#i thought about starting on UH but then i remembered the shop prices and said nah

[robo-dino-puppy]

"follow."

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 4

Part 1 here.

John lets the men simmer for two days. Mostly he lets their trip to his seamstress ride to see if they brought it up to him. They didn’t. Guess he would be playing this the sly way.

“Found an old quilt from my grandmother when cleaning out my mum’s house last leave.”

Johnny’s brain sparked on the word association just as John hoped it would.

“Found out I can get my family kilts fixed up and preserved. Met a pretty lass who runs a shop that said it was a possibility.”

“Oh?” John folded his arms across his chest, encouraging Johnny to go on by tilting his head in interest.

“Yeah, pretty bird, kicked us out when we started asking about-”

He cut himself off pretty quick but John gave him a small scary smile.

“Asking about who, Johnny?”

Johnny started to back up, hands raised as he babbled his excuses.

“Finish your excuses and go get the guys.”

Johnny turned tail and fled from the room. His muppets filed in the room, Johnny getting forced by the neck by Simon who glared down at him. Must have wanted to keep this a secret. Should have known better than to tell Johnny. The man couldn’t keep a non-life-threatening secret to save anyone’s life. Kyle and Gary slid in after the duo.

“Muppets. You will leave my seamstress well enough alone or I will make it a problem for you.”

“So she is yours?” Gary piped up from the side.

Shooting him a glare John continued.

“I am grown enough to not explain myself to the lot of you, but if I get a call again about any of you bothering her I will make it everyone’s problem.”

Kyle smirked and spoke out one side of his mouth.

“Seems like Price can’t get a date.”

“Kyle I swear to my god and yours I will make you disappear if you keep it up. If your clothes go missing, just know they will be back. Now get out of here the lot of you.”

His men shared smiles and eye contact.

They hustled from the room when he picked up his blackened coffee mug to throw at one of them.

“Fucking muppets going to send me to an early grave. I don’t even have her phone number yet,” he mumbled to himself as the back of them disappeared.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You think about John far more often than you should. He is a customer. Yes, he sleeps in your chairs and smiles at you in a way that pulls his cheeks to the moon, and yes he makes your heart flutter the tiniest bit but, but he is a customer who has never shown interest and you refuse to make someone feel uncomfortable in your shop. Your shop was a safe space, for everyone. Your flags are on clear display, so many, many flags, made sure of it.

He stepped through your thoughts carelessly. When you were wandering a superstore you somehow ended up in the camping section. A clearance foldable cot caught your eye and left the store with you. You maneuvered it into your tiny car and into the shop without allowing yourself to question why you had bought it.

John appeared two mornings following your purchase. You smile, wider than you should, at him.

“Hi John, welcome back! Got anything new and interesting for me today?”

Did you sound too chipper?

“Nothing crazy, one of my men needs a mask fixed.”

“Do you always bring in their items? I hope they are paying you at least,” you joke as you take the offered mask.

Spreading it on the counter you look it over, a tear over one ear and one from the eye portion. Both are decently easy fixes but would require your ring light and some time with a hand needle.

Looking up you offer John another smile. Fuck, can you keep the smiles to a minimum? He is going to think you are weird and then stop coming by.

“This shouldn’t take terribly long, I would say maybe an hour?”

John knocked one knuckle against the counter as he nodded. With both hands on the armrests, you remembered the cot in the back.

“Oh, John!”

He paused, ass halfway lowered into the seat.

“I..uh..” you stammer to a stop, unsure of how your words might be received.

“Yes?” He lifts a single brow at you, body not shaking as he waits.

Tucking one arm to your chest and the other to your mouth you speak from behind it.

“I found a cot. I brought it to the shop for you to use if you wanted?”

The words rush out of you, mumbled by your hand, and the speed by which you hurl them.

John stands, moving to stand next to the counter where the floor changes, noting the difference in customer space vs working space.

“What was that dove?”

Tightening your lips before biting the inside of your cheek you force yourself to say your words again. Slower, clearer you speak.

“I have a cot for you. In the back, so that you can sleep.”

His face goes blank as he blinks at you.

He looked a bit like a 404 code in the flesh.

A small smile breaks across his face as color spreads up his cheeks.

“For me?”

“Well,” you tighten both arms around your middle as you reply. “No one else seems to pay me for the privilege of sleeping in my shop, so yes?”

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

You awkwardly stare at him. What do you even say now? Do you invite him to lie down? No that sounded weird.

“Do you-”

“Why don-”

You both started and stopped at hearing the other’s voice.

Spinning on your heel you turned towards the storage room, confident John would follow. Popping the door open you can do nothing more than point to the cot, still covered in tape from the store.

John slides by you, chest brushing your arm and shoulder as he does. If you have to fight back the urge to take a bite? Well, he would never need to know.

“I can set it up for you if you don’t mind?” John looks back over his shoulder at you.

Knowing you are beet red you can only nod.

“I bought it for you but didn’t get a chance to,” you gesture at it as if your vague motion will explain all your thoughts.

John’s smile, eyes crinkling and shoulders softening, melted your heart.

“I’ll take care of it and then take a good nap. My men have started to comment that I am nicer to them after I get a nap here.” He knelt, pulling out a pocket knife and slicing open the package.

“Your men?” You lean against the door frame, unabashedly watching. “What is it you do for work John?”

“Special forces, I’m a captain. I lead a group of myself and four other men.”

“Well, that would explain a lot of the smells.”

He looks up at you, brow cocked.

“Smells?”

“Like fire, gunpowder, sweat, sometimes fear.”

“You get a lot of smell knowledge here?”

“I get a lot of everything here,” you shrug, unable to articulate how no matter how clean a piece of cloth some lingering smells clung.

John turns back to his task. You spend far, far too long watching him. The way his shoulders dip and arms change shape as he uses them. When the cot is built and John stands he turns and catches sight of you, you give a panicked smile and flee for the counter where you had left the mask.

Slamming your body into your chair you turned on your ring light, pulled your black thread, and focused diligently on fixing the holes you had been asked to address. John did not reappear for nearly an hour. You had finished the mask sooner than that but had not yet found the fortitude to go and wake him.

The creases on his face matched the lines on the shoulder of his shirt, and the slight drool stain.

“Right on time?”

You smile and nod.

“Well let’s settle up and I will find a reason to be back in a few days.” John returns to the customer side of the counter, sure of himself and you.

“You don’t have to pay me to come nap if that is all you need,” you start.

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“My men are hard on clothes. If I can get you some business I feel less bad about using you for some shut-eye.”

Supposing you had to accept that answer you unlock your tablet and complete the transaction.

Once his card clears you pass over the mask.

“You’re jewelry box should be done by Christmas.”

He drops the statement as if he forgot to bring it up until now.

“Christmas should be fine, I don’t have many plans though I will be out of town the week of Christmas proper. I will be visiting my grandmother.” Paternal grandmother since your mother was not allowed to visit, but no need to mention that.

“We will have to find some time to ensure I can get you the gift then,” he smiled as he said it.

“I told you I would pay for it John,” you chide.

With a shrug, he tucked the mask into his pocket and stepped back from the counter.

“Can’t pay me for a Christmas present dove.”

With that, he waved and pushed through the front door.

“The hell I can’t,” you spoke to the empty shop.

Part 5

Masterlist

[fuck-customers]

Had a customer today order a strawberry doughnut (among a few others), and I know she said “strawberry” because it sounds nothing like “rainbow” and not even in the same way that “two” and “three” sound nothing alike yet I may still mistake them if the road is loud enough. It was “strawberry” —my boss heard her say it too!

I give her her order, she checks it over. “This is the rainbow?” Uh, what? I don’t remember her ordering one—I check my pad, there’s no rainbow, so either she forgot or I didn’t hear (it’s happened). “I got a glazed, a strawberry—” “That’s a rainbow.” All righty then. I take the box back, tell my boss the change, void the strawberry, and charge a rainbow. The difference in price is 95¢. I report this to the customer with an apology, and she does this little “Oh” (the little eye-rolling kind that could just be “Duh, me, would help if I got my wallet back out!” but in this case… probably wasn’t). She tells me she only has her card (we’ve got a card minimum of $3), and I wave her off since this is one of the cases we’ll waive the min, and accept her card.

She starts asking if there’ll be an extra charge for it only being 95¢, and I think she’s asking if the store will have to pay extra—we do, occasionally, get customers who are concerned about us. I don’t like speaking any more than I have to (I have speech issues, and talking takes a lot of breath and energy which I don’t always have), so I just shrug that off too since it’s nbd. She gets angry and starts yelling at me, and I realize she means will she for some reason have to pay more than the 95¢ I’m charging her, so I explain that it’s just the store, that the store has to pay a fee on all card transactions and for ones under $3 it isn’t worth it, but this is one of the situations we’ll accept it anyway. Thankfully, she seems mollified, and the remainder of the interaction passes smoothly.

But this isn’t the first time she’s pulled this shit, it’s just apparently the first time she’s actually had to pay for her upgraded doughnut, or at least the first time when she didn’t have cash.

Because when she did the “Is this the rainbow?” thing, my boss recognized her. She’ll come on Fridays, often during our rush so there’ll be a line of cars behind her, and she’ll order one doughnut and after paying claim she had actually ordered a rainbow. During those times, my boss will just hand her the rainbow doughnut no charge since she’s more worried about getting the line moving than about a single dollar. But after today my boss ain’t gonna let her get away with it anymore.

And like, seriously? Why the fuck would you do that at a small, one-location, family-owned shop? Go pull that sorta shit at a big chain. I thought everyone knew you steal from corporations, not local/ma-and-pa.

No but I hope I remember her next time I’m at the window when she drives up, so when she “conveniently” orders a cheaper doughnut instead of the specialty one she actually wants, I can sweetly ask her, “No rainbow today?” Unfortunately though, while I’m generally good at recognition, I’m shit at association. There are regulars who’ve been getting the same thing for years, and while I’ll recognize them as a regular, I still don’t know their order.

Posted by admin Rodney

[bubblin-trouble]

“Tell you a story? Well, of course I can, my dear! For the right price~”

“Seven stories, seven paths. Which one shall you pick?”

You’re wandering in the woods aimlessly, lost, in the depths of midnight. How did you end up here again? You can’t remember, it’s all so foggy, it’s so dark, you don’t know right from left or north from south…but wait, is that light in the distance?

Seeing no other option, you decide to venture towards it. Upon closer inspection as you draw nearer to this mysterious light, you find what looks like a tent. You smell the almost intoxicating air of incense being burned inside, and you can faintly hear someone humming. Surely, they’d let you in, wouldn’t they?

You decide to creep closer, hoping the stranger would offer you some protection from the night’s chill.

“Hello? Is someone in there…?”

“Oh! I’m comin’, give me a minute!” Came a voice from inside.

Just a few moments later, a woman emerged. Wrapped in black cloth as dark as the night itself, with purple as a stark contrast, and glittering with gold jewelry, her smile equally as bright.

“Ah, welcome, welcome, dear! Come inside, it must be chilly out there.”

She ushers you in, and you can finally take a good look at the tent, or the inside of it. It has an array of exotic things, all seemingly fantastic and unique in their own way. Some of the items make you wonder, how could this woman possibly have acquired these…?

“See somethin’ that catches your eye? By all means, take a look ‘round my shop, hun.”

The woman croons, sitting at some sort of table in the middle of the tent. Just how big was this place, anyway? It certainly didn’t look this way from the outside…

Then, you see a book. A story book, by the look of the cover alone. You start to reach for it, feeling as if it’s calling you…

“NO!”

Your hand jerks back at the sudden sharp tone of the woman’s voice behind you.

“This ain’t for sale, I’m afraid, darlin’…” the woman said, swiftly grabbing it and holding it in her hand.

“O-Oh…sorry…”

“Ah, no worries! How ‘bout this? I’ll tell ya a story or two — for the right peace. How’s that sound?”

You pause for a moment, unsure of what to think of this sudden arrangement. Last time you checked, you did have a good chunk of change in your wallet…a story or two couldn’t hurt, right?

“Uh, sure?”

“Wonderful! Now, sit down,” the woman said, ushering you over to sit at the table with her.

“What’s your name, Miss…?” you ask tentatively.

“Oh! Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? Well, the folks ‘round these parts call me The Storyteller. I guess that’s what you can call me, too, if you’d like.”

The Storyteller…why does that seem familiar?

You can’t remember, not now, in this moment, but something about this woman makes you feel like you’ve seen her before. Heard her voice.

“The Storyteller…alright, then.”

“Now that that’s settled, let’s begin, shall we? Ahem…Once Upon a Time, in a far off world from our own, there lived seven great beings...or so the masses thought they were.”

Came up with this idea after having a 20 minute crying session

This version of Calypso is called “The Storyteller”. Fun fact, this version of her is inspired by/twisted from Scheherazade, go look her up, she’s hella cool love her fr.

I wonder what that book entails…hmm…mysterious indeed…🌚

Basically — think of this version of Calypso as a narrator of sorts. Illuminating the stories of our beloved heroes and villains, making them seemingly come to life. With each story, the listener is finding themselves more entranced by each word.

But, how did she manage to get her hand on this book? It certainly isn’t one you’d find in a library. Well, the answer to that lies in the dark for now. Possibly to be answered later.

Erm lowkey should I make this a thing?? Idk it seems cool lol

Taglist : @nrc-asteryn-crew @night-raven-miscellany @nrc-ramshackle-prefect @floyd-leech-thing @knightcoree

[redneonmoons]

It’s God’s Will [Vash X Reader][2/3]

Word Count: ~2.4k Description: The gang wakes up after a night of celebration. Problem is no one remembers the night and there might have been a wedding? [Part 1] [Part 3]

“Huh?” you said, opening the envelope and pulling out a group of photos.

“Your marriage,” he clarified before heading to the backroom.

Oh. As expected all the photos were from last night, most you assumed between the hours of one and five. And almost all were of that wedding you dreamed of which made your heart ache. You picked up an image of Vash kissing your cheek as you showed off your ring to the camera.  You wished all of this wasn’t some weird alcohol-induced scenario. You really felt bad for Vash. He doesn’t even know what happened but you still felt selfish holding onto this night. Shaking your head, you focused on what images you could show the rest of the group. 

