted to see more of him, she wanted to spend her every waking minute with him because he understood her. His existence in her life wasn’t fleeting or temporary, Wonwoo had someone integrated himself into her life so seamlessly and perfectly that she barely noticed when it happened. She hadn’t realized until there was no turning back.

“Did you love him?” He asked suddenly, peering at her out of the corner of his eyes.

It was a loaded question, one she considered more than once in her time with him. She could’ve sworn that she did, the first few weeks were absolutely perfect, she was happy and he was happy and happiness was all that they needed. They didn’t care that they didn’t have anything in common, that their interests constantly kept them apart, for that brief moment in her life none of that mattered. Of course, in reality, it meant more than anything.

She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I think I was, at first. I don’t know what changed. I don’t know who started it or why, but suddenly I felt like I was dating a stranger.”

“I’m sorry.” He lamented sincerely. “That couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She agreed. “I just—I’m not entirely sure I know what love is anymore. I was so certain of myself, of him, but maybe I never knew. Maybe I was in denial for so long that I created my own definition of love.”

“Well--everyone does that.” He said. “Love is never the same twice.”

She offered him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Love is—difficult.” He started. “Love is about endless possibilities, like anything can happen. Good and bad. It’s being hopelessly happy, terribly sad, horribly scared, and everything in between. Being in love isn’t perfect, it’s messy, it’s dirty, it’s sudden and chaotic, whirlwinds of feeling and moments that linger in every memory you share. Which is why I stand by the fact that love is always different.”

He paused to sit up straight.

“There’s different kinds of love too, and not a lot of people understand that. The love of being near someone, of hearing their voice, of understanding, the love of culture and intelligence. Love can be anything and that’s why it’s so powerful. I believe that love is something that you’ll never feel the same way twice. At least not forever because everyone feels those butterflies, feels like their stomach is about to leap out of their chest. But love is forever changing.

“Love is finding that one song and wanting to listen to it day after day. The idea of you being in love, wanting to see that person every day, is like that song you come back to no matter what. Each love stays with you in one way or another. It’s your whole life falling apart and not knowing which way’s up, which way’s down, but knowing where they are. And that feeling stays with you in one way or another. Whether you want it to or not.”

As she listened, soaking up everything that he said, she couldn’t help but think of the moments they spent together. How Wonwoo had been there for her through it all, how her whole world could turn upside down and she would be able to find him in her sleep. How she cherished each moment with him for a variety of different reasons, he made her feel safe, comfortable, understood and—loved. With his small gestures he made her feel like she could do anything.

So that’s what love is.

Pressing her palms into her eyes, she leaned back against his car and tried to calm down her chaotic thoughts. Whatever part of her wanted to wait, to be patient, to give Wonwoo the time and thought that he deserved had long since vanished. The only voice she could hear was the one begging her to kiss him. The selfish part of herself that she hated, the one she found herself listening to time and time again.

But it was Wonwoo who kissed her first, and therefore it wasn’t a mistake.

At first she pulled away in pure shock, his lips felt perfect against hers, almost too perfect. In that moment she wondered if she was actually dreaming, if the stars above them were nothing more than her rampant imagination and childish whims come to life. She watched his face fall in sadness, she could see the terrible thoughts rolling through his head.

None of which were true, so she indulged the selfish voice and made her last mistake.

She pulled him in close and kissed him harder and more fervently than she ever intended. Wonwoo was soft, warm, and she felt like a tornado in his arms. Her mind was reeling, fireworks dotted her vision as she fell further down the rabbit hole. Every decision she had made in the past three months brought her to this one perfect moment on an old car on a night where everything was going wrong and somehow falling into place all at the same time. When Wonwoo was the only thing she needed, the only thing she cared about.

But none of this was fair to him.

“Wait.” She clipped, scooting away from him and pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “I’m—I don’t want to rush into this, I don’t—I’m not sure—“

“Not sure of what?” He asked breathlessly. “I think I’ve been pretty clear.”

She chuckled quietly. “You have, you really have. But—I need some time to think. I don’t—I don’t want this to end up the same way again. I don’t want you to be another thing I regret.”

He nodded and she tried not to notice the hurt in his eyes. “I guess I understand, it’s all pretty fresh still, isn’t it?”

“A little bit.” She agreed, her gaze falling to his lips again. “I didn’t even plan to come to Meanie’s tonight, I was going to go home and think things over before seeing you again.”

“I can’t say I’m mad at how things turned out.” He smirked. “Still, if you want to think, you think away. Can I take you home at least?”

“Of course.” She smiled with a sigh. “Thank you, Wonwoo for being, well, for being you. And for being there.”

His eyes softened as he pulled her into a hug. “Anytime.”

There was no awkwardness between them as he drove her home. The silence was palpable but they were used to it. Silence with Wonwoo was always a comfort so there was no need to fill it with senseless ramblings. He dropped her off and waved goodbye as if nothing had ever happened between them. That’s perhaps what she liked most about him. He didn’t question her decisions, he could see where she was coming from and accepted her stance on the matter. Wonwoo was, for all intents and purposes, one of the kindest people she had ever met.

And she loved him.

Her decision came easily, she knew the moment she laid beside him that her heart belonged to him and him alone. But she needed some time to make sure that her decision wouldn’t change. Three days passed and she could only think of him and fevered kisses underneath the stars. The thought of seeing him again made her heart flutter. The longer she stayed away, the faster her pulse raced. Her body knew her answer long before she wanted to admit it, perhaps since she first met him.

I love him.

When she was sure she hailed a cab and paid the driver extra to speed all the way there. She had to see Wonwoo, had to, like the sun needed the moon. Her heart was thundering in her chest but it didn’t faze her. Nothing could stop her, she burst through the door to Meanie’s and didn’t stop to even acknowledge Mingyu or Soonyoung. She only had one thing on her mind, one purpose, and nothing was going to distract her.

Except, he wasn’t there. His desk was empty, his office eerily silent, and there was no sign of him. He was always at Meanie’s, always, she didn’t care that he was a living breathing human with a living breathing life, he was always there. There was nowhere else he could be, at least—none that she knew of. Her heart started to sink and she almost lost hope.

Almost.

She heard a rustling sound behind her and suddenly something toppled into her. A box of papers and such scattered across the ground, she followed suit, as did who/whatever knocked her over in the first place. She laid there motionless with a heavy weight on top of her and a warm breath on her face. She could feel her chest pounding, theirs was too. And a pair of black eyes she had lost herself in stared back at her.

“Hey.”

It was Wonwoo.

“Hey.” She returned with a breathless smile. “You busy?”

“For you?” He questioned. “Never.”

She pulled him down for a kiss she’d been carving for days, weeks even. He happily indulged her, smiling against her willing lips and searing her soul with every word he wanted to say to her but feared to admit. She meant to tell him the truth, to confess her true feelings so there wasn’t any room to doubt. She had learned that things didn’t always go as planned, and she was happy with the alternative they both faced.

“I love you.” He said suddenly, pulling away and pressing his forehead to hers. “And I know that the timing sucks and I really shouldn’t say it but—I can’t hold it in any longer. I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, it’s something that needs to be said. I love you. I really really love you.”

While she didn’t mean to, she laughed. “Of course I feel the same way, aren’t you supposed to be a Wizard or something? Shouldn’t you know this already?”

Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he smiled. “I’d rather hear it then guess, if I’m perfectly honest.”

“Okay.” She lamented. “I love you, Wonwoo. No more guessing.”

“No more guessing.” He agreed. “I think I can get used to that.”

“Oh this is a sight for sore eyes.”

Startled, Wonwoo rolled off of her to see Mingyu and Soonyoung standing over them. The former looked as chipper as ever, the latter seemed to be sporting a disappointed scowl.

“Alright Soonyoung, pay up.” Mingyu goaded, an open hand to his friend. “Told you they were into each other.”

