#Someone should take my sharpies away they are all going to die

[icechippies]

Proud of this one :)

Image description: Argos from The World of Mr. Plant wielding a chainsaw in deadly void 176 surrounded by white mushrooms. The words "give him back to me" are in the top right corner. Both Argos and the chainsaw are covered in a red substance that could either be blood or mushroom goop.

Once again, not really any specific context for this drawing other than I wanted to draw angsty fanart with blood. If anyone wants to write anything for this (or any of my art for that matter) feel free, you have my consent to do so.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Pinned Fanfiction Post! Updated 9/25/24.

Psst… there's a way to support my writing now (and thank you Kraiva, Som, Charlie, Flamia, Bree, and more who encouraged me to do it).

Fandoms:

The Magnus Archives

Malevolent (Podcast)

Deviser (Podcast)

I'm bad at updating this, my apologies! It's all on AO3, folks.

Latest:

Malevolent

BIG BANG: BUT IT BEATS THE DARKNESS AO3 || Tumblr

The Magnus Archives

"T" IS FOR TOMB - a bittersweet sad post-TMA one-shot AO3 || Tumblr

The Magnus Archives x Malevolent

CORRUPTED, chapter 24: Fogged. A Tim Stoker x The King in Yellow weird romance because I am strange. AO3 || Tumblr

Loads of Surrogate updates, as per usual. :) The last few:

Like Father - Faroe makes a dangerous decision

Message Received - Kayne bitching because we were too busy to write

Strained - the beginning of fallout from Faroe's choices.

Nightingale - Something with Arthur is very, very wrong.

FINISHED FICS:

(This needs some serious revision! For now, be sure to check my AO3 profile until I get this part cleaned up.)

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

AND EAT IT, TOO

The voice gets under his skin. Is it pleasing or terrifying? Inside his head or out? Is it even real, or is his still-human brain just cobbling monster-sounds into something he can comprehend? It’s impossible to get out of his head, whether literal or not. Doesn’t matter, though, because the answer Michael gives is a terrible one, and ends the same way: Gertrude could protect herself, Jon can’t, and he’s going to die for her sins.

Playlist available here.

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A THOUSAND WORDS

It’s coming, Jon. You know something is; something that itches, that nags, that hides just out of view. Our glorious future is coming.

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QUIT

It’s a stupid-drafty manor—huge, never properly lit, all its frippery fraying at the edges. It has literal skeletons in the walls. It has a foyer right out of Crimson Peak, an empty cement hole with crumbling cherubs in the back yard that might have once been someone’s idea of a pond, and a library with more cursed books than Gerry could shake a match at. The part of Gerry that once used Sharpies to blacken his eyebrows loves this place with a truly unholy passion. If only it didn’t belong to the reason the world was going to end.

Playlist available here.

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TULIPS IN SPRING

Martin crawled back into bed like he’d crawled through the burned-flesh hole in his heart, and knew he still loved Jon. Martin knew Jon loved him, too. Jon had thrown away godhood for him, like it hadn’t mattered. Maybe it hadn’t.Jon loved him, and that meant they could fix this.All Jon had to do was wake up.

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CRUCIBLE

Martin's been having dreams.He doesn't understand them. Surely, if Jon had ever looked like that, with unreal wings and a crown of spinning eyes, he would have remembered. But his memory isn't working as well as it should right now, and Jon never blinks. Martin is afraid.

Inspired by The Watcher’s Crown by @raynecreates

Note: this is angst. Somewhere Else goes very, very wrong.

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INSTANT NOODLES (crack fic)

At least his new hobby kept him occupied in the evenings, when too much time to think turned to wretchedness. It just so happened that much of his life was public. On the internet. As part of some gods-damned podcast. There were no words for how fascinated he was. This was his story—and yet it wasn’t. It was focused on Jon, for some bloody reason, which made no damn sense, since Jon showed up at the very end. Well. There was no accounting for taste.

Note: This is nonsense. Full apologies to Jonny and Alex, who are 100% the creators of my favorite podcast, The Magnus Archives. This is a work of fiction, etc. and so forth. Take it as the joke it's meant to be. Written because I wanted Jonah to suffer.

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SHORT STORIES FOR TMA APPRECIATION WEEK, 2023

Just what it says on the tin. Silliness, angst, and crossovers incoming.

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THIS DARK THING THAT SLEEPS IN ME - Rusty Quill Big Bang 2023

This is a DARK AU; it is not a kid-fic, though Jon is young. Bittersweet ending ahead. Spoilers for the whole show, though this is very much an alternate universe. In a world where the End won and Jonah Magnus is its Heart, the cycle of death and rebirth is a given: no one lives past thirty, the Other Fears scramble for scraps, and any infant without an Alignment—called Uncertain—has until the age of ten to be claimed, or they are sacrificed. Jon, an Uncertain child, knows things he shouldn’t, has memories he shouldn’t, and also has a purpose: apparently, he’s been called to do what no Aligned person can do and stop Jonah. Sometimes, there is no happy ending, only the right one. Jonah broke the promises he made to take over the world, and Jon is here to make it right. “I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?” ― Sylvia Plath

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MAGNUS ARCHIVES x MALEVOLENT CROSSOVER

I PREFER MY HEART TO BE BROKEN

Jon feels seen in a way he has not since the Panopticon, examined from cell to soul, from ankles to ego. Does that feel good or horrible? He doesn’t know. He tries to see into this thing, just a little, but just that glimpse is enough. Fear shortens Jon’s breath, shivers up and down his form, because this thing is a god.

Playlist available here

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MALEVOLENT (PODCAST)

BUT IT BEATS THE DARKNESS - Malevolent Big Bang 2024

Serial killer Wallace Larson has been murdering children for his ritual, and the cops won't stop him. Private investigators Parker Yang and Arthur Lester choose to get involved... and everything goes wrong. Interrupting the ritual leaves Parker missing, Arthur in chains, and a piece of the King in Yellow in Arthur's head. But this piece knows who he is, and knows what he wants: to complete his ritual and rule Earth. Unfortunately, Arthur is incredibly stubborn, maudlin over his missing partner (stupid Parker Yang), and John, it turns out, is not the only piece of the King seeking power right now. It's a race against time, and John has a heavy handicap. With Larson in pursuit, a trail of murdered victims in their wake, and a host whose body is failing, John is determined to win at any cost... even if the cost includes Arthur Lester.

"It may not be much light but it beats the darkness" ~ Charles Bukowski, The Laughing Heart NOTE BEFORE READING This is part one of a Darkthur fic. There is violence and bodily harm. This fic was written in tandem with Kraiva's IT MAY NOT BE MUCH LIGHT, and is intended to be read together, though both are standalone. For the fullest experience, read the corresponding chapter from each fic. We'll be linking the connected chapters in the end notes of each. The incredible art in chapters two and eleven are by @wurmeon. The breathtaking 3D models in chapter six are from @iconiccookie.

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WRONG - spoilers for part 43

There is a thread where it all went wrong. Where Arthur, lost, has lost his hope. Where John makes a choice to teach Arthur what it means to be human.

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HERETIC- an Oscar one-shot:

What road remains for a man whose purpose abandoned him?

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Blood and Sand:

When John Luke was nine, Parker stopped writing back. It took a while before John Luke was sure, before he allowed the worry to slither into his bones, and take flavor and color away, and leave only trembling cold behind. Parker had never been quiet this long. Something had happened. John Luke Yang wants his brother back. When he learns about a wish—offered by a god, in exchange for winning some kind of game—he's willing to leave everything behind in pursuit of it. But the Dreamlands are not safe, and the King in Yellow has gone mad. The Games are not designed to be survived. Luke has fallen into deep and dangerous waters. Fortunately, he won't be swimming alone.

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They Both Just Gotta Be Dicks (Intermezzo spoilers):

Not much surprises Kayne anymore. A melting Arthur manages.

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All that Glitters (crack-fic one-shot):

John and Arthur, Lester and Doe, going mano a mano against their greatest foe: 1970s Arkham bureaucracy.

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Fragile (Intermezzo spoilers):

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won. John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

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Double the Popcorn (Intermezzo spoilers):

You think there’s anyone I haven’t seen? Fucked around with? Followed? You think there isn’t a version of you I haven’t tweaked to be the very d-d-darkest you could be, with flesh in your fingernails and blood in your cheeks like a really fucked-up squirrel? I. Have tried. Them all. And pal… they don’t fucking work.

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God of Cowboys and Fools:

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done. He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality. Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

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SACRAMENT - an Oscar one-shot

Arthur and John are long gone from Oscar's life, and whatever they did has left more than one wound in the world. Oscar's is obvious. Scratch's is not. Oscar certainly hadn't planned on encountering the malevolent spirit ever again, but now that he has, he faces a choice.

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BOYO

Warning: this is a dark fic. I liked me boyo’s anger, and he was just scuttered enough to make this work. To join me hitting the prop, and hitting too much. To not know when it was time to stop, and to follow my lead as we went far beyond. Wasn’t quite perfect. Didn’t have the rhythm yet. But I knew he’d get it; musical lad, or I’m a whaler, and I’d get him singing my tune. The fool died, and my boyo stood there, panting, blood everywhere, and hit the body again just because. Fuckin’ beautiful, that was to see.

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THE INCIDENT - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

Arthur and John are in Arkham, getting their burgeoning P.I. business off the ground. And then Kayne asks for a favor, and everything goes to hell.

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TRY, TRY AGAIN - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

The King in Yellow worked for a month to get Arthur to spill the information he wanted. Eventually, he got what he wanted through a made-up Bostonian, Adam Fry. What happened in the month before Arthur woke?

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CONFESSION

There’s a trick to confession, if you want to keep another from hearing what you said. But not hearing it don’t make it not true, don’t make it go away.

I fear Arthur’s truth, so big and bright. I fear ours together may strike like flint and leap into devouring flame.

An Oscar one-shot

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PEDANTIC

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed. The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new. Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out….

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PET

Arthur loses John. Hastur loses Arthur. Yellow does not deserve what happens here.

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PUSH

They survived. John got his promised body. They're free. But Arthur is still blind, and now, he no longer has someone in his head, helping him around. He's not all right. It's all coming out of him in anger. Today, John needed a break... and, left alone, Arthur tries a four-legged substitute. It goes about as well as can be expected.

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NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Angst warning Things happen when we age. Unavoidable things. Until death do we part.

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CLOUD CITY - MALEVOLENT BIG BANG 2023

The sun never rises in Cloud City. Owned by distant gods, the world creaks along in techno-magical paralysis, making Contracts with spirits, and limping along in isolated enclaves while monsters run wild in the Wastes. Five years ago, Arthur Lester, a private investigator, made a Contract with a Summon called Hastur. The deal? His soul in exchange for the identity of his daughter's murderer. Until the time Arthur's soul is ripe for harvesting, Hastur will give him power, and eventually must find Faroe's killer. If he doesn't, they both die, so failure is not an option. Hastur, however, is not a normal Summon... and it turns out he's come here and chosen Arthur in order to stop a threat that will destroy the entire universe if it succeeds. Unfortunately, humans aren't meant to channel power like Hastur's, and Arthur's body is beginning to break down. It's a race against time to solve Faroe's murder and stop the incoming threat before he simply drops dead.

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YELLOW CITY - A CONTINUATION OF CLOUD CITY

Arthur Lester has been taken by the King into the Dreamlands. Arthur Lester has gone quite mad. As promised, Arthur will suffer… but his presence will have a bigger effect on the future of Earth than anyone planned.

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PUSH

They survived. John got his promised body. They're free. But Arthur is still blind, and now, he no longer has someone in his head, helping him around. He's not all right. It's all coming out of him in anger. Today, John needed a break... and, left alone, Arthur tries a four-legged substitute. It goes about as well as can be expected.

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THE BIRTHDAY SONG

Very much post-canon. Very much fluff. John has a body. Arthur has his sight. They've figured it out, working in Arkham, making their way through life, and John, at last, has chosen his birthday. It's all fluff from here, folks.

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WORTH THE PRICE OF A BOTTLE OF POP

So, anybody want a crack-fic with Kayne, Arthur, and too much sugar even for an Outer God?

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FIVE TIMES JOHN WANTED TO SEE A MOVIE, AND ONE TIME KAYNE MADE IT SUCK

In which Arthur struggles with right and wrong, bemoans the Hays Code, tries (and fails) to define love, and gets a second chance.

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SURROGATE

The beginning of the series, Surrogate: The Director's cut.

The King in Yellow has a plan. The first part works, and Arthur Lester is broken. The second half blows up in his face. John has gone mad, and Hastur’s adopted daughter is upset, but that’s not all. It turns out a certain Outer God wasn’t done watching that show, and when he arrives with director’s notes, not even the King in Yellow can refuse him.

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DEVISER (PODCAST)

DEVIL

Dad knew he'd failed with humans. Dad did not know he'd succeeded somewhere else.

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RED

Son likes painting. Son likes red.It makes him feel some odd things. Things he doesn’t really have a word for. He really likes the way it looks splattered on his hands.

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[strawberrynamedmaria]

if i dont see tommorrow

If i don't see tomorrow

If I don't see tomorrow,  don't feel sad or guilty.

 You didn’t feel anything when I was giving signs why feel anything now, because Im gone, no don't feel remorse, feel glad this is what you wanted right , might well declare victory. You fought so hard to make me feel like shit might as well be excited that I am 6 feet in the ground.  Your name is written on the bullet that is in my head, do you want you to look at the autopsy , when they pull the bullet out my brain  see right there in sharpie your name, i wonder do you know what you were doing this whole time. All these years did you know that every hurtful word you said to me was going to get too much and i the golden child   was going to die the next night. While everyone was asleep I died and yes i was at fault.. But deep down you knew it was your fault that I could not continue on with life, so I lay down to finally feel peace within my mind. Was all the meds worth it, was it really worth me feeling incompetent. Why drug the children in the world but when they get over the age of 18 take away the medication so that they could actually feel how the world cards will be dealt , having to deal with all the emotions after feeling numb so that we are looking for something to help with the pain of overflowing emotions.  But then we get labeled as drug addicts because we grew up on pills to think that we are sick but that's not even what makes it the worse thing. It's the fact that we feel like we can't be good anymore that is why there is so much we can’t deal with because this world thinks that we need pills for everything. But that is not the topic we should be on right its the fact that i am the only one that can help solve the mystery of my own death, well what all have you came up with at this point, because this wouldn’t of been important if someone didn’t push the issue. The one that is pushing the issue is the one that normaling wants to know the truth so they keep looking but the one they should be looking for is in the ground , that would be the only truth. 

But i will see you again if its in hell or heaven. 

Or even in another lifetime

 By; strawberrynamedmaria

[selinakidreams]

hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee​ @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam. 

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order. 

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you. 

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste. 

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one. 

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.  

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off. 

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze. 

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest  felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.  

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.`` 

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around. 

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?” 

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks. 

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it. 

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.” 

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.” 

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door. 

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds. 

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts. 

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling. 

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied. 

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name. 

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with. 

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first. 

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor? 

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone. 

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable. 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood. 

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him. 

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter. 

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes. 

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.” 

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to. 

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?” 

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words. 

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale. 

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up. 

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout. 

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill. 

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward  any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements. 

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.”  Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch. 

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. 

Oh fuck. 

You felt yourself throb. 

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.” 

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed. 

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms. 

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you. 

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you. 

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?” 

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.” 

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?” 

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.” 

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 “So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest. 

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again. 

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know. 

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same. 

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp. 

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips. 

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body. 

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back. 

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you. 

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush. 

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

 He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his. 

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly. 

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it. 

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body. 

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic. 

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of. 

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling. 

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox. 

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned. 

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again. 

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

 “I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly. 

This was going to be fun. 

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch. 

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.” 

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name. 

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance. 

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out. 

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out. 

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you. 

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy. 

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..” 

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him. 

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

[popculturebuffet]

Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers Part 3: Storkules in Duckburg! aka THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES TERRIBLE BUT WELL MEANING ROOMATE OUT OF MYTH

Hello all you happy people! And welcome and welcome back to Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my look at the season 2 arcs of Ducktales! This arc was paid for by WeirdKev27 and I truly enjoy his support. if you want to know how to commission your own reviews or to get a guarnateed review of me of your choice from me a month, stick around to the end. I realized that shoving all my plugs in up top may be driving people away and while I DO make them because I want to make a living off this, i’ts not fair to those of you who simply can’t afford to buy a lot of extra shit like myself to keep shoving it in your face. 

Previously on the Louie Inc Arc, Louie, after believing he had no skills and it was a matter of when not if he ws going to die, found his talent: seeing all the angles and thus being Sharper than the Sharpies. With newfound confidence and a chip on his shoulder from Scrooge saying he could one day be a bigger success than Scrooge himself, founding Louie Inc as a result. But what is Louie Inc? Does he actually have a plan or a bunch of buzzwords. And what does STORKULES, MANLY GAY OUT OF MYTH have to do with any of this? Join me under the cut to find out. 

We open with Louie giving Scrooge his sales pitch that is essentially...

Naturally Scrooge buys none of it. I mean he’s somewhere in his hundreds, he’s probably seen about 80 thousand pitches that amount to “I have no plan but give me money anyway”. There’s a reason there’s a Butch Hartman shaped crater on the lawn from where he threw his ass out. 

Scrooge does mentor the lad, or at least attempt to pointing out he needs an actual product or service (Louie rejects the idea of a lemonade stand as too easy), or as he puts it “Find a problem and create a solution”. 

While the basic PRINCIPAL isn’t bad, find something people want or need and provide it, phrasing it that way sounds like “find a problem people are having and exploit the shit out of that problem for fun and profit.” Granted that IS a guiding principal of business, it’s just not something an uncle should be teaching his kids. They should be teaching them about the anime and cartoons they grew up with as I do with my niece and nibling. 

He does show him a valid example of this in action in the form of Donald. Turns out Donald has found a good way to make money while he looks for a job, can relate: since Duckburg is facing a housing shortage, likely because several square blocks probably get destroyed by Scrooge’s Adventures, Glomgold’s Schemes, Superhero Battles, whatever creation went horribly wrong for Gyro, etc at least once a week. So he’s taken it upon himself to offer up the spare room to whoever can rent it.. and to steal Scrooge’s chandelier which even when caught he still takes anyway. Scrooge.. you called the guy a god-damn moocher in the season premiere, despite the fact he lives there soley because YOU offered and because he’s you know, being responsible and staying by his boys so they have their father figure around. So yeah I feel he’s doing this partly out of spite as is the McDuck way. I mean if your going to call him a freeloader just for being a responsible parent, then he’s going to take it up a damn notch.

Scrooge proceeds to laugh off Louie wanting a million dollars and gives him a dime instead because of course he was. Seriously Louie there are two other billionaires in town who are FAR dumber and far more easily swindled. Just go get star up capital from them. Hell with Glomgold all you’d have to do is tell him it’d upset scrooge and he’d literally throw money at you. Or give you a shark full of money. He needs the shark back though. He’s family. 

Meanwhile Donald prepares for his new tenant and finds.. THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES! Who to his mounting horror as he realizes it, IS the new tenant. And who throws him into the sun. Cue credits. 

So after Donald somehow survives being thrown into the sun, Storkules explains why he’s here: Zeus responded to his son playing the lute a lot like any rational reasonable 

No of course he responded to the “crime” of “playing his instrument a lot” with sending a swarm of harpies on the town then blaming Storkules for it and casting him out. What’s most shocking is not the action, this is honestly him staying the course of being a fucking disgrace, but that Zeus somehow ISN’T the biggest asshole i’ve dealt with this week. No that honor is reserved as always for this bitch:

Keep in mind she manages to be this obnoxious in only TWO scenes. Also keep in mind I had to put up with Julie for a MUCH larger chunk of the previous two volumes I covered before volume 5 yesterday for my Scott Pilgrim Retrospective and she is ALWAYS like this and you now feel my pain. 