You picked out all the photos of the group still at the bar and a few from the wedding that weren't obvious, like Meryl taking a pic of herself downing a large glass of booze and Wolfwood getting shoved into the confessional by you and Meryl. You took a look at all the photos, at some point Vash had the camera and a lot were of you. There was a series of the camera getting closer and closer until you started shoving the camera back, laughing. 

You glanced around the counter and picked up an additional envelope and put the separated photos into them. Stuffing the envelopes into your pack, you exited the store and looked around for any sign of the children and Vash. You saw a group of children run around a corner and you jogged over hoping they would lead you to Vash. 

You kept a reasonable distance behind them as they weaved through the streets. Eventually, you spotted Vash and the increasing gaggle of children looking at a window display As you walked up, you realized it was a pawn shop. You looked into the display to see Vash’s arm front and center.

“Uh,” you didn’t know where to start.

“I can’t even afford my own arm back,” Vash sadly laughed, “Look at how much they want for it.”

You glanced at the price tag, “Six thousand double dollars?!”

The children were starting to get annoyed about the lack of ice cream and made their complaints known, grabbing onto you and Vash’s shirts.

“We need to get Wolfwood to see this,” you said before turning to the children, “Alright guys, you did a good job. Let’s get that ice cream.”

The children immediately grabbed your hands, dragging you to the nearest dessert shop. Vash followed, laughing. 

Your wallet was much more empty now that you fed a town’s worth of children. You stared at it sadly before tucking it back into your pack.

“Did you find anything else from the photos?” Vash asked, he was carefully holding both your cones in one hand.

You took yours, “A lot of the photos didn’t show up but it seemed like we went to the church and continued to party there.”

“That’s weird,” Vash said, sitting down on a bench and eating his ice cream.

You joined him, “Agreed, all things currently point to Wolfwood.”

You both continued to eat your ice cream as the children scattered. They had their treats so they were done with you and Vash.

“I wonder if he sold it or traded it for something,” you voiced your thoughts; something in the back of your mind was telling you it had something to do with the rings.

Vash hummed, finishing his cone before turning to you, “We should find him.”

You sighed, not exactly wanting to deal with the nosey priest, “Alright.”

You both got up and started back to the hotel. On the way, you passed by the truck, finding Meryl and Wolfwood packing. Well, Meryl was packing; Wolfwood was leaning with his cross on the vehicle, smoking.

“Hey, guys,” Vash waved, walking over.

“Did the photos help?” Meryl asked, shutting the back door.

“That depends,” you said, pulling out one of the envelopes and showing them the photograph where the undertaker had Vash’s arm, “Want to explain how Vash’s arm wound up at a pawn shop, Wolfwood?”

“What?” Wolfwood grabbed the photo, pulling up his glasses to see better.

He started laughing as he handed it to Meryl. She also burst out laughing.

“You two are so cute,” Meryl commented on you and Vash.

You hoped your blush wasn’t as obvious as Vash’s.

“Do you remember why my arm is in a pawn shop?” Vash said.

Wolfwood shrugged, “Can’t say I do.”

“C’mon then, let’s see if the shop owner knows anything,” Meryl said, already heading in the direction of the pawn shop.

You and the others followed. Vash grabbed Wolfwood’s arm, “They want six thousand double dollars for it. How are we supposed to afford that?”

“I must have got a shit deal then if they’re charging that much,” Wolfwood replied, adjusting his cross.

“Surely you woke up with something you don’t remember having,” Meryl said.

“Nope.”

“That’d just make it harder to get my arm back,” Vash whined.

“We’ll figure something out,” you encouraged.

Vash pouted but didn’t say anything else.

Wolfwood, Meryl and you entered the pawn shop while Vash pressed his forehead and hand against the glass, staring at his arm, sadly.

“Hello, name’s Lukas. How can I help you?” a young man greeted.

“Hi,” Meryl walked up to the counter, “We were wondering if one of us might have sold that arm to you last night?”

“Yeah, the priest,” Lukas pointed at Wolfwood.

The undertaker shook his head and muttered, “Oh great,” before walking over to the counter, “So, obviously I was drunk last night and can’t remember a damn thing but that’s my friend’s arm so we’re going to need it back.”

Lukas crossed his arms, shaking his head, “No can do. Unless you have what you traded for it, I can’t just give it back.”

“Look, he’s practically crying,” Wolfwood gestured to Vash at the window.

“I think he is crying,” Meryl whispered before heading out to comfort Vash.

“Sorry, you have to have the rings,” Lukas continued unbothered.

“Rings? I don’t have any damn rings on me,” Wolfwood replied, leaning on the counter, “That’s your town’s savior out there, are you really going to hold his arm hostage cause I may or may not have bought rings?”

Wolfwood then turned to you, “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Nope,” you lied.

“LUKAS DAMON GRAYSON!” an older woman’s voice shrilled from the back, coming closer when the woman herself walked into the room, “Did you swindle someone else again?”

Lukas immediately paled, “N-no, I was just helping business.”

The woman, who seemed to be Luka’s mother, put her hands on her hips, “Oh? And how much were those rings worth?”

Lukas looked down and muttered something.

“What was that?” Lukas’s mother cupped her ear, leaning toward her son.

“Four hundred double dollars,” Lukas still mumbled but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I knew you ripped me off you little weasel,” Wolfwood dropped his cross, leaning it against the counter threatenedly.

“You don’t even remember it, drunkard,” Lukas quipped back.

You instantly held Wolfwood’s arm as he tried to vault over the counter. Lukas’s mother grabbed Lukas’s ear.

“This is why I told you not to open shop so late at night. Now give these nice people the arm back,” Lukas’s mother let go of her son and he scurried over to the window case.

You saw Vash’s face light up as he saw Lukas take out the arm and the blonde quickly ran into the shop, grabbing his arm from Lukas.

“I'm sorry for the trouble my son caused,” the woman said, “Don’t worry about those rings.”

“Rings?” Vash looked up from analyzing his arm.

“Nothing,” you said, a bit too quickly before grabbing Vash’s arm and dragging him out of the shop, “Let’s get you put together.”

You found a bench outside and held Vash’s sleeve up as he set his arm in, stretching out his arm and individually moving his fingers to make sure it was fitted properly. You pulled out the envelope of non-wedding photos and handed it to Meryl who was leaning forward on the back of the bench.

“Most of the photos didn’t show, but it looks like we crashed a church,” you said.

Meryl opened the envelope and pulled out a couple of photos, showing them to Wolfwood who was next to her. You pulled out the rest yourself and handed them to Vash. you watched over his shoulder as he went through them. One was of Wolfwood tripping Meryl, the photo captured just as she was falling mid-scream. Another featured you hiding in Vash’s coat with Vash holding his arms up, well one and a half arms. Vash giggled at that one as Meryl and Wolfwood were laughing behind you at the photos they were sharing.

“Looks like a wedding,” Wolfwood casually commented.

You hoped no one noticed you flinch.

“Are you still hungover, what are you talking about?” Meryl questioned the undertaker.

A week passed and the townsfolk have given you all a vacate house to stay in until you decided to leave. The house only had three bedrooms which Wolfwood had decided you and Vash would share one while he and Meryl got their own. Vash was quick to offer himself the couch for your comfort but you couldn’t allow it. It’s not like there was only one bed anyway.

You and Vash split the room, similar to how your original hotel room was set up; you got the right side and Vash the left. It was midday as you sat on your bed, looking out a window. Vash was playing with the children somewhere in town and Meryl was writing reports in her room. You didn’t know where Wolfwood went, but he was probably keeping an eye on Vash.

You had bought a lock box for the rings and photos and had tied the rings to a string to keep them together. The box laid on your lap as you shifted through the photos, a habit you had picked up. You let yourself roughly once a day pretend it was all real. Of course, the action always made you feel shameful and selfish but you couldn’t help yourself, let alone forget that night. You were sure the others knew about the box, but they haven’t come up to you about it and you had no plans on answering any questions they may ask.

“Hey, Y/N,” Meryl walked in without knocking.

You dropped the photos you were holding and slammed the box shut, locking it with your key.

“Yes?” You asked, clearly spooked and flustered.

Meryl just eyed the box before looking back at you, “We’re going out for lunch, coming?”

“Yeah, give me a second,” You said, getting up with the box in hand.

“Uh-huh,” Meryl left, shutting the door behind her.

You knew Meryl was eventually going to ask you about it. You put the box in a drawer and hid it under some spare clothes. You kept the key on a chain that you put around your ankle. Grabbing your boots from the other side of the room, you put them on.

You met the others outside, Vash had come back from playing with the kids with Wolfwood in tow. The undertaker had his cross over his shoulders as usual.

Vash had his ever-present smile as he turned to you and waved before Meryl pushed through everyone and started to lunch, “C’mon, I'm starving.”

Wolfwood followed, leaving you and Vash behind.

“Where did you go?” Vash asked, walking next to you.

“I needed some quiet time,” You answered, noticing how Vash’s hand brushed against yours as you walked.

When his hand touched yours again, you just opted to grab it, “How were the kids?”

“They never seem to tire,” Vash replied. You can see how exhausted he was from all the running he was doing.

The group made it to the restaurant and sat outside on the porch area. Vash sat to your right and Wolfwood on your left, leaving Meryl across from you. The waitress grabbed your drink and food orders and it didn’t take long for said food to arrive. The group happily indulged themselves, not really talking as you focused on the food.

You were about to take another bite from your sandwich when you had a strange feeling wash over you like you were being watched. You looked up to see Vash turn an unnatural color.

“I don’t feel g-” Vash’s eyes unfocused as he started to wobble in his chair.

“What?” Wolfwood said before gunshots fired behind you and the undertaker.

You and Meryl rushed to Vash’s side, both grabbing an arm.

“Oh great, it’s those losers again,” Wolfwood said, before unraveling his cross and pulling out a handgun to fire back, “Go get Vash to help, I’ll take care of the gang.”

You and Meryl lifted Vash up and went to the town’s hospital. Vash was still semi-conscious as you dragged him through the streets. Screams and gunfire could be heard as you turned corners.

You felt Vash get heavier, “Hey, stay with us.” Vash groaned in response but became more conscious.

“There is no way Vash getting ill all the sudden isn’t a coincidence,” Meryl said, readjusting Vash’s arm on her shoulders.

The three of you finally made it to the hospital; the gunshots were distant now as you pulled Vash inside, yelling for help. Nurses flocked over and they took him to the doctors while you and Meryl were questioned by another nurse.

“We think he was poisoned,” Meryl said.

You felt your hands starting to clam up. You’ve been with Vash to know he constantly got into trouble and hurt like this but that never stopped your anxiety from spiking in these moments. Your logical side was fighting your very, very emotional side as you tried to convince yourself that Vash will be okay. What if you don’t get to tell him? Your brain always asked that question when he got hurt.

“Y/N!” Meryl brought you back to reality, shaking your shoulders, “C’mon, let's get a seat.”

“What about Wolfwood?” you asked, he might need help.

“I’m here dummy,” Wolfwood said, there was blood on his clothes but with the way he was standing, his cross slung over his shoulder, you figured it wasn’t his.

You all were taken to a waiting room while the doctors treated Vash. You tried to distract yourself by reading a newspaper but you couldn’t focus on the words and instead slammed it back on the table. Your leg bounced while you fidgeted with your hands.

“Jesus, relax will ya?” Wolfwood said, “Vash is tough.”

You glared at the undertaker, annoyed, “I know.”

[Part 1] [Part 3]

[blazehedgehog]

Got a top 5 or 10 most wanted Fortnite skins?

I've been playing Fortnite regularly since 2019. I've had every Battle Pass since Chapter 2. I get free currency daily for having a Fortnite Founders Pass (hence why I have every Battle Pass).

I am drowning in so many skins that the 100 locker presets Epic gives you is nowhere near enough. Every time I get or buy a new skin, I have to make the hard decision of what I can safely replace.

It actually genuinely influences my spending habits because I'll think, "I've wanted this guy for a long time, but I don't feel like deleting anything for him."

If you mean: are there any skins not in Fortnite that I really want? I don't know if I can answer that. Partially because of what I just described, but partially also because of "Santa's Lap Syndrome" where I'm sure I've said "oh I want that in Fortnite" but now I cannot for the life of me remember a single thing.

Following through on Samus would be nice, I guess. It seems like she was really close to releasing and then got held up at the last second. There's a fair amount of evidence in her favor (but this post is long enough as it is), and I was all prepped an ready to buy her back when I thought she was right around the corner.

As for skins already in the game, I can just skim a list to tell you that.

Envoy. She's priced cheap and I think she's cute.

I'd love to have Calamity, but she's a battle pass and as such will never rerun. She's just a cool cowgirl and has lots of alt styles.

I've come very close to buying ISO and her male counterpart. They're actually in the shop as I'm writing this. FIGHTING POLYGON TEAM

Sandshark Driver reminds me of Gum from Jet Set Radio. That's enough for me.

Mezmer is another guy I've come EXTREMELY close because I think his mask is rad.

I think Peekaboo's juggalo/goth clown alt is hilarious but I've never been able to bite the bullet and buy her.

The Joker is fun but he's always a real money skin and he's only sold in a pack with other stuff for like $30. Barf.

Mariana looks super cool but I wonder how visible she is at night.

Trog was a Battle Pass skin so he's gone forever.

I like Errant because you can apply gun wraps to his armor, giving him hundreds of customization options. But I own another skin that functions somewhat similarly.

Silver Surfer just looks cool.

I have Deadpool, so the other X-Force members just make sense, like Domino and Cable.

I regret not being on the ball enough to get this Playstation Blue variant of Versa. (it was free for PS+ subs) Vanilla Versa is definitely a "one day when I have enough vbucks to spare, I'll buy her."

The Classic Storm Trooper is also just a good in that "I always had this skin in Quake 3" way.

Blackheart is another Battle Pass skin I would die for. Blackheart/Blakebeard is one of THE best characters in STW, Fortnite's campaign mode. AND HE HAS GHOST PIRATE STYLES

Dire is yet another Battle Pass skin I missed. He was the Halloween skin one year and is basically just a cool werewolf, and you can toggle how far in to the transformation he is.

