#also the big colorful letters to her name is also a nod to her logo in Mario golf 64 ! 😉

[hedgypipes]

Princess Plum!

This is a character that appeared in Mario Golf 64 but I designed and interpreted what She would like as a princess. She’s also a part of an au where she and peach live together and are cousins as well. Her Dress was also inspired and based on the clothes of her original design, the her heels having the color “Blue Violet” to present a plum color that’s an homage to her name, also also her crown and oval shaped pink brooch that’s a reference to Princess Peach!

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other. 

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth. 

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

**

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

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The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

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ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 5 paragraph x

Of my classes, English was the only one I looked forward to, yet I was disturbed by how many of my classmates disliked Thoreau, railed against him even, as if he (who claimed never to have learned anything of value from an old person) was an enemy and not a friend. His scorn of commerce—invigorating to me —nettled a lot of the more vocal kids in Honors English. “Yeah, right,” shouted an obnoxious boy whose hair was gelled and combed stiff like a Dragon Ball Z character—“some kind of world it would be if everybody just dropped out and moped around in the woods—” “Me, me, me,” whined a voice in the back. “It’s antisocial,” a loudmouth girl interjected eagerly over the laughter that followed this—shifting in her seat, turning back to the teacher (a limp, long-boned woman named Mrs. Spear, who always wore brown sandals and earthtone colors, and looked as if she was suffering from major depression). “Thoreau is always just sitting around on his can telling us how good he has it —” “—Because,” said the Dragon Ball Z boy—his voice rising gleefully, “if everybody dropped out, like he’s saying to do? What kind of community would we have, if it was just people like him? We wouldn’t have hospitals and stuff. We wouldn’t have roads.” “Twat,” mumbled a welcome voice—just loud enough for everybody around to hear. I turned to see who had said this: the burnout-looking boy across the aisle, slouched and drumming his desk with his fingers. When he saw me looking at him, he raised a surprisingly lively eyebrow, as if to say: can you believe these fucking idiots? “Did someone have something to say back there?” said Mrs. Spear. “Like Thoreau gave a toss about roads,” said the burnout boy. His accent took me by surprise: foreign, I couldn’t place it. “Thoreau was the first environmentalist,” said Mrs. Spear. “He was also the first vegetarian,” said a girl in back. “Figures,” said someone else. “Mr. Crunchy-chewy.” “You’re all totally missing my point,” the Dragon Ball Z boy said excitedly. “Somebody has to build roads and not just sit in the woods looking at ants and mosquitoes all day. It’s called civilization.” My neighbor let out a sharp, contemptuous bark of a laugh. He was pale and thin, not very clean, with lank dark hair falling in his eyes and the unwholesome wanness of a runaway, callused hands and black-circled nails chewed to the nub—not like the shiny-haired, ski-tanned skate rats from my school on the Upper West Side, punks whose dads were CEOs and Park Avenue surgeons, but a kid who might conceivably be sitting on a sidewalk somewhere with a stray dog on a rope. “Well, to address some of these questions? I’d like for everybody to turn back to page fifteen,” Mrs. Spear said. “Where Thoreau is talking about his experiment in living.” “Experiment how?” said Dragon Ball Z. “Why is living in the woods like he does any different from a caveman?” The dark-haired boy scowled and sank deeper in his seat. He reminded me of the homeless-looking kids who stood around passing cigarettes back and forth on St. Mark’s Place, comparing scars, begging for change—same torn-up clothes and scrawny white arms; same black leather bracelets tangled at the wrists. Their multi-layered complexity was a sign I couldn’t read, though the general import was clear enough: different tribe, forget about it, I’m way too cool for you, don’t even try to talk to me. Such was my mistaken first impression of the only friend I made when I was in Vegas, and—as it turned out—one of the great friends of my life. His name was Boris. Somehow we found ourselves standing together in the crowd that was waiting for the bus after school that day.

“Hah. Harry Potter,” he said, as he looked me over. “Fuck you,” I said listlessly. It was not the first time, in Vegas, I’d heard the Harry Potter comment. My New York clothes—khakis, white oxford shirts, the tortoiseshell glasses which I unfortunately needed to see—made me look like a freak at a school where most people dressed in tank tops and flip flops. “Where’s your broomstick?” “Left it at Hogwarts,” I said. “What about you? Where's your board?” “Eh?” he said, leaning in to me and cupping his hand behind his ear with an old-mannish, deaf-looking gesture. He was half a head taller than me; along with jungle boots and bizarre old fatigues with the knees busted out, he was wearing a ratted-up black T-shirt with a snowboarding logo, Never Summer in white gothic letters. “Your shirt,” I said, with a curt nod. “Not much boarding in the desert.” “Nyah,” said Boris, pushing the stringy dark hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know how to snowboard. I just hate the sun.” We ended up together on the bus, in the seat closest to the door—clearly an unpopular place to sit, judging from the urgent way other kids muscled and pushed to the rear, but I hadn’t grown up riding a school bus and apparently neither had he, as he too seemed to think it only natural to fling himself down in the first empty seat up front. For a while we didn’t say much, but it was a long ride and eventually we got talking. It turned out that he lived in Canyon Shadows too—but farther out, the end that was getting reclaimed by the desert, where a lot of the houses weren’t finished and sand stood in the streets. “How long have you been here?” I asked him. It was the question all the kids asked each other at my new school, like we were doing jail time. “Dunno. Two months maybe?” Though he spoke English fluently enough, with a strong Australian accent, there was also a dark, slurry undercurrent of something else: a whiff of Count Dracula, or maybe it was KGB agent. “Where are you from?” “New York,” I said—and was gratified at his silent double-take, his lowered eyebrows that said: very cool. “What about you?” He pulled a face. “Well, let’s see,” he said, slumping back in his seat and counting off the countries on his fingers. “I’ve lived in Russia, Scotland which was maybe cool but I don’t remember it, Australia, Poland, New Zealand, Texas for two months, Alaska, New Guinea, Canada, Saudi Arabia, Sweden, Ukraine—” “Jesus Christ.” He shrugged. “Mostly Australia, Russia, and Ukraine, though. Those three places.” “Do you speak Russian?” He made a gesture that I took to mean more or less. “Ukrainian too, and Polish. Though I’ve forgotten a lot. The other day, I tried to remember what was the word for ‘dragonfly’ and couldn’t.” “Say something.” He obliged, something spitty and guttural. “What does that mean?” He chortled. “It means ‘Fuck you up the ass.’ ” “Yeah? In Russian?” He laughed, exposing grayish and very un-American teeth. “Ukrainian.” “I thought they spoke Russian in the Ukraine.” “Well, yes. Depends what part of Ukraine. They’re not so different languages, the two. Well—” click of the tongue, eye roll—“not so very much. Numbers are different, days of the week, some vocabulary. My name is spelled different in Ukrainian but in North America it’s easier to use Russian spelling and be Boris, not B-o-r-y-s. In the West everybody knows Boris Yeltsin…” he ticked his head to one side—“Boris Becker—” “Boris Badenov—” “Eh?” he said sharply, turning as if I’d insulted him. “Bullwinkle? Boris and Natasha?” “Oh, yes. Prince Boris! War and Peace. I’m named like him. Although the surname of Prince Boris is Drubetskóy, not what you said.”

“So what’s your first language? Ukrainian?” He shrugged. “Polish maybe,” he said, falling back in his seat, slinging his dark hair to one side with a flip of his head. His eyes were hard and humorous, very black. “My mother was Polish, from Rzeszów near the Ukrainian border. Russian, Ukrainian—Ukraine as you know was satellite of USSR, so I speak both. Maybe not Russian quite so much—it’s best for swearing and cursing. With Slavic languages—Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, even Czech—if you know one, you sort of get drift in all. But for me, English is easiest now. Used to be the other way around.” “What do you think about America?” “Everyone always smiles so big! Well—most people. Maybe not so much you. I think it looks stupid.” He was, like me, an only child. His father (born in Siberia, a Ukrainian national from Novoagansk) was in mining and exploration. “Big important job—he travels the world.” Boris’s mother—his father’s second wife—was dead. “Mine too,” I said. He shrugged. “She’s been dead for donkey’s years,” he said. “She was an alkie. She was drunk one night and she fell out a window and died.” “Wow,” I said, a bit stunned by how lightly he’d tossed this off. “Yah, it sucks,” he said carelessly, looking out the window. “So what nationality are you?” I said, after a brief silence. “Eh—?” “Well, if your mother’s Polish, and your dad’s Ukrainian, and you were born in Australia, that would make you—” “Indonesian,” he said, with a sinister smile. He had dark, devilish, very expressive eyebrows that moved around a lot when he spoke. “How’s that?” “Well, my passport says Ukraine. And I have part citizenship in Poland too. But Indonesia is the place I want to get back to,” said Boris, tossing the hair out of his eyes. “Well—PNG.” “What?” “Papua, New Guinea. It’s my favorite place I’ve lived.” “New Guinea? I thought they had headhunters. “Not any more. Or not so many. This bracelet is from there,” he said, pointing to one of the many black leather strands on his wrist. “My friend Bami made it for me. He was our cook.” “What’s it like?” “Not so bad,” he said, glancing at me sideways in his brooding, self-amused way. “I had a parrot. And a pet goose. And, was learning to surf. But then, six months ago, my dad hauled me with him to this shaddy town in Alaska. Seward Peninsula, just below Arctic Circle? And then, middle of May —we flew to Fairbanks on a prop plane, and then we came here.” “Wow,” I said. “Dead boring up there,” said Boris. “Heaps of dead fish, and bad Internet connection. I should have run away—I wish I had,” he said bitterly. “And done what?” “Stayed in New Guinea. Lived on the beach. Thank God anyway we weren’t there all winter. Few years ago, we were up north in Canada, in Alberta, this one-street town off the Pouce Coupe River? Dark the whole time, October to March, and fuck-all to do except read and listen to CBC radio. Had to drive fifty klicks to do our washing. Still—” he laughed —“loads better than Ukraine. Miami Beach, compared.” “What does your dad do again?” “Drink, mainly,” said Boris sourly. “He should meet my dad, then.” Again the sudden, explosive laugh—almost like he was spitting over you. “Yes. Brilliant. And whores?” “Wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, after a small, startled pause. Though not too much my dad did shocked me, I had never quite envisioned him hanging out in the Live Girls and Gentlemen’s Club joints we sometimes passed on the highway. The bus was emptying out; we were only a few streets from my house. “Hey, this is my stop up here,” I said. “Want to come home with me and watch television?” said Boris. “Well—” “Oh, come on. No one’s there. And I’ve got S.O.S. Iceberg on DVD.”

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: WWC

“Jess?” 

“Yes, Ms. Luthor?” 

Squinting behind her glasses, the CEO peered at her schedule on her computer screen and furrowed as she read, but failed to comprehend the words under the seven o’clock time slot that seemed to take up majority of her evening. There should have been nothing there. She carefully kept track of every second, trusted her secretary to do the same, and suddenly, she had to be somewhere on a night when she could have been home. 

Leaning back in her chair, Lena Luthor scrolled and clicked on the offending task highlighted in a deep forest green. National City FC. 

National City Fire Council?

National City Financial Committee?

National City Freedom Conference?

“What the hell is National City FC, and why is it taking up 3 hours of my evening?” 

“The team you had us buy a few months ago. It’s their home opener.” the secretary explained, filing a few things in the drawer in the closet in Lena’s office. 

She didn’t bat an eye at such questions. It was her job to know those things, to take care of things, like when her boss came in with a circled article from her ride into the office, and told Jess to fix it. This somehow included a struggling council measure to bring another sports team to the city and help the underfunded women’s program develop. 

There were no follow up questions to how it got done, as Lena was immediately onto the next thing, but for Jess, there were hours spent meeting with officials and the in-house entertainment division to see how accumulating a women’s soccer team would diversify their holdings. This meant weeks pouring over spreadsheets and crunching numbers until the small team that was created for just this singular task, that again, came from a circled three inches of newspaper print, developed a plan to make it a success. 

“What did I do?” Lena asked, looking up from her computer as her assistant continued her work of pulling and rearranging to prepare for end of month reports. 

“You gave me an article about how the city wanted a team but couldn’t drum up the money to commit, and they were going to lose the bid for an expansion team.” 

“That sounds somewhat familiar.”

“You said that expansion and bringing professionals into the city was how we continued to grow.” 

“I’m sure I did.” 

Quickly, Lena googled the team and found a few headlines praising the companies initiative to help grown equality within the sport, to bring jobs and joy to the community, to expand programs for children and sports, to bring a championship to the city. It was all news to her but still made her smile. 

“I put together a team who did everything from polling to scouting locations to permits and projections,” Jess explained as Lena scrolled. “You helped pick out the colors and design the logo.” 

“I did?” 

“No,” she chuckled. “I did all of that. It’s been my pet project. I played in college, you know.” 

The webpage was green, deep and royal. A white logo with the crest of the city and an outline of a roaring bear over it sat in the corner. The banner had the team picture with rows of tough and smiling girls looking back. A schedule followed and links to tickets. It was an actual thing. 

“You did all of this?” 

“I delegated,” Jess explained, handing over a folder. “Take a look at this so you have your talking points.”

“This got past the board?” 

“A bit of community outreach, your name on the field, the logo on the jerseys, community services, tax breaks, and city-wide gratitude. It went a long way, and was a sound investment, set to see returns as early as six years.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want that promotion?” 

“I’ll just take another raise,” the secretary smiled as her boss looked over the papers in the folder. 

“This still doesn’t explain why it’s on my schedule though,” Lena decided, closing it and laying it back on her desk. 

“It’s the inaugural game. You have to go show your support.” 

“I don’t like sports,” she reminded her. “That’s why I created an entire division of this company to manage such things.” 

“You wanted more photo ops, and I’m creating that moment for you.” 

Jess was right, which was something Lena still wasn’t particularly fond of admitting. Ever since her brother’s implosion and her ascendence to help the company two years ago, it felt as if her full-time job wasn’t being a CEO but rather a figure head looking to make people believe that she was just as strong, just as capable, just as, if not moreso, credible as the leader of a multi-billion dollar organization. 

Lena looked back at the file on her desk and sighed, invariably giving in. 

“Fine, but I’m not going to wear a jer--”

Smiling, Jess held up her personal jersey with DANVERS printed in big white letters over the number eleven. She wiggled her eyebrows and tried to hide her amusement. 

“It’s to support the team.” 

“That’s not even my name.” 

“You don’t play for them, just own the team. You don’t get your own name on it.” 

“I couldn’t get a custom one? I don’t even know who that is.” 

“This is your star player, Kara Danvers. Got her in the expansion draft. She’s amazing. Led the league in scoring the past three years, only been in it for four.” 

“This is soccer, right?” 

With a heavy sigh, Jess tossed the jersey across the desk. 

“Keep reading. I’ll have the car here at six.” 

Lena smiled to herself as she held up the jersey, happy to have her name on it anyway with the logo of the rebranded L Corp. She never got used to seeing that, her accomplishments come to fruition. Somehow she accidentally bought a sports team, and though she wasn’t thrilled about having to spend her evening not at home on the couch, she was excited to see what her assistant created, excited to have done something for the city she grew to call home. 

Not the biggest sports fan on the planet, Lena looked back at the screen with the team on it and found number eleven and gulped slightly, deciding that sports couldn’t be that bad. 

XXXXXXXXX

The music blasted in the headphones, so loudly that nothing else could be heard, not even a thundering heartbeat or heavy breathing. The world and its honks and horns and yelling and voices and city chatter completely disappeared to nothing outside of the stadium, outside of the pitch of fresh grass. 

Before the first fan would be welcomed, before they thrust open the grates on the concession stands, before the lights were tested and left on, a single player began her routine, sitting in the stands alone and taking in the world around her, as soon it would be chaos-- screaming people on the sidelines, lines calling changes and plays in the heat of the moment, chirping from those coming to disrupt her home. The soccer player’s head nodded to the beat of the song as she prepared, washing the rest of it away and focusing, centering herself. 

The stadium was beginning to breathe again, with works appearing, setting up for the sell-out crowd. By the time the first few teammates began to filter out to warm up, Kara was warming up, making her way from side to side with a light jog, stretching muscles and coming back from her solitary centering. 

“Are you getting nervous yet?” Nia asked as she sat on the ground, working hamstrings into something more tenable. 

“I’m getting excited,” Kara corrected. 

She was a leader on the team, and she took the responsibility very seriously. That included measuring her responses for the younger teammates, making sure that she was always on. It also meant that she played her heart out and left every ounce of energy on the field. She was going to lead the league again. She was going to keep her national team spot. She was going to accomplish great things, just as her parents always told her. 

“I’m getting nervous,” her teammate confessed. “Sarah Lance is a terrifying defender. And Foster is a sniper.” 

“But you’re Nia Nal,” Kara smiled, helping to pull her goaltender up. She didn’t let her escape though. She held her shoulders in her hands and gave her an intense look. “You are a brick wall. You are unstoppable. You are a fortress. That’s your goal, and no one is going to score today.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t think you do,” the captain disagreed, grinning a little wider now. “Hey, Allen, tell Nal what she is.” 

From over her shoulder another teammate immediately chimed in. 

“Nia Nal is a force to be reckoned with! She’s not allowing one point this entire year.” 

“See that?” Kara grinned, turning back to her goalie. “Everyone already knows it.” 

“I know,” Nia nodded, a little less worried and a little more serious. 

“Good. Let’s run some drills. I’m no Foster, but I’ll try to make it hard for you.” 

Leadership was a role Kara felt both thrust upon her and eager taken up, as if it were second nature. She didn’t think about it, not directly, but often her time was spent planning her moves within the team to make them successful. It showed on the field. 

On the pitch though, Kara was completely untouchable. She was focused on her goals and she was ready for anything. She was the captain, the heart, the everything for her team, and she gave her all because for so long it was all she had. 

“Danvers, lets go,” the coach’s voice called as the player finished getting ready, completing the final tasks of her routine. “I need you for some press stuff.” 

“I thought that was after,” Kara furrowed as she trotted over to Cat Grant as the rest of the team finished up in the locker room. 

“Opening day means a lot of parading around,” she explained as they walked through the corridor. “You know this team is precarious at best. We have to do everything we can to appease the money bags.”

“I was going to do some appeasing on the scoreboard. Try to put on a show.” 

“If you could do both, I’d appreciate it.” 

“You know I can.” 

With a comparable grin, Cat nodded and tugged open a door that led to a lobby area, where post game interviews would be held, where the team would meet before the huddle, only this time it was nearly empty save for two women. 

“Ms. Luthor,” Cat held out her hand as she approached the striking woman that Kara was stuck staring at. “It’s an honor to have you out here to see our first game.” 

“I’ve heard you’ve done amazing things. I’m excited to watch,” she smiled back, clasping Grant’s hand with both of hers. 

Dimples were there, right on her cheeks. There was also red lipstick. Cherry red and full on the lips. And her eyes. The green of the jersey was absolutely perfect for making her eyes seem like never-ending forests. Kara cleared her throat when she remembered to swallow and looked away from her face quickly, afraid of gawking too long, though her own cheeks grew a bit warm with the observations. The problem was that looking anywhere else was just as bad. Skin-tight black jeans betrayed hips, and the jersey was enough to not hide her chest, and Kara wanted to pluck out her own eyeballs. 

While she introduced her assistant, Kara looked helplessly at the door and shifted on her feet, hoping to avoid the weird feeling in her chest and head. 

“This is one of our stars, Kara Danvers. She’ll be doing some press with you after the game, so I thought it’d be better to look as if you’ve met before.”

“Good thinking,” Lena smiled and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kara nodded, curt and polite enough, the handshake not lasting very long. 

“I will confess I don’t know much about soccer, but I’ve done my research on you,” the money explained. “Jess was telling me how brilliant you are, and I’m excited for you to share your talent with the city.” 

“Me? Yes, um. I am as well. Excited. I love this city. My second home it is.”

With a funny look on her face, Lena just nodded and turned back to the coach, her glance following a beat later as Kara looked away, her cheeks full firetrucks. 

“I wont interrupt anymore of your prep time,” Lena explained. “Thank you Cat.” 

“Enjoy the view from the owner’s box.” 

“I get one of those?” Lena asked, her voice going a little low as she asked her assistant. 

Kara lingered for a moment as her coach made her way back toward the lock eroom to prepare. She met Lena’s lok and offered another shy smile before hurring to turn around. 

“See you later,” she offered and cringed as she turned around. 

The entire walk back to the locker room, Kara hung her head, oddly confused about the very short but very weird meeting. She didn’t know what to do or what she had done, just that she had a game to win and now knew that Lena Luthor existed. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Good evening National City!” the CEO cheered from the edge of the pitch, a giant television of herself played just behind her for everyone to see in the sold out crowd. 

The sun was beginning to set behind the city, the stadium sitting on the edge of the water with a view of the skyline and the lake behind it. It was all so new and clean and nice, that Lena took a little bit of pride in the fact hat she had some hand to play in it all even if she wan’t acutely aware of it. 

“I am so happy to introduce you to your National City FC!” 

The crowd roared again as she smiled into the microphone and surveyed the edge of the field with the waiting players and their tiny equivalents. 

“It has been an honor to be part of bringing the next great franchise to our wonderful city, and I know these women are going to make you all so proud!” 

The cheering was awfully addicting, and Lena was going to try to figure out how to get twenty thousand people to follow her around and agree with everything she said. 

“What do you say we get this inaugural season underway?” 

