#club saging

[supd00dle]

love me some fan made mobian Metal Sonics @artkotaro (these two belong to them!!)

[e-vay]

I finally got around to expanding on Aurora and Sage's friendship a little more. This was so much fun, I couldn't stop once I started! I'm going to tag all posts regarding them with #luminescentladies since they both glow!

Sonic Frontiers Spoilers: Yes, Sage does end up being good in the end. BUT she's still the daughter of THE Dr. Robotnik! So her villainous side comes out from time to time ;)

[supercap2319]

"You bought another issue of Teen Fairy?" Sky asked from his position by the door. He watched as Y/N flipped through the color pages of the magazine as the ice fairy's head broke above the book and smiles.

"Of course I did. I like to take the quizzes and see who's my magical soulmate."

"How can you read that shit? It's complete rubbish." Sky said.

"Are the pictures rubbish too?" Y/N held up the magazine to see a picture of Sky shirtless and looking down at the ground in jeans. His mother's advisor thought Sky should capitalize on his well, let's just say that Sky had certain qualities that the youth of the Otherworld could get behind.

"You bought it because of me?" Sky asked.

"Duh. You're eye candy. Also, do they even have a story to go with your pictures, or is this the beginning of Eraklyon's onlyfans?"

Sky chuckles.

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter Nine: Heliotrope for Devotion

Summary: While the Host Club argues about the events at the beach, Kyoya decides to try to teach a lesson.

            “I can’t believe Tamaki said that,” said Haruhi, still fuming as she and (Y/N) went to the basement. The lights had gone out due to the storm, so they needed to flip up the circuit breaker. ���What does being a girl have to do with anything?”

            “Even if we got into a bit of trouble, it was the right thing to do,” agreed (Y/N). “We can’t just run away when men act like that. It lets them get away with it again.”

            “Are you sure you’re okay, though, senpai?” said Haruhi. “You hit the water pretty hard.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, I’m fine.”

            Haruhi breathed out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think Tamaki is right, but I would have felt pretty bad if you’d gotten hurt,” she admitted.

            “You wouldn’t have to,” said (Y/N). “It was my decision to fight them like I did. If I hadn’t landed the hits I did, they wouldn’t have thrown me over the cliff.” (Y/N) walked to the circuit breaker and flipped it. The lights flickered back on, and (Y/N) smiled at Haruhi. “And I don’t regret hitting them. It was extremely satisfying.” They grinned wider. “The only thing I regret is not breaking that guy’s arm when I had the chance. I had the right leverage, just a little more force…” They brightened. “Oh, well. It wouldn’t have been the best for my reputation, I suppose.”

            “Senpai…You’re a little scary.” Haruhi sweat-dropped.

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Let’s get to dinner.”

            Haruhi nodded, and they walked back up the stairs together.

            “By the way, how did you end up in a sundress?” said (Y/N). “Did Tamaki put that in your room?”

            “My dad,” said Haruhi, deadpanning. “He replaced all my changes of clothes.”

            (Y/N) chuckled. “That sounds like your dad. You can borrow some of my clothes if you don’t feel comfortable.” They had simple loose trousers and some simple collared shirts—put-together enough as a host but relaxed enough to just hang with their friends.

            “I don’t mind dresses,” said Haruhi, shrugging. She glanced at (Y/N) as they walked. “Do you…?”

            “Mind dresses?” (Y/N) waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind answering questions.” They shrugged. “I don’t mind dresses. I wear a lot of masc clothing during school, but I occasionally wear some fem clothing when off campus.”

            Haruhi nodded in understanding and pushed open the door of the dining room where the other hosts and Nekozawa were playing some strange game (really, the hosts were playing, and Nekozawa was “terrorizing” Tamaki). Tamaki and Nekozawa were screaming as the lights flickered on, and Haruhi rolled her eyes.

            “The circuit breaker was down,” said Haruhi. “We found it in the basement and flicked it up.”

            “No ghosts,” said (Y/N).

            “…Haruhi, are those clothes yours?” said Hikaru, surprised.

            “Yeah. My dad repacked my bag,” said Haruhi. “Not very practical, but it’s what I had.”

            Good job Haruhi’s dad! thought the twins and Honey (and Tamaki, secretly, but he was still frustrated with Haruhi).

            “Haruhi, you’re so cute!” said Honey.

            “Where’d Nekozawa go?” said (Y/N), looking around. The host of the Host Club had disappeared.

            “He wanted to turn in early,” said Kyoya, not looking up from his notebook. (Y/N) frowned as their heart clenched at his lack of acknowledgement of them. “The electricity was a shock to him.”

            “(Y/N), Haru, we have fancy tuna!” said Honey, gesturing the table.

            They sat down, and Haruhi was about to reach for the fancy tuna, but, childishly, Tamaki grabbed it and stuffed it into his mouth (he wanted Tamaki’s attention but wasn’t willing to speak to her). Everyone deadpanned, and (Y/N)’s eyebrow twitched.

            “There’s…um…crab, too!” said Honey hurriedly.