Spider Knight is just a cool looking... uh, Knight. Really, I also want his glider, which is a giant flying black widow spider. But the skin looks great, too.

I've come very close to buying Ghost Rider.

I've waffled back and forth on Rustler because I don't know how much value there is for me personally in just going "hur hur it's my little pony." It's still funny it exists, though.

I've thought about getting the OG Beef Boss, but I already own a couple of other variants, so it's less important now. Same for Tomato Tom.

They put a freakin Gundam Wing parody (Sentinel) in the Battle Pass and it is maybe my #1 regret not having it.

Sometimes I want Crackshot, but I have a friend who uses him pretty often, so it'd be kind of weird? (Another STW all-star character)

When I first started playing, Moisty Merman was the top of my most-wanted list. Now I've wondered if I still care.

Deadfire is in the same camp as Calamity as far as "cool cowboys" go, but this guy is also a phantom cowboy. Double cool!

Order Remnant is the same category as Envoy where he's not very expensive and I just like the way he looks.

Madcap is a fun concept for a character and I like his colors.

A World War 1 gas mask guy is a weird thing to see in Fortnite, and that's the entire reason I want Sky Stalker.

I don't like Chiara's default (with the silver paint), but I love her alt.

I didn't love Kill Bill, but something about Siren is still cool.

Taskmaster is like The Joker where I'd like to have him, but he's in an expensive real-money pack and no thanks.

Eternal Voyager was a Battle Pass skin from the season before I started playing regularly and he's awesome. That skull alt...

...Honestly? That's a lot more than I expected. And I'm probably forgetting or missing some. For comparison, here's a (also probably incomplete) list of all the skins I already own.

If I had to boil it down to a top ten most wanted, I'd say: Chiara, Versa, Mezmer, Ghost Rider, Sky Stalker, Taskmaster, Madcap, Deadfire, Domino and ISO, I guess.

[deeisace]

Alright.okay so the more typing uh

I'll just start at the beginning will I

Two people come in the shop, after a giant lockable bag, basically, and a lock, cs they wr charity workers? As type stands in the street nabbin y I assume, they need a lockable bag to tie to a lamppost

Anyway. One of them (short rainbow hair) was um. V flirty. Aaand I. May just have had my brain melt out my ears, for all the good I was, I'm not used to it! But I um I was very. Back. I suppose. Certainly v obvious, I'd've thought.

Anyway she (I'm assuming rather, tho I spose I oughtn't) was chattering along doing silly voices, same as I do, and saying like oh I should stop doing that - I can't remember what I said back, my brain having vacated the premises entirely - but she wanted something little to tie the bag's clip together? And I was like, oh! I might have something! My pocket, I always keep the little fabric ties we take off the trousers? And that did suit well. But also just in the handful I took out a,, ring? That I'd found like in a delivery tote the other week? And I don't wear jewellery really so it just stayed in my pocket, and I'm avoiding saying the next bit now because I've gone all silly again oh good grief

Basically she saw the ring and held her hand out all expectant, so I,, was a bit autistic about it,, and then was like oh! Okay! And tried the ring on the hand she's held out?? And it didn't fit, it was too big, so I put it back in my pocket

Then I was like, oh wait yeah I'm still at work, fuck, and told them about how the prices work (store members get sale prices), and she said oh my ex might have one but would she get an email to say I've bought something on her card? I'm like no but we can try it, or I'll just mash some till buttons get it cheap as I can for you -

So I did that, basically, and she's like so what's your favourite animal? And my brain has disappeared, as I say, so I flap a bit, and then say alpaca? And she says alright can I borrow some receipt paper? So I give her some, and she stands for a while, while I serve other people and her mate's left the store already

And she finishes whatever she's doing, and says thank you for sorting the price out for us, and asks my name and shakes my hand, and then gives me a cartoon alpaca she's just stood and drew? For me?? And I'm like (because my brain's gone) "oh my god that's so lovely of you I might actually cry" and she says something like "oh don't do that, come here gorgeous" (what!!) and hugs me (!!! not one single brain cell remaining)

And then goes, and my work friend comes over and is like, she was flirting with you!! What did she draw for you, you know her friend left ages ago?

And I'm like, I know! I know!!!

WF goes, so did you get her number then? Did she sign up for a card, have you got her email?

And I'm like, no!!! I fucked it, I completely fucked it, I messed with the till so she didn't have to get a card, all I know is (that above) and her name is JJ and it's her first visit to Liverpool

And she's like, oh but she might've signed the drawing, might've left her number there? Or we can use it to look her up on Instagram?

- no dice, obviously, tho I don't really know how Instagram works, WF had a go

WF going on about "the proposal", I'm just like,, completely broken with steam coming out my ears, basically, because this. Doesn't Happen. Ever. (ASM chips in - after literally fanning me with sale tickets, I was blushing that much - that "obviously it does, cs it just did")

And every time I managed to regain a braincell and stop blushing, I had WF asking when our coffee date will be, and what am I gonna wear, an all this, and saying if she knew I was letting her go like that, she would've come over earlier and 'intervened', and she made me promise to go and look for her down the high street - if she's a charity worker, she'll be on the high street, right? (WF and ASM both like, you haven't got anything to lose! You only live once! You have to try!! This might be the best thing to ever happen to you! - me, all beyond jumbled and blushing still, like, hmmmmm if you say so, but I think I've fucked it, she's gone, so what can I do?)

But I did go down the high street, up and round the way just in case, because I did promise, but there weren't no sign, and I'm home now, so there's that I spose

But like. If my life is suddenly now run by romcom rules (it's definitely not, because that's not a thing) then she'll be in again sometime, right? Ha!

Anyway, here's the cartoon alpaca,

I'm. I'm gonna make a tea. And. And. Idk. How does one regain a lost brain? Help.

Well fuck

Not 24 hours post saying oh yeah I'm gay, find myself flirting with a, well I assume a lesbian

[peachsteven]

Soaked

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Warning(s): none

Summary: A rainy day doesn't seem so bad anymore after meeting one of the sweetest guy ever.

Word count: 749

A/N: this is like my second ever Tumblr published fic so I hope you like it. Also English ain't my first language so please excuse any mistakes made. Request or prompt is open, so let me know if you have any. Other than that, enjoy!!!!

Other stories

A sort of continuation of this.

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

"Well, I don't think this day could get any worse" I said as I tried to shake off the wetness of my coat under the awning of a café. It was supposed to be a sunny day - at least that's what the morning forecast said - but the patters of the rain proved otherwise. The sight of people running back and forth with scowls on their faces, trying to find shelter amused me. At least I'm not the only one disliking the weather of London.

The incessant buzzing of my phone took me out of my stupor. It's Emily.

Crap

I accepted the call and even before I put it on my ear, I can already hear her asking of my whereabouts.

"Class starts in about 5 minutes and I'm still outside waiting for you."

"You can just go ahead, I don't think I'm gonna make it on time," I sighed.

She didn't even try to hide her anxiety as she heaved a breath. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Professor Dee has been giving you the side eye every time you do something, even when you flip your papers. And to be honest since this is like your fifth time being late, she's probably gonna do that every time you breathe!"

"I think that's not the only reason why she's starting to dislike me. Remember my last paper?"

"The one I copied?"

"Yep, she probably thought– no, still thinks that I'm the one who copied yours," I chuckled halfheartedly. I was about to continue when I felt a hard bump on my shoulder. It was hard enough to make me drop my phone and from the impact it endured, I'm pretty sure the screen's broken, again.

"Nope, I was wrong," I bent down to pick it up and I was correct. Spider web like pattern painted the screen, as if Spider-Man himself had personally shot his webs on my phone, "this day really could get worse."

I was about to glare at the direction of the person who had bumped into me when I heard pleas for forgiveness from the legs which I now noticed were standing in front of me.

I stood up and was now faced with a man who looked like a soaked, kicked puppy. Brown eyes were actually pleading for forgiveness and timid posture that made me feel bad for planning on glaring at him. He was handsome too, there was no denying in that. Just looked like he could use some sleep.

"I'm so sorry, I was running, y'know, looking for shelter, with my bag on my head and I wasn't looking around properly and I bumped into you," he breathlessly said, clutching on his bag.

"It–"

"Oh no, your phone looks broken - uh - I know a place where they can get it fixed for a good price but uh, I don't have their number. Maybe when the rain stops I can take you there," I nodded and stared at him for a moment, waiting if he was going to speak again before I start.

"That would be great, thank you," I smiled, chuckling at his adorable ramblings. He looked confused for a second before his lips turned to morph a smile. One of the most adorable smile I've seen in a while.

We stood there for another couple of seconds, smiling at each other before he broke the silence. "Uh– how about I buy you coffee, also to make up for bumping into you."

My smile grew.

“Ah sure we can have a coffee date.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes grew as wide as a plate and his face turned as red as a tomato. His grip on his bag loosens until it almost fell from his grip but he caught it at the last moment.

“A d-date?! No, I don’t mean it like that.”

“Ah, don’t be shy now. Besides, you still have to bring me to that repair shop, you know.”

I reached out a memo-pad and write down my number

“Here's my number. I'm running late to class so we’ll have to meet up on a later date.”

I continued to dash away but was stopped by the sudden calling.

“You haven’t given me your name!”

I shouted my name as loud as I can. "What's yours?!"

“Steven Grant!”

“Nice meeting you, Grant. See you soon!”

Dashing through the falling waters, I couldn't help but think that maybe this day wasn't so bad after all.

[gaybananabread]

For the Tickletober requests, maybe 16 for lee Dipper and ler Wendy? (Platonic) Hope you’re doing well and take all the time you need! 💖

Of course! I love this request, and I had fun answering it! I hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆

Lee: Dipper

Ler: Wendy

Ship: None!

Summary: During one on their movie nights, Wendy discovers something more about her best friend.

Warnings:  none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

It was Friday. And Friday always meant a movie night with Wendy. Since they had started to hang out, Dipper had come up with an idea to watch the crappy movies that Gravity Falls offered, together. They would spend hours laughing and poking fun at the films, and just having fun.

This Friday, they had chosen to do a comedy marathon in the Mystery Shack. The two had claimed the TV room, and the others were out working the gift shop. Belive it or not, Stan actually gave them the Friday off. Even though Stan said he did it because Dipper had 'Less friends than a squirrel with a peanut allergy', Dipper knew that he cared about him.

When Wendy arrived, the two raided the kitchen, grabbing popcorn, Pitt Cola, and a bag of Mabel's gummy koalas (don't tell her). They plopped down in front of the TV, flipping it to the Comedy Channel.

The first one was about this man's wife who got turned into a skunk. She had sprayed him, then took a tomato bath together. Both Wendy and him immediately critiqued it, making fun of the robotic voices of the actors, as well as the horrible plot line. It ended with her turning back, and the couple founding a skunk ranch.

The second started out with two animated best friends who lived in a small town. They liked to pull pranks on eachother, each one getting worse until they got out of hand. At one point, the friends had a tickle fight, and Dipper blushed a little. Whenever tickling was even mentioned around him, his cheeks flushed pink.

Wendy looked over at him, watching the blush slowly creep on his face. She put two and two together pretty quickly, wondering how she didn't notice before. Whenever she poked him to get his attention, he would flinch pretty hard. She always thought he was jumpy, but maybe it was more than that.

"Hey dude, are you ticklish?" The question surprised him, making Dipper let out a faint squeak before answering. "W-what? Pshhhh, no, I'm not tciklish! What would make you think that?"  He meant for it to sound confident, but his voice came out nervous and high.

She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe the fact that you got all squirmy and blushy when the tickle scene started?" Dang it, Dipper! Why couldn't he just sit still and watch like a normal person?!

"That doesn't mean anything! How about we watch the movie? Isn't that why we're here?" Wendy rolled her eyes. Could he be any more obvious? "Uh, no way, man. I gotta try this."

With that, Wendy grabbed the brownette's arms, not enough to hurt him, just to restrain, and pinned then above his head. He immediately started to squirm and beg, anticipatory giggles weaving into his words.

"Cohone on, Wendy! This ihisn't fair!" She scoffed. "This is perfectly fair. You lied, now it's time to pay the price." Lightly tapping her fingers on his sides, she thought about where to start. So many options, and so much time to try them! They had at least another hour, though she definitely wouldn't go that long.

Dipper shook his head, pulling down on his arms with little-to-no force. If he was being completely honest, he didn't mind the tickles. It was just the anticipation that was killing him!

"Wohohould you just doho it already?" Wendy looked down at him, taking in the wiggly sight. Dipper's face was red, spreading lighting to his ears. She giggled a bit to herself, but she was being kinda mean. Plus, he looked like he was about to explode from the waiting.

"Okay, okay. Byt remember, you literally asked for it!" She scittered her fingertips across his belly, immediately rewarded with sweet and airy giggles.

"Wehehehendy! Ihihihit- ihihihit tihickles!" He was squirming a bit more than before. She rolled her eyes. "That's kinda the point, dude." The gentle touches had already started to mush his thoughts, which made Wendy want to squish him like a teddy bear.

"Okay man, you have to admit, I just started, and you already look freakin' adorable. It must be your special gift or something." She didn't show this type of affection much, except for around her friends. She reserved her more 'girly' feelings for the people she trusted and loved.

"Nohohot adohorable! Noho teheheasing!" She moved her hands up to his ribs, switching from light touches to kneading. Dipper started to laugh, arching his back a bit. "AHAhahahahA! WeheHEhendyhy! Ohoho MYHYHY GOHOSH!"

The boy bucked his hips as she hit his top ribs, trying to dampen the ticklish shocks running throughout his torso. It did little to help, but he had to try something. Wendy stayed on that spot for a few more seconds, before beginning to move her fingers upward. His laughtrr got louder, along with his begging.

"WEHEHEndhy nohoHOho! NAHAT thehe PIHIHITS!" She stopped right before the base of said spot, swirling her fingers teasingly. Dipper giggled frantically, trying to throw her off of the spot, but just managing to give her more access to it.

"You ready?" He shook his head wildly, steams of 'no's and 'please don't's pouring out. Even though he said he wasn't having fun, she could see the giddy  excitement in his eyes. He wanted this, and she was more than happy to give it to him.