This does create a problem though: Zeus casts Storkules out until he’s a responsible adult.. and thus paints Storkules as the bad guy... in a situation where the only other person in the story sent a swarm of HARPIES down at him for simply playing his music too loud. It just dosen’t work as a catalyst: Storkules objectively did nothing wrong. The only person he annoyed was a person who clearly dosen’t love, respect or like his son in any way shape or form anyway and essentially assaulted him and a bunch of innocent people via harpie and then cast him out. Zeus is an abusive asshole and i’ts weird the narrative sides with HIM and not our well meaning doofus. Zeus being an asshole with harpies is not a bad catalyst for the episode, and the harpies being unleashed is used well.. it’s just not a good catalyst for THIS story to try and portray an abuser as in the right. And make no mistake Zeus is a domestic abuser: he had his son mind controlled to try and MURDER innocent people, something Storkules begged him not to do, sent a swarm of creatures after him for the crime of playing his music too loud and in his next episode manipulatives Storkules sad emotional state for personal gain. Why would you try and paint THIS jackass as in the right?

Speaking of painting this jackass in the right sadly.. this episode does not do my boy donald justice. In most episodes he’s pretty nuanced and i’ts fair enough he’d be frustrated by Storkules as a roomate. Storkules has little sense of personal space, breaks his stove thinking theirs hydra in it, makes a mess of the kitchen making them a meal, and in general clearly dosen’t know how to live with a roomate much less in modern society. He has valid concerns and the episode COULD have used it that way.. but he’s also horribly impatient with Storkules. He refuses to get the guy just hasn’t had to live in a modern society and dosen’t know HOW to function in it and instead of helping him just gets mad again and again and gets really pissed when it’s clear Storkules dosen’t have a job and didn’t consider paying rent. He’s not WRONG to want him to pay Rent, despite what ironically the musical Rent would try and have you believe, but he dosen’t have any patience with the guy. And stork isn’t nearly coming on as strong as he normally does. The worst he does is cook the guy lunch and bring his donald fan art with him. Which we don’t see but I am assuming is mostly naked. What i’m saying is for once that while still bombastic, Storkules isn’t trying to force a relationship/friendship on him and simply wants to learn t be an adult from his best friend.. and Donald isn’t bothering teaching him.

Asking for rent or for him not to destroy the stove is fine, but not explaining WHY he needs either of those things or why he needs boundaries, he makes a roomate list, isn’t helping the guy. And this would be fine... but the episode dosen’t call Donald out on it for no real reason. It feels like it’s setting up for a “you should learn to wokrk with someone instead of just screaming at them aseop” that never comes and like with Zeus takes his side because shutup. I’d also LIKE to say this is the only time the writers reduced one of the cast to a caracture of themselves.. but I can’t.  Several episodes in season 3 forgot Louie’s character development and another episode in season 2, The Duck Knight Returns!, somehow reduced both Scrooge and Dewey to parodies of themselves with Scrooge SOMEHOW, despite Della as stubborn as she is being in his care and by his side for decades and Movies bein ga huge business, not having seen a movie since the 1920′s and not knowing how they work and Dewey being reduced to just hyperactive moron. It isn’t as common as other shows like say Regular Show, The Loud House or, for the exact reason I lost intrest, Rick and Morty, but I still expect better, especially since they went into this season KNOWING Donald would be gone for half of it and this would likely be one of his only spotlight episodes. 

Back at the good part of the plot, Louie is having a company meeting aka already treating Huey and Webby like his employees. Webby of course is glad to sign on, if little help in actually coming up with a product while Huey just wants to nope out. And if your wondering why Dewey isn’t involved Louie outright says he’d make a bad employee and while Dewey rises from his bed to object.. he stops halfway to opening his mouth and concludes he has a point. Best gag of the episode. Louie being louie easily cons Huey into staying by making Webby his charts officer. 

So the three have a corporate retreat at Funso’s... granted they don’t have a product but Louie figures this might help. Huey.. still wants out of this and suggest since they already spent what they had on ski ball “Company over?”. It’s clear that Huey just sees this as another one of Louie’s short sighted schemes... and while he’s not ENITRELY wrong, Louie has genuine ambition.. he just has no earthly idea what he’s doing and is shooting way too high.. but for understandable reasons. 1) He’s 11 at this point. 11 year olds aren’t great at business strategy or reinging it in. 2) he wants to live up to what Scrooge said to prove he can be successful and really be worth something like his mom was. 

But sometimes fate throws you one and the harpies bust in. And while Louie wants to do nothing and hope they go away Huey and Webby spring into action.. as does Storkules, who had to leave but warns donald there’s Orzo in the slowcooker and to not open it “LEST THE PASTA FAIL TO ABSORB THE BROTH!” Which is just.... Chris’ best line dleivery the episode. He says it like he’s saying the title of an old Stan Lee and Jack Kirby comic, i’ts wonderful.

So our heroes defeat them and Louie steps in to charge for the service and quickly comes up with a company idea and name “Harp-B-Gone” (A Subsidary of Louie Inc). Louie hires Storkules on the spot. Storkules proudly tells Donald he has a job the next day and goes off to it. What follows is our heroes hilarously shooting a commerical with Storkules playing a baby to promote themselves so they can help who needs it. They just need to find out what they want.. and thanks to the JWG and the harpies stealing it find out they go after people’s most treasured posessions   Cue Ghostbusters-Style Montage

And this isn’t just me saying thing. The Rewriting History Entry (Which as a series weirdly stops around mid-season 2 and I don’t get why frank hasn’t gone back and finished it since) states they specifically based this whole operation on ghostbusters and the entire sequence of our heroes cleanin up the town reminds me of it. The highlight of it is a glomgold cameo where he’s kidnapped.. and refuses to pay so Louie just lets him go. And were this an innocent person who couldn’t afford it, i’d call him a monster.. but it’s glomgold. he brought this on himself.. and also sues himself for it. Wonder if he won. 

So with their stars rising, our heroes get booked on the hottest show in town: Dewey Dew-Night! I had honestly forgotten there was a Dewey Dew-Night segment in there, and delighted I get to talk about this recurring bit.  It’s one of the shows funniest runners and just perfectly FITS Dewey: of course the most egotistical and energetic of the kids would not only want to be a late hnight host but make up his own show. I also love the slow evolution of it: it started as something everyone clearly knew about but he stlill tried to keep hidden, slowly escalated to him allowing the rest of his siblings (Webby very much included) and the giant man who stalks his uncle in, and by later this season he’s putting the show online in the web shorts and gladly shooting it into space, with Season 3 having him spend the first half of let’s get dangerous making a documentary that includes an episode of the show featuring Darkwing. It’s a small thing sure, but it’s the little things like this that make the show special. 

The show does reveal a problem though as it turns out they’ve GOT all the harpies and while Storkules merely wanted to help, Louie points out they need more to keep a buisness going and naturally never bothered to ask Storkules just how many there were. They need SOME plan to get going. Webby submits a legitamte and great idea, training the harpies as she’s been trying to do in the background of the episode and aside from a hole in the floor they are starting to listen. But Huey is an ass about it and not only shoots it down saying let’s keep the dangerous creatures contained, even though A) he has no idea WHERE they’ve been kept so he can’t verify it’s safe, and since i’ts Donald’s Closet no no it’s not. and B)There’s no where he knows of to keep them. He isn’t aware of the other bin till next season. and C) it’s not ehtical to keep creatures locked up forever epsecially since while the harpies are dangerous they arent’ MALEVOLENT and are clearly acting on instinct. oh and for D) at least she has a plan to keep the company going instead of just wanting to end this and cash out. 

Which Huey tries to.. but naturally Louie spent all their money on...

So their broke.. and Storkules has no rent money and feels like a failure despite having done NOTHING wrong. We do get a clever little nod to Disney’s hercules though “I”m not a hero, i’m a zero”. Webby rightfully glares at Louie who decides to fix it... by sneaking into Donald’s house that night to free the harpies. 

Though to the shows credit it’s a VERY bad idea, and Storkules coming in mid attempt and congradulating Louie when he lies about checking the door gets the kid to come clean. And it’s a nice character moment: He could still go through with it.. but it’s clear he realizes just HOW low he was about to sink to save his own skin and that as much as Storkules WANTS a paycheck and deserves one, it’s not worth hurting people to get it. Louie tries to justify after this.. but can’t. 

Unforutnately Donald took a lot of stupid pills this episode, yells about his no pets rule and frees them instead of you know, THINKING for five minutes.

So yeah NATURALLY Donald is an angry shit about it , refusing to actually TALK to Storkules about this or maybe admit this is partly HIS OWN FAULT. Yes their both at fault, Storkules shoudln’t of shoved a bunch of harpies in a closet. That’s a classic blunder. But Donald still opened it and isn’t called out on taking zero responsibility. Huey sees the fracas and just takes down their days without an accident placard, good stuff and he and webby arrive to help. Donald fights with Storkules and Storkules worries about loosing his friend.. lead to them going after the thing he values most aka donlad and hyjacking the house boat, though the kids manage to get aboard. 

As Storkules saves Donald, Louie realizes the most precious thing he has is  his merch and willingly gives it, and his buisness up to save everyone. It’s good character stuff and shows that despite his problems with greed, Louie IS a good kid and will do the right thing. It’s what seperates him from the Rouges Gallery the family faces: He has FLEXIBLE morals but he has morals when it comes down to it. So everyone tosses the stoff to help direct the hapries and make it home tying them up. Donald has a heart to heart with Storkules and agrees to help him find another place, but still considers him a friend and they hug. Awww.  One intresting thing I DID find out from rewriting history is they originally fully intended to have Storkules STAY on the houseboat. He was going to be a permenant member of the household, at least as far as Season 2 was concenred and plans were made for several episodes down the road: the whole bit with him in “The Golden Spear” was simply because he lived there, he was going to be the one Della met in the houseboat, obliviously guilting her about what she’d missed, and he was going to set off the kids subplot in “Whatever Happened to Donald Duck?”

This ended up not happneing for logistical reasons: Frank, and I swear this was the term he used, felt they already had the perfect Himbo in Launchpad and it was just too much HImbo energy for the two to coexist without one taking the others screen time or neither getting a lot. 

The next reason was having a god around simply broke the story: He cited the gilded man from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” as a specific example. There were just too many hoops to jump to have him not break any story he should be around for.  Finally with Della being added to the cast soon there simply wasn’t room in the main cast. Della brought it up to 9, Storkules would make it 10, and as i’ve gone on about the show already had trouble ballancing it’s cast, something Frank admitted to. Adding him would both be too big a stiatus quo change and be one on top of the massive one of Della joining the cast. So he was dropped back to recurring and only showed up one more time. And while it was the right call I am dismayed he didn’t show up for the whatever happened to donald duck subplot and it does feel very weird he never adresses Donald being gone despite, at least for season 2, apparently living in Duckburg. Otherwise though as funny as this wouldv’e been.. yeah it was the right call. 

Scrooge returns... having been absent all episode because otherwise it wouldn’t work and easily saw Louie loosing it all coming.. but gives him a can of lemonade for his troubles and comforts the boy. The heart of htis arc and what makes it work at it’s best.. is these two. Scrooge GENUINELY wants to help Louie see his potetial successor in buisness: oh sure adventure wise he’s throughly covered.. but Webby, Dewey and Della all are more focused on the addventure part and that’s where their passion and talent lies, Huey’s better at science and given his close frinedship with fenton and how much that part of things seems to truly inspire him, i’ts what he was born for, and Donald just wants a regualar life and can’t manage his own life much less a company. 

Louie is the only one in his family whose the right fit to inhereit that part of his legacy and I feel that’s why he takes a special intrest in him and webby over the other two: While he loves all of them and will clearly again leave a piece of his fortune and empire to all of them, Webby is the most like him, as we later find out not coincidentally in the slightest, when it comes to adventuring and curosity and a love of exploration. But Louie is the most like him in other ways; He’s cynical, money driven and passionate. Scrooge simply wants him to be as good a person and buisnessperson as he can be and is trying to push him in the right direction. And does so here by pointing out that failure isn’t a huge problem..it happens, comes with the terriotiry and as we’ve seen with life and times, even with portions of it clearly not happening in this universe, he failed a LOT to get here. What matters is that he tries and tries to do it the right way. 

Scrooge also sympathizes as he was buying a lemonade company in cape suzette, giving Louie the can as a present... but laments there’s no cheap effective way to deliver the lemons. Louie notices the harpies going after the can after he throws it and Webby controlling them with it and muses that theyd idn’t think about what THEY wanted.. nad rightfully gets punched across the lawn by Webby, whose had to spend an entire episode having her surrogate brothers talk down to her and ignore her valid ideas. She dosen’t even open her eyes she just bops him one.

So we end with Scrooge having enlisted the hapries, Louie trying to take credit again and both realizing they might just steal the lemons instead of work for them. Ha ha ha their going to get so sued. 

Final Thoughts: This one was mediocre. It has some good points, Louies arc continues to fascenate me, Huey’s done with this shit attitude is hilarous, and Storkules is at his best in this episode: his crush on Donald is toned down from this..

To this

To the point I could see shipping them off this one if Storkules episode didn’t have him do eveyrthing short of .. well see above.  So it’s not WITHOUT merit: I love me a ghost busters style plot, there are great jokes and Chris Dimatopolis is a gem as always. Glad he’s getting work after this show on Invincible and hope he gets to play Darkwing again some day. But the Donald stuff and the fairly predictable plot drag this one down. I’ts fairly obvious they’ll run out of harpies, Louie will have spent the money and they’ll somehow get free. It’s not a terrible episode but it’s it’s sandwiched story wise between two straight up classics on both sides: the previous two episodes were even better than I remembered and the next two are incredibly good: Whateve Happened to Della Duck?! is one of their finest hours and The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck, while not making my best of list for the series as a whole is still one of my favorites for the season.  It’s just disapointing this one wasn’t nearly as good as I remmebered and it’s understandable why I forgot almost all of it, unlike the previous two episodes. Thankfully as I said better’s over the horizon.

NEXT TIME ON OF MOONS, MILLIONARES AND MOTHERS: I’m taking a break for a week. One of two weeklong breaks for the arc, the other being the first week of July where i’m on vacation anyway (Though i’ll be doing the episode I would’ve done for that week the week before to keep the pace up, so no worries),

 As for why, it’s my utmost honor to announce GOOF WEEK! Goof Week is a weeklong celebration of Goofy’s birthday. The idea came about because as I do for the big three, I intended to just do a shorts special. But Kev , the guy who made this very review possible, suggested doing the two part Goof Troop pilot. And since kev pays for a house of mouth episode a month anyway and thaks to you lovely people I hit my patreon stretch goal to review the goofy movie, I figured “why not make a week out of it. Hence Goof week. So next week we’ll have a review of the two part pilot for Goof Troop, the special Sports Goof, the House of Mouse episode Super Goof, your regularly schedule shorts spectacular, with The Goofy Movie for the grand finale! yaaahoooooieeee! 

When we come back i’ll be shuffling episodes around slightly so I can do the Della comics from the Ducktales Tie-In Comic before her debut and in time for Donald’s own theme week in June, i’ll be saving “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?” for the week after Donald Week. Instead next we get a fun wild west adventure as Scrooge tells a story of his outlaw days, his tension with goldie and his encounter with a certain robber baron as John D Rockerduck FINALLY makes his screen debut. Yee-Haw!

If you liked this review, subscribe and follow for more and consider joining my patroen, patreon.com/popculturebuffet. I have exclusive reviews, my most recent duck based one being an obscure carl barks story about wigs and the boys attempting to murder a guy with a blow gun, and your contribution helps me reach my goals and thus gets everyone, patreon or not, a bunch of neat new reviews. If you get me to 20 dollars a month, i’m currently at 15, EVERYONE will get a monthly darkwing duck reviews, reviews of the two remaning ducktales 87 mini series including the origin of GIZMOOOODDUUUUUCCCKKKK, and a review of the Danny Phantom movie The Ultimate Enemy. And with the month running out NOW’S the time to join. YOu’ll also get to pick one of the shorts for my Donald Duck birthday specail next month, so if you want to join in NOWS the time. But wether you can or you can’t, thank you for reading, i’ts been a pleasure. 

[stolethekey]

i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side

hello! this is for the (final!) @b99fandomevents—i can’t believe how far these two (and this show) have come, and i’m gonna miss them so much. i got to write this for @amydancepants-peralta, who wanted a fic where jake and amy have a disatrous first date, and then amy decides to transfer to chicago—jake has three days to convince her to stay.

enjoy! (you can also read this on ao3.)

It’s their first date, and it’s a disaster.

Neither of them has said anything in the ten minutes since they’ve sat down. Jake buries his nose into the menu, hoping that he looks occupied enough with choosing an entrée to excuse the heavy silence that has settled over the table. A few feet away, in the other side of the booth, Amy does the same thing.

A young man in a pressed suit and tie approaches their table, a small, nervous smile on his face. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Yes!” Amy nearly leaps at the chance to talk to someone who is not Jake. Jake tries not to feel too hurt by the desperate excitement in her voice. “I’ll take the chicken piccata, please.”

Jake lingers around the chicken parmesan but ends up going with a steak, because he’s determined to show Amy and maybe himself that he can eat like an adult. They pass their silk-embossed menus to the waiter, sip their waters, and suddenly it’s too quiet again.

“You got a haircut,” Jake notices, wringing his hands nervously under the table.

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

There is a beat of silence that stretches just a little too long, and then Jake says, “This is awkward.”

Amy chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Another moment passes. Jake swallows the non-existent saliva in his mouth. Their waiter, mercifully, returns with their food a few minutes later. Jake doesn’t want him to leave. He does, of course, and then they’re left in that terrible silence again.

Jake makes it through half his steak before speaking again. “Should we, um, just get really drunk?”

Amy grimaces, reaching for her water. “I don’t think so.” Her voice is quiet, almost defeated. “If we can’t do this sober, what’s the point?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Jake’s stomach, but he stabs his fork into his a piece of broccoli anyway. - It’s the day after their first date, and Amy asks for a transfer.

Jake learns about this through a wail from the evidence lockup that he hears from a good twenty yards away. He bursts through the door, frantic, to find Charles curled in a ball on the ground, rocking back and forth.

Charles gets out the details in between sobs, or at least enough details that Jake gets most of the picture. Amy put in a transfer to Chicago, it’s been granted on account of an emergency vacancy that needs to be filled, and she has three days left at the Nine-Nine.

“Three days,” Charles gasps, tears streaming out of his eyes. “Three days, you have to convince her to stay, Jake, you have to—”

“Hold on,” Jake says desperately, watching Charles dab at his face with a completely saturated tissue. “Let me get you another box of Kleenex.”

He opens the door to leave and runs straight into the source of Charles’s despair, in the flesh.

“Oh,” says Amy.

Jake closes the door behind him before Charles can see her and have a heart attack, then crosses his arms. “Is it true? Are you leaving?”

Amy has the grace to look self-conscious, shuffling her feet and shoving her hands in her pockets. She nods, and Jake feels strangely like the walls are swimming around him.

It just makes sense, she says. She has family there, and New York is too crowded, too expensive, and maybe Chicago is a better place to live anyway.

“Is this because of me?” Jake demands. “Because of…you know…our date?”

“No, of course not.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

Jake scoffs before stalking past her into the bullpen, ignoring her half-hearted call of his name. He blinks back the hot, furious tears forming in his eyes, and internally he starts a calendar. - On Day One, Jake calls in sick to work.

He responds to the “r u ok??” texts from Charles, Rosa, Gina, and Terry with a copy-and-pasted “I’m ok. Just feeling gross.” He ignores the ones that mention Amy. He also pretends like he doesn’t notice that Amy hasn’t sent him anything.

The morning is spent mindlessly scrolling through his social media beneath his blankets, with no regard for time or his grumbling stomach.

At noon, Charles posts a picture of the squad from Halloween with the caption “Gonna miss my favorite Halloween-hater. #SayonaraSantiago.” Jake decides he’s had enough Instagram for the day and finally hauls himself out of bed.

He orders a pizza, then turns his phone off and the TV on. Inadvertently, the pizza becomes both lunch and dinner and one Die Hard movie becomes a marathon—and before he knows it, the sky outside his apartment is dark.

“Well, that was productive,” Jake mutters, brushing the pizza crumbs off his lap before standing up to toss his trash into the garbage.

On Day Two, they aren’t talking to each other.