            “I’ll have that,” said Haruhi, picking it up and cracking it open.

            (Y/N), wisely staying out of the situation, reached out to eat some oyster spaghetti instead of crab.

            “Crab, Tamaki? Here.” Haruhi held out a leg.

            Everyone stared. She was talking to him? Tamaki’s eyes widened, and he took it. He deadpanned.

            “It’s just the shell,” said Haruhi, monotone.

            Payback for the tuna… thought everyone.

            In retaliation, Tamaki reached for some crab, but Haruhi stabbed the table with her knife, blocking his path.

            “Haruhi can be…childish, apparently,” said Kaoru.

            Kyoya hummed slightly in acknowledgement, but as he looked up, his eyes only went to (Y/N) where they ate calmly. They didn’t seem shaken or thinking at all about what they had done in the afternoon, the danger they’d been in.

            “Who do you think you are, the twins?!” said Tamaki, glaring at Haruhi.

            “I thought you weren’t talking to me?” said Haruhi, rolling her eyes.

            A giant irk mark appeared on Tamaki’s forehead “So you have no intention of reconsidering. Fine, then! I’m going to bed!” He walked to the door, and a servant bowed.

            “I will show you to your room. This way,” said the servant.

            Tamaki peered down the dark, spooky corridor. “Um…Kyoya…?” He pouted. “Aren’t you ready for bed?”

            Kyoya sighed and stood. “I’ll turn in early, too.”

            He and Tamaki headed out, and (Y/N)’s eyes remained on the door as it swung closed. They hesitated before standing. “I’m going to head to bed, too.” They smiled. “Goodnight, everyone.”

            “’Night!” said Honey.

            “I’ll see you in the morning,” said Haruhi, nodding.

            (Y/N) headed to the door and stepped out. They turned down the hall and walked in the direction of their and the rest of the hosts’ rooms. They were tired, yes, but they had business to attend to before dinner. Tamaki and Haruhi fighting was disrupting the peace, and they needed to get them to talk things out and explain they were both right and wrong—Haruhi and (Y/N) had gotten into some trouble, but they had done the right thing, and Tamaki had been right to be a bit worried, but he had been wrong to get angry instead of expressing his concern in a healthy manner.

            And so, (Y/N) was going to talk to Kyoya. He knew Tamaki well, (Y/N) knew Haruhi well, and together they could get them to talk. (Sure, Kyoya preferred not to get involved in these things, but (Y/N) knew he would want the Host Club to remain cordial and working well).

            They arrived at his door and knocked. “Kyoya?” The door opened at their simple knock, not completely closed. Awkwardly, (Y/N) stepped in and looked around. “Kyoya?” A gust of wind blew the door closed, (Y/N) jumped. The shutters banged as the winds of the storm picked up, and (Y/N) huffed. They walked over and pulled the window closed properly.

            “(Y/N)?”

            (Y/N) turned, and their face could’ve been painted red. Kyoya stood in the doorway of the bathroom, shirtless with pajama pants hanging loosely around his hips. Quickly, they bowed apologetically. “I’m so sorry, the door was opened, I didn’t realize you were showering—”

            “It’s fine,” said Kyoya, running a hand through his damp hair. Without his glasses on, his dark eyes were more piercing than usual, and as his gaze landed on (Y/N), they found themself rooted in place. “I wanted to speak to you.”

            “You did?” (Y/N) had thought he was frustrated or something since he hadn’t spoken, but if he wanted to talk, that was good, right?

            “Yes. You and Haruhi caused quite some trouble for us,” said Kyoya. He walked towards (Y/N). “Tamaki told me the twins nearly tried to kill those boys. We had to send flowers worth several thousand dollars to our guests.”

            (Y/N) winced. That was trouble.

            “But there is an easy solution.”

            Kyoya stood in front of (Y/N), and as they took a step back—oh my god, he’s so close, spiraled their thoughts—their legs hit the bed. Kyoya caught them as they teetered back, and he lowered them to the bed. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as he leaned over them, his legs between theirs, one hand at their waist as their shirt rode up to expose skin, and the other above their head. Instinctively, (Y/N)’s hands went to his shoulders, unsure of what was about to happen. This was very forward of Kyoya, and their heart thumped quickly in their chest.

            “You can pay me back with your body,” said Kyoya, his breath ghosting over their ear. “After all…I’m a man. You’re attractive and weaker than me. It would be quite easy for me to take advantage of that.”

            And then all of (Y/N)’s surprise, nervousness, and tiny amount of fear left them. They smiled and laughed. Kyoya’s eyes widened slightly at the reaction, and (Y/N) lifted a hand to his cheek.

            Kyoya’s heart thumped suddenly in his chest at the touch and the softness in their gaze as they looked up at him. Suddenly, although he had intentionally placed himself in such a situation, Kyoya was acutely aware of the feeling of their legs almost wrapped around his hips and his hand on the skin of their waist. He sat back, heart still pounding, and (Y/N) sat up.

            “You were trying to teach me a lesson, weren’t you?” said (Y/N) gently. They chuckled and shook their head. “You certainly do things in a unique way.”