“I didn’t doubt that.” He mumbled back. “I just assumed that Wonwoo wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it.”

She was blushing, so was Wonwoo.

“Well, he did.” She clarified, cheeks reddening by the second. “And I’m forever grateful for it.”

As Soonyoung regretfully stuffed several bills into Mingyu’s hand, Mingyu cast her a chastising glance. “I hope le douchebag is out of your life, otherwise I have to rescind my excitement.”

“We broke up.” She confirmed. “No need to worry about that.”

“Good!” Mingyu exclaimed. “So—where does that leave you?”

Unsure of how to answer, she simply looked at Wonwoo. For whatever reason he started laughing and she followed soon after. She didn’t know what he found funny, but what she found hilarious was that every mistake she made since she first discovered Meanie’s boiled down to one fact:

He was the best mistake she ever made.

#wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo #m:jww #g:fluff #g:romance #g:drama #tw:none #t:oneshot #w:9k #p:3rd #s:reader #r:g #chilligyu #lex writes #*record #fic:svt

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justinsdaysinthedark · 5 years

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Post #1 - Welcome

Firstly, welcome. Whether you’re family, a friend or even somebody I don’t know - welcome to what will be my journey. I’ll be honest and upfront about what’s going on and I’m not afraid to express my deepest feelings.

Will this blog be everybody’s cup of tea? Absolutely not. I’ll give you the heads up now - this will be boring. This will lead down some dark and negative paths (don’t stress, it’ll be mostly positive!). I do feel however that I need to express myself this way and explore my emotions as they clash with what is going on. Sit back, relax and come with me in what will be some light slightly heavy reading.

Where does one start with such a blog? Let me preface this by saying once all is said and done, I will never complain about anything trivial again. Ever. The past six weeks has been an emotional roller coaster - not only on myself but those close to me. I wouldn’t wish this upon anybody I know and I don’t say that lightly!

Where am I at now? Monash Hospital - Clayton. Over the past six weeks, I’ve spent 26 days in hospital across three different stints. It’s currently 22:49 on Monday 15th July and I’m about to endure what will be the most confronting couple of days I’ve experienced in my life... but let’s roll it back a few weeks and fill you in.

What’s wrong? Where and how did it all it begin? Let’s touch over a few things...

Sunday June 2nd - It all started with an immense eye pain one Sunday afternoon. I’d stayed up late into the night to watch Australia’s first Cricket World Cup clash with Afghanistan. Getting to bed at roughly 3am Sunday morning and waking up normally by 10am, I thought this particular Sunday was going to be a stock standard one. I stayed over at my partner Courtney’s house and we went to watch her nephew play football. 4pm rolled around on Sunday and I thought I was suffering from what I thought was a simple case of eye strain - a deep, immense pain in my left eye. After all, my mum, dad and sister all have glasses so I assumed my time was up!

Courtney booked me an appointment at the optometrist for the following weekend and I kept on in my evening assuming this eye pain would settle with some rest.

Monday June 3rd - Waking up Monday morning, the pain was still there. Had it gotten slightly better? Not at all. I continued on my Monday as normal with an incredibly busy day at work and headed around to Courtney’s for the weekly ‘Monday night roast’ courtesy of her mother. Knowing I had a rostered day off on Tuesday, I knew I could sleep in, relax, take it easy and my eye would eventually get better - surely! It has to!

Tuesday June 4th - With the day off, no alarms set I was woken up at 8:30am with the call I was least expecting. My mum was in tears as she somehow bravely blurted that my grandfather had passed away that morning. Poppy was ill and attempting to recover from a recent hip operation he had after a fall - we all thought he’d fight through it and keep battling but unfortunately his time was up and nanny had called him to join her. A man I was so close with, a fighter had suddenly left us. I was in shock, but raced to pick mum up from work. We made the decision to join my family in Bairnsdale - 3 hours away from where I live. Mum and I shared the driving there, no worries in the world. My eye pain was still there - Worse than it had been, but that was secondary this day. I could still see perfectly normal still assuming it was just eye strain.

Wednesday June 5th - As soon as I woke up, I knew something wasn’t right with my left eye. The pain had slightly subsided however my vision just wasn’t right. I can’t explain what I felt that morning. My left eye was still moving as it should however the vision just wasn’t right. I chose to close my left eyelid and primarily look through my right. It was at this moment I just knew it wasn’t an eye strain - it was something worse.

Mum went down the street that morning and I tagged along. Fortunately, Specsavers (Bairnsdale’s local optometrist) was open and they could squeeze me in for an eye check. I knew I had to rule that out before attending a hospital.

Not to my surprise, my vision was 20/20 out of each eye as it had been for my life. The optometrist suggested if I’m having issues, to head to the local hospital - so that I did.

Rolling on into Bairnsdale Regional Hospital at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon wasn’t exactly on my schedule when heading down to Bairnsdale originally, but that’s what it had come to. The triage nurse saw me immediately and rushed me through to be seen (within 30 minutes and a waiting room full of patients!) The doctor - who was only in his second year out of uni was quick to assess that I was having issues with my third nerve (something that wouldn’t be mentioned again for a couple of days). In consultation with the Eye and Ear Hospital in Melbourne, it was recommended I leave Bairnsdale immediately and go and present myself to them - a 4 hour drive. With other matters on my mind, I was hesitant to go. My family basically pushed me out the door and it was at that moment that I knew I had to go.

9pm I walk in the entrance to a ridiculously busy waiting room. I present myself to triage and they pull the papers they had from earlier in the day. I thought this may mean I’d get through a bit quicker - boy oh boy I was wrong! Fortunately, State of Origin I was on and that entertained me until 10:30... and from there it was a genuine slog. 11:45pm I walked through the sliding doors and was met by who I can best describe as an overenthusiastic young(ish) Pom who was keen to have a look at me. It was late. I was tired. This bloke was over the top, but my word did he know his stuff! Did that help him diagnose me? No. 2am came around and he sent me home, telling me to expect a call at 9am with plans on what to do next.

Thursday June 6th - Just to his word, a phone call comes in at 9am from the doctor I’d seen only seven hours earlier. He advised I needed a CT scan (at 1pm) and an appointment with a specialist (3pm). The CT scan went well and I assumed I’d be out by 4pm and be able to head to the Sandown Greyhounds for the night as I’d been busy organising a night out over the weeks prior. This all changed when we saw the specialist. She ran her basic tests and ordered an MRI scan ASAP. I got taken over to St. Vincent’s Private Hospital for the scans via an underground tunnel - yes! They exist! My very first MRI scan was done and back to the Eye and Ear Hospital we went. The specialist that I’d seen earlier in the day was rostered on that night in emergency fortunately for me! She got the scan results back and ruled out a stroke and bleeding on my brain pretty early. This was a relief, I suppose. I wasn’t going to die in the short term! It was from here where she advised i’d be required to be admitted to St. Vincent’s Hospital that night for further tests over the next few days. It was at this point where I felt helpless. Disappointed and helpless. I was expecting to have a few tests done and go home and continue my life as per normal. I didn’t want to be admitted to a hospital so far away from home. I didn’t want to wait around for tests. I wanted to be home. In my bed. Some normality at least. This is where my mindset had to change and that it did - pretty quickly.

Dad walked with me over to St. Vincent’s and we entered the emergency department. We were told “you won’t have to wait long... they are already expecting you.” Well, once again, what was I thinking? A city central hospital with no waiting in emergency? In retrospect, I was definitely getting my hopes up.

A solid 3 hour wait finally saw me enter through the doors and be seen to. This is where dad left me - for the first time in this ordeal I was alone. Was I scared? I won’t lie. Yes, yes I was. At 24 years old, no idea what’s wrong with me and alone in a major hospital in the city? I think that’s justified.

