#im sure he got lectured about it but it's kind of funny to imagine him just peeling all his sushi to let his bro have the fish

[transhawks]

concept: during fancier or holiday meals at the Todoroki home, Touya would take off all the fish from his nigiri and give it to Natsuo and just eat the leftover rice.

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

[yoon-kooks]

Love Note | jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, College!AU, a touch of mystery

Summary: When a stray pink notebook falls into your possession, you’re mildly disturbed to find the pages filled with a long list of popular students, their significant others, and how they got together. You can’t imagine what kind of twisted person would keep track of other people’s love affairs to the point of obsession, but you have one clue. The only person listed without a significant other is the campus heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. It isn’t until after an unlikely conversation is initiated that you begin to piece together the truth behind the boy and the notebook.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none

A/N: this is loosely based off the manga, death note 🤪

-

Love.

Sometimes you wonder what it takes to catch someone’s attention, to capture the fluttering hearts of those around you, to be loved without trying. You don’t understand. Why is it that average folks like you struggle to have even a single classmate ask for your number while the popular kids have a whole flock of fans vying for their attention? The divide between the popular crowd and everyone else almost feels unfair. The only logical explanation you’ve come to is that some people are blessed and others are cursed.

Cursed. That’s exactly how you feel after picking up an ominous stray notebook in the hallway outside of your psych classroom.

You had found it funny how everyone seemed to step over the notebook as not to trip, but no one thought to pick it up and return it to the owner. So after the rush of students emptied out of the halls, you scooped it up and examined the pink cover for the name of the owner. Instead of a name, you found the phrase “Love Note” written across the cover in black sharpie. You didn’t think anything of it until you flipped the notebook open and saw what you saw.

You should’ve never opened the book. Because now you’re stuck with it.

Your jaw falls until it’s dragging on the floor as you flip through the pages. The pages are all practically fill with the same thing, and it has nothing to do with the lecture you just came out of. In fact, it has nothing to do with school aside from the names of students listed in it.

Kim Seokjin & Park Jiyeon – a serenade with a guitar and cheesy lyrics

Im Nayeon & Kim Taehyung – bonded while failing chem together

Lee Hyeri & Kim Namjoon – partnered up during a marine biology seminar on crustaceans

Jung Hoseok & Min Yoongi – opposites attract

Written in messy columns and rows, you recognize a majority of the names as the popular faces on campus, some of which are in your class. You assume the name paired next to theirs is their significant other because the column after that alludes to how they got together.

You get the feeling you’ve picked up the belonging of some creep and seen something you shouldn’t have seen. Because who the hell would bother keeping tabs on other people’s love affairs. It’s none of their business and it’s certainly none of yours.

Just as you’re about to head toward the lost-and-found, the name at the very bottom of the list catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook. You wouldn’t have even spotted his name amongst the hundreds of others if it weren’t for the blank space next to his. In fact, his name is the only one written without another name next to it. But now that you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.

You’ve never spoken to the boy personally, but everyone seems to know him. Many of your classmates signed up for your psych class just to be in the same vicinity as him. He’s handsome, funny, smart, and even quite kind from what you’ve heard. He’s the total package that everyone aspires to get a piece of. Even you are a tad curious to know what kind of witchcraft he uses to draw people in so effortlessly.

At the same time, you know your place. He’s popular, and you’re average at best. You’re not the type to approach him like all the other girls begging for his affection. And you know he’d never approach you either. That’s the curse that was bestowed upon you.

If you knew the boy or at least had the guts to talk to him, you’d surely bring the notebook to his attention. Because if your name were written and singled-out in someone’s creepy notebook, you’d want to know, too. You’d want someone to have your back.

That’s the only reason why you’re still holding onto the notebook and not freeing yourself of the burden. If you were to leave it lying around or at the lost-and-found, who’s to say someone else would be willing to do the deed in your stead. From what you witnessed earlier, no one was even willing to pick the notebook up.

So you’ve decided what you’ll do. At the next lecture, you’ll find Jungkook and slip the notebook into his bag without him noticing. In that way, you can rid yourself of the notebook once and for all while also giving the boy a subtle heads-up with what’s being written about him and his popular crowd.

The plan is fool-proof.

-

The next morning, you feel it in your stomach. The feeling of stressing way too much over something so stupid. But you can’t help but fear the thought of getting caught. You’d hate for Jungkook or any classmate to catch you sticking something so suspicious in his bag. What if they get the wrong idea and think you’re the creepy owner of the notebook? You can’t have that.

Still, you do have a sense of duty to uphold. Clutching the notebook in your arms, you walk into the lecture hall with the intention of going through with the plan. You’ll still try to sit behind him or somewhere in his vicinity, and if it seems to risky, you can always do what you do best: chicken out.

Glancing around the lecture hall, you realize you’ve made one fatal mistake. You arrived before Jungkook. Feeling like a goof, you slump into a random aisle seat and toss the pink notebook on the desk. You can’t believe you were worrying so much about getting caught when you couldn’t even execute the first part of the plan.

“Is this seat taken?”

You glance up at a finger pointing to the seat next to yours. The one pointing is none other than the boy you’ve been stressing over for the past 24 hours. How fucking convenient. But you know something’s up. There are plenty of other seats still up for grabs, and yet, he chose to sit right next to you? Unheard of. You figure it must be some sort of joke or bet, but you’ll take it. “No.”

“Cool,” he says, sliding his thighs through the walkway that’s always been too narrow for your liking. His duffle bag surely would have smacked you in the face if you hadn’t leaned back. When he finally settles into his seat, he deadass looks at your desk. “Cute notebook.”

Oh, you suppose that’s code for when a popular guy wants to take a picture of your lecture notes. But that’s too bad for him. “Thanks, but it’s not actually my notebook. I found it in the hallway yesterday and I’m looking for the owner.”

“Why not just bring it to the lost-and-found?” he chuckles. Now that you think about it, it does sound pretty weird, considering you don’t have the slightest clue as to who the notebook belongs to. “Do you at least know who the name of the person you’re looking for?”

“Not exactly,” you shrug. “But I figure it must belong to someone in this class.”

He gestures for you to hand it to him. So you do. All according to plan.

You watch as the boy’s eyes widen at the long list of names in the notebook. It’s only a matter of time before he sees a pattern and finds his own name written there.

“Is your name here too?” He continues to scan the list, page by page.

You shake your head.

“Does that mean you’re available?” The boy pulls out a pen from his backpack and clicks it.

“How’d you come to that conclusion?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Isn’t this like a list of all the couples at our school?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Right, right,” he nods, twirling his pen. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to write my name in there, aren’t you…?”

“Not necessarily.” He sets the pen down and chuckles at you with a smile. “Sometimes it’s just nice to get acquainted with the people around you. You might be surprised with the kinds of people you’ll meet in that way.”

Ah, there it is. There’s the charm that has everyone swooned.

“It’s Y/N,” you say softly. Half a second later, the boy picks up his pen and starts jotting shit down. “Hey, I thought you weren’t going to write my name down.”

You watch as Jungkook writes your name out next to his along with the description, “had a cute conversation during psych lecture.”

“I’m testing a theory,” he says.

“What theory?”

“What if this isn’t a just a weird kid’s record of couples at our school?”

“What is it then…?”

“A matchmaking machine? Like, if we write down the names of two people and an explanation of how they got together, maybe they’ll suddenly become a couple? Like magic,” he nods. You nod along, though you’re starting to think the boy has a screw loose. “I saw something like this in an anime once.”

“You mean… Death Note…?” Aka the anime where a smartass finds a death god’s notebook that can give people a death sentence just by writing their name down.

“Oh, so you’ve seen it too?”

You nod.

“I guess I’ll let you in on a little secret then.” He gestures for you to come closer. He whispers into your ear, “I’m the one who started the Love Note.”

“You’re the creep who wrote all of this?” you whisper-shout in his ear.

“No, no, no.” He waves his hands in defense. “I just helped get the ball rolling.”

“Please elaborate.” Because you don’t believe him yet.

“A few years back, my friend wanted to get back into dating after a tough breakup. But he didn’t know what kind of a girl he was looking for.” Jungkook flips back to the first page and points to Kim Seokjin’s name right at the very top. “So I took a notebook, wrote Love Note on the cover, wrote Seokjin’s name inside it, hid it somewhere around campus, and left the rest up to fate.”

“Are you saying the girl, Jiyeon, was the one who found the notebook and brought it back to Seokjin?”

“The same way you returned it to me, Y/N,” he nods. “After they got together, they filled out their section of the notebook, tagged another friend, and hid it again for someone else to find. The tradition continued amongst my friends, friends of friends, people I didn’t even know, until it finally found its way back to me.”

You get it now. It isn’t one creepy person’s notebook. It’s not witchcraft or a curse. It’s a curious object passed from person to person to spark a conversation and a potential relationship.

“So who wrote your name in it? And why?” You’d like to think someone like Jungkook doesn’t need a silly notebook to help him find a lover.

“My pal, Jung Hoseok. He said I’ve been looking lonely lately,” the boy says, glancing back at the list of presumably happy couples.

“Lonely despite always being surround by people who adore you?” Sounds ironic, but you think you know what he means.

“They don’t adore me. Just my face,” he sighs. Damn, what a struggle it must be to have a face as handsome as his. “I was hoping whoever found the notebook might adore more than what they see.”

“Sorry, can’t say that I do at the moment.” You use a teasing tone, but you aren’t lying either. What do you know about Jungkook other than the fact that he’s popular with a pretty face? That’s all you’ve ever judged him by. “I’m probably not the person you were hoping for.”

“You are who I was hoping for, Y/N,” he tilts his head when he speaks. “Adoring me is a bonus, but more importantly, I just wanted to meet someone I wouldn’t have otherwise met.”

Someone he wouldn’t have otherwise met? It’s true. The two of you probably wouldn’t be talking if it weren’t for the notebook. “I guess I fit that part of the criteria,” you say.

“Exactly.” He smiles at you as the lecture begins. You suppose only time will tell if you’ll come to also adore the boy as he so hopes.

-

As days, weeks, and even a month pass, you still have the Love Note in your possession. Recently, however, you get the feeling as though that’s about to change.

“Hey, Y/N,” says a familiar voice as a duffle bag claims the seat two spaces down from yours. The owner of the duffle bag follows, stepping into the seat right next to you from the row behind.

“Hello, Mr. I’m-too-cool-to-squeeze-through-the-aisle-like-a-normal-person,” you snicker at your psych buddy. Ever since you discovered Jungkook’s association to the Love Note, he’s made it a point to come find you during lecture. A month ago, you’d been sitting alone, and you’d still be sitting alone if you hadn’t stumbled upon the boy’s pink notebook. So you can’t say you aren’t enraptured by the gesture.

He chuckles at your fancy nickname for him before throwing an arm around your seat. You feel his eyes on you as you casually open the Love Note and scan the list.

“How many of these couples do you think are still together?” you ask, looking up and accidentally catching him staring at your lips. The new lip gloss you bought must be working.

“I’m sure not all of them are,” Jungkook strokes his wise man beard. “But all the people I personally know from the list are still going strong.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“It’s the fate of the Love Note, duh Y/N,” he gives you a cute little pinch on your cheek. “Our names are written there, and we’re still together, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but we’re not together together… yet.” You try your best to get the boy to take a hint.

“Well, if anything, the Love Note has the power to bring two people together who wouldn’t otherwise be together, right?” he says. “Because of it, I learned I like being around someone who’s honest, open-minded, and adores me for more than just my face.”

You can’t help but smile at his compliment. He’s too sweet for you to handle. “How can you be so sure that I adore more than just your face?”

“Because you’ve put up with me for a whole month,” he chuckles. “And because you sent me a drunk text the other night, confessing your heart out to me.”

“I did what?” You fumble to get your phone out of your bag and check your messages. Was it possible to get so drunk that you don’t even remember getting drunk in the first place?

“I’m kidding, Y/N.” If there’s one thing you learned in the past month, it’s that Jungkook loves to tease you. But if it gets him to smile like that all the time, you don’t mind being a little gullible. “I’m still waiting for a proper confession.”

You look into the boy’s big eyes and then back at the bottom of the list where both of your names are written. “Should we make it official then?”

“I’m already ahead of you.” Clicking his pen, Jungkook adds a tiny little heart to the end of the foreshadowing he had written a month ago. He then writes the name of his single friend Park Jimin on the line below, shuts the notebook, and hands it back to you.

After lecture, Jungkook pulls you by the hand and leads you to the building where Jimin’s class should be ending. As the two of you wait for him to walk out, you feel yourself gravitating more and more to the boy until both of your arms are latched around his. You never realized how much you love the feeling of having someone so close to you.

“Is this the one you’ve been smitten over?” The boy you assume to be Jimin points in your direction. You look to Jungkook for an answer.

“Yes, this is the one,” he says, giving your hand a good squeeze. “Now we just need to find someone special for you.”

“Like who?” Jimin asks. “I can’t seem to keep a relationship for over a week.”

“We might have a solution for you,” Jungkook says as you show the other boy the Love Note. And despite his initial hesitance, Jimin eventually agrees to partake in the tradition after seeing the effect it had on you and his pal.

“Should we leave it here?” you ask Jungkook after saying farewell to Jimin and finding a cozy bench to sit on.

“Are you sure you’re ready to let it go?” He smirks at how you’ve held onto what you had initially thought of as a creepy ass notebook. You nod. “Okay, we’ll leave it here.”

He helps you set it down off to the side, leaning in for what you anticipate to be the first of many kisses between you and him. Just before giving you a taste, however, he stops to examine the sheen over your lips. “Is that new lip gloss?”

You nod, prompting the boy to lean back. “It’s cute,” he says.

For a second, you just blink at him and he blinks back as though he wasn’t about to kiss you. Oh, you get it. He’s teasing you again.

Taking the boy’s hand, you make the bold move yourself, pressing your lips ever so softly against his. Just enough to give him a taste of the gloss you’d picked out with him in mind.

After teasing you some more for being so bold, Jungkook helps you up from the bench as the two of you head home. Leaving the Love Note behind, you understand now that the divide between popular boys like him and average folks like you was never a curse bestowed upon you by fate. Rather, it was up to you to take fate into your own hands and spin it in your favor.

That all began the moment you picked up that pink notebook.

[hazbincalifornia]

Amount of writing I’m getting done for OT and my IZ fic: Some.

Amount of writing I’m getting done for self-indulgent bullshit: Somewhat more.

Anyway, wrote out Bella meeting Sir Pentious because I was bit by the muse bug. This is written for the four people who know who they both are, f.

Wordcount: 2075

The second she saw the airship soaring through the red-tinted sky, shooting anything that looked at it funny, Bella knew she had to get inside of it. Let Kit flirt with their host (or, if she was honest, fail to flirt with, man, she didn’t even like flirting and even she knew that he turned into a pile of goopy mush when he was around a guy he thought was cute) and let Vee attempt to kidnap yet another animal to try and smuggle home, she wanted to find out who the heck made a steam-powered airship in the twenty-first century.

Or maybe Hell was actually stuck in the year 1900, who knew? Time probably passed funny in the afterlife, but the fact that nobody had shot them out of the sky yet said that there was something else afoot- the pilot had to have some way of warding off attacks considering rivals probably had, like, grenade launchers, and she wanted to find out how. Style merged with substance, ruling the air with confidence- and she wanted in. 

“Hey! Hey you!” She flagged down somebody with four arms and purple fur who looked short enough to be less likely to punt her into orbit- Mom had warned that most people down here were mean as, well, Hell- and pointed up at the ship. “What’s the deal with those?”

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She couldn’t find a rocket pack anywhere- lousy Hell lagging behind Earth technologically- but ended up stumbling across the next best thing in a warehouse that had an extra ship that had clearly been in some sort of accident. This one was only partially-reassembled, and there was a lot of burn damage sustained to the aluminum and copper outside, but that just meant that she could see the skeleton without having to slice through a lot of layers, so it was almost better- and a lot easier to crawl in one of the big holes in the front window via a pile of parts in front of it.