            “You were in danger,” said Kyoya. “You didn’t even think; you immediately put yourself in harm’s way.” His dark gaze pierced (Y/N)’s once more. “Do you understand what it felt—what is was like to see you falling from the cliff? If you had hit a rock, you would be dead. Or if those boys had done something to you—”

            “I know,” said (Y/N), reaching out and touching Kyoya’s arm boldly. “I know I should’ve thought more. Haruhi and I should’ve hit them and run with the girls. But we gave the guests a chance to leave, first. We’d rather be in danger than them.” They smiled gently and squeezed his arm slightly. “And I can’t regret protecting people. Do you understand, Kyoya? I don’t regret it. I understood the danger. I know what men are capable of. But…thank you for worrying.”

            “How did you know?” said Kyoya, looking at them. “How did you know I wasn’t capable of that?” He needed them to understand there was always danger. He didn’t want them to trust the wrong person and get hurt. He didn’t want them hurt.

            “Kyoya, you wouldn’t take advantage of someone,” said (Y/N) simply. “That’s not who you are.” They smiled at him. “I could never fear you.”

            Kyoya stared at them, and that sudden twisting in his heart lit up into a fire. Oh. He had never felt this feeling, but he recognized it immediately. He knew it from the way he watched the moonlight slant across their face—the one that was so handsome. He knew it from the way he enjoyed the softness in their gaze. He knew it from the way he listened so eagerly to their honesty and trust. Kyoya liked (Y/N). He had feelings for them.

            Kyoya smiled slightly and chuckled as the feeling welled up in his heart. “That’s not who I am? I’m sure many would disagree.”

            “You’re strategic, sure,” said (Y/N). “You’re the Shadow King of the Host Club. But you’re not a cruel man. Not in that way. Not ever. I trust you.”

            “What an interesting notion…” said Kyoya softly, gazing at them. His hand raised to cover theirs on his arm. “You have a strange perspective of me.”

            “I’m your friend. I see you for who you are,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Kyoya’s newfound feelings burned more ferociously within his heart as he heard their words. “I…apologize for attempting to frighten you. It was wrong of me.”

            “It was,” said (Y/N). “But I don’t mind. I’m alright.” In fact, it was kind of nice… They had to quickly shake that thought away. They dropped their hand from his arm and stood. “I’ll leave you now. I just wanted to say that Haruhi and Tamaki need to talk.”

            “Tamaki already plans to speak to Haruhi,” said Kyoya.

            “Good,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Well…goodnight, Kyoya.”

            “Goodnight, (Y/N).” He watched them head to the door and hesitated. “(Y/N).”

            They looked back at him. “Yes, Kyoya?”

            “I’m glad you’re alright. I don’t enjoy seeing you in danger,” said Kyoya. He was quite pleased as (Y/N) smiled wider.

            “I know,” said (Y/N). “Thank you for saving me.”

            Kyoya nodded and watched them leave. As the door swung closed, he spoke softly. “I always will.”

Taglist:

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[sun-citadel]

Style study | transparent below

Brush used

[los-plantalones]

Started Herb Club™ with a friend where we pick out a few in-season herbs or plants and once a month we gather at their shop and have a potluck of foods using said herbs/plants. And then we discuss them like the nerds we are. So far we only have 4 members but I’m hoping it catches on.

[merry-mutants]

Sage by Sam Johnstone

instagram.com/nightshift_sam

[suntails]

two left to draw and it’s done. the series will have taken over two months but it’ll be DONE. sleepy silver sweep <3

[3lliesan]

Local therapist... wait you don't have a license.

Crewel: Yuu, you understand that your level of emotional intelligence is hard to find in puppies at NRC, right?

Yuu: Unfortunately.

Trein: And you know firsthand what happens to a person when they bottle up negative feelings to the point of overflowing, magic or not, right?

Yuu saluting: Yessir.

Sam, clenching their shoulders: So you know you can tell a reliable adult any time if something is wrong, right?

Yuu, with the brightest, most innocent smile: Nuh uh.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Interlude: The Bachelorette Party

John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OFC)

Juliet goes out with the Book Club Girlies to celebrate her last night of being Juliet Thompson

a/n: This minichap is just a fun little idea I ran with while I was picturing the night before Jules's wedding-- love, chaos, and joy aplenty. Along the way it turned into something much more self indulgent (largely prompted by @winniemaywebber suggesting that Olive somehow gets an orchestra to play Lover at Juliet's wedding 😂) (… keep your eyes peeled in the next chapter 🤭), but I hope you all enjoy, or at the very least find this glimpse into the more random corners of my mind entertaining.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, tipsiness/drunkenness, everyone's safe I promise!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Book Club Girlies: @winniemaywebber @blakelysco-pilot

Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

“To the bride-to-be!” One of her friends— Val, probably?— cheers, lifting her glass in a toast.

French 75, Jules notes through the thin fog of alcohol clouding her brain, definitely Val.

Toasts of “To the bride!” “To Jules!” chorus around her as her friends lift their own glasses, Juliet raising her own in cheerful thanks.