Amy looks up almost timidly as he walks out of the elevator, then waits until he reached his desk to let out a small, hesitant “Hi.”

Jake grabs the file waiting for him on his desk and walks out of the bullpen without looking at her.

So, strictly speaking, this is mostly his fault.

That fact does not do anything to quell the mixture of anger and hurt writhing in his stomach. He spends the day furiously completing paperwork in an empty interrogation room, jabbing his pen so furiously into the paper that he rips a hole in an I-918 and has to start over.

At noon, Rosa stops by with a turkey sub, which she drops wordlessly on the desk in front of him before sliding back out the door.

At five, he has completed more paperwork than he has in the last month combined. He drops the stack of files on Terry’s desk, forces a smile, and says, “Finally caught up on all those forms you’ve been hounding me about.”

Terry, his eyes piercing and slightly concerned, does not laugh. “Dismissed.”

It’s Day Three, and Holt has had enough.

He assigns Jake and Amy to label evidence in the lockup together, much to Jake’s chagrin. Amy turns and speeds off without a word. Jake turns towards Holt with a big, reproachful protest on the tip of his tongue but is cut off by Holt’s raised eyebrows and stern expression.

“Peralta, you need to get over yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to get over yourself,” Holt repeats. “Your partner of six years is leaving tomorrow, and you haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

Jake snorts, crossing his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, she’s leaving because of me, so—”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Holt says, not unkindly. “If you let her leave like this, you might never get the chance to talk to her again.”

Jake stares at the ground, furiously attempting to dig a hole in the ground with his toe.

“I know you don’t want this to be the way things end.” Holt’s voice is gentle, and Jake can’t bring himself to look up. “It would be unwise to let your pride get in the way of your last chance to save your friendship.”

“Whatever,” Jake mutters irritably, but something uncomfortable has begun to form in his gut. “Gimme that Sharpie so I can go write case numbers on a bunch of ziplock bags.”

Jake does not, in fact, get over himself—at least not for the first few hours. He chooses to instead label evidence in the same furious silence that has occupied his past three days, pretending he doesn’t see the furtive, almost timid glances Amy throws his way every few minutes.

Then he walks to a bodega for lunch and realizes mid-chew that this is Amy’s last lunch at the Nine-Nine, and the uncomfortable thing in his stomach grows a lot bigger.

He finally swallows his pride on his walk back to the precinct, and when he re-enters the evidence lockup the thing in his stomach has started feeling a lot more like guilt.

Amy walks in a few minutes after him, tossing a balled-up sandwich wrapper into the trash, and notices that he’s watching her. “You have something to say to me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jake says quickly. “I do.”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, and Jake’s heart sinks a little.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” Jake says. “For how I reacted, and for icing you out the past few days. It was immature of me, and stupid, and I should’ve been an adult about it, but—well, I guess we both know I suck at that sometimes.”

Amy snorts, but her expression has softened slightly. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jake continues, almost determinedly. “We’re gonna make this the best day you’ve ever had at the Nine-Nine.”

Amy laughs slightly. “I don’t think that’s possible, given the amount of work we have left.”

“Who cares?” Jake shrugs. “The best part of work has always been the people anyway.”

And for all the organizational skills Jake may lack, he sure knows how to delegate. All it takes is a couple text messages to a new, Amy-less precinct group chat and the rest of the Nine-Nine is off. Gina cashes in on a favor and gets Shaw’s to close its doors for the evening. Rosa makes a last-minute motorcycle trip to a local party store and uses a sizable amount of cash and her surprising aesthetic skill to acquire a large box of decorations. Charles says, “leave the food to me,” and no one is brave enough to question him about it.

Jake stays with Amy on the floor of the evidence lockup. They talk and laugh as they work, reminiscing about their years at the Nine-Nine and the particularly memorable perps they’ve brought in.

There’s also a supercut of the stuff that wasn’t work at all—the precinct parties, Charles saving Thanksgiving, the Boyle-Linetti wedding. There are the Halloween heists, the Jimmy Jabs, and there’s the Bet, with a capital B. Neither of them mentions the last one, but Jake is definitely thinking about it.

“Remember that time Terry tried to do the full bullpen and almost knocked a tooth out?” Amy asks, grinning widely. “I thought Sharon was gonna pull him out of the force immediately.”

“You have no faith,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I knew she’d let him stay.”

“You did not.” Amy points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You were so scared when she came to pick him up.”

“I was not—”

“So scared. I’ve never seen a grown man visibly tremble like that, but—”

“God, shut up.” Jake throws a balled-up piece of tape at her, and she laughs. It’s a real one, this time, one that’s bright and infectious.

They let it fade into a gentle silence, one that’s more comfortable than the ones of the past few days.

There’s a beat, and then Jake says, “Don’t go to Chicago.”

He expects Amy to be surprised by this change of subject—to recoil and give an affronted, “what?”

Instead, she sighs, long and slow, and closes the manila folder in front of her. “Jake—”

“I mean, I know it’s your decision, and I respect that,” Jake says quickly. “And if you truly meant what you said to me earlier, about how it’s important to be near your family and it’s a better place for you to live and you’ve grown out of New York—if that’s really the reason you’re leaving, then that’s fine. Just tell me, and I’ll shut up about it and we can just have a big blowout goodbye party and you can leave.”

Amy picks at the edge of her boot and says nothing.

“But if it’s not—if you’re leaving because of what happened on our date—I don’t want to be the reason you give this up, Amy. I know how much you love it here, and this place loves you too. Captain Holt is a phenomenal mentor to you, we both know that, and you might not get that in Chicago—you’ve done so much good work here that I know you’re proud of, and I can’t be the reason you don’t have that anymore.”

Amy looks at him, her eyes a stormy mix of unreadable emotions, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Jake says, splaying out his hands in front of him. “That date was kind of a disaster, we both know that. And I think it’s because we were both trying too hard, because we cared too much. Because we’re friends, Amy, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

He takes a deep breath, then says, “I don’t care if we never date. I don’t care if I never get to hug you, or kiss you, or do any of the things I’ve so desperately wanted to do. I just can’t lose your friendship. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and an even better friend, and I would be more than happy to just be friends with you for the rest of my life. God knows it’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve plenty,” Amy says softly.

Jake swallows the way that makes his chest flutter. “I’m just saying—I’m laying my cards all out on the table, here. I want you to stay, and I respect it if you don’t want that. But please don’t let me be the reason for you leaving.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Amy gives him a small, wistful smile that says everything Jake needs to hear.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Party at Shaw’s it is, then.”

Amy slaps the last label on a duffle bag, checks her watch, and stands. “I’m actually taking off early—I need to clear up some stuff at City Hall before I leave. I’ll meet you there?”

“Oh,” Jake says, a little dumbfounded.

Amy notices his expression and shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not—I mean, this has been settled for days, Holt knows, I was always leaving at three today. So it’s not, like, spontaneous, you know. I would’ve told you earlier, but—"

“I was being an ass. Yeah.”

Amy gives him that little sad smile again, and Jake wants to kick a wall. “I’ll see you at the bar,” she says, almost gently.

Jake forces a smile and nods. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” - When he pushes through the doors of his favorite bar a few hours later, Jake is expecting loud music, streamers, and—if Gina’s Instagram stories were credible—possibly Mario Lopez. Instead, the bar is completely empty.

There are no balloons, no decorations—the only set table is in the middle of the floor, and on it sits a pizza, two salads, and two glasses of water.

“What—what is this?” Jake mutters, mostly to himself.

“A dinner between two friends,” Amy says, emerging from behind the bar. She gives him a small, slightly nervous smile. “And if it goes well, a second date.”

Jake blinks.

“You were right,” Amy tells him, carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to the table. “Our friendship is the most important thing, here, and it means a lot to both of us. I mean, that’s why we were trying so hard in the first place, right? Neither of us wanted it to fail.”

Jake nods in silent assent, not trusting whatever his mouth would say if he let it.

“But it did fail. Miserably.”

“Uh-huh,” Jake says, somewhat stupidly.

“So the worst thing that could happen has already happened, and we’ve gotten through it. And I think—I think, now, having gone through the past few days, we know enough to give it another shot. As long as we set very clear boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Jake repeats. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yeah,” says Amy with a slightly amused smile. “So, we’re friends. Really good friends. And that’s what we have to protect, above anything. So this is not necessarily a date. It’s a dinner, and we’re a pair of very good friends who are gonna eat it. And if we want to, afterwards, we can decide to call it a date.”

“Can you do that?” Jake asks. “Label something a date after it’s already happened?”

“Who cares?” Amy smirks. “Since when have you followed rules?”

Jake swallows and shrugs.

“Anyway, if it’s awkward, or weird, then we move past it. It’s a slightly awkward moment between friends that doesn’t have to mean anything. No more silent treatment, no more rash decisions, just two friends who are still friends afterwards. Got it?”

“Afterwards,” Jake says slowly. “So—Chicago—”

“Yeah, I’m not going,” Amy says, her eyes sparkling. “That was a dumb thing I did to avoid this guy I went on a terrible date with.”

A broad grin starts to make its way across Jake’s face. “He sounds like he sucks.”

Amy laughs, then pulls out a chair and points at it. “So—pizza?”

The grin on Jake’s face softens into something smaller, something gentler. “Definitely.”

They each take a slice, then a bite, and Jake will never admit it—but it’s the best Meat Supreme he’s ever tasted.

[finiteuniverse13]

Bravo's Banned List

With the help of @bravo-four-seal-team, @@jayhalsteadfan-2417 and @rebelwrites, we made a list.

A list, posted on various walls throughout the Naval base, the plane and the cage room. About 1/3 of it is typed up, the rest is in hastily written pen. Made by Blackburn to try and corral Bravo. It's doing its best.

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Just so you're all aware, this is a 6.5-page document.

0: On the days of Adam and Swanny’s Death, leave the group be to remember them. I will not protect you.

1: Brock Is Not Allowed Coffee. No exceptions.

1.1: Do not leave Metal alone with Brock when Coffee is around.

2: Dick jokes are not required in briefings

3: If a single one of you bastards get between me and my coffee, we will be having issues

5: You made the dog sad; you die.

8: DO NOT GIVE THEM NERF GUNS

9: WHO THE HELL GAVE THEM WATER GUNS

9.1: STICKS DO NOT GIVE THEM STICKS THEY WILL PRETEND THEY ARE GUNS

10: Dirt bikes (don’t ask)

11: ARCHERY IS A BIG NO

12: FISHING. WHY AM I BANNING FISHING

13: Fire. That is all

14: KNIVES. WHY ARE YOU GIVING THEM KNIVES?

15: LADDERS (NEVER AGAIN)

16: PLASTIC CUTLERY ONLY UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES GIVE THEM METAL CUTLERY

16.1: Scratch that, they stab people with the metal cutlery. Let them suffer the consequences of their actions. They can eat with their hands.

17: MEMES ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE MEETING ROOM

18: Horse riding. (METAL IT IS NOT A TACTICAL DISMOUNT ITS CALLED FALLING AND GETTING A CONCUSSION)

19: BOY BANDS (not allowed to be played on the plane)

19.1: GIRL BANDS (for the love of god, they will try and imitate them)

19.2 RAP MUSIC (they think they are the next Eminem and will make your ears bleed)

20: Do not tell Jason he is not allowed to do something. He finds a way to do it

20.1: Apparently Ray will do the exact same without question

21: Do not leave any members of the team with upper brass. (How did you make an Admiral with years of combat CRY!)

22: Clay is under Jason’s protection don’t go after him they will not find your body

22.1: If Clay calls Jason dad just leave it ok

22.2: Actually, check on Jason, he’s been standing staring for the past hour now

23: Hairdryers are banned (HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET YOUR BEARD CAUGHT SONNY)

24: Only Trent is allowed to call Metal by his legal first name. Ensign Williams learnt that one the hard way.

25: Paintball is banned from the base the last time it was extreme and got violent

26: The transformers movies because clay tried to do a stunt it ended badly

27: Thumbtacks apparently

28: Any Marvel movie (Jason you’re not Captain America)

28.1: DC movies are out as well

28.2: Disney Princess movies as well (don’t ask)

30: Do not leave phone unlocked around Sonny, he will not hesitate to change everything

36: DO NOT LET THEM GET SO DRUNK THEY START SINGING. IF I HEAR IN THE NAVY ONE MORE TIME, I WON'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS

37: IF THERE IS SILENCE DROP EVERYTHING AND START HUNTING AND PANICKING

38: Grenade launchers are not required for every mission Trent

39: WHO GAVE METAL A SWORD

42: Yes, Clay does know an Admiral by name. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.

45: If Clay starts angrily ranting in a foreign language, don't worry. He's thinking out loud, not plotting to destroy the base

45.1: If Clay is calmly talking in a foreign language just back away slowly

48: SpongeBob is a Bad Idea because they are way too Annoying and make References (I’m looking at you, Clay)

52: Sharpies. When I find whoever gave me this sharpie tattoo sleeve, there will be hell to pay

56: DO NOT LET CLAY HAVE A GRIMM REAPER OUTFIT! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME HES NEARLY GIVEN SONNY AND TRENT A HEART ATTACK AT 3 AM

57: Red paint. I went to check something at 3 am and Clay was painting a satanic ritual on the floor

58: 3 am checks are a bad idea. (I have seen things, people!)

62: Explosives are to be locked away when not on mission Sonny and Clay will try and play catch with a live homewrecker

62.1: I expected Metal as a Master Chief to know better - he falls under the same rule as Clay and Sonny.

63: Don't wake Clay when he is sleeping back away slowly and leave the room

64: If I'm sleeping, back away and leave the room. Interrupt me if they've broken a rule, or if the base is actively being bombed. If not, I don't care.

65: Have multiple phone chargers or they will disappear and you’re not getting them back

68: If you call Clay anything other than a nickname expect to get punched or stabbed or sniped in the ass when least expected

68.1: Metal will stab you. Please remember he has a shovel and lye in his truck (WHY DO YOU HAVE IT)

68.2: Don't try to take the shovel and lye off of Metal

69: NEVER say the number 69 around them they are all immature children and expect tongue in cheek comments

70: NEVER interrupt Sonny when he is eating breakfast, he is grumpy in the morning

72: If they are all asleep make no sound - YOU WAKE THEM THEY ARE YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE

73: For the love of god, stop giving Clay earth mineral nicknames. This is the third time this week I've watched Sonny empty limestone dust from his pack

75: Do not give them hammers! What is wrong with you people?

79: Do Not talk to Trent unless it’s after 2 coffees

83: For the love of god, don't ask Metal if he ever did nude modelling in art school. He will begin stripping, literally anywhere

91: Cerberus is a good boy and you hurt Brock you die

98: Super Glue (never again)

99: MY COFFEE IS OFF LIMITS WHOEVER PUT SALT IN IT WILL PAY

100: Do not give in to their peer pressure while they are drunk, I will not be doing it again

100.1: WHY AM I HEARING IN THE NAVY AGAIN?!

100.2: Sweet Caroline won't work twice

100.3: WHY ARE YOU SINGING BARBIE

100.4: SONNY, CLAY IS NOT A BARBIE GIRL

103: Don't tell Sonny he looks good in pink because you better believe he will keep wearing it (and probably some girl clothes too) to keep getting compliments

114: I ALREADY WROTE SUPER GLUE WHY DO I NEED TO WRITE IT AGAIN

115: HAIR DYE (Why did you dye Metal and Trent’s hair pink?!)

115.1: Face paint (Sonny, their faces did not need to match their hair)

116: Do NOT touch Clay, Charlie team learnt that, and someone ended up nearly losing a finger. (And it wasn’t because of the dog)

117: If they offer you a drink whilst smirking DO NOT take it

118: Sea shanties – if I hear one more SEA SHANTY while we are FLYING

119: If you hear someone shout incoming, run, it’s not an attack, it is Bravo, someone has done something and they’re coming to tell me

120: Vegemite is not allowed in the base after Jason let Clay eat it

121: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (JASON I DONT CARE IF YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY TO ACT LIKE LEO IT WAS A BAD MOVE)

122: Hawaii 5-0, if I hear one more thing about how we should hang people of the rook of buildings I am going to shoot someone

124: Mortal Kombat (Clay was acting like Scorpion for a month)

130: Itching Powder (looking at you Brock)

131: DO NOT TOUCH JASONS TOMATOES - you will get a bamboo cane jammed into your thigh

134: Capes - YOU ARE NOT SUPERMAN CLAY STOP PRETENDING YOU CAN FLY BY JUMPING OFF THE HOOCHES

134.1: Edna Mode said NO CAPES - I EXPECT NO CAPES WORN BY ANYONE ON MY TEAM

138: Laser Tag is fun until someone gets hurt (Sonny and Clay you know what happened)

138.1: Laser Tag! (Ray needed to go to the hospital guys, come on)

143: Basketball. My nose will never be straight again.

144: Bravo and Ice skates don’t mix (the only person good on them is Jason but no other member of Bravo is allowed on the ice again)

144.1: Same goes for rollerblades

145: Ash Spencer is not allowed to be alone with Clay (Jason punched him last time he was on base)

145.1: Do not leave Jason, Metal or Sonny alone with Ash Spenser, it’s going to end up with a murder charge.

146: Clay is Jason’s adopted kid and needs to be supervised when Jason is away

151: SLIME - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT GIVE THEM SLIME

152: GLITTER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE

153: SCISSORS - Jase cut a chunk of Clay’s hair in the night now the base is a war zone

153.1: DONT FUCK WITH COVERBOY'S HAIR see point 68 for consequences

154: NAIR (why do you even have it?)

156: Call Of Duty (Clay must be supervised when playing it)

157: Do Not leave Clay unattended with Metal (They are both recovering from the ONE CHIP/DEATH CHIP Challenge)

158: Marshmallows (don’t ask)

163: The Hunger Games (are not a good training exercise)

164: The Olympus Has Fallen movies are not allowed to be mentioned in any given time)

173: If you mention the word ice-cream just run, run for your life

176: If I am sleeping STOP THROWING PAPER AT ME

177: Yelling FOR NARNIA is not an appropriate battle cry

178: The Fast And Furious movies (Clay you are not Brian so stop)

182: Nap time is important if their asleep do something else but if you wake them run like hell

190: Any movies about WAR are BANNED (I need a drink to talk about that one)

200 (From Bravo): Blackburn isn't allowed any more paper

200.1 (From Bravo): or pens

200.2: (Blackburn) Handcuffs. They handcuffed me to my desk and wrote that

200.3 (Blackburn): Bravo will not be allowed to tell their Commanding Officer what to do

202: Who keeps giving them superglue? This is the 8th time we are having to unglue Sonny and Clay’s hands

203: Do not let any of them take point on Briefing EVER

205: Are you serious? Paperclips! Do not give them PAPERCLIPS

206: Leaving anyone unattended with fire is a bad idea - I can still smell burning

210: This is Sparta (Jason don't kick people off the roof)

210.1: JASON I SAID NO KICKING PEOPLE YOU DONT LIKE OFF THE ROOF

213: Ash Spenser is not allowed on base. DEVGRU heard about what kind of dad he is, and now its kill-on-sight

213.1: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ASH BEING ON BASE

214: Puppy dog eyes because Clay has been using them on anyone to get out of doing paperwork

215: RAY STOP DOING JASONS PAPERWORK

216: GO TO A HOSPITAL IF INJURED, TRENT HAS A LIFE OUTSIDE OF YOU LOT

217: THE GLEE CAST SOUNDTRACK IS NOT TO BE USED ON THE BASE

218: DO NOT PUT LION KING ON - they will cry like babies and there’s no consoling them over Mufasa

220: If I have to explain why BRAVO will not be joining teaching GREEN TEAM please see rule 1 and understand from that then ask the Green Team Instructor. (Brock terrified them by running the O Course in 30 minutes, all because someone gave him coffee)

220.1: And yes, that is the on the 50-minute-record O course. The time hasn’t been counted since it involved performance-enhancing substances

221: WHO THE HELL INTRODUCED THEM TO FROZEN

221.1 NO I DONT WANT TO BUILD A BLOODY SNOWMAN

221.2: WE WERE DEPLOYED TO SERBIA YOU BASTARDS

222: Gray’s anatomy (That is all)

227: VAPES - YOU DONT SMOKE AND ARE NOT PUFF THE MAGIC FUCKING DRAGON (clay I’m looking at you)

228: HATS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN BRIEFINGS (Sonny you know what you did)

229: MAGIC MIKE AND MAGIC MIKE XXL (still haunts my dreams)

233: I am begging you can you please BE NICE TO THE FLEET ADMIRAL (it's the 3rd time he's left in tears)

234: Chocolate - just run ok

235: Please stop re-enacting the screen from titanic when we are on a boat (I’m looking at you Brock)

235: PIZZA NIGHT IS A FREE FOR ALL AND IF YOU DONT WANT A BROKEN NOSE JUST BACK AWAY

236: Jokes. JOKES ARE BANNED - IF I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY I WON'T BE HAPPY – NO ITS NOT FINE TO JOKE ABOUT THE FACT YOU HAVE BEEN STABBED CLAY

236.1: STAB WOUNDS ARE NOT ADDITIONAL POCKETS

237: Monopoly got violent last time and Jason got punched

237.1: In fact, any board games turn violent even snakes and ladders

237.2: Board games. Just please stop playing board games

240: Why am I revisiting the nerf guns people? IT WAS A FAMILY BARBECUE! (You lot need to learn to let your kids win!)