Lena smiled and waved, handing over the microphone to the emcee. The deep voice began to introduce the team as the owner walked off of the field toward her assistant who smiled, much too knowledgeable about the fact that her boss was actually having fun despite her inability to admit it. 

“You looked good out there,” Jess nodded as Lena stood beside her, shielding her eyes from the squint of the sun as she looked at her team. 

“Sports aren’t that bad,” Lena shrugged. 

Despite herself, the CEO found Kara Danvers in the lineup, a little girl standing before her as they did the anthem and introductions. Even though everyone was quiet and preparing for the game, the little girl was antsy. Kara held her hands and lifted her up slightly, swinging her a bit, her shoulders and biceps straining. Lena swallowed as she watched Kara giggle with the little girl, and wondered how someone could exist that was insanely hot and also a big old goober. It didn’t seem fair. 

“Let’s get to the box,” Jess offered, interrupting the absolute dehydration Lena was experiencing and hoping to hide. “We can go over some of the basics and I can finish explaining the strategy.” 

“I trust your judgement, but I should learn a few things for press. This is going to take a lot more of my face than previous expected, I guess?” 

“I was hoping a few showings of your face, and if we win, we’ll solidify the team. National City is lacking a prestigious championship caliber team.”

On the field, Kara hopped slightly before stretching out her legs and getting out the jitters. Hair pulled back tightly, her armband meant she was the captain, and she commanded her team with precision. 

“Is this our first championship team?” 

“I think so.” 

“This is a much more enjoyable investment than all those property deals and some of those research labs I have to hear about.” 

“Says the engineer?” 

“It pains me to admit it.” 

The whistle blew and Kara sprinted out, capturing the ball and immediately making her way toward the other goal. Lena’s heart jumped into her throat at the sheer force and speed of it all before she allowed Jess to tug her back to her box. 

“How much do you know about Kara Danvers?” Lena asked, hoping it as subtle enough to be taken as small talk. 

“It’s all in the folders.” 

The CEO nodded as the elevator ascended, and she didn’t dare to chance a look at her secretary. 

XXXXXXXXXX

No matter how many times she played, the adrenaline from a game was still mildly addicting. No matter how many goals she scored, the elation of scoring another was a fix that Kara Danvers chased perpetually. Nothing compared to it. 

After the final whistle blew though, after the game ended and there was nothing left to give, she found herself full of these things, and no matter how tired her muscles and body became, the high was slow to come down from. It did make everything happen quicker though, and somehow, not long after winning, and a hat trick under her belt, Kara found herself seated in the media room with the team logo behind her and her new owner beside her. 

“You must be fairly happy with the game tonight,” one reporter began, “any worries about the team as a whole that you will be working on this week at practice?” 

“We’re always looking to be better, and I can’t say we were flawless, but I’m so excited for where we’re at as a team, that I’m just going to bask for the evening before we get back to work in the morning.” 

The group chuckled slightly as the PR director called on the next hand. 

“Ms. Luthor, how important was it for this team to get a win tonight? Was it validation for your involvement? Vindication maybe for all the naysayers who were against the expansion?” 

“I can honestly say I haven’t paid any attention to anyone who was against this project,” Lena smiled as she earned a laugh from the audience. “It’s important to win as many games as possible for any team, let alone this team. We have a lot to prove as the new kids on the block, but I think Ms. Danvers is right, and we should celebrate and come back ready to continue in the morning.” 

For the life of her, Kara wasn’t sure why the mention of her name or the corresponding look from Lena made the tips of her ears burn, but she smiled awkwardly and tried to ignore it. 

“Ms. Luthor, what made you invest in this team and this  opportunity?” 

“The excitement in my advisor’s face when she talked about the team,” the CEO explained, nodding to the woman Kara didn’t remember officially meeting. “I can’t take credit for doing much more except being completely taken with Kara.” 

The player snapped to look at the CEO for the pause that seemed to last much too long. 

“Wait,” Lena shook her head and laughed. “Kara and her team. The sport really. The little girls that come out with the team. My advisor was one of those little girls, and she is now one of the most admirable and driven people I have ever met. If a team like this can give her joy and hope, imagine what it can do for all of the other little girls.” 

“How does it feel to have the most powerful woman in the world behind you, Kara?” 

“I’m quite taken by it,” she offered humbly with a smile, earning a laugh from the group and Lena in particular. “To be honest though, it is a truly empowering fact. To have someone with such kindness and tenacity as an example, it’s amazing.”

The pair shared a smile, and Kara looked back at the crowd, preparing for the next question.

next

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 15)

Warning for blood and death in this chapter.

She had been there when her mother died. She had been there when their sunny day turned so abruptly sour. When the clouds unleashed a big one without warning. It was just like the most recent storm, the news anchors had failed to adequately report the incoming storm and so they, alongside, several other families had gotten caught in it.

The day had been so kind and promising. Ursa packed their lunch, three grilled hot dogs that Ozai had left for them before heading off to help out at the marina, a bag of hotdog buns, a bowl of watermelon, and several water bottles. Zuko, newly sixteen, insisted that they bring some of the leftover cake too.

Ursa had caved and they were on their way out for a day of shell hunting and tubing. Azula couldn’t have been more pumped, she knew that she would come out bruised and sore, she always did in her successful efforts to outlast Zuko. In doing so, she had taken some rather hard falls. She very vividly remembers a summer ago when they’re competition got particularly heated. Both she and Zuko were clinging on for the sake of their pride. Typically they could last a good ten minutes of Ursa speeding over the waves before a good bump would dislodge one of them. They were on minute twelve. Her hands were cramped and achy from clenching the tube’s nylon handles for so long. But Zuzu had still been clinging and she would too. He let go first. She found out why soon enough. He informed her later that she had been tossed several feet into the air and did several backflips both before and after hitting the water. It had knocked the wind out of her and her entire body ached for days. But she had won.  

The sky was so blue. The clouds were fluffy and white and the seagulls circled and squabbled over dropped french fries. Nobody seemed to have noticed when they suddenly disappeared. Maybe if they had, they would have known something in the air was amiss.

But everyone remained, a group of college kids at a volleyball net, a family building sandcastles, a different family departing with fishing poles at the ready, and a couple and their dog throwing a frisbee.

Ursa arranged their lunch and as they ate, she inquired about how Azula was enjoying her first year of high school so far. She had said that she was only a month in and needed more time to decide, but that she loved her new surf team so far. It was much more serious and competition driven. And then Zuko got to talk about how well his cooking was improving.

She remembers the smell of sea and barbeque in the air as she helped Ursa load the rest of their shells into the back of the car. She remembers the smell of the sunscreen that Ursa sprayed on her when she refused to do it herself. She remembers how her mother too smelled of sunscreen but also faintly of strawberry perfume.

Strawberry sunscreen, still lingers in her mind. Strawberry sunscreen is what she remembers most about her mother.

She tries to focus on strawberry sunscreen instead of strawberry colored blood mixing with seafoam.

They had just secured the innertube, a bright orange and blue thing with a company logo and name plastered in bright red on the front. The air seemed electrified, and in retrospect, maybe Azula should have said something. But she hadn’t and they were well into the ocean a crackle of lightning upset the waves.

It happened so unprocessablely fast. One minute there was sun and in an instant there was an impenetrable curtain of rain. How quickly fluffy and white had turned to wispy and concrete.

They abandoned their tube and hurried into the boat. Her heart had never raced faster and she thanked every higher power there was that she had Zuko had been so furiously competitive. They probably wouldn’t have had the ability to cling on for so long otherwise. Even still she was shaking by the time Ursa managed to reel them in.

There was no time for relief, she helped her mother navigate while Zuko helped hold her steady. Azula could see the shore. She could also see a boat turn over, spilling several fishing poles. She hadn’t known it then, but she would later find out that a girl in her class named Yue and her family had perished.

She zeroed in on the shore and guided her mother around rocks and debris. They were going to make it, they were going to…

She hadn’t spotted the reef on time. She underestimated the tides.

The tides pulled them right into the reef and shredded the bottom of their boat. They were going down and fast. Lifejackets were no match for such ruthless tides. She saw Zuko go overboard first. The same wave took her mother. She had room in her arms for one of them.

She emerged from the water with her legs and arms shredded. Blades of coral proved to be just as merciless as the tides. The sensation was searing and blood trickled down her arms and legs. She felt so dizzy and weak. She couldn’t tell how much of the blood was hers and how much was Zuzu’s.

She dragged him to the shore and scanned the water for her mother. The woman was fighting the waves, and for a moment, Azula thought that she would make it. Maybe she would have if their boat hadn’t…

Azula’s memory goes blank there, she just remembers seeing blood on the seafoam. Blood like strawberries and foam like sunscreen.

She never did tell Zuzu that she had to choose between he and their mother. She never told father.

.oOo.

He writes the letter out, it is sloppy with haste, but he thinks that it is to the point. It will probably speak for him better than he can. He bunches it up in his hand and shoves it into his pocket, alongside his first AA chip.

He tries the beach first. He finds Zuko and Katara, he hears them calling out for Azula but the girl is nowhere in sight. Nor does he spot Jet. It occurs to him that they are looking in the wrong place. Of course she won’t be on the beach, not as furious and upset as she is. His second guess is the cliffside, but he would have seen her already. Those are her two usual spots. There is one other.

Ozai considers taking the car, it would be alot faster but he thinks that walking is the way to go. He isn’t one to place his bets on gut instincts, that is what Iroh does. This time he does though, he walks for several miles. Walks until his already spent and exhausted body threatens to give. What a horrid way to spend his birthday. It is his own fault, he reminds himself.

He takes a deep breath and resumes his walk until he comes upon a rickety old park. It had been a dilapidated wooden accident waiting to happen when Azula was just a child, now it is completely crumbled. The only thing left standing is a rusty old merry-go-round, the only metal structure at the park. The shoreline that it is built on is a cluttered mess of driftwood, broken shells, and pollution; glass bottles, both broken and intact, deflated beach balls, discarded plastic shovels, forgotten goggles now fogged with algae, and empty beer cans.

It smells potently of dead fish and runoff. Ozai isn’t sure why she still wanders over here, but he does find her. She is perched upon a structurally unsound picnic table. Jet stands next to her, likely aware that any more weight will collapse the rotting table. He has a hand on her back and is rubbing ever so tentatively while she rather openly vents.

Jet notices him first. “She doesn’t wanna talk to you, old man!” He brazenly declares.

Ozai opens his mouth to berate the boy for his brash disrespect. Instead he says, “no talking involved, just give this to her.”  He leaves no opening for the boy to decline. He isn’t sure if he should stand here and wait as she reads it or if he should begin making his way back to the lighthouse and hope for the best.

He stands with his arms folded while he waits for Jet to hand his daughter the note. He never drops his glare as he passes it off. Azula looks briefly at him before unfolding the note.

He tries to read her expression as her eyes follow the lines. She sets the note aside and presses her lips together. Her brows crease and her eyes narrow, she fixes them straight on the crashing waves in front of her.

Ozai waits. She is drawing the minute out.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t quiet sure how to take it. She can’t recall a time when her father has ever apologized to her--or anyone for that matter--vocally or otherwise. She fidgets with the note for a moment. It is very short and concise, a little lacking, but it is an apology no less. An apology and a thank you. She rubs her lips against one another and squeezes Jet’s hand harder. “Why?” She asks at last.

“Because,” he answers. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

“No.” She says. “If you appreciate what I tried to do for you then why? Why did you get angry with me? Why were you angry with me before.”

“Before?”

“You wouldn’t let me visit you. It’s because I tried to leave, isn’t it?”

The statement seems to take ten years off of his life. Suddenly he looks so tired. “I wouldn’t let you visit me because there are some things that you don’t need to see. You already saw your mother…” he trails off.

Her stomach knots all over again.

“I wasn’t angry with you.” He says again. “I’m not angry with you.”

“Then why did you…”

He rubs his hands over his face. “I just wasn’t expecting company, Azula. You don’t like to  be seen before you’ve had a chance to fix your hair and makeup.” He tries.

It is a fair point. Even still… “I thought that it would be a nice surprise. You know Katara and I thought that you would want to meet…” She trails off, unsure if this is a good time.

“Your boyfriend?” Ozai guesses. She opens her mouth but he answers before she can ask, “I can’t imagine that he would be so bold if you were just a friend.”

Jet gives a slight chuckle.

Azula crosses her arms.

“Come home with me. We will gather your brother and Katara and have that cake. It would be a shame if you wasted all of that time cooking for nothing, yes?”

.oOo.

Azula nods. That slight pout doesn’t leave her face. She has grown so much, in the last two years. But there are still moments, still small flashes when he can see that she is only a child. “You are getting the smallest piece though.”

He rolls his eyes but he will let her have this one, it is fair enough all things considered.

She continues. “Cake is for grateful fathers.”  This gets another chuckle out of Jet.

But he is grateful, and not just for the cake. He is thankful that she won’t walk the same path that he has. She is resilient--he can’t help but stare at the scars on her legs, she has too many of them for a girl so young. She is strong, maybe stronger than he is. And she is moving on, just as she had done with her mother.

“Your brother is going to be a bit harder to convince.”

Azula shakes her head, “he just doesn’t think that you’re trying. I think that he’ll come around when I tell him that you walked all of this way just to hand me a note.” She holds up her cellphone. “It was on the whole time.”

Ozai sighs, he always lets his temper drive out clear thinking. For once that is probably better. “Would that have been as effective?”

Azula thinks for a moment before shaking her head again. “You walked all that way just for me.” She flashes him a smug smile.

“That or he really wants some cake.” Jet comments with a shrug.

“He wants the cake because I made it.”

“We made it.”

“It was my idea!”

At least he can take comfort in that he hadn’t irreparably broken her mood. He can take comfort in that he hasn’t lost his girl.

[always5hineee]

Hell and Back - Chapter 2: Entry

Chapter warnings: Mild language

Word count: 1661

-----

       "So basically, I can have up to fifteen people." She explained. "And I figured you guys might want to help me out a bit?" Y/N was currently trying to explain the mysterious email she had received the night before, mentioning the opportunity for a wish and the potential group that she had in mind. The more people the better, right?

       "So you can wish for anything?" Sehun asked, leaning forward with an intrigued glint in his eyes.

       "I mean... yeah, it said that."

       "We could totally wish to be rich, then." Kris suggested.

       "Or famous!" Chanyeol added.

       "Guys." Suho held his hands out, quieting their overlapping suggestions. "We could get the band." The whole group went into what almost looked like a frenzy, Y/N watching it with a glossy stare. She hadn't mentioned yet that she'd already made her wish. She just needed their help.

       "This sounds awesome!" Tao cheered above the chatter, pumping a fist in a strange little dance. His and all the others' eyes were bright with excitement and hope, glittering with the promise of a better future. She didn't doubt that it was exactly the look that was on her face walking down the street the night before.

       How was she meant to crush their hopes on this? There wasn't really much she could do. Even if she could change her wish... would she want to? There were ways around it. She could say that it gave her a multiple choice, or that it just sensed her deepest desire. Better yet, maybe she could convince them that it was what they internally wanted, and the strange system just figured it out on their own.

       So now she was considering lying... Would it be worth it? For a power? She was conflicted beyond belief on it. It could change her life forever, make everything great, but... these were her best friends in the whole world. They were there for her even when she wasn't skilled, when she couldn't do what they could. They never made her feel worthless for it. How could she be expected to break the news to them now, though?

       As she considered her options, optimism already warping with worries, she heard a notification ring from her phone. She had all of her notifications turned off all the time- until last night. She had set her email notification to ring should something come in. Sure enough, the little envelope icon was glowing on the screen. Noticing it over her shoulder, Chen's face lit up.

       "Open it!" Hand shaking just slightly enough that she was the only one who noticed. Clicking into her phone after typing in her password. She moved to her inbox. Breath hitching, she recognized the clarity of the header. She felt a surge of heat as the large group of boys crowded around her, trying to see over each other to the tiny window.

       Pressing on the icon, the letter opened up, listing on in the same shimmery white script under the now slightly familiar elegant logo. The label at the top simply read Thank You. In the interest of her entire group of friends, she read it out loud.

       "You are allowed to enter up to fourteen teammates, providing for a fifteen-person team maximum. The signer of the initial email must be present for the start of the trials, but does not have to remain throughout the entire process. Please enter the names of those who wish to participate. After the details have been given, all will be given an opportunity to revoke their application. Looking around at them, she asked if they were all willing to participate.

       "This seems a little sketchy." Baekhyun said quietly. He hadn't really spoken up until this point, but he wasn't too excited at the prospect of some mysterious set of 'trials'. She had to admit that the word didn't sound the most pleasant.

       "Come on, we'll be able to pull out if we really want to." Lay nudged him. "Count me in! Seems like it could be fun!" Looking around, she saw the various nods and agreeing murmurs. Noting no objections, she wrote down all their full names. Clicking enter, it buffered, then switched screen.

       "Your wish has been ascertained."

       "You made a wish already?" Luhan asked, brows furrowing confusedly, wondering why she wouldn't have spoken up certain.

       "No, ascertained means to find something out. That insinuates that they picked it for us." Kyungsoo explained, Y/N breathing out in a quiet sigh of relief. She'd tell them eventually. Just... not now.  She continued reading to take their attention off of the tangent.

       "Your trials have now been activated." She read out. "An app request will be sent to your phone. To continue playing, accept the request and download the software. Follow the instructions from there. Thank you for your submission." Just as she hit the final 'enter' button, the email disappeared again, just as it had before.

       "Well..." Baekhyun noted. "That was... something."

       "Did you guys get the notification yet?" Lay asked, already pulling out his phone. After a few no's, Chen spoke up.

       "Wait, what is this?" Showing his phone to Kyungsoo, the man sighed. "That's an update notification from your settings app."

       "Oh... and that one?" Kyungsoo looked again.

       "Oh- now that's the notification." Lay ran over to look at it. Sure enough, he had received a generic notification that had the regular options of accept or deny. The simple black font asked, Allow dHJpYWxz to download and make changes to your device? Before Chen could even do anything, Lay groaned,

       "Aww, why did he get it first?" Reaching over his shoulder to tap 'accept'.

       "Hey!"

       "What? You were gonna do it anyway!" Sure enough, the notifications began popping up one everyone's phones. Once all the boys had accepted (some more excitedly than others), Y/N received a slightly different notification.

       All of your party has entered. Allow dHJpYWxz​​​​​​-party1​ to download and make changes to your device? Confused on the new wording, but unaware of a better option, she clicked accept as well, opening the app. Once her's was running, all the others began scrolling content across the screens. The app had the same sleek design as the email, featuring the black and silver color palette.

       The makeup of the app was very minimalistic. The homepage for the boys had four very distinct sections, each with a translucent color to separate it. The first was "Current Trial", second was "Completed Trials", the third was "Players", and the final was "Rules and Gameplay". Y/N's screen housed all of these, as well as another bar before rules titled "Abilities bar". Clicking through, everything seemed a bit bare, so she directed everyone a bit awkwardly.

       "Hey, we should probably read through the rules." They all agreed, clicking into the tab to skim the sheet as they took turns reading sections aloud.

       Welcome to the trials. You have all agreed to participate thus far. There are 100 rounds, each with a different goal that you will be given at the start of the round. There is no way to skip a round, and you will not be able to see rounds in advance. For every round, you will be given your goal. Some will include time limits or specific items you need to collect. In addition, for each round, one person will be prohibited from using their abilities. This will be non-negotiable, as you will find your powers rendered useless for the round.

       In all public trials, you are permitted to cause as much or as little of a scene as possible. You are not allowed to explain the trials to anyone, or you will be eliminated. You may not be caught by law enforcement, or you will be eliminated. You may not cheat, or you will be eliminated. Loopholes, however, are valid and could even be rewarded.

       At the start of every round, you will be given a chance to drop out. Each trial will have its own drop-out fee aside from Round 1. Your fee will be collected under any and all circumstances, so consider well before you choose to exit the trials. In the event of someone leaving the trials, they are not permitted to return, but the rest of the group remains unaffected. In the event that Player 1 leaves the trials, the remaining players will be given an additional trial to determine a new player 1.        

       To win, at least one person must complete all 100 trials successfully. In the event of a victor, a wish will be granted. Any questions may be asked through the Rules and Gameplay help bar. You will be answered in a timely manner. If you receive no response, your question may have been invalid, or there may be assistance on the way. At this time, if you wish to remove yourself from the trials, please go to the Current Trial page and follow the sequence. This will be accessible at all times.

       "This is... a lot to process." Kris said, rather obviously. Each of them was exploring the app curiously, most of the buttons inactive. Clicking into the Current Trial bar, she noted that the drop out button was indeed active. Underneath the big letters, "End Trials", there was a smaller script reading, Removal Fee: None. Next to the button, there was also a large "Begin" button. Looking at the others' screens, she noted that she was the only one who had it. She assumed that, as the so-called Player 1, she was in charge of deciding when the rounds began.

       "So... are we doing this thing?" Tao asked her, leaning forward to hover over her phone a bit.

       "If you all are ready." With sideways glances and nods from the group, she inhaled deeply, finger hovering over the screen. Finally, she worked up the courage and clicked it, lighting up the page.

       Trial 1: Start.

Go to Chapter 3

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 4

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @aworldoffandoms @dcbbw @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @sunandlemons @jlynn12273 @indiacater @jared2612 @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld @badchoicesposts @msjr0119

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley and Hana celebrate their new jobs and meet some new friends.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Hana’s voice rings throughout the apartment. I spring from my bed, dropping the book I was reading, and rush out of my room to find her standing in our living room, holding a thick white priority mail envelope.