Joy bubbles up in her chest, too much for her to contain, and she lets out a bright, sunny laugh as another round is ordered for the girls.

“I’m getting married!” She squeals to the nearest person— Olive, who happily wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“You’re getting married!” The Brit echoes, a grin lighting up her face.

The two (rather strong) lemon drops she’s already had are making it difficult for her to form proper sentences, so she settles for a giggle, twirling to watch the skirt of her pale yellow swing dress— the closest thing she has to an off-white at the moment— fan out around her.

Her fuzzy mind drifts back for a moment to the last time they were all together like this— just the girls, having a drink while the boys were off doing who-knows-what.

•••

“Olive,” Juliet asked, the alcohol buzzing warm in her veins loosening her tongue, “What’s the future like?”

“Oh,” the Brit blinked as she took a sip of her martini, “um. Well. Is there anything specific you want to know?”

Jules exchanged a glance with Vika, who just shrugged, wide-eyed. 70 years… she couldn’t fathom how much life could change in such a long stretch of time. Jean and Jo were no help either— they knew Olive was from a different time, but actually thinking about it…

“Well,” Olive said, when they came up with nothing, “When I told Val, I showed her some music. You wanna hear some?” She reached into her bag and pulled out the thin, flat rectangle she called a phone, which Jules still didn’t understand. No wires, no buttons… how in the world did it work? 

She’d said as much the first time Olive had shown them, to which she simply replied, “Magic.”

It did seem like magic when Olive pressed her finger to the flat surface and the screen lit up.

“Oh!” Olive grinned, hazel eyes flicking over to Jules, “I think you’ll like this one.”

The sound of a guitar filled the room as she pressed her finger to the phone again, and Juliet jumped.

“Goodness, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” she laughed sheepishly.

“It’s a good song, I promise,” Olive giggled, “Just listen.”

Juliet did, albeit a bit distractedly. The lyrics were nice, about dancing in a storm, being fearless, a first kiss, and she found her fingers tapping to the beat as the song ended.

“I knew you’d like it,” Olive beamed. “There’s another one by the same artist— her name’s Taylor Swift— that made me think of you if you want to listen?”

She couldn’t find it in her to say no, not when her friend looked so eager, and it was a good song…

She listened, still a bit distracted— truly, how was there music coming out of the tiny thing in Olive’s hand?— but she couldn’t help a tiny gasp as she heard the singer mention Romeo and Juliet.

Olive’s smile grew at her reaction, and only grew wider seeing Juliet become visibly invested in the song.

Memories flitted through her head of her and John in time with the song; so I sneak out to the garden to see you called up memories of doing just that when they’d first started dating, when they couldn’t bear to be apart for longer than a few hours; don’t be afraid, we’ll make it out of this mess, had tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, recalling John’s many letters while he was overseas telling her just that, and then—

The music swelled.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, the song continued, and Juliet could feel the tears threatening to spill over—

Marry me, Juliet.

And that did it. She burst into sobs and Olive scrambled to shut off the music, a stricken look on her face.

“Oh goodness, Jules,” Olive looked unspeakably worried, “I’m so sorry, I thought you’d like it, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

”No, no,” Juliet sniffled, waving her off with a watery laugh, “I’m fine, I love it, it just… made me think about Johnny and I.”

When the worry remained etched on Olive’s face, she explained further. “In a good way, I promise. Can you… Does it keep going? I really do love it.”

At Olive’s not-quite-reassured look, she added for good measure, “It’s much better than Johnny’s harmonica for three hours straight.”

Juliet’s fiancé had picked up the harmonica as a hobby while he was waiting to hear back from the school about the teaching position. Once he had gotten it, it had become a way for him to dive back into music. 

And dive into it he had.

Olive giggled, by now more than familiar with Juliet’s lighthearted complaints about Brady’s new hobby. She pressed the screen again, and Juliet managed to keep her tears at bay as the end of the song played.

“Um… Taylor Swift, you said her name was?” Juliet asked, nodding towards the phone once the song ended.

At Olive’s confirmation, she asked, “Do you have any more of her songs?”

The eager grin that spread across Olive’s face gave Juliet the feeling she’d just unleashed something that maybe she shouldn’t have.

“Oh, do I ever.”

•••

Someone’s voice pulls her out of her reverie, another one of Taylor Swift’s songs starting up idly in the back of her mind— a sweet love song aptly titled Lover.

“Do you think you should slow down a bit, Jules?” Vika, ever the responsible one, pipes up from her place at the bar, a Coca-Cola in hand. 

“Absolutely not,” Jo grins as she sidles up between Val and Olive, pressing yet another lemon drop into Jules’s hand, “It’s a celebration, Vika!”

Juliet beams and downs it.

“I guess we know what her limit is now,” someone mutters next to Jules as she leans on their shoulder, looking down sadly at the emerald ring adorning her left hand.

“She was so happy earlier,” another voice says— British? Jules notes hazily— almost in amazement, “Did anyone know she was a clingy drunk?”