The interior was decorated like a mansion, with vivid yellows, reds, and blacks- she could respect the commitment to the aesthetic, especially with torn-open snakesheds and red eyeballs plastered everywhere. It looked like something out of Mom’s old comic book collection, toxic and yet intoxicating, every detail chosen for maximum dramatic potential. It must look even better with all the lights on and more than her phone’s flashlight illuminating bits at a time.

It was the best playground that she could imagine- nothing but her and a massive ship the size of an apartment building. Oddly enough, there wasn’t much dust- maybe it had crashed recently and was being held here for repairs? It was certainly of a similar design to the one that she’d seen from the ground, so she couldn’t imagine that it wasn’t just an iteration or two away.

Her fingers ran over the sleek machinery like it was sacred- some of it looked like it belonged in a museum, but the rest was cutting edge, and the seamless way they blended was like something out of a dream. A genius indeed- if she’d been born a hundred years ago and was suddenly thrust into the modern day, she could only hope that her tech would look this good. There was room for improvement of course, there always was, but it was loads better than most of what she saw digging through the junkyard, and a lot closer to the stuff she made with Grandpa Zim using his irken tech. Impressive for someone who’d clearly been dead for some time, considering he’d made enough of a name for himself that some rando off the street knew it.

“Genius inventor, huh…?” Bella pulled out her screwdriver, starting to work on freeing the control panel. It had a touchscreen and levers, what was that about? She had to know what it looked like underneath- did Hell even use cables and wires or was she going to need to drag Kit in to do his magic business here?

It took some doing- whatever had taken this particular ship down had welded the panel into place and it took a crowbar to pry off, ha, take that Venus for saying she ‘didn’t need to bring it’- but eventually she got into the guts of the thing. Sure enough, it was wiring, spiraled all into itself in a knot- it must have gotten all messed up at some point, maybe that was what caused the crash on top of whatever burnt the outside? 

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it, ya know,” she said, rummaging around in her pocket before pulling it out. “Mom insisted I bring the one that can vaporize people since apparently half of you can’t even die the normal way anyway? Bunch of freaks.” Her finger twitched towards the trigger as the pitter-patter became a shadow as the thing scrambled up towards the same hole she’d come in. “I’m warning you, I’m a great shot. Won’t take two to blow your brains out.”

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!” 

It was an egg. Not like some kind of insult, it was literally an egg, and probably a third of her size. It was also wearing a little hand-tailored suit and top hat. She stared down at it, and it stared up at her. 

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

“Hmm… alright, but no funny business!” The egg looked her up and down before turning heel, starting to clamor down the pile of parts. She had to hold back a snort when she saw that it had ‘#69’ written on its back.

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

The egg blabbered on all the way back to the ship, mostly about jazz music oddly enough, but soon enough they were nearing a different ship that had settled behind a building. It was either the one she’d seen before or a duplicate, and she felt a shiver run up her spine as she got close- it looked a lot cooler in one piece and lit up bright yellow. Her phone buzzed, and she discreetly pulled it out as the egg launched into a diatribe on the importance of the saxophone. It was a text from her sister. 

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“And then, then he saysss to me, he sayssss- Ah, there you are! Good, good.” She heard him before she saw him, voice booming as he welcomed his hench-egg back. “And what was poking around the warehouse?”

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!” 

Bella’s antennae twitched as her eyes widened. The man in front of her was a jet black snake, with fangs, a top hat, a bowtie, and eyes on his face as well as nestled on the open space on his chest and hood. Best she could pin from Venus’s nature lectures he was a cobra of some sort, and there was a smug fang-y grin on his face as he slithered up to her, taking advantage of the height that his tail gave him- he’d probably be seven feet easy to Bella’s mere five foot one. 

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?” 

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“Your work’s fantastic, but you really need a way to keep the gutty stuff in order in case of a hit- that’s probably part of why that other ship went down, y’know? But your sense of design and how you mold your century-old designs with the new stuff- it’s fantastic, I just want to cut it all open and see how it works.”

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

“I only touched the control panel, and your little egg boy got at me before I messed with anything, but I’d give anything for a couple of days working on the interior of this place- I bet I could make it run faster and with less fuel.”

The eye on his hat rolled itself as he narrowed the eyes on his face. “Who are you to come in and think you know better than I about my own shipssss? I should end you right here for your insolence and your trespassing!”

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“It’s welded weird. Something went wrong with the metal when it was being forged, so you put it in the back so you wouldn’t have to look at it. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good column because somebody screwed up one little part. And that’s just what I see looking around in, like, five seconds- gah!” The end of his tail had wrapped around behind her while she’d been talking, and struck before she finished her sentence, lifting her up to his eye-level with her arms pinned to her sides.

“Little wrench! How dare you?” 

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“You to let me breathe, for one,” she wheezed, fingers turning to try tickling what she could reach, and his cheek twitched funny before she dropped bodily to the floor, only managing to roll in time thanks to muscle memory from combat training. Thanks, Grandpas. “I really do just wanna see how all your stuff works. The ways I could improve my own inventions if I just could figure out how to blend different functionalities the way that you do...”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss.  ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Kingjin au

Characters; Kim Seokjin , Min Yoongi , Kim Namjoon Genre; Humour and I guess fluffy ending. Royalty AU too ig Warnings; Few minor curse words but otherwise nothing Word count; 1.4k

Seokjin is a shit King, Yoongi is fed up of being his babysitter and Namjoon is just an innocent jewellery maker that gets dragged into the King’s shit. But ends up with a worldwide handsome man in his bed so who’s the real winner here.

⦁ Okay so we start the story at the castle where the yearly ball is held to celebrate another year under King Kim Seokjin's reign ⦁ Speaking of the King ⦁ He's standing on his chair at the head table as music plays and guests dance and talk ⦁ And he's telling jokes ⦁ People are laughing in that painful way where they don't find the joke funny but don't know what else to do ⦁ I mean, you'd laugh too if your ruler is playing comedian ⦁ "Your Majesty, I believe you've graced us with enough of your jokes now"- Advisor to the King, Min Yoongi or as he's more commonly known; The King's babysitter. ⦁ "Nonsense, Yoongi-chi! I have plenty of jokes left! I can go all night!" ⦁ Somehow, he failed to notice the despair in his subjects eyes. ⦁ Fast forward to the next day where Yoongi is lecturing Seokjin yet again about how a king should act ⦁ "I'm the King, I think only I can judge how the King of my country should act" The childlike pout and sulkily folded arms over the slumped torso of the king is prime example of how Yoongi got his nickname. ⦁ "Nobody takes you seriously, Seokjin. I'm surprised the people haven't started an uprising to dethrone you yet. You act like a child." ⦁ "My people would never! They love me!" ⦁ "As a court jester, sure, a competent ruler however? Not so much." ⦁ "Oh you'll see, this country would fall apart without me!" Followed by a dramatic exit from the advisor's office leaving poor Yoongi with yet another headache and stacks of work to do on the King's behalf. ⦁ That night Seokjin sneaks out of the castle with a plan to prove his point ⦁ He's determined to prove to Yoongi that the country needs him as King and that by the next evening, everything will have fallen to shit ⦁ Except the next day passes and the castle still stands ⦁ Seokjin watches from a little cottage on a nearby hill with his eye pressed to the smaller end of the telescope. ⦁ "A-are you going to return now, Your Majesty?" Poor innocent Namjoon never imagined he'd get dragged into anything even remotely regarding the Royal family. ⦁ Namjoon had always been happy on the outskirts, far enough from the general population to not be bothered but still close enough that he could bike into town to gather provisions whenever he needed to. ⦁ He lived a simple happy life out there on his little hill with the wild flowers and books he pressed them into to make into bookmarks and jewellery that he sold at the market once a month ⦁ And then before the sun had even arisen that morning King Kim Seokjin stumbled out of the nearby woods and onto his porch. ⦁ He hadn't left since ⦁ "Not until they beg," ⦁ Namjoon sighed for he knew the last thing anyone would do was beg to have Kim Seokjin back in charge ⦁ So suddenly Namjoon's life was no longer simple and quiet but full of a sulking royal taking up his own bed and lounging on his favourite arm chair by the window to squint out across the green green grass at the castle ⦁ "I saw another guard today," Namjoon had just returned from his daily ride through the woods. ⦁ "What did they say?" ⦁ "Well, they're not exactly going out of their way to look for you," He admitted and the king groaned, throwing his arms up dramatically before muttering to himself grumpily in a way Namjoon was certain would've been a hex if only magic was real ⦁ Three weeks passed before Seokjin realised his plan was failing and the castle was thriving without him ⦁ In his absence Yoongi had been making all the decisions and the country was honestly better for it ⦁ But of course, if King Seokjin is one thing, it's a stubborn dumbass ⦁ "New plan, Namjoonie," ⦁ "Do I have a say?" ⦁ "Not in the slightest." ⦁ Which is how that very same afternoon Namjoon found himself standing infront of Yoongi on the opposite side of his large wooden desk in his office ⦁ "Ransom?" Yoongi questioned after reading the note previously handed to him that the advisor instantly knew was written by the king ⦁ "Uh, yes, ransom." An awkward shuffle. ⦁ "You're telling me you've had the King in your home for the past three weeks and now demand to be paid to return him?" ⦁ "Yep, that-that's what the note says." ⦁ "You know I was raised with Seokjin, right? I know how handwriting almost as well as my own?" ⦁ Namjoon only gave a sheepish grin. ⦁ And then Yoongi turned and tossed the note into the fireplace behind him before getting up and crossing his study to uncover the safe hidden behind an end table ⦁ A large sack of coins was soon in Namjoon's hands. ⦁ "Here," ⦁ "This...this feels like a lot." ⦁ "Mmh, at least double what you asked. You'll need the compensation for dealing with his shit." ⦁ "Uhm, excuse me, what?" ⦁ "Keep him, if he's gone for a day longer the council agreed to hand the title of King to me. Let's all be honest right now, he's a shit King." ⦁ "I mean, I can't argue that," ⦁ "So, keep him until tomorrow and then tell him he's no longer King and if he returns he'll have to work for me." ⦁ "Can't you tell him?" ⦁ One note handwritten by Yoongi later and Namjoon was plodding back home with his messenger bag weighed down with shiny coins. ⦁ He made sure to take the longe route home just so he didn't have to try to keep the secret from his uninvited guest for quite as long ⦁ And then it was almost midnight and he was stepping into his cosy little cottage ⦁ Seokjin was already asleep in the armchair ⦁ Namjoon spent the night in his own bed for the first time in three weeks ⦁ The next morning he gave Seokjin the note ⦁ He expected the elder to yell at him for hiding it ⦁ He expected Seokjin to scream and do more of his posessed mutterings and curse the whole town ⦁ But the no longer King simply plucked a few pieces of gold from the sack and opened the front door ⦁ "Where are you going?" ⦁ "Does it matter? It's all downhill from here," And then he was gripping the doorframe for support as tears rolled down his cheeks and laughter hurt his lungs "Get it?! Because we're on a hill!" ⦁ It was the first time Namjoon had heard one of Seokjin's infamous jokes in person ⦁ And honestly, he laughed ⦁ Seokjin turned to him with a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before ⦁ "You laughed, at my joke. A real laugh, not the fake ones to keep me happy." ⦁ "It was funny," ⦁ The door closed and Seokjin marched across the wooden floor to throw his arms around the kind younger man's shoulders ⦁ "Uhm, Seokjin-ssi?" ⦁ "Hyung, call me hyung," ⦁ "Oh...okay, hyung." Namjoon's arms wrapped around Seokjin's waist ⦁ For the first time in his life, Namjoon thought that having another person so close wouldn't be so bad. ⦁ So Seokjin officially moved in ⦁ He collected a few of his belongings from the castle and made Yoongi promise to visit and invite both him and Namjoon to all the parties ⦁ Namjoon taught Seokjin about the flowers and how to make various things to sell at market and improve their home ⦁ Seokjin didn't have the best skill but he had a lot of creative ideas ⦁ Soon enough their crafts were the talk of the town and not long after the country ⦁ Even though they had plenty of money to spare they stilled stayed in their modest little one bedroom tucked up close together every night with love in their eyes and swelling their chests together ⦁ And they just knew that they would have a long and happy life together right there where it all started in their little cottage up on the hill

[Author’s note]

This was supposed to be just a quick lil bulletpoint au based on the prompt;

“You kidnap the King of a large country and hold him for ransom. You are shocked when you received twice what you asked for from them with a single note reading: ‘Twice the amount to make sure he never comes back’ ”

But I got more into the idea as I wrote so yeah, more detailed than it should’ve been oops lol sorry I keep playing with the idea of making it into an actual fully written story but im not sure Let me know if you think I should and maybe it could be a whole series and we can have new King Yoongi hire an advisor, mayhaps a certin little Jiminie ;) But that’s getting ahead of myself (guard Hoseok and Jungkook NO! swordsmith jk with the muscles and sweat ehehhe. Namjoon’s florist friend tae who is lowkey in love with the town swordsmith but too shy to talk to him. Little does he know the swordsmith has a weakness for cute boys that sell pretty flowers for a living.)

~Chee

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 19: Verklempt

Word Count: 3134

Read on AO3

Game day. The energy was contagious, and everyone was pumped to watch Buffy play. Especially Marty.

“Oh, dude, it’s going to be so great!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, “I’m so excited,” he noted, as they walked towards the building, their friends behind them.

“Isn’t it weird that we were all partners for this journalism assignment, and we, like, got together,” Amber pointed out, stealing a quick glance at Andi.

“I think this project, just like, brought us closer,” Jonah piped up, a soft smile on his face.

“I really liked it, like a lot. Definitely want to go into journalism now,” Cyrus confirmed. He couldn’t even imagine dropping the class like he’d previously said.

“Why? So you can write ‘I love TJ’ over and over again and call that an article?” Amber teased, laughing at her own joke.

“Oh, c’mon, you love him too,” Cyrus countered, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze.

“Not as much as I love Andi,” she chuckled, linking arms with her girlfriend.

A chorus of ‘aw’s filled the air, and even the trees seemed to be happy, their leaves dancing in the gentle wind. TJ just rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath.

“She’s kidding, she loves you,” Cyrus assured him, “we all do,”

“I know,”

“Let’s go Buffy!” Marty shouted, sans megaphone. Cyrus had offered him one, but after hearing how loud he could really be, he decided that he didn’t need one.

TJ had brought the posters they made. Cyrus’ said ‘YOU CAN’T OUT TUFF THE BUFF’, while TJ’s said ‘SLAYER IS THE BEST PLAYER’. He was really happy with how they turned out, after having TJ write the words.

TJ took a look around. He didn’t recognize anyone there, save for Buffy. He supposed that was what happened when it was a summer team. New friends.

The game had barely started, and Cyrus was already on the edge of his seat. He’d put his sign down after a little while, considering his arms got tired, and reached over to take TJ’s hand. He never thought he’d get to have a simple moment like this. Even surrounded by all these people, it still felt like it was just him and TJ.

“Snacks, anyone? Get your snacks here,” a man shouted, carrying a platter that was strapped around his neck. There was an assortment of pretzels, cotton candy, lemonade, and other things to munch on.

“Yeah, over here!” TJ waved him over, eyeing the cotton candy.

The man stepped over a few people, nearly dropping a container of lemonade on the way there. Scooting through a few pairs of legs, he finally made his way towards TJ and Cyrus. “So what can I get-” he stopped, eyes hardening. Cyrus knitted his brows together, following his gaze. It appeared that he was looking at their hands, but he couldn’t tell.

“-I’m sorry, I can’t,” he shook his head, taking a step back. He looked like he was going to be sick, from what Cyrus could tell.

“Can’t what?” Cyrus asked, shouting over all the cheering.

“You guys are, you know. . .together,” he winced, wrinkling his nose.

“So?” Cyrus cut in, before TJ could even begin to say something. A few other nearby people had turned their heads.