241: Brock is banned from Cooking - I do not want food poisoning again

244: WE DO NOT NEED A FLASH MOB EVERY TIME DONT STOP MOVING BY SCLUB 7 COMES ON

246: If they pass out around the fire pit for the love of god move them Clay and Sonny tend to like melting the sole of their boots on the flames even when passed out

251: Plastic cups only (this rule is to stop sonny from smashing them)

254: Why am I needing to revisit Sharpies? They aren’t allowed them, give them Crayola's or crayons

254.1: Scrap that YOU CAN’T EAT THE CRAYONS

256: Clay you are not Spiderman get off the walls

257: WHO GAVE COFFEE TO BROCK!!

257.1: THIS IS RULE ONE ON THE LIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

258: Don't mention Hawaii five 0 just don't

258.1: They will attempt the intro to it, it’s just painful

259: Don't mention Harry Potter because they will all cry over different characters deaths

287: Soup is now banned (Ray. I honestly thought you were the normal one of the team. I am disappointed)

321: If you see Clay and Sonny cuddling just walk away, pretend you didn’t see anything, one of them had a bad day and the other is the only one they will confine in

322: Don't mention the Philippines or India just don't

330: If Metal and Trent are talking, just leave them be. (No one wants to know if Metal is yelling about something stupid Trent did)

331: Popcorn is not allowed on base it ended up in everyone's gear

342: Non-Aerosol Deodorant. (Two of them tried to eat it before realising it wasn't edible)

344: Aerosol Deodorant. (Metal and Sonny used it with lighters. to create a flamethrower)

344.1: Side note LIGHTERS ARE BAD

345: Headphones. DO NOT ASK

346: Rubber bands are not slingshots

FINAL NOTE: FROM BRAVO - BLACKBURN LOVES US REALLY PLEASE IGNORE THE ABOVE LIST ITS ALL LIES

[badatjokezz]

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe.... 

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills 

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Okay I’m currently moving and going through old trinkets and stuff to see what to get rid of and I just now really would love a Ben Hargreeves x reader fic super fluffy going through old things of yours or his and just generally being super cute 😭 ily!

A/N: So this is a Ben didn’t die AU because that was the only way I could think of for “cute” not “sad.” Also, as someone who just moved herself, good luck on your move darling, may it be as smooth and frustration free as possible. I hope you enjoy it! :) Word Count: 1702 Content Warnings: Major cheese-factor? But other than that nothing

“I’m glad we decided to get a place together,” you said, leaning against Ben’s shoulder, looking around your empty apartment.

Yours, the two of you. When you had started discussing moving in with one another, maybe a year into your relationship, you considered just adding him onto your lease, which still had several months left on it (he did not consider asking you to move in with him, because he’d been living with Vanya, and Klaus when he showed up and couldn’t wait to get out). But eventually, you two had settled on starting fresh, somewhere you had picked out together, a place for both of you to build your lives together. It had been a challenge at first, but in the end, you knew it would be worth the effort to create a home together instead of merely adopting one of you into the other’s preexistent reality.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and smiling. “And I’ll be even more glad once we get some stuff in here.”

~

“Y/N, what about these?” Ben called to you, pulling out a battered black shoebox from the back of your closet. “You didn’t put this pair with the rest of your shoes?”

Confused what he was talking about, you set aside the plates you had been wrapping in newspaper and made your way to the bedroom.

“What are you talking ab—oh…” your eyes fell on the box in question and you felt a hot blush creep across your face and down your neck. “That’s um…”

Ben’s confusion at your discomfort only grew when the box rattled slightly, producing sounds of rustling paper rather than shoes.

“You can just ignore that. It’s just some old…I don’t even know why I kept…” you sighed in defeat as his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the box.

The box, which had laid buried in your closet for long that you’d nearly forgotten about it, was full of old newspaper and magazine clippings about the Umbrella Academy in their hay-day.

“I, uh, I can explain that?”

Ben laughed, grin wide and surprisingly nonjudgmental as he picked up the faded pages in gentle fingers, particularly when he came across one of a teen magazine quiz which said your soulmate was Diego and you had drawn frowning faces around it and marked it ‘WRONG’ in blue sharpie.

“Aw, babe, I had no idea you were such a fan,” he teased. “My brother will be so sad I stole his soulmate.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I was into the whole Umbrella Academy thing as a kid…lots of people were…” you shrugged, hoping that your nonchalance would keep him from pressing further. “It’s nothing to make a big deal of.”

“Aw, hey, Y/N, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said, setting the box aside to come over and rest his hands on your shoulders. “I think it’s cute.”

You shoved his chest lightly, hearing the laughter in his voice. “Shut up.”

~

All of your things finally packed, you and Ben made your way to the apartment he shared with his siblings, which they had cleared out of for the day so you could have more space to work.

“Hey Ben,” you said, gesturing to an old-fashioned hatbox on one of his shelves. “I didn’t know you were a hat guy?”

You wished you could reach the box yourself so you could take him down and tease him properly for the contents the way he had had for your shoebox. Instead, you had to wait for him to come and be tall for you.

“Oh that. I took the box from the Academy. Although I think the hat was as likely to have been Pogo’s as it was Dad’s,” he explained.

“So if it’s not a hat, what’s in there?” you asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

The box tucked under one arm, he pulled you closer with the other into a hug and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, before moving to sit in on the corner of his bed (piled high with the books which had been hiding this mystery box and which you were supposed to be packing at the moment), motioning for you to join him. Eagerly, you bounced across the small room to flop next to him on the floor, making him laugh as you nearly collapsed into his lap and he had to quickly lift the box above his head to keep you from crushing it.

“Well, it’s not quite the same as yours, but it turns out we were both hanging onto some things,” he explained almost shyly, carefully wiggling off the snug lid of the box.

“Oh really?” you couldn’t help the smirk that crept across your face.

The first thing he pulled out was a photobooth filmstrip. In the four little boxes were your smiling faces, your silly faces, and one where you had leaned over and kissed him, his eyes wide with shock, all in sepia, perfect moments frozen in time.

“That was our first date,” you said with surprise. “Our first official one anyway, unless you count you refusing to let go of my hand until you had escorted me safely out of the building when those lunatics decided a coffee shop was the best place to hold up for quick cash.”

“Well I couldn’t let them catch wind of priceless treasure that slipped through their fingers, and my siblings had everything under control.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, leaning your chin on his knee to see what else was in the box. It was full to the brim, practically overflowing with little bits of memorabilia from your time together: a newspaper clipping about the day you met, ticket stubs for concerts and movies, pictures you had taken together or of each other with his polaroid camera, love letters you’d sent each other and notes you’d left when one of you had to leave before the other woke or had something important coming up that you might need a little extra encouragement for. It was like your whole lives together so far were in that hat box and you felt your eyes welling up at the thought. It was so much better than your embarrassing childhood crush.

“You know, I thought you had only agreed to go to that carnival with me because you felt like you owed me for saving you or something,” he added softly as he leafed through.

You rolled your head to one side, cheek against his leg, so you could look up at him, sensing the insecurity in his voice.

“Ben, baby…” you sighed.

Even now, after all of this time, he still seemed to think that part of you was only there out of pity, seemed to expect you to flinch away in horror at his abilities. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way he and his siblings were raised and exploited by Reginald Hargreeves, but still your heart ached every time you sensed him withdrawing into those dark places.

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to say it,” he said, guessing at how your sentence was going to finish based on your repeated past conversations about it.

“I don’t think you do,” you lifted your head up, sitting back to better look him in the eye. “I was stunned that you even noticed me let alone asked me out, because you are incredible. And I don’t just mean the superhero thing, although that is pretty sweet,” you face scrunched up and you grinned at him before sobering. “If I was only in it for pity or for fame or because I owed you, I would have bailed a long time ago, not be getting an apartment with you. You’re stuck with me. Because I love you Ben Hargreeves.”

He set the box in his hands aside, pulling you close so that he could kiss you, tender and sweet and so rawly, desperately full of love that it threatened to overwhelm you. You folded your arms over his shoulders drawing him in even more. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, gently carding your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“We should really get back to packing,” you said after sitting like that for a moment, more than a little regretful that you had to break the moment and return you both to reality.

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you from the box,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a generic looking crumpled piece of lined paper.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching for it.

Nervously, he handed it to you and you began to read. Almost immediately, your hand came up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in them. This wasn’t a letter, so much as the draft of a speech with words and lines and entire paragraphs crossed out, some scribbled over completely and others with a single mark through them and new words squeezed into the cramped space above them. Finally, at the bottom, circled in blue ink: Y/N, you’re incredible. Will you go out with me?

“Oh Ben,” you murmured, clutching the paper carefully to your chest, trying your hardest not to cry.

“I was so nervous to ask you out,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And Diego kept giving me shit about how you were way out of my league, which definitely didn’t help. But for some reason you said yes, and I thought I might die, I was so happy.”

~

“So I was thinking…” you said one night, wrapping your arms around Ben as he stood in the doorway of your new living room.

“Uh-oh,” he laughed, mirroring your hold.

“We have that big open wall-space over the sofa, right?”

He nodded, looking at you, eyebrows knit together in curiosity and confusion.

“We also have two boxes of stuff that would make a really nice collage…we could maybe put them there? Sort of a wall of memories?”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to you fully. “I love it.”

[hyungwonmyheart]

Sleepover

Group: SuperM / NCT Pairing: Lucas (Wong Yukhei) / Female Reader Words: 6,637 Tags: college!au, party time, drinking games, alcohol use, dirty talk, handjob, clitoral stimulation, vaginal sex, pet names Summary: You’re invited to a party by your best friend, Ten, at his apartment. When you get there, you discover the only people who showed up are some of his guy friends (the members of SuperM) and his roommate, Lucas; the one you’d been harboring some strong feelings for ever since he moved in. A night full of drinking games leads to you sneaking into Lucas’ room when everyone else is asleep, all thanks to liquid courage. A/N: I’ve been writing this freaking fic for months. There will eventually be a sequel, but it will not be featuring Lucas/Reader as the center point! I had a lot of fun writing the game section because it really showcased their personalities. Sometimes you just need to write silly filler. Anyway, I really hope y’all enjoy this! :D

“When are you getting back in town again?” Ten asked through the phone screen. He was sitting on his couch, eating lunch while video calling you. His phone was propped up on something, allowing him full use of his hands to enjoy the meal.

You were lying on your childhood bed, having visited your parents for a few days. You weren’t particularly concerned with the camera angle; it was just your best friend. “Tomorrow afternoon. I have Sunday off before I go back to work on Monday.”

“Hey, that’s perfect!” A new voice said just as someone popped their head into the frame. Ten’s roommate, Lucas, was all smiles when he laid eyes on you. “We’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come!”

At the sight of Lucas, you immediately sat up in bed and readjusted the phone to look your best.

Ten noticed, but nudged Lucas away to say, “Oh yeah, we’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come.” His monotonous voice lacked enthusiasm since his roommate spoiled the news.

“That sounds like fun,” you exclaimed, already looking forward to it.

Your friend swallowed a bite of food when a sly darkness came to his gaze. “By the way, you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Lucas?”

You narrowed your eyes on Ten, knowing what he was getting at, but only smiled as Lucas sat down beside him with his own plate of food.

“She always looks great,” the younger replied, shit-eating grin and all as he swept some of his hair out of his face. Then, he wasted no more time to dig into his lunch.

Ten wiggled his eyebrows at you, which only made you even more flustered.

“I gotta go, my mom’s calling for me,” you fibbed to get out of the conversation.

That made Ten suspicious. “I didn’t hear her--”

“See you tomorrow! Bye!”

“Hey, wai-”

You quickly ended the call before tossing your phone away and burying your face in a pillow. That little shit, you thought spitefully about your friend. He knew you carried a torch for Lucas, and never let the chance pass to tease you about it. Lucas was six feet of charming, goofy, raw charisma. He was undeniably handsome, and his smile was to die for. You were in deep, deeper than you ever let Ten know, though he probably figured that out for himself.

However, you couldn’t confront those feelings. What if you did pursue Lucas? What if things didn’t work out, and the awkwardness forced him to move? And then, Ten would have to go through the trouble of finding another roommate. You didn’t want to cause such a fuss. You could keep it in your pants if it meant helping them live in harmony.

Your phone jingled to alert you had received a new text.

Ten: Coward.

If only they could make it that easy on you.

•••••

You traveled home safely from your parents’, and immediately started getting ready for the party. You weren’t sure exactly what kind of party this was, so you opted with a smokey eye and rosy lip look while your clothes were trendy, yet casual enough to be comfortable in. The desire to impress Lucas lingered in the back of your mind...well, more like hovered over your back like a vengeful spirit ready to devour its next soul.

Okay, maybe that was a little dark, but it really was an ominous feeling, damn it!

All you wanted was to have a good time tonight, and if that good time included Lucas’ company, then everything would be perfect.

You made your way to Ten’s apartment around 8 o’clock that evening. You stood outside the door for a solid fifteen seconds, preparing yourself for knocking. Usually, you’d be inclined to stroll in without delay, but for some reason your anxiety was getting the better of you. This was just another party to hang out with some friends...and Lucas...Nothing to get so worked up about.

Knock, knock, knock.

You heard some footsteps approaching before the door swung open and Ten greeted you with a bright smile.

“Hey!” He said, giving you a hug before ushering you in.

“Hi!” You returned, immediately looking around the room. Your face fell a bit.

Sitting in the living room was a group of six other men. You knew all of them, though a couple you considered acquaintances. Mark and Taeyong were friends of Lucas’ you’d only met once before, while Baekhyun, Taemin and Jongin were the ones you saw on a regular basis with Ten.

You figured it must still be early. “Who else is coming?” You asked as you started to unzip your jacket.

“This is it,” Ten announced, motioning to the others.

You paused mid-zip. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought this was a party, not just some night for drinking with your boys.”

“Some people cancelled last minute, so it’s just us! And you! Yayyy,” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You sighed, feeling a little put-off by being the only girl in a group full of guys, but whatever, you’d roll with it. You finished taking your jacket off, along with your shoes while you were at it.

“Before you start mingling,” Ten began, stepping between you and your line of sight to the living room, “I’m going to take this as an opportunity to let you know something that I found out.” The sudden sinister smile on his lips made your skin crawl. It had to be something interesting for him to make that face.

“Spill,” you demanded.

Ten lowered his voice. “Lucas told Baekhyun who told me that Lucas wants you.”

You raised a brow. “‘Wants me’?”

“Yeah,” he continued, “and he says he loves your smile and you’ve got a nice ass.”

Peeking over Ten’s shoulder, you nearly stared holes into the back of Lucas’ head as he sat on the couch. “And?” You asked to see if there was more while returning your gaze to your best friend.

“Oh, and he thinks you need a man who knows how to dick you down.”

Your mouth dropped.

Ten giggled. “Okay, I added that last part in.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him playfully. You were still wrapping your mind around this. “Why would Lucas tell Baekhyun that? He literally has the biggest mouth--”

“--Because, unlike us, Lucas doesn’t know better not to tell Baekhyun anything like that,” Ten cut in.

You glanced down at your fidgeting fingers. This felt kind of unreal. You choked back your hesitation to ask, “Does he really want me?”

Ten blinked. “Are you serious? That boy has been fawning over you since Day One.”

Shaking out the anxious energy from your hands, you took a deep breath and primped your hair a bit. If this was true, you had to make sure. Tonight.

You heard Lucas’ voice from behind Ten as he loudly said your name. “You made it!” He exclaimed, bringing you into a warm hug.

You breathed in his cologne and never wanted the hug to end. When he pulled away, much to your internal disdain, you smiled up at him. “Hey, Lucas,” you said before waving at everyone who was now staring at you from across the room. “Hey, guys!”

They all said their hellos as you walked into the living room with Lucas and Ten close behind you.

“Can I make you a drink?” Taemin offered, going to stand from the couch.

“She can do it her damn self,” Ten quipped as he took a seat on the floor by the coffee table.

You started poking his side with your toes, knowing it was going to bug him.

He swatted at your foot, but you moved too quickly for him to touch you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“C’mon, I’ll make it for you,” Lucas said with a laugh. He placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and guided you towards the kitchen.

You ignored the silence that followed as everyone watched the two of you leave, but you were relieved when Ten started up the conversation with, “Which one of these drinks was mine again?”

“You should’ve gotten a Sharpie so we could write our names on the cups…” Jongin stated.

“That would have required thinking ahead,” Baekhyun teased, sipping at his own drink.

Mark chimed in, “You really don’t have a Sharpie? Anywhere?”

Ten sent a glare around the room. “Fresh out.”

Their discussion faded as your focus was overwhelmed with Lucas’ presence.

“Whatcha got a taste for?” He asked, motioning to the plethora of alcohol and mixers scattered across the kitchen counter.

You couldn’t really say ‘your dick’ without dying of shame, so instead you went for, “A shot of tequila.”

Lucas smirked and reached for a shot glass from one of the cabinets. “Anything else?” He questioned as he poured your shot.

You snatched it off the counter and tilted your head back, downing it. You hissed a bit before setting the glass down. If you got some alcohol in your system quickly, you would surely loosen up and relax more. That was your logic. Your eyes flickered to his as a flirtatious smile played on your lips. “Another shot of tequila?”

The low chuckle that came from his direction traveled straight to your core. “Don’t go too hard yet, we’ve still got games to play,” he informed you while pouring your second shot.

You tossed the tequila back once more. “But I like to go hard,” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying.

A look of surprise crossed his face, but you quickly turned away to mix yourself a cocktail. You cursed your dirty mind. Maybe he didn’t catch the innuendo in your words…

After you stirred your drink, you let Lucas--who was now awfully quiet--lead you back out into the living room.

Taeyong stood from the couch and offered you the seat. “The lady shouldn’t sit on the floor,” he declared, sitting down beside Mark.

Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if it was from the gentlemanly act or the tequila.

Probably both.

You thanked Taeyong and sat between Baekhyun and Taemin. Lucas wheeled in the computer chair from his bedroom, while the others remained on the floor.

Ten clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms against each other. “Since this is it, how about we start a game?” He suggested.

“What game?” A few questioned simultaneously.

“I thought we could start with a game called ‘Most Likely,’” he continued. “Basically, we’ll go around in a circle. Each person thinks of a question to ask everyone in the room, like, who is ‘Most Likely to fall asleep first at a sleepover?’ Or ‘Most Likely to lose their phone while it’s on silent?’ Silly questions, dirty questions, all are welcome. Then, everyone points to the person they think are Most Likely to do so. Whoever has the most fingers pointed at them has to drink!”

“That sounds like fun!” Mark gabbed.

“Then, I’ll start!” Ten announced. “Everyone got their drinks? Yeah? Okay! Who is Most Likely to feel comfortable walking around naked?”

Baekhyun started to laugh. “Oh, we’re starting out dirty right from the get-go, huh?” When everyone’s fingers pointed in his direction, his smile faltered and he pouted. “Hey! Are you guys ganging up on me?”