How’s the eye at this stage? Terrible. In the prior 24 hours I’d developed double vision and my left eye had significantly moved with no ability to control it - as you can see below.

Friday June 7th - 4am I was finally taken to a ward and had a bed to myself. It was on the 9th floor in the ward that generally deals with major bone breaks and reconstructions/replacements. I was wheeled into a twin-share room with an old guy who had just had his hip replaced. In retrospect, I had such a good room in what turned out to be an incredible hospital. The food was excellent, the nurses went above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable and as happy as you can be and in the end, I had a great view of Melbourne.

10am came by and I saw the first of what felt like 100 doctors that day. They were pretty quick to diagnose me with Third Nerve Palsy in my left eye - something I hadn’t heard since I first presented in Bairnsdale two days prior.

Unfortunately, being a part of the neuro team of doctors - things didn’t happen too quickly. Just my luck too, this upcoming weekend was the Queens Birthday long weekend. I didn’t realise or even think that hospitals go on skeleton staff over the weekends and scans don’t get done very quickly... I wasn’t booked in for a follow up CT and MRI scan until Tuesday...

Monday June 10th - I’m not going to lie. Mentally I was struggling. Presented to a hospital on Thursday night/Friday morning for what was Third Nerve Palsy and they just left me there over the weekend. No follow ups. No nothing. I didn’t realise how much hospitals shut down over weekends - I certainly do now! I was a mess. I felt lost. I didn’t know what was going on or even why for that matter. My eye was doing something it had never done and I couldn’t control it. I felt helpless and lonely.

Courtney was just getting over a serious case of the flu, so I hadn’t seen her in over a week and it was killing me.

I broke down Monday night after I’d calmed down from what was a good win by my Pies. 8pm came around, visitors were gone and I was there by myself. No clear plan about what was wrong with me or how they were going to fix it. I was an emotional mess.

Tuesday June 11th - Finally. The long weekend was over and didn’t I notice the difference. 7am and the hospital was a hive of activity. My CT and MRI scans were booked in for later that day as well as what will turn out to be my first of many lumbar punctures (LP) - something that scared the life out of me. Mentally, 24 hours later I was doing okay. I could see things progressing...but one thing was playing on my mind. Poppy’s funeral was on Friday and I knew within myself I had to be there to say my final goodbye. I let the nurses and doctors know and they seemed to be okay with letting me out on day leave - however logistically that left an issue. 4 hour drive with an 11am funeral wasn’t going to be possible.

Wednesday June 12th - At this stage, my eye hadn’t got any worse. It was just the third nerve affected and otherwise, I was perfectly fine. The results of my scans and LP came back which showed inflammation on my third nerve (which was expected) as well as a high white blood cell and protein count. This lead the doctors to believe it was due to either inflammation or infection. The doctors pretty quickly leant away from infection as I wasn’t presenting with any other signs so they treated me with an incredibly high dosage of a steroid called methylprednisolone to treat the inflammation.

IV drip for the first lot on Wednesday night and 10x 100mg tablets on each Thursday and Friday.

Thursday June 13th - The doctors agreed to let me out Thursday afternoon providing I had no further reactions to the methylprednisolone. Turns out I didn’t, so they fortunately let me out at 3pm to do what I needed to over the following few days. They were happy not to see me again unless of course things progressed and got worse and organised a follow up scan in two months time. At this stage, the diagnosis was Third Nerve Palsy due to inflammation of the nerve that was treated via steroids and may get better over the following weeks or months - or may not get better at all.

Friday June 14th - Sunday June 16th - Whilst Friday was a heavily emotional day saying my final farewell to Poppy, physically I got through it okay and had no further issues. This was my life now - whether I liked it or not. Deep down I had confidence it would get better in time and I’d have to see St. Vincent’s every few weeks to check up and I was okay with that.

Monday June 17th - I wake up Monday morning at home incredibly sick. What was wrong with me? I didn’t sleep during the night and was having hot and cold flushes, dizzy spells, hallucinations, no appetite and had absolutely no idea where I was. It was the flu, without having the flu or feeling sick. It was such a strange feeling. I started to develop an immense pain in my right jaw - incredibly similar to my eye. I started to worry - instantly. I called the doctor who was looking after me at St. Vincent’s and he wasn’t worried about it. He advised me to go to my GP and just get an X-ray to make sure everything is okay.

Deep down, I knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. I suspected the sickness was the come down from such a high dosage of steroids (which was later confirmed) but this jaw pain felt all too similar and I was scared.

Needless to say, I didn’t go to the GP or get an X-ray purely because I didn’t want another round of doctors looking at me, wasting the prior time at St. Vincent’s.

This continued through Tuesday and Wednesday. Exactly the same symptoms... I got further worried.

Thursday June 20th - Mum was on my back about going to my GP. I was resentful, but booked an appointment for 4pm to get checked out. I was still a mess, but better than I had been. Dad took me to my GP appointment and came in with me. By this stage, I couldn’t chew. I’d lost all strength completely in my jaw - both right and left side. My regular doctor took one look at me, checked my files she got from St. Vincent’s that morning and advised that I needed to head back into hospital - be it St. Vincent’s or Monash Hospital Clayton. She recommended Monash Clayton for two reasons; 1. Closer to home & 2. Well renown Neuro doctors.

I was hesitant, but knew I had to. I was more open to going than I had been a fortnight prior and was happy to be in for the long haul. Mentally, I was in a good spot. I knew something more was wrong and it wasn’t just inflammation. Alas, in I went. Straight to Emergency Department at Monash Clayton.

Friday June 21st - To cut a long story short, to get a bed at Monash Clayton was horrible! I spent a few hours in emergency, followed by 5 hours in short stay and eventually 24 hours in a day ward before I was moved onto a general medical ward. Friday was spent in the day ward with Neuro doctors coming back and forth obsessing over my eye and jaw issues.

I’d bloody done it again. Gone into hospital late on a Thursday... this time I knew not much would happen over the weekend and I was prepared for that.

Monday June 24th - As expected, not a whole lot happened over the weekend. I got moved to a general medical ward and that was it.

Monday afternoon finally brought some news once the Neuro team had looked at me properly. I’d lost my third nerve (which we already knew) and my fifth nerve (jaw) was also shot and gone. Great. I couldn’t eat. I was put on what was called a ‘minced and moist diet’ which can only be described as an unknown meat, minced with gravy with a few unknown vegetables on the side (see below). It was horrible. I didn’t have much of an appetite however what I did have was quickly swept away with the sight of this food.

Over the next few days, more CT, MRI, Ultrasounds and LP’s were done. Blood tests twice daily. I was quite frankly getting sick and tired of getting poked, prodded and scanned only for the Neuro doctors to come in once (maybe twice) a day to tell me there’s no real update and they needed to wait for tests to come back.

Thursday 27th June - During the week, things had progressively gotten worse. I’d lost my sixth nerve in my left eye as well as feeling in my chin (just below my mouth) and started to develop quite a large, painful lump underneath my right earlobe.

Doctors were then forced to act fast. They’d suspected I was suffering from either a virus that hadn’t made itself too known and was attacking my nerves or an auto immune disease that was forcing my white blood cells to attack my own nerves, picking them off one by one.

They did some more tests and sent them to both Brisbane and Canberra to be looked at as Monash Clayton or anywhere in Melbourne couldn’t get the results they wanted.

Immediately, they started to treat me for both of these conditions simultaneously. I was having an anti-viral drip 3x/day every 8 hours for the virus as well as what was called IVIG (derived from blood) to fight the auto immune disease and kill off my bad white blood cells.

I was scared. Every day I was getting worse and I suppose I just wanted to know what was wrong with me. I probably felt most for my direct family and Courtney who all had no answers despite all the tests and scans I’d done previously. They were left in the dark - as was I. 22 days it had been since I felt some sort of normality and it was killing me. The fact they had no answers was slowly eating away at me, but I put on a smile and a positive attitude as I always do. They’ll find something soon. They have to. It’ll come back positive for auto-immune, I’ll get treated and away we go back to normality. I was wrong.