“How can you be out in public like that? It’s gross,” he pointed out. Cyrus could feel TJ shrinking beside him, clearly uncomfortable. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance, before turning back towards the snack man.

“You’re being rude and creating a scene,” Cyrus pointed out, “I don’t understand why you feel the need to come over her and bother us,”

“You’re the one who wanted me to come over,”

“For snacks!” Cyrus cried, shaking his head, “not for a lecture,”

“Well, what I said is true,” he insisted.

That was it; Cyrus had had it. He stood up, still holding TJ’s hand. “No it’s not. You have no idea how hurtful the things you say are. We’re just like everybody else, and I don’t know why that’s so hard for you to see,”

Then there was applause, and not just because someone had made a three-pointer. People were reaching over and patting Cyrus on the back, pointing up at the screens around the arena. Sure enough, Cyrus was on them, and people were freaking out. Most of all Cyrus.

TJ, however, had never felt prouder. He couldn’t believe that Cyrus had stood up for them like that. Scratch that. He knew Cyrus was brave, but he didn’t know he was this brave. He tugged on his hand a little, standing up and cupping his face with his free hand. Boy, he loved him so much. And without a second thought, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The cheering from the stadium and from the players made that moment all the more special. The man with the snacks mumbled something under his breath and walked away, people booing him off the stands.

When they pulled away, Cyrus was so giddy he didn’t know what to do with himself. He took a seat, trying to focus back onto the basketball game, which was already well into the first quarter. Buffy’s team was up by a few points, but it was close. A little too close for comfort.

By the time halftime was over, it was evident that this was going to be a tight game. The teams were tied, much to the dismay of all of Buffy’s friends. Marty was cheering so loud that he was definitely going to lose his voice come tomorrow, but he didn't care. Buffy was playing a great game, and if she was nervous, it sure didn’t show.

“Wait, why do they have to dribble? Why can’t they just run?” Andi muttered, her eyes darting around the court.

“It’s called traveling,” Amber supplied, “it’s against the rules.” She had to thank TJ for that one, always talking her ear off about basketball.

For once, Cyrus knew what was happening in a sport. Between Buffy and TJ, he could point out a good player from a bad one, knew what kind of technique was preferred, and was actually able to call out a bad ref when he saw one.

It felt like the game lasted a few seconds and forever all at the same time. Cyrus blinked, and all of a sudden, it was nearing the end of the fourth quarter. Buffy’s team was down by three points, and time was almost up. One of the girls went for a three-pointed, but someone from the other team shoved her. Miraculously, the ball made it through the basket.

“That’s a foul!” Cyrus cried from the stands, standing up with sudden force. TJ took his hand gently, trying to bring him back down to earth.

“They’re giving her the foul shot, relax, Underdog,” he chuckled, tugging him back down. Usually, TJ would jump at an opportunity to call out a ref on a terrible call, but he felt oddly calm. Yes, he wanted Buffy’s team to wind, but he supposed it was having Cyrus by his side that kept his emotions at bay.

The girl who was fouled, Kaitlin, walked up to the foul line, the sweat trickling down her face. Her breath was heavy, and she was exhausted, but she needed to make this. One shot, and they could win. Just one shot.

She dribbled the ball a few times, spinning it in her hand. After a breath of what one could only consider extreme focus, she launched the ball. Things seem to move in slow motion. It was as if a part of a CD was skipped because the next thing Cyrus knew, Buffy was screaming at the top of her lungs, along with the rest of her team. They’d won!

Cyrus turned to TJ, engulfing in a quick hug before bounding down the bleachers, and nearly tripping over people. Marty was the first one down, shoving people out of the way to get to Buffy and pull her into a hug. And maybe when he thought people were not looking he gave her a quick kiss.

“You did so well!” Cyrus squealed, pulling her into a hug.

“Thanks guys,” she beamed proudly, “the team’s going out to celebrate at Lucky’s. You guys wanna come?”

TJ shook his head. “Nah, this is your moment. You go celebrate with the team. We’ll catch up later,” he gave her a small wave, and Cyrus followed him out.

Marty quirked a brow. “I’m coming,” he announced, latching onto Buffy’s hand and following the team.

The rest of the gang found themselves at the Spoon, all sitting together and enjoying one another’s company. It had been an eventful day, and it was nice to be able to relax.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to school soon,” Jonah mumbled, playing with his napkin.

Amber looked at him funny. “It’s. . .the middle of July, Jonah,”

“I know,” he started, “but it’s just. . .it feels like we’re going to go back so soon. I don’t want summer to end,”

“Me neither,” Cyrus mumbled, peering up at TJ, before pulling out his journal from his pocket. He flipped to the back and copied down the words from his phone.

verklempt: feeling so overwhelmed with emotions

“You still keep that?” Andi asked, “I quit after the mandatory week,”

“I loved this assignment,” he noted, shutting the journal, “best thing that’s ever happened to me,”

TJ placed a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically. “How you wound me,”

Cyrus giggled, giving his arm a swat. “Oh shut up, you know I love you,”

“I know,”

September 1, 1989. Okay no, not really, but Cyrus was listening to Heathers while getting ready in the morning, which coincidentally happened to be September 1. He was bouncing with so much energy he omitted having coffee that morning.

[teej <33: im outside when you’re ready]

He smiled so widely at that. TJ had promised to give him rides to school, and honestly that was probably the best part of his day. Maybe even better than the journalism class itself. Hurrying out the door with a muffin in his hand, he awkwardly jogged to TJ’s car.

“Morning,” he greeted, tapping the steering wheel lightly, “how are you?”

Cyrus smiled, setting his bag down in his lap and shutting the door. “I’m so excited,” he squealed, reaching for his buckle.

TJ laughed, signaling to leave the driveway. “Really? You’re happy to go back to school? Summer was, like, the best,”

Cyrus nods, taking a bite of his muffin. “I know, but journalism class, TJ!”

TJ shook his head, backing out of the driveway and heading towards the school. “Yeah, I guess I’m looking forward to that too,”

“You guess,” he mumbled, staring out the window.

“Okay, but you’re not the one that has a crappy schedule,” TJ countered.

Cyrus shrugged. “But you’ll get to see me at the end of the day,” he pointed out.

TJ smiled, turning into the parking lot. “Yeah, there’s that,” he agreed, shutting off the engine. The two of them grabbed their belongings, and left the car. Cyrus glanced down at their hands, and took TJ’s in his.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, as they paused in front of the doors.

TJ nodded, giving Cyrus’ hand a squeeze. “Of course,”

Most of the day was a blur, as was the first day of school. It felt like they were being herded around like sheep, and at some point, they reached the last period of the day. Cyrus had no idea how his feet dragged him to Mrs. Lorac’s classroom, but there he was, sitting in his chair with TJ beside him, and all his friends near him. He was really going to love this class.

“Alright, class,” she started, shutting the door, “take out your journals,”

Bags zipped open and people fished through their backpacks, pulling out their respective journals. The teacher walked around, skimming through the students’ journals, before placing them back on their desk. When she got to Cyrus’ and TJ’s, it almost looked like she was smiling at the pictures, and the progression of their story. Again, she placed them on the table, and started to walk back to her desk.

“You’re not going to grade them or collect them?” Cyrus asked.

She took a seat at her desk, propping her head up with her elbows. “I mean I’ll put in a grade that you did it, but the assignment was mostly for you, you know? I’m sure a lot of you had things happen that you didn’t expect because of this. Anyone?”

It was quiet for a moment, everybody waiting for someone else to make the first move. Amber sheepishly rose her hand, and the teacher nodded in her direction.

“I, uh, learned how to make crafts,” she supplied, looking to Andi for a moment, who offered a warm smile.

Jonah put his hand up next. “I came out to my mom,” he mumbled. It was quiet, but people caught on, a few of them applauding him and Walker patting him on the back.

“I got better at face painting,” Walker chuckled.

“I learned some sign language,” a girl piped up, signing as she spoke.

“Good, good!” the teacher said, a small smile on her face, “what about you, TJ? Cyrus?”

TJ smiled, ducking his head a little. “. . .what love is,”

Cue the chorus of ‘aws’. TJ ducked his head a little further, trying to hide his blush. There was so much he could say on what he learned, but he opter for keeping it simple.

“And you, Cyrus?”

“I. . gosh, where do I start,” he chuckled, “I think I learned,” he paused, glancing up at TJ, “how to be a better person. When to step in, when to back off,”

Mrs. Lorac seemed satisfied with his answer. “I’m glad you all got something out of this. Now for your first assignment, you need to report on a problem or issue here at school. It can be big, small, whatever you please. Due to me by the end of the week,”

She went on to explain the rules and expectations, but Cyrus could barely hear her. He was too engulfed in writing down his idea for the project; the school didn’t have a GSA, and Cyrus though that with one, all kids could feel welcomed and supported. Mrs. Lorac gave them the rest of the period to brainstorm what they wanted to write about for their project.

Too soon for Cyrus, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Everyone packed up their things, exhausted from the day of activities, and started to file out of the classroom. Cyrus and TJ walked together, but Cyrus stopped at Mrs. Lorac’s desk.

“What do people do with their journals? Since you’re not collecting them,” he asked.

She smiled, happy to answer. “A lot of things. Some keep the journal, some forget, naturally. I’ve seen some pretty cool art projects done with it. A couple people did a time capsule, some try and publish them, but that hasn’t worked out so far,” she chuckled to herself.

Cyrus lit up, a playful smile on his face. “Thanks Mrs. Lorac,” he said, walking out with TJ, who gave her a small wave. He started walking towards TJ’s car, a certain lightness in his step.

“What are you thinking about?” TJ chuckled, tossing his things in the trunk.

“You’ll see,” he said, hopping in the passenger’s seat.

“Remind me why I’m also getting out of the car at your house?” TJ asked, shutting his door as Cyrus dragged him along. He tugged him into the backyard and stopped all of a sudden, turning to face him.

“I wanna make a time capsule,” he said softly, “like what Mrs. Lorac said. So that years from now, I can look back and smile,”

TJ grinned, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Alright, let’s do it,”

The two of them went up to Cyrus’ room and tried to find all the things they could to put in their time capsule, the container of which would be an old metal lunch box that Cyrus used to use. He snapped a picture of the words, not wanting to forget them. It was a little bittersweet, having to part with his journal for a while, but he knew that he would thank his past self. Inside, they placed their journals, a few pictures of them, including the one of them at the Christmas store, and a copy of the best muffin recipes ever.

TJ tapped his chin, eyeing the polaroid camera sitting on Cyrus’ desk. “It needs one more thing,” he decided, reaching over and grabbing the camera.

“Really? What?”

“This,” he murmured, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Cyrus’ lips, attempting to snap of a photo of it. It was silly and kind of childish, but hearing Cyrus giggling as he melted into the kiss was all he needed. Pulling back, he felt his cheeks flush, so he tried to focus on the picture that was coming out. Granted, it was a bit blurry, but he thought it was perfect nonetheless. Both boys signed their names on the back with a little heart, and placed it in the little box, shutting it with a click.

“Now we bury it?” TJ assumed, drumming his fingers on the box. Cyrus nodded, and the two of them headed into the backyard.

“I will let you do the shoveling,” Cyrus offered, handing him a shovel.

“Oh, how kind of you,” TJ chuckled, accepting the shovel and glancing around for a place to start digging, “is by that tree okay?” he asked, to which Cyrus nodded. The start of the process was difficult, trying to break through the ground, but from there, it wasn’t that bad. Yes, he was sweating and was breathing a little heavier, but it was totally worth it. Once he thought that he’d gotten deep enough, he let Cyrus place it gently into the hole before he covered it back with dirt, patting it firmly on the back.

“I kind of want to dig it up again,” Cyrus chuckled, pressing his body against TJ’s.

“That’s not the point of this, you know,” he smiled, resting his head on top of Cyrus’.

“Do you think someone’s going to find this someday?” Cyrus wondered aloud.

“I hope so,” he replied softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Maybe someone would never find their time capsule. Maybe the two of them would be the only ones that know about it, but maybe they’d eventually forget. Maybe none of this would matter in a few years. But right now, it was everything. And that was just okay for them.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush || @tyrus-lookback || @gaycefulwords || @theobligatedklutz || @bambikippen ||

[mistressarafax]

Maybe more specific than you wanted but it'd love your take on Anzu's surprise visit to Jou's in 'Letting Go'. You said that it happened but not much more, and it was a super funny concept it'd love to know more about.