“Are you really going to sit there and act like you don’t?” Jongin said in disbelief.

“W-Well, no, but--”

“THEN DRINK!” Ten and Taemin demanded.

Baekhyun begrudgingly took the first sip of the game before boasting, “Me next!” He tapped his chin in thought before asking, “Who’s Most Likely to eat an entire pizza in one sitting?”

Fingers gravitated to Lucas.

Without even arguing, Lucas raised his cup to his lips.

The next few questions went by with brief discussions.

You asked, “Most Likely to get a million followers on a social media platform?” Unanimously decided that would be Taemin.

Taemin asked, “Most Likely to become an evil mastermind and plan to take over the world?” Well, that was right up Ten’s alley, though it was agreed you’d be his minion.

Taeyong asked, “Most Likely to forget something at the grocery store if they don’t have a list?” He shot a playful glare at Mark, to which the younger apologized to his own roommate ‘for the thousandth time.’

Mark asked, “Most Likely to become a supermodel?” One would think it went to Lucas since he was so tall, but everyone agreed there was something about Jongin that would draw the eye in that sort of situation.

Jongin stared into his drink for a few seconds as he thought. “Most Likely to abandon their room because of a spider?” A smile crept to his lips as all the fingers pointed to you.

You narrowed your eyes on each person before defending, “Okay, first of all, when it’s a big spider and it disappears from my sight, of course I’m going to get the fuck out of that room!”

Baekhyun snorted. “Until someone else comes and finds it and kills it for you.”

“Remember that time you slept in your living room for five days because you couldn’t find that one spider?” Ten brought to your attention.

You glared at your best friend. “Go to hell.”

“We’ll ride down together, my little minion,” he cackled. “Now drink.”

You took a big gulp from your cup.

The game continued. Lucas asked, “Most Likely to spend an entire day playing video games?”

The vote had barely even come down to Baekhyun before he raised his hand. “I’ll take that crown, thank you!” He beamed, taking a drink.

You giggled. This was actually pretty fun.

“Okay, we’re back to me,” Ten announced, carefully picking out his next question. “Most Likely to become an escort?” He wiggled his eyebrows towards Taemin, obviously thinking everyone would choose him.

Ten didn’t expect the fingers around the room to point at him again. After more thought…they were probably right. "Okay, yeah, I can see that,” he started, “but listen, I have very expensive tastes. I just need a sugar daddy instead."

Laughs filled the room, but then Taemin chimed in, "You say that, but..." He glanced at Taeyong, who'd yet to have been picked for a question. "Who's most likely to be a sugar baby?"

Most fingers were directed at Taeyong.

Ten, who was pointing at himself, pouted, but ended up nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that."

Taeyong’s face flushed. “But why me?!”

Leaning over from his seat, Taemin jokingly grabbed Taeyong’s chin and squeezed his cheeks together. “You’re sweet, and who wouldn’t give money to that face?” He mocked, though laughed loudly as Taeyong slapped at his hand.

“Are you trying to say that I would take money from some old dude just because I’m cute?” Taeyong’s cheeks were blood red at this point. His flustered gaze was on the ground. You noticed that Ten couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Baekhyun crossed one leg over the other, smirking over at the embarrassed man. “Who said it had to be an old dude? There are lots of women out there who’d love to have you around.”

You kept your gaze on Ten, picking up on the subtle twitch of his eyebrow when Baekhyun spoke about a woman getting Taeyong’s attention. Oh, so I’m not the only one with the hots for someone… You thought, stifling a giggle.

“You’d be crazy not to,” Ten butted in, finally tearing his eyes away from Taeyong. You knew your best friend, and you knew he wasn’t always one to act on his feelings unless he was sure of the other party’s attraction to him as well. He swirled his drink around in his cup. “Free money? Hell yeah.”

Taeyong finally sent a glance at your friend, a distant look of hurt in his gaze. “Nothing’s ‘free’, Ten.”

Ten couldn’t stop himself from poking a bit more fun. “Okay, so you’ll have to do a bit of literal ass kissing, but you’ll be living comfortably,” he said with a laugh.

You exchanged awkward glances with Lucas, and you immediately knew he caught on to Ten’s feelings as well. It may not have been obvious to anyone else, but you two were the ones he was closest with.

You brought your arm down in front of you, as if cutting the tension with a knife. “All right, all right, next question…”

A few more rounds went by before it came to Mark again. Like his roommate, Mark’s cheeks were also flushed, but you realized he was a bit drunker than the others in the room. His drink was almost gone, and if you remembered correctly, Lucas may have mentioned at some point that his friend was a lightweight. “Most Likely to pierce their dick?” Mark almost slurred.

Lucas motioned to you. “That’s not fair, she can’t answer that!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine, pierce their ‘genitals’?”

“That just sounds even dirtier,” Jongin murmured.

Ten chuckled, “The dirtier the better, in my opinion, but it sounds like Mark’s the one who’s interested in it.”

“I never took Mark as being that kinky,” Baekhyun snickered.

Mark gasped and shook his head vigorously. He immediately regretted that. He lifted his hands to his temples, trying to massage the headache and nausea away.

“What the hell is he drinking?” You inquired, curious to what had him so messed up this early in the night. You looked around at the others, but froze when you realized Lucas was staring at you. When he quickly averted his eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach.

Taemin snorted at your question. “I made him a drink; it must’ve been too strong for him.”

If Mark’s concoction from Taemin was that strong, now you were grateful that you made your own drink.

“Are you still okay to play?” Lucas asked Mark.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the younger insisted.

“Then, let’s keep going,” Ten declared.

It was Jongin’s turn. “Most Likely…” He pondered for a few seconds. “Most Likely to have sex in public?”

Even Taemin pointed at himself. “What can I say, I like the thrill?” He rubbed the back of his neck innocently.

When the time came for Lucas’ next question, he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked around at the people in the room. “Who is Most Likely to be a pornstar?” His low voice sent tingles to your fingertips.

Such a dirty question from the man you liked so much. That was all it took for your mind to drift off at the thought of Lucas being a pornstar. You imagined him slowly taking off his clothes, and giving you ‘come hither’ eyes. He was so tall, you were sure he had to be packing. His hands would travel down his chest, his solid abdomen, eventually reaching the waistline of his underwear. The ‘V’ line of his hip bones trailing under the fabric.

“Hello? Earth to--”

You snapped out of your trance and realized everyone was waiting for your answer. You cleared your throat and absently voted for Taemin like everyone else.

“I’m the answer to all of these. Why am I the pervy one?” He puffed his cheeks out.

“Well, if the cock ring fits…” Baekhyun joked, making everyone start laughing.

Taemin reached over you to slap Baekhyun’s arm, but you ended up tickling him under his own arm. With a gasp, he sat back and gawked at you. “Excuse me, I’m sensitive!”

“Yeah, sure,” you giggled. Your eyes flickered over to Lucas.

He was watching you again, and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy coming from his direction.

After a few seconds, you finally looked over to Ten to see him giving you a suggestive smile. You immediately cursed his existence as he asked the next question.

“Most Likely to sleep with a friend’s friend?”

Fingers from around the room, including your own, pointed to Ten, yet his and Baekhyun’s were pointing to someone else.

Lucas.

Mark burst into laughter. “Lucas?! Yeah, right! This goody two-shoes?!”

Lucas’ face turned red all the way to his ears. “Shut up, Mark. Taeyong, take his drink--”

“NO!” Mark shouted, suddenly downing the rest of the alcohol in his cup.

A moment of chaos broke out as Taeyong and Lucas leapt to get the cup, but it was too late, and everyone else was laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile, your eyes briefly met Ten’s. You glanced to Taeyong, back to Ten, and gave him a knowing smile. “Lucas isn’t the only one most likely, huh?” You whispered. That seemed to shut him up for a moment before you stood and went into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath away from everyone else, you were trying to keep your cool. The way Lucas reacted to that last question, the way he’d been staring at you all night, the way he gently touched your back earlier; Ten was right, Lucas liked you way more than you wanted to acknowledge.

You were ready to give in.

After refilling your drink, you returned to the living room.

Ten beamed at you. “She’s back! Let’s play another game! It’s called ‘Flip Cup’--” He paused, looking at the youngest in the room. “Mark should probably sit this one out, though…”

•••••

3 A.M.

The party had settled about an hour before. The guys were too drunk to go home, so Ten and Lucas helped set them up to sleep in the living room while you changed into the spare set of pajamas you left over here for situations like this. It was also obvious that you were going to stay in Ten’s room.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you had told him after he suggested sharing the bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“...Are you sure?” Ten asked, purely confused.

You nodded, taking a pillow from the bed. You had a plan, and you were just drunk enough to have the confidence to do it.

Luckily, you were too wired to accidentally fall asleep, so you laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling for a while until you were sure Ten was passed out. When you finally built up the courage to get out of your makeshift bed, you carefully stepped over to the door and opened it. Turning your head, you took one final glimpse at your best friend, who was sound asleep, before closing the door. You could hear soft snores coming from the living room as you crossed the hall to Lucas’ room. You stared at the doorknob for a long while.

You had to get out of your head if you were going to do this.

Just fucking do it, you snapped at yourself. Grasping the handle, you twisted the knob and peeked your head into the room.

Lucas was curled up in his blankets, his head tilted to the side where you couldn’t see.

Ever-so slowly, you entered the room and locked the door behind you. It was now or never. Creeping over to his bedside, you lifted the covers and crawled into the bed. You waited a few seconds to see if Lucas would stir, but his steady breathing reassured you that he was fast asleep.

How did you want to do this? His body heat radiated under the blankets and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him. Scooting over, you snuggled into his side and let your hand flitter down his bare abdomen to find solace between his legs. You praised his creator, who blessed him so, while you massaged his length through the sweatpants he wore. It soon twitched to life.

Lucas let out a soft grunt before stirring from his drunken slumber. He slowly turned to look at whoever was touching him, squinting through the darkness to lay eyes on you. You could see the confusion pass through his expression, as if he were wondering if this was some alcohol-induced wet dream.

You flashed him a sweet smile, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He quietly croaked, his voice pitchy before he tried to clear the grogginess.

You kept your voice down to tell him, “Ten said Baekhyun said you wanted me. Well, here I am.” You squeezed on his hardening cock, palming it a bit more firmly.

Lucas leaned his head back, sighing with pleasure. He didn’t know whether to curse or praise Baekhyun’s big mouth. A soft groan left him, his hips lifting to meet your hand.

You swallowed hard. There was something about the sounds he was making and the way he was moving that made you want to wreck him. “What exactly was it you wanted from me, baby boy?” You asked, gripping even harder onto him.

Your pet name sent a chill through his body. When he realized just how strong your grip was on his aching cock, trapped inside his sweatpants, Lucas knew you wouldn’t let him beat around the bush. “Everything,” he answered.

You raised a brow. “That’s awfully greedy, and very vague. C’mon, baby, tell me what you want from me?”

Lucas met your sultry gaze through the darkness. “You. I just want all of you,” he replied earnestly. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your face felt hot as your hand faltered briefly. “And you’ve kept that a secret? For months?!”

His hips moved to get some kind of friction on his length from your hand. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I thought it was obvious!” He defended before you shushed him.

“You need to be quiet. Everyone’s asleep,” you told him. Pulling the blankets back, you maneuvered yourself to straddle his waist and stared down at him while grinding down on his groin. “I want everything from you, too, Lucas...Let’s make up for lost time.” Your voice was soft, but your words were so sincere that you felt him twitching under you in response to hearing them.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you to say that,” he growled, sitting up to grab the back of your neck. He guided your lips to his and thrust his tongue into your mouth.

You whimpered, taking in every taste of toothpaste and lingering alcohol. You scratched your nails down his chest before playing with the hem of his sweatpants.

“Wait--” Lucas breathed, breaking apart from the kiss. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside as he moved to kiss what skin was revealed of your breasts. His fingertips grazed around your waist and up your back, his touch hot and needy to get you naked as well. He managed to unclip your bra and bit down on the delicate flesh just above one of your nipples while he slipped it off.

Gasping at the sensation, your head fell back while your hips rotated down onto him. “I need you...” The whine slipped from your lips with a desperate yearning. Just hearing your words made him moan out in response, making your hand quickly cover his mouth. You hardly meant the words you were about to say, but you wanted to see his reaction. “We can’t do this if you’re going to be loud. Maybe I should go--”

The panic in his eyes almost made your heart burst with affection. He didn’t have a right to be this cute. “Stay! Stay!” He whispered against your hand. As he pressed his chest against yours, he nudged your hand away to fiercely capture your lips. You could feel in the way he held you, his nails now dragging down into the flesh of your back; he wasn’t going to let you go. You were hopelessly lost in his kiss.

As his fingers traveled lower behind you, they reached your pajama pants and dipped under the fabric to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Lucas’ hand slipped even further down to delve its fingers between your sopping wet folds. He let out a heavy breath against the kiss, dipping a tentative finger into your pussy.

Your eyes widened and you shuddered, your breathing just as feverish as you rotated your hips into his touch. His finger swirled around in your juices, and it was muddling your mind. You came into this wanting to wreck him, and suddenly it was very much turning the other way. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed and breaking from his kiss.

Lucas stared up at you with those bright, puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong?” He was nearly breathless.

That made you smile. “I just need more than your finger,” you admitted, helping him rid his sweatpants. When you were perched atop his naked body, you finally saw what you were getting yourself into. Well--more like what was going to get into you. Your mouth fell open a bit, but you quickly shook off your initial shock. Feeling it through pants and seeing it in all its glory were a bit different.

He tried to hold back a smirk, but the way you were looking at him only boosted his ego. He said your name, which snapped you out of your daze. “Is everything okay?” The mock in his voice only irked you.

You nodded, trying to ignore that smug little way he smiled up at you. Licking your lips, you started rubbing your warmth against his cock. As it grazed your clit, you lifted a hand to your mouth to keep back any noise. That felt really good. You grinded down even harder, bringing sighs of ecstasy from both of your mouths. Your hips had built up to a pace that eventually made Lucas growl and flip you over onto your back.

“No more teasing,” he declared, his cock prodding at your entrance. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then fuck me, baby boy,” you hissed as you parted your legs even more for him.

Lucas brought you into another kiss to stifle both of your moans as he finally guided his cock into you. It was a tight squeeze, taking a half-dozen minimal thrusts until he had sheathed most of himself inside. Your walls clenched down around him, and it was like he was in heaven on earth. He swallowed every sound that threatened to escape your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you clung to his broad frame. When he withdrew his length and gave you his first full thrust, you quickly realized that staying quiet was going to be a real problem.

That thought also occurred to Lucas. He, however, had no intention of holding back anymore. Parting from your lips, Lucas gazed down to see a hopeless look in your expression and smiled. “Mm, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he purred, building up a strong rock of his hips.

You gasped and bit your bottom lip. Your eyes were glued to his. The more he thrust, the harder it became to stay sane. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you panted into your palm.

It was easy to hear the ragged way you were trying to keep some control over your sounds. You were so adorable. He had wanted this for months, and now that you were finally here with him, his bed wasn’t so lonely anymore. He prayed you were enjoying yourself as much as he was. “Is it good for you?” He murmured, nipping a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes,” you rushed under your breath, “yes, yes, yes!” Your hands wove themselves into his hair and attempted to yank him back down to kiss again.

Lucas lowered his head a few inches, just enough to graze your lips before he lifted it again. He waited for a whine of objection before he grinned at you. He sat backward on his haunches and steadily gripped your waist. He wet his lips as he studied the way your bodies met through the shadows. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know?” He said, not much caring for the volume of his voice. “I can’t get enough…” He leisurely drew his hips back, watching every inch of his dick as it pulled out to its head. He paused just a moment before sliding in as much as he could possibly fit inside you.

You nearly choked on air as he touched you so deeply. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his wrists, as if gripping onto them would get you some semblance of control over the situation, but no. Lucas was in control now.

The seductive smile that met you through the darkness of the room made it quite clear of that.

When you felt him start to work his hips in such a way that was making the head of his cock touch your sweet spot with every caress, you were frantic. You couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped into the air, and you knew the thin walls of the apartment would do nothing to shroud it.

His eyes danced. “Do you like that spot?” He asked with fascination. Giving his next thrust a bit more gusto, you groaned loudly before you could catch yourself. It finally occurred to you what he was doing.

Lucas seemed to have a determination to make you wake the whole freaking apartment.

Not him.

You.

If there was one thing Lucas should know about you by now, though, it was that you were stubborn. You glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose!” You half-heartedly spat.

His thrusts halted again. “Doing what?” He asked obliviously.

“Trying to wake everyone up!”

He snorted. “Need I be the one to remind you again that YOU woke ME up?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I thought it would be kinky, but you’re just trying to make it awkward for everyone else!”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Lucas let those words hover between you before he abruptly pulled out of you.

Honestly, he could have leaned down, captured your lips again, and kept at it that way, but he came up with a different plan. You wanted kinky, after all… “Fine. You want to stay quiet?” You were in utter confusion before you felt his large hands flip you over onto your stomach. He roughly grabbed your hips and lifted your ass. “Bite the sheets,” he snipped, thrusting back into you with reckless abandon.

Doing what you were told, you clamped your eyes shut and gritted the sheets between your teeth as you struggled to remain silent. Lucas kept up the relentless pace for a few minutes until you heard him curse softly and his hips stutter.

You hadn’t quite built up to your peak yet, so the reality of Lucas meeting his end made your stomach drop.

Until you felt him grip onto your waist even harder and quickly pick the tempo up again.

You were shocked. “D-Didn’t you just come?” You asked over your shoulder.

Lucas wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, but fuck, you feel so good. I can’t stop,” he grunted, slamming into you. “You said you like it hard, right?”

His stab at what you said earlier in the night had you whimpering, “So hard! God, yes, fuck me hard!”

“Shut up, or else you’ll wake everyone up!” He put pressure on your back and pinned you to the bed. “Unless you want everyone to hear you panting like a bitch in heat over my cock…”

Your jaw fell open as you tried to quickly turn and snap at him, but Lucas had a hand over your mouth before you could say a word.

He leaned over your body to growl into your ear, “Tell me I’m wrong.” He drove his cock as deeply as possible into your clenching cunt. “Tell me you aren’t a writhing mess from me fucking you.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he pinched your nose. He continued bucking into you as he cut off your access to oxygen.

Digging your fingers into the sheets below you, it was a frantic attempt to stay conscious as your body finally broke down. Succumbing to his powerful thrusts, you climaxed just before you could black out. Lucas’ hand withdrew from your face in time to keep you awake. Your ears were ringing, you were seeing stars, and your pussy was convulsing around him.

With a groan of pleasure, Lucas rested his head on your shoulder as he came again.

There was a moment of silence that felt more like a high-pitched buzz as the sensation of release hummed through your bodies. Lucas slid out of you just as he slumped onto the mattress beside you. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he covered his face with his hands instead.

All at once, you felt your senses return to you and you were aware of what was happening. Lucas had laid down and hid himself from you, and you had no clue why. Reaching out for him, you used what strength you had left to reveal the embarrassment on his face. “Are you okay?” You asked, nuzzling his jaw with your nose.

Lowering his hands, with your help, he gaped at you in disbelief. “I should be asking YOU that!” He exclaimed, flipping onto his side. He grabbed your head in his hands and peppered kisses all over your face. “I went overboard, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said those things to you!”

You started laughing at his burst of affection. “Lucas, it’s okay,” you laughed, finally catching his lips as they went to peck your cheek. Getting lost in the kiss, you relaxed only when you felt his body start to settle down. Eventually, you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face in his chest. “I didn’t realize you were into that…” You said with amusement.

“I don’t know where it came from! You must have brought that out of somewhere in the depths of me,” he joked, lightly scratching his nails up and down your back.

“...I liked it,” you admitted.

A cheesy grin came to his lips, but you were too busy being smothered by his sculpted chest to know it. “...I like you.” His voice was low and sincere.

You giggled and pressed teasing kisses along his collarbone, emphasizing each word. “I. Like. You. More.”

His embrace tightened around you. “I doubt that,” he cooed, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head. A thought occurred to him. “...Ten is going to wonder where you went in the morning, and then what will we tell him?”