"Go!" She dug into the hollows of his pits, and he screeched,  before pulling and tugging at his arms, thrashing around like crazy. His laughter was borderline hysterical: happy, fast, and loud. This was obviously his death spot.

"Wohow, you are REALLY ticklish, dude." Wendy's little comments weren't making things any better. "IHIHIHIHI *snort* CAHAHAHAN'T! NOHAHAHAHAHO!" Wendy stopped, staring at him in playful amazement. "No way! You snort? That's so freakin' cute!"

The blushy boy tried to catch his breath, groaning and trying to hide his head in his shoulder. Wendy would definitely stop soon, she just wanted to try one more spot.

"You got enough air to not die?" Dipper groaned, making her laugh. "I'll take that as a yes." She put her hand on his neck, and he shrugged up his shoulders, letting a small stream of giggly 'no's spill from his lips. But Wendy didn't resume the tickling.

"Hey, Dipper, are you sure you're cool with this? I'll stop if you want me to." Said boy turned his head forwards, looking at Wendy. "Ihi, um-uggghhh. I don't- don't really mihind it. Youhu can- uh, you know."

He was avoiding her eyes, looking all around the room, blushing so hard, he matched the color of Stan's fuz from the neck up. She beamed at him, happy at the trust he showed in telling her that.

"You got it. One round of neck tickles comin' right up!" She let go of his wrists and used both her hands to scribble down his neck. He was thrown into hiccup-filled giggles, and practically melted into the touch. Wendy actually cooed at the sight.

"Ehehehehehehe! *hic* Whehehendy!" He lightly batted at her hands, scrunching up his shoulders, but overall just enjoying it. True, he was still Mega embarrassed, but Wendy was nice and understanding. It made things so much better and so much worse all at the same time.

She experimentally scratched at the shell of his ear, eliciting a squeak from the boy. Now craving the awesome sound, she focused mainly on his ears. For two whole minutes, Dipper Pines was a human squeaky toy.

Deciding that was enough, she went from scratching to rubbing his ears, trying to calm the tickly shocks running through them. Thirty seconds later, and he had gotten the last of his giggles out. He sat up, face still blazing. "Th-thanks Wendy. That was fun."

She playfully elbowed him. "Anytime, nerd. You really are super cute when you laugh like that. Try doing it more often." He shrugged, and ater a water break,, the two went out into the gift shop to greet the others.

"Hey kids. Sounded like you and Dipper had fun." In seconds, his face was back to red. Mable, Stan, and Wendy all laughed, Dipper joining in at the last minute. "Hey, next time you do it, invite me! I know all sorts of fun tickle-spots on this dork!" Mable punched her brother's arm, and he shot her a non-threatening glare.

"Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather just have a snack and go to sleep." Stan passed his some crackers and cheese, while Wendy grabbed her things. After she had pulled her boots on, she walked over to Dipper, rustling his hair.

"I'll see you tomorrow for work. Maybe next Friday, I can try some of those secret-sister-spots Mable was talking about." With that, the red-head walked out the door, leaving a blushy Dipper and two smirking relatives behind her.

[waitineedaname]

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 4

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @justine-en @iwillstaywiththemforever @weirdgirlfromtx @edlothia-baby @soul-end @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy

Author's Note: Some of y'all didn't tag so see if that's something on your end. Enjoy the angst and cliffhanger! -Thorne

Wally didn’t come into the coffee shop for almost two whole months after their fight—not that she blamed him—she was still vaguely upset with his harsh words. But she had to admit that she’d gotten used to his warm presence every morning, and not seeing him messed her up more than she thought it would. More often than not, she found herself absentmindedly staring at the door, waiting for him to walk in with that stupid grin on his face and proceed to boast and recall whatever exciting exploits he and his friends had accomplished earlier. It hurt not to see or hear him, and she realized that Wally had become the greatest friend she’d ever had.

Barry still came in though, and if he knew who she really was, he didn’t say anything because he still acted like he always did. So, even if Wally were still angry with her, at least he’d kept his word and not said anything to anyone about her identity. Which if she were honest, tasted bitter when she thought about the price she paid for his silence—his friendship.

It was getting colder again, which meant a lot more people were coming and going from the shop, so at least she could take her mind off her feelings for at least a few hours. Until she got home, and all she was left with were them and a whole lot of silence to think about them with. Sometimes she thought about calling Wally, at least to hear his voice. Hell, even if their last words to one another were frigid, she missed the interaction. She’d give anything to hear him, even taking another round of cold snipes and trades.

She heaved a sigh and wiped down the last few tables of the evening rush, smiling politely at the people who were still sitting at tables or so across. Today had been hectic and there’d been no let up of customers until the last hour of the shift. She’d never thought they’d run out of coffee, but it came close to that a couple hours ago.

The bell above the door chimed and with her back turned to the entrance, she didn’t see who came in, but with another barista at the counter ready to take the final orders of the evening, she didn’t particularly care. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Sleep until hell froze over. That, or until her feet stopped hurting—whichever came first. She let out a quiet laugh that made her chest ache—Wally would’ve found that absolutely hilarious and probably shot back about how if anyone had the right to complain about their feet hurting, it would be him. God, she really missed Wally.

“Melisandre,” someone called quietly, and she glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening when she saw the familiar red head behind her.

Speak and the Devil will appear.

“Wally,” she breathed, voice thick with shock, and before she could stop herself, she was throwing her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

He returned her hug in fold. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who missed this,” he quipped.

She huffed a laugh and pulled away. “Believe it or not, it doesn’t feel right when you don’t come around.” Her eyes narrowed almost sadly. “I’ve missed seeing you, Wally.”

“Same here,” he replied, then glanced at the clock above the espresso machines. “Are you almost off? I want to take you somewhere.”

Nodding, she took a look at her watch. “I get off in about ten minutes. Can you wait that long, or will you perish from boredom?”

“I think I can survive ten minutes, Melisandre,” he retorted and collapsed into one of the booths. “Hurry though, I don’t want to be late.”

She rolled her eyes and deadpanned, “Wally, I can’t speed time up. That’s not how that works.”

“Works for me.” He proudly stated.

“I wonder why?” she retorted sarcastically, then gave him a smile before wandering off to clean the last tables.

***

Despite the fact that Wally could run anywhere he wanted in less than a second, he still owned a vehicle and that was downright baffling in her opinion.

“Dick got it for me.” He suddenly said, shifting the car into drive and she blinked internally wincing at the mention of her brother.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t, (Y/N). But you were thinking it.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted and crossed her arms over her chest. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Knowing you? Probably food, I know you like to ea—” he dissolved into laughter when she reached over and shoved at his side.

“No, I don’t you ass.”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember the time I took a fry off your basket and you looked at me like I’d killed your favorite dog.” (Y/N) glared at him and he pointed at her. “Yeah, that’s the look right there.”

“I don’t like sharing my food,” she said. “You should’ve known better.” Her eyes drifted to the windshield. “So, where are we going?”

“S.T.A.R. labs.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow and stared at him. “Really? S.T.A.R. labs? What’s there?”

Wally shrugged. “Wanted to show you a bit of what it’s like to be me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you came to see me after all this time and the first thing we’re doing is going to a lab so you can show my what you do?”

His gaze momentarily darted to hers. “Is that a problem?”

“I dunno, I just figured we’d go eat a diner somewhere and apologize to each other.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Are you sorry? For all of the last three years?”

“Not particularly,” she griped, and he shrugged again.

“Then I’m not sorry for what we said to each other that night.” he let out a sigh. “But I’m willing to let it go, because I’d rather us just have a disagreement than lose what our friendship over it.” he looked at her. “What do you say?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment, then she sighed and nodded. “…Yeah, I agree.”

Wally smiled. “Good.” He turned the wheel and pulled into the parking lot of the lab. “But there is food there for us, so you’ll be satiated anyways.”

“Hardy har har. Shut up, Wallace West,” she shot back, climbing out of the car. Her eyes traveled up the tall building. “Wow, this place is huge, isn’t it?”

She felt him stand next to her. “Yeah. Did you know they had to replace the glass windows a whole bunch of times because Barry and I kept shattering them when we’d run up ‘em?”

(Y/N) blinked, unsurprisingly stating, “No, I did not. But I can see that happening.”

He started towards the doors, leaving her to follow and soon they were stepping into an elevator. She watched him hit the rooftop button and she looked at him.

“If you’re showing me what you do, why are we going to the roof? Shouldn’t we be going to some laboratory inside?”

Wally chuckled. “Patience, young padawan.” He ignored her rolling eyes. “Food first.”

“Oh, dinner in the moonlight? Well, aren’t you just the romantic.” (Y/N) cocked her elbow on his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me all that time we spent away from each other?”

This time, he was rolling his eyes. “Hardly, (Y/N). I just figured you’d want a nice evening where you weren’t staring at your bland kitchen walls.”

She scoffed and pulled away from him. “Look, I’d paint and hang shit up but the landlord wouldn’t be happy.”

“Since when do you care about making people happy? You’re typically a ‘I’m going to make someone unhappy’ type of person.” Her eyes shifted to his and he waved a hand. “Not what you’re thinking about—I was talking about the coffee shop.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then she hummed. “There’s nothing more fun than telling someone I’m going to get the manager and then do my magic little spin and cheerfully greet, ‘Hi, I’m the manager’.” She grinned. “Does wonders to see Karen’s little head explode.”

Wally chuckled and the elevator dinged. The doors split open, and they walked out onto the rooftop. Surprisingly, the roof was enclosed and lighted, giving her perfect vision and when her eyes fell on them, her heart seemed to stop in her chest, and her feet to a halt.

They stood from the table they’d been sitting at and with her heart hammering against her ribcage, she immediately spun on her heel, intent to flee back into the elevator, only to come chest to chest with Wally, who wrapped his arms around her waist—effectively keeping her in place.

Her feet were still moving on their own accord and she shoved against his chest, trying to get back to the lift. “Wally, move.”

“No, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she could feel her breath starting to come in and out in panicked spurts.

“Wally, please, I’m begging you, move.” She stared up at him and plead, “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything, just please let me leave.”

His evergreen eyes were narrowed in pity, but there was a firmness that rested within that pity and he shook his head. “I can’t let you leave, (Y/N).”

“Wally, please,” she begged, arms starting to go limp against his chest, the tears flooding her vision. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You’ve gotta stop running, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her, and she rested her cheek against his chest. “I hate you…so much.”

“I know,” he murmured.

“You’re a liar and I hate you.”

Wally sighed. “I know you do.”

(Y/N)’s face contorted in anger despite her pain. “I should’ve left the night we fought. I knew you wouldn’t be capable of keeping it from him. From any of them,” she sneered and suddenly pulled away from his grip, eyes flashing with rage.

“This wasn’t your right to tell!” she shouted at him and shoved him in the chest. Wally didn’t budge an inch and she shoved him again. “God, I was so naïve to assume you’d keep your fucking mouth shut! That’s one thing you’re not capable of doing!”

She growled and turned from him, running her hands over her face. “Three years of relative peace shot straight down the fucking drain,” she shot him a teary glower. “All because of you and your big bleeding heart for your best friend.”

Wally frowned. “I’m doing what I think is best, (Y/N).”

“Forcing me to meet them isn’t what’s best, Wally! I didn’t want to be found! I didn’t want to be associated with them again!” she snarled and in an instance her anger cooled, her shoulders drooping as she lamented, “…This wasn’t a decision you should’ve made. This was never your right to decide. For me…or for them.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But if you weren’t going to draw the line in the sand, I was.”

(Y/N) met his gaze and held it for a long moment, then she turned her attention to the four men who were standing in front of the table, their expressions a mixture of regret, anger, and relief.

She let out a long sigh and reached up to rub at her temples. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to leave until we’ve had our picture-perfect reunion scene?”

Wally nodded. “The elevator is sadly,” his hand shot backwards and with a sharp crackle of lightning, the light went out. “out of order.”

(Y/N) shook her head in disappointment at him then declared, “The next time I run, I’m settling in a city that has no superheroes.”

“Good plan,” he quipped. “But I don’t think there’ll be anymore running.”

She got up in his face and hissed, “Then you underestimate my feelings regarding the brothers and father before me.”

[sunshineandaisies]

What’s in the Box, Peter?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader 

Words: ~1.7k

Warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy

Note: Happy Mother’s Day to all the baby mommas, the fur mommas, the plant mommas, and all the momma’s in between! 

Ever since you started dating Peter during your freshman year of college, you always spent Mother’s Day with him and May. 

Of course, you always had the customary FaceTime call with your own mother but with the prices of plane tickets constantly increasing, going home to spend the day with your family just wasn’t possible when all your money went towards rent and school expenses. 

So spending the day with Peter and May became tradition, and quite frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

May Parker had practically inducted you into the family after only a few months of dating her nephew, and she was the very definition of what you thought motherhood was all about. She was understanding whenever Peter found himself in trouble - whether it be as Peter Parker or his masked superhero alter ego - and she was always willing to lend an ear whenever you or Peter needed to rant about something (even if it was about each other). She worried about Peter - of course she did - but she let him have his space to make his own mistakes and learn from them. 

She may not have been Peter’s actual mother, but damn did that woman deserve the best Mother’s Day that you and Peter could muster.

You’d stayed at May’s apartment the night before rather than at yours and Peter’s apartment on the other side of the city to save yourself the commute in the morning, and you were infinitely glad that you’d done so. An extra hour of sleep was definitely worth you and Peter squeezing into the small bed in his old bedroom. 

Peter still woke up early, though.

He always did, unable to really sleep in the days leading up to Mother’s Day. He grew restless and quiet, and you didn’t need to ask to know why. 

He pressed his lips to your cheek before he left for his visit to his mother’s grave that morning, his jacket tugged on to protect himself from the early morning chill and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He whispered a promise of coffee when he returned, and your appreciation for him doubled in an instant.

By the time he returned, you were busy making pancakes and humming along to the song on the radio while May tittered around the kitchen despite your insistence that she let you take care of making breakfast.

It was her day, after all.