Thanks for the request! This one was super fun, and I made it a little longer than I’d actually meant to. Oh well! Hope you enjoy!

~~~

Anzu hadn’t expected any free time during her trip to San Francisco. The schedule had been packed full for the entire week. The local dance troupe she was instructing for the week had brought her in and were paying for her whole trip. Yet, somehow, despite the busy schedule, she ended up with free time on her last night there.

Because she hadn’t expected any time off, she hadn’t bothered telling Jounouchi that she was going to be around. Which meant she now had the opportunity to surprise him. She’d sent him a vague message, hoping to figure out if he was home or not before making the trip to his house. Getting there wasn’t exactly going to be cheap, and there was no reason to waste the money if he was out for the night.

It didn’t take a lot. A simple message in the group chat.

Anzu: I’m so bored. I hope everyone else has some exciting plans for the weekend.

Because of the time difference, she didn’t expect anyone besides Jounouchi to reply. After a few minutes, he lived up to her expectations.

Jounouchi: I’m just hanging out at home. Best place to be after a busy week working.

Perfect.

She got dressed, applied a light coat of make-up, and arranged herself a ride to Jounouchi’s.

Fifty minutes later, she stood on the stoop in front of his house. It took him awhile to answer the door, but she couldn’t blame him considering how unexpected her visit was. The porch light flicked on and the door swung open, revealing a very startled Jounouchi.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed, grin on her face

“Uhhh…hey,” Jounouchi returned, less enthusiastically.

“Aww,” she pouted. “You aren’t excited to see me?”

“I am happy to see ya. I just…uhh… I got company,” he said.

“Company?” she asked, voice raising suggestively.

Jounouchi flushed. “Ah, yeah. Well, come in, I guess.” He stepped out of the way, and Anzu walked through the doorway, curiosity piqued. Who was Jounouchi so embarrassed about having over?

She rounded the corner into the living room and stopped short as she noted Kaiba sitting on Jounouchi’s couch, whatever they’d been watching on TV casting a soft glow on his face. She smiled to herself. So she hadn’t been imagining things six months ago. Kaiba and Jounouchi were into each other.

“Hey, Kaiba, we got a surprise visitor.”

Kaiba turned, met her eyes, and then, after a fraction of a second, heaved a loud, irritated sigh. With a dramatic huff, he stood up and moodily left the room, loudly tromping his way to the kitchen. She fought back a giggle. With as much as Kaiba had pitched a fit about her presence, she knew she’d definitely interrupted something.

Jounouchi sighed, and then started explaining before she could ask. “So uh, yeah. I’m seein’ Kaiba. It’s only been a few months, so I ain’t told no one yet.”

“I’m only surprised because I didn’t know you’d broken up with Alexa.”

“I broke up wit’ Alexa,” Jounouchi deadpanned.

“Kaiba has already rubbed off on you, it seems,” Anzu noted teasingly. “Being all sarcastic.”

He cracked a smile, fiddling with his fingers as he sat down. “She actually broke up wit’ me. Told me to give things wit’ Kaiba a shot. I owe her a lot, honestly.”

Anzu hummed thoughtfully, taking a seat on the adjacent recliner. “I kind of figured there might have been something going on between you and Kaiba when I visited last. You just seemed…so close to each other.”

“Yeah. And then ya went and told Yugi about it. Ya know he tracked down Kaiba to give ‘im a lecture about not hurtin’ me?”

“He did?” Anzu asked incredulously.

Jounouchi nodded. “He sure did.”

“I only told him that I’d gotten the impression that Kaiba liked you. I didn’t mean for him to do anything about it. It was an observation.”

“It’s fine,” Jounouchi assured. “Kaiba and I are datin’ now, so it ain’t like it matters. It’s been since my birthday, actually. So like three months.”

“That’s cute, Jou. You seem happy with him, too, and honestly, that’s the only thing that matters.”

“I am. We actually get along great.”

Anzu smiled. “That’s almost astounding to hear, all things considered. But really, Jou-kun, I’m happy for you.” She reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He returned a grateful smile.

“Thanks. I ain’t told nobody else yet. Yugi knows, but he’s promised not to say anythin’. Just don’t tell anyone else about it. I’m not like…ready to come out yet.”

“I understand. I won’t say a word,” she promised.

She looked up when Kaiba’s shadow loomed over her, offering her a drink with a scowl on his face. She took it from him.

Jounouchi spoke up before she could thank Kaiba. “Hey, thanks Seto! S'real thoughtful of ya.”

“Hn.” Noncommittal, but he handed Jounouchi the other drink he carried in his opposite hand.

“Ya gettin’ one for yourself?” Jounouchi asked.

“Mmm,” Kaiba hummed as he wandered back into the kitchen, and Anzu watched the interaction in awe.

“Is he always so quiet? That’s not exactly how I remember him being.”

“Nah. He’s just bein’ antisocial 'cause you’re here.”

“I interrupted something, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Well, um… yeah. The movie wasn’t really gonna be about watchin’ the movie, ya know?”

Anzu giggled at the way Jounouchi’s face turned crimson. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Kaiba wandered back in, carrying his own glass of what appeared to be water and eyeing Anzu suspiciously as she laughed. He settled down on the couch beside Jounouchi, though he kept space between them by pressing himself against the armrest, legs crossed. He radiated discomfort until Jounouchi reached out and took his hand, scooting closer to him until their thighs touched. Anzu didn’t miss how Kaiba’s tension unwound at the contact.

“So what are ya here for, Anzu-chan?” Jounouchi asked.

“Instructing a dance troupe. They’re paying for my hotel for the week, and since I wasn’t supposed to have any free time, I never mentioned I’d be in the area. But then we finished up early today, and I figured I’d drop by and surprise you.”

“I’m definitely surprised.”

“I really am sorry for interrupting your evening,” Anzu apologized. “Next time, I’ll give you a heads up first.”

Jounouchi grinned sheepishly. “It would be appreciated.”

Very quietly, she heard Kaiba mutter, “She better.”

She bit back the laugh that threatened to escape. Kaiba was clearly more irritated about the interruption than Jounouchi, which was kind of cute, honestly. It humanized the impulsive CEO just as much as the way he sat in sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding Jounouchi’s hand. It made him look content, and Anzu didn’t think Kaiba had felt much contentment in his life.

She stayed and chatted for a while longer, though she knew she should get going. She could feel Kaiba’s eyes on her, silently telling her to leave. But Jounouchi was doing most of the talking, filling her in on his life and dropping casual details about his and Kaiba’s relationship throughout.

As she listened to him, she pulled her phone out to arrange herself a ride back into the city. When the GPS indicated that her driver had pulled into Jounouchi’s neighborhood, she stood up from her seat and announced, “Hey, I’m going to get going and let you two get back to your 'movie’.” She made air quotes as she said it. They weren’t going to watch the movie. Jounouchi had said as much. Kaiba made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, but Jounouchi rested his cheek on Kaiba’s shoulder, shooting Anzu a lecherous grin and his hand trailing up Kaiba’s thigh.

“Oh. We definitely will.”

Kaiba groaned and removed himself from Jounouchi. “You’re incorrigible,” Kaiba grumbled, slinking off to the kitchen again.

Jounouchi just shrugged and stood up. “It was good seein’ you again, Anzu-chan.” He wrapped her in a tight hug.

“You too, Jou-kun. I’ll see you next time. And I’ll call in advance.”

“You better,” he teased, releasing her and stepping away. Kaiba came back into the living room, and Jounouchi pressed against his side, arm loosely wrapping around Kaiba’s waist.

“See you later, Kaiba-san,” she said, giving the tall brunet a small wave.

He nodded in return. “Goodnight, Mazaki-san.”

With farewells exchanged, she bounded out of Jounouchi’s house. She relished the jubilant feeling that accompanied being right about something. And they were actually really cute together. They had a subtle chemistry, speaking volumes through only slight movements and gestures. That’s exactly what she’d noticed in their interactions six months ago that had made her curious about what was going on. Now, those interactions were even more obvious, and it left little room for doubt. It was sweet and touching and put a smile on her face as she hopped into the Uber taking her back to her hotel.

[paladin-andric]

Blackheart, Chapter 31: A Final Respite

It had been quite some time. Deep in the heart of the Citadel, things had changed considerably.

A while ago, the survivors had evacuated to the countryside. Before they did so, Basilrin was sent to bring word of the situation to the surrounding lands, in hopes of summoning the forces needed to push to the Blackheart.

The portal was said to be in the very center of the city. To get there, all they needed to do was take the main road. Only problem was the demons. Their corrupted thralls swarmed the main streets en-masse. It was why they had spent their time creeping down alleyways and side streets.

Soon...soon, the time for skulking would come to an end. Soon, the army would begin their assault.

Alexander ran the blade of his sword over a whetstone, looking it over carefully. He had forgone wearing his armor, seeing as it had been a few days since Basilrin’s return.

It was quite the wonder, seeing not only his return, but the arrival of the Lady Protector herself, Gira. The Black Dragon, as she was called, arguably the most important figure in all of Geralthin. She had been there for the entirety of its history, after all.

She and Basilrin had assured them that the army was indeed on its way. Already a few of those towns and villages nearby had arrived, a few guards and citizens armed with the bare essentials now joining them in the Citadel.

It was a good start, but they had to await the mass of royal forces before they could dare start their push.

Gira was another one. Now they had three dragons. That was three beasts of legend to rain destruction on their foes. Alexander could only imagine how marvelous that kind of support would be for the army.

All in all, things were looking quite hopeful. With a force like this assembled, pushing through the city really seemed more than a mere pipe dream.

All they had to do was cause a gap, if only for a moment, in the demons’ defenses. Then Alexander could slip through, enter the Blackheart, and destroy whatever artifact was anchoring the portal to their world.

“Hey.”

The knight turned to see Wurie walking up to him. The wolfman took a seat on the ground beside the knight, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Hey captain. What’s the matter?”

Wurie looked off into the distance as Alexander continued sharpening his blade. “I just...can hardly believe it, you know? That we’re so close.”

“It won’t be long now,” the knight answered.

“It’s been quite the journey.”

Alexander smiled. “Yeah. I think we’ve all learned things from this.”

“Really? I feel like you’ve been the one teaching ME here, sir knight!”

The man shook his head and sighed. “You should know better than that, Wurie.”

The wolfman frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Captain, when I first came here...I must admit that I didn’t feel the same way about you and the others then I do now.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well...I was raised surrounded by other humans. Not once had I even laid eyes upon another species, aside from Stilich, the doctor.”

“Stilich?”

“One of the shellbacks,” Alexander admitted, “Father hired him to take care of us...but that was the extent of my knowledge. He was one of a kind as far as I was concerned. When I joined the army, I was deployed at the northern border. There, was my first experience with the wolves...with your people, Wurie.”

The captain grimaced. “Not, uh...not a good impression,” he whispered, his voice reflecting pain.

“That’s an understatement. I thought your people were animals, barbarians, monsters...I had a similar view for many of the peoples of Geralthin. In truth, the edict didn’t rattle me as much as it probably should have...it meeting Sigvin to change my mind about a “universal evil”. Even then I thought he was the exception, but now...I see I was quite mistaken.”

“Sigvin?” Wurie’s brows furrowed. “Alexander, you said...Sigvin?”

“Yeah. We commissioned him as pathfinder, during one of our expeditions into tribal territory. We chatted at the camp. Told me all sorts of stories about him and his people. Really helped me understand the wolfmen more than I did.”

Wurie’s eyes were a near sliver now.

“What? What’s with that funny look?”

“Alexander...was...was Sigvin a bard?”

The knight was caught off guard by that one. “He...mentioned he wanted to become one...how on earth did you know that? Wurie, have you met him?”

The captain gave Alexander a serious look. “...follow me.”

He paused only to put his whetstone away and sheathe his sword before he hurried after Wurie. The implications behind this left only one possibility…

Turning past another group of tents, Wurie called out to a figure facing a firepit. “Sigvin!”

The person turned around, sitting on a small wooden stump. In a rather puffy, fanciful striped and dyed suit, was a familiar face. Sure, the clothes, quilled hat, and lute was a far cry to the rags he was wearing all those years ago, but Alexander recognized him all the same.

“Sigvin...you’ve got a friend here.”

The unarmored knight stepped forward, eyes widening. It wasn’t just a shared name. It was him. It was really him.

“Sigvin…?”

The wolfman bard frowned. “Err, I’m sorry. You might be…?”

“It’s me, remember?! It’s Alexander! From the war up north? The Pureclaws!”

The bard’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall those memories. In a moment, his eyes shot open. “A-Alexander?!”

“Yeah! It’s me!”

The wolfman jumped up excitedly and put his lute down. “Hoo boy...Alexander! How have you been, friend?!”

The knight laughed as Sigvin grabbed and shook his hand wildly. “Ah, you know! Pretty busy. How the hell did you end up all the way down here?!”

“I TOLD you I was gonna move to Geralthin! I even went to college! All was going according to plan when, uh...this all happened.”

“Right...you were kicked off with the rest of the exiled.”

“Mmhm. I must say, I saw you here before, but I never imagined the man under the armor would be you!”

Alexander shrugged. “Well, here I am regardless! God I can’t believe we’ve been so close all this time!”

“I’ve been...unable to be of much help,” Sigvin admitted with a sheepish smile. “I, uh...I’ve been hiding back here. Thinking, mostly.”

“Well, why didn’t you leave with the other citizens?”

“Because he wants to help!” Wurie said with a grin, “Isn’t that right, Sigvin?”

“Yessir!”

The knight tapped his foot, looking worried. “Ah, but...what are you planning on doing, than? Not joining the front line, I’d hope!”

“Oh goodness no. I’ve never been a warrior, you know that! I AM a bard, though. My music does more than you might expect. I hope to rally and inspire the real warriors when we attack!”

“You really have become what you’ve always wanted, huh?”

“That’s right!” Sigvin said with a grin, “My dreams are...well, they WERE coming true...but hopefully! Hopefully, after all this, I can finally get back on track!”

Wurie nodded. “You will. We’ll see to that, won’t we, Alexander!”

“Yes...we will. I must say Wurie, it’s good to see you looking up like this. You, uh...weren’t in high spirits, the last few times we spoke.”

“What can you do?” the captain asked with a shrug. “I’ve been seeing and hearing some awful things. It takes its toll, but...it’s almost over. We’re so close. If there’s a time to believe, it’s right now.”

Alexander smiled. Despite everything, even the most mournful seemed full of hope now.

“Hope is a powerful thing to have. We’ll see this through Wurie, I swear.”

The trio sat around the firepit, Alexander looking back at Sigvin. “So...got any songs planned for all of this?”

The bard smiled. “Ah, well I’ve got a few popular tunes, but generally I let the music take me where it goes.” His smile quickly turned into a frown. “I do have...one song in the works though. An...ode to your friend, Alexander. The red dragon. Hopefully, my song will travel across the land once this is over, and all will sing of his sacrifice. I figured such an individual deserves nothing less.”

Alexander’s face scrunched up. “Ah. I see...I’m sure he’d be proud.”

Sigvin nodded sadly. “Yeah. I think he would.”

…

“Hey…”

The holy man didn’t look up as he continued reflecting over the words of the scripture. “Yes?”

“I, uh...I’m going to go with them, you know!”

Andric frowned. The paladin opened his eyes and turned his gaze to Senci, visage firm.

“I would strongly advise against that.”

The kobold looked hurt by that. “Oh, come on, master! They’re counting on me to help them!”

“And I’m counting on you to make it through this in one piece.”

“I’ll make it through just fine! I can do it, you know I can! I was trained by the best, after all.”

“Senci…”

“I’ve make it this far, haven’t I?!”

Andric turned around, shifting from kneeling into a sitting position. The pair were inside a tent, taking stock of their inventory and preparing for the final battle.

“I just don’t want anything to happen. I heard about your little stint in the medical tent, you know.”

“But master-”

“What if that happens again?”

“Master Andric…”

“You nearly died, Senci! I cannot abide by this! If I were to let you leave my sight, you could-”

Something snapped inside of Senci, if only for a moment. For the first time since he could remember, he snapped at his mentor.

“I’m not a damned child anymore!”

Andric’s brows raised at the kobold’s shrill yell. He couldn’t remember the man ever being stricken silent like this, but these were exceptional circumstances.

The young warrior felt immense shame and regret almost immediately. He could feel the heat well up in his face and fear creep over him as he looked at his stunned father figure.

“I...I’m sorry…”

The paladin grimaced as he looked the other warrior over. The small lizard shifted uncomfortably, head lowered and eyes full of guilt. Like he was about to be lectured.

Andric sighed. “It’s...fine. I understand. I know this is important to you. I just...I came all this way to make sure you were alright, you know? If something happened, I…”

The man’s lips pursed. “...I don’t know what I’d do. Over a decade, Senci. For twelve years, I’ve been making sure you were okay. For twelve years, schooling and training you...”

“I...I know,” Senci said quietly, “B-but, master...you...you have to let me try! I’m a grown up now!”

Andric shot the kobold a guilty grin and scratched his beard. “Well, actually, you’re still a year away from being an adult at the moment…”