“What’s going on?” I ask her.

Her eyes travel from the envelope to mine. “It’s a letter from Valtoria High School.” She flips the envelope over in her hand and slides her finger under the flap. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slides the letter from the envelope and begins reading. Suddenly, her eyes widen.

“Oh my god, it’s my acceptance letter!” she shouts. “I am officially the next music teacher at Valtoria High School!”

I leap across the room and scoop her up in a crushing hug. “Hana! That is so amazing! Congratulations!” We both start jumping up and down squealing as the envelope slips from her hands and falls to the ground with a light thud. She stops jumping and looks down to where the envelope landed, giggling as she picks it up.

“What else is in there?” I ask.

She pulls out the remaining contents of the envelope and spreads them out on the coffee table. I glance over her shoulder to see a brochure, two pamphlets, some documents, a map of the school’s campus, a bumper sticker, a pencil, and a notebook with the school’s logo on the cover. I walk over to the couch and take a seat, picking up the brochure. I open it up to a random page and scan the content until something catches my eye.

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask, re-reading the list of donors for the school. Hana leans over and shrugs. “Oh yeah. His company is a major donor. I think they sponsor a bunch of the school’s extracurricular events. Gotta love those tax write-offs.”

My eyes glance back at the page, and it’s like the words are slapping me in the face.

GOLD LEVEL SPONSOR: Cordonia Enterprises

Fucking hells. Of course, he gives a shitload of money to the local schools. He’s one of the richest men in the city and he obviously gives a shit about someone other than himself. The woman who ends up with him is a lucky bitch. Fingers crossed it will be me.

“I wonder if he’s willing to donate to the “Riley Brooks is a Broke-Ass Bitch and needs money to pay off her student loans Foundation,’” I say.

Hana giggles. “He is. It’s called your paycheck.”

I narrow my eyes at her and chuck a throw pillow in her direction, narrowly missing. She ducks out of the way and sticks her tongue out at me in triumph. “Okay, enough fantasizing about your new boss’s bank account. I’m officially employed, so this calls for a celebration,” she declares.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” I grin suggestively.

“Put on your best drinking dress. We’re going to the Double Tappe.”

***

We arrive 45 minutes later to see a line outside, which is weird because this place is rarely busy. It’s one of the reasons why we like coming here. I scan the line of people. The crowd doesn’t look like our usual mix of college students and barflies. We make our way up to the front where the bouncer, Spike, stands with a permanent scowl and a clipboard in his hand.

“Hey, Spike. What’s going on here?” Hana asks.

Spike turns his head and sees us, and his demeanor instantly changes. “Hey! My two favorite patrons. What are you guys doing here on a Saturday?” he asks. Hana and I haven’t gone out on a Saturday since we were in college. The type of people who barhop in this city on a Saturday night aren’t really the type of people we usually associate with.

I sling an arm around Hana’s shoulder. “We’re celebrating mine and Hana’s new jobs.”

He grins wide. “That’s awesome! Congrats, you two.” He cocks his head toward the line. ”Unfortunately, we’re having a private party tonight. Some big wig and his older brother are having this company get-together. Invite-only.”

My pulse quickens. Could it be? I ponder name-dropping him to gain us entrance. I mean, what good is working for a billionaire if you can’t throw his name around to gain perks in this city? I try to sneak a peek over Spike’s shoulder at the guest list.

“Any chance there’s someone on that list we could pose as to get in?”

Spike shakes his head. “No can do, girls.”

Hana frowns. “Come on, Spike. We’re regulars. One drink. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices.” she pleads.

He looks between us sympathetically, then down at his clipboard. “Tell you what. Sneak around to the back and knock twice. I’ll text Chuck to let you in. If anyone catches you, say you work for the catering company and get the hells out of there. Got it?”

We both side-hug Spike before sneaking down the alley towards the back. We maneuver around the dumpster, reaching the back door marked “Deliveries.” Hana lightly taps twice on the door, and a couple of minutes later, a large man with a red beard pokes his head out the door.

“You Hana and Riley?” he gruffs.

“That’s us,” I reply. He nods and steps aside, allowing us to enter. We weave our way through the kitchen until we reach the bar. The lights are dim, and the walls are covered in kitschy decor. A five-foot mahogany bar runs along the back wall, where bottles of various liquors adorn the shelves. Not surprisingly, the whiskey takes up two shelves.

Two pool tables take up one side of the bar. A single dartboard hangs on the wall near the back. On the other side: one of those state-of-the-art jukeboxes where you can select songs from an app on your phone, and a 10x10 dance floor. This place is the definition of a dive bar.

I’m shocked at the size of the crowd. There has to be at least 100 people here. I don’t think the Double Tappe has seen this many people at once. Pretty sure this place is overcapacity. I hope the fire marshal doesn't show up.

The owner Drake is standing behind the bar — a dish towel draped over his shoulder — talking to two men, one younger, one older. The younger man’s hands gesture wildly as he speaks. He then says something to the older man and elbows him. The older man looks over at him for a split second, before scowling into his tumbler of scotch.

I grab Hana’s hand and pull her to the bar. “Hey, Drake. Two whiskey sours, please,” I say, holding up two fingers. He looks over to us, and his eyes light up.

“Hey girls. Fancy seeing you here,” he replies. “It’s about time someone orders a normal drink.” As he gets to work mixing our drinks, the younger man to my right turns to me.

“He wouldn’t know a real drink if it slapped him across the back of the head.”

I turn to get a better look at him. He has olive skin and dark brown coiffed hair, He’s wearing a silk black dress shirt with gold leaf details and dark washed jeans. The older man sitting next to him is wearing a maroon blazer and navy turtleneck with charcoal-colored slacks. The two of them couldn’t be more night and day if you tried.

“Come on now, whiskey sours aren’t so bad. In fact, they’re my favorite drink.” I reply.

He smirks. “You clearly haven’t tried anything with Viniq. I think you’d like it. You seem like the type of girl who enjoys a shimmery cocktail.”

Drake looks up from what he’s doing, shooting the man a death glare. “We don’t serve that garbage here, Maxwell.”

He laughs. “Dude! Do you realize how much more money you could rake in every night if you stocked it?”

“Glitter doesn’t belong in drinks. That’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” Drake growls as he sets our drinks on the bar in front of us.

Hana and I giggle and take them. I scan the crowd once more as Maxwell and Drake continue to bicker over alcohol. The patrons are all dressed to the nines, sipping colorful cocktails. Some of them are wearing the latest pieces from Fashion Week. I’m pretty sure that woman by the jukebox is wearing a tiger print jumper. These people definitely aren’t your typical Double Tappe customers.

Maxwell turns back to us. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names. Are you some of Bertrand’s new hires?”

Hana and I pause, glancing at each other. She busies herself with the straw in her drink, leaving me to explain our presence.

Shit, Riley. Think. What was it that Spike told us to say if we got caught? “We… we’re with the...uh…  the catering company,” I stumble. He cocks one eyebrow at me before turning to the older man on his right.

“I thought all the caterers left, Bertrand. Didn’t you send them home after dinner?”

The older man turns to his left, looking me up and down skeptically. “Yes. They were dismissed an hour ago,” He scowls. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead woman right now. “You do realize this event was by invitation only, correct?”

Our cover is blown. “Uh…” Abort! Abort! I grab Hana’s arm and start to slip off my barstool when a warm hand settles on my shoulder and squeezes firmly. “She’s with me.”

Hana’s eyes widen. My heart stops. That voice. I turn around and sure enough, there's Liam. He smiles down at me and I'm pretty sure my soul just left my body.

”What are you doing here?” I ask him, confused yet relieved.

“I’m on the guest list.”

Of course, he is. His best friend owns the bar. He probably just walked in — like an episode of Cheers — and everyone knew his name.

”You know these two?” Maxwell asks.

”Well, I don't think I've been introduced to this lovely woman here, ” Liam says, gesturing towards Hana, ”but Riley works for me.”

”Ah, another office drone, huh?”

Liam chuckles. ”She’s the kids’ new nanny.”

Maxwell smiles knowingly. ”Ah. So this is her. This guy’s been talking a lot about you.” He winks and cocks his thumb towards Liam “Well, it was nice to meet you, Riley. Riley’s friend. Have a good night.” He slides off his barstool and drags Bertrand towards one of the pool tables.

Liam extends his hand and introduces himself to Hana. He then takes the empty barstool next to me. He’s dressed down, wearing a black sport coat over a tight-fitting grey t-shirt and dark wash jeans. How does this man look so good in everything he wears? He motions to Drake, and a few minutes later, two fresh drinks appear in front of Hana and me.

”So, you’ve been telling people about me, huh?” It’s dim in this bar, but I can definitely make out a blush. “Why am I not surprised you’d be here tonight?” I say as I sip my drink.

He smirks and the butterflies in my stomach flutter. You’d need a chainsaw to cut the sexual tension in this room. His eyes look to Hana, then back to me. “Can I make a confession? I was hoping I’d run into you here tonight. I knew you hung out here a lot, and even though this was a private event, part of me was hoping you’d show up anyway.”

“We actually weren’t planning on coming out tonight, but Hana got a new job too, so we decided to celebrate.”

“Congratulations,” he says to Hana. She lifts her glass to his and nods before downing it. Liam eyes my drink. “Next round is on me.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say. “We’re the ones who crashed your friend’s party. We were only supposed to stay for one drink.”

He shakes his head and waves Drake over. “I insist.”

I nod as Drake approaches us. “Hey, Li. Another scotch on the rocks?”

“Actually, three shots of the finest tequila.”

Drake nods and reaches up to the top shelf and grabs a bottle of San Matías Rey Sol Extra Anejo Tequila. He places three glasses in front of him and pours the shots, before handing them to us.

Hana picks up her glass and observes it. ”Wow! I've only ever read about this tequila. They say it has notes of vanilla, caramel, and spice.” She brings the glass to her nose, inhaling deeply like some sort of tequila sommelier.

”Wait a minute. This tequila is $400 a bottle! We can't accept this,” I say, pushing the glass away from me.

Liam frowns. ”Why not? I offered to pay. I'm not expecting anything from you for it. You work for me now and I want to thank you for taking on the task of caring for my children.”

Isn't that what my paychecks are for? I stare at the shot for a few beats, contemplating what the gesture means. He said he wasn't expecting anything. Maybe he means it. Stop overthinking it and take the damn shot, Riley. When are you ever going to get the opportunity to try something this extravagant?

I shrug and pick up the glass. ”To new opportunities,”

”To new opportunities,” Hana and Liam say in unison as we clink our glasses together. We each take the shots, garnering different reactions. Liam nods in approval. Clearly, he drinks this stuff on the regular. Hana’s eyes light up and she swishes the tequila around in her mouth, enjoying the different flavors. My face puckers and I struggle to swallow, the shot burning as it goes down. Obviously, I don't drink tequila that often.

”That was incredible. I hope I can one day afford to buy a bottle of this for myself, ” Hana says, licking the remnants of the tequila from her lips.

“It’s perfectly okay to treat yourself once in a while,” he replies. He looks down at his watch and frowns. “Well ladies, fatherhood calls. Thanks for having a drink with me.” He motions to Drake for his bill and I sneak a peek as he pays the tab. That’s a lot of zeros! “Have a great rest of your evening.” He leans over to shake Hana’s hand then rises from his barstool and leans down towards me. His hot breath tickles my ear and my face warms. Obviously from the tequila, right? “You two have fun tonight,” he whispers. “Don’t drink too much. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

He smirks as I sit there trying to catch my breath, and just before he turns to walk away, he winks at me. Then, he’s gone.

[lunanight2012]

A Tale as Old as Time? Part 6

Here We go! It’s Christmas time!!! Also heads up, I now have 3 other Harry Hook x Cindy Luna Charming Stories that I’m working on. My brain doesn’t understand that enough is enough X’D

I smiled as we got the couches organized into theater like seating. I placed pillows on each couch, with Chad following my lead. I smiled at how it turned out. 

I rubbed my eyes a bit, damn contacts, stay in place for a bit longer. Chad seemed to notice my problem and pulled me to the side and looked at my eyes.

"Let me grab your glasses. I'm not sure this surprise is going to last all night." Chad whispered, causing me to nod.

I gave Chad the spare key to my room and watched as he ran off, running past the sea three.

"Where's he running off to?" Uma asked as she held out the big bowl of popcorn.

"He ran to get me something from my bedroom for me." I explained, rubbing my left eye.

"Everythin okay Love?" Harry asked a bit worried.

"I'm fine, just needed something for my eye." I explained, smiling.

"Let's make some paper snowflakes!" I exclaimed.

The three raised an eyebrow. I grabbed a stack of white paper squares and some scissors.

"Come on! Lets go sit at the table and I'll show you how to make them!"

~~~~~20 minutes later~~~~~~~

15 handmade snowflakes were made. Harry managed to make hook patterns, sloppy hook shapes, uma made tentacles, and Gil just made funny shapes.

"These look amazing! Let's hang them up around the room! Then we can decorate the Christmas tree!" I exclaimed, sneakily taking my glasses from Chad and sticking them in my pocket.

~~~~~~A couple later hours later ~~~~~~~~~

The room was decorated with paper snowflakes and the tree was decorated, everyone was in their seats. Evie and Carlos, Gil and Jay, Chad and Celia, Uma (took over an entire couch), and Harry and I each sat in our seats.

The first movie we watched was Frosty The Snowman. Then we watched Rudolph.

By the time we got to A White Christmas, I snuck out my glasses and placed them over my eyes. 

Soon enough everyone was asleep. Well except for me and Chad. We ran to my room and the other's rooms to grab all the presents, and I took out my contacts. Blinking into the mirror I smiled. Chad walked in just then.

"There's my special twin! Come on. We gotta get back before your boyfriend notices his first present." Chad smirked. 