“Good morning,” Peter greeted, pressing a styrofoam cup into your hand. He pressed his lips to your temple before greeting May with a hug and wishing her a happy Mother’s Day. He set a small, wrapped box down on the counter, making you cock your head in curiosity.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at the box in question with the spatula. You were sure that you had already gotten May a Mother’s Day gift. In fact, you had wrapped her gift yourself the night before. Had you forgotten something? 

“Just a Mother’s Day gift,” he replied vaguely, a smile curling his lips. “You’ll see after breakfast.”

Your gaze kept flitting back to that mysterious little box as you finished stacking pancakes onto a large plate, as you filled three glasses of juice and set the table, and as you and Peter caught May up on all of things that you had accomplished over the course of the last semester. You were just barely managing to contain your curiosity enough to actively keep up the conversation and not be rude, and Peter wasn’t helping any. 

The way that he seemed extra fidgety and the way that his gaze kept flitting to you more than usual while he talked to May about his plans once you were both finally done with grad school had you wondering if you did something wrong or even worse- if he was planning something that you didn’t know about.

Oh, God. Was he going to propose?

Outwardly, you were smiling brightly and nodding in agreement to what Peter was saying about your plans for the summer, but inwardly, you were panicking.

You loved Peter, you really did, and you’d be happy to marry him. Just not now. You’d had the discussion about marriage over a year ago, knowing that you both wanted it at some point, but you and he had both agreed that marriage was off the table until you were both done with school. You both had at least one year of grad school left, and that was only if you - ever the academic - decided to not continue your education with further certification. A proposal was at least a year away, so long as Peter adhered to the agreement you had made nearly two years ago.

You cleared the table with lightning speed once everyone had finished with their breakfast, wanting nothing more than to know what Peter was hiding. You retrieved May’s gift from Peter’s bedroom and placed it in front of her while Peter held onto the small mystery box, his fingers flexing and unflexing nervously. 

Jesus Christ, you were about to implode from impatience and anxiety and-

“This is so cute!” May exclaimed, holding up the small succulent in a pot shaped like a dinosaur. “Did you find this at that shop on 47th?”

“I think so?” Peter looked to you for confirmation, but you only shrugged in response. “Y/N picked out most of the stuff in there. She has a better eye for things than I do.”

“Peter did pick out the wine, though,” you pointed out, nodding towards the fancy bottle of white wine that had cost more than your electrical bill last month. “I will, however, take credit for the plant and the memory foam slippers.”

You shared a small smile with Peter as May looked over her gifts happily. “This is so sweet. Thank you.” She leaned across the table and pulled your both into as tight a hug as she could manage with a table in the way.

“Happy Mother’s Day, May,” Peter told her, and the few happy tears she swiftly brushed away with her thumbs didn’t escape your attention.

“Happy Mother’s Day, May,” you repeated, feeling so incredibly grateful to have May in your life. “You literally deserve the best Mother’s Day for putting up with this guy for most of his life.” You gently nudged Peter in the side with your elbow as you teased, chuckling as he rolled his eyes at you while struggling to fight back an amused smile.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, and it only made you and May laugh harder. “You both love me.”

And suddenly your laughter died as your attention was dragged back to that mysterious little box, now pushed in front of you by Peter. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you,” he answered as if it wasn’t already blatantly obvious.

“I get that, but why?” You observed the small gift nervously. “It’s Mother’s Day, Pete, and I’m very much not a mother. Not unless you count being a plant mother. You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“What?” His face twisted in confusion, brows knit together and lips slightly parted. “You don’t know? I thought you knew.”

What the hell? Your brows knit together as you looked from Peter to May, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Know what? I think I would know if I was a mom, Peter.” You let out a breath and started to pull at the wrapping paper. “I mean, thank you for the gift, but this was really unneces-” Your words died on the tip of your tongue as you saw what was tucked neatly into the small box.

You lifted the mug from the box, staring at the words written across the front in pretty pink script. 

‘Happy (Expectant) Mother’s Day’

You blinked, too confused to speak.

“I thought you said she knew,” you heard May whisper to Peter.

“I thought she did!” your boyfriend whispered in return. “I thought she was waiting for today to tell me!”

You finally snapped out of your trance, placing the mug down on the table and turning to Peter. “Can you please explain what’s happening?”

After a beat of silence, he answered, “You’re pregnant.”

You snorted in disbelief. “I think I’d know if I was pregnant, Peter.” You took a second to mentally count the days, and your heart began to beat erratically once you realized you had been so busy with final papers and projects to remember when your last period had been. Well, shit.

“You are,” he said confidently. He draped an arm around the back of your chair before taking your hand in his. “Some nights, when it’s really quiet, I can hear the baby’s heartbeat. Scared the hell out of me when I first heard it.” Instinctively, your hands dropped to your stomach, cradling it tenderly. Leave it to your boyfriend to find out you were pregnant before you did thanks to his hyper-senses. “I thought you knew and you were planning to tell me today, you know, because it’s Mother’s Day.” He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously, his gaze flitting to May before he met your eyes again. “I, uh, realize now that you didn’t know.”

“We’re gonna have a baby?” He nodded, lips curling into a smile. “I’m gonna be a mom?” Another nod. “I thought you were gonna propose! I was so nervous!”

“I mean, I can still do that if you want,” he offered, a mischievous twinkle in his chocolate eyes.

“No!” you exclaimed. “I think one big life change is enough for today.”

You shared a soft, sweet kiss with Peter before turning your attention back to the mug on the table. Your fingers curled around it, holding it gently in your hands as you stared at the words again and a smile tugged at your lips.

A gentle hand on yours called your attention away from the mug and to May. The older woman was smiling widely at you and her nephew, i she’d tears glittering in her eyes. “Happy Mother’s Day, Y/N.”

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test. 

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react. 

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Take it Like a Man

read it here or on ao3 !

Taako’s sprawled on the couch, mindless reality TV quietly accompanying the reading he desperately doesn’t want to be doing, when the front door opens. His eyes dart up for a moment to see Kravitz trudging into the apartment, backpack slung over a shoulder. His eyes are tired, his locs are tied back in a bun, and Taako swears that he’s been wearing that old sweatshirt from high school for the past few days. Seeing Kravitz sheds his bag and shoes, Taako tucks his legs under himself to open a spot on the couch for his roommate, who flops down unceremoniously in the empty space.

“Rough day?” Kravitz scrunches up his nose and glances at Taako, taking a moment to think before answering.

“Not really? I mean, usual long day: boring classes and shitty customers who think that I have any pull over the prices at the bookstore.” Taako snorts, knowing that the first few weeks of the semester always seemed to be hell for Kravitz. Though, Kravitz has always said he’d take that over the near constant bullshit Taako went through at the campus coffee shop.

“Okay, then why the glum face, my man?”

“Well, you know the symphony in Goldcliff?” Did Taako ever. Kravitz had drug him to dozens of their shows over the last three and a half years. They weren’t the worst things in the world but if Taako was being honest, he thought all the performances sounded the same. Not that he’d ever tell that to Kravitz, the man who was consistently moved to tears by the orchestra, often before the first movement was over. He nodded. “They’re holding auditions next month for a summer guest conductor and there’s a chance that that could turn into a more permanent position.” Taako sits up and tosses his book aside.

“Holy shit, Krav, that’s literally your dream!” Despite Kravitz’s plan to teach music to middle schoolers once he graduated, he’d often confided in Taako that conducting a real orchestra was his true passion. In fact, that was one of the first things Taako had ever learned about him. Although considering that he learned that freshman year when Kravitz had been holding all the utensils in the shared dorm kitchen hostage while drunkenly conducting his even drunker friends to play “My Heart Will Go On” on recorders and novelty children’s keyboards at two in the morning, he’d half-hoped that the man was kidding. However, Taako had since learned just how deeply this passion ran for Kravitz.

So that’s why Taako just can’t wrap his mind around why Kravitz doesn’t seem excited. He nudges his friend with his foot and makes a gesture, as if to say out with it. Kravitz sighs and scrubs a hand down his face.

“It is my dream. In such a huge way. But I think that’s the problem.” Taako cocks an eyebrow and says nothing. “Well, I’m worried about the audition. And I really wanna make a good impression because what if this is the only chance I’m gonna get? I already know it’s a longshot, I haven’t even graduated yet.”

“I can help you practice or something. I gotta admit, I still don’t entirely know how you prep for an audition like this but I’ll do what I can, man.” Kravitz lets out a melodious laugh.

“I appreciate that, Taako, I do. I think this is just something I have to do on my own.” Taako glances over Kravitz for a minute.

“Hey, Kravitz? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but what’re you going to wear?” Kravitz looks over at Taako, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Uh, I haven’t really started thinking that far ahead. Kinda more focused on not bombing my audition.”

“Oh, natch, but you know what they say about making a good first impression.”

“Okay. Um, how about the outfit I wore for that ushering gig I had last year?” Taako scoffs and brings a hand up to his mouth.

“You mean the scratchiest white button-down shirt in the world and your black slacks that have a bleach stain on the waistband?” Kravitz’s face falls.

“Oh man, I didn’t remember it being that bad.”

“It wasn’t bad for the job you were doing but I’m of the mindset that if you look good, you feel good. You should go pick up a suit or something.”

“I really don’t wanna go shopping, though,” Kravitz groans dramatically. He turns to Taako, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Can I just borrow something of yours?”

“Oh sure man, take a suit you’ll swim in, you won’t look like a kid playing dress up at all!”

Kravitz frowns. “Well, can’t I just pin it up or back or something?” Taako vehemently shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. First off, you’re not leaving a bunch of pinholes in my nice clothes. Second off, you’re a big boy now, you need to have like, one good outfit.” Kravitz’s frown practically melts into a pout which only makes Taako laugh. “It’s gonna be fine. Tell you what, I’ll go with you. Might not be able to help you practice but I can help you not look like a schlub.”

“You’re killing me, Taako.” He grins wickedly.

“I don’t think retail therapy’s gonna kill ya. Could be wrong though.” Kravitz rolls his eyes but smiles softly. Taako glances at his abandoned book, then at the TV, then at Kravitz. “Whaddaya say we just rot our brains for a little bit? You look like hell and the last thing I feel like doing is reading anymore Durkheim.” Kravitz mulls this over for a moment.

“You know, I really shouldn’t,” he says reluctantly, though he makes no move to get off the couch. In fact, he reaches over and grabs the large throw blanket they keep on the couch for this express purpose. Taako grins and grabs the remote before stretching his legs out and across Kravitz’s lap. Kravitz drapes the blanket over the two of them and they spend admittedly far too long debating whether Tyra Banks could conceivably be convicted of human rights violations.

Kravitz wakes on Friday and immediately wants to go back to bed. He genuinely contemplates it for a moment before he hears Taako milling about the kitchen. Kravitz sighs and reluctantly drags himself out of bed, padding into the kitchen. Before Kravitz can fully slip onto a stool, he’s slid a mug of hot, sweet coffee that he nearly drains in a moment. After Kravitz appears to come alive, thanks in no small part to the coffee, Taako immediately launches into conversation.

“Hear me out. I know you said you just wanted a quick shopping day today and I get that, but there’s this really neat vintage store in Rockport that has a ton of like, formal options. Even stuff that you might actually even like.” Kravitz wrinkles his nose at that; the thought of him actually enjoying any kind of formalwear is earnestly laughable to him. He’s a man of comfort, first and foremost. But Taako looks so earnest and excited that any and all protests about driving to a town nearly two hours away for clothes that Kravitz knows he could find in town die in his throat.

“Okay, fine. But you’re driving.” Taako sucks a breath in through his teeth, grimacing apologetically.

“About that.”

“What?”

“Apparently if you don’t pay your parking tickets, they can suspend your license! Is that bullshit or what?” Kravitz holds his face in his hand, peering at Taako through his fingers.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“That’s what all my exes say!” Kravitz fights laughter as Taako looks entirely too proud of himself.

“So,” Taako pauses the playlist he’d managed to beg Kravitz to let him play after he got antsy listening to Kravitz’s current podcast of choice. “Is there like, a specific uniform that most conductors wear or uh is it pretty freewheeling? Your exit is in four miles, by the way.”

“Mmm, I suppose everyone kind of wears what they like, within reason. Always super fancy, usually just a simple suit or tux, but I’ve seen some pretty eccentric ones. You could check out some pictures or something.” Kravitz puts his signal on and begins changing lanes, fingers tapping on the steering wheel all the while. Taako lets out a laugh, clearly having found pictures of conductors.

“Man, some of these peoples legit look like wizards or something. It’s really cool, actually.” Taako pokes a finger into Kravitz’s shoulder. “You’re gonna look that cool!” Kravitz smiles weakly.

“Don’t start counting your chickens before they hatch, Taako. I have a lot of competition.”

“Actually, I’m counting your chickens. But I believe in you, dude. If anyone can get this gig, it’s you.” Taako reaches his hand out and gives Kravitz’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Kravitz glances over at Taako for a moment and sighs.

“Wanna turn your playlist back on?”

“Sure! Any requests?” Kravitz thinks for a moment and then bounces a little in his seat, smiling.

“Uh, what about that one French song?” Taako looks at him, dumbfounded.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s the one where she talks about like, winning big in Reno, I think?” Taako snorts and scrolls until he finds “Comme Des Garçons.”

“If you’re gonna have good taste, you’ve got to actually remember the songs you like, dork!” Kravitz grins at him.

“But then you couldn’t get an ego boost every time you remind me of simple things.” Taako rolls his eyes and cranks the volume, singing along with the song to keep him from grinning back.

Taako’s wandering around the vintage store, breathing in the slightly mildewy air, snatching up items that he thinks might suit Kravitz when he suddenly realizes that he’s lost track of his friend. He stands up on his tiptoes and looks around until he sees a familiar head of hair sitting on the floor between some racks of slacks. He walks over and sits down next to Kravitz, momentarily discarding the stack of clothes in his hand.

“What’s up?” Kravitz looks up at Taako and shrugs.

“Dunno. I don’t want you to have to go to all this effort just for me, especially if I don’t get the gig.” Taako rolls his eyes and gently shoves Kravitz.