“The truth,” you stated simply. “You know, that we’re together now.”

“It’s about time,” he joked, resting his chin against your head.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “it is.”

•••••

Just as things settled down in Lucas’ bedroom, things in the living room were settling as well. Having roused from the sounds coming from down the hall, Jongin, Taemin, Baekhyun and Taeyong were staring at various places around the room with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Mark was passed out, snoring on a futon in the corner of the room. Apparently, he could sleep through anything when he was that drunk.

When it seemed like the main attraction was over, Baekhyun grumbled, “Finally!” And Taemin mumbled something along the lines of, “I can sleep now.” Steady breathing filled the room again.

Everyone else had fallen back asleep, yet Taeyong’s eyes were on the ceiling. He couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his head. He glanced at the hallway to see a light dimly shining from underneath Ten’s door. He had to be awake too.

If you could be brave, then Taeyong convinced himself he could be as well. He crawled out of his makeshift bed and tiptoed over to Ten’s room. He could do this…

[ts-unpopular-opinions]

Side Tracks opinions part 3: Logan

(Here I go again! Logan’s playlist is a bit more straightforward than the other bois, so heres hoping this one doesn’t take me as long 🤞)

1) The Elements: Not much to say. It just a literal musical list of the periodic table of elements. You can’t get much more Logan than that 😂 Also, Logan likes chemistry!

2) White and Nerdy: Apart from the obvious listing of nerdy things and the legitimate title, Logan feels like he doesn’t always get taken seriously enough by the other sides (“I wanna roll with the gangstas, But so far they all think I'm too White and nerdy” “I wanna bowl with the gangstas, But, oh well, it's obvious I'm White and nerdy”). Basically Logan is a big nerd and a dork. He knows that and he’s worried that sometimes it ostracizes him from the others.

3) Algorithm: Logan doesn’t understand humans very well, at least, he doesn’t understand anything but the logical aspect of humans and the world. He has a different view on life than the other sides (“Supercomputer status, walkin' along streets”). He thinks that the dilemmas and problems in the world would not exist if it wasnt for humans throwing a wrench into all of it with their feelings and emotions (“Humans don't understand, humans will sell a lie. Humans gotta survive, we know we gon' die. Nothing can live forever, you know we gon' try. Life, is it really worth it?”). As the song puts it, Logan believes that the theoretical algorithm of life is perfect, and he doesn’t understand why it needs to get muddied and ruined by simple human issues (“Looking for something worth it, the algorhythm is perfect, mmh”).

4) Fitter Happier: This song is interesting because it shows us the innerworkings of Logan’s thought process. A lot of what he does involves simply planning daily tasks (things as small as drinking or eating) based on what he knows is most healthy for Thomas. The song completely lacks any sense of feeling or emotion and is, as I stated, a legitimate list of things to do in a day. All tasks are put in place to keep Thomas fitter and happier, however, Logan doesn’t have a grasp on emotions and clearly doesn’t know all of the things that Thomas needs to be happy AND healthy. I’ll just list some interesting daily tasks in the song here: “Regular exercise at the gym, three days a week” “Eating well, no more microwave dinners and saturated fats” “Careful to all animals, never washing spiders down the plughole” “Favours for favours, fond but not in love” “Still cries at a good film” “Still kisses with saliva”. As the song goes on, you kind of get a sense that Logan is losing his grip on Thomas, or doesn’t understand why Thomas isn’t feeling satisfied with the plan that, to him, is perfect. Thomas feels trapped in the life that Logan plans for him, and Logan does not understand why that is (“A pig in a cage on antibiotics” “No chance of escape”). There are also a lot of points in the song where Logan shows that he finds emotions to be a weakness, or something to hide away (“Will not cry in public” “Nothing so childish” “No paranoia”).

5) Medicine: I’m not 100% sure what this song is about, but it talks a lot about ancient philosophy. Basically being curious about the world and people in it. I’m guessing that Logan just likes philosophy and thinks that people should always stay curious. Logan really values curiosity and thinking (of course).

6) The Watchtower: This ones... interesting to say the least. If you’re a fan of the broken blue crayon theory you may want to look into this song a bit more. The song talks about being broken and wanting to restart things, possibly showing that Logan will crack at somepoint and need to reevaluate how he’s been handling things (“I'm breaking, I need another start. Far away, From the city lights.”). Ultimately, I think this song is about Logan’s neutrality over all the situations that the group handles. He doesn’t really see problems as good or bad, because he can see logical scenarios with both options (“From the watchtower, We can see things coming. Good or bad”). He knows that this mentality makes him a bit unlikeable because the other sides want him to side with them, but he doesn’t really mind (“I don't mind, If I'm impopular-ar.”).

7) The Breach: Another interesting one which I feel like could have two meanings. My first take was that this song was about Virgil escaping the dark side of Thomas’ mind and mixing in with the light sides. Logan wasn’t quite sure how to process this new arrival at the begining and had no control over his escape (“Generally operating normally, A small anomaly has become evident” “There is spiking in the pulse of a member of the cargo” “First: the recommended course of action should be to Administer a sedative to all the cargo via ventilation” “Now: one specifically is up and moving to the door”). After looking into the lyrics a bit more though, it seemed like a lot of them could be applied to Janus as well, specifically his first appearance when he was disguised as patton. Logan knew from very early on the Janus was taking pattons spot, but was unable to say or do anything about it due to Janus being the only one with “the access code” (“The ship is fully capable of automating this But requires an approval code from the administration” “He has found the access panel situated in the floor. He is entering the codes and overriding has begun. Reading rage in the nervous system, nothing can be done”). Either way you see it, I’m nearly positive it is about a dark side coming out to the light and Logan not being able to control it.

8) The Letter C: I LOVE THIS ONE 😂 And it’s the first in our list of songs that Logan vent’s about Roman in! The premise of the song is that someone insulted the main singers rap and so the main singer goes off about the comeback he wished he would have used to tell this guy off. It’s honestly such a funny song and I couldn’t give it the justice it deserves here by just listing the lyrics. It gives off huge rap battle vibes and I’m sure Logan would have been imagining the one who insulted him as Roman. Here’s just some great lines that I’d like to point out: “Man I wish I could’ve hit him with a zinger. Should’ve served him with the verbal equivalent of a middle finger.” “I’d say, "Are you insured medically? ‘Cause you sure better be When you’re broken in half from provokin’ the wrath” ““Aw shit!” “Oh crap!” Everybody within earshot would be like, “Oh snap!” I’d high five all around while the guy falls down in a ball on the ground” “I pull out a sharpie marker, Narrow my eyes through my Warby Parkers. Like, “Watch who you’re f-in’ with, with your f-in’ ish””.

9) Galaxy Song: Logan trying to calm Thomas down in the only way he knows how: Gushing about how great the natural world is (“Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving” “Now the sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see, Are moving at a million miles a day” “Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars” “And our galaxy itself is one of millions of billions In this amazing and expanding universe”). It’s cute, its wholesome, and Logan tries his best to be comforting 🖤 (“So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure, How amazingly unlikely is your birth; And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space, Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth!”).

10) Streaks: Logan explains to Thomas that growing up is a process that he needs to experience. He understands that it’s hard and scary, but he believes that if you follow the plan and stay in the lines, everything will work out alright (“You can decide on the colors that you like As long as you stay in the lines” “All these years of filling out papers, Building a future, keeping your head down. Tryin' to keep a head on your shoulders” “Cause It's all a piece of the plan. It's something You'll understand When you're older” “Give em what they need to move on, then you let them go”). As he’s explained in canon, he doesn’t really see room for taking a lot of creative liberties in life, and he believes Thomas should follow the mold set out for everyone in life. That’s the logical way to survive anyways.

11) What I do for You: (This song and the next song feel pretty connected to me, so keep that in mind) In this song, Logan really shows his pride and ego. He believes he is the most important side for Thomas and that he will get Thomas the furthest in life (“I want you to survive” “I'm your only hope, I'm your savior too. Every single test You've been ever carried through”). Despite his superiority complex, he knows that Thomas doesn’t see Logan as important as he should. Logan knows how much he does for Thomas but is a bit annoyed that Thomas never seems to notice (“I couldn't ever give up on you, But don't thank me”).

12) Erase Me: Oooh boy. This ones heavy... Logan is PISSED. The whole song feels like a jab at Thomas, daring him to get rid of Logan to see what happens. Logan still feel important and knows his necessity as part of Thomas, but he’s frustrated with the lack of recognition he gets for all of the things he does (“Would it be easier? To just delete, our pages And the plans we've made” “Erase me, so you don't have to face me. Put me in ground and move the daisies” “So what will you do? With no me for you” “Erased me, what the fuck is this? You're crazy, Turn around and do each time, Replace me”). Logan sounds MAD in this song, something that he’s shown in canon quite a few times. It’s interesting that Logan alone seems to be the only side whose shown such anger and furstration, this song just adding to his list of instances. I’m not sure what that could mean going forward...

13) Art is Dead: Well what do yah know? Another rant song for Roman! We all know how Logan feels about Thomas’ choice of career as an entertainer and this song is basically just that. Logan can’t understand Roman’s dreams and aspirations for Thomas because they don’t make any logical sense to him (“ Have you ever been to a birthday party for children And one of the children won't stop screaming Cuz he's just a little attention attractor. When he grows up to be a comic or actor He'll be rewarded for never maturing, For never understanding or learning That every day can't be about him. There's other people, you selfish asshole!”) Logan would rather Thomas take up a job that is benefiting society and making his world a better place (“Cause I wanted my name in lights When I could have fed a family of four For forty fucking fortnights”). Roman’s self-centered and fantastical view on Thomas’ future is just childish to Logan and he feels like Thomas may one day grow out of it (“I'm just a kid And maybe I'll grow out of it”).

14) Equation: Oh man... I just don’t know. The song mentions a mom and dad, so I automatically go to a younger Thomas and his younger version of Logan. The song just asks a bunch of questions that feel like things a little kid might ask (“Have I made you cross? Have I made you sad? Have I made you proud Mom?” “How white is the snow, Does it matter after all?Will I ever learn How to fly like a birds?” “Are you going to school? Are you far from home? Are you well alone Dad? Will I be a brave? Will I be a bright? Will I be a good grown up?”). Logan may have represented more of Curiosity in Thomas’ younger years than Logic. A lot of Logan’s songs have an encompasing theme of wonder and curiosity being amazing things to have. I think Logan really values that part of himself/Thomas.

15) Sunrise: Yes! The love song everyone! I’ll shut that down right away and say that Logan DOES NOT UNDERSTAND LOVE. He isn’t even capable of “love” as some of the other side may be. He of course understands love and how it works, but it’s merely a process to him, and a word which he’s openly stated that he doesn’t like to use. So lets try to look at this from Logan’s perspective. The song is literally about learning spanish, yes its clearly romantic, but its about learning spanish. Something that Logan has shown an interest in since wayyyy back at the begining of the series. I like to imagine that this song came up in Thomas’ playlist and Logan was overjoyed that Thomas was not only learning something from the song, but also learning spanish!

16) One More Time with Feeling: This one feels kind of tough to crack. To me, I get the feeling that Logan’s again talking about the others and the fact that they don’t listen to him. He prepares his words and hopes to get through to them, but is only welcomed by blank faces and misunderstanding (“Everyone takes turns. Now it's yours to play the part And they're sitting all around you, Holding copies of your chart, And the misery inside their eyes is Synchronized and reflecting into yours”). After getting shut down, Logan tries again ‘with feeling this time’, hoping to get through, but it falls flat over and over again (“Hold on. One more time with feeling. Try it again, breathing's just a rhythm. Say it in your mind until you know that the words are right”). Logan has been trying really hard to appeal to the others in different way, but if seems like it never works in his opinion (“You thought by now you'd be So much better than you are. You thought by now they'd see That you had come so far”). He want’s to finally be shown the respect that he believes he deserves and hopes to one day be loved by the others and much as they love each other (“And the pride inside their eyes Would synchronized into a love you've never known. So much more than you've been shown”).

17) In My Mind: Logan has a drastically different view of Thomas’ future than is actually the case (“In a future five years from now. I'm one hundred and twenty pounds, And I never get hung over Because I will be the picture of discipline” “And I will be someone I admire And it's funny how I imagined That I would be that person now, But it does not seem to have happened” “Maybe I've just forgotten how to see That I am not exactly the person that I thought I'd be”). He’s realized that he has some unrealistic expectations for Thomas and that’s odd to him as, logically, things should have played out how he thought they would. At the end of the song, Logan seems to accept the fact that even though Thomas hasn’t strictly followed the plan that Logan expected, he’s still doing great and succeeding at life (“I am exactly the person that I want to be”).

18) Not Perfect: This song has a lot of lyrics, but most of them can be taken at face value. Logan recognizes that everything in Thomas’ life (his world, his country, his house, his body, and his brain) is not perfect. I’m sure it’s a metaphor for Logan realizing that he, himself, is not perfect and he’s begining to realize that he can’t solve every problem.

19) Human: This song is also long. REALLY LONG. But thankfully it is fairly straight forward. When life is getting Thomas (or any of the sides down) Logan will list facts about their life as a human that are supposed to be comforting or inspirational. It’s basically just like Galaxy song, but a bit more personal and loving. Here’s just some cute quotes from it to keep you all going: “For you are a force of skin & nails & heart. A walking Monae, you're breathing art” “The average human heart will beat over 100 million times in one lifetime. I'm sure you'll find someone who won't mind skipping one for you” “You need to grow up. You need to grow out of things. When something doesn't belong, even your body knows when it's time for that thing to be Replaced” “15 million blood cells are Destroyed in a human body every second. If your body can get over it You can get over that last relationship”). Basically Logan trying to ground Thomas in reality to make him realize that everything he’s going through is just human.

20) Time Adventure: (ughhh this song make me cry every time I hear it) That being said, I was a bit surprised to hear this on Logan’s album and not Pattons. Not only that, but it’s his finishing song. The song is all about growing up and how, even though time passes, you will always have the good memories that you built along the way. It’s also about how, no matter how much time passes, the singer and the person theyre singing about will always be friends. Seems kind of like a weird song choice for Logan right? It seems like it needs to include Patton in someway... So perhaps its Logan trying to comfort Patton. Patton has shown a fear of growing up and changing, so perhaps telling him that he’ll always have a friend in Logan no matter how the times change is something that Logan does to ease his worries.

(Oh boy... this one took a long time 😅 Sorry about that! Like usual, let me know what you think and give your own opinions if you’d like!)

[studywithdanielle]

10 Questions Challenge

14 JUL 2020

Thank you @studywithprincess for asking me to take part in this!

1. How would you describe Monday?

Well ... that depends if I’ve done my homework or not 😅. Sometimes it’s a day I’m dreading. More often than not, it’s a countdown marker to me living my best life in summer (but that’s not happening anymore - this is looking like study leave 😭). And other times, when I’ve actually got my act together, Mondays are an awesome fresh start I need. Then again, those days are far and few in between 😂.

2. What country would you most like to visit and why?

Oooooooooh, there’s so many, I can’t pick just one!

Australia - I actually have family there and I’d love to visit them but why is it so. far. away?

Ivory Coast - I’m part Ivorian and I really want to be able to go there with my sister and speak French when I’m fluent. Gotta do it for the culture.

Japan - Okay but who doesn’t want to visit Japan?

Iceland - I went to Iceland in 2019 and it’s got to be one of my favourite countries. It’s so beautiful but the roads? It’s like a free trip to a theme park and I thought I was going to die 😪.

Brazil - I really really really want to do a community project in the favelas in Brazil. Plus Portuguese? Sign me right up.

Morocco - See if this year had gone to plan (ahem, corona) I should be wandering in the mountains right now for Gold D of E. But since that’s not happening, I definitely want to go another time.

US - Again, if this year had gone to plan, I should’ve visited New York for an MUN conference. Yeah, the timing was bad (I’m talking clashing with mock week bad 🤧) but I was so excited. Anyways, I’m grateful I’m even alive to have another chance to go there 🥺.

3. If you could have a superpower, what would it be?

Time travel. I’d basically be immortal 😏.

4. What’s one book you think everyone should read?

Okay, I’ve got two. You, you reading this, YOU NEED TO READ LITTLE FIRES EVERYWHERE AND BEARTOWN.

... Don’t ask questions. Just read them.

5. If you could pick a season to have all year round what would it be?

I live in the UK so we basically have no consistency (remember Beast from the East in April?!) but I’d pick summer. Specifically summer in northern Spain - it has the perfect heat : breeze ratio.

6. Have you conquered any fears? If yes, what is it and how? If no, what is it?

I feel like I’ve conquered quite a few even in this quarantine. The biggest one is getting over my fear of rejection / not being liked. How? Things only grow if you feed them. I stopped doing specifically for the approval of others, focused on things other than social media and learnt to not base the goodness of my actions on someone’s response.

7. What extinct species would you want to resurrect if you could?

The Saber Tooth Tiger. Yeah, it could kill me but those teeth ... swoon-worthy 😍🤣.

8. Describe your favourite colour without saying it?

Sophisticated, warm, metallic and kind of millennial-esque. *whispers* guess what it is 👀

9. Who inspires you the most?

My mum (yes, with the u). I’m realising more and more that I’m almost as stubborn as she is which is both incredible and depressing.

10. What’s something you love the smell/scent of?

Hmmmmm. Can’t lie, I’m not really into smells like that so I can’t pick one. I’m looking at all you people who like the smell of sharpie - it’s whack 😭.

Thanks again for tagging me, Princess 🥰!

I nominate:

@lattesandlearning @oracleofdelythi @backpackcrumbs @epicstudyings @alevelblr @rainisstudying @lantern-academia @caffinated-rey @katistudies @futuristicgirlfrommars

And your questions are:

What’s your biggest regret (that you’re willing to share)?

What does your name mean?

What is something you admire about someone you really don’t like?

How’s life?

If you could trade lives with anyone, who would you trade lives with?

Describe your favourite book in 3 words.

How’s your heart?

Would you say your life is organised? If so, how do you organise your life? If not, why?

Who’s your style icon?

What would your dream bedroom look like?

[hybristoo]

Vainglorious Vigilantes

Request: “ok ok… so I was sitting there hot sauce on my tiddies and I thought of a request. So I’ve never really seen this done before and hopefully I explain this in a way you can understand because I have dumb bitch syndrome. anyways, maybe the reader could mayhaps be batman and joker ( whichever of ur choosing ) could just subtly flirt with them. And reader is just done with his shit but also flirts back. This is a mess I’m sorry LMAO! ty tho!”

Synopsis: Reader is a vigilante, and tonight, they have to protect a criminal from the [Heath Ledger] Joker. 

Words: 1’849

Protecting-Gotham-and-its-people-it’s-STUPID WHORE

Such were the words plastered on the publicity poster. However, it being defaced, both your caricature (drawn brawnier and mightier than you actually were) and pseudonym (certainly not “Stupid Whore”) were scribbled over with red sharpie. Your eyes were crudely crossed out and there was a bullet wound etched on your forehead. The dysphemism for you was written in scraggly letters. 

Perhaps you would have found this vandalization disturbing if you’d had any hand in making this poster. However, as the logo in the bottom right suggested, it was commissioned and distributed by the RGC - the Royal Gotham Coalition, where Royal is written in obnoxious cursive. A group of rich Gothamites who liked to pat themselves on their back and would rather spend money on propaganda such as this than actual improvements. 

Disturbing or not, it did tell you something about the man you were begrudgingly protecting: he was not a big fan. 

“I see you’ve found my art. Do you like it? Should I start a gallery perhaps? I have one for all you types. I’ll call it The Vainglorious Vigilantes.” 

It must be common knowledge at this point that anybody working for the Boyles must be in some way vile. That they must have some deep-rooted moral sickness. However, to say that you didn’t have a particularly negative bias towards Elijah the Nose, consigliere of the Boyle family, would be a lie. Perhaps it was his high ranking position, his ability to escape justice, or that terribly grating voice of his. Regardless, it was an understatement to say it took every nerve in your body to resist punching him right then and there. 

You glared at him, lips pulling into a tight frown.“Have you no sense of self-preservation? Gratitude?” That you had decided to defend him was beyond your own comprehension; a disjoint decision made by the angel on your shoulder.