Friday July 5th - This treatment cycle went on for the next week or so. The doctors were happy I wasn’t getting worse, my sixth nerve had slightly returned so they were happy to let me go home. 15 days in hospital this spell. It didn’t feel like 15 days though, not to me anyway. I think that’s probably because of the positive mindset and willingness to stay in until they found what was wrong with me. I’d started to develop muscle aches and pains in my left leg but I thought nothing of it - assuming that was just because I’d been in hospital and confined to a 3x3 room for 15 days!

I’d had a full body MRI scan and ultrasound on my leg the day earlier and they saw something around my stomach they wanted to investigate a little bit further. Before they let me out, we agreed to have a follow up MRI in two or three weeks as well as a PET scan within the next week and a bit to investigate my stomach a bit more. I was happy, the doctors were happy and away I went. Back into the world they call life. I was happy.

Monday July 8th - After spending a relaxing weekend between home and Courtney’s, I had an unexpected call at 1pm. It was a woman from Moorabbin Hospital wanting to urgently book me in for a PET scan and was wondering when I was available. She advised she only really had the following day at 2:30pm available for the next three weeks and advised I need to be there. So I took it. I had no bloody idea what a PET scan was, so as any 24 year old would do, I gave it a Google.

“A positron emission tomography (PET) scan is an imaging test that allows your doctor to check for diseases in your body....”

My heart sunk as I read a bit more. PET scans are generally used to pick up cancers. Wait. What? Why do the doctors want to do this so urgently? They were talking over the next week and a half, so why are they doing it now? My gut feeling wasn’t good. I knew something deeper was wrong but I brushed it aside - my condition despite being unconfirmed was in my mind, still auto-immune.

Tuesday July 9th - I’d never had a PET scan before but I did a YouTube search so I knew what to expect. It was like a CT scan pretty much. They inject the radioactive glucose into you, wait an hour so your body can absorb it and have a scan. Simple.

For the first time in this whole ordeal, something went exactly as I expected it. It was an easy process made easier by the wonderful nurses in there. My PET scan went well and I was happy. I was convinced nothing would show but still had that deep feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.

I had a call that night and booked myself in for a follow up MRI at Monash Clayton for the following day - once again a few weeks earlier than expected. The woman on the phone said the doctors wanted to rush it through and once again, my gut sank. Something just wasn’t right. Why are the doctors pushing through these scans when we’d only discussed 4 days earlier about having them in a few weeks. Whatever. I’ll go. I have to. I just want to know what’s wrong with me!

Thursday July 18th - 16:32. An unknown number calls. This is how I’ve been getting my scans booked. Is it another one? “Is that Justin?” the gentleman on the other end of the line goes.

“It’s Jason from the haematology department at Monash Clayton. I’m not sure if your Neuro doctors have called you yet, but I’ve just had a look at your PET scan from Tuesday with them. We can see significant areas in your stomach, liver, gall bladder and groin that has lit up which we weren’t expecting. It’s your lymphnodes that have reacted with the glucose and are showing us we need to investigate a bit more. We’ll need to get you in for another LP and we’re going to have to do a biopsy of those lymphnodes to get more of an idea. At this stage, we’re looking at lymphoma as a genuine cause of what’s wrong with you...”

I tune out. I’m still processing his first few sentences. What? You mean they’ve found something that isn’t related to the nerves in my eye? Lymphoma? Isn’t that cancer? I might have a type of cancer? But I’m 24? That can’t be right.

I finish the conversation with him and hang up the phone. I was home with mum and the time. She looks at me and asked what the phone call was about. I break down. I cry. I don’t know how to process the news. I’m a mess for a solid 15 minutes. I eventually get strong enough to tell mum. She breaks down as well. It must’ve been incredibly difficult to hear your 24 year old son may have lymphoma. I call dad and let him know....and Courtney. Other than that, I keep it on the downlow. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. What if it is nothing?

Jason calls back later that night. Pretty much says I have an appointment on Monday for another LP and they want to do the biopsy ASAP. He said not to go to ED at Monash Clayton and just to expect a call at any moment between then and Monday that they have a bed for me. When I get the call, I had to go in. I was okay with this. It wasn’t going to happen for a few days!

Sunday July 14th - Court and I went down to dads for the lunch and catch up with his wife and her kids. It was a great day to forget about the reality of life for a few hours. That was until we went to Coles to get stuff for lunch and I had a missed call from a private number. Without listening to the voicemail, I knew what it was. My gut dropped. I told Courtney and we listened to the voicemail together.

“Hi Justin, we’re just letting you know a bed is available and if you could come into the ward ASAP.”

I’m okay with it. I knew it was coming... then a few minutes later I broke down in the middle of Coles. What hit me? I don’t know. Reality I suppose. I didn’t want to go back in. I knew I had to. I knew this trip was going to be about whether or not I have lymphoma - a type of a cancer. I was scared. I grabbed Courtney’s shoulder and just cried. Cried for a solid 5 minutes. I couldn’t control myself. It just hit me.

I thought I’d wait until they called back instead of making that call to enquire further to bide myself an extra hour or two. Half an hour later, they call and I answer. I was able to arrange an extra four hours until I had to be in there. This gave me enough time to get home, pack a bag and mentally prepare myself to head in.

By 5pm that night, I was in a bed with the lumbar puncture booked for the following day at 2:30pm.

Monday July 16th (Today) - I’m not afraid to say I hate LP’s. Being larger than your average 24 year old, they can’t do the blind and require them under CT guidance. It makes the process easier, but it certainly doesn’t feel as pleasant!

I saw the haematology doctor at 11:30 this morning. He was open and honest with me. Which I appreciated. He basically said up front “We’re 90% sure you have lymphoma. All we are waiting on is the biopsy to come back positive and we can start treatment...which will be chemo...”

That’s about all I took out of the conversation. It hit me. Not hard that I’d cry, but the reality hit me hard. Here I am, apart from overweight, I’m a normal otherwise healthy 24 year old. In the space of six weeks, I’ve developed symptoms I don’t wish upon anybody and getting told the doctors are 90% certain I have lymphoma.

I’m not going to lie, it’s not easy to be where I am at the moment. It’s a funny time in my life. I’m being as positive as I can however I know I’m about to face the biggest battle of my life. In a way, I really hope the biopsy does come back positive - just so we finally have something. Confirmation on something and can start treatment pretty much instantly.

With my biopsy scheduled for between 8:30 - 11:30 tomorrow, I’m not going to lie, i’m shitting myself. Sedate me. Put a camera down my mouth to my stomach. Take tissue samples of my lymphnodes. Sounds like a great Tuesday morning to me. For once in my life I think I’d prefer to be at work!

Realistically, I’m expecting the results back from the biopsy in 24-36 hours from tomorrow morning and expect if confirmed to be lymphoma, to begin my chemo treatment late this week.

As I said earlier, it’s going to be the biggest fight of my life...But I’m ready. I’m not prepared to fail, I never have been. I will beat whatever is wrong with me.

If you’ve made it this far, kudos. It’s now 1:32am and I’m starting to get the tired eyes. As I started, I feel as if I had to start this blog to move forward mentally. Whilst this will be my longest entry I’ll have, it certainly won’t be my last. I assure you of that.

Wish my luck for tomorrow!

Juzz xx

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chungledown-bimothy · 5 years

Text

Trust Me: Chapter 5

Hello again! I know it’s been a while- things got crazy with the holidays and my birthday, but things are calm now. Here we go!