We both headed back to our couches and i fell asleep on top of Harry. I took off my glasses first of course!

~~~~~~Christmas Morning!!!~~~~~

It's Christmas!!!! I slowly woke up, only opening my right eye, which ya know, happened to be my good eye that didn't require me to have my glasses on. 

I poked Harry's cheek, trying to wake him up. 

"Harold~~~ Harold Hook~~~! It's Christmas!" I sang quietly.

He slowly began to wake up, looking down at me, he smiled.

"Well, good mornin my lovely Cindy~! And Merry Christmas to you!" He stated, kissing my forehead.

"Come on! Let's wake the others! I'm so excited to open presents!" I exclaim as I got off of him and ran over to the other couches, poking my friends' cheeks to wake them up.

Of course Harry, Gil, and Uma were the only three who hadn't learned of my secret. But they'll find out today! Gahhh I'm so excited!

Harry smiled, before raising an eyebrow at me. "Love, why do ya only have yer right eye open?" He asked me, causing me to grin.

"You'll see soon! Now come on guys! Let's go sit around the tree, so that Chad and I can hand out all of the gifts! You too Dude!" I exclaimed, reaching down to pet Dude's head.

"Presents!!" Dude exclaimed causing us all to laugh.

"I still can't believe he ate a truth gummy and that's why he can talk!" Uma chuckled, petting the dog's head.

"That thing was nasty!" Dude stated.

Everyone soon slowly got seated by the tree. Evie and Carlos giving everyone a mug of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows. Chad and I began to hand out presents. Harry frowned when he noticed he had one less present then everyone. I smiled and kissed his forehead.

"You have a special present!" I exclaimed.

"Alright now normally at our place we start with the youngest to the oldest, but well, we're all the same age so um… First letter of your name, so it goes Carlos, Celia, Chad, me, Dude, Evie, Gil, Harry, Jay, and Uma!" I stated and everyone seemed to agree to that.

So presents slowly got opened. Carlos opened a present from Mal, and of course he got some sort of new electronic device. Celia got a new bag from Evie. Chad got a Chad action figure from Carlos, I got an Isle Pirate jacket from Evie, love it sooo much! Dude got a Christmas sweater from Evie, Evie got some new fabric from my mom! Gil was next and he went wide eyed, pulling out his gift.

"It's a bear? But it's so cute!" Gil exclaimed, hugging it. 

I giggled. "It's a teddy bear! My mom made it with some help from her mice friends." I smiled.

Harry was next but before he could open a present I stopped him. "Nope! You get your special gift first!" I exclaimed.

"So firstly let me get something." I stated, pulling out my glasses I placed them on my face.

"Now I'm gunna open my left eye, just don't freak out ok?" I stated with a blush.

Harry just nodded, confusion on his face. I looked over at my brother who smiled and gave me two thumbs up. To say I was scared was an understatement. I was also nervous. What if he doesn't like me anymore? What if…. No! Just show him!

I turned back towards Harry and opened my left eye, revealing my emerald green eye. Heh, sapphire and emerald, yep my eyes sure are gems… hehehe oh what?

Harry was crying.

"Harry? A-are you ok?" I asked, worry on my face.

He cupped my cheeks and smiled through his tears. "I didn't think I could get any luckier! Yer beautiful darling!" Harry exclaimed, his lips on mine.

I blushed but kissed him back, tears streaming down my face. We broke the kiss and I giggled.

"What?? What's goin on???" Uma questioned. 

I looked over at her and both Gil and Uma gasped. "Why do you have two different colored eyes?" Gil asked.

"I have my whole life. I got some sort of condition that caused me to have my mom's eye color and my dad's eye color." I explained.

"Best gift ever." Harry said into my hair as he hugged me close.

I giggled as presents were continued to be opened. Jay got a new tourney jacket. Uma laughed as she opened hers.

"Ok, who made this?" She laughed as she held up a teal tank with an octopus tentacles going across the stomach.

"That would be my mom as well. She knew you were big on that color and I guess she wanted to implement your octopus tentacles into it." I explained, leaning into Harry.

"I love it! This is great! You better tell your mom that I said thank you!" Uma exclaimed, hugging the tank.

Next up was Carlos again. We kept opening up presents until they had all been opened. I got a pair of boots from my parents, a pirate hat from Uma, a Cindy Luna Action figure from Carlos complete with a camera and pirate hat, Jay got me some Polaroid film, Gil, bless his innocence, got me some socks, they were cute, little bears on them, and Harry got me some new winter pjs, with hooks and glass slippers criss crossing each other. Oh and of course my brother got me new glasses, that again had a hook on one corner and a slipper on the other. Celia didn't get me anything but a hug but she's too young to have made her own money.

Harry got well the opportunity to finally see my real eyes. He got a suit from my parents, ok that's not very nice mom, oh right inside the suit was a note from my mom, apologizing for my grandfathers attitude, Evie got him a new shirt with the Sea Three's logo on it, "We Ride with The Tide!" He also got a tourney stick from Jay, a Harry Hook action figure, with detachable hook and pirate hat from Carlos, and of course Uma and Gil got him a winter coat, courtesy of Evie. 

Everyone seemed to enjoy their presents, which I was thrilled about! Evie got some fabric stuff, Jay got some stuff to help him play tourney, Uma got some new clothes and an octopus plush (Harry made the plush). Gil got some clothes and the teddy bear. Carlos got some electronics, and Celia got some new tarot cards and clothes. Chad got his action figure along with some clothes and a tourney jacket.

Oh and Dude got clothes, treats, and toys.

All and all I think this was the best Christmas ever! We cleaned up our trash and everyone began to chat. I smiled at this. I never had many friends most of my life. Then a year ago, Ben invited 4 villain kids to Auradon. At first I wasn't too sure about that. I thought they were going to wreak havoc on Auradon. But then I got to know them. Evie, Carlos, Jay, and Mal were nothing like their parents. I could tell they enjoyed the happiness of Auradon. Then they became good after Mal turned her mother into a lizard. Well I believe you know how the story goes.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Harry who had buried his face in my hair. I giggled, then remembered something.

"Oh! I forgot to give the twins their presents before they left!" I exclaimed, rushing out of the room, almost falling on my face in my haste.

Harry chuckled and watched as I ran back into the room, carrying two presents in my hands. I felt myself tripping over my own feet. 

To be Continued…...

[ephemeral-writings]

Everything I Need // 03

oh sehun x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3.3k

Everything I Need // oh sehun teaches you a thing or two about life. but falling for the boy who lived across from you was not what you had anticipated.  

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05

//////

Thankfully, there wasn’t another letter from your father found in your mailbox. Weeks passed before the anxiety in you finally let up, and you were back to your old self, a sleep deprived student with a sack of stress, but nevertheless, relieved that the non-existent communication with your father ceased. It was like the letter never existed.

However, the idea that he could possibly find you once--if-- he gets out on parole chips little pieces of sanity you still have within you.

“Let’s meet when I get out, okay? Appa will try his best to get out early so we can start over again.”

But you didn’t want to start over. You had to restart your life the minute you walked out of that house, and you will continue as so. Alone. You had managed three years without him, and if he had any thoughts on leaning on you for help, he was better off staying in prison.

It was Saturday night, and though you’d usually avoid all social events that forces you to interact with people, you had agreed to go to Jongdae’s birthday party since he did personally stopped you after class on Wednesday just to invite you. The least you could do was show up and wish him a happy birthday. Also, the better part of you decided that for your sanity, you needed to be somewhere that wasn’t your apartment.

You warned Jongdae beforehand that you’d be late since you were working, but he waved it aside, assuring you that the party wasn’t going to end at 11pm, the time you told him you’d finish work. So you rushed home after your shift, managed to squeeze in a quick four minute shower and apply the bare minimum of makeup just to look somewhat like you’ve made an effort. Your hair styled itself once you released it from the bun you had on for work, natural waves falling just below your elbows.

Jongdae had texted you the address earlier that week, but you didn’t think about checking it out first. Looking at the outside of the club now, you physically felt inclined to hop back in the cab you took and go home. The music was loud even from outside, you couldn’t imagine how wrecked your ears would be by the end of the night.

Here goes nothing.

There was a short line to get in, and you didn’t even wait five minutes before it was your turn to flash your ID and the bouncer finds your name on the clipboard he’s holding, and allows you through. Inside, it was loud, to say the least, but bearable. There are minimal tables floating around the circumference of the dance floor where small groups stood around, conversing with their drinks on the small round tables. Booths were elevated on a platform that wrapped around the whole club, some filled to the brim, others deserted as patrons found entertainment on the dance floor. The only thing that separate the dance floor from the tables were gold metal bars with red velvet detailings to match the floors. Somehow, even through the music, you heard your name being called out by someone. That someone being the birthday boy himself. He extricated himself from the large group of people, some of them peering at who Jongdae was running over to.

“You made it!” Jongdae gave you a one-arm hug, his other hand homing a cup with clear liquid.

“Yeah, I did,” you chuckle lightly and wish him a happy birthday to which he smiles gratefully.

“You look amazing. Was your hair always this long? How was work? Can I get you something to drink?” You could see that he was already tipsy from how warm his body was, and his hyperactive nature seemed tenfold as he fired questions at you before you could even open your mouth to answer.

“It’s alright, Jongdae. Why don’t you rejoin your friends? They’re looking for you, hmm?” You spoke to him as if you were speaking to a child. He gives you another hug before doing so, reminding you to have a good time. You weren’t too sure how to do that, but nodded in response.

You made your way to the bar which was on the opposite side of the club. A whole right wall made up the bar with a long mahogany island that separated the club go-ers and the bartenders. You found an empty seat easily, settling on it and trying to make yourself more comfortable in the unfamiliar setting. One look around and you noticed that everyone was around your age, some you even recognize from class. You guessed that Jongdae might’ve booked the whole club for his big day, and invited everyone he knew. You weren’t necessarily close to Jongdae, but he was the nicest person you’ve ever met and somehow made you feel like you were old friends. It was just too bad you don’t know anyone else at the party.

“Can I get you something, miss?”

The voice came directly from over your shoulder where your back was facing the island. You spun around to see a familiar face.

“Sehun?”

“Y/N?” Your neighbor looked surprise but not as much as you. A club was the last place you’d think you’d meet Sehun at, especially with the man standing behind the bar, asking to get you a drink. Speaking of which, you took a moment to appreciate his get-up. A striped button down with a small logo of the club embroidered on the right tip of the collar hugged his frame a little too perfectly. Around his neck was a velvet red necktie that matched the club’s red interior. Over his shirt was a neat, plaid vest also stitched with the club logo on the left breast. He cleaned up considerably well.

“Y/N,” Sehun called, snapping you back to reality. The tiny smirk on his face tells you he had caught you staring, and you flushed. “So, something to drink? It’s all on the house.”

“Um, I- I don’t know.” You really didn’t since it was your first time. All you knew about alcohol was beer and soju, the standard. “Surprise me, I guess.”

Sehun took a few seconds to think. As he leans on the granite top from behind the counter, you tried hard not to be distracted by the way his forearms taut and literally put out on display for you to drool over. His fingers tapped on the counter while he thinks, enticing you to follow the rhythm of it. Finally, after what felt like hours being under his spell, he moved to start making you a drink.

You watched, slightly amazed at the fluidity of his movements as he maneuvers behind the counter, walking to and fro and grabbing ingredients without even checking twice. He measures each component at a speed that wasn’t rushed nor lagged, just at a pace that showed off his expertise. It showed how comfortable he was, how confident he is in his work. He didn’t say a word as he worked, and it made you slightly self-conscious that maybe he wasn’t keen on talking to the girl who lived across the hall, nevermind serving her. Sehun finished off with some garnish, a thinly sliced orange and sprig of mint, and slid you the highball glass filled with a pink-orange gradient mixture.

You’re left staring at the piece of work in amazement before Sehun motion you to try it. You hesitate to mix the liquid, not knowing if you were suppose to drink it as is or blend the two colors. Sehun, noting the look of uncertainty on you, instructed, “Mix it, so that the flavors combine.”

You did as told, and took your first sip. It was a burst of flavors in your mouth, mostly citrus, and you barely tasted the alcohol you had seen him put in.

“It’s delicious,” you complimented, taking a few more sips before asking, “What is this?”

Sehun, though still ever expressionless, eyed you with mirth swimming in his eyes as he answered, “Sex on the Beach.”

You choked mid-swallow. “Excuse me?”

Sehun looked down, feigning wiping down his near-spotless station, as he attempted to conceal his grin. “That’s the name of the drink, Y/N.”

You flushed even deeper now that you’ve had something in your system. Mildly blaming the alcohol, you shut your mouth and continue nursing the drink. Sehun excused himself while he tended to two girls who appeared at the other side of the island. It was dim, you couldn’t make out the faces of the girls, but their body language said everything. If you could tell they were hitting on Sehun, you knew for sure he had an inkling as well. You could only see his back from where you sat, and you saw his shoulders bobbing up and down from something the girl in an all-black ensemble said. Maybe a pick-up line. And from the girl’s giggle, you figured she got the reaction she wanted.

The wonders of intoxication, you thought as the tension in your body begins to expel. You’re finding it easy to forget your worries and stray towards thoughts concerning your neighbor. Granted you’ve never seen a girl around his place, you couldn’t rule out the fact that he may have a girlfriend.

You’re far from drunk, tipsy maybe, at midpoint, so when Sehun came back after accepting something the girl slid on the counter, you request another drink. “Can I just get a shot, please, if I may?” Your words were beginning to blend, so you prayed Sehun understood you over the music and everything.

“So, you’re friends with Jongdae?” Sehun asked as he bends down to grab a bottle of Hennessy. He pulled a shot glass towards him as well, but he doesn’t pour the liquor in. Sehun wordlessly motioned you to finish your drink which you had a few sips worth left.

You play with the orange slice in your cup, stabbing it with the straw to release it’s natural juice compared to the cartoned juice you saw Sehun poured in earlier. “We’re classmates, yes, but I wouldn’t necessarily call us friends.” Your lips fell into a natural pout as you think about how nonexistent your social life was. “Jongdae is just really, really nice. He’s friends with everyone, so I guess that’s a yes to answer your question. Do you know him?” You asked, cocking your head sideways as you looked at your neighbor slash bartender.  

“Sorta,” he grunted, assessing how talkative you were in your intoxicated state. “He’s my boss’s cousin. Comes by too often, if you ask me.” You made a sound of acknowledgement followed by a loud slurp that indicated the end of your cocktail. Sehun quirked a smile when you shyly peeked over the rim of your now empty glass, silently asking him for another fill.

“You here alone?” Sehun questioned as he pour you a shot of the brown liquor. He traded you it for the empty glass when he was done. You made a face that Sehun couldn’t read, and downed the shot, morphing your expression from one of dejection to disgust.

“I didn’t choose to, y’know?” Your abrupt statement only made him more confused, but he continued listening, silently, intently.

“Jongdae, like I said, is really nice. He’s friends with practically everyone on campus. He talks to me in class even though I sit all the way in the back, and he sits in the front with his friends. But does that mean I’m not? Am I secretly a bitch?” You whispered the last bit, burning holes in the mahogany wood. You’ve lost Sehun, you think, but to your surprise the shot glass in front of you disappeared and you redirect your gaze back to your neighbor. Sehun poured you another shot, though significantly less than the first.

He placed it back on your coaster, making sure you’re looking at him and listening when he tells you, “You’re far from one, Y/N. You might be...a little difficult to approach but you don’t bite.” He shrugged, “At least not the first time we met.”

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed animatedly, assuming he was talking about the day you had locked yourself out. “I was really tired and stressed that day.”

“As you are every day, it seems,” Sehun mumbled with his arms crossed. “But that’s not the day I was talking about.”

You plopped your arms on the counter, too quickly for your reflexes that weren’t top-notch functional at the moment, and you end up hitting your funny bone. You pouted while cradling your elbow. “Then what day are you talking about? We’ve never talked before then.”

Sehun prepared to explain when another tender, one of equal build and dressed identical to him, appeared behind him, tapping him on the shoulder to gain his attention.

“Thanks for covering my station, man. You wanna go on your break now?” The guy offered to take over Sehun’s station as well. You noticed the hesitation in Sehun when he glances at you, so you quickly spoke up.

“Go! Don’t mind me! I have to look for Jongdae, anyways,” you urged. You slid down your stool without falling on your face, downing your third shot as you go, before shooting Sehun a thumbs up in thanks for the service. You didn’t hear when the other bartender asked Sehun who you were, and Sehun replied with, “My interesting neighbor.”  

You were more than buzzed, you weren’t dumb enough to not know that much. Though you were the one who told Sehun to leave you, you were regretting it already. You had to admit that talking to him came easy, or maybe it was liquid courage that made you spout all those sentences the way you weren’t used to. Not long after departing the bar, a man, evidently drunk, attempted a move on you. You don’t recognize him, even when you sobered up for a second when his hand went for your waist. The guy was eventually pulled away by his group of friends when he came a little too close to your face, invading your personal bubble. They apologized on his behalf, but you ignored them, walking the opposite direction to avoid further contact with them.

You spent fifteen minutes looking for Jongdae but to no avail and gave up. It was nearing 2:30am. You texted Jongdae, letting him know that you tried searching for him to say goodbye and thanking him for inviting you. You doubted he’d respond but at least he would know you’d left on the off chance that he goes searching for you later.

You were surprised that the party was still going strong. The dance crowd had simmered down, and instead of the loud head-banging kind of music that you had walked in on, the DJ had turned it to a more chill, house-party kind of vibe. Meanwhile, your feet ached from all the walking around you had done at work and just wished to be home, sleeping. In your haze, you stumbled out the wrong door. Instead of the main entrance, you had opened the door next to it. It led to an alleyway, one that separated the club’s building from the next one over. There was a metal fence cage that blocked loiterers on the streets from coming up on the property, but the other side of the fence was where you needed to be.

And boy, did you wished you could revert back in time and chosen the right door.

“I’m so sorry, excuse me,” you stammered, and you hated that you did.

The same girl that Sehun conversed with earlier sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes at the intruder, ruby red acrylics detaching from the man’s pecs when she steps back from Sehun’s frame.You were so sure she could claw your eyes out with her manicure. You ducked your head, refusing to look at Sehun or the girl directly in the eye to save yourself from embarrassment.

“Yah, Y/N?”

You stood paralyzed in dread when you heard the voice. Unwillingly, you looked at the girl standing in front of Sehun. You remembered her eyes being cold, black coals, but when your eyes met, you saw a piercing blue that made your blood run cold.

“It really is you,” she scoffed in disbelief. Jung Liah was your ex-roommate, the girl who made your first year of university a living hell. She’s changed her look. Before, her style didn’t matched her attitude, you suppose it took time to figure out her true colors. Her black on black matched perfectly well with her black coal of a heart.

You remembered dreading going back to the dorm because you knew all it held was her wrath, unwarranted and unrelenting, and the malicious remarks she made would torture you day and night. You never figured out why she hated you so much, but you had your assumptions.

“I see you haven’t changed one bit,” she sneered. “Always the nosy little mouse, you are.”

You knew exactly what she was referring to. One day, without any ill-intentions, you had decided to tidy up the room. It was a shared space, but Liah never thought twice about leaving her stuff strewn about, taking up your space as well. You had just bent down to gather the scattered pieces of paper when she came in after one of her lectures. Peeking through her belongings, she claimed, invading her privacy, she preached. You had muttered barely two words to defend yourself before she had kicked you out for the night.

After she blew up on you, it was never the same. She began to nick and prod at every “flaw” she found in you. If you didn’t shut your alarm after the first ring, she called you deaf. If you didn’t answer to her belittling, you were a mute and a coward. If you didn’t have weekend plans to party, she labeled you a loser.

Presently, you rolled your eyes. You noted a clear shock in her expression because no matter how many times she had put you down, you had never fought back. For her information, you had changed.

“Good seeing you, too, Liah,” you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. You turned to Sehun, barely, and nod your head once, before turning back to where you came from.

“Fuck. Shit,” you cursed under your breath. Your hands clenched at your sides, willing the tingles of alcohol to wash away in your blood.

A brief thought crossed your mind, hoping you hadn’t ruin the moment for Sehun, he was so nice to you, he doesn’t deserve to not get laid tonight because of you. But you suddenly remember the hell that Liah put you through, and you’re glad to have interrupted. More profanities left your lips. Your mind went haywire with thoughts that shouldn’t be in your head but are, like how Sehun looked so disarmingly handsome, and how unfair that girl who was so nasty to you is to be able to have someone of Sehun’s caliber.

You were so busy with your internal turmoil you hadn’t notice the grip on your shoulder until you were turned around, faced with the man plaguing your mind with unwanted thoughts.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, face expressionless with the slightest wash of anger.

You took two steps away from him. “Yes. Look, I’m really sorry, about interrupting. It was a mistake, honest.” You look side to side, up and down, everywhere to avoid staring at him smack dab in front of you. “I’ll see you around, Sehun. Thanks, for the drinks.” It took way more effort than necessary to look at him and smile like you meant it. Before he could stop you a second time, you bolted. You ignored the burning gaze behind you, ignored the buzzing alcohol in your system, and skittering of your breath.

So much for suppressing your worries. You might’ve unlocked a new case full of troubles.

[swanandapirate]

A Muted Hue of Grey (4/14) -- CSBB

Summary: Emma Swan liked being a PI in Boston. It was a fun job, she had an okay income and she was a good one at that, so there was no logical reason to try and leave. Except for the fact that she wanted to, so badly. And, when she received a job offer for what seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, she did exactly that. Leave. Run. All the way to London. The job was simple: trailing a man called Killian Jones. Easy enough.

Well, until things get complicated, that is.

Rating: M (later mentions of violence, alcohol abuse, and sex)

Wordcount: 3604

Links: ao3 // ff.net // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3

A/N: Eeeeeepp you guys, your feedback makes me so happy. It's been a real struggle to complete this fic with very little feedback and now I feel so spoiled <3 A cute, flirty chapter as a thank you :) The feedback that I did get these past couple of months was amazing, however, all thanks to these two crazy ladies @ofshipsandswans and @acourtoftruelove

And also thanks to @shady-swan-jones for the feedback and the art she gave in return!

-------------------------------

While giving Killian her phone number when he had asked her was a good way to keep in touch, she should probably have thought it through and asked for his number in return. Because now she was thoroughly stuck. Dependent on him, forced to be at his beck and call when he deemed the time since they had last seen each other respectably long enough to finally reach out.

Which meant she had to wait until he contacted her and considering she had literally nothing else to do, she was pretty bored. But she waited.

A day.

Another day.

She’d waited a grand total of five days before her phone had rung and showed a text from a number foreign to her phone.