“I don’t wanna hear all this insecurity, my man. I get being nervous but you gotta use those nerves to motivate you. And besides, this isn’t a chore for me, it’s fun.” Kravitz’s eyes might as well go as big as saucers.

“How?” His voice is dripping with horror-tinged awe. Taako can’t help but laugh.

“I think it’s just fun seeing what a little change to someone’s outside can do for their inside,” he says, standing and extending his hand. Kravitz takes it and helps Taako retrieve the myriad of items that got scattered. He eyes them curiously; there’s a wide variety of garments in all kinds of colors and materials. He rubs the hem of a deep red jacket and is delighted by how soft and smooth the material is. His face quickly heats up when he realizes that Taako is watching him intently, a small smile on his face.

“Should I go start trying stuff on?”

“Yeah, let me get in there first and kinda put some different options together that way you’re not flying blind.” Taako quickly leads him to the dressing room and spends a minute putting a few ensembles together before moving to sit on a funky ottoman near the mirrors.

Some outfits Kravitz vetoes almost immediately. A silver, sequined jacket that Kravitz claims makes him look like Liberace (“He’s great, just not my style!”), a dark green dress shirt that’s too tight on the shoulders, and a lilac suit all end up on the cutting room floor. Kravitz is partial to a couple of different pieces that Taako claims are entirely too loose and make him look like the ghost of a Victorian orphan. He’s really fond of the dark red jacket he was thumbing over earlier but it’s apparently vintage silk and comes at a vintage silk price that Kravitz’s bookstore job can’t quite cover.

Eventually, Taako and Kravitz both take another lap around the store, realizing some things that Kravitz likes and things that make him feel particularly comfortable.

Taako rushes over to a rack and pulls a black jacket with beautiful gold swirls embroidered over the entire garment. In an instant, he also pulls a black button-down and black slacks. He pushes the pieces into Kravitz’s hands.

“Try these on. I’ll meet you over there in a minute, I have to run and pee.” Kravitz chuckles but obliges as Taako returns into the bowels of the store.

Taako returns to the dressing room to see Kravitz poking his head out of the curtain, a wide grin spanning his face. Taako raises an eyebrow.

“Well, come on hot stuff, let’s see it!” Kravitz shoves the curtain open and Taako lets out an involuntary gasp. Kravitz looks amazing. And it’s not the outfit, Taako realizes as he watches Kravitz conduct a phantom orchestra in the mirror. Rather, it’s how confident and happy he looks. Taako is not so vain to think that appearances are everything but he’s always noticed that this kind of confidence and joy can completely transform a person. And that’s precisely what he’s seeing happen to Kravitz. This change warms Taako like a blanket fresh from the dryer. Kravitz whirls around to face Taako. He strikes a pose to make Tyra Banks proud.

“What do you think?” He wiggles his eyebrows at Taako expectantly.

“You look incredible, Kravitz,” Taako breathes out quietly, a small smile pulling at his mouth.

“I really do, don’t I?” Taako scoffs and shakes his head.

“And you’re so modest, too!” Kravitz pops back into the dressing room to get back into his comfortable, familiar clothes.

Kravitz is checking out while Taako is rifling through the bowl of rings by the register. He quickly accumulates a small handful of gold and silver rings and sets them on the counter after Kravitz concludes his purchase and exits the store. Moments later, Taako exits the store, stacking silver rings on his hand. He stands expectantly in front of Kravitz.

“Hold out your hand.” Kravitz furrows his brow but obliges. Taako makes quick work of placing a scattering of gold rings on Kravitz’s fingers. “I figured they could act as some good luck charms! And besides, they’re gonna pull the outfit together.”  Kravitz smiles warmly at Taako.

“Wow, Taako, that’s realty thoughtful of you. Thanks.” Taako shrugs and clicks his tongue quietly.

“Don’t even make it a thing, cha’boy loves giving gifts, you know that. Now, how about we grab some lunch before we head back?”

Kravitz reaches a hand over to Taako’s plate, trying to snag a fry. Taako swats his hand away with a laugh.

“Taako, I can’t thank you enough for all your help today.”

“Krav, babe, don’t even thank me. I just wanna make sure you’re going to be at the top of your game for this audition.” Kravitz smiles but seems far away, lost in thought. “Okay, what’s up now?”

“It’s just weird. Like, this summer, I could be off in Goldcliff, living my dream. And that’s a really neat thought but it would also be the first time in four years that I wouldn’t spending the summer with you.” And it’s true. Since their fateful meeting freshman year, the pair had been basically inseparable; moving into the apartment they lived in now after the end of freshman year. This connection had been especially beneficial for Taako who had been feeling extra lonely since Lup went off to a super ritzy, prestigious, private university on a full academic scholarship. Taako was no idiot but he couldn’t have come close to getting enough scholarship funds for that school. The separation had been really hard at first but Kravitz made it easier.

Taako realizes that he’s not given that part of this whole thing a lot of thought. His stomach drops and flips violently, though he chalks that up to the greasy food. Now is not the time to get moody about this, dingus, Taako thinks to himself. He plasters a smile on his face instead.

“Well, think about it, you get this swanky job, I have a cool couch to crash on in a fun city the whole summer!”

“Yeah, but a city six hours away.” Taako’s stupid stomach twists again.

“We’ll be A-OK, Kravvy, dontcha even worry.”

During the weekend of the audition, Taako’s on pins and needles. He wants nothing more than to be there with Kravitz, for moral support, but he’s picking up several extra shifts at work instead. He keeps glancing at his phone despite the cold glare of his manager; Kravitz had said he’d text Taako afterwards and Taako is well aware that Kravitz’s audition isn’t until six but he can’t help but feel on edge. It’s killing him that he can’t be there for him right now and that he won’t see him until tomorrow but Taako soothes himself by simply sending Kravitz a ton of good luck texts mingled with memes and other shit he hopes would make Kravitz laugh.

It’s three hours later when Taako finally gets word from Kravitz.

Krav: well

Krav: that’s done and over with.

Taako: how’d it go???

Krav: i have literally no idea

Taako: im sure you did great!

Krav: well im glad one of us thinks so

Taako: it’s all gonna be fine, babe, you just gotta have a little faith in yourself

Krav: yeah, maybe

Taako: buck up, my dude! i’ll see you tomorrow and i’ll cook up something good for dinner. sound good?

Krav: yeah, that sounds nice

Taako: well, rest up. i’ll see you tomorrow. love you man

Krav: love you

Taako frowns but continues his shift, thinking about what he could whip up that would cheer Kravitz up. He settles on chicken and dumplings as he mindlessly slings coffee to already over-caffeinated freshmen and anyone else who happens to be on campus on the weekend.

Taako climbs into bed early that night, exhausted from the double shift he worked. He’s been asleep for a few hours when he hears his doorknob turn. His eyes widen and he immediately reaches out to his nightstand, clambering around for something to make him feel less defenseless. Which is how he finds himself sitting up in bed, brandishing a small flashlight at Kravitz. The two men blink at each other for a minute. Taako finally lowers his flashlight and lets out a quiet laugh.

“Kravitz, what’re you doing back? I thought you were staying with a friend?”  He glances over at the clock on his nightstand. “Dude, it’s 3 AM, did you just get back?” He scoots over in bed and pats the spot he was just sitting in. Kravitz crosses over to the bed and sits down. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, instead just leaning against Taako’s headboard. The moonlight streaming through cracks in Taako’s blinds give the men just enough light to see each other.

“I was gonna stay but the thought of staying in Goldcliff tonight just made me sick. I slept on my friend’s couch for a few hours but I felt terrible so I drove back. I feel like I bombed the audition. I feel like the one chance I might ever have at this might have just slipped out of my fingers.” Taako shakes his head.

“Okay, what makes you think it went so bad?” Kravitz shrugs. Taako reaches over and taps his shoulder twice, silently asking him to lean forward. Kravitz obliges and Taako begins running his dull nails in slow, wide circles through the thin material of Kravitz’s night shirt. He’s spent more than a few nights doing this for Kravitz in the past; often it was one of the only things that could calm him down to a point that he could sleep. Usually he only needed it during particularly stressful times, though Taako mentally counts this as one of those times.

“You ever just get a rancid vibe from something?” Taako quietly hums in agreement. “Well, it was like that. Everyone was really nice, they actually complimented my outfit before my audition started, so you should be proud.”

“And I am.” Kravitz lets out a tiny laugh.

“I think they could see that I was nervous which only made me more nervous. And I think my form was fucked. My elbows were too stiff and I just felt terrible.”

“I think you’re just being too hard on yourself. You may have thought your form was off but I bet they thought you were doing something really innovative and cool.”

“Taako… I was really nervous.” His hand goes still on Kravitz’s back for a moment.

“Oh no, don’t tell me.” Kravitz’s shoulders slump.

“I did the fucking accent. My stupid fucking nervous accent, Taako, how do I come back from that?” Taako does his best to stifle a laugh. Evidently, Kravitz had adopted a nervous habit in his childhood where he just puts on a heinous approximation of a Cockney accent when he’s nervous.

“Well, maybe they thought it was charming!” Kravitz lets out a heavy sigh and slumps into Taako’s side. Taako slips and arm around Kravitz’s shoulders and pulls him in closer for a tight hug. He can feel Kravitz relax in his arms.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Kravitz asks in the smallest voice Taako’s ever heard.

“Of course, man,” he murmurs softly, releasing his grip on Kravitz.

It wasn’t the most unusual request. There’d been several occasions in their friendship where one of them had needed a bedmate for a night. Taako had gone through a particularly rough break-up freshman year with his boyfriend from high school and he’d found himself slinking down to Kravitz’s room, three floors down for companionship. Kravitz had failed a midterm that put his honors standing in jeopardy in sophomore year and he’d climbed into Taako’s bed for comfort. Just a few months ago, Taako found himself in Kravitz’s bed on the tenth anniversary of his Auntie’s passing. They both just understood that some nights they needed tangible reminders that they weren’t alone.

Kravitz climbs under the covers at Taako’s agreeance. The two wordlessly lay down and Taako resumes scratching gentle circles in Kravitz’s back until they both fall asleep.

A few months pass and Kravitz is in the living room in the process of filling out job applications for positions to teach music in various schools when his phone buzzes. Taako’s standing in the kitchen, stirring a large pot of chili.

“This is him. Mmhmm. Right.” Kravitz’s eyes widen alarmingly and Taako turns the burner off, moving to stand in living room, watching Kravitz. “Really?” He lets loose a laugh. “Really? Huh. Okay. Um. Right. Yeah, that could definitely work.” Kravitz is grinning at this point and Taako is absolutely still, trying to ascertain what’s happening. “Okay, that sounds great. Yeah, that’s my email. Okay. Okay great. Thank you, thank you so much. No, thank you! Bye!” Kravitz puts his phone down and stares at Taako for a minute. His eyes are shiny and Taako can feel himself holding a breath.

“What is it?” Kravitz stands up and raises a hand to his mouth.

“Taako. I got the conductor spot.” Taako’s jaw drops and he is immediately rushing over to crush Kravitz in a vice-grip of a hug.

“Kravitz, holy shit!! That’s incredible, I’m so fucking proud of you!” Taako releases Kravitz from the hug and takes his face in his hands, eyes roving all over his friend’s now-teary face. “I knew you could do it.,” he murmurs quietly. He feels Kravitz’s face heat up in his hands, suddenly realizing he’s been holding him for what might be seen as too long. He drops his hands.

“Taako, I’m so happy. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Dude, this was all you, don’t even.”

“I dunno, they did think my suit was pretty nice.” Taako laughs and walks over to the fridge. They’d been squirreling away a decent bottle of champagne for an occasion for a about a year and Taako could find no better occasion than this to pop the cork.

Kravitz follows his lead and pulls two wine glasses out of the cabinet. They quickly toast and get to work on the bottle. They both feel as bright and bubbly as the champagne in their glasses.

They’re both seated on the floor of the kitchen, bottle of champagne 3/4s of the way gone when suddenly, Taako rushes to his room and disappears for a few minutes, returning with a gift bag. He sits back down beside Kravitz, who furrows his brow. “What’s that?”

“Well, I kinda got you a ‘congrats-on-the-job’ gift before you actually got the job. I just knew you’d get it and I wanted to be able to help you celebrate.” He holds the bag out to Kravitz and smiles nervously. “You can go ahead and open it now, if you want.”

Kravitz removes several pieces of tissue paper before just staring into the bag, dumbstruck. He reaches a hand into the bag and rubs at something, jerking his hand back as though something bit him. Taako’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when Kravitz looks back at him, a mix of confusion and something else on his face; his eyes grow shinier.

“Uh, hey Taako?” Kravitz’s voice is shaky. “What the fuck is this?” He sets the bag down gingerly as though it contained a glass bomb. Taako shrugs, trying to look casual.

“I know you loved it so much and you looked great in it and it just felt like it should have been yours. You’re so special to me and I just wanted you to have something special.” Kravitz blinks at Taako and looks back in the bag before reaching in and pulling out the contents; Kravitz holds the dark red silk jacket he had coveted several months ago. “Besides, conductors need to look cool.”

Kravitz shakes his head, doing his best to keep the tears in his eyes in his eyes. “Okay, but this was fucking expensive, how did you even come up with the money for this?”

“The sales clerk let me do a little layaway situation and I picked up extra shifts. It’s no big thing, Krav.”

“It’s a very big thing. This is the single nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Taako. Ever. In my entire life.” He picks up his glass and drains the remaining champagne. Kravitz contemplates his empty glass before turning his attention to Taako who flushes slightly under such sustained evaluation

“Really, Kravitz, I just wanted to do something nice for –“ Taako’s cut off by Kravitz, who is holding Taako’s face and is kissing him like a frantic, desperate man. Taako and Kravitz had kissed a few times before; usually at parties or to sell the idea that they were a couple so they could reap the benefits of the couples package at their local wine and pottery place but those had only ever been quick, chaste pecks. This is something entirely different. Kravitz is kissing him like it is literally a matter of life and death. Taako melts into Kravitz’s touch. He only realizes in that moment just how long he’d been wanting this; obviously he loves Kravitz but Taako knows that at some point, that love had transitioned from the love he feels for all his friends into something longing and aching. The love Taako feels for Kravitz is akin to the pain one feels with a broken rib; sharp, attention-grabbing, and all encompassing.