Chapter One Chapter 4 AO3 Chapter 6

Warnings: mentions of violence, descriptions of torture

Word Count: 1865

Tag List: @ren-allen @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @spookyingarbageisland @band-be-boss-blog

Virgil made his way to Dr Vincent Nigel-Murray's lab with a bad feeling in his gut. He hadn't been able to meet with the pathologist about the first victim, as the doctor had left town suddenly shortly after Virgil arrived. But he was back, and it was time Virgil met the man he'd heard so much about.

"Doctor Nigel-Murray?" He knocked on the doorframe, peering into the lab. "Are you here?"

"Ah! Yes! You must be Detective Mason, yeah?" Virgil wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but a 6-foot-tall Brit with dark hair and startling blue eyes who was practically bouncing with excitement was not it.

"Yep, that's me. Nice to meet you, doctor."

"Please, call me Vincent. Or Nigel. I also go by Vin, Vinnie, Vincenzo, any of those. My ex used to call me Vino Delectable."

"I'll stick with Vincent. And you can call me Virgil."

"A lovely name! Did you know that the famed Roman poet Virgil was homosexual and included erotic homosexual themes in two of his famed Eclogues?"

"I, um, didn't know that. Why would you bring that up? Have people been talking about me, gossiping about the gay new guy? I thought San Francisco was going to be better than this." Virgil narrowed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

"You're gay? I did not know that. What a coincidence! Fun fact- in 2017, it was estimated that 8.2% of Millennials identify as LGBT+."

"You didn't know? Then what's with all the facts?"

"Facts are the stitches that hold the fabric of the universe together. I apologize if I'm being annoying; I've been told it's a rather bad habit." Vincent looked down and put his hands in his pockets; Virgil relaxed, suddenly understanding.

"It's an anxiety thing, right? Things get overwhelming sometimes, but facts are grounding."

"That is exactly right! If I may ask, how could you tell so quickly? Almost everyone gets there eventually, but it's only been a matter of minutes."

"I was one of the FBI's best profilers. Also, I do the same thing with sarcasm and hostility."

"It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Virgil. Now, follow me, I have two bodies with stories I think you'll want to hear."

Virgil followed the doctor into his lab. He was no stranger to morgues and autopsied bodies, but he could never get over the weird feeling in his gut when they were rolled out of the cooler. As always, he ignored the feeling and followed Dr Nigel-Murray to the first body.

"This is Orin Scrivello, the first victim. You can see the ligature marks on his wrists and ankles, and the scabbing indicates that he was tied up for quite some time and struggled a lot. This is just conjecture, but I'd wager it happened while the killer was inflicting these wounds." He pointed to the deep cuts on his legs and chest.

"Those look really deep. Cause of death?"

"You'd think, but no. The killer stayed clear of any major veins and arteries."

"So what's cause of death?"

"Blood loss."

"You literally just said-"

"He didn't bleed out through any of these wounds; he's got a single slice right along his brachial artery."

"Do we know what was used to cut him up?"

"Standard kitchen knife. Dime a dozen, available anywhere knives are sold."

"Great. Anything else interesting?"

"A couple of things. First, there were signs of dehydration, but not malnutrition."

"Any idea on how long they had him?"

"About two weeks, probably."

"The killer kept him fed while they tortured him for two weeks? Why would someone do that?" Virgil muttered. "The second interesting thing?"

"Particulates indicate that he was held in a warehouse. Nothing more specific than that, unfortunately; the killer did a really good job of covering their tracks."

"Just not good enough. Okay, let's talk about the second vic?"

"Indeed. Kyle Ren. Just finished his autopsy, in fact."

"Cool. Okay, let's start with what's the same between the two."

"Same ligature marks, although it appears that the killer kept him longer; I'd say closer to three weeks. He was also dehydrated but not malnourished. He was also tortured, but very differently."

"How different?"

"Orin had a relatively few, deep cuts. Kyle's arms are covered with dozens of shallow cuts. Obviously, he was hit in the fact repeatedly, and the killer removed some of the flesh on his chest. Two rectangles, one on each pectoral."

"That's so weird. There was no flesh removal on Orin?"

"Nope."

"What was going on in this guy's head? Anyway, what are these on his thighs?"

"Electrical burns."

"So the killer cut, beat, and electrocuted him, sliced part of his chest off, and finally strangled him while also keeping him fed?"

"That's consistent with what I've found, yes."

"This guy is smart, angry, and escalating. Damn it. Okay, thanks, Vincent."

"My pleasure, Virgil. Hopefully we'll see each other again under better circumstances?"

"Maybe. By the way, and you really don't have to answer, but how did you decide you wanted to be a coroner?"

"Oh, it's quite the story. I was studying to be a forensic anthropologist in DC, and I got shot by a serial killer we were closing in on. I survived, obviously, and when I recovered… I don't know. Flesh and blood was a lot more interesting. So I finished my anthropology doctorate and went back for pathology."

"That's nuts. I'm glad you made it, and even more glad you're out here. You're a cool guy, Vincent. I gotta go talk to Kyle's next of kin. It was great meeting you."

"You too!"

--------

"Mason!" Virgil flinched when his captain's voice echoed through the bullpen. He took a deep breath before answering the summons.

"Yes, sir?" He asked once he reached Captain Sanders' office.

"Come in, it's time we talk about the case."

"Yes, sir." Virgil took a seat in one of the chairs across from Sanders' desk before continuing. "I met with the second victim's parents today- they confirmed the killer's assertion that he was a fascist. The pieces of flesh removed had swastika and Confederate flag tattoos. Apparently his grandfather was a high-ranking officer in the German military in World War 2. The victim was very vocal about his beliefs online; we have a tech team looking into his online interactions for potential suspects."

"Good. Now, tell me about the killer."

"He's wicked smart and almost certainly has a medical background. He's what we call mission-oriented, and his mission is vengeance. He's detail-oriented and covers his tracks well, but I don't think he has a criminal background before these kills."

"Killers usually do. Why not him?"

"How he treats the bodies after killing them. The things he did to his victims before killing them were violent and messy, but he cleaned them up and covered them carefully with leaves like a blanket. Yes, the cleaning served the purpose of eliminating most of the particulate evidence, but the clean clothes in the right size shows an extra step of care. He also kept the victims well-fed. He wanted them healthy, aside from the torture. It may seem illogical, but he has very high empathy. He punishes his victims because he genuinely cares about people.

Once he's punished them as he sees fit, they're human again, and deserving of respect and care. The violence is tied to the victim's crimes or sins, however he chooses to label them. Our killer isn't violent or malicious outside of the conditions that triggered the killings; he's probably perceived in his community as perfectly normal. Not creepy like Dahmer or manipulative like Bundy. Just an average person. He's probably lived in the area a long time, if not his entire life, and has a stable, long-term job."

"Sounds like he's going to be hard to catch. What's with the puzzle pieces, though?"

"He will make a mistake sooner, rather than later. The puzzle pieces are a taunt, daring us to solve the puzzle of who he is. He wants our attention, he wants to prove that he's smarter than we are. And that's what's going to hang him. He sees himself as an avenging angel, but he's just an Icarus."

"How does that help us catch him?"

"Honestly, sir, I'm still working on that part. I want to consult some papers from an old colleague before I add any more details to my official preliminary profile. I have a few ideas, but he was always better with mission-oriented killers than I am. I know it isn't the answer you want, but I learned the hard way how dangerous jumping to conclusions can be when dealing with someone like this."

"Mason…" Sanders started, softly.

"With all due respect, captain, don't start with that. I'm fine. I just want to make sure we do this by the book. Like you said on my first day- 'we can't let this become another Zodiac fiasco'."

"I can't say I like you using my exact words against me, but your work has been above reproach. I'm officially declaring this case yours and yours alone- I won't pressure you to partner up anymore. Just keep me in the loop okay?"

"Of course. Thank you, sir."

"You've earned it. Now shoo, you've got more important things to do than sit here with me."