Hi, Emma. This is Killian. I was wondering if you would fancy a coffee?

On the one hand, it did bring a big advantage hanging out with Killian. She wouldn’t have to follow him anymore, wouldn’t have to try and figure out what he was up to when she could simply ask him. But it was a line. There was a line and Emma did not know if she could cross it. Ethically speaking, her profession already skirted the edges of what was just and respectable, but the line was something personal; a border somewhere inside of her. This was knowingly betraying someone, playing double agent and to do that to someone who had no idea what he was involved in seemed unfair. She would do a lot to ensure that she thrived but knocking someone else down was a step too far.

Emma: When and where?

Killian: Are you always this dry in your texts?

Emma: Straight to the point, what’s wrong with that? It reminds me of back when you still had to pay by the text.

Killian: Dark and turbulent times, they were. Would 11 am tomorrow work? We could meet at Fika.

Emma: Fine by me.

Killian: See you then, Swan.

-/-

The heatwave that had tormented the country earlier that week had definitely left for good and pouring rain had taken its place. Rain, wind, and thunderstorms, but the oppressive sensation remained in the air. She loved summer storms—even though it was technically still spring. The moment when the electricity was almost tangible in the air, when the skies burst open, cool water a relief against warm and sunburnt skin. The blue flashes of lightning lighting up an orangey sky. But for the past few days, it had only rained. And rained. And, big surprise, rained. So much that the normally soothing clatter of it against her window now only bothered her and made her hanker for quiet—for the little taps against the glass to stop.

The little taps that were now attacking her umbrella as she walked. An icy blue-colored logo caught her attention and when she approached, the name of the shop in big letters of the same color became visible. She had arrived

Her head went from left to right while checking the street for any incoming traffic and when it was safe—no cars, buses, or cyclists in sight—she crossed. A couple just walked out of the coffeehouse, the two men smiling at her as they held the door open for her to enter. Emma smiled back, almost touched by the small act of kindness their gallantry brought. The couple exited and she entered.

Emma let her eyes roam and let her mind take in all of the new impressions. The inside decorations were clean and tight, nothing she’d expect a coffeehouse to be. Straight lines, bold colors. It was modern, something she never would’ve guessed watching from the outside. It looked like an IKEA showroom but on a whole different level and with a touch of hipster. She liked it. Obviously, someone with a clear vision had searched and matched furniture, had created this whole concept between four walls.

There was a colorful display of cupcakes that snatched her attention away from the decor and refocused it on the grumble of her stomach. She’d skipped breakfast—hadn’t had time to as she set her alarm for a time that had only left time room for her to dress fast and leave. Besides, it was 11 am and a Sunday—brunching was a thing. A thing mainly invented to be able to start drinking alcohol at breakfast and have it be socially acceptable, but a thing nonetheless.

“Swan!” was shouted somewhere above her and soon she saw the man to whom the voice belonged descending from a pair of stairs, his feet thumping so quickly that, before she could properly turn around, he was already standing beside her. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she returned the greeting.

“Welcome to Fika,” he beamed. “Also known as my current employment,” he admitted after a beat or two.

“A cupcake shop?”

Of course she, as PI Emma Swan, knew where he worked. But she also knew that Emma, the girl that had only recently met Killian wouldn’t know that and would have to be surprised. Or act as if she was surprised. Back to the acting, it was.

“And café. We sell really good cupcakes.”

“Okay.” Emma shrugged, accepting the explanation she didn’t really need or require. The cupcakes already looked delicious, she was sure they’d taste delicious too.

“I take care of the PR,” he continued to explain, almost trying to justify his profession.

“Of a cupcake shop and café.” She nodded while repeating his earlier words. “Got it.” She wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, but Killian’s slightly fumbling behavior about his job was keeping her from eating the aforementioned mentioned cupcakes. She’d gladly talk about it all (how he worked in a cupcake shop and a café) once she’d devoured at least one.

“We do have really good cupcakes.”

“I suppose I should try them at some point then.” A subtle hint. Some point clearly meant right now. Which Killian got, a nod confirming had gotten the message. Points to Killian.

Emma took another look at the display and singled out a couple of varieties she would not mind tasting at all.

A dark wooden door opened, revealing a pale woman with even paler hair. Her piercing blue eyes matched the color of her jumpsuit and frantically searched her surroundings for something until they stopped. They were looking for someone apparently.

“Sven!” She walked towards one of the waiters. “Where are the carrots for the carrot cupcake? Did you eat them again? How many times do I have to tell you that—” She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes caught sight of the two of them, now awkwardly shuffling on their feet as one did when they were a witness to something they were not supposed to see. “Killian! What are you doing here? It’s your day off. You couldn’t miss the sweets,” she concluded with a disapproving shake of her head, a few strands of white hair escaping her braid.

“Of course I couldn’t. Also, where else am I going to get an employee discount?” He winked.

“Nowhere because I’m your boss and I am going to keep it that way.” She turned to Emma, her white-blonde hair glowing in the dimmed and cozy lighting of the cafe. For a moment she simply watched her, her direct stare thoroughly looking her over, before her expression shifted from concentration to kindness and she smiled. “Hi, I’m Elsa.”

“Emma.”

“Nice to meet you.” She inclined her head, her braid moving against her shoulder. “Take a seat, someone will be with you right away.”

“Thanks!”

Killian’s prosthetic motioned towards the sitting area and as she walked in front of him, Emma could pick a place for them to sit. Eventually, she led them to a dark wooden circular table; not too secluded and far off from the counter but far enough to avoid the bustle of waiters moving about and customers lining up. Emma set her umbrella on the ground, hung her bag on the chair and took off her green raincoat before covering her chair and bag with it. Killian patiently waited and only sat down as she did, the both of them simultaneously scooting their chairs closer.

Here they were again, sitting across each other, having a tête-à-tête. But, while their previous encounter was an impromptu meeting, unforeseen and spontaneous, this one was planned. Agreed upon. Which meant that the stakes were considerably higher.

Killian could decide after today that he didn’t like her and wasn’t interested in spending more time with her. While her ego would most likely bruise upon hearing that, it was mostly the mission she was worried about. A lot was riding on the assumption that they would continue to hang out and she’d be able to continue this undercover assignment and if they didn’t, Emma wasn’t sure how she could fix that. She couldn’t undo her choice of approach and if he saw her trailing him, he’d surely think she was a stalker—a logical deduction. She had to make this work.

“The weather has been terrible, hasn’t it?” she asked, glancing to the big rain-stained window. “I want last week’s weather back.”

“Aye, I preferred having the sun, too.” His shoulders moved in a shrug and he cast a glance outside as well. “Oh well, you know what they say: if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

“Sorry?” she asked while leaning closer and frowning. “Who exactly says that?”

“People?” Killian answered with his own question, a whimsical look on his face.

She laughed and his hand went up to scratch the back of his head.

“No,” she said to try and stop him from feeling sheepish. “I mean, I like it but I tend to go for my own version which is: life fucking sucks, deal with it.”

“Which is also an approach,” he agreed while smiling, “Albeit a distinctively different one.”

“That’s why you work in PR and I don’t.” Her shoulders rose. “Speaking of: what does ‘taking care of PR’ entail exactly?”

“A bit of everything,” Killian replied. “I run the social media sites, write newsletters, respond to any complaints.”

Emma took one of the menus that lay on the table and unfolded it, letting her eyes roam over all of the possible foods and drinks she could drink compiled in a classy and clean list.

“I wouldn’t believe this place has any complaints. Look at this.” She pointed at no specific part because everything had the same level of quality and refined taste in decoration, everything fit the picture and vibe perfectly.

“It rarely does. Elsa is too professional for people to even try and find something negative about this place. But some people just can’t be pleased.”

“I don’t have the right temper for PR,” Emma admitted.

She’d get frustrated with people and roll her eyes constantly which would, in turn, frustrate the other person even more and they’d end up in a never-ending cycle, or perhaps it would end with Emma fired.

“I’m a patient man. And I’d like to think of myself as quite cordial and persuasive.”

Before Emma could either confirm or deny his statement, a waitress made her way to their table, a welcoming smile directed at them. She held a little notebook in her hand and flipped it to the next blank page to take their order. She had stashed her pen behind her ear and retrieved it, pressing the top to extend the tip and having it at the ready.

Her freckles were spread all across her pale skin, adding to the innocence that seemed to radiate off of her.

“Well, who do we have here.” She tilted her head to Jones. “Why are you here? Not that you can’t be here but it’s your day off.” She looked at Emma before leaning closer to Killian. “Ooh, who’s that?”

“Anna, easy.”

The woman took a big breath and slowly released it again. Her hands went up. “It’s okay, I’m calm.”

“Perfect. Emma, this is Anna, Elsa’s sister. Anna, this is Emma, a friend of mine.”

A friend of his. Was that their label now? They’d gone from strangers to friends. It was a positive sign, one that said she was making progress and didn’t have to be that afraid of Jones not wanting to hang out anymore.

“Hi, nice to meet you!” Anna greeted her excitedly.

“Nice to meet you, too, Anna.”

“What can I get ya?” Her red eyebrows soared with the question.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet.” Emma grabbed the menu again and suddenly the clean piece of paper felt overwhelming, filled with so many options and choices.

“Take your time. Fika is really important.”

Was she describing her own coffeehouse as really important? There was nothing wrong with some confidence when it came to your business but praising it to customers like that might not leave the best impression. Killian watched Emma and seemed to have picked up on her reaction to Anna’s statement.

“Anna doesn’t mean that the coffeehouse itself is really important,” he clarified and Anna herself realized that Emma had misinterpreted her words too.

“Oh no! Elsa and I grew up on the border of Sweden and Norway, and fika is this big, almost sacred thing there. See it as a coffee break but obligatory. It’s a ritual to avoid stress and we wanted to bring some of that mentality here, in one of the most stressful cities of the world, hence the name.”

“Wow, that’s nice. I really like that.”

“I really like you,” Anna responded. “You did well, Killian.”

“Just friends, Anna,” he reminded her. “I think I’ll go for an ordinary black coffee.” He brought everyone back to the matter at hand.

Right, they were ordering. Emma took another look at the menu, actually reading their options this time and trying to decide what sounded the most seductive.

“I’ll have a triple chocolate cupcake and a mocha latte, please.” She looked up from the menu to Anna and smiled.

Once she finished scribbling, Anna shut the notebook again. “Coming right up,” she said with her own smile before returning to the counter.

“Apologies for Anna. She gets overly excited about almost everything but she’s also about the sweetest person you’ll ever meet.”

“It’s fine. She does seem extremely kind.” She took the menu and stored it back with the others, the table empty again.

Killian hummed along with a song softly playing on the speakers spread around the café, his fingers tapping on the wood of the table. The hum was barely there, under his breath as if he couldn’t help but take part in the music, his blood thrumming with every note.

Suddenly, he remembered he had company and the drumming brusquely stopped, so did the humming.

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine,” he apologized.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve got a good voice,” Emma complimented and it was a genuine one.

“Thank you. Believe it or not, I used to be part of a band.”

The band was called Neverland, Jones was lead singer and guitarist of the band he’d founded together with three of his friends back when he was twenty-three. She didn’t have to believe him because she knew.

“Would it be bad if I said that I’m not surprised?”

Killian eyed her warily. “That is going to depend on why you’re not surprised.”

“You’ve got that whole rocker vibe going on. The tattoo, the necklace, the ever-present chest hair, the I-woke-up-like-this hair, not to mention the leather jacket,” she summed up using her fingers to count. “It either screams ‘I’m in a band’ or ‘I’m aspiring to be in a band.’”

He narrowed his blue eyes as he watched her. “I’m attempting to assess if that’s meant as a compliment or not.”

Emma lifted her hands, letting her eyebrows soar in a playful manner. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” A smirk played on her lips.

“Perhaps I would,” Killian replied, not missing a beat. Suddenly, everything felt more intense, the entire atmosphere shifted, coming down as a heavy feeling on her chest. It might’ve been his husky voice or the way he looked at her, but something was definitely happening and she had no control over it.

Before it got out of hand, she saw Anna approaching out of the corner of her eye. Emma let out a silent sigh of relief both because of the diversion and because the redhead was carrying a tray with the cupcakes she had long desired after.

“Here we are,” she said once she approached their table. Dimples appeared in her freckled cheeks as she kindly smiled before setting down the drinks. “So that’s a triple chocolate cupcake and a mocha latte for you, Emma.” Anna turned to Killian. “And a simple black coffee for you, ya big bore.”

“Oi,” he remonstrated. “Will you let me have my coffee in peace, please?”

“At least Emma got something interesting,” Anna argued, flicking one of her two auburn braids off her shoulder.

“We’re picking sides now, are we?” He crossed his arms in discontent. “And here I thought being your nice and dedicated colleague for months would put me ahead of a virtual stranger.”

“To be fair,” Emma interrupted, “my drink has chocolate and yours doesn’t, so I think it’s clear who the winner is here, Jones.”

Anna lit up and giggled when Emma joined her in making fun of Killian’s lack of originality. The two gave each other a quick high-five before Anna told them to enjoy their food and drinks and left them to be alone again.

“You’re nothing like I thought you were, Emma Swan,” Killian said while shaking his head, his lips curled into a smile.

“Is that a good thing?”

He didn’t answer, instead he took a sip of his boring coffee and the question was left unanswered, occasionally reminding Emma of its presence by buzzing in the air.

“What do you do in your off-time?” he eventually asked.

Emma did absolutely nothing in her free time. She usually had none, always busy working that she’d forget to even eat. All of her friends—she had like four, but who cared—knew that and tended to bring her food to make sure she was fed and to use as an opportunity to hang out.

“Not an awful lot,” she told him truthfully. “I’m famous for working a lot. I am going to attempt to start working out again now that I’m here. You?” She drank from her cup.

“I read a lot, like to go to museums. Like any Brit, I like watching football. Proper football,” he specified. “Not some American BS.”

“Hey,” she objected. She might not be a sports person but she was still American. “Have some respect, please. Besides, at least American football has some action going on. Soccer is pretty boring.”

“Take that back,” he threatened with his teaspoon, his eyes turning into slits.

Emma shook her head defiantly.

“Fine, you’ve left me no choice.” He raised his shoulders. “I will have to make you watch a football match.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” She cockily challenged him by resting her head on her palm and leaning closer. “I don’t really get pressured into things.”

“I’ll kindly ask you to come to my flat to watch a match. Food and beer will be present and in the unlikely event that you are bored, we can watch something else.”

Emma watched him. Going to his apartment, eating together, cozying it up while watching television it all seemed slightly too… well cozy. Slightly too date-like. But what choice did she have but to accept? Getting closer would mean more information and it wasn’t as if spending time with Killian would be the worst thing the world. Far from it, actually.

“Okay,” she agreed. “But you need to make sure you have beer because I don’t think I’ll survive it otherwise.”

“And people tell me I’m dramatic. But that’s a deal.”

They continued to talk about other mundane, safe stuff. What kind of movies they liked and whether London was a better place than Boston (Killian said yes, Emma said no.) Before they knew it, hours had passed and they’d both drank two drinks and she’d eaten two cupcakes (So. good.)

“I better get going,” Emma said. “I still have some groceries to do.”

She began to gather her stuff, her bag and coat on the chair, her umbrella in the corner, before standing up. Killian followed her immediately.

“I had fun today, Swan,” he told her and she couldn't help but nod along. She’d truly enjoyed the time they had spent together today, maybe even more so than last time.

“I did too.” She zipped up the zipper of her coat. “Just text me your address and when you wanna bore me to death by forcing me to watch soccer.”

“Mark my words, Emma Swan. You are going to hate how much you’ll love it.”

And the only word she could think of to describe the way he promised her that was confident. Confident and sexy.

But she refused to agree, it didn’t matter how sexy that irritating smirk was. “That’s what you think.”

“Oh, trust me. I know.”

“Bye, Jones.” She started walking away, waving to Anna as she made her way to the exit.

“Oh, and Swan,” Killian spoke just as she was about to open the door.

“Yeah?” Emma turned back to him, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“This isn’t a date,” he dared to tell her.

Emma scoffed. “You wish, Jones.”

A salacious grin as he waved her goodbye left Emma leaving with her own grin.

---------------------------------

Today is actually the three-year-anniversary of my blog and the three-year-anniversary of me writing fic so I'd like to thank you all for following me and/or reading the things I write. It means the world to me! We'll meet here again on Thursday <3

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Idolish7 17 | Hinamatsuri 8 | Boueibu HK 8 | BnHA 46 | MSO 9 | Rokuhoudou 8 | Code:Realise 13

Idolish7 17 (FINAL)

The culture clash here is hilarious! It’s pretty obvious this unknown guy is Douglas, though.

I can’t believe they’re doing these songs! I’ve known about these songs for a while, since they made waves a few years back – I think Memories Melodies’s music video was animated by Studio Bones and Leopard Eyes by NAZ.

Come to think of it, they never really show idol shows from the fans’ perspective, so this girl’s shots (Aya’s?) are a new thing for the entire genre…

Huh? Wait…this is the real Aya! Oh my gosh!

Well, that’s the end of another show. See you around.

Hinamatsuri 8

Where is “home” for Hina, though?

Geesh, the continuity on this show…what they’re saying right now means the opening of the episode was in medias res, dangit. Stop being so confusing.

I don’t really care about Ikaruga, I care about the “Standing Sushi Bar” in the back more…sorry, Ikaruga.

A few episodes, Hina really was homeless…hmm, continuity’s back in action here.

“Hurray for Psychic Powers” – I was reminded of a book that once appeared in Kado. Unfortunately, that book’s name is Ningen Manzai with all kanji, so it’s not a very close reference if it’s intended to be one…

“Ma Monthly” – Well, wouldn’t you know it? Boueibu collabs mean something here! See, this magazine is a parody of Monthly Mu, which (for some arbitrary reason) decided to team up with Boueibu back in 2016. Hinamatsuri even parodies the magazine’s logo properly! Amazing!

More namahage gags. C’mon, they wouldn’t escape me. They’ve been appearing for a while now, those.

Last time an anime character had a master the same age…*thinks back* That would be Ore Monogatari, with Saijou! Man, that was a while ago. If you don’t count the “same age” bit though, you have OPM and BnHA, which are a lot more fresh.

Jojothan’s (sic)? Is that a Jojo reference, a Johnath…aww, it doesn’t seem to exist. Dangit.

Hitomi’s going to take the dog in, isn’t she?

Even Hina’s shirt says “byebye”…geez, this is kinda saddening already.

Now Hina’s shirt says “sayonara”…why did they poke a hose through her nose, anyway? It made me laugh, sure, but…it’s stupid anyway.

What does Hinamatsuri do without “Hina”, anyway?

Oh, so that’s the significance of that part (post-credits sequence, ep 1)! I didn’t like that part, so I wished to never see it again, but now that it has some significance…it can stay.

I don’t think I’ve seen that image of Nitta with the hand to his head, with the vases on the side before…it must be new.

Normally Hina’s in the seat next to Nitta, right? Oh dear. Also, Utako’s missing and you can see Nitta’s sister in the bar shot as well. The rock singers who wanted to go to the Budokan with Hina are in the back, too, although there may be some people I don’t recognise in the bar shot as well…

Jinsei wa Survival = Life is Survival, not Life is About Survival…

Boueibu HK 8

Summer episode! At least it doesn’t sound as bad a fanservice episode than episode 7 did…(for Astral’s sake)

Karurusu brought back En’s old “What did you say?!”, but now there’s a rakugo background! (small LOL)

I can’t believe Manza tried to push his glasses up in the bath (LOL). Is this what glasses-wearers have to go through?

These seem a little too specific…and to Wakura’s sadistic taste for that last one…to be anything Kyoutarou thought up on his own. (i.e. They probably actually happened.)

Huhhhhhh…I think we finally had an actual woman appear on this show…amazing! (The Osomatsus’ mother, she has a name but I forgot what her name is.) Must be Osomatsu-kun from the ‘60s or ‘80s though, because that sure as heck ain’t the “gets episode 1 pulled from Crunchyroll” Osomatsu-san. I watched the entire season one of that thing, remember?

That dot point looks like a shell for some reason. It’s just two circles put together though. My brain must be in a summer mood from the episode, eh?

I know there’s one jellyfish where you have to cure the sting by peeing on it…oh sorry. I’m falling into Mahou Shoujo Ore’s “crass jokes” trap…

Dougo…likes natto? Weird. Plain weird.

I almost thought they were going to go camping just to fulfil the gap left by YuruCamp, but I guess the audience for YuruCamp and Boueibu doesn’t really cross over. I’m such an anomaly in that case, huh? I still want to know Pinecone-chan’s VA, come to think of it…

Like, c’mon! I can’t even break down that joke (Rashio Taison), it’s too obvious from looking at his name in furigana!

So Rashio is like the snowman from season 2…and the volleyball guy from season 2…maybe Kurotori? I don’t remember his school circumstances anymore…

They used CGI on the plane…? If they did, I barely noticed it until I played the scene again.

Oh wait, that’s a Studio Comet plane…ahaha…(look at Studio Comet’s logo for the joke explanation)

*crashes head on wall* Martha Shirahone…*eyes blank*…Martha Shirahone…Martha’s a girl’s name!!! Does that mean Astral wins?! My pride and the Boueibu status quo have both been wrecked if Martha (sic) really is on the non-binary spectrum…and it’s not some weird Engrish typo…Poor boy though, he spent 4 years depriving himself of one of his favourite things to prevent himself from being teased. (Okay, this “Martha” spelling’s going to annoy me for a while, so I’m going to revert back to “Maasa”…)

Interestingly, Maasa seems to be using a standard vinyl umbrella and not a “student-council-worthy” one. Update: Nope, this one’s sanctioned by the British Royal Family.

Eh? What’s with this monster’s face? He doesn’t have one, does he? I know what the kanji on his face is, but…I think this might be a first. A monster without a face whatsoever.

Is it just me, or did they get CGI for those clouds as well…?

Wait, so even Karurusu is against the idea of fighting this monster? Mr Enthusiastic’s kinda selfish, eh?

Kyoutarou’s still wearing his school swimsuit. But this definitely reminds me of Dark Aurite with the lip coloration...

Wakura so obviously followed Ryoma’s voice instead. It’s pretty much what Astral termed a “nutshot” for MSO ep 8, only it’s…meant to be kinky (I’m not feeling it, y’know?). I’m just vaguely miffed right here that they could be trying to put a cheap joke in Boueibu.

Ooh, nagashi somen with its bamboo…thingy…looks cool. Oh, but Ibusuki…no wonder Ata likes this kind of noodles.

Karurusu’s flag says “summer” on it.

It’s a bit blurry, but the bus says “campground” as its destination.

I wonder if that “spirit of fear” thing was a joke? I’ll come back and find it later. Update: There’s no joke there in Japanese…the word for “spirit of fun” sounds like kyuuki and then “spirit of fear” is just dokidokishiteru (which is just a word for the heart pounding, suggesting nervousness in this case).

Hey, someone (Ryoma) noticed Taishi’s angry outbursts for once!

What, the monster has a mouth, so he does kind of have a face…? (I’m confused…what constitutes “face” with this guy anyway?)

Karurusu…he dab! (…Kind of.)

Full transformation sequence again…*sigh*

Noticeably, you can only see Ryoma nodding when the Rajio Taiso monster asks if you can do rajio taiso outside of summer. I’d assume this is because Ryoma’s the one with the grandpa who does it all year round, but it might just be a space constraint. You never know with these things.

There’s another pun I need to go back to – “I feel radio calis-cleansed”. That can’t have worked in Japanese…Update: Uh, there was actually one here. It seems to be a pun on taiso.