Taako’s hands find Kravitz’s arms easily and he holds tight as though he’d float away otherwise and he’s thinking of just how easy and right this feels. Kravitz is so kind and caring and loves him too. And is graduating and moving six hours away in a month for the job of a lifetime while you don’t have any marketable skills and no job prospects, a voice in the back of Taako’s head says. He tries to shove it away but suddenly it’s all he can focus on, mainly because it’s right. Taako abruptly pulls away from Kravitz, who seems to chase Taako’s lips for a moment. Worry must be clear as day on Taako’s face.

“Taako, what’s wrong? Did I overstep? Because I just felt that –“

“No. No. you’re fine. It’s just um.” Taako bites on his lip for a moment, thinking of how he wanted continue. He lets out a sharp, nervous laugh. “Heh, uh you don’t have to like, do this. Really, like it’s a gift, no exchange necessary.”

Kravitz looks momentarily horrified. “Wait, no that’s not what this is! Taako, no, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, this isn’t because of the jacket.” Taako looks down and nods, feeling Kravitz’s eyes practically burrowing a hole in his face.

“Well. This seems like a pretty shit time.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re graduating? You have the opportunity of a lifetime and you’re moving soon and I’m just some asshole with a fucking BA in sociology.”

“And? None of that matters! Obviously I’m taking the job but… why don’t you come with me?” Taako glances back up at Kravitz. “We can find a little apartment in Goldcliff and I can do my conductor gig and you can explore all the options you have!! You could teach or go to school for something else or do literally whatever your heart desires. Let me support you like you always support me."

“Krav, I’d just cramp your style.”

“No, Taako. I feel like my life is finally starting to come together and I can’t imagine a scenario without you in it. You always push me to be my best. You understand me in a way nobody else can. And you’re the most amazing man I’ve met in my life.” Kravitz reaches out and takes one of Taako’s hand in both of his. Taako doesn’t say anything for a while.

“Tell you what. You know how your conductor gig is kinda like a trial run?” Kravitz nods, gaze still locked on Taako. “Well. What if we take this summer as a trial run? Because I really, really like you, Krav. But I don’t want either of us to have to make major sacrifices or permanent compromises just yet.” Kravitz nods and smiles a little.

“I think that could work.”

At Kravitz’s first concert, it becomes pretty clear that all his trial runs are likely going to turn into something a little more permanent. He enters the stage in that deep red, silk coat and stands in front of his music stand. Taako claps raucously, causing a little shudder of laughter to surge through Kravitz while earning Taako the ire of nearby patrons.

Kravitz seems like he was born to do this; he holds the baton with a kind of self-assurance Taako hasn’t seen from him before. And he is incredibly skilled. The Goldcliff Symphony might already be a world-renowned group, but when Kravitz commands them, they transform into a living wave of music that crashes through the large citadel.

Taako finally understands how these symphonies can move Kravitz to tears.

Later, Taako is schmoozing a guest at the large reception being thrown in Kravitz’s honor. Turns out the guest does nonprofit work for a pretty incredible program for troubled children. Taako is slipping her business card in his pocket with a smile when Kravitz appears behind him and give him a quick peck before introducing himself. With his arm around Kravitz , Taako gets the very distinct feeling that he could happily live like this for the foreseeable future.

But, rather than fixate on the future, Taako finally finds himself at ease in the present.

[bixiebeet]

Bugs and Chocolate: A Valentine’s Day Short Story

A fluff, feel-good Ghostbusters fic. Janine and Egon ship. Approximately 900 words. Coming soon to Ao3.

Egon couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated Valentine’s Day. Maybe in third grade, when he gave a classmate a colorful bug trapped in a jar. She didn’t like it. That was the end of the holiday for him.

Nowadays, he was most excited for the post-holiday candy sales, which had become his annual ritual. He even figured out that some stores slashed prices on February 14. Egon woke up early on this Valentine’s Day, eager to formulate his shopping plan. Would he start with big supermarkets, which had the widest candy selection? Or would he try independent stores, which had higher-quality chocolates? Decisions, decisions.

First, Egon went to check his planner in the lab. Then he’d stop by Janine’s desk to retrieve the store circular ads from the newspaper.

He was surprised when he reached his desk. There was a red paper bag with a card. ‘Dear Egon. Thinking of you. Love, Janine.’ Inside was a heart-shaped candy box, adorned with Snoopy wearing sunglasses.

What a pleasant surprise. No one had given him a valentine in ages. Even if this was merely a commercial holiday, Egon felt warm and fuzzy thinking that Janine found him special enough to leave this gift.

Egon approached Janine’s desk with a silly smile on his face. He still wanted the circular ads. But maybe he should also ask her on a date? Was this the proper response to her card?

“Hi Janine,” Egon said shyly. “Thanks for the chocolate.”

“My pleasure,” she responded. “You got big plans tonight?”

“No. Actually, I wanted to ask you…”

Before Egon could finish, the phone rang. It was an important call that Peter had instructed Janine to wait for all day.

“Ghostbusters…uh-huh, Dr. Venkman told me to expect your call…yes, let’s discuss that billing issue…”

Janine lowered the phone and covered the receiver. “Egon, this will take a few minutes,” she whispered.

Egon nodded and stepped away. He saw that Ray was working on the Ecto-1, so he headed over.

“Raymond, I need advice.”

“Hey Spengs,” Ray responded. He was sprawled on his stomach in the back of the vehicle. “Sure thing. By the way, you want some chocolate?”

Ray crawled out and went to the driver’s seat, where Egon could see a red paper bag with a card.

“How did you get my gift from Janine?” Egon asked.

“Huh? Janine gave all of us these bags.” Ray opened his bag, revealing a heart-shaped cardboard box with Snoopy and his dog house. Upon closer inspection, Egon saw that the card was identical to his own, except with Ray’s name.

“Oh, right,” Egon said as his smile faded. “So thoughtful of Janine to give us all valentines.”

“What did you want advice about?” Ray asked.

“Um, something in the lab. Double checking a theorem…” Egon trailed off. He couldn’t lie to Ray. He sighed. “Frankly, I thought Janine left a special gift for me. It made me feel special. I was going to ask her on a date.”

Ray’s face lit up. “Oh Egon, you’re special. You’re so special to Janine. You should ask her out!”

“But if she left chocolate for everyone, I’m just part of the crowd.”

“Pssshh don’t say that,” Ray assured Egon. “Janine was trying to boost morale. She even left chocolate for Venkman, and there’s no love lost between them…”

Ray and Egon turned to Janine’s desk. She was on the phone as Peter now hovered above her. She smiled politely at him, but her eyes looked ready to shoot daggers.

“Janine has a crush on you. Maybe she felt embarrassed by leaving a gift only for you,” Ray said. “Trust me, she’d love a date!”

The phone clicked. Janine waved Egon to return to her desk. He hoped he could come up with something to say during the 30 seconds it took him to walk over.

“Sorry about that, Egon. What were you going to ask?”

“I…uh…want the newspaper ads. I like to buy myself candy on sale after Valentine’s Day.” Egon stared at his shoes. There was no smile on his face. He’d lost his nerve to ask Janine out.

“That’s funny. I do the same,” Janine chuckled. “I don’t usually have a date, but I’m happy enough getting my own candy.”

“Do you shop anywhere in particular?” Egon perked up. He couldn’t resist discussing candy.

“There’s an artisanal chocolate shop uptown that has deals starting this afternoon. Dr. V gave me the rest of the day off, so I was planning to stop by. Then I’ll visit the Natural History Museum. There’s a rotating exhibit on butterflies,” Janine said. She saw that Egon looked interested. “You’re welcome to join me. If you don’t mind looking at colorful bugs.”

“I’d enjoy that tremendously,” Egon replied. A bug-filled Valentine’s Day was a dream come true. “I lived on the Upper West Side when I taught at Columbia. I’d love to take you for dinner at one of my old haunts.”

Janine couldn’t believe her ears. Chocolate, a museum, and dinner with Egon??

“It sounds like you’re asking me on a date, Dr. Spengler,” Janine said coyly.

“I am, Ms. Melnitz,” he smiled back. “What can I say? Bugs and chocolate are the keys to my heart. I hope I can find the keys to yours.”

[halothenthehorns]

How Do You Say Gods

Chapter 18: WE SHOP FOR WATERBEDS

Will, apparently, was a lot more stubborn than Nico would have given him credit for as he persisted, "Hey Nico, you haven't eaten since we've been down here." He hadn't even taken a cookie when Magnus brought them in! He did his level best to sound casual, and unlike Tethys, his clinical tone was pure warmth of concern. "Sure we shouldn't take another break? Hell, we must have been at this most of the day, I sort of want some sleep myself-"

"I said I'm fine Will," Nico said sharply. "We all need to get out of here already."

He expected the son of Apollo to look away and let it go. Instead he was frowning right back and watching him with a very intense expression.

Thalia was sort of worried if she didn't keep reading Nico was going to cut the guys head off, and they were all so busy watching the exchange nobody noticed Alex's guilty look at the bag as Thalia read the chapter title. "That is going to be Percy's idea," she accused.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Percy gave her a pout, "who doesn't love sleeping on those? Maybe we get a free nap that isn't in a venus flytrap and a time-redo."

"Um, sane people who don't want to get seasick in their sleep," she scoffed before starting.

Will acquitted, for now. He'd let this book finish, they did need to get out of this Titan's palace and Percy back to camp, but he'd take the book away before it was done so that he could talk to Nico and make sure he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. His healing touch worked best skin to skin, but you didn't need the gift of Apollo to sense the darkness coming off of him. He would tell Nico once and for all he did belong at camp and make him promise to get his butt there from where ever he was to give it a real shot, one whole summer, and a checkup at minimum that wasn't administered from Tethys.

It was Annabeth's idea.

"That sentence would never get a chance to end badly if you read it like that," Alex laughed at how proud Thalia sounded for such a start.

"And yet I don't disagree," Percy was still smiling along despite the sarcasm.

  She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."

Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card.

"Zeus's socks, that whole thing was actually useful if this works," Thalia said mildly.

Nobody agreed with her, even she wasn't so convinced her status would leave her immune to try and risk such a reward for that price.

He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.

He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.

Jason let out a throaty whistle, the magic of that casino really was beyond comprehension.

The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.

'Guy was trying to outstrip Apollo's bus,' Thalia grimaced to herself at the thought of being in that car, but she was still trying to read robustly, the only one trying to put on a cheery attitude as the last chapter had still seemed to upset all of them for one reason or another.

On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. I told Annabeth and Grover about my latest dream, but the details got sketchier the more I tried to remember them. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew.

"Wait, what! You didn't mention that!" More than one person shouted at Percy.

He tapped his temple a few times, really trying to concentrate, but ultimately shrugged and said, "sorry guys, if I did in that dream, it must have been distorted by the time I woke up. It just sounded flat, general, male or female, I got nothing."

"Damn Crooked One is right, being able to mess with that," Alex sighed.

"Thalia sounded off too," he tried to explain. "She sounded, younger, different, it might just be the dream or because of time, I don't know," he spread his hands in apology.

"It's okay Percy, nobody blames you," Thalia assured.

The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" ... some special name or title...

"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

Jason smiled absently, Pluto didn't seem so out of character at least.

"Maybe ..." I said, though neither sounded quite right.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

I shook my head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit ... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

Annabeth's eyes widened.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh ... nothing. I was just-No, it has to be Hades.

Something about this obviously wasn't right. Magnus wished his cousin would trust her instincts more, because this question definitely needed a new angle of approach.

Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong-"

"Like what?"

"I-I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt."

I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale.

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"As oppose to the non-evil thoughts of regular goats?" Jason asked.

"Look into the square eyeballs of those things and tell me they have mercy," Percy had seen one on a school trip to a petting zoo, and he wasn't taking it back.

"Why, thank you."

"Compliments?" Will muttered, but hey, whatever worked for him.

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified.

Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Percy ... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades ... No. It has to be Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. It was like when I stared at a common word I should know, but I couldn't make sense of it because one or two letters were floating around. The more I thought about my quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer. There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.

"More dangerous than facing down the god of death?" Magnus confirmed.

Nobody answered him, because it existed all around them. If a Titan could hide them away from gods, than clearly even Zeus wasn't the top of the power chain.

Percy was starting to sweat, he had his head in his hands and was shaking it slowly side to side as he longed to hear the obvious out loud, but his friends weren't obliging. Will was fidgeting with guilt, Nico would have loved nothing more than to be the person to explain to Percy for once, but Thalia was stubbornly going on and determined to read this as cheerily as possible if she had to threaten a laugh out of her friend on every page.

The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt.

"You know what I've yet heard," Jason pointed out, "a strategy on how to get it back from him! Ask nicely?"

The sarcasm slipped out of Alex without restraint, "I'm sure if they just confront him, the lord of the underworld will offer it back with an apology."

"Annabeth kept mentioning Persephone might help us," Percy shrugged, speaking to his lap. Not that this idea had ever gone past praying for guidance, it being summer. "In case you hadn't noticed, we were kind of making it up as we went."

"Remind me to never go on a quest with you," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Aren't we technically on one now?" Will grinned.

"Oh gods no, don't even joke about that," Alex scoffed. "This was far from voluntary!"

"We didn't even get our own prophecy," Nico agreed blandly.

Will sighed in relief Nico was still just talking at all while Thalia finally got back to ignoring them properly.

If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin.

"The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured me. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that enough times.

Magnus had no clue what he was talking about there, he missed school and spent most of his time in the library when he could just to pretend he still had some normal kind of schedule.

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice.

At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Jason swallowed such a feeling of homesickness it should have been palpable. The sense of wrongness for all of this had never truly left him, even after all this time, and now more than ever as he tried to inhale and catch just a tiny wisp of a memory. Nothing, as blank as ever.

Grover, Annabeth, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea.

Hearth smiled at such a small comparison, when he'd had the same thought traveling the world tree. Yggdrasil left no doubts it was all connected.

How could there be a god who could control all that? What did my science teacher used to say-two thirds of the earth's surface was covered in water? How could I be the son of someone that powerful?