There’s a chorus of mumbled nos as Juliet takes a shaky breath.

“What do you mean—”

She pauses, lip trembling, and the group around her collectively holds its breath, letting out a sigh of relief when no tears appear.

“What do you mean I can’t see Johnny now?” she whines, thumb worrying over the sparkling emerald as she looks at each of her friends in turn, “I miss him.”

“You’ll see him tomorrow, sweetheart,” Jo says from beside her, “Remember, you’re getting married!” She attempts to inject cheer into her voice, pitching it higher on the last sentence.

Tomorrow? But that’s… that’s forever away.

“But I want to see Johnny now,” she insists pleadingly, her fuzzy brain focused solely on her fiancé.

“Honey—” Olive sighs, “Okay, hold on.” She gestures for the girls to huddle up, and after a brief whispered conversation, they turn back to the pouting bride-to-be.

“Come with us, sweetheart,” Jean says, guiding Juliet up to standing.

“We’re gonna take you to see Johnny,” Jo beams from her other side.

One very crowded cab ride later, the girls arrive at the bar the boys had claimed as their own.

“Wait here,” Val instructs, nodding to Vika— the one somewhat-sober person of their party— in thanks for staying with Jules while the rest of them venture into the bar.

“Brady!” Olive calls, interrupting the rowdiness of a dozen drunk men, one with a harmonica, and a dog.

A tipsy John Brady turns from where he’s laughing with Dougie and Ev, harmonica dangling from his fingertips.

“Ol?” Dougie says, “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Val assures them, meeting Ev’s eyes with a gentle nod, “We just need to borrow Brady here for a minute.”

“But why—?”

“It’s a surprise, John!” Jo sighs exasperatedly, “Just come with us!”

With some convincing, they manage to get John outside, and his eyes widen at the sight of his girl.

He forces his eyes down to the pavement, even as a smile stretches across his face at the way his (evidently very tipsy) soon-to-be wife lit up at the sight of him.

“Jules,” he admonishes through his smile as he makes his way over to her, eyes trained firmly on the sidewalk, “I’m not supposed to see you, honey, it’s bad luck.”

Her fingers clumsily intertwine with his, and he can hear the smile in her voice as she says, slurring the tiniest bit, “So close your eyes, John Brady.”

He obeys with a soft laugh.

“What was so important that you had to—?”

He trails off as he feels her hand cup his cheek, thumb tracing clumsily over the corner of his mouth before her lips land on his in a kiss that tastes like alcohol and citrus and pure sunshine.

“Just missed you,” she murmurs as she pulls away, a telltale thickness in her voice as she continues, “I love you so much, Johnny.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes still obediently closed, “I think it’s time for you to get some rest, though.” 

He pauses, savoring this last quiet moment with her before the inevitable chaos and joy that the next day will bring.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jules.”

He steps back and turns away, still holding his fiancée’s hand as he opens his eyes to speak with the gaggle of girls surrounding them, “Can you all get her home safe?”

“We’ve got her,” Olive says, voice wobbly.

He notes with horror that the girls, all varying degrees of tipsy, each have tears in their eyes that surely match Jules’s.

Vika lays a reassuring hand on his arm, his shoulders relaxing as he notes the clarity in her gaze, “We’ve got her, John.”

John keeps his eyes dutifully away from his fiancée as her friends attempt to bundle her back into a cab, only looking up to watch as the lights fade down the street.

“Everything alright?”

He turns to see Benny standing in the doorway, face half-lit by the light from the bar, Meatball an ever-present shadow at his side.

“Everything’s great,” he assures his friend, and judging by Benny’s knowing look, something in his face must give away how much he means it.

“Jules… she wanted to come say goodnight before tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Benny nods, “Last time she says goodnight to you as a Thompson. That’s sweet.”

There’s a beat, and John moves to step past Benny when a hand lands on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“I really am happy for you, Brady.”

The teasing, tipsy twinkle in Benny’s eye has given way to pure sincerity, Benny no doubt remembering their time in the stalag; John waiting eagerly for each letter from Jules, becoming somehow even more determined to make it home with each cursive-filled page, the night he’d quietly admitted to Benny— because he’d had to tell someone— his plan to propose as soon as he could when he was home.

Benny had seen all of it, and now here he was at his bachelor party the night before his wedding.

“Thank you, Benny,” John says, nodding.

The solemn mood remains for a moment before John cracks a smile, bumping his shoulder into Benny’s as they step inside.

“It’ll be your turn soon enough.”

“Yeah, tell that to the girls lining up to go out with me,” Benny rolls his eyes.

“No really, DeMarco,” John laughs, “We should set you up with someone. What do you think of Vika?”

“I think that she’s a very good friend and that’s all I need right now,” Benny says, guiding the groom-to-be back towards the bar. 

“I also think,” he says, signaling for two whiskeys, “that you need another drink before this night is through.”

Brady grins.

“If you insist.”

[sagethegayyyy]

i eated them all

[evclub-official]

Absolutely ancient judas meme

[bringbackwendellvaughn]

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1)

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter One: Coriander for Hidden Worth

Summary: (Y/N) is surprised to find that their mentee has stumbled into the Host Club.