“T-that’s close enough!” Senci insisted. “Listen...I...I’m thankful for everything, really, I am. I’m so lucky I have you to train me...but eventually, you have to put that training to the test! Master...you must let me loose on our enemies! You’ve prepared me for this moment, and I must follow through now! I can’t be useless in this battle, I can’t let everyone down! I HAVE to help!”

Andric frowned and closed his eyes, reflecting on the kobold’s words. Eventually, he opened his eyes and moved forward, wrapping his arms around the young warrior.

“Senci...I know. I know I can’t stop you from doing this...and I understand how much this means to you. You can go.”

Smiling with wide eyes, Senci returned the hug, Andric patting him on the shoulder.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“The only way you could do that, Senci, is if you didn’t come back...so make sure you do, alright?”

Senci grinned wide. “Yes sir!”

…

Razorwing pulled back on his bow, getting a feel for the tension. He sat on the ground beside the tent he had been staying in, his supplies laid out around him.

After this brief test of his bowstring, it seemed like all was in order. He had brought a few extra with him just in case it snapped, but there didn’t seem to be many issues. He’d been using this one for about a year, but he was very fussy about maintenance, so everything still worked as intended.

“Is that the great hero Razorwing, playing around with an unloaded bow?”

The bird turned his head towards the source. Of course, there was no mistaking that voice, despite the additional cheer it seemed to be carrying today.

“You work with crossbows. You know full well the need to test and maintain.”

The human sat down beside him. Despite the mask, his eyes made his amusement clear.

“Obviously. I’m messing with you, dope.”

The koutu shot him a cocky grin. “You sure? You know, if you don’t know about weapon upkeep, I could teach you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright, ya dumb bird.” A light punch to the shoulder made the hero chuckle.

Paul took out one of his own crossbows and looked it over. It was a fair bit smaller than the ones the armies used, seeing as this was made with the ability to hold and fire with one hand. Still, it had enough force behind it, and the bolts were large enough to still be deadly. The downside was that without the heft of the larger models, punching through armor proved...problematic.

Not that this was generally a problem for Paul. As a bounty hunter, he generally worked to end combat before it began. He’d become a good enough shot and a quiet enough sneak to hit targets in their weak spots, while they were unexpecting.

“Hard to believe it’s almost over huh?” the human mused.

“Yes...quite remarkable. We’ve come quite a far way, we have.” Razorwing put his bow down and grabbed his quiver, beginning to examine his arrows.

“It’s been rough. The close scrapes, the demons...listening to you blabber on about nonsense,” Paul said with a laugh.

“Oh? You got pretty mad when I stopped ‘blabbering’ though, didn’t you?”

The bounty hunter looked away as the koutu grinned like mad. “Well...you know how it is...the silence in this hellhole is maddening. Any voice is a relief...no matter how dumb what they’re saying is.”

The archer raised a brow. “Oh ho! I see! So what you’re saying is I’m just a voice to you, huh? Just a distraction? Just something any other person could have been?”

“T-that’s not what I meant!”

The hero put a winged arm around the human’s shoulders. Shooting him a grin, he leaned in. “Don’t worry! I’m just...what was it you said? ‘Messing with you, dope’?”

Paul groaned, which drew another laugh from Razorwing.

“Seriously, though. You and I, friend...we’ll go far, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by that?” with the birdman’s wing still wrapped around him, he looked over questioningly.

“You remember how well we worked in the streets. How long we spent without the luxury of a team, or any support. Just the two of us, against the demons. The scouting we did for each other...we make a perfect duo, don’t you think?”

Paul looked away, sighing. “We, uh...you’re right, but...I don’t know.”

“Aw, come on, pal! No one can beat a team like us!”

“I know,” Paul admitted, “We make an excellent team. Still...I don’t know if I’ll...be doing this in the future.”

Razorwing frowned. “Huh? What’s...what’s that mean?”

“Look. You’re a famous hero. You fight monsters, and lead parades, and have songs sung of you...and I’m a shadow. No one besides you knows my identity. I stalk the shadows. I slit the throats of thieves and killers. I hide from the fame that comes with the work I do. I’ve built a reputation as an ender of lives...despite no one knowing who I am.”

The hero gave him a funny look. “You’re saying we’re incompatible?”

“Well, that’s one part of it-”

He was cut short by Razorwing squeezing him, tightening his arm’s grip around the man.

“Come on, Crux! We’ve been through enough to know that’s nonsense!”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Argh. You wanna let me breathe, bird?”

“Very well.” Razorwing let go of him, the pair sitting beside one another once more.

“Hah. Well, besides that...I have an identity to keep concealed. We were able to do that AND work together because, well...we’re in a fog-covered city cut off from the outside world. If we started working together once this is over...I fear your renown, and the attention you draw would...make my secret impossible to keep.”

It seemed to finally dawn on the hero, now. His gaze softened, turning into a saddened, wincing visage.

“Ah. I...I see. You...we can’t...be friends anymore.”

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause. Both of them had their heads down, unable to look the other in the eye.

Paul’s voice caught Razorwing off guard.

“You know...you’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

The archer blinked, eye widening. “Paul…?”

“I, uh...I made an effort to keep my distance from everyone...just so something like this wouldn’t happen.”

The human looked over at Razorwing. The koutu’s head hung low, looking defeated.

“I...there must be something we can do…”

Paul crossed his arms, his weapons checking long forgotten. “Is there...some place you go to all the time? I don’t know if I could leave a paper trail to keep in touch, but if we happened to be around the same places…”

Razorwing smirked. “I’m all over the place. The parades and plays and, well, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Well, my estate’s always open to you. Hey, maybe you could come over sometime and meet Eignach!” “Eignach…?”

The koutu looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? We’re...together.” There was a short pause before Razorwing continued hurriedly. “Err, that’s uh, why I wanted to tell you, by the way, that I’m spoken for. I didn’t mean to...hit on you. I-I don’t drink, so, uhh...I wasn’t thinking clearly. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it...lightweight.” Paul was grinning. The way the fabric around his mouth was stretching gave it away.

“Well EXCUSE me for practicing a bit of clean living!” the hero laughed and shook his head. “Well, at any rate, we’ve been together for...not too long. We were just friends at first. Poor fellow was expelled from the kingdom during the exile. He grew up in Geralthin. He may be one of my people in body, but culturally, he was a human. Our homeland was alien and frightening to him. I took him in, seeing as he lost his home and...the rest is history.”

“A bird frightened of his own flock…” Paul pulled out his dagger and inspected it for any nicks and scratches.

“I suppose! He’s adapted well, though. You know he was a fan of mine? He was absolutely starstruck when we met. Even fainted and everything!”

“Everyone has a hero to look up to, I guess. You happened to be his.”

“That’s right.”

Razorwing turned to look at the human, still running his hand along his dagger.

“Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “Whatever happens out there...we’re a team, alright? I’ve got your back.”

Paul lowered his dagger, turning to look at the archer. His eyes ran over the other man, taking him in.

“And I’ve got yours.” He held a gloved hand out to the koutu, who took it without hesitation. The pair shook.

“Domnall...it’s been a pleasure. Let’s cast these beasts back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Razorwing radiated confidence as he sat up straight. “Hah! The armies of hell themselves will learn to fear our names!”

Paul nodded, a smirk etched in his mask. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s you and I give em’ something to call hell...bird.”

…

“Looks like everything’s ready.”

“Just about.”

The man and woman were sitting inside a small tent, just the two of them and their supplies. The man was sitting idle, while the woman was chewing on a piece of jerky. He looked at her with a near unreadable expression.

“Hungry?” she asked in between bites. He shook his head.

“Not a fan of jerky?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t care what I eat, Leianna. I’m just not hungry right now.”

The cleric shrugged, still chewing. “Suit yourself.” Taking another bite, she looked off to the side in thought. “Man, all they’ve got left around here is cheese and jerky.”

“Not much else can last months without spoiling,” Lexius noted.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Food’s food, and cheese and jerky are damn fine.”

Lexius sighed. The priest looked sullen and out of it. Leianna noticed this, and gave him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just...I wish I could have...been of more use.”

“How so?”

The man held his hands out. “I...I was poor support on the field. I’m an awful combatant. I spent half my time here bedridden. I failed to come prepared. I...I even...Leianna, if I had been with you when we split into two groups...perhaps Basilrin’s brother and Tourthun would be-”

“Hey. Monk boy.” Leianna gave him a firm glare, as if chastising him. “Listen to me, you fool. You came here of your own volition. You waltzed into a hellhole full of the darkest beings the world can offer with scrappy armor, a chipped iron blade and a tiny wooden shield. You never trained for combat. You healed a goddamned DRAGON, Lexius.”

He was about to respond, but Leianna put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “You kicked ass out here. No one expected some guy from a church to make it this far, but here you are.”

The priest lowered his head and laughed. Leianna raised a brow. “Err...Lexius?”

“Heh...yeah, I guess you’re right. No use in feeling sorry for myself. I did what I could. That’s...all you can really do.”

“Hey, that’s the spirit!” Leianna grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ve got plenty of things I wish I’d done differently too, but there’s no turning back the clock. You live with what you do, and you do the best you can.”

Lexius looked up at the cleric hopefully. “Sister Leianna...could you join me in prayer?”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She shoved the rest of the jerky in her mouth, chewing loudly as she rushed to finish her meal.

Lexius took out his cross, from under his armor. The small, wooden symbol appeared hand-carved by him, if its quality was any indication.

Leianna wiped her mouth and took out her own, pulling it from a pouch. The handheld crosses were more good luck charms than anything, not blessed or magical in any way. It was a simple reminder of God, carried on each church member’s person to serve as a constant source of hope and faith.

Lexius bowed his head, cross clutched underneath his hand and held onto by both hands. Leianna followed the gesture.

“Through God and the intercession of Saint Martin, we stand firm against the work of the enemy,” Lexius said, his voice low and clear.

“We thought we may have died and been sent to the underworld for our transgressions, for we are surrounded by grinning faces of demons,” Leianna continued. The pair continued to alternate between each line.

“Even in death, even in the underworld, despite our true odds, we will never waver. Such is the burden of the faithful.”

Lexius’ eyes were squeezed tight as he brought the prayer to a close. “Guide us now, for we do the bidding of the Lord, our God. Allow us to fulfill our duty, no matter the cost. No matter the cost…”

“Amen.”

Despite having reached the end, Lexius did not rise as Leianna had.

“No matter the cost…”

The cleric looked at the priest with a notable degree of concern. “Lexius…?”

“No matter the cost…”

…

“This catastrophe was man-made! I’ve seen it for myself!” Charles stood among a group of humans, the first few militiamen who had answered the call. Several of them, in their light uniforms of cloth and wielding simple weapons, leered at him in disdain.

Though Alexander and the others had been through enough with the magician to trust him, but as he had always been told, the common folk saw him as little more than a monstrous chimera.

“What the hell do you know?!” one of the levies shouted, eliciting cries of agreement throughout the crowd.

“I recovered documents from the college! One of the wizards said himself that he did it!”

“Oh yeah?! Where’s your proof?”

Charles frowned. “I gave them to my friend, the professor. He left with the rest of the citizens in the evacuation.”

“How awfully convenient,” one of the men mused. A few voice called out in agreement once more.

“Whatever!” the dragonoid cried, throwing his hands up, “I don’t care if you believe me or not! The truth will come out on its own!”

“Yeah right. I bet YOU did it!”

“M-me?!” Charles reeled back, “Why would I do that?!”

“It’s in your blood!” Cheers erupted through the crowd at those words, the magician clutching at his shoulders defensively.

“T-that’s not true. I make my own path...my origins do not determine my future…”

“Yeah, right! Say, if you’re one of them...I wonder if you’ve got any secrets you’re hiding…?”

A few men stepped forward, their stances clearly hostile. Their eyes glinted with malicious intent, and their grin were anything but friendly.

“W-what’s this?!” Charles shouted, shaken. He backed up, nervous about where this was going.

“Why are you wearing that?” one of the men asked, reaching out for his wizard hat. Though he grabbed it, Charles threw his arm away, clutching onto the hat possessively.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch my things! They aren’t yours!”

The man smirked. “Are you hiding something under there, beast?”

Their approach quickened, even as the dragonoid began backpedaling.

“L-leave me alone! Stop it!”

“Show us what you’re hiding!” Several shouts rang out through the Citadel. Some from the mob of soldiers, some from citizens around the camp that saw what was happening.

Charles, focused on the approaching men, failed to notice a rock behind him. His foot slipped as he tripped over it, falling to the ground on his back. He sat up, and just as it looked like the mob was about to descend on him…

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Blinking, the fallen dragonoid looked over to the source of the bellowing voice. Sure enough, the knight was stomping over, though not in his armor. Still, he had his sword on his hip, and looked suitably authoritative enough anyway. Behind him, a few others followed, most notably Wurie.

“Causing trouble, are we?”

The knight’s demeanor seemed to shake the mob of levies out of it, many quickly backing away from Charles.

“W-we were just-”

“Harassing the people you were sent to help? Yeah, I noticed. What’s next? Gonna mug a few of the wolves? Attack the birds?”

“No,” a single voice answered meekly. The knight scowled at the group.

“Which one of you imbeciles is in command here?” He demanded. A lone soldier answered.

“Captain Howard, sir. He’s outside.”

Alexander stepped forward and grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him close. The others gasped, but didn’t interfere.

“Tell your captain to get his men under control,” he growled, voice dripping with venomous hostility, “NOW.”

“Y-yessir,” he squeaked, stumbling backwards as Alexander released him.

“Crawl on out of here, all of you. You’re not welcome.”

As the group turned to leave back through the sewers, the knight called out one last time.

“If I catch you attacking any more citizens, you’ll be hanging from his majesty’s gallows for treason!”

As the group fled, Alexander turned to Charles, still sitting on the ground. He quickly extended a hand. “You all right?”

“I-I think so.” the magician grabbed the man’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet with a grunt.

“Ah...thank you, Alexander.”

“Don’t worry about it. The nerve…!”

Charles smiled as he dusted himself off. “I’m thankful to have friends in such affluent stations…”

The knight grimaced. “I don’t like throwing my weight around, but in these situations I hardly have a choice.”

“What in the world was that?” Wurie asked, “They were like...common rabble! Like the thugs whose fights I had to break up back in the day!”

“That’s what happens with the army,” Alexander noted. He frowned as he looked over to the exit, hands on his hips.

“These aren’t elite soldiers of the king. These aren’t contractors or professionals. These are levies, militia and common folk. They don’t have the discipline a lifer has. Force them to stay on duty without an enemy to fight, and eventually they’ll starting picking their own fights.”

Wurie tilted his head. “Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before.”

“Comes with the territory. Command enough armies and you know the best and worst of it inside and out.”

“Still...unacceptable,” muttered Wurie. He looked deeply wounded by the proceedings.

“Captain? You okay?”

The wolfman shook his head. “It’s...nothing. Just remembering the exile.”

“Similar treatment?”

“Very.”

Alexander crossed his arms. “Things are going to change around here. I don’t know how, but they will.”

Wurie smiled despite himself. “I...appreciate the optimism. I would say I don’t believe it but...I already said that about you saving our people. I fear I’d be eating my words yet again if I said such a thing!”

The knight shrugged, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to see, huh? So how about…”

A shadow taking up the entire middle of the camp cause him to trail off. While the twilight wasn’t much, it was noticeable now that it was gone.

He barely had a moment to look up before a green dragon dropped down the hole and into the Citadel. Basilrin.

“They are here! The king’s men are here!”

There was a lengthy silence as the crowd looked at one another. A few citizens walked over at the dragon’s call, including the others that had been journeying together with Alexander all this time.

Looking back, the knight gave them a nod. At last, the end was here. Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’s time.”

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Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner,  @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @disheveledcorvid, @reya-writes, @bexminx

[ac-ars]

Oh my, my, my

it’s been 84 years, or even longer, my laptop kept being freezing bitch and didn’t want to work so i had to backup all shit, but it doesn’t matter, im close to failing physics, and idc as well, because this is finally done lol

thanks to people who were telling me i am not shit while writing this ily all

also!!!! pedro used here isn’t the pedro from rollerband please remember this