Aw, Rashio’s so happy. Even if I think the staff have reached a new low with the “petty” on the monsters this time around, just seeing that smile lights up my face too.

Why do I feel a Madoka moment coming on right here with Karurusu’s promise?

It’s a Kagerou Project-style time loop, but for August 31st! Yikes! This is going to get confusing…

Yeah, it’s better not to think about time loops, Kyoutarou. You’re right.

Is “firework” a verb? Or is that wasei-eigo? Or slang? Or both? More things to not think about there…methinks. Update: Dougo says “hanabi taikai shimashou!” (literally “let’s do a fireworks tournament!”), so it’s not wasei-eigo, nor is it a verb. It’s just an unconventional subber’s choice.

They censored a big sign in the preview! But Crunchyroll doesn’t have episode 9 yet because of the French Open! Dangit!

I love how the blue bars randomly go “La la la laaaaa!”…LOL. But it also says “they find party dice in the clubroom…” (because it’s bushitsu kara dete kita no wa party saikoro).

BnHA 46

“Those acts are the same as those of villains.” – Actually, that would be the acts of vigilantes…*thinks about the Vigilantes manga*

Because Kouta’s letter was in hiragana, I could understand most of it…eh, my skills are pretty shabby after all. I couldn’t even understand the last line much.

“like a pair of tight jeans” – LOL, Best Jeanist seems to love a good jeans pun, eh?

Come to think of it, Gran Torino doesn’t have a number to his hero status, right? He’s just an ol’ fart after all, even if he’s mighty skilled.

We haven’t seen Mt. Lady or Shinrin Kamui (“Forest Kamui” would probably be his English name, but it’s in katakana…and it sounds stupid, to boot) in a while, come to think of it.

I didn’t think Iida was going to go with them! Wow, what a twist!

I always thought having two Kirishimas in the same season was funny enough (Ryoma from Boueibu and Eijirou).

Kamino? Because the subbers spelt it with a C, that seems like it should be a reference for some reason…Update: Yep, it is!

What’s up with the roses around Todoroki? Are you trying to make the fangirls squeal like this is some shoujo manga? Yeah, right! (laughs in the background anyway)

Aizawa looks really different in a suit…hmm, I normally like men in suits but I’m kinda iffy on suit!Aizawa. *ponders for a second* I prefer his old style more, actually.

MSO 9

Noticeably, Michiru uses koitsu (“this guy”) to refer to Ore. It does tell you something about how Michiru views her enemies.

What’s up with Mohiro in a dress? Princess Peach parody?

Even Saki’s ahoge goes “Oh!”, LOL!

A heart shake for the yuri fans…and stupid glasses for my entertainment. (Thank goodness you’re still catering towards me, show…)

That joke about murdering Hyoue completely went over my head…I get what it was trying to do, but…not funny, man. Not funny.

Michiru uses the –ssu ending that Dougo and Yumoto use, too…

Oh…dear. I think we have more than enough of the word “Happy” with Happy Kiss…now this mascot, too???

I thought Hyoue’s surname was “Kuroda”? Or is that just my imagination? Update: It seems I made it up…

U-Uh, hey…so this was their real intention with those eyecatches, huh? Another “draw me like one of your French girls” memes is in order! Wait, but Ruka’s magical girl form isn’t doing the right pose…aww.

It seems Ruka isn’t into the Magical Girls (it’s implied she’s into Michiru instead), but Michiru’s into Ore…just as Astral guessed.

If that sentence didn’t make sense, it wasn’t meant to! It was just a bunch of long English words thrown together…although “jihad” certainly isn’t English. I wonder if any religious people will get angry at that word being used so casually, though? (I didn’t expect to laugh so hard at these guys. Konami’s my favourite character – of course he is, considering the karaoke episode - but I think I have an appreciation for these guys now.)

LOL, me and Astral like to complain about how thinking up new attack names takes an hour or so…so we totally know your feel, Michiru.

If you look at the scene where PRISMA are shown to attack, it says bokasuka, which apparently means “lots of hits and punches in succession”. It’s basically like subbing it “fistfight!”, “kapow!” or something.

Happy-chan doesn’t even have a body in tiny form!!! What??? (LOL)

Can we please stop with the montages?! A show is better when people bother to animate stuff, alright?!

Happy-chan went “doukashira?” (-kashira is a female sentence ending) which made me laugh because it’s a contrast to that head of his.

Happy-chan doesn’t even have hands…I’m not sure how he’s meant to live like that, y’know?

That catchphrase has less impact the second time around, it seems.

Hmm…so it was actually foreshadowing for Michiru’s love, huh? I thought it was pandering to tsundere stereotypes…

As much as I laughed at the ol’ kick to the face, are Happy and Kokoro really brothers? Or is this just filler after all?

Oh, this new ED is “We’re Not Magical Girls” by the Mahou Shoujo unit (Saki/Sakuyo)!

You can spot a tiny magical girl figurine with pigtails on Yamo’s desk if you watch at the right time.

PRISMA’s song is called “Love/Attack!”

They actually got a next episode preview narrated by demons?! (LOL) This is a new level of weirdness, and I’m actually glad to have heard it with my own ears (because I’m trembling with laughter right now because of it). But…they talk at the end! They can speak?! Whatttttttt?!

Rokuhoudou 8

Gure’s got stud earrings. Don’t think I’ve noticed them before…

It appears to be a florentine and not a “florentin” like the subs say. It is just missing an “e” though…

Happy, happy! I think Karurusu got me into the spirit of being happy all the time…or at least happier than I used to be, anyway.

Seriously, this middle school kid acts like a Boueibu monster, it’s hard not to make a comparison.

Gure’s so goofy, I’m laughing as much as I normally do for Boueibu or MSO…Rokuhoudou isn’t normally like this, that’s all.

“good way to sober up” – It sure doesn’t seem that way for Tsubaki, though…poor soul.

That style with the lips…it’s so un-Rokuhoudou, and yet it still works! I can’t think of what it reminds me of, though, because it seems to remind me of another anime or manga and I can’t put my finger on it. Update: Maybe MSO? That’s the closest thing I can think of that matches right now.

Hey, come to think of it, doesn’t this guy look like Shishigami from Inuyashiki? Their outlook on life is mostly the same, too! (from what little I know about Shishigami in passing)

Uh…Gure? Didn’t anyone teach You about stranger danger?!

The delinquents…are in the duck boating club?! Well, that was a surprise…

This pretty much became my favourite episode, even though Tokitaka’s still my fave Rokuhoudou boy, LOL.

Code:Realise 13

Since I don’t know whether to denote this as the final episode or not, I won’t note it as anything…

Isn’t Cardia Lupin’s girl? Hands off, Impey!

The newspaper Herlock’s holding has an ad for animators…wuh? In the Code:Realise Victorian era? No way, Jose!

[natalie-larsen]

the first date

(( i wrote this at like 1 in the morning so if it’s bad that’s why or at least that’s what we’re going with. word count 3280 ))

“Are you sure this looks good?” I ask my maids while I look in the mirror at my tan colored romper. It’s definitely the most casual thing I’ve worn at the palace yet, but it’s exactly my style.

“Miss, you look stunning,” my head maid, Jacie, tells me. I turn around and I give her a look of unsureness, “Prince Ben is so lucky to go on a date with you.”

I look back at myself in the mirror and mumble to myself, “I’m more lucky to go on a date with him.”

Kaiden looks up from the vanity where she is putting everything away, “what did you say?” she asks curiously, with a hint of a smirk on her face.

“Nothing,” I say quickly looking back at myself and turn to see my whole body in the mirror. Kaiden was about to say another thing when there was a knock at the door and I very unladylike run over to answer. I open the door to see Ben standing there in the most casual outfit I’ve ever seen him in, a cream colored sweatshirt and light jeans, and man did he look good. “Hey!” I said quickly with a smile.

He returns my smile with his own gorgeous one, “hey Natalie. Ready for our date?”

“Yes,” I turn back to my maid all standing by the bathroom and wave them goodbye, Kaiden gives me a little thumbs up which gives me a slight boost of confidence. I close the door and look back at him, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm,” he says as he offers me his arm, which I quickly take, “pretty much everyone so far has wanted it to be a surprise. Should I keep it that way for you too?”

I shake my head slightly almost immediately, “no, I’m super curious,” I say hoping not too anxious.

He lets out a small laugh and we start walking down the hall, “are you sure? Last chance to be surprised, Larsen,”

I purse my lips looking over at him hesitating, “should I just be surprised?” I slightly joke, but like if it’s like a death trip I’d like a little warning.

“You don’t have to, just me teasing,” he chuckles.

I use my hand and lightly hit his arm, “ugh, you and your teasing.”

He smiles, that smile I will never get used to, “it’s in my genes. I can’t help it. But I’ll tell you our date to make up for it,” he looks down at me, “we’re going to the boardwalk.”

I look up at him, my face lighting up, “really? I’ve always wanted to go to one!” Ever since Lola and I couldn’t go to one when we visited Clermont, I’ve wanted to go.

He seems pleased with himself, “then that random jar worked out in your favor?”

I look up confused, “jar?” What the hell is a random jar?

“Oh,” he smiles, “I was… pretty lost for date ideas. Got ambushed by my siblings and they helped come up with a list for dates. We picked your guys’ names out of a jar afterwards and randomly put them with a date.”

I nod, “that’s actually pretty smart.” We continue our journey down the path to the boardwalk as we talk about surfing and activities we do for fun.

We arrive at the base of the boardwalk as we both look around, the bright neon lights are gorgeous, “where to first?” Ben asks pulling me from my trance.

“Hmm, which place is the most fun?” I ask.

He bites his lip and points to a small building in front of us with a huge ice cream sign hanging in front of the door, “maybe some ice cream first?”

My face lights up, I couldn’t quite remember the last time I ate ice cream, “Oh that sounds good.”

He smiles down at me and walks us over to the shop, with a few people in line ahead of us, “what would you like?”

I stand on my tip toes to read what the flavors are and answered after a little, “I’m thinking chocolate peanut butter cup.”

“Oo that sounds good. I’m going for chocolate caramel,” he smiles, “it’s great here.”

I look at him, “chocolate person?”

“Huge. I probably like it a little too much,” he chuckles looking down at me.

“Same, chocolate should go on everything.” We continue talking about what we like best with chocolate and how everyone thinks that no one should love it as much as us. He orders for us, the person working immediately noticed who he was, because it’s freaking Ben Schreave. Ben handed me my cone and we walked to the end of the pier and watched the waves of the ocean. We each take a couple licks of our cones before he starts up the conversation again, talking about our love for the beach and where all I’ve traveled with family and friends. “I really like Paloma because of the beaches.” I look over at him taking another bite.

“Good answer. Would have been a pretty big deal breaker if you didn’t like beaches,” he teases me with a smile on his face.

I lean forward against the railing and smile, “what else would be a deal breaker?” I ask curiously.

“Not appreciating my glasses for starters, I’ve had mixed reviews,” he laughs to himself and finishes off his cone.

I look at him and imagine what he’d look like in glasses, and I could tell that he’d already look really good with them. I chuckle and smirk at him, “don’t worry, I like guys in glasses.”

“Then I’d say we’re golden,” he returns my smirk and looks back around at the boardwalk, “where to?”

I finish eating my cone and look around, “let’s go to the shops.”

“Which shop first?”

“What would you rather do? Tourist stuff or normal shopping?”

He grins, “let’s be tourists for a couple hours. I expect you to be wearing the cheesiest hat by the end of today.”

“And you’ll be wearing the ugliest sunglasses we can find.”

He lets out a small laugh, “then it’s on Larsen,” he states as we start walking over to the very tourist looking shops.

“So how cheesy are we thinking this hat will be?” I’m only imagining the kind of hats we are about to come across.

“I’m thinking… dad cap with an awful logo,” he raises an eyebrow at me, “what kind of sunglasses are we talking about?”

I think for a second, “big big frames, maybe some glitter?”

He snorts, which is adorable by the way, “glitter?”

“Do you like glitter?”

“I don’t exactly have a problem with it, I just didn’t imagine I’d be wearing it anytime soon,” he says as he gives me a lopsided smile looking down at me.

I reach up and rest my hand on his shoulder, “oh you will be.”

He chuckles, “I have no doubt you’ll find a pair just like you want,” he points out at a tacky looking shop, “let’s start there.”

I nod and we walk in immediately starting to look for our designated object for the other. I hold up a huge pair of bright orange glasses that have glitter all over them, “these?”

He purses his lips and then shakes his head, “no, not those,” and then he goes back to his journey of finding me the perfect hat. I continue looking around for the ugliest sunglasses I could find for him, but I’m slowly giving up and join him on his hat adventure. He keeps looking while I’m next to him but then all of a sudden he has a big grin on his face, “I’ve got one,” it pulls it out to show it to me, in big bold hot pink letters ‘I’m with handsome’ with an arrow pointing to the right on the most bright neon green baseball cap I’ve ever seen. “It’s perfect.”

My jaw drops to the ground, “oh my god,” my hand reaches up to cover up my mouth and I start dying laughing, “that is it, it’s perfect.” He puts the hat on my head and adjusts it to make it look perfect before he places his hands on my shoulders to turn me around to look in the full length mirror behind me. I’m just a laughing mess while he is standing to my right behind me with the biggest grin on his face laughing at our reflection in the mirror.

“We look great.”

“We look amazing.”

He makes eye contact with me in the mirror with the smile still on his face, “we just need to find me some shades and we’re all set.”

I quickly turn around to find the best sunglasses in the whole world, I’m looking at every single rack this place has to offer when out of the corner of my eye I see them. I gasp and run over to them and grab them, “Ben! Ben! These!” I say as I am running around the store trying to find him and hand them the bejeweled black frames with a giant glittered palm tree on one side with the same sized glitter flamingo on the other.

He takes the sunglasses and laughs, “oh my god, yes,” he puts them on and gives me a big smile, “how do they look?”

I have the biggest smile on my face because we look like such dorks right now just laughing at each other. “Amazing. You’ve never looked better.”

He laughs and takes off the glasses, “let’s pay for these so we can show em off. Everyone deserves to see them.”

I take off my hat and hand it to him, “everyone is going to be so jealous,” I smirk at him. He takes the items to the register and pays for them, then handing me the hat back while he puts on his glasses. I adjust the hat so it fits me perfectly.

“Ready?”

“So ready. How do I look?” I asked placing a hand under my chin posing for him.

He laughs and smirks, “you look like you’re with handsome.” I squint my eyes at him and shake my head, “you also look great, don’t worry.” He holds my hand as we walk out of the store and back down the pier looking around as we go. We start getting looks from people some are even laughing, which I’m not used to. I start to feel insecure, I don’t even realize that I am slowly leaning into him and hiding my face in his shoulder.

I let out an awkward laugh, “so many people are laughing.”

He looks down at me with a small smile, “wear it proudly, I look just as ridiculous,” I try to straighten up a bit and put a small smile on my face but it doesn’t last long because I can only just see the weird looks people are giving. And Ben is just grinning at complete strangers, not giving a care in the world about their reactions. How does he just do that? How can he just walk around looking like a complete fool and not even care? He can tell that I went back to my insecure state very quickly, he bites his lips looking down at me. I feel a tug at my hands, “come on, let’s go over here,” he says as he walks us off the boardwalk.

I feel like a complete idiot, I just messed up everything. I couldn’t keep my smile on my face. I’m literally on my dream date with my dream guy right now, I couldn’t just suck it up for 5 minutes and put a smile on my face. I can’t look up at him, “sorry,” I let out really quietly.

He shakes his head and pushing his ugly sunglasses onto his head, “don’t be. I don’t always have a problem with stuff like that, but that’s just me.” he gives me a reassuring smile, “want to head under the pier?”

I nod, “I just feel bad, that was supposed to be something fun and I ruined it.”

He bends down to meet my eyes with his perfect smile still on his face, “don’t feel bad, alright? It was still fun to me,” he taps the rim of my hat lightly and I put a small smile on my face, “good.” He stands straight again and takes off his converses. I follow him and doing the same taking off my sandals and holding them by the straps. The sand feels so good against my feet, they have been stuck in heels so for long the soft sand felt so good. We walk to the edge of the water and just stand there, the waves rising against their feet every few seconds then disappearing again. We get back to our usual talking, he makes fun of me for being a “party girl”. I look around at the view around us, I notice one of the pillars holding the boardwalk up and look back at Ben with a mischief look and smirk on my face.

He raises an eyebrow at me, “why do you look like you just figured out a sneak attack to push me into the water?”

I curl my lips in, “maybe I did,” I turn back towards the pillars, “I’ll beat you!” I shout and start bolting towards the pier.

I hear a laugh come from behind me and runs after me, he catches up very quickly and then passes me soon after, “not today!” I hear before I see the figure run right past me. I try to pick up speed but there isn’t much speed for me to pick up. He just keeps going and going, getting faster and faster and then reaches the pole and leans against it to catch his breath. “It was a good attempt.”

I reach the pole a little bit after him and almost fall to the ground. I did not think the pillars were that far away nor did I think I could run that fast for that long. “Th-that’s… unfair.” I say in between breaths, I look up and point at him, “you’re fit.” I look down resting my hands on my knees.

He chuckles, “doing alright?” resting his hands on his hips.

I stand up laughing, “I haven’t run that fast since high school.”

“And what was the reason than to run so fast?”

I laugh thinking back to the memory, the whole group was there, give or take a few people, sitting around in a circle in my backyard. All talking about whatever was going on then. Adrian decided to give me a special gift, something I would quote-on-quote ‘never forget’, “for my birthday my friend put a very angry squirrel in a box and give it to me.”

He makes a face and lets out a short laugh, “a squirrel? Why would she do that?”

“He actually, and he did it because the day before I accidentally ran over one with my car and I was crying because I killed it. He, of course, thought it was the funniest thing ever and I guess he wanted the whole squirrel species to go against me,” I look over at him and laugh, “don’t worry I made it into the house before it could get me.”

Ben steps a little further into the water and turns his back towards the ocean and sticks his hands in his pockets, “I hope you got him back,” he laughs.

“I actually haven’t yet. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hmm. I’ll see if I can come up with anything to help you out.”

“Is there a way we could send him something?”

He smiles at me, “definitely. What did you have in mind? Something he’s scared of?”

I think about to a time where I could have done something to piss him off, or a time when he ran out of the room because there was something he disliked in it, I remember back to the perfect time, “he really hates pine cones.”

“Pine cones?” you could hear the amusement in his voice, “what had a few fall on him as a kid? Couldn’t stand the trauma?”

I laugh thinking about Adrian, “I actually don’t know why, but I threw one at him and he just got all weird. He said something about them not being ‘natural’” I put in air quotes.

Ben snorts again, “they come from trees, how much more natural can you get?”

“He’s a weird kid but I still love him,” I shake my head laughing.

We just continue to stand in the water, Ben asks if I was the mom friend of my little friend group and I just laugh but then he remembers my little comment on my partying and decides to take back what he had said.

“Then what friend are you?” he asks.

“I’m the type of friend that will get my friends out and go do something. I like adventures and going places. But I’m also the friend who will curl up under a blanket and watch movies forever. What about you?”

“According to Wyatt, I’m the clueless friend,” he rolls his eyes at that, “he’s only half right, because I tend to stay at home working or doing something ‘boring’, but I’m sort of the same way, I like going out and doing stuff but people have to try to get me out first. And I don’t mind staying at home, not doing much.”

“If you ever need a going out or staying in buddy,” I nudge his shoulder with my own, “I got you.”

He nudges me back, “thanks, Larsen.”

“No problem, handsome,” I say in reference to the hat.

He taps the brim of the hat with a laugh, “handsome is right.”

I take the glasses from off his head and put them on my own, “I’m the whole look.”

He smiles widely, “you wear them a whole lot better than I do.”

I pose in such an awkward way, “I know.”

He chuckles, “let’s get you back to the palace and really show off the look.”

“The girls are going to be so jealous, also I’m not going to get embarrassed this time.” I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of him again.

“You shouldn’t because you’re with handsome,” he smirks and takes hold of my hand again walking us back on the path we took there. We make it back to my room just fine, we’re standing outside my room.

I take off my hat and put it on him, struggling a bit because he’s taller than me, “now you’re with handsome.”

He grins, “I’d probably use a different word,” he taps the palm trees on the glasses I’m still wearing, but I don’t even notice because I’m trying to figure out what he meant by the ‘different word’ thing. “Try not to get too crazy until next time we see each other, alright?”

“I’ll try…”

He switches our special accessories so they now belong to their proper owners, “you’ll succeed. Especially with that hat.”

I point to his glass that are lying on the very edge of his nose, “wear those to your next meeting.”

“That’ll really convince my advisors I’m ready to be kind soon,” he chuckles, “I’ll see you around, Larsen.”

I open my bedroom door that’s behind me, “see you later,” he smiles and waves once and walks away. I walk into my room and close the door behind me, take off the hat and admire it. I’m with handsome I’m really here.

[annzybwrites]

“Reading Together” Ch. 1: First Day Reading

Fandom: Teen Titans Summary: Beast Boy and Raven found something they both enjoy doing - reading books to children.  Rating: T Pairing: BBRae, some Robstar

---------------------

It’s not that Beast Boy didn’t enjoy reading. He loved to read comic books, manga, and webcomics! It wasn’t his fault that staring at a page full of nothing but text gave him a headache. He even tried listening to audiobooks like Raven suggested, but the soothing voice of the narrator often ended up putting him to sleep rather than enticing him to want to keep listening to the story.

This didn’t really bother him. A lot of people didn’t like to read books, in fact he’d go so far as to say he was in the majority.

Something that Beast Boy did enjoy doing was volunteering. It started out when Cyborg told them he was going to be helping out with repairs at a homeless shelter. Starfire had liked the idea of helping out the people of Jump City so much that she and Robin started researching other volunteer opportunities, and within a few days they had presented a variety of options to the rest of the team to choose from if they wanted. It ranged to everything from picking up trash on the streets to helping build homes, and Beast Boy’s favorite activities by far were helping out at animal shelters (for obvious reasons), and helping out with fundraising activities. Not only could he be as loud as he wanted to bring attention to the fundraiser, whether it be selling cookies, being duck-taped to a wall*, or planting flowers, but he was also helping raise money for worthy causes. That wasn’t to say he didn’t try his hand at a few other volunteer activities, too, but his favorite was definitely fundraising.

There was one volunteer activity that he usually shied away from, but… well, he couldn’t get away from it forever.

“Is anyone coming with me to read to the kids today?”

It was a simple enough question that Raven posed to Robin while they were all seated in the common room watching TV. It was also enough to make Beast Boy sink down into his seat.

“Actually,” Robin sat up a little, turning to fix his masked gaze onto the boy trying to hide away. “I was thinking Beast Boy should go.”

“Why?” He groaned, sitting up fully to pout at their leader.

“Because some people are starting to think you’re illiterate.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous!” Beast Boy argued. “I read comic books in public!”

“Come on, BB,” Cyborg nudged him with his elbow. “Reading to children is easy - it’s mostly pictures anyway.”

“You can just do the voices,” Raven told him. “I’ll be the narrator.”

“Oh, yes!” Starfire piped up, clapping her hands together by her head. “Being the voices are so much fun! You can make the children smile and giggle and jump up and down!”

“...” Beast Boy had to admit, that sounded appealing.

“Just one time won’t kill you,” Cyborg teased.

“All right, I’ll go,” Beast Boy relented, turning to grin at Raven. “If only because I can’t see you doing voices.”

Raven’s eyes were slightly bigger, as if something had just surprised her. “I tried doing them once. I’m just… not that good at it.”

So that was why someone always went to the library with her to help read. He had wondered about that.

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

“What is that?!” Beast Boy’s mouth fell open at the sight of a very peculiar advertisement hanging on the library’s front billboard. Among all of the brightly colored posters displaying all of the activities they had going on the public library, there was one slightly darker poster in the center with a very simple message:

Reading expands your mind.

That wasn’t the interesting part, no. The interesting part was that the picture above the words was of Raven in her meditating stance, except she was holding a book while a circle of other books floated around her. The library’s logo was in the corner.

“What?” Raven couldn’t hide her small smile. “I’m already a mascot for gum. Might as well be a mascot for the Jump City library.”

“Wait, you’re a mascot for gum, too?!”

Raven shook her head. “Yes. We need to get going.”

“Don’t avoid this conversation!” Beast Boy pouted. “When did you even have this picture taken?”

“We really need to get going.”

Beast Boy knew what she was going to add to that sentence from the look in her eyes. “Don’t you -”

“Garfield.”

Beast Boy’s groan filled the room. Good thing they weren’t actually in the library yet - just the space before the library. “One of these days I won’t care if you call me that.”

“Luckily for me, today is not that day.” She turned and floated off into the library, leading them to the children’s section. And by section, he basically means an entire wing dedicated to rows and rows of children’s books and wide-open, comfortable spaces for reading, as well as a few play areas.

“Hello, Raven!” A peppy, motherly-looking woman greeted them at the entrance of the wing with an excited whisper, eagerly shaking her hand. She wore a dark red polo-shirt and khaki pants. “The kids are all so excited you’ll be reading today!”

“I’m glad.” She smiled softly. “Is Sarah here?”

“Yes!” the woman chuckled and put her hands on her hips. “She’s really enjoying the Katie Kazoo books you suggested.”

“Katie Kazoo?” Beast Boy questioned.

“Oh!” The woman turned to him now, smiling wider but not answering his question. “Beast Boy’s joining us today? Jax will be excited!”

“I’m counting on it.” Raven sounded just a bit too mischievous for his liking. “Well, shall we get started?”

“Right this way!” The woman turned around and started leading them further into the children’s section of the library.

“That’s Ms. Dimple,” Raven whispered to her teammate. “She runs most of the reading programs here.”

“She seems nice.”

“She is.”

“So what’s this about Jax?”

Raven grinned a little. “Let’s just say he loves animals. Especially one particular kind of animal.”

“Which one?” He really wanted to meet Jax now. He loved talking with any animal enthusiasts, no matter their age.

“Let’s see if you can guess when you see him.”

They were lead into a fairly large room that contained three tables with plenty of chairs on one half and a large circle rug with two chairs on the other half. In the middle was a bookshelf, a toy box, and a costume box, and there were already at least ten children inside the room. A few were working on a puzzle, a few were reading, and others were playing pretend with whatever costumes they found. Right now it seemed to be a princess fighting a viking? Pretty cool.

Beast Boy’s ears pricked towards the sound of a particularly loud gasp, and before he knew it he was being hugged by small kid with short, dark hair. “Beast Boy!!” the kid exclaimed, looking up at him with the biggest, melt-your-heart smile he had ever seen.

“Hey!” Upon closer inspection, BB noticed the kid was wearing a dark green shirt and pants that had little turtles all over it. “You must be Jax.”

The kid nodded, just looking up at him with those wide, sparkling eyes.

“Let me guess - you like turtles?”

“Mmhm!” Jax’s already bright face got even more blindingly happy at the mention of his favorite animal.

Beast Boy didn’t wait any longer - he morphed into a turtle and smiled inwardly as he felt Jax hug him tight.

“Turtle!!” He ran right up to Raven and Ms. Dimple then, displaying the too-green turtle to them as if they hadn’t just witnessed the whole thing.

Ms. Dimple laughed and shook her head fondly, while Raven just smiled. “Be careful not to hug it too tight, Jax!”

“I won’t, Ms. Dimple!” Jax chirped before going back to hugging Beast Boy and looking like the happiest kid on the planet.

The changeling started to realize that maybe morphing wasn’t the best idea, as another kid ran up to Jax and demanded Beast Boy turn into a rabbit. Then another kid requested he turn into a puppy, and another wanted a goldfish, and another wanted a parakeet, and then they all started shouting out the names of animals they knew until Ms. Dimple clapped her hands.

“Okay, kids! We need to let Beast Boy and Raven look over the books they’re going to read for you today, all right? So let the… mongoose go!”

The green mongoose was very grateful and scurried over next to Raven before turning back into his more human form, panting slightly. He forgot how exhausting a big group of kids could be.

“You’re an instant hit,” Raven teased him quietly as they walked over to the bookshelf.

“What can I say?” He grinned back. “Everybody loves me.”

Raven rolled her eyes, but he could tell she wasn’t actually annoyed. “We’re supposed to read these two today.” She showed him the thin books, Blueberries for Sal and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.

“What?” Beast Boy laughed as he grabbed the second book, wondering what the heck it was about. Raven must not have known either, as she looked over his shoulder to see what was written there. It was about the letters of the alphabet climbing up a coconut tree, and Beast Boy could already feel the natural rhythm of the words as it was all one, giant, fun poem. “I think I can handle this one by myself.”

“Good,” Raven nodded. “Because I really didn’t want to say “skit skat skoodle doot.””

Beast Boy’s laughter gained the attention of literally everyone in the room, causing Raven’s cheeks to color softly.

“What’s so funny?!”

“S-say it again??” Beast Boy was still laughing.

“No way.” Raven glared before floating over to one of the chairs in front of the circle rug. “Now come here.”

Beast Boy still snickered as he bounded over, perching himself on the seat next to her with a grin.

“We want the kids to be able to see the pictures,” Raven told him, opening the book and holding it up near the side of her face so that the pages would face the audience. “So we hold it like this. It makes it a little more difficult to read, but not much.”

“Uh…” Beast Boy copied her, holding it up near the side of his face and squinting at the words. The light obscured some letters, but if he just moved it a little it was fine. “Okay, got it.”

“When you first start, say the title as well as who wrote the book.”

“Makes sense.”

“Be sure to read it slow.”

“Like I’m in a play?”

“Exactly. After we’re done reading,” she pointed over to the tables, “we’ll have a little craft to go along with one of the books. Ms. Dimple runs that, but we can help the smaller kids. Then it’s free time.”

“Huh.” Beast Boy looked out at everything. “Maybe I’d enjoy reading if I went to stuff like this as a kid.”

Raven didn’t know what to say to that, so she just continued in her explanation. “Er… Don’t be afraid if you mess up. Even I fumble a word sometimes.”

“Oh really?” Beast Boy turned to grin at her. “I’d love to see that.”

She rolled her eyes again before turning to skim through her own book. “Beast Boy?”

“Yeah?”

“You can talk while in your animal forms, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, this story involves talking bears.”

Beast Boy just stared at her for a moment. “... You want me to turn into a bear to read the story?”

“Just the dialogue that the bears say. I think it would get the little ones even more involved.”

He laughed and looked out at the kids, who were still busy with whatever they had been doing before his little animal show. “Sure, why not?”

“Thanks.” She looked up to catch Ms. Dimple’s eyes, causing the older woman to clap her hands and gain the children’s attention.

“All right kids, our readers are ready! Let’s all sit on the reading rug!”

Some kids cheered as they quickly headed over to sit cross-legged on the rug, looking up at the two superheroes in anticipation. One little girl ran right up to Raven and gave her a hug, much to Beast Boy’s surprise. “Do you have more book recommendations, Raven?” she asked.

“I’ll find something for you later, I promise,” Raven chuckled and pointed at the rug. “Go sit down, okay?”

“Kay!” She took a seat relatively close to the empath, beaming up at her.

“That’s Sarah,” Raven whispered to Beast Boy, as if that explained everything. “She reads the Katie Kazoo books?”

“Yeah, I still have no idea what those are,” he deadpanned.

Before Raven could say anything else, Ms Dimple appeared next to Beast Boy and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s have our newest volunteer read first!”

“Oh, right!” Beast Boy cleared his throat and held up the book so the kids could see the cover. “So, uh, I’ll be reading Chicka Chicka Boom Boom for you all,” he silently commended himself for not laughing while reading the title, but he did smile a bit wider. “Written by Bill Martin Jr and John Archambault.” He really hoped he didn’t butcher that pronunciation. He cleared his throat and opened the book up, holding it to the side of his head like Raven instructed.

He had to admit, he was a little impressed with how quiet the kids were while he read, but occasionally a few of them would giggle just from the way the words sounded. He tried his best to read slowly, but due to the rhyming nature of the book he noticed himself wanting to pick up speed. God, reading slowly felt so awkward, or maybe he was just nervous?

Either way, he felt like he was done reading the book all too soon, and Ms. Dimple lead the kids into clapping for him. “Thank you, Beast Boy!” She put her hands on her knees, leaning forward to address the kids with an excited voice. “Now, who all here knows their alphabet?”

The older kids, of course, all raised their hands, but some of the younger ones looked like they had to think about it for a moment. That was enough for Ms. Dimple to chuckle and say, “How about we all sing the alphabet slowly before getting to our next book, okay?”

Beast Boy turned to give Raven an “is she serious?” look, to which she just nodded before singing the alphabet along with Ms. Dimple. So, of course, he felt compelled to join in as well. He looked out at all the kids, smiling when their expressions ranged from bored to confused to happy as they sang with. They all seemed used to joining in on chants and songs at the drop of a hat.

Once they were done, Ms. Dimple clapped so loud that Beast Boy jumped. “All right! Onto the second book!”

Raven nodded and held up her book. “I'll be reading Blueberries for Sal, by Robert McCloskey.” She opened to the first page and held it between her and Beast Boy so he could see it a bit better.

When she started to read, Beast Boy could feel how still and attentive everyone became, and he could understand why. There was this undertone of pure passion as Raven read, and it drew in everyone who listened. Even though her voice didn’t usually betray much emotion, Beast Boy was very attuned to listening to her emotions through her subtle tonal changes, and he had a feeling the children were equally adapted - kids tended to have that ability. Plus, he swore her eyes were sparkling with enjoyment. She really just had an appreciation for the written word, even in a story as simple as a children’s book.

He almost missed his cue to come in. Almost, because he could never miss those dark, violet irises looking up to meet his gaze. He jolted a bit before quickly turning into a bear and enjoying the delighted gasps of the children before he read his line as “Little Bear’s Mother” - which of course meant he tried to do a high pitched voice.

“Little Bear -”

“She said,” Raven cut in, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile from his ridiculous voice.

“- eat lots of berries and grow big and fat.” He put his paws on his stomach to emphasize his point. “We must store up food for the long, cold winter.”

The story continued on after that, and Beast Boy decided that as long as he was already morphed into a bear he might as well try and act out what’s happening in the pictures. The next part of the story was about Little Bear (and a little human kid named Sal) eating blueberries from the bushes, so he mosied on over next to the children and pretended they were his blueberry bushes, though he kept his fingers pointed towards his palms as he “picked berries” so he wouldn’t accidentally claw anyone. He kept it up as the kids kept giggling and looking over at him with big smiles.

It was official, he was glad he came.

Apparently the main part of the story was about little Sal the human and Little Bear getting mixed up and following each others’ moms for awhile as they all picked blueberries off of blueberry hill. Beast Boy had to admit some lines were really funny, though he didn’t really understand the message of the book. Weren’t all children’s books supposed to have meanings or morals or at least teach you something? Maybe this one was just about making sure you stay close to your parents so you don’t get lost? Well, whatever it was about, he didn’t really have that many lines as either bear character, which allowed him to just pretend he was climbing up and down blueberry hill (or random chairs throughout the room) eating blueberries all the way.

When “the end” was finally said, the children all clapped politely again and Beast Boy padded back over to his seat to change back into his more human form. He glanced over at Raven, his grin widening when he saw her smiling. At him, not just in general, but right at him, with eye contact and everything. Getting someone elusive like Raven to smile at you was like winning a first-place trophy. That was why his heart was racing, because he felt like a winner! And that was also why he wanted to keep staring at her; he just wanted to enjoy his prize a bit more.

“All right kids,” Ms. Dimple started speaking again, so Beast Boy tore his gaze over to her. “What did you all think of this book?”

One kid rose her hand, and when she was called on she stood up, her childish voice stumbling out, “Um…” she played with the edge of her skirt, distracted. “I liked how - how the momma bear didn’t hurt Sal.”

“Yes, that was very nice, wasn’t it?” Ms. Dimple agreed. “And how Sal’s mother didn’t hurt Little Bear.”

The little girl nodded and sat back down. A few other kids were called on, talking about what they liked or found funny, or saying they liked watching Beast Boy act like a real bear. He felt mighty proud every time a little kid said they liked his act; he almost wanted to shift back into a bear, but he didn't want to interrupt the little discussion.  

Soon enough they were moving onto the craft portion. The main craft involved flat foam pieces and glue that would eventually form a 2D bucket full of blueberries if they glued the foam down correctly, but there were coloring pages of blueberry bushes offered as an alternate if a child didn’t want to work with glue or just prefered coloring better.

Beast Boy kind of wished he could build his own craft, but knew his place was to help the kids make their own. In fact, very soon he found himself in the middle of helping three kids build their foam buckets at the same time. This was obviously the perfect opportunity to show off, so he tried to juggle the foam pieces a little and twirl the little glue stick between his fingers, the latter of which resulted in a lot of glue getting stuck to his hands. Great, just his luck. He forced a nervous smile onto his face as he tried continuing to help the kids with their craft, but soon everything started sticking to his hands and he couldn’t get it off no matter how much shaking or pulling he did. He could feel himself blushing as the kids nearby began giggling at him, and he felt even more mortified when Raven started heading towards him. Of course the kids she had been helping were all done with their baskets and were free to go play dress up or read.

“I can help them,” she told him. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and get that glue off you?”

“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled, feeling even hotter as the kids started laughing louder at his retreating form. Was this his punishment for trying to look cool? He grumbled to himself as he scrubbed his hands in the bathroom sink, wishing he could go back to them thinking he was awesome. Turning into a few more animals should do the trick, right?

He smiled a little, thinking of how thrilled Jax would be if he turned into a turtle again. That kid had the brightest little eyes! He bet he knew everything about turtles you could possibly know. When he came back out of the bathroom, he started looking for his little animal buddy, laughing a bit when he saw him sitting near a wall and reading a book that was literally shaped like a turtle. The craft tables were pretty much abandoned as the kids all played with the toys or read, so Beast Boy felt he was at liberty to walk right up to Jax.

“Hey buddy,” he plopped down right next to the kid with an easy smile. “What’cha readin’?”

Jax’s eyes lit up as he thrust the book towards him. “Turtles!! Did you know that a turtle’s top shell is called a carapace?”

“No, I did not.” He had done his own research on turtles before, but since they were rarely useful in battle he hadn’t committed much about them to memory like Jax apparently has.

“Yeah!” Jax continued, bouncing a little, “And the bottom one is called a plastron!!”

“That’s really neat,” Beast Boy laughed. God he loved how excited kids got about pretty much everything. “What else do you know about turtles?”

Jax started rambling on, talking about how turtles are born with their shells or that they’ve been around for 215 million years, and telling stories about turtles he’s seen (his favorites were the ones with the red and black underbellies) or how he and his dad always helped escort turtles across the road so they didn’t get run over.

By the end of it, Beast Boy was smiling fondly and ruffling Jax’s hair. “I bet turtles love you just as much as you love them.”

Jax’s wide smile made Beast Boy feel like the best man in the world. Soon he was being hugged by the little guy as he exclaimed, “I’m happy Raven finally brought you!!”

“Finally?” Beast Boy replied, a little confused. Had he been asking about him for a long time? This was the first he’s heard of it! He lifted his head to look for his teammate, a little surprised to see her sitting down with a little girl in her lap. Though as he saw her pointing to the pages and having the little child read them, he realized she was helping teach her to read. He found himself smiling, not finding such a sight so surprising anymore. Ever since Raven’s little escort mission with Melvin, Timmy, and Teether, she had actually started taking a real liking to kids. It still surprised him to see her so comfortable with them though, especially when she had seemed so clueless about children before.

“Can you turn into a turtle again?” Jax asked, looking up at him hopefully.

“Uh…” he hesitated, not wanting a repeat of before. “Ask me again before you leave, okay?”

“Okay!” Jax seemed content with this and sat back down, picking up his book again and resuming where he had read before. Beast Boy took that as his opportunity to go over and talk to Raven about his “finally” comment, but soon he was stopped by a little boy tugging at his hand.

“Play pretend with us!!”

“Be my knight!” a little girl added, grabbing his other hand and pulling him towards her.

“No! He needs to be a pirate!”

“No, wait! He should be my prince!!”

“Woah!” Beast Boy interrupted, laughing. “Uh, how about I’m a pirate prince?”

The two small children thought over his proposal, looking over at each other thoughtfully. They both started nodding before going to grab him a pirate hat and a plastic sword from the dress-up box. “Pirate prince!!”

Soon, he was dragged into their pretend world, where his backstory was made up on the spot. At first the little boy, named Charles, wanted him to be his pirate partner and help him steal the riches from the kingdom across the ocean, but the little girl, named Lola, wanted him to be a romantic prince like in Sleeping Beauty. That was the exact story example she gave before she went to lay down, evidently expecting Beast Boy to come save her from a sleeping curse.

“Don’t wake her up!” Charles insisted. “If she’s sleeping we can steal all of her gold!”

“Uh,” Beast Boy suddenly felt the need to tell this small child that stealing was wrong, even though Charles probably knew that and was just pretending. Was this what older adult daycare workers went through? The struggle to either play along with the kids or try and teach them lessons? “Well, I’m also a prince! And as a prince I have a duty to rescue princesses!”

“Awww!” Charles complained, but Beast Boy’s logic was sound enough. He let the changeling walk over to the girl and gently shake her awake.

“You have to wake me up with a kiss!” Lola argued, opening one eye to look at him with a knowing little smile.

Beast Boy tried desperately to think of a comeback to that, not wanting to ruin the game completely just yet, but thankfully Raven came to his rescue.

“Lola, Ms. Dimple has already talked with you about this,” she reminded the little girl, coming to squat beside her with a stern expression. “You can’t make boys kiss you during games.”

Lola pouted before sitting up. “The curse is lifted!” She ran over to begin “fighting” with Charles, trying to stop him from stealing her gold.

“Thanks,” Beast Boy breathed a sigh of relief as he and Raven stood up.

“You’re welcome. This isn’t the first time she’s pulled the Sleeping Beauty card.”

“Seriously?!” He laughed, watching the two pretenders “battle” it out. They mainly talked about how the battle would go, and pretended to throw punches and sat down quickly to emulate “falling.”  “Hope she grows out of that.”

“Mm.” Raven nodded, watching them with her more neutral expression.

“So,” Beast Boy grinned at her. “Jax said he was glad you finally brought me.”

“Did he?” Raven hummed. “What an interesting choice of words.”

He laughed shortly and shook his head. “Why didn’t you just tell me some little kid wanted to see me? I would have helped you read earlier.”

“Well,” Raven hesitated, looking off to the side. “To be honest, I was worried they might find out you don’t like reading, and that would make some of them stop.”

“Oh.” He felt a little guilty; that reasoning did make sense, but he wouldn’t just go around saying “reading sucks” or something to a bunch of kids in a library. Just because he didn't enjoy books didn't mean they shouldn't. Besides, not a lot of time was focused on solely reading - there was a lot more time for crafts and playing if they chose.

“Yeah.” Raven brushed some hair back behind her ear before looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. “But, you’re… having fun, right?”

“About as much fun as I could have in a library,” he joked, turning to give her an easy grin.

She huffed softly, looking away from him. “Enough to read with me every week?”

The proposal shocked him at first, mainly because he had never realized Raven went here every week. Then he wondered if he really did that good of a job reading - certainly Starfire made a better partner than him? She was the one who usually attended the reading sessions with Raven, or at least that’s what he thought. “You… really want me every week?”

“Yes.” Raven turned back to look at him, as serious as ever. “Most of the books feature animals anyway, plus… you have a nice singing voice.”

Beast Boy felt himself blush from the unexpected compliment. “What does that have to do with reading?”

“Ms. Dimple has been wanting to add a song and dance time to the little program here for awhile.” He immediately perked up, and Raven glanced away again. “You like dancing, too, right?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Language!”

“Right!” Beast Boy smiled sheepishly. “I mean, yes, I like dancing.”

Raven sighed softly. “I can talk with Ms. Dimple and she can send me some of the songs she was thinking about teaching the kids. If you really want to do this,” she added the last part hastily, realizing that Beast Boy had never actually agreed to her proposal.

“Hm…” He scratched at his chin, looking out at all the young, little, creative minds. “I mean… I guess it could be fun.”

“Is that a yes?”

Beast Boy started to feel a joyful warmth growing inside him. Raven actually sounded excited about this. She really did want him to help her with this every week. Him, she wanted him. He couldn’t recall a lot of times where someone wanted him specifically for anything. Even during missions he often times felt like his part could be done better by someone else, but not this time. This time he was being asked to do something because someone thought he was the best man for the job. How could he deny her when she was asking for him? “Yeah, I’ll do this with you.”

“Great.” Raven smiled, one of those tiny smiles that she probably didn’t even realize she had on. Beast Boy loved those smiles, and, actually, he realized that she wore those smiles a lot while in this environment.

As he looked out at all of these little faces happily reading, playing, and just having fun, and took note of how relaxed and open Raven was next to him, Beast Boy felt a joyful calm settle over him.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

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

*”being duck-taped to a wall” - basically a fundraiser that would involve Beast Boy standing on a chair against a wall and people buying duct tape for ~50 cents per yard to apply to him, thereby causing him to be stuck to the wall. They stop selling duct tape once the person stays on the wall without the use of a chair, and then they see how long they stay stuck there. Or maybe they don’t stop selling tape, who knows. I imagine they could get a lot of money to tape a superhero against a wall (and the other Titans would probably be around to make sure no villains would take advantage of it).

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Click here for author notes and links to readings of the books mentioned!

[artbysarah98]

Part 2 What the f*ck is going on?

When we're young...series

Masterlist

Part 1 An unexpected turn

A/N - I've never been on an airplane before and also have no idea how a flying works or an airport. So not everything may be accurate.

Ella

"Dear passengers, this is your captain speaking. We're a half-hour away from our destination Seoul, Korea. We are starting our descend to Incheon International Airport soon. So we would like you to fasten your seatbelts, please. We hope you enjoyed your flight with Korean Air, and we wish you a pleasant stay. Upon exiting the aircraft, please take all your belongings with you," announced the pilot over the intercom first in Korean. He repeated himself in English for international passengers like Ella. This alerted Ella to sit up straight in her seat and fasten her seatbelt.

She looked around her. As far as she could see, the other passengers were of Korean nationality or at least an Asian one. A few other people stood out because they looked closer to her citizenship. She felt a little bit out of place, being one of the only passengers with a different nationality. The man on her left was one of these passengers. A middle-aged baldheaded man, around 45 years old, yet a prominent black mustache. On top of his head were a pair of glasses.