            “So have your classes been going well so far?” said (Y/N), smiling and leaning on their hand.

            Haruhi nodded. “The academics are more rigorous here, but I’ve dealt with hard classes before.”

            “Good,” said (Y/N). “I’m glad the transition is going well for you.” They laughed lightly. “I remember trying to find my way around this place the first couple of weeks. I was almost late so many times.”

            Haruhi sweat-dropped. “Tell me about it…”

            Haruhi, like (Y/N), was a scholarship student. (Y/N) was her mentor since they were a year older and a successful scholarship student themself. (Y/N) had high hopes for Haruhi, even if she was a bit more reserved and uninterested in getting involved at the school. Haruhi was focused on getting herself into a good college so she could become a lawyer, and Ouran was the place to do it. (Y/N) wouldn’t fault her for being studious—they, too, focused heavily on their own academics.

            “But you’ve figured things out,” said (Y/N). “So I’m glad.” They looked at Haruhi. “But remember that the academy does encourage extracurriculars. You should choose some sort of club—even just a future lawyers organization.”

            “I’ll think about it,” said Haruhi. She huffed. “Isn’t it enough that they make the uniforms too expensive and all the buildings so fancy? I have to be involved, too?”

            “Ouran boasts well-rounded students,” said (Y/N), chuckling. “That means clubs.” They glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for mine.” They stood. “Bye, Haruhi. Let me know if you need anything.” They waved and walked off.

            Haruhi looked at the clock and at her books. I should find someplace to get homework done.

l

            The door to Music Room 3 creaked open, and the Host Club members looked over, expecting a new guest.

            “Welcome,” they said in tandem.

            Instead, they faced a brown-haired, slightly scruffy student who stared in shock.

            I didn’t expect Haruhi here, thought (Y/N), amused as Haruhi’s jaw dropped open.

            “It’s a man,” said Kaoru and Hikaru together.

            “Men are valuable patrons too,” said Tamaki, shrugging.

            (Y/N) stifled a chuckle. Kyoya raised a brow, and they exchanged a look. Unsurprisingly, Kyoya already knew Haruhi was a biological girl and identified as such. However, who were they to tell the other Host Club members? They could figure it out for themselves.

            “Welcome to Ouran Host Club, Haruhi Fujioka, scholarship student,” greeted Tamaki gallantly. “You are a rare creature in this place.”

            So he knows who she is but doesn’t know she’s not a boy? (Y/N) was so glad Tamaki was so dense; he brought a smile to their face. “Tamaki, don’t refer to scholarship students as ‘creatures.’ ”

            Tamaki grinned at (Y/N). “I would never disrespect you!”

            “Good,” said (Y/N).

            “After all, it takes tenacity and thick skin for scholarship students to make it here since it is difficult for them to fit in with our culture,” said Kyoya bluntly.

            “I think on that front I have more tact than you, Kyoya,” said (Y/N), raising a brow.

            Kyoya smirked slightly. “Perhaps.”

            “In short,” said Tamaki. “Fujioka, you’re a trailblazer!” He held Haruhi close and dramatically waved his arms. “Top student in your class, yet you’re poorer than a church mouse. Some may call you a weed or despise your low-class status.”

            An irk mark appeared on Haruhi’s forehead. She was clearly learning Tamaki was an idiot (and had yet to see that he was a lovable idiot when he wasn’t so dense).

            “There’s nothing wrong with poverty, of course. You’re a crusader, and a crusader only needs one thing—a reckless heart,” declared Tamaki. “Of course, we heard the rumor you’re a gay man—”

            “…Huh?” Haruhi stared.

            “What is your type? Wild? Cutsey? Or…” Tamaki grinned and titled her chin up. “Am I more your style?”

            Haruhi jumped away. “N-No, it’s not like that at all!”

            “Are you really a crusader, Haru?” said Honey, grinning. “Do you have stories of saving princesses? I love those!”

            “Who are you calling Haru?!”

            Poor Honey retreated to Mori.

            “(Y/N), you, what, this is the club you’re a part of?” said Haruhi, staring at her mentor.

            “I have fun,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “They bring in quite a few clients,” remarked Kyoya.

            Haruhi deadpanned before shaking her head. “Look, I was just trying to find a quiet place,” she said, backing away as Tamaki approached again. “So excuse me—”

            Bump!

            (Y/N) darted forward to try to save Haruhi from disaster.

            Crash!

            A blue and white vase hit the ground and broke into a million pieces. (Y/N) winced as a shard cut their hand. Haruhi stared at the destruction in horror.

            “That vase was by Rune,” said Hikaru. “It was to be the featured item in the next school auction.”

            “The bidding was going to start at eight million yen, but I don’t think it will fetch that now,” said Kauro.

            “I-I’ll pay for it…” Poor Haruhi trailed of.

            “You bet you will, but how? You can’t even afford a uniform,” said Hikaru and Kauro.