“I didn’t ask for your help. I don’t need your help,” Elijah asserted, spitting on the ground and leaning further into the leather couch. It would have been convincing if not for his bouncing leg. 

“You did ask for trouble, though,” you walked over to him, hovering above him. “Crazy fucking clown? That’s really what you decided to call the Joker? For everyone to know?” You crossed your arms. Admittedly, hearing about it had been funny. But if the guy was going to die for insulting someone, make it creative. 

“You’d do the same in my position.” He furrowed his eyebrows, a flame igniting in his eyes. “He stole our fuckin’ plans. Executing them one night before us. He’s toyin’ with us. That money was ours.” 

“No, it was the property of Gotham Jewelers. You were going to steal it.” 

Elijah released a frustrated roar, pushing himself onto his feet. First, he paced towards you, making your hands twitch towards your weapon, then he paced to the other side of the room. He continuously peaked out of his curtains, biting his nails. It was plain to anyone watching he was more nervous than he would admit despite the dozens of soldati he had stationed below.

Considering the fact that he hadn’t even locked the windows when you snuck through them, you could understand why. Was he, in what could be his last moments, introspective enough to understand his own limited intelligence was not nearly enough to protect him? (You doubted it).

Not inclined to set him at ease, you plopped yourself into the couch, only subtly looking around. You’d already rigged the room and told Elijah to dismiss every soldati in the room. You knew Joker - or at least you liked to think you did. He wasn’t crazy, he was astute. To assume him a raving madman was a one-way ticket to a broken collarbone (you spoke from experience). Although you felt the room was quite Joker proof, relax was the last thing you’d do.

You wanted to catch him and lock him up for good. Gotham deserved that much. 

And maybe that was why you decided to protect Elijah. Not in a sudden action of complete martyrdom, but to use him as bait. Or maybe, somehow, you’d grown attached to him and his complete inability to commit crimes which made your self-imposed job easier. 

One thing that could be said about Elijah was that he liked to live lavishly. His bedroom, in which you now resided, was an eclectic mix of authentic victorian and contemporary styles. It was a constant reiteration of Is-That-A-Rembrandts and That’s-Worth-More-Than-Mes. It made you frown to think it was made off the backs of Gotham’s people. 

No, it definitely wasn’t attachment to Elijah which made you stick around.

You were staring at what had to be a recreation of Klimt’s The Kiss. You weren’t exactly an art appraiser but it struck you how authentic it looked, how authentic it smelled when you got too close. 

“Ohh, Klimt. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.”

You whipped your head around, your weapon entering your grasp before you could truly process what was happening. It was disorienting, the way your courage dropped into your stomach when you saw Elijah in the Joker’s grasp. A stalemate was immediately introduced as a knife was pressed to Elijah’s jugular. He cried out, a serenade of hopelessness. 

You were less focused on Elijah’s safety and more focused on the Joker, however. But did the Joker know that? Or could you use that? Damn those indiscernible, dark eyes. 

“I didn’t know you were a man of the bible,” you hummed as you tried to glide closer, shuffling your feet. 

The Joker made a whistling sound. “I’m full of surprises, snookums.”

You resisted cringing, hiding it with a smirk. “Oh, I’m sure, snugglekins,” you breathed, your eyes flickering. Taking the chance, you kicked the coffee table separating the two of you into his shins. He was immediately thrown off balance, just enough for you to dive and grab Elijah, ragdolling him out of the Joker’s grasp. “But so am I.”

The Joker attempted to grab you, his hand leaping for your arm, but you narrowly took a step back last second, almost tripping on the couch. 

“Oh, honey-darling, you’re going to break my heart,” he cooed. 

You were both still for a moment, before he lunged at you, grabbing your shoulders and throwing you aside, attempting to break your balance. You knocked your head against his, hearing something crack - you weren’t sure if it was you or him. You were aptly disoriented when you slashed a dagger his way, only to realize he was out of reach. A punch found itself in your abdomen before you could register it was coming. 

You hunched over, gripping your stomach and letting out a hoarse cough. By the time you had oriented yourself onto your feet, the Joker had Elijah in his grasp again. 

“Is your ego so fragile you walk right into this set-up just to get this man?” You hissed. You slowly backed yourself towards the bookshelf parallel to the Joker, slipping your hand between the books. “You take me as a fool if you think I’m going to let you kill him and walk away.” You pressed the button, sending the entire house into a frenzy. The alarm set-up was hastily made, but it seemed it worked.

He made a whistling sound, his eyes glistening as he listened to the sounds of dozens of soldati moving around in the rooms surrounding them. You couldn’t hold back a smile, as if to say, your move.

“Who’s to say I’m here to kill him? Maybe I just wanted to see you,” he purred, the knife closing in on Elijah’s throat. You took a daring step forward, testing his limits. “A-ta-ta, one more step and the curtains won’t be the only red thing around here.” Did you even care? Maybe not, but if Elijah was alive what would stop him from attempting to leave? You needed to corner him and fast. 

“I, ah, yes, as I was saying,” he cleared his throat, using his free hand to comb his hair out of his face. “I wanted ta see you. Not that stupid mask of yours, hm? Let me see what’s behind all of,” he made a circular motion with his knife, pointing at your face, “that.”

“Oh yeah? Are you going to reveal what’s under all the paint, then?”

He chuckled “Unlikely.” 

You trudged towards him as he trudged backwards, despite his warnings. “Is that a no?” he hummed, watching you closely. You, on the other hand, were watching where he was going. You were hoping he was going to set off one of your traps. You didn’t say anything, trying to push him just a little further.

“That’s a shame.” You were pulled out of your focus as blood spurted onto the floor. Elijah’s blood. You were shocked - somehow you didn’t think he’d do it - not yet anyways, and there was esotericism to seeing Elijah’s limp body crumble onto the ground. He was dead. The Joker, on the other hand, was way less concerned with that. 

“Well, the party’s over,” he sighed, “You’re no fun at all, Kitten.” He continued backing away, now at a much quicker pace. He was heading for the windows. 

“You thought it would be that easy?”

“No.”

You growled, sprinting towards him. He tried to push the windows open, having opened the lock at the bottom. The brief look of confusion was too satisfying. You grabbed his collar and shoved him up against the wall. “Your reign over this city is over, Joker.” On cue, sirens appeared in the distance. “The soldati wasn’t the only thing alarmed.” 

The look on his face was indescribable. You were expecting disappointment, anger, fear even, but instead, he had this crazy look in his eyes and a grin only widened by his scars. A laugh bubbled from his throat.  “You ever played poker, Doll?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You had no idea how to answer. This was no doubt a part of his anticks but, you couldn’t help but listen.

“Well, in the business, we say: As long as you’ve got ‘a chip and a chair’, there’s still hope.” He let out another howling laugh. You shoved him onto the ground, moving to put him into binds when you felt a sharp pain at the back of your head. You toppled over, falling onto the ground with a thud. Your vision was a pool of colours and vague shapes. You felt how the Joker hovered over you, a blur of red, white and green filling your vision.

“You do well to remember that next time.” You tried to push yourself away, trying to orient yourself in the expanding room. The other person, Joker’s helper, who were they? Where were they? You looked around, the world remains a blur. 

The Joker grabbed your face, forcing you to turn his way, and as your vision sunk into darkness, you heard a collection of last words. “Let’s see who’s under the mask.” 

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (33/?)

“Good.”

Kunikida walked around me, his gray-green eyes sweeping over my body as he took in my form.

“That’s right, Kusunoki. Keep your shoulders squared. Just like that.”

He kept circling me, his eyes traveling from my shoulders to my arms as I moved to adjust my stance. When he came to my right elbow, he paused, the neutral line of his lips dropping into a thoughtful frown as his gaze settled on my right hand.

“Kusunoki...”

I swallowed nervously.

“Y-yes?”

I felt the heat of a faint blush rising to my cheeks as he came a little closer. One large hand settled warmly on mine.

“Make sure to keep your thumb tucked under your fingers when you’re making a fist,” Kunikida said, gently taking my hand and folding my thumb into the correct position.

“If you don’t, you’ll break your thumb when you land the punch.”

“Right...”

I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly too dry to form the words.

“Thank you, Kunikida-san.”

Kunikida smiled.

“Of course.”

He released my hand and took a step back.

“Now then.”

He pointed his finger at the mannequin in front of me, which was actually just a large inflatable roly-poly toy (okiagari-kobōshi) someone had scrawled an angry face on with a Sharpie.

“Punch him.”

I glanced from Kunikida to the doll, clenching and unclenching my fists in preparation as I stared down the doll with its beady black eyes.

Okay, here goes nothing...

Clenching my fists as tight as I could, I cocked my right arm back exactly the way Kunikida had shown me and released my punch. Wind whistled past my knuckles. A sharp, audible crack echoed throughout the room as my fist made contact with the doll. I looked to Kunikida as it reeled away from me with a loud squeal, my heart pounding in my throat and my fist stinging slightly from the hit.

“Not bad.”

Kunikida’s smile grew just a tiny bit wider and I instantly felt my heart beating faster at the acknowledgment. Nodding approvingly, the tall blonde gestured at the doll, which was slowly but surely uprighting itself on the tatami mat floor.

“Do that again. Other hand this time.”

I nodded back and drew my left fist back, preparing to strike it again.

Day Two: my second training session with Kunikida.

Hoping to spend a little more time with my handsome mentor before training officially began, I decided to arrive a little earlier than I had yesterday—so I could join him for a full meditation session rather than just the tail end of one. To my delight, I ended up arriving at the exact same time as Kunikida and I got to spend a full ten minutes sitting quietly by his side.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

Admittedly, I might’ve been just a little too excited to properly clear my mind and try to actually meditate, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. And at least I was able to think about someone other than Dazai today...

In fact, I was actually kind of excited to continue where we left off yesterday. Sure, maybe Kunikida was wearing a T-shirt under his gi this time (probably for the better. I’d probably die of a thirst-induced nosebleed if things had kept going the way they had) but I’d mentally prepared myself for anything and everything. I was really looking forward to learning how to break away from a sudden grab attack...

Especially if it meant getting to hold or be held by strong, handsome Kunikida...

Unfortunately for me though, after the... incident... Kunikida decided to abandon the grab counters entirely in favor of teaching me how to punch and block instead.

I guess he was still feeling understandably awkward about it.

Darn.

“Good.”

Pulling out his notebook, Kunikida paused to write something down.

“Keep it up, Kusunoki. I want to see you do that a few more times before we move on to blocking.”

I nodded and kept going, alternating between left and right punches as Kunikida walked over to the corner where a group of training dummies stood waiting on standby. I watched as he paused to look them over, his hair gleaming like finespun gold in the early morning light, his pure-white gi stretching over his broad back, his sage-colored eyes soft and contemplative as he studied the mannequins.

If only I could tell him the truth... That I really was okay with what had happened yesterday, that maybe I even liked it.

That I liked him.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, Kunikida turned around to look at me and my fist glanced off the doll’s cheek without actually hitting it.

One corner of his lips quirked upwards in amusement and I was so distracted by the way he was looking at me that it took me a moment to realize that Kunikida Doppo was smirking.

I flushed.

“Concentrate,” Kunikida rumbled, with the barest hint of a laugh.

“S-sorry.”

But my concentration was definitely shot. As I resumed punching at the doll, I found my gaze constantly wandering over to Kunikida, who was now pushing aside a training dummy that looked like it had been clawed by a large cat (probably Atsushi’s doing. If I recalled correctly, his Ability allowed him to transform into a white tiger). I watched him select the least battered wing-chun dummy in the set before forcibly returning my attention to the roly-poly doll I was abusing.

Even though Kunikida was wearing a shirt under his gi today, I could still see the way his muscles tightened as he moved...

“Kusunoki-kun.”

I stopped punching the dummy, which let out one final pained squeak, as Kunikida finally arrived with the wing-chun dummy in tow.

“This,” he said, setting it down in front of me with a heavy thud, “will be our next opponent. I’m going to use this to show you a few different blocking techniques. For that, I’m going to need your help.”

He tapped one of the three wooden pegs on the top row.

“Stand behind the dummy and move the arms towards me. Try to go slow so that you can watch what I’m doing.”

I nodded and got into position, watching and listening carefully as Kunikida taught me the moves. Fortunately, it didn’t take me very long to figure them out and a short while later, we switched off so I could practice.

“Good,” Kunikida said, nodding approvingly as I raised my forearm to block. “Keep that up, Kusunoki-kun. Just remember to concentrate.”

“Yes, sir!” was all I managed to get out before another arm came sliding towards me.

“I think you’re ready for the next phase,” Kunikida decided, the beginnings of a broad grin making its way onto his face.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “What do you think? Want to try it?”

“Next phase?” I parroted, throwing my arm up in time to block another hit.

Kunikida nodded.

“Combining what I’ve taught you so far,” he said, a tiny spark growing in his eye. “I think you’re ready.”

And before I knew what hit me, that gorgeous, devilish smirk reappeared on his face, so fast it was almost out of character. Almost.

He looks so proud...

My heart raced.

I bet this is the face he makes when he’s doing something he’s passionate about.

I could not say no to that face.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Kunikida exclaimed. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. When I move the top arms on this dummy, I want you to duck. When I move the ones in the middle, you block. And when you see an opening of any kind—any that you feel safe taking—I want you to throw a punch.”

He tapped a blank spot in the middle section of the dummy.

“Right here. And don’t worry, I’ll go slow. You ready?”

“Yes!”

And with that, lesson three began. True to his word, Kunikida started slow—slow enough that I was able to get used to the hits fairly quickly. After just a few rounds, I was able to recognize the patterns Kunikida was using and as the opportunities for hits, blocks and ducking began to fall into a steady rhythm, I found my thoughts drifting...

I had no plans to use my Ability on Kunikida for ulterior motives. But was it possible to use my Ability for combat situations? Or to suss out potential enemies?

Kunikida aimed an arm at my head and I ducked.

What if—just what if—I ran into an enemy I was able to touch? Would I be able to use my Ability to tell when attacks were incoming? Or from what direction? Could I use it to save my life or another’s in an actual fight?

“Oda-san took out an entire battalion of soldiers before his demise,” Akutagawa’s voice echoed.

Another wooden arm came at my head and I ducked again.

Oda-san...

As I threw out my next punch, I thought back to the lone grave under the tree in the cemetery.

S. Oda...

I had no proof this was the same person as the “Oda-san” Akutagawa had spoken of in the parking garage. The only things the two seemed to have in common were the fact that both were deceased and they shared a last name—a very common one.

I blocked just as an arm came swinging in from my right.

“When they told me an Ability User who could see the future had appeared once more, I was set on capturing them at all costs... I thought perhaps you were the second coming of Oda-san.”

The top arm swung towards me and I ducked once again.

An Ability User who could see the future, like me...

From what Akutagawa had said, it seemed my Ability was similar to his, this Oda’s. Similar but not the same, apparently. But still useful enough that the Port Mafia had taken an interest in him.

Who was he? And what connection did he have with the Port Mafia?

I heard a soft thwack as my fist made contact with the center of the dummy once again.

Kunikida’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“Kusunoki...”

“Oda-san... That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

Dazai knew of him. And he seemed to know Akutagawa too. Did the rivalry between the Agency and the Port Mafia stretch that far back?

But the way he’d laughed...

“Kusunoki.”

Dazai had laughed almost as if we’d been talking about an old friend...

And his face...

I threw out my left arm just in time to block the incoming hit.

He looked just like Professor Matsuyama did when we stood there in the cemetery in front of Kei’s grave. Such a quiet, yet wistful smile...

Just looking at him made my heart ache...

“Kusunoki!”

I came to with a sharp gasp just as a wooden peg came rushing towards my head.

There wasn’t enough time to block or duck!! What should I—?!

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact. But all that happened was the arm coming to an abrupt stop at my temple. I opened my eyes to see Kunikida, standing on the other side of the wing-chun dummy, his grin now completely gone and his gray-green eyes stern.

“Kusunoki...”

I felt a light tap as Kunikida softly nudged the arm against my head.

“You were distracted,” he said, his frown deepening. “You do realize that in an actual fight, your opponent won’t give you many chances to strike back or defend yourself?”

“I... I know,” I mumbled, a slow flush of shame coloring my ears.

Unable to face him, bowed my head and looked away.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘Sorry?’”

Kunikida’s voice was low, troubled.

“I don’t mean to be harsh with you, Kusunoki-kun, but it’s dangerous for you to lose concentration when you’re in the middle of something like this. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

But as I found myself staring at a tiny bit of tatami unraveling on the floor, I heard Kunikida breathe a very heavy sigh from the other side of the dummy.

“I’m not angry with you, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida said softly, stepping out from behind the dummy. “Nor am I looking for an apology.”

He grew quiet.

“I just want to know if there’s something going on.”

I looked up.

“Huh?”

“You’re still distracted,” Kunikida said, now sounding a touch concerned. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

I hesitated.

Kunikida-san...

He was worried. About me.

I studied the tall, blonde detective’s face, his handsome features tightening in a show of unease. My stomach twisted painfully as I realized I’d done this to him.

I was the reason Kunikida was making such a face right now.

Should I tell him about the grave? Or even the case?

I remembered the way he’d looked at me the night I’d held that glass shard to my neck in the infirmary—the look of absolute horror at what I was about to do.

My stomach tightened further.

Or might it trouble him if he knew what kind of memories this case was about to bring back...?

I looked away.

“I’m alright, Kunikida-san...” I murmured, feeling my bangs shifting slightly over my eyes.

I lifted my hand to tuck them away and smiled.

“It’s really nothing... I was just thinking about my new assignment.”

One of Kunikida’s eyebrows lifted up towards his bangs. He adjusted his glasses and studied me.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “It was a little difficult getting started without a case partner but there’s no need to worry.”

I can’t make Kunikida worry. Not when he’s already doing so much for me...

I dropped my hand.

“Dazai actually helped me yesterday and it’s going okay now.”

At this, Kunikida’s eyes widened.

“Dazai... did?”

“Y-yeah.” I laughed a little. “I know. Surprising, right?”

When Kunikida didn’t speak, I suddenly realized I’d made a mistake.

Oh no. I just insulted his partner...! Quick, Kyou! Think of something nice to say!! About Dazai, as much as it hurts to!

“I—I mean, I know he’s not usually that serious about his work,” I babbled, “but he can be a surprisingly good mentor when he’s trying to be! Don’t you think? If anything—!!”

I flushed, my face suddenly burning like the steadily rising sun.

“I think I’m really lucky! To have both Dazai-san and Kunikida-san as my mentors!”

Agh! I said it!

I couldn’t take it. I turned around to hide my face as Kunikida’s eyes widened even further.

That was embarrassing! SO embarrassing! If only I had the guts to tell Kunikida what I thought of him without having to bring Dazai into it—!!

But maybe one day...?

“Kusunoki-kun...”

Kunikida’s voice was quiet, hesitant. Almost uncharacteristically so.

I turned around to see him standing there with an unreadable look in his beautiful sage-colored eyes.

“Is that...” he started, his gray-green eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t name.

He swallowed.

“Is that what you really think?”

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“It... it is.”

“I see...”

He dropped his gaze. He looked like he was thinking very hard about something.

“...Kunikida-san?”

I took a step towards him.

Why was he looking like that? Did I say the wrong thing?

Did I upset him?

But when Kunikida glanced back up, the unreadable look was no longer visible and I found myself once again looking into the calm eyes of a professional.

I stopped moving towards him.

“Should we... go back to training?” I asked hesitantly.

Kunikida’s brows drew together.

“Training?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “We were working with the dummy?”

“Right...”

He frowned.

“You’re not tired?”

“No, not at all!” I lied, ignoring the subtle ache in my arms. “Honestly, I could even go for another hour if you want!”

Kunikida raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he asked.

Crossing his arms, he came towards me.

“You really want to spend another hour training with me?” Kunikida asked, taking his olive-green notebook back out of his gi.

I could feel myself sweating bullets as his gray-green eyes raked over me.

I was starting to regret my words.

“Uh... yes?”

He sighed.

“You’re pushing yourself again, aren’t you, Kusunoki?” he said, to which my only response was a violent twitch.