"Okay." Virgil chuckled as he stood up and left.

---

"Patton don't do this. It's not a good idea. You don't know who this guy is, how much of a threat he might pose to us and our work."

"You do realize you sound just like them, right, Logan? Thinking you know best, trying to tell me what I can and can't do because of how it might affect you instead of thinking about what I want and need."

"That's not fair. You know that I love you, and they never loved either of us. I want you to stay safe; I can't protect you if I don't know who you're associating with."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to protect me any more? I know you mean well, but you have to trust me. You said yourself that I'm better with people than you are." Patton paused. "This isn't about protecting me at all, is it? It's about how you know that without me, you're alone. You have nothing without me, and you can't handle that."

"I… you're right. I need you, Patton." Logan admitted, falling to his knees.

Patton reached down and cupped Logan's face with their hands, tilting his face up. "Logan, you are and always will be the most important thing in my life. But I can't shake the feeling that getting to know him could change everything in the best way."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about, but I'll trust your instincts. I love you, Pat."

"I love you too, Logan. Thank you." Patton walked to their room, leaving Logan on his knees in the living room, alone with his thoughts.

Patton's right; this date changes everything. If we are deviating from the pattern in favor of indulging other desires, well, I would be a fool to let this opportunity pass.

#sanders sides #logicality #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fan fiction #my writing #human au #serial killer au #trust me

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pengychan · 4 years

Text

[Good Omens] Winging It - Jeremiah 17:9

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: No vintage pornography was mistreated in the making of this chapter.

(A scene was partly based on and amazing comic by @hyunlou, because I loved it so much I could no longer picture the scene going any other way,and also @lunaescribe on my birthday with art - check the fic tag to see both!)

***

“... Is that what they asked you? If you had carnal desires? Were those their exact words?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, and shifted a little when Łukasz let out a groan, rubbing his temples.

“Why do they speak like they came out of some shitty BBC period drama?” Fabrizio asked, only for Łukasz to entirely ignore him and look back at Gabriel.

“And you said no.”

“I said I don’t think I do-- I am not sure-- and then they left before I could suggest we go out for the evening, and I have no idea why. But they did take the mugs, so--”

“Jesus Christ, mate, they were making a pass at you!”

Gabriel blinked. “... They were making a what?”

Fabrizio cleared his throat before speaking in the fakest, poshest British accent imaginable. “I think what my esteemed colleague is trying to say is that this… what’s their name again?”

“Beel-- Bill.”

“Right. This Bill was trying to politely gauge whether or not you may, perchance, be entertaining the thought of shagging.”

“Shagging?” Gabriel repeated. He was familiar with the term, of course - working in warehouse near the docks had taught him a vast array of terms all generally referring to the same things - but he had no idea why Beelzebub would be asking if he entertained the thought of--

“Shagging them, specifically.”

Gabriel stared. He opened his mouth, gaped a little more, then blinked. “They-- were?” he asked, sounding every inch as bewildered as he felt. The notion was so alien to him, it was hard to wrap his mind around it… and yet, now that it had been clearly spelled out for him, Gabriel felt a sudden desire to reach back into the space-time continuum and smack himself in the back of the head. Unable to do that due to his current limitations as a mortal, he just blinked again. “But... why?”

Forehead firmly pressed on the table, Łukasz snickered. “That’s an excellent question,” he said. “I’m starting to suspect your friend is a rabid moronsexual.”

“A what?”

That caused Fabrizio to burst laughing so suddenly and violently that Gabriel was left with little doubt that he was supposed to feel insulted by the remark. However, he was too baffled to.

“That was never-- it never came up,” he protested.

“Hah! Well, it did now. They brought it up. So, are you?”

Gabriel opened his mouth.

“... Before you go ‘am I what’, allow me to make myself clear. Are you interested in the offer?”

Ah. “I’m… not certain it was an offer, I ought not assume--”

“Let’s say it was. Are you?”

Gabriel hesitated, and this time they didn’t press him for an answer. Which was good, because he honestly did not have one yet; there had been something when he’d held the Prince of Hell in his arms, something that had made him wish he didn’t have to put them down… but the notion of carnal desires was so foreign to him, he had no idea what that would even feel like.

In the end, he sighed. “... I’ll need to do research,” he finally said.

If Łukasz and Fabrizio found it an odd response, which they probably did, they said nothing of it.

“All right. But, my friend, let me tell you something. Whether you want to shag them or not, you’re so smitten it’s not even funny,” Fabrizio said. Gabriel didn’t even try to argue he was not.

Lying is, after all, a sin.

***

Indulging in carnal pleasures was, quite obviously, not the immediate ticket to the lowest circles of Hell that many mortals seemed to believe it was.

It was in some cases, of course, whenever someone forced their own lust on somebody who was anything but a willing participant; those souls had a circle of their own, which was rather cramped as well as boasting a frankly astounding amount of Catholic priests.

A good number of them may have been tempted by demons, though Beelzebub suspected it was a minority, but even in those cases all the forces of Hell had really done was put some rather non-specific lust in their heart; how they let it grow and then acted upon it was entirely their choice.

It was not a circle of Hell Beelzebub had ever had much to do with, as lust did not precisely fall under their expertise, and therefore they did not know the minute details of what was the exact line between simple carnal pleasure and sinful lust. However, they felt reasonably certain in the assumption that carnal relations with a Prince of Hell would, at the very least, be a prominent enough sin to tilt the balance of the scale towards Hell.

And I may be more successful in doing that than I was trying to convince him to push an old lady under the bus.

Just maybe. There were demons who made seduction their weapon of choice when it came to gaining influence over mortals, but Beelzebub was not among them. Plus, when asked if he did have carnal desires, Gabriel had said he didn’t think he did.

But he hadn’t said no, either, which had been his immediate reply whenever they had tried to talk him into any kind of serious sin, and therefore Beelzebub concluded it would be foolish not to make at least an attempt. So they would - but first, they needed to do some research over what carnal relations precisely entailed other than just choosing one out of two models of genitalia and make them fit with the other’s.

They would come across as rather stupid, after all, if Gabriel accepted and they had to reveal they didn’t know the first thing about what they’d just proposed.

***

The dancers should stand facing each other, keep their feet loose and relaxed, standing so that they are facing each other with about an arm's length of space in between them...

By the time he got to the second paragraph, Gabriel had begun to suspect that guide - Learn How To Shag In One Minute - was not precisely what he was looking for. With a frown, he went back to the search results and looked around a bit further.

Ah, so apparently shag dancing was a thing. It looked rather awkward and had no relevance to his research, doubly so as angels did not dance and he certainly had not picked up the habit since becoming mortal, so in the end Gabriel sighed and just put his phone down.

All right, it seemed that the Internet was not a reliable source, regardless of the large amounts of porn that, he had been informed, could be found in it. He had absolutely no intention to come across as a fool if - when? - Beelzebub brought up the matter again, and therefore he needed better sources than dubious websites with excessive amounts of Xs in their name.

A book. Books are more reliable.

Of course Gabriel was not so gullible to think all books could be trusted - he had seen too many outlandish editions of the Bible not to know better - so he would need to be certain the book he got his hands on would be a reputable one.

And he just so happened to know an expert in the field.

***

“Lord Beelzeb--”

“Nothing!”

Dagon blinked, taken aback, when Lord Beelzebub let out a noise that was only slightly more dignified than a shriek and slammed their laptop shut. They had been sitting on their throne, staring at the screen with such keen interest they hadn’t heard her coming in - and now, for some reason, they were sitting on the laptop.

… All right. Dagon would assume that whatever they were looking at was a private matter and not ask, then. She cleared her throat and somehow managed to keep a straight face despite the utter surprise; she had never seen the Lord of the Flies caught so off-guard.