'Those must be for reading. He hasn't worn them at all during the flight. I would have put them in my carry-on baggage to not lose them, but then again, I lose almost everything with how clumsy I am,' she thought while her eyes glided down to his expensive-looking suit, 'He looks like a businessman on his way to make a new deal. I wonder where he's going.'

The man looked very tired as if he hadn't slept in days. He looked like he could fall asleep any second. He nodded his head as he started to doze off. However, a sudden gust of air caused some turbulence shaking the plane. This caused the man to straighten up, looking around for what was happening. Ella saw his eyes also falling on her. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds before she decided that this interaction became too awkward.

Ella looked over to her right shoulder. On a row behind her sat a young girl with long blond hair braided into one thick braid. The end of this braid rested on her left shoulder. Ella's eyes fell on the hair tie that held it in place. The color of it was red and had a red heart charm with a silly face on it. A smile crept on Ella's face, 'That looks cute. I wonder where she got it. Maybe I should ask her? No, that would be awkward.'

The girl looked around her age, maybe a little longer 16 or 17 perhaps. Ella saw the girl happily swaying her head along to the music she was listening to on her earbuds. She was also singing along to the music, but Ella couldn't understand what the lyrics were aside from some English words that clearly had something to do with the main title. Ella had a feeling that the chorus was playing again as the words 'Fake Love' started falling from the girl's lips once more.

The girl was wearing a shirt of some group Asain looking men called BTS, as that was the name plastered onto it in huge letters together with a logo that looked like doors being pushed open, and a pair of bleached shorts. Ella had no idea who or what BTS was, but she wanted to find out. Maybe that had to do with the strict rules the Young Boarding School had on the use of mobiles and the internet. Those rules always caused her to missed new things becoming popular. That included celebrities like this BTS probably was, or else, their faces wouldn't be on a shirt. Her curiosity being ignited caused her to grab her phone, a Samsung Galaxy S7, maybe not the latest edition, but sufficed its primary job.

'I lived under a rock,' thought Ella as the hits with articles related to this BTS group started showing up, 'These guys have millions of fans, apparently called ARMY, won multiple awards. They performed during the AMAs in 2017, making history for other K-Pop idols and K-pop music industry and yet I still managed to miss all of this somehow. Mom, Dad, why are your rules so strict?'

Now updated on who they are in general after reading some articles, she still didn't who was which member. Although she managed to learn the names, Ella still had to combine them with the right face. On top of that, she still had to discover what they sound like. Ella decided to look up their performance from the AMAs. The song was titled DNA. She plugged in her headphones and pressed play what she heard in the next 4 and a half minutes blew her away.

Their introduction was done by the Chainsmokers, and even they acknowledged the fact that called them international superstars was an understatement. The fans were chanting the name and screaming during the entire song. From the first note, until the very last, the boys did not lose her attention once. That meant a lot as Ella did not get into a different music taste smoothly, especially one she couldn't understand the language off. There was just something magical about the performance. The one with the silver-brownish hair gained her attention the most. Something kept telling her to keep looking at him.

'How have I never seen or heard anything about BTS before?' Ella thought in amazement, 'Let's save it in my favorite songs for now, and then I can look up more songs later.'

Ella put her earbuds away as she decided to look up some more about BTS. She ended up on the website from BigHit Entertainment, the agency BTS was signed under and clicked on the menu. This showed not only BTS but two other acts licensed under BigHit, TOMORROW X TOGETHER, and LEE HYUN. She was tempted to click on TOMORROW X TOGETHER, but clicked on BTS and then profile since that is what she originally came for. Ella quickly learned that BTS consists out of 7 men; Jin, Jimin, Suga, j-hope, Jung Kook, V, and RM, RM being the leader of the band. She managed to combine V to the man with the silver-brownish hair from the performance video that attracted her to him but wasn't any closer to learning which faces belonged to which of the remaining members. Despite that, she learned more about BTS. Ella noticed that she was being drawn in by the beauty of all the members and shook her head.

'Okay, this is enough BTS for now, and this is not beneficial for my phone's percentage,' thought Ella, 'I guess this is how it starts. You look up one thing about them and want to know more and more as if you're pulled in by a magnet.' She put her phone back in her pocket.

For the remaining time of the landing, Ella decided to take in some more of the passengers. Her awareness settled quickly on a Korean looking man to her right on the other side of the aisle. The man was wearing a black hoodie, dressed warmly for the time of year as Ella looked down at the green spaghetti top before looking back, and a black mouth mask covering almost his entire face except for his eyes and a few blonde locks peeking out underneath his hoodie. Ella couldn't quite see what his eye color was, but something about him attracted her to keep looking. The man looked a little older than her, maybe 25 or 26 years old. He was in a lively conversation with a man just a captivating a he was. His talking partner wore a plain black shirt, a white Nike cap, and a red mouth mask covering his entire face, just like the man with the black hoodie. A little of his blonde-brownish hair could be seen from underneath his cap.

Suddenly the man with the black hoodie turned his head looking around for a bit before he looked straight at her. Their eyes locked for a few seconds. Ella's face flushed crimson and quickly turned her head away. 'Om my god, this is so embarrassing. He caught me observing him,' Ella thought, 'At least I finally know what his eye color is.' Those eyes are probably one of the darkest she has ever seen. They are such dark shade of grey that they almost look black. Ella looked outside of the airplane window or at least tried to and noticed that they started their descend.

Baron

Baron and his bandmates from VAV are on their way back to Korea. They had just wrapped up a music video in the Phillippines. Their new music video 'Give Me More' is going to be released on July 23. This is the first time they made a music video featuring a different artist since their debut.

For this collaboration, they attracted the attention of a Latin American artist. For 'Give Me More' the band worked together with De La Ghetto and Play-N-Skillz. He hopes that their fanbase VAMPZ is going to be as enthusiastic as he is about their new song. He loved the more exotic vibe that was going on in the music video. Baron and his bandmate ACE are in an animated conversation talking about their new mv and what the reactions of the VAMPZ are going to be.

ACE said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I can't wait until we can tell the VAMPZ about our new mv. I'm so excited that I want the release date to be sooner."

"Me too," Baron responded with a smile gracing his hidden lips, "I think this mv will be received very well by VAMPZ, but we can't say anything about the mv yet. A Team will not be happy if you spill something, ACE."

"I know, Baron, but I still can't wait," ACE said, suddenly he noticed the girl on the other side of the aisle looking at them or specifically at Baron, "Uhh, Baron, I think someone is staring at you," nudging his head to someone on Baron's left side.

Baron turned his head in the direction that ACE pointed out. He searched for the person ACE was talking about. His eyes landed on a girl directly on the other side of the aisle. He looked straight in her eyes. The eyes he met were big bright blue-greyish, and for about 15 seconds, they looked at each other. The girl then turned crimson and quickly turned her head away. Now Baron couldn't look away from her. Her beauty, drawing him in, wavy shoulder-length brown hair with blonde outgrowth, a little bit of lipgloss on her lips, her different nationality, and of course, the bright blue-greyish eyes that he couldn't get off his mind. The way that they held a sadness despite looking very lively intrigued him. He was glad he was wearing a mouth mask, or else the girl and ACE probably would have seen him turn crimson too. ACE tapped on his shoulder made Baron cut off his stare.

"You're doing the same thing as that she did. I can see she is beautiful too, but you probably won't see her again after the flight, and on top of that, you haven't even spoken one word to her yet. Not during the entire flight or just now when you crossed eyes. I would relax now if I were you. We're going to reach the terminal soon," said ACE. Baron looked one more time at the girl and did just that knowing what ACE was probably correct.

Ella

Ella nervously peeked to her right and left out a relieved sigh, 'He isn't looking at me anymore.'

She decided to put her thoughts somewhere else when she felt a strong urge pull on her. It was her bloodthirst, one of the downsides to being a vampire, or partly vampire, in the way she saw it. No matter how much she drank, she was never truly satiated. Ella let out a frustrated grunt placing her hands on her stomach, 'I fed before the flight. This flight is taking too long. Why do I have to be on this plane for 10 entire hours?! Guess I have to find a new person to feed form when I have found a place to stay for the night.'

Bloodthirst feels the same way as hunger feels to a human. It's an urge to get something in there and gets more demanding the longer you wait. It slowly eats you up on the inside until you give in to it. Sometimes this can result in brutal massacres caused by one vampire. Ella tried to calm herself and ignore her hunger. The fact that she was on a plane with over 100 blood pumping hearts wasn't making that any less hard. She was glad that the aircraft was lining up at the terminal entrance and that the doors were going to open soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ella was finally of the plane. She was now on her way to the exit of the terminal. Her desire teased her the entire time that Ella stood in the row to exit the plane. Even now, the sound of thumping hearts that seemed to increase by thousandfold as she got closer to the terminal exit. Ella saw her blue suitcase labeled with her name in red letters passing by on the baggage claim and took it off.

Packed with all her belongings, she made her way to the terminal exit. The moment the doors of the terminal opened, Ella was met with a sea of people. Paparazzi with their camera's at the ready and very excited looking girls. Most of them were wearing mouth masks, and many girls were holding signs with Korean phrases, Ella couldn't understand, and weird names.

'This explains why the sound of heartbeats increased so much. It doesn't explain, however, what is going on here. What do those signs say?' thought Ella as she felt confused, but panicked at the same time. Her PTSD started kicking in by the screaming and amount of people. Ella tried to calm herself down as she looked at the signs, 'Those names are so weird. Are that Korean names or stages names like the members of BTS also have? Can you even call those words names? I don't know. Whatever the signs say to me, it looks like a children's drawing with all those strange symbols.'

Ella had never seen anything like this before. Experiencing this unknown feeling increased her bloodthirst and sped up her breathing. For a second, her eyes flashed golden as she felt trapped. She knew people often had family waiting for them at the terminal, but this was insane. Her hunger for blood almost took the better of her at that moment, but she managed to hold back. Seeing that the crowd wasn't going to part any time soon, she let out a sigh as she needed to get away from that place. So in complete conflict with what her therapists always told her, Ella ignored her PTSD. Otherwise, she would really attack somebody out of hunger combined with panic and a flinch of frustration. No other option left Ella started pushing her way through, but that wasn't easy seeing that they weren't, exactly, cooperative in letting her through. She took a moment to catch her breath, something she rarely needed to do as a hybrid and looked around, seeing that she was not the only one having trouble with this. Ella sighed and continued her way through the sea of people.

As Ella struggled to get through the sea of people, the crowd suddenly got even more lively. Cameras were flashing, and girls started screaming.

"Ayno." "Ziu." "Please marry me, ACE!" "Baron-Oppa, please notice me!" "VAV!" Though looking men in black suits started separating the sea of people so that the group of men called VAV could pass. This resulted in her being pushed out of the way roughly by one of the men in black. Ella was getting kinda pissed. Her pupils dilated, and veins started to show underneath her eyes. Realizing that her face was showed its true colors, Ella tried calming herself down. Her expression morphed back to her normal one. She waited for the so-called VAV to pass. One by one, seven men with bodyguards passed by, but she recognized one of them. It was the man who sat on to her right on the other side of the aisle. By the shocking impression on his face, it looked like he recognized her too. He almost stopped in his tracks, but a bodyguard ushered him to keep walking. He passed her but looked back at her one more time before leaving her eyesight. The crowd of people started to drip away following VAV giving Ella a chance to breathe and calm down.

'What the f*ck just happened? Who is that man who sat on the other side of the aisle?' thought Ella, 'Well, it doesn't matter for now. I need to find a place to feed before I attack somebody at the airport.'

Part 3 A encounter that she didn't see coming

[welove-nms]

The Last Cup

    Kouhai could still remember the day she stepped in the cafe again after some years of leaving it. It was the same day she nearly cried.   Memories hit her like a heavy truck when she walked up the steps of the old cafe. One covered in cobwebs and dead leafs. Running her shoes across the old welcome mat. The same one that was losing a bit of it’s color. Due to the rain and shine of some days.    The memory of that one time when she was six and nearly screamed for joy when her grandmother told her that one day she would own the shop played in her head. Like how in the movie “Outside to the Inside”, where the emotions played memories in their headquarters. Looking back at it, the little six year old couldn’t wait to make her own new recipes to add to the “Big Book of Cooking.”    A book started by her great-great grandmother. Who started writing the beginning of the now very large book when she was around 16. When she worked in her grandfather’s old restaurant.     Kouhai could still remembered all her grandmother’s sweet words as they baked together. Each being a new trick and/or reason why they added what and not that. Her favorite cooking secret was the one her grandmother used when she couldn’t justify her reasoning with facts. Like the one saying that went, “The secret is a extra jar of love and butter. Butter is good for the soul and love is good for the heart. That and butter is nice to have in any recipe.”   Kouhai at the time didn’t know what to think. Her aunts would have die if their popcorn had any butter, while here her grandmother would add a whole stick to the batch of cookies.    Another big moment was when Kouhai finished middle school. Taking place in the back, where the garden stood. Picking the tea leafs they grew with love and care.   Her grandmother listened closely to her granddaughter’s worries on starting high school. Things about her now old friends and the idea of no one liking her. Not wanting to start over or be struck with no friends by the end of the first week or even the first semester. Her grandmother laughed at that idea, but kept listening to her til she was done.   It was the same moment where she slipped something in her hand. Holding it close before she said to her.

   “Kept this close to you, dear. Since it may be the last of me later in the future.” Kouhai was confused. She wasn’t really sure what her grandmother meant by that. She then slowly turned over her hand to see a key placed in her palm. One that was decorated with a chipped coat of light blue paint.     Kouhai denied the school’s help to remodeling the cafe. Telling herself she would do it on her own much like her grandmother did.    She painted the walls a new coat of color. Smiling brightly to see the cafe without the plastic covers. Used to over the counters and furniture. Cleaning and fixing up the old coffee maker before she moved the tables and chairs around. It took a month to do all the work by herself. There was a high chance that it would have been done in a week or so with help of others. Yet. Kouhai still was proud with the fact it was all done with her hands. Hands that were now covered in a bit of paint, with the scent of Windex.     Now that she was done decorating, all was left was the cooking. Trading her dirty cleaning rags for a cooking apron. Keeping her high hopes for the small cafe. One she can call hers now.   Kouhai played with the collar of her uniform. Her work uniform rather than her school one. The school had finally came in to make her one. Meaning she wouldn’t need her old pink dress and matching apron.   The uniform was made of a white loose collar shirt under a blue shirt. The school logo sewed to the side of it. The classic red tie was wrapped around her neck. A much longer skirt going a bit below the knees. Covered with a tight apron that went down to her lower half.    Her wet hands brushing on the apron as her sneakers hit the floor. Rushing orders out while her shoes squeaked with every harsh turn. It was the last week of school and all the teachers were playing a movie or letting the students do whatever they wanted for the period.    Which consisted of being on their phone or talking to one another. Kouhai took this time to work in the cafe. Also help with the Graduating Ceremony.    But, it didn’t feel right.    The idea of people leaving.    It didn’t sit well with Kouhai, but she ignored it. Like if it wouldn’t come. Yet, she was there. Racing across the hallways to beat the bell. Getting there with 10 minutes left.    Telling herself she had time to walk if she wanted. Sighing just as she pushed the door open. A door that stood under a sign that read,  

“3-C”     There Yuu laughed as Hinata and Ai threw paper at each other. Quickly turned his attention to the door. Hearing the click of it opening. There, he was the first to notice the cafe girl.    “H-Hey Kouhai,” He greeted. Not noticing that Wakatoshi just threw a crushed paper ball to his head.   Kyouya-sensei looked up from his desk. His purple glasses on the edge of his nose. Pushing them back as his pen fell out of his hand.    “Oh.”    “Good evening, Kouhai.” Kyouya greeted, being a bit confused why she was in his classroom. He didn’t remember any orders that were placed for him. That’s for sure. However he wasn’t complaining on the fact Kouhai was in his classroom.   “Ah, good afternoon Kyouya-sensei.” Kouhai bowed before explaining herself.    “Sorry to come here unannounced. I just had one last order to take care of.”   Kouhai beamed. Turning to the class. Which stood silent the moment Yuu pointed her out.       “Izumi,”    That’s when the classroom seem to die. The taps of feet hitting the floor and the clicks of pens on the desk were deleted out of the picture. The blond staring at the brunette with wide eyes. She said his name, right?       The schoolgirl smiled. Setting a hot takeaway cup on his desk. Next to the book he was reading before she came in. Nearly costing the nerd to lose his page. Kouhai nervously pick at the paper she had in her palm. Crushing the lower-right corner of the letter. Trying her best to rush her words. Wanting to get this over with. Since she felt a tight and deadly aura in the class. Eating her up slowly. “You were the first customer in my cafe and I thought-,” She paused. Feeling the darts being thrown at her direction. Not knowing that they weren’t for her, but their classmate that sat in front of her. Slowly getting redder by the second. “-I thought it would only be right, if I let you be the l-last order as well.”     Then was a moment of silence.     “T-thank you.”    It was the only words he could mustered up at the moment.    Kouhai gave a small smile before quickly turning her heel. Walking to Kyouya. Handing over the letter she picked at the whole time she was talking.    “Touru-kun had me deliver these to all the teachers. My guess is something about the Graduating Ceremony.” She softly whisper, trying not to let her voice crack. Kyouya nodded, taking the letter out of her hands.    The cafe owner quickly left after that. Putting a hand to her face while she rushed out. Closing the door with the other. Clicking when it met the doorlock. Izumi was then the target of the first round of crushed paper balls before Kyouya yelled at his class to cut it out.   Kouhai is the person that thinks change can be good for a person. Yet, she isn’t a person that change quite likes, really.    She can see the bright side of things, yet they always make her cry. They just another reason why she ran out of tears.    The young schoolgirl stayed for the Graduating Ceremony. She helped plan and send out tickets to families. So, why wouldn’t she watch? She worked hard for this moment to perfect for the students. Making it as grand as she could for the families there. Waiting and watching for their son/sons graduate.     The headmaster had handed the last diploma. The symphony of clapping hands boomed. Nearly everyone was cheering. Kouhai was still on the stage with the rest of the teachers and some of the staff members. Getting a clear view of the people she knew for the last two semesters. Seeing them move on to the next chapter of their life.   While she was still struck on her first word in her book.   That’s when her knees buckled. Crossing her hands over her face as tears came. Turning to sobs. Moving on to be an endless waterfall. One she had trouble stopping.    Luckily, Haruka was around. Giving what the doctor prescribed. A pack of tissues and a bear hug to make her feel better. Only to have him tear up a bit. Kouhai’s breathing slowed down. Blowing her nose a few times before her boys rushed over to hug her. Her boys that were now men going into the real world. Taking pictures and meeting parents. It was what she did for the next hour.    She smiled at Jéan and waved good-bye as they walked off. His mother invite her to their summerhouse over the break. Telling Kouhai she would love to talk more with her. As if she fell in love with the idea of the café girl spending time with her family. “You’re eyes are pretty puffy. Have you been crying?” Kouhai turned to see another blond.   “Ha,” she chuckled. Twirling her hair around her finger. “You’re the fourth one to said that exact same thing.”    Kouhai ran the back of her hand to the outer corner of her eye. Wiping the leakage as the day was slowly ending.    “Really?” Izumi questioned. “Damn, and here I thought about making a great entrance.” Izumi pouted. Making Kouhai laugh at his behavior.   “There’s that smile we all know and love.” Izumi cheered.    Smiling to himself while a light blush lighted up on his cheeks.     “Thanks. I needed that.” Kouhai twinkled. Spinning her right heel on the grass while she leaned her head to Izumi’s chest. Izumi wrapped his arms around the schoolgirl, trying to comfort her while the scent of sugar cookies and multiple perfumes surrounded her.      The scent of sugar cookies were from all the treats she made with Takeru’s mother for the party they’re having later in the day. The multiple perfumes had stained her dress with the fact she hugged so many people before the nerd came to talk with the café girl.      “I read what you wrote on my cup.” Izumi cheered, trying to change the subject. Thinking back to yesterday when he was hit with mountains of crushed paper from getting Kouhai’s last order.     It was green tea with a mix of honey, ginger, and lemons. The perfect blend of flavors in his eyes.     The same one he would miss in the summer. Maybe even the rest of his life.    “Oh,” Kouhai paused. Pushing away from Izumi’s chest to hear his words better.  “I thought that you wouldn’t notice it.” She sweetly chuckled.    “I even worried that you would toss the cup away and my writing would go unnoticed.” “Ha. Of course I saw it. I always haved. I live for the moments you write me small letters with my orders,” Izumi smiled. Holding her hands in his.    His smile then dropped a bit. Pulling her hands a little closer. Tighter as everything slowly sunk in.   “l mean, you write the occasional letters to everyone a-and th-” Izumi’s stutter came back. A sour tone in his head yelled at him to pace his words again. He was rushing for a excuse.     Nevertheless, his words were put on an stop. Kouhai apologized for interrupting him, but she just had to say it.     “Izumi,” She scolded.   Her eyes watering with every second passing. Killing Izumi with the thought of her crying in front of him.     “Don’t think that your letter is one out of a million others. It’s special. Much like you.”    She wrapped her arms around his waist. Holding him tighter with every word.    “Please don’t look down on yourself. You always wrote the most interesting, amazing, beautiful, heartfelt and let’s not forget, silly writing I have ever read.” She went on about how he told the best scary stories. Able to get anyone hooked on a story without knowing much about it. The way he always ordered a cup of tea depending on his mood. How he let her borrow his books. Handing them to her in a order of the date they were published.    Kouhai went over everything she could think of. Everything that made Izumi stand out from other bookworms that came in her cafe. Telling him she is so glad that Izumi was not only her first customer, but her first friend in the academy. Kouhai’s sweet words melted the atmosphere. Warming Izumi’s heart. The hug they shared tighten.    They stood like that for a while. Ending the moment when Kouhai was called by another student. They said their goodbyes again before Kouhai rushed off. Being introduced to new family by one of her senpais.     Sneaking a small wave to the nerd before she was introduced to the parents. Later, being questioned. “Kouhai, your eyes are pretty puffy. Have you been crying?”

  I’m going to miss this game so much! I’m just glad that the fandom won’t go down with it. Thank you again to Jakey and the amazing makers of Notice Me, Senpai!

    With love, 

            Lee

               (notice-me-senpai-hell)