anyway have fun with physics teacher asshole Matteo here

Oh my, my, my

If you ask Luna Valente what she likes the most in the guy who is teaching her physics, she will not be able to answer. There is no full, logical answer for this question, because Luna simply can’t tell what about Matteo Balsano is the hottest, or more like, hotter than the rest.

She had thought that her college experience was going to be filled with parties her friends make her to go when she wants to stay home, hangovers and headaches, sleeping during boring, morning lectures and a fuck ton of studying. All those things above have been happening so far, ever since she stepped into the building of her faculty, but damn, it’s been three years and now he happened, changing whole studies imagine to the worst and the best thing Luna could have ever made up in her mind.

She has been dreading physics classes for quite long time; in highschool she wasn’t the best when it came to science, but here she is on engineering faculty and physics is kind of inevitable on engineering faculties, isn’t it? So she had to take it anyway.

It was expected that physics is going to kill her in every possible way: tire her, confuse and ruin her, turn her brain into the jelly, yet Luna would never think that the problem wouldn’t be in physics itself.

Currently she is having troubles in physics class because of her ta, who makes her the least and the most focused when he talks. And suddenly his class became Luna’s favorite class ever.

The thing is that he chose her. They have group president, yet he wanted someone who doesn’t talk much, still knows everyone and has no kind of responsibilities on their shoulders, and that’s how Luna turned into his private group post pigeon to share any stuff that needs to be shared.

She has his email in case he is stuck in morning traffic and can’t get to class on time. He uses it to give them notes after any topic and exercises to solve before the tests. It’s mostly because his lazy ass is too lazy to create mail group, but whatever. Why would Luna complain about any extra time or contact with him? She doesn’t have his phone number, and hopes he is never gonna give it to her; it wouldn’t be any good idea, because she would end up texting him something weird and lame like your shirt would look great on the floor in my bedroom after alcohol.

Still, she is doing better than all her friends who are crushing on him, trying to find some ways to seduce him or some shit, yet Luna is really above this all mentality, since she is very self conscious, enough to chill and stop believing in some crazy, hot fantasies, focusing more on what she can see instead. Not on what could someday happen, what she could do to him or with him. Her imagination is all she needs at this point. Besides, Matteo doesn’t seem to be the one to make any move towards any of the students anyway.

Hands. His hands are currently roaming her back with softness, yet quickly because he can’t get enough of her. His eyes are closed finally; he decided to learn her without any help of his sight, using other senses instead and looks like he is going to memorize all of her. His lips. His lips are moving on hers urgently, trying to get as much as possible from her, as if the whole universe is depending on this very kiss they share, but Luna doesn’t mind; she is willing to give him as much as possible.

He is pressing her to his desk with his hips, like he is scared that she is going to run away, but cursed the one who would ever say something like this, because Luna Valente isn’t the one to avoid any chance of getting at least a tiny bit of Matteo Balsano. She pulls away for a second to take single breath, since he doesn’t let her take another, needing more and more. His teeth close on her lower lip making her hiss softly, but he only smirks and moves away before letting her go. His eyes are dark, dark, black, even though she has always been sure of their sweet brown color, and are making her crazier than all of his touches.

Her fingers slide up his arms slowly, trying to feel the shape of his muscles moving when he tries to unclasp her bra from under her blouse. Shivers keep going down her spine since his hands are cold, almost sobering her, yet not quite and every of his movements makes her wake up from this crazy moment, but takes her back at the same time. She reaches his shoulders and his neck before tangling her fingers in his soft, soft hair which she has always wanted to touch, checking if it’s like she imagined all those times before.

He still demands more; his mouth gets hungrier and more careful so Luna just kinda slows down playing with buttons of his shirt. He smiles against her lips, letting her know how much he wants her to keep going and all she can do now is starting to undo the buttons slowly while his mouth ends up on her neck, kissing her skin as properly as he kissed her lips. Her heart is beating too hard for him not to feel it, but nobody here seems to care about it as long as the moment isn’t interrupted by anything. She is letting out small, soft sighs as his lips tickle her skin, his tongue is teasing from time to time and his fingers try to sneak their way under her skirt.

This is all she needs from the world, so, dear stars, if someone is going to ruin this-

“Jesus Christ, Luna, could you please stop eyefucking him finally?” She feels an elbow in her ribs, which makes her jump and very gracefully push her hardcover notebook off the desk to the floor. Obviously, it does make loud thump and now everyone is staring at her, while Pedro is giggling under his breath and she is so going to murder him one day. She just looks at the notebook, not sure what to do something; if do something at all, but of course he has to get into the whole moment.

“Luna, is everything okay?” Matteo asks with his soft, smooth voice that has her shivering in many fantasies and she already feels like melting into small paddle of blushing mess.

But she doesn’t. She gives him small nod, obviously, she has to keep it cool no matter what, despite the fact that she can’t move. Her brain isn’t really helping her in those moments; daydreaming is very, very bad, especially in class when he is real in front of her eyes and all she can do is try to keep her heart beating in any rhythm. He is looking at her with raised eyebrows, kind of amused eyes and small smile. When she doesn’t do any move, hearing Pedro’s snickers obviously, Matteo moves away from his desk and walks slowly towards her, frowning after few steps, and she just wants to disappear in the very moment he picks up her notebook and places it on her desk.

“Are you sure you are fine?” He asks once more and Luna’s head is blank. “Yes, I’m just-”

“She was studying whole night and she is super slow today, so don’t mind her.” Pedro jumps in, grinning completely casually and Matteo sighs. Luna keeps nodding continuously and notices how her friend kicks the chair of girl sitting in front of them and she jumps, exclaiming loudly. “Yes! We were studying together on skype, but I manage lack of sleep better.”

Honestly Luna is kinda thankful for this and she is definitely gonna buy them some alcohol they want, because she had no explanation on her tongue except ‘could you please just stop kissing me in my head?’ and this one doesn’t seem like good idea at all.

“Fine.” The Balsano shrugs. “Just make sure you have notes from today, and start studying earlier, right?”

He winks at her, she dies, Pedro laughs too much and the whatsapp conversation of entire group doesn’t get a break.

This day is basically a mess. Luna managed to oversleep and didn’t have time to brush her hair, so here she is trying to sip the shitty hot chocolate from coffee machine as her high ponytail is tickling her nape. Glasses on her nose are barely keeping in one place and as always she is fixing them with her finger and small growl.

It’s kinda cold today, the sweater is sliding off her shoulder all the time because of her hurrying and putting it too quickly, so it ended up too stretched, but who cares? Is it socially acceptable to not wear a bra? If it’s not that’s a boomer, but she was too much in hurry to care. The only good thing about this morning was the fact that her phone was fully charged and it’s not dying like she is.

They all are waiting in front of chem class, which is gonna start in like 20 minutes, so her friends are talking mostly about random stuff, while Luna only tries to minimize the amount of yawns for an hour to thirty-two. She is scrolling through insta feed, but there is nothing there except kittens and food videos, but this is all she needs at this very moment.

Her ears catch the name Matteo in between the songs and she just looks up at the girls with a smile, reaching for one earphone and taking it away, to listen what they are saying. At first it’s just safe topic, talking about upcoming physics test and Luna is very fine, very comfy with this, so she half gets into the conversation, half focuses on the song played in her other earphone.

Pedro texts her something, asking if she is gonna move her ass to uni and she just snorts texting him to turn around, because he is dumb and blind. Few seconds later she can hear his lame laugh and feel his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“You are very funny today, tiny you. Tell me, what got you so happy? We aren’t having physics today after all.” He grins and Luna lowkey feels like punching him. Giggles of the girls tell her that they heard that, which means no chill for the Valente today.

Whatever.

“I am not in funny mood. You are the funny one here, Pierre.”

Pedro laughs probably too loud at this version of his name, but no one seems to care. “Are you gonna speak the language of love to me now? Will you finally accept to go out with me, Luna Valente?” He says dramatically, pressing his hands to his chest, over the heart.

Luna opens her mouth to reply, but one of the girls just laughs and shakes her head. “You aren’t half as hot as Matteo, so stop your high hopes here.”

Everyone bursts into laugh, even Luna when Pedro just rests back of his hand on his forehead with dramatic, dramatic sigh. She would focus on the second more, but her phone vibrates with text message. Her brain can manage to handle only one thing at once, so all people are turned off when she answers Simón’s message.

“…Luna, what do you think?” Someone asks and she wakes up, nudged by Pedro once again. “He is hot as hell, right?”

“Who?” She raises her eyebrows, not sure which guy is judged here.

Jazmín rolls her eyes, probably completely done. “Matteo, you silly.”

Luna shakes her head, taking deep breath and ignoring Pedro’s tapping on her shoulder quickly. Despite that she shrugs. “Obviously, people like Matteo, who are so attractive should be kept away from teaching others, because it’s very not helping.” She answers, turning her attention back to her phone and feels how everyone is staring at her weirdly. Their eyes are pointed at behind Luna and her blood suddenly freezes.

“Please don’t tell me he heard that. In any possible way.” She mumbles to herself and turns around, feeling like she got into hell.

Matteo himself looks very amused, and very, very smug. He gives her a small stare before turning to Pedro and giving him a nod. “Good job, buddy. You tried to stop her at least. You are the true friend here.”

Her knees get weak and she feels like falling down, but at the same time she can’t make any of her muscles move and this is the shittiest moment ever, ever.

Matteo crosses his arms, his eyes back to Luna as he sighs. “Looking at your grades I don’t think you should complain that much. Unless, of course, you have someone else to explain what I can’t.” He smiles raising his hands up, as if he is giving up.

“If anyone else has any advice here, just send me an email, I’m always open for new suggestions.” Someone snorts and Matteo laughs fixing his tie. “Anyway-“ he looks at Luna again. “I hope you all have a nice day.” After that he winks at her and leaves, walking through the hallway casually and not looking back.

They look back at her and Luna can’t tell who, but someone pulls her to the chair and gives her water.

Few seconds pass until she manages to speak. “Jesus, fuck, I’m fucked.” Her heart keeps beating too fast as Pedro laughs. “You wish you were, tiny, you wish.”

It’s Friday night and Luna is definitely good at making people think she is drinking as much alcohol as they are. Or maybe they are already drunk. She needs to be drunk. Pedro made her wear pretty dress and go out with them to this one club to chill, forget about the science for once and get some proper hook up, because she has been ridiculous recently. Especially after how she exclaimed loudly that Matteo is probably too hot for her liking. At least her group decided to let her have few days chill and didn’t mention this situation while she was around.

Now she is only sipping slowly her mojito through two straws, playing with the ice in her glass and nodding softly, since her hairstyle is a mess and she’s not the one to fix it right now.

Her lipstick is leaving stains at the straws and Luna sighs deeply, fuck you Kylie Jenner for all your lies. It’s not like she cares about that, but lie is a lie, and it did cost money, so Luna is going to very complain about this, even more after alcohol, so here we are.

Someone tells a joke and everyone laughs, Luna does too, not even knowing what it’s about, though it would be weird if she just stared at them with confused eyes, because she was more concentrated on asking herself what is wrong with her. She should definitely focus on getting drunk with her friends and maybe hit on some hot guy, yet the point is that Luna doesn’t want that. Or more like she does, very much, but not at all at the same time and she is a big mess here, trying to figure what the fuck she should do and how many mojitos to drink. As many as possible; students get discount today.

Pedro rests his elbow on her knee as they all lean towards Jazmín, who seems to be jumping excitedly about something.

“Hey, tiny you, look what she has for you.” Pedro says, poking her and Luna wakes up from all of her thoughts, pressing her lips together to make sure her lipstick isn’t looking like she just made out with a frog.

“What do you want, Peter Pan?” She asks with a sigh, leaning more against him. He only grins. “Our fabulous queen of stalking has news for you.” Luna rolls her eyes and turns to Jazmín who is drinking her margarita with big smile, and all the brunette can notice is the fact that there’s no lipstick stain on her glass and, dear stars, Luna needs it.

“Lu-na, listen, but carefully, okay? Carefully.” No one is sure if that’s the right way to say it, but no one says anything either, so Jazmín jumps on her seat, fixing herself and her eyes are shining showing how tipsy she already is. “I have a friend, she told me that she knows the guy, who knows the guy, who is kinda dating a friend of Matteo and this source told me they like to come here to hang out, so who knows, maybe you will get lucky tonight!”

Everyone laughs and Luna only growls trying to not cover her face with hands, because God protect her from smudged makeup and looking like a very rich badger. She sighs dramatically, and ignoring the straws, empties her glass in completely not ladylike way, because their physics ta is the last thing she needs here.

Pedro laughs at her but gets up pulling her with him and leads towards the bar with intention of getting her another drink. “You know, for a person who fucked him in every possible way in your head, you are pretty embarrassed when someone mentions him.” He snorts softly and Luna sighs dramatically. “It’s because this is, despite everything, very ridiculous idea and you all should stop.”

“But you are so into him!” He exclaims loudly, changing his voice in the half and making Luna laugh. “And he is into you, I’m super sure of this.”

“I don’t care!” She loud-whispers to him. “Just shut up and buy me a drink, please.”

Pedro shakes his head with disapproval. “This mojito is like cheating on normal people who drink normal alcohol, not some fancy wannabe glasses filled with grass and ice. But I guess I won’t win here.”

Luna grins, flicking his nose. “Someone has to know what is happening when you don’t anymore.”

“I hate you.”

She sends him a wink. “That you do.”

He is about to say something, but they both hear someone calling Luna’s name in this very specific way, that just spills who wants her attention.

“Lunita! I see you! Turn around and stop pretending you don’t know who I am.” With every word the voice gets louder and her cousin is either very drunk, or is approaching her and Luna can be never sure which of above is worse.

She decides to turn away from Pedro and not roll her eyes at Ámbar walking towards her on those extra high heels the brunette almost killed herself because of the other day. “Ámbar, it’s such a nice surprise to see you.” She mumbles, kinda lying, kinda not.

It’s actually soothing that someone here is able to kill a person with the spiky heel of a shoe without a blink, no matter of amount of alcohol they drank before. And they are nice to each other since Luna went to college and they can hang out or some shit, even if she is sure her cousin gave her this shitty Kylie lipstick mostly because it sucks.

“Any chance of seeing me is great, obviously.”  The blonde flips her hair, spreading around soft scent of her expensive perfume. “You look pretty, tonight, I would be surprised if not the fact I made you buy this dress.” Ámbar smiles a little proudly and wraps her arm around Luna’s waist.

“Take your drink and come with me to the table over there. I wanted to text you tomorrow anyway. Do you want to meet my friends? They are assholes, but I guess they will be nice when they see you in this dress. And I will promise them death if they are mean.” Luna frowns, not sure  what to say, but Pedro pushes the glass in her hand and winks at her. “Maybe you will catch some hot one there, just be nice, tiny you.”

Ámbar snorts. “Obviously they are hot. I am not friends with ugly people.” Saying that with huge disgust, she pulls lost Luna away from there, talking something about doing well by drinking classy things in the club and that she should start doing this herself, but vodka is stronger than any of her safety reflexes.

Luna just keeps nodding at her, sipping her drink, since the temperature keeps being high as hell, until they get to the blonde’s table. She looks around forcing her brain to memorize faces until she stops on one and chokes.

What the actual fuck is he doing here out of all people in Buenos Aires and how the hell is he friends with Ámbar?

Luna has bo idea so she just stares at him as he is talking to other guy with curly hair and she has no idea what to do now, because if she thought he was hot in class, now this is breaking all his records at once in this black shirt with few first buttons undone, what obviously sticks her eyes to his skin. She is such a mess because of some guy, and she would feel ridiculous if not the fact her brain is fried.

“Hey, idiots, you wanted to meet Luna and now you act like the least classy guys in the city.” Ámbar growls, resting her hands on her hips and suddenly all stares are on Luna. Matteo’s look catches her eyes.

She drops the glass.

The other guy chuckles getting up immediately while Matteo seems to be as lost as Luna herself, but only for few seconds.