“What do you want!” Beelzebub barked, looking one step away from trying to turn her to ashes. Not that Hellfire could destroy a demon, of course, but it would hurt quite badly and Dagon liked it better when she was not hurt quite badly.

“I, uh, am here concerning the meeting to review the performance of our demons this month,” she said. “If it suits you, we can move the time--”

“You can chair that stupid meeting,” the Prince of Hell snapped. “Now leave. I’m busy.”

“Oh. Is it anything I can help wi--”

“You can help by chairing the meeting in my stead.”

“Ah. Does that mean I am authorized to choose who to punish and what bonuses to award--”

“You’re authorized to do whatever the Heaven you want, as long as you leave me now!”

The flies around Lord Beelzebub’s head buzzed furiously as though to underline the unspoken threat, and Dagon was clever enough not to argue further: a quick bow, and she was out of the throne room as fast as her legs could carry her while still maintaining some composure.

Once alone, Beelzebub let out a groan and rubbed their eyes. They stood, picked up the laptop from their throne, and opened it again. The screen was cracked, but then again the entire thing was so busted it was plainly not supposed to work in any capacity, and Beelzebub had yet to meet a piece of technology that would defy their order to work when they were supposed to.

It sure worked now, as Beelzebub turned it back on and to look at their most recent searches.

how to do courtship how to court human how to court idiot how to kiss human genitalia how penis work how vagina work how to have sex tutorial

The last one led to a rather educational video depicting a man and a woman on a large, round bed. If they squinted, the man even looked a little like Gabriel.

Beelzebub supposed it would do for now, in case they decided to acquire female genitalia for the occasion, but they were still on the fence about that and would probably need to seek more varied videos. Just to make sure they had grasped the main idea, of course.

“Unnecessarily complicated, is what all this is,” Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, declared loudly. Then they leaned back on their throne, reached for one of the mugs Gabriel had bought them, and hit play again.

For research.

***

“Gabriel! It’s good to see you.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Crowley muttered.

“Come, sit. I’ll make some tea.”

“Feel free to decline, we won’t mind.”

“Tea would be much appreciated, thank you,” Gabriel said, to Crowley’s annoyance, and sat, to his further annoyance, while entirely ignoring his remarks, to his utter annoyance. He looked around the cottage, and if he dared say anything about the decor Crowley would chew his head off, especially after seeing what kind of minimalistic nightmare Heaven was.

“This is… cozy,” Gabriel finally said after a slight hesitation, leaving Crowley just a little miffed that he didn’t, after all, get a good excuse to chew off his head. Yet.

“Oh, we’re still in the process of moving everything,” Aziraphale was saying, picking up the teapot he’d put on the stove only minutes before Gabriel had showed up at the bookstore. With the portal-door between the store and the cottage wide open, the sound of him knocking had carried over and Aziraphale had let him in before Crowley could stop it.

“We will keep the door open between here and my bookstore, it is such a convenient place to store all my books and I am not ready to give it up just yet. Crowley still needs to move some paintings out of his flat, that garish throne and the decoration he stole from a church--”

“I didn’t steal it, the church was bombed.”

“I remember. It was an eventful evening,” Aziraphale said lightly, putting the teapot on the table. “I almost got discorporated, but Crowley came to help me out. He saved us all upstairs so much paperwork.”

“Ah,” Gabriel said, clearly not sure what to say to that. “I mean-- thank you.”

Crowley gave him a long, unimpressed look, and he cleared his throat. “Anyway… where’s here, exactly?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know,” Crowley said, crossing his arms. They both had agreed that neither Heaven nor Hell would ever know where their cottage was, and while Gabriel was technically part of neither, he still counted as a stuck-up archangel as far as Crowley was concerned. Now that he knew about the cottage, something would have to be done about the door connecting it to the bookstore. Maybe a seal, the kind that would keep out anyone who was not the two of them…

“It’s good to know you’re doing well,” Aziraphale was saying, clearly speaking for himself only, and poured tea in all three cups on the table despite the fact Crowley had elected not to sit yet, instead glaring at Gabriel in hopes he would feel uncomfortable enough to leave. “Now, what was that you mentioned about needing research books?” he asked, and brought the cup to his mouth.

“I need pornography books,” Gabriel declared, and the excellent tea Aziraphale had just sipped was sprayed right back out on the table in a fine mist. From his corner, Crowley raised both eyebrows up to almost his hairline.

Well. That was not what he’d expected to hear.

Aziraphale looked down at the mess on the table and on his own clothes before he gave Gabriel a very, very weary look. “You know, don’t you, that there really is no need for codes now?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, no, it’s not a code. I do need some pornography books.”

Aziraphale stared.

“... For research. As I sa-- Aziraphale?”

No answer: Aziraphale stood, without a further word, and was out of the room within moments, hands up in the air. Whether to find someplace to scream in peace, stare at the wall for a few minutes while scrubbing the mental image out of his brain, or try to clean the tea off his clothes, Crowley was not sure.

He would check on him in a minute. First, he had questions.

“Research, huh?” he said, leaning on the table across a rather bewildered Gabriel, who had somehow expected a different reaction to him asking to borrow pornography books. He grinned, wide enough to almost make his cheeks hurt. There was some amazing mocking material there, he could feel it. “And who is this about? A new friend? A coworker?”

Still stunned by Aziraphale’s reaction, Gabriel answered without pausing a moment to ponder whether he should answer that question. “Beelzebub,” he said, like he was answering a question on what kind of tea he preferred.

Ah.

For a few moments Crowley could only stare, the grin frozen on his lips. He was startled out of it by a sound like breaking glass that, he realized rather belatedly, came from inside his own brain.

No. No no no no. Nope. Nope. Abort, abort.

“Angel!” he called out, his voice a little strangled, and went to search for Aziraphale to make him share with him whatever bleach he was now using on his brain. Behind him, Gabriel spoke up.

“Uh, so can I borrow a book--” he tried to ask, but a slamming door was the only reply he got for a good while.

***

“Oh, this is never going to come out…”

Aziraphale sighed, looking down at his waistcoat, whose front was currently drenched with tea. Of course he could miracle it away, with Gabriel no longer in the position of writing him strongly worded letters about frivolous miracles... but he could feel a headache build up just thinking about Gabriel and looking around for a clean napkin was a rather welcomed distraction.

Until Crowley stepped in, eyes wide.

“Beelzebub,” he blurted out, causing Aziraphale to nearly jump out of his skin and frantically look around. God knew, the last thing he needed to deal with was the Lord of the Flies in his bookstore.

“What-- where??”

“No, I mean--” Crowley let out a pained noise, rubbing his eyes like he hoped to get an awful image off his retinas. “It’s about Beelzebub. Gabriel’s research. On pornography.”

Ah.

“Ah,” Aziraphale said. He needed a few moments for what he’d just heard to entirely sink into his brain. When it did, he barely repressed a shudder. “That is… not… what I was expecting.”

“The Archangel Fucking Gabriel and Beelzebub. It’s in my brain now. Can you miracle it away?”

“I’m afraid that goes beyond my abilities,” Aziraphale said, reaching up to put a hand on his own head to calm the building headache. “If your head also hurts something awful, though, I can help with that. If you can get the tea out of my waistco-- oh. Thank you.” He smiled as Crowley took care of that with a snap of his fingers, the other hand still firmly on his eyes.

“You’re welcome. Now, can we throw him whatever book he wants and then throw him out?”

Aziraphale was very much opposed to throwing books, of course, but shoving a pornography book in Gabriel’s hands and firmly showing him the door seemed the best course of action.

***

“... I can explain.”

“No offence, but we’d really rather you do not.”

Gabriel shifted a little, a heavy leather-bound book in his arms. “Right. Well, er… thank you for the book. I’ll return it once I’ve--”

“Feel free to return it whenever. You’re very much welcome,” Aziraphale spoke quickly, and while he didn’t physically shove Gabriel through the door, he very much did get the message that he really wanted him to leave sooner rather than later. “Best of, er, luck. With your research,” he added quickly, and closed the door behind him.