"You're really still questioning this, after all you've done so far?" Magnus chuckled.

"Hard to let go of your past," Percy whispered, head still in his hands. He missed his mom like a physical ache, he wished Annabeth were here now to call him a seaweed brain and promise him he hadn't been the cause of the end of the world. He enjoyed Thalia's company, all of theirs, but it wasn't the same.

I stepped into the surf.

"Percy?" Annabeth said. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

She called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic-"

"I'm sure it wouldn't make his head any more dense," Thalia smiled like Annabeth was here, she could perfectly imagine that aggrieved look on her face anyways.

"I will find a way to make acid rain chase you," Percy promised, finally looking up with a casual smile. He asked her to pause and went to fetch a coke. He came back with a glass full of blue soda and took several sips before waving her on for whatever was next. (How the beverage was staying in the glass and not being mixed with the ocean was not a question any of them were going to ask anymore than why the food was perfectly cooked and didn't taste like salt before.)

Will watched Nico watch him critically now, actively trying now to figure out what that expression on the son of Hades's face was. Not quite longing, not quite hatred, just something like he was demanding a question Percy was unintentionally ignoring as he sorted his own past out.

The son of Poseidon was a roll with the punches kind of guy, he could laugh and shrug anything off so long as he was the one in danger. Nico most definitely needed to get something off his chest about him though. Will now at least had the start of a suspicion Nico was trying to pretend otherwise and it wasn't working so well for him.

That's when my head went under.

I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally.

I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.

"Wow," Alex said in appreciation. She'd turned into ocean life plenty of times and swam around in Massachusetts Bay, but that was nothing comparable to the notion Percy was connected to the whole sea like this.

I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark.

"I'd say cool, but also, gah," Jason pointed out.

"I'm just sticking with cool," Percy grinned.

But the thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin.

It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there.

"Thank you, I now never want to visit there," Jason frowned all the more at falling such a height with no clue when you'd impact.

The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure.

Alex opened her mouth but Thalia was still reading.

Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe.

She nodded and closed her mouth back while Percy rolled his eyes.

I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific.

"We're not actually sure where Oceanus's palace is," Thalia said, "but we think it's somewhere in the Mariana Trench. Of course you could just be under the same protection as us, but I think the answer is just yes," she finished with a shrug, not divulging she was so confident of this because he'd been in Poseidon's palace as well, and as far as she knew, his father had done nothing to increase his gift to safely be down there.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, like my mother's, called: "Percy Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk.

The nereid was back, and Percy leaned over Thalia's shoulder eagerly to find out how much she'd share with no catfish and garbage to interrupt the message this time.

She pushed his face back away and threatened, "you try peaking ahead mister and I'll give you a nose piercing, I'll even let you pick the arrow."

He huffed and greatly considered taking the book back just to prove his point, but he also wouldn't put it past Thalia to manage to shoot him before he found out anyways.

Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding.

"You seriously make being the son of Poseidon sound like the coolest thing ever," Magnus sighed.

"I don't think we can trade dude," Percy chuckled.

Jason bit back the snide comment nobody would ever ask to be the son of Neptune, just the idea made him smirk, and yet he'd only heard of Percy in combat and knew him to be a formidable foe without the extra of seeing such creatures. It was the utmost disconcerting.

She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."

I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed.

"Always a safe place to start!" Jason looked relieved he'd finally showed a normal response, and it wasn't even to a god!

"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River."

"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."

"And ... you serve in Poseidon's court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

Suddenly I remembered faces in the waves off Montauk Beach when I was a little boy, reflections of smiling women. Like so many of the weird things in my life, I'd never given it much thought before.

Alex was rubbing her temples at this boy. "I swear if we weren't reading your thoughts I'd be questioning if you had them."

"Not everybody can have the magic of Cosmo and Wanda," he snipped right back.

"And you accused me of making bad references," she raised a brow at him.

"You do have sudden-memory-itis quite often," Magnus sided with her.

Thalia cleared her throat heavily while Percy turned to her in betrayal. "I'm under attack and you want to read!" If she was trying to impersonate Annabeth she was doing a great job of it!

"I have faith you can withstand the barrage," she chuckled.

"If my father is so interested in me," I said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?"

A cold current rose out of the depths.

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."

"Even to their own children?"

"Especially to them. 

Jason was staring down at this tattoo again, but he had a feeling like this wasn't really news to him. Just a sense, and not a reliable one since he'd woken up here and hardly anything matched up with the way he was 'supposed' to feel.

The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

"Urn ... no, ma'am."

"Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to man-hood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave.

'Ironic, since he doesn't want his own son there,' Nico clenched his hands up, spirits of the drowned made a wailing noise only he heard but they all felt a sudden cold rush. He exhaled slowly and carefully though and it all settled back down to be forgotten again.

He felt Will's eyes on him this time though and studiously ignored the nosy boy.

 Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson."

She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

"Wait!" I called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?"

"Good-bye, young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone.

I wanted to follow her down into the darkness. I wanted to see the court of Poseidon. But I looked up at the sunset darkening on the surface. My friends were waiting. We had so little time...

"What does it say about my life when Ares was the better interaction!" Percy burst out in frustration, he felt like slamming his head against a wall to get rid of this headache. How was it possible river water had cured him of chimera poison but his head was pounding so hard in his own domain!

"I know Percy, I'm so sorry," Thalia sighed, she would find some way to get revenge on whoever had done this to him.

I kicked upward toward the shore.

When I reached the beach, my clothes dried instantly. I told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"At least you were handed them and didn't have to hunt those down too," Alex offered.

"I'd still keep the receipt," Jason grumbled.

Magnus had a bad feeling about them though, as he more than anyone vividly remembered what Percy was going to the Underworld to really fetch. There were three pearls, and he intended to come back with four people...

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

"The one prize Annabeth will not win is most cheerful award," Will chuckled.

On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea.

With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip I'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"Which is really saying something since recording studios have to be a dime a dozen out there," Percy frowned.

"I get the feeling this won't be the kind mortals can find," Thalia kindly reminded.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told me. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book.

Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars.

"Can I veto out of my own future quests?" Percy groaned for every part of this being as hard as it was possible to be.

"You wouldn't even if you could," Thalia chuckled.

I froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar-my stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters-I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I-I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"If I can have one good thing come out of this," Percy found himself saying not to anyone in here, "let it be this guy taking a plunger next!" He did not mean the kind with a toilet. He found himself actually thinking of Poseidon, whatever faith he had in his father after that meeting with the nereid, despite his hopeless brain, seemed to have been brought out. His dad hadn't broken a vow in almost seventy years before meeting Sally, surely he must have some care for what his son and beloved mortal were putting up with now that he was taking even the most minor interest in their life?

For just a moment, the water warmed, like dipping your toe into a hot bath as it washed around him. Percy smiled softly, and then blinked in surprise to see nobody seemed to have experienced the feeling. 'Thanks dad,' he grinned for the soft feeling of a promise.

"C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled me away before I could punch a hole in the appliance-store window.

"At least save that for Gabe's store when you get back," Alex agreed vindictively.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid.

"Only if you grew up there," Jason argued at once, "sounds more like a map to a deathtrap between every alley." Enemy territory, his mind was whispering, he knew he'd never traveled there before and didn't want to now.

"I'll always take the big apple over the city of angels," Percy said, "considering this mess." He didn't even have all of his memories back and he had uneasy feelings about California, especially as he glanced at Thalia and was very convinced this was not a welcome state for more than this quest.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too.

Jason still looked grumpy for some weird reason, why he would take an attack on this state as personal as Percy had gave a bit of a clue where he might be from at least.

It only made Thalia's skin crawl as she again glanced at that oddly specific scar on his lip, and now he was apparently from California!

She glanced at Nico and wondered if she should be worried about a ghost haunting them thanks to her.

I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Like an idiot, I stopped.

"Admitting to your idiocy doesn't make you less idiotic," Alex frowned.

"So much for New York smarts," Magnus agreed.

"Don't make me separate you two," Percy grumbled inaudibly while they grinned at each other.

Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all-white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys.

'Are they going to offer to sell him a water bed?' Hearth smiled.

Magnus rolled his eyes, he knew his friend wasn't that naïve, but he was curious how that was going to play in at this point.

Instinctively, I uncapped Riptide.

When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

I made the mistake of swinging.

The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the ..."

I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. "Run!" I screamed at Annabeth and Grover.

We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" Annabeth shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated.

"Ha, it was Annabeth's idea," Percy jubilated as he finally got a shot back at somebody here, even Thalia.

"You started it by stopping, you didn't win anything," Thalia wouldn't give in.

It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified.

"Running from mortals qualifies as an emergency?" Will confirmed.

"World War Three is on the horizon and you're on a deadline, but sure this is the priority," Thalia agreed.

"Let's see you two at this!" Percy sighed, but he had an annoying feeling they would just fine. He really wished Annabeth was down here to argue with them properly, but she also might spend the entire time on a presentation with slides he thought fondly.

We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped.

Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit.

"Hang on!" Magnus raised his hand, paused for a moment with his eyes completely glazed over, before nodding and dropping as he finished processing. "Okay, I'm good, continue."

Alex was laughing remorselessly while Hearth was regretting having asked about dinosaurs right now as odd as that seemed to him too.

He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck-I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.

"Explain to me again how you mouthed off to Mars but not wana be mobster number five?" Jason asked.

"No, you guys lost your rights during this chapter," Percy scoffed. "You'll get them back when you stop criticizing the twelve year old's."

"Oh, so, never," Alex shrugged without concern.

"Sorry to barge in," I told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom.

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"And none of them would still contain some people's inflated egos," Thalia smirked, imagining Hera for starters as someone she wished she could drop from the pantheon for such misfortunes.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

Nico's mouth ticked, just the smallest hint of a smile as he couldn't deny how cool that kind of sounded.

Will let out a sigh of relief he'd deny he'd been holding as his demeanor finally relaxed even just a bit from the cold aura he'd gone back to giving off from back at the start.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way.

"Um," I said, "I don't think ..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"I'm gunna kill Grover," Jason frowned, this had trap written all over it, and not just because it was the chapter title.

"Nobody kills my satyr but me," Percy defended, but it was half-hearted at best as he wanted to smack him for this too.

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

Crusty, the named nagged at something in Nico's mind, something to do with beds, he was sure he had a card over that- not that he cared.

"Almost what?" I asked.

He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

Annabeth said, "But what-"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter.

Thalia's smile was flickering like a bad reception, that bed sounded awesome and something she'd put into her tent, she might even need it as she tensed up again feeling another fight coming. Annabeth had never mentioned this place at all, which meant nothing too important had happened here...

When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.

That snapped everybody to attention, Magnus's hands balled into a fist as he now easily imagined locking this guy in a freezer no matter what he looked like!

Percy's hand was now fisted around his pen, but his fingers were trembling to much to take the cap off. They hadn't seen how fast this guy moved, he'd never get Riptide out in time. He needed Annabeth for this one!

"Hey!" she protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!"

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress.

"That's not what that means!" Magnus yelped in surprise.

"This is not time for a vocab lesson!" Thalia snapped back.*

Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.

"N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."

"Procrustes," Nico realized. Ugh, what a useless card, it was only available in the water deck and leveled out the playing field to- he forced his brain to stop, again. Why did such childish thoughts have to keep lingering.

"Mythomagic?" Will confirmed. Nico flushed and didn't answer, but he was sure he recognized that now familiar rise and fall of excitement. "You might have to teach me how to play, sounds like this game could be a lifesaver."

Nico didn't answer, but he was side eying Will again as each wondered of the other what his problem was.

Annabeth and Grover kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told me, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?"

"Percy!" Grover yelled.

My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant water-bed salesman alone.

"Not with that attitude!" Alex groaned. "You're surrounded by water in those beds, try drowning him!"

"He might charge me for popping them," Percy said with a straight face, not at all blushing for not even thinking of this.

He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" I asked.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens.

"I'm suddenly thankful Oceanus hasn't tried that tactic," Magnus muttered.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."

"Procrustean does not mean pandering Percy," Magnus sighed.

"You can read the dictionary to me later," Percy lied.

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," I told Procrustes. "She's impossible."

"You're lucky she's being strangled or she would have drop kicked you to that bed," Thalia said confidently.

"She still might if I don't rescue her in time," Percy nodded. 

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"That is a terrible sales pitch!" Jason yelped.

"I agree, let's see if I get through to him," Percy groaned.

"Ah," I said, swallowing hard. "Sensible."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose.

"A true noise of terror I'm sure," Will nodded.

"So, Crusty ..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress.

"I am almost insulted he fell for that," Magnus frowned.

'Monsters still have the same essence we all do, to be seen,' Hearth smiled.

"No waves. See?"

I snapped my fingers. "Ergo."

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Center him just right," I said.

The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"What a hypocrite, I was imagining him being six feet perfectly at least," Magnus frowned.

"We don't question the monsters faulty logic of not following their own rules," Percy shrugged.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

I uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..."

I had no qualms about what I was about to do. If Crusty were human, I couldn't hurt him anyway. If he was a monster, he deserved to turn into dust for a while.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told me. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'"

"You've got to admire he's still trying," Alex said.

"I'm almost tempted to take that deal and still lop his head off," Thalia agreed.

"I think I'll start with the top." I raised my sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

I swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers.

I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot.

"You look taller," I said.

"Puberty," Will said tragically, "girls are always taller than us when we need it least."

"Yes, I'm so sure that was it," Percy laughed in relief.

"Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

"You're welcome," Percy smirked like she was here now to roll her eyes at him again.

I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters-"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"It's the little things about this mess that get me," Jason nodded, "you guys have almost literally stumbled into everything helpful."

"Never underestimate the power of the fates," Thalia shrugged.

"We get none of the credit here?" Percy pouted.

"Three percent," Jason mocked.

"Come on," I told my friends.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death.'"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."

"I wonder if he gave discounts for mileage," Thalia said while looking around at Nico curiously. He'd offered to take the book from her last time, but she didn't want to force him back to talking if he didn't want to yet.

PJOPJOPJO

*Now is the time for the vocab lesson. Ergo means therefor, but in Greek, it means work.