fandomhigh | Fandom Library, Wednesday, April 16th

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Fandom Library, Wednesday, April 16th

Fortunately, Arden's headache from yesterday had gone away, so she was back at her post behind the circulation desk, poking at her phone. She'd tried on a bunch of dresses in her closet this morning, snapping selfies of each of them, and now she was flipping through each one, trying to figure out which dress she should wear Friday night.

And sometimes checking her phone to make sure she hadn't missed a message from Gray about how...his weekend...had gone.

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"Oooh!" Arden said, opening the box to check it out. "That looks delicious! Did he say why?"

While she silently reminded herself that this wasn't a trick or a trap to catch her in an obligation. This was Raiden.

"You said something about it on the radio yesterday," Gray said with a shrug. "Next week could you say something about chocolate chip waffles?"

Raiden had the 'feed people' gene, it was known.

"Will I actually get any chocolate chip waffles if I mention them?" Arden, who hadn't been born yesterday, asked him.

While also pulling out a few slices of pizza for herself and wordlessly gesturing for Gray to help himself if he wanted to.

"Maaaaaaaaaybe," Gray allowed, trying to select a slice of pizza without too much runny yolk (Gray, that's the best part). "It depends on how many waffles are involved. And it's Raiden, so."

There would definitely be many, many waffles. "I'll see if I can work it in," Arden promised. She took a few bites of the pizza (mmm, runny egg, delicious) before finally asking, "So, uh...how did your trip home go...?"

Gray took a tiny pizza box out of his pocket and offered it to the nearest squirrel. "Reporter's Special," he said, and the squirrel snapped it open and inspected the rodent-friendly toppings on a nut flour crust, then snapped the box shut and scampered off with it. "Ray's gonna be so proud they're consuming something other than booze," he said, although Ray was, of course, also going to want to know why he'd needed a Reporter's Special later.

Once he was sure the squirrel was gone he turned back to Arden, his shoulders slumped. "So he doesn't want to know," he sighed. "I told him, you know, no spoilers but I think you need to be prepared for this. He thinks nothing destiny has in store for him could be that bad, and I reminded him we were cursed before we were ever conceived, and he said that was different, and then I gave up because I realized I was talking to Pride more than Alastair and there was no use." He flopped into a chair. "I should have gone with my first idea of, 'Hey, Al, what's the worst possible person you can think of for your soulmate?'"

Arden snorted at that. "Ten bucks says he still wouldn't have guessed," she said. "Because that would require acknowledging him as a possibility in the first place and why would you? Or why would he, I guess."

"Lucifer," Gray allowed. "Lucifer would be worse." He was reasonably sure Lucifer's had been Azazel, though, not that he had ever dared to ask Alastair about this theory. His father was the only person Alastair was less willing to discuss than Lucifer. "Not...not Lucifer at the bar. Actual Lucifer."

Lucifer at the bar was an actual Lucifer, Gray.

"I think he sort of...I mean, he doesn't know, but something is getting around that seal with the stupid telepathy thing, and he kept saying 'he' when he was talking about his hypothetical fated mate, and he's bi, so." He shrugged. "Maybe it was already too late." Unless he stabbed the angel in the face. So, so tempting.

Edited 2025-04-17 02:03 (UTC)

Now, now, not until after the war. In that lovely small window between 'defeating Lucifer' and 'the bond sets in,' that was when you stabbed him in the face.

Several times.

"Too late?" Arden asked. "You think even that much might have started the fated mate wheels turning?"

"I don't know," Gray admitted. "No one really understands this stuff. It's just...ugh. I don't wanna talk about it any more. Are you going to the dance this weekend?" Real smooth segue there.

"I'll be there," Arden confirmed ~~though who knows how much because I've got a crazy weekend coming up~~, just going along with that segue. "I was trying to figure out which dress I wanted to wear when you came in bearing pizza."

She held out her phone. "Wanna see?"

"Sure!" Gray said. "As long as you don't expect me to know anything about fashion." He didn't think she did, on account of how she had seen him on a regular basis. He was wearing slide sandals with socks and baseball shorts, for the gods' sake.

"Gray, I love you to pieces, but the closest you get to fashion is your Converse collection," Arden pointed out, leaning over the desk to see which ones he was sporting now.

And saw the socks with sandals. "Oh my god, I know you're like one billion years old, but do you have to dress like an old man?"

"Lacing up my shoes was too much effort this morning," Gray defended himself. "Blame Sloth!" A likely story.

"And Sloth also couldn't bother to take your socks off after deciding the swap to sandals was necessary?"

Pull the other one, Gray, it has bells on it.

"You know, some days I can't even get out of bed."

This was demonstrably not one of those days. He'd gone and gotten the pizza and brought it back to her. And he'd done it while dressed like he'd rolled through a laundry pile.

"...and I didn't want my feet to get cold."

"And the baseball shorts are because fuck your knees, they can get as cold as they want?"

They were gonna boot you out of the Hot Twink Club if you weren't careful, Gray.

"Yeeeees?"

Gray's place in the Hot Twink Club was signed, sealed, delivered, and he knew it, which was part of the problem with his wardrobe, the other part being his need to be constantly nap-ready. It was...a thing.

"But we're not talking about my shorts, we're talking about your dress! For the dance!" Deflect, deflect, deflect.

"Right, right," Arden said, giving his ensemble one last side eye (this was why you always wanted a sister, right?) before pulling her phone up to swipe through some pictures to show him.

"There are a bunch, so feel free to only swipe through as many as you wanna," she said, sliding the phone over to him.

But, seriously, she wasn't kidding. There were a lot of potential dresses for him to go through.

Not being the baby any more was coming with some unforeseen consequences.

"...if your favorite color is yellow you can never tell Castor," was Gray's take after looking through all of these dresses. "We will never hear the end of it."

"It's a color I look good in," Arden laughed. "My favorite colors are dark blue and deep green. So that's...Daman and... who's blue, again?"

"Light blue is me," Gray said, but she already knew that. "Bellamy is like. Blue blue. He says it's 'royal blue' and we say that's just blue."

"...Oh," Arden said, flushing a bit at the Bellamy connection.

No reason.

"Anyway," she said hastily, "Castor can just preen that I look great in yellow."

Ugh, Lust. It was such a thing.

Gray swiped through the options some more before saying, "This one would make your boobs look great but it also looks like it might be uncomfortable." He made this sound like a paramount sin for a clothing item, which for a guy who might fall asleep in any position in any time, it was. "This one looks way more comfy, and it's kind of springy, too?" He guessed? He was trying to think fashion-y, okay?

"oooh, making good points." She looked at the yellow dress. "You don't think that it's too...much?"

"Arden," Gray said. "I'm a Deadly Sin. I don't know what 'too much' is."

"...Yeah, that's on me," Arden admitted. She eyed both dresses. "I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna end up choosing one at random tomorrow," she sighed.

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Fandom Library, Wednesday, April 16th

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