The blonde girl shakes her head dramatically. “Since neither of you all is able to think at this very moment, you-” she points at guy with curly hair, “-will get Luna new drink while we all just sit down and try to make you all speak, because r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s.”

The guy smirks widely at Matteo. “No, no blondie, he will go, he was supposed to get new vodka after all so it won’t make a difference.”

Luna is just trying to not faint, because here she is in short dress, wearing high heels, very tipsy and apparently the one and only Matteo Balsano is gonna get her something to drink.

He acts completely casually as Ámbar sits down saying whatever, and approaches her as if he has never seen her again - despite the smirk of the other guy, who probably knows, but Ámbar doesn’t.

“What was in the glass you dropped?” He smirks and she pouts, before opening her mouth to answer, but he interrupts leaning closer. “It’s too loud here, just come with me for it to the bar, is it okay?”

Luna can only nod, wondering if she shouldn’t go for clear vodka today, because any sober, any tipsy, any anything will not help her survive this. She is sure of it when he smiles at her and rests his hand on her lower back in order to lead her out of people dancing around. Someone bumps into her and she almost trips over her own leg which goes unfortunately behind the other, yet Matteo manages to catch her with another hand on her waist. He chuckles softly, but says nothing, pulling her behind a little faster and all Luna can do is follow him as if he is her own icebreaker.

She is praying for neither of her friends to see them; she would end up photographed from every angle and definitely interviewed later, hit by questions like did you finally get laid and are ready to move on with your life? Yeah, not gonna happen. Hopefully. For now Matteo is talking to the bartender casually, leaning his elbows on the counter and smiling widely, since the girl is making his drink with dreamy eyes and Luna feels like dropping another mojito.

That’s totally her luck, though it’s not like she had any expectations; the hottest ones are usually assholes and apparently this one ain’t no exception.

She is ready to leave when he pays, but after he does he just turns to her, completely ignoring the bartender. Luna frowns, yet takes the arm he offers her, they walk away and he leans closer to her. “You don’t seem to be glad that I flirted us half price discount.”

She blinks surprised, not sure if to curse at him again in her head, or just ask what, so she nods softly, making him laugh.

“Looks like that’s a thing you should teach me as well.” She mumbles not really stopping herself from throwing this and Matteo laughs. “Am I not too hot for teaching people anything?”

Luna almost chokes, but keeps herself cool to not spill the drink probably either on her dress or on his shirt.

“Okay, okay, it was just a joke,” he says but it doesn’t feel like a joke at all. His hand is suddenly in front of her and she gives him surprised look. “Are we going to the table?” He asks, offering her his hand.

Luna sighs and looks around. If no one comes from the future to stop her from doing it, then how bad this decision can be? She just smiles and laces their fingers surely, seeing him smile.

“I need help.” Luna says, throwing papers on Matteo’s desk. He looks up at her from above his laptop, his glasses sliding softly off the bridge of his nose. She sighs dramatically, trying to focus, because she drank vodka with this guy few days ago, so no big deal. Not at all.

“Help with what?” He asks raising his eyebrows and lacing his fingers on the desk.

Luna pouts and pushes this little annoying strand of her hair behind her ear. “With physics, obviously. I don’t get a shit here, and I want you to explain it to me.” She says super quickly and guesses she should be nice, so she adds soft: “Please, Matteo.”

He takes deep breath, looking around before he reaches for her papers. The brunette keeps her breathing still for a moment, hoping that he is gonna chill his ass and help her or at least tell her where to start.

“Let me think about this.” He hums softly, looking around as if he is deep in thoughts. “When?” The question falls between them and Luna bites on her lower lip.

“I don’t know, but somewhere before Thursday I guess.”

“I have extra time on Fridays as always, can’t you come to me then?”

Luna crosses her arms with dramatic sigh, not sure how to get out of this. “I can’t on Friday. If I could I wouldn’t bother you the here and now.”

He stands up, brushing the chair against the floor loudly and she scrunches her nose as he gets closer to her and leans back against the desk. “Well then why didn’t you come to me last Friday?” He takes the pencil from his desk and starts playing with it. The tone of his voice breaks a little and shows hints of teasing, but Luna is hopeless here; no one really from her friends gets this shit so Matteo was it, yet he seems to make fun of her.

“Because I was busy, listen, I need this and I need you here.”

“Oh so now you need me? We reached this stage faster than I thought we would.” Luna chokes seeing his smirk when he rolls his sleeves up. “I guess I can give you some hints here and explain this or that, but under one condition here.”

Her shoulders fall with relief, because she knows he wouldn’t pull any weird shit here. “Okay, what is it. Tell me.”

Matteo crosses his arms, as always when he feels that he has the advantage. “You will go out with me, okay?”

[allmyloveavery]

Realization ~ J.M.

a/n: I love doing things I suck at :’) anyway enjoy the first imagine I’ve ever written hopefully it doesn’t suck too much since I wrote this at like 1:30 am lmao also shoutout to viki (@nightsspentthinking) for proofreading ily 

requested?  nope I just wrote it because yolo i don’t actually use yolo don’t come at me pls im being ironic 

summary: remember how 2016 was the year of realizing things according to Kylie Jenner? Well that’s exactly what we’re gonna be doing today. So buckle up lmao. Wow great description 10/10 anyway you’re best friends with Jonah and after a rough night you come to a realization.

You make your way back to your block after a long night of staying out. You’d had a huge fight with your parents over something you don’t even remember anymore but it had all been building up for a while now and you couldn’t take it anymore. All you remember is wanting to escape all the drama and sneaking out to go hang out with your friends. You grab your phone and find a bunch of notifications with missed calls from your parents. “I’m so screwed” you mutter under your breath. You look at the time,  ‘5:30 AM’ it reads. You sigh walking into your street, sneaking out was all fun and games unless of course you get caught.

You decided against going inside and getting lectured by your parents and instead called your best friend, Jonah. “Y/N?“ You hear a yawn and some stumbling around "What’s up is something wrong?” “I need a place to stay, can you come pick me up?” You waited for him to respond but it stayed silent for a while until he finally broke the silence telling you he’d be there in five before whispering  “are you okay?  You’re scaring me” “I just need my best friend right now” you simply stated and with that you hung up and turned off your phone.

Jonah picked you up shortly after and drove back to his place, both of you stayed silent during the ride. You got out of the car and whispered a thank you before walking up to his front porch and sitting down. You suddenly feel him grab your shoulder and pulling you into a hug, you bury your face in his chest and whisper “please don’t let go” he just nodded and hugged you tighter.  After what felt like forever you finally let go “do you want to talk about it?” he asked.You sighed thinking about it for a while before you responded: "I’d rather not”. 

After sitting in front of his house for the longest time just talking and joking around, you both went inside. “I’m tired” you said “yeah well it’s 8:30 in the morning Y/N it’s not rocket science that your body is tired after such a long night” he jokingly said to you before bursting out in laughter. You pretended to be offended but gave in and told him that he was right. He took your hand and told you to follow him upstairs so you could get into bed. You spaced out and stared at Jonah for a while, just looking at his face while he made another joke that you didn’t quite hear. You got a weird feeling in your stomach but you just shook it off and told yourself it was because you’d been up too long.

 When you get up to his room you look at the bed, you never noticed this before but for a tall guy like Jonah he had a pretty small bed. You dropped your purse on the ground next to the couch and just laid down closing your eyes. You open your eyes again when you hear someone walk around the hall, Jonah walks back into the room with a toothbrush and a hoodie in his hands. “What are you doing on the couch?” he asks looking at you with a confused look. “Well I don’t know about you but I’m trying to get some sleep”. “I can see that but what I actually meant was why are you on the couch and not the bed?”. You looked at the bed and back at Jonah and just shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I thought you were sleeping there”. You sat up on the couch and looked at him waiting for a response. “So you thought I was gonna make you sleep on the couch?”. “As a matter of fact, I did.” He didn’t answer immediately and just chuckled “no one’s sleeping on that couch it’s not comfortable enough to sleep on.” You look at him with a puzzled look on your face. “What are you saying, Marais?” “I’m saying that we can sleep in the bed unless you don’t want to share the bed of course then I can sleep on the couch." 

You’d spend the night at Jonah’s tons of times but you’d always fallen asleep on the couch together or on a big mattress, never in his bed. He waved his hand in front of your face "Hello earth to Y/N? Anyone there?” You looked up and quickly answered, “yeah, we can share I wouldn’t let you sleep on an uncomfortable couch after all”. He finally handed you the hoodie and the toothbrush he had been holding this whole time and you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth and put on the hoodie. You looked in the mirror after putting on the hoodie, it was really big and almost fit like a dress for you but it was perfect to sleep in since it was also very soft and smelled like Jonah, you felt that weird feeling in your stomach creep up again. You pretended it wasn’t there and went back into his room. “See it fits perfectly” he joked. “Ha ha very funny Jonah, I can’t help that you’re a giant”. He was already in bed and you crawled in bed next to him. You were facing Jonah as you both laid in bed just looking at each other in silence. You found yourself staring at his face again, his beautiful, perfect face you thought to yourself. You stopped, this was Jonah, your best friend, you can’t think that. You do not like Jonah, you can’t like him, you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra. You snapped out of it when you heard your name and looked up at the boy. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem kind of out of it”. Thanks to him you had completely forgotten about all of the shit you had to deal with throughout the past week. He always made you feel safe and knew how to cheer you up. “I actually feel a lot better now, thanks for always being there for me without hesitation. Even at 5:30 in the morning when I need a place to stay”. 

He smiled “I’ve always got your back you know that Y/N”. You smiled back at him “and I’ve always got yours”. He pulled you into a hug and you guys stayed like that. After a while, it seemed like Jonah had fallen asleep and you found yourself admiring his complexion once again. You tried really hard to think about something else but it just wouldn’t work. You sighed and decided to stop fighting it since it wasn’t gonna work. You laid there admiring his face for just a little bit longer. Maybe you did like Jonah a little, but only like a tiny bit, you lied to yourself. “How can you possibly be this cute while sleeping?” you mutter. His eyes suddenly open and he just smirks at you. “Are you flirting with me Y/N?”

[thescarhead]

Chapter 3: Grammar and Power

"Hagrid, I'm wondering, can you tell me more about the Professors?" Harry said after getting himself comfortable around Hagrid, although he didn't have the ability to eat Hagrid's cooking, while Ron enjoyed himself with pampering 'Fang,' Hagrid's hound dog.

"Well ain' 'hat a good question. Known mos' of 'hem back when I was in school. Of course, 'he Dark Arts 'eacher keeps changin' for a while now and 'he potion masters are fairly new, been aroun' for ten years give or 'ake," Hagrid said pouring more tea.

"But isn't that strange?," Ron said with mild skepticism, "why have two potion masters? Why not one?"

"Well ain' 'hat a funny story. When Professor Snape became 'he potions master, people were worried if he could handle it; given his past an' all, but 'hen Dumbledore wen' off to France one day an' came back with Professor Black, draggin' him by 'he collar; it was quiet 'he show," Hagrid said laughing at the memory.

"Of course, 'he other professors seemed even more cautious to him 'eaching, given his family matters, Black himself 'ried runnin' away whenever he got the chance, yet Dumbledore always dragged him back in 'ime for dinner. I'm not sure wha' convinced Black to stay 'hough, you'll have to ask him or Dumbledore, maybe even Snape if your lucky. 'hen pretty soon things jus' started to work out well and it's been like 'hat ever since." Hagrid said and looked at the clock.

"Blimey, it's getting late, I wouldn't wan' you two gettin' into 'rouble on your second day, now off with you, careful not to get Flinch to fin' you." Hagrid said as he ushered them out.

As much as Hagrid explained, it still left Harry in questions.

What was Professor Snape's past? Why was Dumbledore at France? Why was Professor Black so reluctant in teaching? How did Dumbledore convince Professor Black to stay?

But Harry supposed that could be a answered for another time.

———

Classes went by for the next two weeks as perfect as Harry could imagine.

Well; they went just about exactly as how Harry have imagined it.

In Transfigurations, they wrote down difficult anagrams and translations to which made knickknacks change into other knickknacks.

In Charms, they learned to use basic charms as well as learn when they were invented and why.

In History of Magic, they slept through an explanation of Greek and Roman wizards which brought muggles to reason that there were gods.

In Herbology, they learned about soil properties and there reaction to certain plants.

In Flying Class, they learned what makes a broom fly and the parts of a broom as well.

In Astronomy, they learn how to track star movements and tracing the lunar cycle.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they learned that Professor Quirrell was scared of just about everything.

And then there was Potions...

Don't get Harry wrong, it wasn't a strange class compared to his other courses, but it was strange in its teaching style.

The first thing he does in class is place a potion in front and have the students write down what potion it is using only three clues hidden around the room.

As far as Harry was concern, only Hermione seem to like it. Then Professor Black would go off in demonstrating making a potion while the class followed along which was the normal part of class; then does something completely unexpected.

It could be anything.

One time the professor just decided that, to check if are potions worked properly, dropped eggs into the steaming cauldron which out popped a fully grown chicken, or geese and turkey if you messed up which was found out by Neville, that only lead to the school being overrun with foul of all kind. This lead to Professor McGonagall having plenty of practice trials for her class in making chickens to pillows and Professor Sprout feeding her carnivorous plants fresh meat. Not to mention, to no ones surprise, there were a lot of chicken based meals serve the next day.

Another time the Professor handle the students clay dolls to use as containers for the potion which only proceeded to make it come to life and keep trying to untie shoelaces. On course, Professor Flitwick took most dolls and used them to teach the fourth year how to use the cutting charm on moving objects while Professor Kettleburn who teaches Care of Magical Creatures took just enough to keep the bowtruckles at bay from attacking students.

It turned out that whatever potion was made was then explained after the potion was created to make sure everyone was fair game in brewing so not one knew what to expect as the final result. Then the school takes use of it and make it a never ending cycle of 'learning productivity.' At least that's what the other teachers call it.

The good that Professor Blacks tactics brought was an easing environment for the students to learn, so not anything any student, especially the Slytherin, could hate about. It came to the point that no one could ever truly hate his classes.

Of course, that is if Harry could manage to get his potions right the first time around.

"Not bad, not bad, but you can do better, I'll make a potioneer out of you yet; Miss Ganger if you could do so the pleasure in helping Mister Potter with his potion I would be oh so great full," Professor Black said as he hurried over to Seamus's cauldron which seem to be bubbling uncontrollably and quite ready to explode.

But this left Harry vulnerable.

Just as class was about to end, Draco smirked and wrote on a piece of parchment to which he soon crumbled up and threw it at Harry.

But before any piece of crumped up parchment could when get anywhere near Harry, Professor Black appeared, or in this case apparated right on time to catch it.

"Mister Malfoy, bulling will not be permitted in any house and even more so in class," Professor Black said in a calming elegant tone as he opened the crumped paper, walking to an empty chalkboard. "As wizards and witches, by stooping to such means we become nothing more then primitive creatures. If one decide to prove themselves as superior; we show this though are abilities and are skills."

Harry saw Draco's face redden with embarrassment and anger. "This does bring into account that grammar is important when writing a message, there are proper words per proper means. For example Y-O-U-R is used when describing something that belongs to you while Y-O-U-'-R-E is used is phrasing "you are." Professor Black explained as he wrote it down on the board.

"With this being said I will expect an essay 10 inches long on the potion that cures boils which can be found in your books on page 43," Professor Black said as the student started to put their items away to go to their next class.

"AND MISTER MALFOY," Professor Black said louder then needed, "If I catch you bulling or using improper grammar, after school classes will be put into order which I'll make sure, your father will find out about. Class dismiss."

——-

By the time school ended, the Gryffindors in the common room were spreading their daily gossip on the Notorious Professor Black.