            “All my father could offer me was this hand-me-down sweater,” groaned Haruhi as the twins twisted the knife. She looked at (Y/N). “I’m sorry about your hand, I didn’t mean to—”

            (Y/N) waved their hand. “Don’t worry about it, Haruhi.”

            “Well, Tamaki, how should we handle this?” said Kyoya, sighing and looking at Tamaki.

            “Fujioka, are you familiar with the saying, ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do?’ ” said Tamaki. “And this—‘If you don’t have the cash, pay with your carcass?’ As of today, you’re the Host Club’s dog!”

            Haruhi’s jaw dropped open, and her soul floated from her body. (Y/N) patted her on the back, holding their hold hand up as blood dripped from their palm.

l

            Haruhi’s eyebrow twitched as she watched all of the hosts complete their “duties.” Tamaki flattered every one of his princesses, the twins had their strange routine, Honey ate with people, Mori watched over Honey and the guests dutifully, and (Y/N) moved between people with easy friendliness that had all the women smiling.

            “Oh, (Y/N), what happened to your hand?” said a worried guests, looking at the cut on their hand.

            “Just a little accident,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Don’t worry for me. Please make sure to take care of yourself.” The guest’s face turned red. “I’d rather be the one getting hurt than you.”

            The guests squealed as (Y/N) walked off with a smile.

            “You guys live in another world,” said Haruhi, sweat-dropping. She was a bit impressed—she had never seen (Y/N) act like that, though they were always kind and friendly—that (Y/N) handled it so simply.

            “We simply apply our individual talents to meet the needs of our clients,” said Kyoya.

            “People like being treated with kindness,” said (Y/N). “Some like Tamaki’s princely nature, some like the normalcy I bring.” They smiled. “Everyone gets to enjoy themselves.”

            “Now,” said Kyoya, looking at Haruhi. “Your duties.” Haruhi shivered at the official tone. “You’ll handle basic chores for a while. You can refuse, of course, but my family’s reach is long and wide. I’d suggest a passport.”

            Haruhi looked at (Y/N) for help.

            “I’d just listen, if I were you,” said (Y/N).

            “You’ve got eight million yen’s worth of chores to do and not much to offer a girl,” said Tamaki.

            Haruhi jumped as he appeared behind her. She huffed. “Man, woman, whatever, how we look is irrelevant anyways, right?

            “I like you for a reason,” said (Y/N) fondly.

            “It’s what’s inside that’s important,” said Haruhi.

            “Well, that’s true, and it’s so cruel how sometimes God bestows perfection inside and out,” sighed Tamaki dramatically.

            Haruhi’s eyebrow twitched.

            “But console yourself with that, if you like! I understand,” declared Tamaki. “How can you live with yourself otherwise?”

            “I got it,” said Haruhi suddenly.

            “Got what?” said Tamaki brightly.

            “You’re annoying,” said Haruhi bluntly.

            Tamaki retreated to a corner, and (Y/N) began chuckling. Kyoya smirked in amusement.

            “That’s telling him,” laughed Kauro and Hikaru.

            Haruhi sweat-dropped. “Um, Tamaki—”

            “ ‘King,’ ” said Tamaki sullenly. “That’s what they call me here.”

            “Tamaki, no one calls you that,” said (Y/N), putting their hands on their hips. “Don’t trick Haruhi.”

            Tamaki pouted.

            “I just wanted a quiet place to study,” groaned Haruhi.

            “How about at home?” said Tamaki.

            “Dad brings his girls over during the day. He works at night,” explained Haruhi.

            “Guess that throws a wrench in things,” said Tamaki. “He won’t pay tuition, either?”

            “It’s not like that,” said Haruhi. “It’s been rough, you know? I don’t want to burden him. Along with everything else, he was stuck raising me all by himself for ten years.”

            “I’d define that situation as pathetic,” said Tamaki.

            “No, it’s—”

            “Did you subsist on rice and horseradish?” cried Tamaki. “So poor that you might have been sold to a mean master who’d overwork you and leave you crying into your pillow every night?!”

            “Where’d that come from?!” shouted Haruhi.

            “Very well, I’ll cut you a deal,” said Tamaki decisively. “Your appearance makes the appearance hopeless, but I will do my best to teach you. Let’s see…let’s make it one hundred! Yes! If you can garner on hundred requests, I’ll wave your debt to the Host Club! And you’ll be the star host for girls who like poor people!”

            “I…I don’t want to!” cried Haruhi. “I’ll dust, scrub floors, anything but that!

            “Don’t worry, Haruhi, it’s not all bad. You get nice food,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Haruhi groaned since that was barely any sort of encouragement. Just barely.

            “Your training starts now!” said Tamaki, grabbing Haruhi.

            “(Y/N), help—”

            “You’re going to do great, Haruhi,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Haruhi groaned as she was dragged away.

            “Your next guest is arriving in five minutes,” said Kyoya, checking his notebook. He looked at (Y/N)’s hand. “You should put a bandage on that cut. We can’t have one of our hosts getting an infection, can we?”

            “It would be bad for business,” agreed (Y/N), smiling.”