Gabriel stood on the spot a few moments, blinking in slight confusion, but in the end he shrugged it off - maybe he had caught him in a busy moment - and opened the book to have a quick look.

… Huh. Could a mortal’s spine actually do that?

There was laughter, a couple of children running past him, and Gabriel immediately closed the book. Right, right - looking at pornography in public was frowned upon, so he ought to wait until he was back home. On the way back, he’d purchase a pen and notebook.

In case he needed to write something down.

***

Once their research was completed, Beelzebub was still not certain what it was about the act that so many humans found irresistible - but, they had to admit, their curiosity was piqued. Perhaps a carnal act with Gabriel would pave the way for his descent into Hell, perhaps it would not, but either way they would get to know what it precisely was about, so they would be getting something out of it.

The only thing for them to find out was whether Gabriel would be a willing participant, which was a rather important point because they may be the Prince of Hell but they also had standards. And, all things considered, they got the answer to that rather quickly: they couldn’t be many other reasons for Gabriel to be sitting at his desk with an open book full of pornographic images and a notebook half-filled with notes.

At least, they hoped they were not. Beelzebub found that the idea Gabriel might harbor carnal desire for someone else left them distinctly annoyed.

“I can explain,” Gabriel blurted out as soon as he recovered from the mini heart attack Beelzebub’s sudden appearance in flames and smoke had given in. Quick recovery, they had to give him that. “This is, uh-- this is-- research, for--”

“You’ve given my question some thought, I see.”

“Well--” he finally regained composure, and cleared his throat. “I have.”

“And…?”

“I’m not certain I do have those, uh, inclinations, but I’d be open to give it a try. If you’re so inclined,” he added quickly.

“I see,” Beelzebub said, their voice perfectly collected. Inwardly, however, they felt very much like a Jehovah's Witness who’d just been invited inside to talk after knocking: hadn’t really thought they would get that far and had already forgotten just about everything they had planned to do in the event. So they said nothing else, and stared.

Gabriel said nothing else. And stared.

Needless to say, that was not a promising start.

“... Which one?” Beelzebub finally asked.

“Huh?”

“Which set of genitalia.”

“Oh. I have--”

“I know what you have, I have seen you showering. I’m asking which one I should get now.”

“Ah.” Gabriel glanced at the book as though hoping to find an answer there. “Er… either? We can throw a coin,” he muttered, and dug a coin out of his pocket and handed it to them. “Head for penis and--”

Beelzebub threw the coin, caught it, and looked down at it. “Tails.”

“Right. Well--”

“Do not presume for even a moment I will allow you to be above me.”

“I’m not presuming, I just-- what are those?”

“Notes,” Beelzebub muttered, more than slightly irritated at having forgotten their own script. They shuffled through the clue cards they had pulled out of their back pockets, rather wishing their handwriting did not look like a dying fly had dragged itself across the paper after being dunked in ink.

“... Right. So we have come to the agreement we both consent. At this point, we’re supposed to--” they began, and trailed off when Gabriel did the unthinkable.

He laughed.

“What are you-- hey! Stop laughing!” Beelzebub buzzed furiously, their face suddenly really, really hot. They crumpled notes in their fist and glaring up at Gabriel. “Cease this instant!” they ordered, and were a moment away from kicking him in the shin - how dare he laugh at the Lord of the Flies? - when Gabriel spoke, his laugh dying down to a snicker.

“I-- heh. My apologies. I just--” he gestured to the papers crumpled in Beelzebub’s fist, and then at his own notebook on the desk. “One way or another, we end up with paperwork. I suspect humans are more spontaneous about it.”

Beelzebub huffed. “Well, I am not human,” they muttered, but the anger died down, and they crossed their arms. “If you don’t plan by the book, how do you know if you’re getting things right?”

“Well-- sometimes you don’t know. Humans take chances all the time.”

A scoff. “What a disgustingly human thing to say. Is that how your mind operates now?”

“... I do still find it somewhat frightening,” Gabriel said, quietly, and whatever mockery Beelzebub was about to utter next died in their throat. The look he was giving them was surprisingly open, and he looked painfully vulnerable.

In the end, when they spoke, their voice was just as quiet.

“You have no reason to be frightened,” they said, and burned the note in their fist, letting the ashes fall on the floor. “I usually do punish failure, but I’m willing to make you an exception, I suppose.”

A chuckle, and Gabriel lifted a hand, holding it up almost close enough to Beelzebub’s face to touch the skin. “May I?”

“... You may,” they replied. The touch was warm, foreign and familiar at the same time - did he touch their face like that a long time ago, when they were still Ba’al? - and leaning into it, finding out where it all led, was so very tempting. Ironic, considering that they were supposed to be the one doing the tempting and… and…

No.

“Wait.” Beelzebub reached up to brace a hand against Gabriel’s chest, keeping him at a distance. He immediately stopped, and looked down at them in confusion, their faces only inches apart. “There is a chance this may count as a serious sin.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shouldn’t have told him. He’ll call it off.

Gabriel blinked, and the confused expression turned into a smile. “I figured,” he said, and tilted up their chin. “I think I’ll take the chance.”

… Well, they had given him a fair warning, so their conscience was clear. Would have been clear, if they had one. “You’re a fool,” the Prince of Hell informed him.

“I figured that too,” the fool replied.

What followed was a bit messier and significantly more complicated than expected, but given enough time and attempts, they did figure that out as well.

***

A good while after they had both caught their breath and Gabriel’s heart no longer felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest, Beelzebub had yet to say a word.

But they were still there, even if silent, accepting Gabriel’s arms around them and his quiet breathing against the nape of their neck, and he supposed that was a sure sign they had no complaints. In the end, he dared break the peaceful silence.

“Can you stay for the night?” he asked, his voice low.

“I am Prince of Hell. I can do as I wish.”

“... Do you wish to stay for the night?”

“I can’t see why not,” they conceded, causing Gabriel’s lips to curl into a smile. He said nothing, kissing the back of Beelzebub’s shoulder instead. Of course, they could tell he was smiling right away. “What are you smirking about?”

“Well, it was-- pleasant, was it not?”

Gabriel felt their light snort more than he heard it. “Bragging already, are you?” they muttered, and turned in his arms to face him. Their skin was pleasantly warm. “Do I have to remind you who was leading?”

Of course, there was no need. It wasn’t often that Gabriel found himself in the position of having to look up at the Lord of the Flies, and he hadn’t minded the change. He hadn’t minded at all.

“Oh, I never tried to take credit.” Gabriel dropped a kiss on the bridge of Beelzebub’s nose, gaining himself a frown and a buzzing noise - but no attempt at all to shove him off them. He was dimly aware of the fact that there was a folder in Hell bearing his name which perhaps had just gained a sin in red ink, but he found he couldn’t even begin to feel concern.

“Next time,” Beelzebub was saying, “I’ll try the other set of genitalia.”

“Heh. So there will be a next time?”

The Lord of the Flies did shove him at that, flat onto his back, before they rolled on top of him. They propped themselves up on their elbows, which rested on his chest. It wasn’t the most comfortable predicament, but Gabriel’s muscles still felt like cooked asparagus and he wouldn’t have bothered to protest for anything short of being raked over hot coals.

“We both have researched a great deal more than what we have put in practice, and I don’t see why the time spent on it should go to waste,” they said, tilting their head. “Don’t you agree?”

A smile, and Gabriel dared tilt up his head to try and catch their lips again. He missed, and his mouth rested briefly on their throat instead before he pulled them down against his chest.

“I do,” he murmured. “Wholeheartedly.”

***

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” --Jeremiah 17:9

***

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