Busted.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his expression softening. “If you push yourself too hard too fast, you’re going to make things more difficult for yourself down the line. Not to mention you still have the rest of the work day to get through.”

“Right,” I mumbled, rubbing the top of my head self-consciously even though it didn’t hurt.

“And on that note...”

Kunikida looked to his phone as it began emitting a subtle beeping noise.

“I think that’s all the time we have for today,” he said, silencing the alarm and looking back up at me. “Why don’t we end here and pick back up tomorrow? We actually got a lot further than I was expecting today and you’ve already improved a lot in just a couple sessions.”

He studied me for a moment before speaking again.

“...You practiced at home last night, didn’t you?”

I was taken aback.

“You can tell?”

“I can.”

Kunikida nodded at me and for a moment, there was a flicker of that beautiful smile again, the one he’d worn earlier this morning.

If I didn’t know any better...

I swallowed dryly, my stomach doing a weird sort of flip as I looked at him.

I’d say Kunikida looks proud of me...!

“Keep up the good work, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida said, turning back around to drag the training dummy away. “I’ll see you same time tomorrow morning. Just remember not to overexert yourself in the meantime, okay?”

He shot me a stern look over his shoulder just as I was about to reach for the dummy, to help him put it away.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And Kusunoki?”

I let out a surprised squeak as Kunikida lightly swatted his notebook on top of my head.

Kunikida smiled.

“Don’t forget to concentrate.”

***

“Keep up the good work, Kusunoki-kun...”

I couldn’t help wiggling around a little in a sort of happy dance as I picked up the tea pot and moved it towards the cups I’d been preparing nearby in the break room.

He really was proud of me! I’d done something to impress Kunikida-san!

I thought back to the way he’d looked this morning, that playful smirk, those quiet little grins, those beautiful, absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous smiles...!!

I brought my hand to my cheek and sighed.

These training sessions were great!!

Something hot brushed against my finger and I jerked the teapot away from the first cup just as it began to overflow.

“Oh, shit.”

Kunikida had been telling me to concentrate all morning and here I was zoning out again.

I put the teapot down and sighed.

If I really wanted to be the kind of mentee Kunikida could be proud of, then I really had to start focusing more.

I reached for a towel and began wiping up the spilled tea.

That’s right. Focus, work hard, and someday—maybe someday soon—I could finally confess my feelings to Kunikida. I wanted to see him smile more—wanted to be one of the reasons he smiled every single day!

“Kyou-chan...”

Yes, to hear him call me by my name so casually would be the height of bliss!

“Kyou-chan!!”

I actually jumped as a black-clad hand descended on my shoulder.

I whirled.

“Y-Yosano-sensei?!”

“Daydreaming, are we?” Yosano drawled, looking every bit as amused as she sounded.

She reached over the small puddle I was trying to sop up and picked up the only full teacup on the counter, blowing on it softly before bringing it to her glossy pink lips, which were stretched wide in a very knowing smirk.

“I take it the training session went well?”

“H-how could you tell?” I squeaked, going red yet again.

“Oh, I dunno,” she said, leaning on the counter next to me. Her grin widened. “Might have something to do with that little dance you were doing earlier.”

I flushed even darker.

“You saw that?”

“You were humming too,” she pointed out, taking another sip of her tea. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed! I thought it was cute. I bet Kunikida would find it cute too, if you ever decide to show him.”

“Yosano-sensei!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” she laughed, her violet eyes sparkling as she regarded me. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him, especially if you’re not ready to tell him. I’m just having a little fun with you, that’s all.”

“Thanks,” I breathed, lifting the teapot back up so I could fill the rest of the cups.

“But seriously,” Yosano said, holding out her cup for more tea. “Are you going to tell him any time soon? Because he’s really not good with this kind of thing and if you don’t...”

I put the teapot down as Yosano took her cup with her on her way out of the break room.

“If I don’t...?”

“Ah...”

Yosano paused by the door, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“Sorry, Kyou-chan. I shouldn’t have mentioned that,” she said quietly. “Not my place to. Just... keep in mind what I said, okay?”

“O-okay...”

And with that, she disappeared out into the hallway. Confused, I went out into the hallway with the tray of tea cups and began passing them out to my coworkers.

“He’s really not good with this kind of thing.”

What did she mean by that?

And what was she going to say before she stopped herself?

But as the tray emptied and I went back to my desk, I found my thoughts drifting from Yosano’s cryptic words back to Kunikida’s advice.

Stay focused and work hard. That was the way to the man’s heart.

Which meant it was time to get back to work. If I wanted to make it so that I wasn’t lying to Kunikida about making good headway in my case, I needed to verify the things Professor Matsuyama had said to me yesterday in the cemetery.

I opened my laptop, pulled up the search bar and started typing. A few moments later, I had what I was looking for: news articles from several years back.

The short one mentioning Kei’s suicide was easy enough to find but the information on Kei’s dead parents was a little harder to come by. After about a half hour of searching, I landed upon the obituary. Kei’s parents were indeed long since deceased and the remainder of his family had now moved out of Japan entirely and chosen to settle abroad in the US.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed, staring at the photo of Kei taken in high school, arm in arm with a boy I slowly began to recognize as a much younger Matsuyama Shin. It looked like they were celebrating their scholarships and entry into the university professor Matsuyama now taught at.

They looked like a couple of shounen manga heroes, blissfully unaware of what the future would bring...

I hit print and went to retrieve the documents.

With the police reports and these articles, I’d solved the first part of the case. I now knew exactly who Masaoka Kei was and what his relationship was to Professor Matsuyama.

As for the second part of the case...

“I want you to tell me if Sensei was responsible for Kei-san’s death.”

I placed the articles into the case folder and sighed.

At this point in the investigation, that answer was just about wrapped up as well. Most of the suspicious aspects of the case—the waiving away of the autopsy, the next-of-kin thing, even the professor sneaking off to mourn in private—all of that seemed to check out.

The only thing left unsolved was why the professor felt so guilty about Kei’s suicide.

I bit my lip.

I had promised to leave Natsuki out of any further investigations but I needed another lead if I wanted to close out this final part of the case.

Maybe I should call Nomura again, to give him an update and ask if there was anything else I might be able to look into.

I reached into my bag for my cell phone and immediately groaned when I pulled it back out.

Looks like I’d accidentally opened a video in my web browser while I was busy this morning and now my battery was completely drained. Grumbling to myself, I slid open the drawer that held my spare charger but the first thing I saw when I peeked inside wasn’t the slim white cable I was looking for.

It was the envelope the clerk at the police station had given me.

And Kei’s suicide note was still inside...

Heart pounding, I reached for it with trembling fingers.

Would this give me the answer I was searching for?

I pulled it out and began to read.

“To my dearest Shin-kun...”

My eyes widened.

It was addressed directly to the professor?

I placed the letter on the desk and smoothed it out on the polished wooden surface so I could see it better.

“To my dearest Shin-kun...

By the time you read this letter, I will have departed this world for the next. I apologize that you have to be the one to find me like this but I hope you won’t think too badly of me for it. It wasn’t my intention to leave you and Natsuki in this way. In fact, up until two days ago, I believed I would be parting ways with you at the airport in a few months’ time, with each of us heading for a future much brighter than the ones we’d imagined for ourselves in high school.

Shin-kun, I couldn’t be more proud of you.

I still remember when you had remedial lessons, when you’d come to me for help at the end of the day and I would jokingly offer my tutoring services in exchange for favors or snacks. I remember the day my parents died and how you’d been the one to comfort me when I was crying in the library. And I remember the day we’d arrived together at the university and how you’d fearlessly stepped through the archway while I faltered and watched you go on ahead.

And now, you’ve done it.

You, my best friend and brother, have been accepted into the program of your dreams. In several years time, you will be a history professor at your chosen university, lecturing starry-eyed students while your research papers make it into journals read all around the world. And not only that, but you’ll have Natsuki-chan, while I...”

Pausing for a moment, I squinted at the page and brought it closer to my face.

The ink looked like it was running here and the page was slightly stained...

“Are these...?”

“Natsuki-chan, huh?” said a voice in my ear. “She sounds cute. She single?”

I let out a surprised squeak.

Clapping my hand over my burning ear, I turned to my right to see Dazai perched at the edge of my desk, a thick bundle of electrical cables clutched in one hand.

“What the—?! Dazai-san,” I choked out, pushing my chair away from him as he looked at me.

I didn’t take my hand off of my ear.

“What are you doing at my desk?”

“I wanted to borrow this extension cord,” he said plainly, reaching over my mug of tea with one long, bandaged arm. “You’re not using it, right?”

“I am using it!” I snapped, pushing him away. “Can’t you see I’ve got my phone plugged in? And besides...”

I eyed the collection of electrical cables in his hand.

“Don’t you think you already have enough?”

“Hardly,” he snorted, trying to get around me as I kept pushing the cord away. “These are all way too short. I’m gonna need a bunch more if I want to make it work.”

“Make what work?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Oh, just a small project that may or may not grant me the painless death I’ve been longing for,” Dazai quipped.

Brightening up, he turned to me and smiled.

“In other words, I’m braiding these together to make a noose! Wanna help?”

Mortified, I pounced on my extension cord.

“Absolutely not!”

“Aww, c’mon, Kusunoki!” he whined, his eyes getting all big and puppy-like. “I’m not asking you to join me, I could just use a little help getting there! Please, pretty please?”

“I said no!” I exclaimed, my grip tightening on my extension cord.

“Hey, Kusunoki-kun...”

A shiver traveled through my arm and up my spine as Dazai dropped his voice low, his tone sultry and inviting as he spoke right into my ear again. I felt the heat in my face intensify as he began stroking my hand—the one that was still gripping the cable—with one long, thin finger.

“Come on, please?” he whispered, his eyes growing dark. “If this works, I won’t ask you for anything else ever again. I promise.”

His breath was so warm against my cheek. His brown eyes sparkled as they looked into mine.

“Be my accomplice?” he whispered.

Dazai smiled.

“Please...?”

“Please, please, keep what I’ve said to you today from my wife...”

I gasped.

Suddenly I was staring not into the eyes of the attractive, bandaged brunette but the eyes of Professor Matsuyama. I could practically feel the sea breeze on my face as it swept through the graveyard and as my mouth hung slack, I recalled the way the professor had gingerly touched his fingertips to the headstone before him and whispered the words aloud...

“I’ll be seeing you.”

Panic surging through me, I reached out and seized his arm.

“No, don’t!!”

CRASH.

All eyes in the room turned to me as I felt something warm and wet dripping down my arm and onto my skirt. I looked down to see that I’d knocked over the mug of jasmine tea that had been sitting on my desk and as I slowly took in the scene around me, I realized two things.

One, I was clutching Dazai’s bandaged forearm with both hands as if my life depended on it.

Two...

The tea had spilled all over my table and my copy of Kei’s letter was now completely illegible.

[pollylynn]

Title: On the Dotted Line WC: 2000

He offers her vast sums of money to help him sign copies of Wild Storm. He repeatedly offers, and she can’t help doing the math on how many books he could have signed in the time it takes him to make each elaborate, indecent proposal. 

“We are talking obscene amounts of money, Beckett.” He follows her around the loft, hands clasped before him in supplication. “Truly obscene.” 

“What do I want money for?” she asks as she swats at him and dances away. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve got a white whale on the line?” 

“You haven’t quite landed him yet,” he grumbles, but his eyes sparkle with anticipation. “What if he dies of  . . .  of toxic Sharpie inhalation or something before you can say ‘I do’?” 

“My heart . . . and my well-rested hands will go on.” Her words are steely enough, but she   produces a silver spray paint pen from somewhere up her sleeve and offers it to him.

“Oh, so you think I can be bought with prestidigitation and gimmicky pens?” He gives her a haughty, wounded look, but he’s too much of a kid not to love the new toy. He races back to the desk and reapplies himself to the last of his pre-wedding tasks. The tactic gets him through five, ten, fifteen more books before he’s after her for help again. 

She doesn’t help. She will not help. She tells him even his groupies deserve the Real McCoy, and she shames him when he brags about Tom Sawyering Alexis into mastering the swoop of the R, the sharp, arcing C and the comparative scribble of the other letters when both expediency and style matter. 

“I’ll have you know, her efforts did not go unrewarded,” he informs her with a wounded sniff. “She got some choice swag back in the good old days.” 

“Choice swag for child labor. Is that how you sleep at night?” She tosses a glitter gel pen at him, mostly to see if the trick will work twice, but a little bit as a diversion, too. It doesn’t work on either front. 

“You’re going somewhere?” He practically bats the pen out of midair and on to the desk. He sets down the book in his hand—half signed, no doubt— and trots after her. “Where are you going? Take me with you, please.” 

“I’m going to my dad’s.” She moves to lift her hair free of her jacket collar, but he beats her. He shakes it out and sets her lapels to rights. He gives her his most devastating puppy dog eyes, but she stands firm. “You’re not invited.” 

“He’s going to talk you out of it.” His hold on the front of her coat tightens. “You want him to talk you out of it. You’ve come to your senses. That’s why you’re willing to let me die—literally die—of paper cuts.”

“You know I wasn’t gonna let my dad talk me out of it.” She uncurls his fingers one by one. “But all this drama about signing a few books? I might hear him out?” “A few?” He stands, aghast, as she makes her break for the door. “Five hundred is not ‘a few’ I seem to recall someone freaking out about five hundred of something not so long ago.” 

“Oh, hey! There’s an idea.” She takes a theatrical pause halfway out the door. She tosses a wicked over her shoulder. “Signed copies for every wedding guest!” 

“You’re mean!” His voice carries through the door. It carries most of the way to the elevator. “You are a mean woman, Kate Beckett.” 

*************************************

“Katie, hi!” Her dad’s smile is bright enough when he opens the door. The hug he wraps her up in is warm enough, but he seems almost surprised to see her. 

“Hi, Dad!” She returns the hug. She pulls back and stands on his doorstep, more than a little confused when he makes no move to invite her in. “We did say three, right? Three today?” 

She fumbles her phone out of her pocket as if to check her calendar. She panics a little, worried that with so much going on, she’s managed to jumble dates and times, whens and wheres, But her gesture breaks whatever spell he has been momentarily—and uncharacteristically—under. 

“Three. Yes, of course, sweetheart.” He steps back and gestures her inside. He takes his time closing the door behind her, as though he’s reluctant to leave the foyer.  “I’ve got . . . well I’m sure I’ve got what you need pulled out and dusted off.” 

His voice is a little too hearty as he leads her down the hall and into the dining room. His place is as tidy and spare as ever, save for the banker’s box that takes up a substantial chunk of the table. 

She can see the files inside, set neatly on their spines with the labeled manila tabs staggered and easily thumbed through. She can see from the way two or three sit not quite flush with the others that he has been thumbing through them in search of the certified copy of her birth certificate that she’s come to get. 

“It’s here. Vital documents. This is where right where it’ll be,” he says sounding . . . flustered. If he were anyone but her dad—her matter-of-fact, brass tacks, tell-it-like-it-is dad—she’d say he sounds embarrassed. “I just got a little sidetracked.”

His chin drops. She follows his gaze to a folder half hidden behind the lid propped against the side of the box. It lies open, and she sees now that it’s sitting exactly in front of a chair pushed back from the table, out of sync with the others, perfectly aligned. 

Her fingers trail along the polished, beveled edge of the table as she steps around to the place he’s only just risen from. She knows what she’ll see before she plants a palm and leans over the folder. It’s a long moment, though, before she can calm herself enough to settle her gaze. She knows what it is that’s sidetracked her dad, what has him looking closer to sentimental than she’s seen him in years. 

“Affidavit, License, and Certificate of Marriage,” she reads aloud softly. 

Her eyes scan down the page slowly. She takes her time with it, savoring the familiar slant of her mother’s neatly printed capitals. She grins at the playful swoop of her Ts and the precise, intent action that comes alive in every stroke. She lingers over the address, the date, the dry details. She lets the anticipation build a moment longer, then feels the smile spreading through her whole body as her gaze falls at last on the playful, absolutely distinct elegance of her mother’s signature. 

“I know you’re busy.” Her dad steps close beside her. His arm comes around her shoulder and he laughs, shamefacedly, as he gives in to the temptation to reach out and rest his fingertips on the generous loop of the J. “I meant to have that birth certificate all ready for you to go. And then there she was.” 

“Here she is,” she corrects him as her fingers join his on the page. “Hi, Mom.”  

*********************

He is not signing books when she makes it back to the loft. He has an army of Sharpies arrayed before him, varying in color, in tip size and style, in click-y versus non-click-y status. He has the spray paint pen and the the glitter gel pen. He may actually have all the pens in the loft arrayed before him, but he is not signing books. 

“How many did you get done?” She lets her arms fall over his shoulders. Her palms rest flat on the desk, trapping him in the swivel chair. She reaches for the nearest book to check. She’s quick, but he’s quicker—this time, at least—and he very nearly catches her finger as he slams the cover. “None? Really?” 

“Not none,” he insists, but the guilty look on his face strongly suggests that the number is a few doors down from none. “All of these are garbage.” He gestures defensively to his pen army. “They smell bad and they squeak and they make my hand hurt and have I mentioned the paper cuts?” 

“Paper cuts. Death.” She laughs against the crook of his neck. “The issue has been raised.” 

“i’ll do them tomorrow,” he says with an air of finality. He pushes off with his feet, and in a move that certainly should not work, he breaks her hold, spins the chair, and scoops her into his lap. “Plenty of time tomorrow,” he mutters, working on her blouse buttons in such a determined way that he nearly has her on board. 

“Tomorrow,” she murmurs, and the word has walked right up to the door of his diabolical plan to distract her. It’s walked right up, but it hasn’t quite slipped in yet. She manages to grab his wrists. “No! Tomorrow we have City Hall. We have the license tomorrow.” 

“License,” he scoffs as he shakes off her hold. “That’ll take, like, half an hour.” 

“What if I could . . . inspire you to get these signed?” She’s pouring it on thick, giving him her most seductive tone.  

“Inspiration. Yeah, that was . . . “ He pauses dramatically as he pops the button that reveals a glimpse of her bra. “. . . the plan.” 

“Good!” She’s on her feet and racing for the bedroom closet. She retrieves the small, wedge-shaped box that’s fancier than her fanciest evening bag. She’s back in the office, holding it out to him before he’s had time to so much as sputter a protest. “Voila. Inspiration. Open it.” 

She’s unsure for half a second. It’s her wedding present to him—the man who has everything—and for half a second it feels like cheating to give it to him now instead of after they’ve crossed all their Ts with playful swoops and dotted their is with precision. But she sees her mother’s signature in her mind’s eye. She sees her father’s next to it, and it doesn’t feel like cheating. 

He hesitates, not knowing what this gesture means, but sensing its import to her. He takes the box in one hand and tugs her close with the other. The fancy box doesn’t so much open as it unfurls, revealing its treasure nestled in actual snow white satin. 

“Is this—”  he gasps as his fingers scramble to take it up. “A Pineider Mystery Filler!” 

She should probably be offended that her half-open blouse is all but forgotten as he rifles through his secret stash of ink bottles to find one worthy of the inaugural fill of the fancy, clear-barreled fountain pen with its watch-work mechanism. She should scold him for the dramatic sweep of his arms that sends the rest of the unworthy pen army to ground. 

Instead, she perches on his knee. She listens to him rattle off the pen’s vital statistics, including the A-listers who use it and those in the mystery writer brotherhood who’d kill to have one. She oohs and ahs along with him as the magnet in the cap causes it to snap satisfyingly to. 

She helps, finally. With one of his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, he needs her to, so she sets each book in exactly the right place and braces it for him while he swoops through R and scrawls his way toward the emphatic arc of the C. She helps him work his way through five, ten, fifty books, and the sight of his signature loses none of its charm. 

But she plucks the pen out of his hand when they make it fo fifty books. She caps it with a satisfying magnet snick. She reminds him of her half-open blouse. And after they’re both spent, after he’s fallen asleep, she lies awake, fingers pressed to the butterflies in her stomach, and she pictures his signature, right next to hers.  A/N: Signatures. This was rough to get into. And it got hella long. Hmm. 

images via homeofthenutty