            “Indeed,” agreed Kyoya with a closed-eye smile.

l

            “I’ve heard, Tamaki, that you’re raising a kitten that doesn’t have proper pedigree,” said Ayanokoji, a slight smirk in her voice.

            “Ah, yes, a bit hopeless, to be honest, but I couldn’t him fend for himself, now, could I?” said Tamaki, smiling.

            “How kind of you,” said Ayanokoji. “Taking care of the needy.”

            (Y/N) knew her gaze flitted to them, and they kept their eyes on their clients, smiling at them. (Y/N) wasn’t letting her get into their head. They knew she saw them as a pity-party that the Host Club took care of and undoubtedly viewed Haruhi as the same, but (Y/N) didn’t care about her opinion, so they weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Aha, you’re back from shopping,” said Tamaki as Haruhi entered the room.

            Haruhi had evaded most of the host duties given to her by just doing chores and running errands.

            “Find everything?” said Tamaki.

            “Yeah,” said Haruhi, unpacking the shopping bag.

            “Eh? What’s this?” said Tamaki, gesturing to a container.

            “Coffee.” Haruhi deadpanned. “It was on your list.”

            “But…ground coffee?” asked Tamaki.

            “Not ground. Instant,” corrected Haruhi.

            “Whoa!” exclaimed Tamaki, and the other hosts hurried over to him. “The one you just pour water in? How proletarian!”

            “I’ve heard of it but never seen it,” remarked Kyoya.

            “What do you think I’ve been drinking every morning?” said (Y/N).

            “Hm.” Kyoya jotted down a note.

            “So it’s true! Poor people have no time to grind their beans!” exclaimed Kauro.

            “It’s how common folk cope,” said Hikaru.

            “I’ve always wanted to try it! Let’s brew some up,” said Honey excitedly. Mori nodded.

            Haruhi looked at (Y/N) incredulously. “Do they seriously not know what instant coffee is?”

            “Nope,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “You’ve never made any?” said Haruhi.

            “I’ve never been the Host Club’s dog so I never ran errands,” said (Y/N) with a closed-eye smile.

            Haruhi deflated. “Low blow,” she groaned. “I’ll go and get the expensive stuff.” She sighed and turned around.

            “No, I’ll drink this!” said Tamaki.

            “Whoa, you’re brave,” teased Hikaru.

            “Three dollars for 3.5 ounces? Not great value,” said Kaoru. “Hardly worth one cup.”

            Haruhi faced (Y/N). “Is this how they always are?”

            (Y/N) smiled. “Yes. But…” Their gaze softened. “You grow fond of it.”

            “Yeah, sure,” said Haruhi.

            “Haruhi~ We want coffee!” said Tamaki.

            “They’re just messing around, you know,” said Ayanokoji, chuckling softly but with intense maliciousness anyways. “That stuff won’t suit their taste at all.”

            “Huh?” said Haruhi, surprised by her words.

            “…” (Y/N)’s smile fell, and their gaze hardened.

            “Oh, sorry.” Ayanokoji smiled. “I was talking to myself.”

            “Aha.” Haruhi doubted that, and as she glanced at (Y/N), she saw that (Y/N) wasn’t fooled by Ayanokoji’s manners, either.

            “Haruhi! Make us some of this commoner’s coffee!” said Tamaki again. “Everyone’s keen to try it!”

            Haruhi sighed. “I’ll get hot water.”

            “I’ll get some cups,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “At least you have my back,” said Haruhi. (Y/N) chuckled

            While everyone watched with strange interest, Haruhi made the instant coffee, and cups were handed out to the curious guests and hosts.

            “I won’t be responsible if they don’t like it,” said Haruhi decisively.

            “I’m not sure…” said one guest.

            “My dad will freak…” said another girl.

            “Would you prefer to drink from my mouth?” flirted Tamaki.

            “N-No, a cup’s fine,” said the girl, her face turning completely red.

            Haruhi deadpanned.

            “Doesn’t it seem wrong for Tamaki to drink such swill?” said one guest. “Doesn’t it, Ayanokoji?”

            “Well, it’s all part of this new project of his. He thinks the last one went well, after all,” said Ayanokoji. “Though he may be overdoing it about.”

            (Y/N)’s gaze flicked to Ayanokoji as they overhead her. “…” They didn’t like her view of Haruhi. Condescending rich people are the worst type.

            “Very little taste,” said Kyoya, tasting the coffee. “The aftertaste is interesting, however.”

            (Y/N) turned to him. “I’m surprised you tried it.”

            “I could hardly trust Tamaki’s tastes. He raves about everything,” said Kyoya.

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Very true.”

            “You said you drink this every morning?” said Kyoya.

            “With how late I stay up doing schoolwork? Yes,” said (Y/N). They were a scholarship student for a reason.

            “I doubt this is helping your cognitive abilities,” said Kyoya. “I’ll have my driver drop off proper coffee at your home.” He returned to his notebook, not taking any arguments against it.

            (Y/N) smiled. “If you insist, Kyoya.”

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Parting g i f t .

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