"Is apparation truly that difficult?" Harry said, not really sure why everyone was making a fuss about apparation.

"It is, witches and wizards that fail in it can end up appearing to one place missing a leg or hand. Not to mention that you need a license to by allowed to use apparation," Ron explained, "But to think, he would apparate just for show?"

"He didn't just do it for show, didn't you hear any word of his lecture? He was making a statement against bulling and the truth behind power. Yet I will admit, he was able to do advanced magic without a wand and quite effortlessly if I might add, being the fact the if you read Hogwarts: A History, the schools barriers make it difficult to preform such magic, and near impossible to apparate outside or inside Hogwarts. He must be extremely powerful to be able to apparate on school grounds so freely," Hermione inputted from her little corner of books as the other first years sat in the common room next to the fireplace as they continued on in discussion.

But of course, the Weasley twins took it upon themselves to bring trouble to the conversation.

"Don't be to surprised."

"Apparatation isn't the only thing his good at."

"Every year during winter break"

"Dumbledore and Black have a duel just outside of Hogwarts grounds."

"You can see it from the great hall if you like."

"Last year, they got a little overboard and knocked down the astronomy tower!"

"No one got hurt though."

"Then they went off for ice cream."

"After an hour, they came back."

"McGonagall, sent them to the corner and made them clean up their mess."

Fred and George started laughing just thinking of what would happen this year but this did not help the first years imagination and worry of their teacher accidentally crushing them with a tower.

Percy took a moment to think of what to say to calm the situation down and took in a breath, "All the Professors at Hogwarts exceeds in their teaching fields but then we have Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Black who've excelled in multiple fields. But unlike Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Black does everything in his power to excel all forms of magical knowledge which is why his called in to teach a class when a professor is not able to make it."

"So his a bloody genius," Ron said as he slinked down into his chair.

"No Ron, his studious which is something you should be doing as well, if you end up failing a single class, mother might just turn you into a cow," Percy warned.

"Then we can name you Ro-Moo," the twins said simultaneously which got Percy to chase them around which only proceeded to give the twins a good laugh.

Extra

•Regulus is a grammer god and no one can prove me wrong.

•Bold of you to assume that Regulus wouldn't train hard in magic knowing Voldemort is still alive.

•Every winter break, Regulus duels Dumbledore to see if he could hold his ground against him.

•The last duel held for 40 minutes, with Dumbledore toying with Regulus for the last 20 minutes to see how long the boy would last.

•They destroyed the astronomy tower and then went out for ice cream and McGonagall grounded both of them.

[pldubrahs]

anyway, this has been a While coming and now im back in new orleans so LOTS OF GUSHING ABOUT THE LIGHTNING THIEF MUSICAL, UNDER THE CUT

the ambiance of the theater, dim and filled with soft storm sounds

this show does really beautiful things with overlapping singing and w harmonys and its So low budget but still so good and the cast is small but amazing and literally everyone but chris is cast into several roles and its just amazing

if u dont wanna read this whole thing, just scroll down to the end for a Special Surprise

ACT 1

the Bitter, Angry, Sad music, ltm is truly the Emo Rock Musical we deserve

i seriously almost fell out of my chair when chris mccarrell came out. he honest to god was SUCH a good percy, so fidgety and all his expressions were ON POINT

“CHROOONOOOOOOOS”

ms dodds in General she was hilarious for the literal 3 minutes she was onstage

the pen to sword transformation is literally just: chris hides the pen and grabs the sword from somewhere else onstage. during my show, in the ms dodds fight scene, the sword was on the back of chirons wheelchair and it got stuck so he had to trip after the chair as chiron wheeled off and TUG it off to fight

DID I MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVED CHRIS MCCARRELL AND HOW AMAZING HIS VOICE WAS? BECAUSE I DO AND IT W A S

sally is a BLACK WOMAN 

just in general, this show was Amazing at raceblind casting

sally sprayed febreeze after smelly gabe, like he leaned to look in the fridge and she stood behind him spraying febreeze directly at him for like 30 seconds

“he was handsome and strong and before too long- you came!” percy was roasting marshmallows and looking out towards the audience and sally was rubbing up and down the sides of her body during this before “you came!” and it was v funny

Strong in general was Great bc WOW IM LOVE THE “NORMALCY IS A SOCIALLY CONSTRUCTED MYTH” MESSAGE

grover and percy meeting outside camp

“oh look a goat” “percy!”

“he met a furie” “youre all furry! what happened to your legs”

the v cute friendship bickering, overlapping voices thing that percy and grover v often did. this was the grover and percy friendship that we always needed

during the weird dream when he sees annabeth and hes like “gee whiz shes the most beautiful girl ive ever seen”

and then when he officially meets her after hes not out of it, he says “youre my dream girl!” and then backpedals and its great

ANOTHER TERRIBLE DAY. DEFFS ONE OF THE TOP FIVE SONGS. MR D IN GENERAL WAS JUST AMAZING, GEORGE SALAZAR ROCKED IT

he kicked the chair over so much and then there was a part after his camp halfblood intern thing left so his chair didnt get reset behind him and so he kicked into the air, got frustrated, and put the chair up himself

“of course, who am i to give relationship advice, im literally the god of alcohol”

“you can hate it here, but i HATED IT FIRST”

so so so many Soft sex jokes and bc im a Child i loved them 

chiron is just a guy galloping with a horse tail its the cutest thing and everyone laughed bc like imagine a kid galloping w their legs high and w/e, but on an adult and slow motion

“you’ll get used to mr d. he can be a bit... well, he hates children”

luke was Very attractive and ALSO he had a lot of chemistry w percy and w annabeth and i, who remembered shipping percy and luke back in my Youth, was Living

annabeth deffs had a crush on luke dont @ me

also luke was Softly bitter. like he sounded like a modern kid, bitter and upset but saying it in a joking way; totally makes sense that no one suspects that he’d do anything w chronos bc all the kids are upset and he doesnt get dark until the very end of the show

“are you ever going to wear pants again?” “Nope!”

luke: “havent you ever played capture the flag?” percy, excitedly: “not with swords!” *makes swooshy lightsaber noises* annabeth, suffering, full of regret: “It’s not a lightsaber.”

“sexist much?” “no, i love girls” [muffled luke and grover cackling in the background]

CLARISSE, LOVE OF MY LIFE! her song was so so good

im sure everyone has mentioned this but the LEAF BLOWERS BLOWING TOILET PAPER TO REPRESENT WATER LITERALLY CHANGED MY LIFE

the campfire song

percys Soft concern for annabeths story about running away “wait is that true”

grover starting to cry during his part

“my father is chronos.... remember my lecture, he ate his children””....... chiron wins”

APHRODITE'S DAUGHTER’S STORY “godess of love, my moms aphrodite... i bring home a boy and shes there in her nightie! oh nooooo” “she steals my mascara and all of my dates!” wonderful

percy sings nicely about his mother and everyones like “hes doing it wrong”

“we dont care where our parents may be, as long as you are here with me!” FRIENDSHIP MAKES ME EMO

“havent you noticed that there arent any other little sea godlings running around? any sons of hades or daughters of zeus? the big three gods arent supposed to have kids!” i loved this tiny easter egg i love my big three kids

“look at the boy, hes clearly not a thief!” “oh, yeah no yeah yeah yeah no no yeah yeah no yeah no, youre right! you cant fake being that stupid unless youre a brilliant actor, but im also the god of drama, so i can tell you HES NOT”

“his lightning?” “yeah, we're not talking some crummy tin foil zig zag from some off broadway play!”

GOOD KID IS EVEN BETTER LIVE THAN IT WAS ON THE RECORDING IT RUINED MY LIFE

Killer Quest! is an amazing end of act song and v upbeat and cute

“so where is the underworld actually” “look for doa records” “its a record company? actually, im not surprised”

ACT 2

WE’RE LOST IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE IN NEW JERSEY AND WE’RE NEVER GONNA MAKE IT TO LA

“half bloods to monsters smell like mickey ds, like tacos or take out vietnamese”

“dude are you talking to the squirrel?” “satyr powers, be nice. this squirrel knows every corner of the woods, maybe he can help us” “really? because i think that seems kind of nuts” [silence] “you hurt his feelings. tell the squirrel youre sorry.”

medusa in general, what a Good scene

ensemble members shaking maracas to make snake noises for her

medusa cant say “nemesis”

“ive done everything to prove to the gods that im the best and you- i mean, you dont even know how to hold a sword” “yes i do!, yes... i do...” “no, hands here *adjusts percys grip*” “i didnt ask for any of this: gods, monsters, quests- oh, wow, that is a lot easier”

my grand plan is the most annabeth chase song ever and i love it its such a good look into her character and i love her so much

“when boys mess up they always get another chance”

“cause most girl never win if theyre polite”

THE COMMENTARY ON HOW WOMEN HAVE TO BE IN TODAYS SOCIETY IN ORDER TO BE TAKE SERIOUSLY HELL YEAH

“the gods will think we’re impertinent” “we are impertinent”

the squirrel gave them three amtrak tickets

DRIVE IS A COUNTRY SONG AND I FUCKING LOVE IT IM HONESTLY SHOOK

i hate country except for this One Song

ITS ONE FOOT FORWARD AT A TIME; DUST OFF ALL THAT GRIT AND GRIME; WE STILL GOT A LOT LEFT TO DOOOO, CAUSE PEOPLE ARE COUNTIN ON US AND IM COUNTIN ON YOU! DRIIIIIIIIVE JUST DRIIIIiiiiiiiiIIIIIIVE STAY AHEAD STAY AHEAD STAY ALIIIIIIIVE

“is that chihuahua?” “its a chimera!”

“maybe if you hadnt brought all those dam snacks” “uh it was the hoover dam and i was hungry!”

ares drives them to las vegas and when they get there he says “this is where i... get off” and its HILARIOUS i love lowkey sex jokes

gentle easter egg to bianca and nico re: may 1st 1939

“the oracle can can it ill save my mom and savE THE PLANET!” im love percy so much

tREE ON THE HILL IS ABOUT THALIA AND IT MADE ME CRY GOD WHAT A GOOD SONG and grover feels like a failure and annabeth is like “no u saved my life ur a good friend and a good guardian <3 friendship”

THE FERRYMAN TO THE UNDERWORLD FLIRTS WITH GROVER

“you wanna hear my demo?” “uh-” [loud music plays] “im sorry i couldnt hear you over this SWEET ASS RIFF”

YOURE IN THE D.O.A. AND YOURE HERE TO STAY YEAH YOURE STUCK FOREVER NEVER GET AWAY NO HOPE FOR SURVIVAL YOURE DEAD ON ARRIVAL

“oh! do you have any josh groban?” “we will.” I CACKLED

DJ CEBERUS W A COOL 3-HEADED DEADMAU5 ESQUE MASK

the ferryman also attacks them all like “youre not gonna save the planet, you wont protect your friends, you wont be remembered”

everyone says this but “i think this pit is tartarus” “LIKE THE FISH SAUCE?”

“why would chronus want my shoes?” “they were really cool shoes”

bitter, sad hades who just wants people to stop thinking that hes the bad guy and for his brothers to come visit him

“one does not simply walk out of the underworld”

W H A T  B E L O N G S  T O  T H E  S E A  C A N  A L W A Y S  R E T U R N

small reprise of good kid as he considers hades offer and then the melody cHANGES and percy realizes that the seashell, a gift from a god, can SAVE THEM and its beautiful because SON OF POSEIDON IS A GOOD SONG

“maybe my dad was a screwup too, his best laid plans always falling through... maybe he never knew how to care but hey, thats life, and life aint fair... but i think my dad mayve thrown me a line, and better late than never, ill finally get a sign!”

its a good song kids

the kids get to the oceans and they FIGHT ARES and ares and percy are both singing, percy singing The Son Of Poseidon chorus and ares singing Put You In Your Place and its b e a u t i f u l

THE TOILET PAPER THROW- basically they bring in like 6 leafblowers w toilet paper rolls attached and the first five rows get covered in toilet paper. as someone who was in the fifth row, it was amazing

poseidon comes in, they have a Heart To Heart, he brings sally back to life, he flirts with sally, its hilarious and awkward

“the gods are unfair but we’re not total dicks”

percys like “you dont have to stay w gabe anymore” and sallys like “smh boy u cant solve all my problems. you saved my life, now i have to figure out how to live it”

he gives her medusas head

“what is this” “its a... do it yourself scupture kit” “oh! *begins to open it*” “no no no its, um, medusas head”

“well, as my official protector, you can officially escort us back to camp” “and youre conscience this time!”

chiron is also cast as poseidon so like he runs into the camp scene after a quick change and says “i hoofed it here as quick as i could!” 

last day of summer happens and w/e its cute but whAT REALLY MATTERS IS LUKES BETRAYAL: okay so the music slows and goes into the minor key and percys like “we still dont know whos working w chronos :/” lukes like “yeah it sucks” and he starts singing about how he doesnt trust the gods and how the gods hate them and how they need to take over the world and put the gods in their place--he and percy do their handshake fist-to-the-chest thing and luke is serious and percy does it but hes v confused and it Hurts. this is the first time in the show that luke sounds just Bitter and Angry instead of jokingly deprecating and its quite the effect

THE DARK GOOD KID REPRISE 

“ill do anything, i dont care if i hurt anyone, it doesnt pay to be a good kid, a good kid, a good son" GOD IT HURTS luke has so much pain and i feel so bad for him like yeah hes evil but,,, hes had a hard life

annabeth comes in and DISARMS LUKE but PSYCH luke has a small switchblade and STABS PERCY IN THE BACK (bc they cant use scorpions onstage)

percybeth moment interrupted by clarisse’s loud coughing and grover

percys like “we cant just sit here and wait for our parents to fix things.”

“the gods will say we’re impertinent” “we are impertinent” goddamn that symmetry

“are we ever gonna once have it easy?” my poor poor kids

percy- “feeling ready” annabeth- “feeling stoked” grover- “feeling queasy”

THE SEA DOESNT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINED

bring on the monsters is just a Good song

also hey if you got to the end of this, congrats! i have a ltm audio and either in a message or in an off-anon ask and ill hook u up

[primadonnatartuffe]

-- primadonnaTartuffe [PT] began pestering invincibleDetective [ID] -- 

PT: hey nerd im bored. 

PT: got some funny jokes to crack in my direction?? im all ears. :ear:

ID: So a hot blonde walks into a bar. Orders a double entendre. 

ID: Obviously the bartender gives it to her.

PT: lmao. 

PT: is that a joke or a short biography about ryan strider?

ID: Can't it be both?

PT: WOW. 

PT: i walked right into that. 

PT: BUT WOW!!!!

ID: Ladies and gentlemen! It came straight out of left field. 

ID: I'm not talking a clean game of limbo for Miss Strider. No, folks. This is a good old fashioned clothesline. 

ID: Neck to pole and back to the mat. Haha.

PT: I CAME OUT HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME. 

PT: youre just lucky were in your territory where verbal assaults are to your advantage. 

PT: if i were physically there youd be getting your ass beat.

ID: Then it'd be two of us getting wasted. 

ID: But hey I was already halfway there when you rang so.

PT: oh really??

ID: When I walk in the club... all eyes on me...

PT: :eye::sweat_droplets:

ID: When you're me. Every night is rave night. 

ID: But I really shouldn't be advertising this. You're a recoveree. And I'm a dunderfuck. 

ID: We all knew that, however.

PT: yeah what the fuck my dude???

PT: just kidding. im feeling alright tonight so its not quite as tempting. 

PT: itd be fun to join you though. but i wont cramp your style.

ID: Nothing more stylish than a combination cheap ass wine, smokes, no pants, and listening to audio books in what I presume is the coveted darkness of my room. 

ID: Aka, living it up.

PT: wow a lot has changed about the rave experience since i last partied. 

PT: still sounds pretty dope.

ID: I am the dopest motherfucker as they come. 

ID: I'm pretty sure lady ahead of her time Kim Kardashian said that.

PT: thats probably legit actually. like it sounds dumb enough to be.

ID: She was ahead of her time.

PT: says the man we all know to be a dunderfuck.

ID: I was roasted before I even set foot on the stage.

PT: preroasted like a rotisserie chicken at the grocery store.

ID: Heat me on high for three minutes and do me a solid. 

ID: Eat me.

PT: mmm delicious.

ID: Rrrawr.

PT: lmao okay stop right there. thats officially TOO MUCH.

ID: I honestly hate that it translated to text so well but here we are. 

ID: Living with our mistakes.

PT: im losing my goddamn mind imagining you sitting in the dark growling to yourself.

ID: It's not a phase, Ryan. It's who I am.

PT: a dunderfuck???? yes we know.

ID: You can't use it against me two times in a row, okay. It just doesn't work that way. 

ID: Sheesh.

PT: i can use it as much as i want if its still true.

ID: See. That's a little bit better.

PT: :blush:

PT: hey... what kind of work can you see me doing? im looking into getting a job right now.

ID: A job... 

ID: Why do you need one of those for.

PT: to keep me busy mostly.

ID: That's fair. 

ID: Why not join the old family enterprise. 

ID: Smuppets don't sell themselves after all.

PT: oh my god.

PT: i dont want dirk as a boss though. can you imagine?

ID: I think I can picture it pretty clearly.

PT: right? the last thing i need is my older brother lecturing me on the proper way to handle felt dicks.

ID: Our experiences on the matter are respectively different, Dirk. For fuck's sake.

PT: EXACTLY!!!!

PT: but all things considered it might be fun... if he even has anything for me to do. dude loves to micromanage.

ID: He does. But it doesn't mean your input should fall flat. 

ID: Maybe it would be good for the two of you. I mean... what's better than this? 

ID: Two siblings bonding over plush ass and felt dick. 

ID: I know what I'm doing this weekend.

PT: its hallmark worthy to be honest??? 

PT: i guess ill drop in on him sometime. we havent hung out much since ive been home anyway... 

PT: plus i bet hes having a hard time with the whole empty nest thing now that the babiest boy is outta the house.

ID: Are you sure? According to John, there's finally room for the King Baby.

PT: king baby??? 

PT: i feel like that should be emboldened. 

PT: king baby???

ID: King Baby. 

ID: Hallelujah. I say. Amen.

PT: :pray:

PT: okay well now that i have an agenda for tomorrow i guess ill leave you to your pantless evening of wine and audio books.

ID: Take it easy, Ryan. 

ID: Sleep tight when you do.

PT: i will. :heart:

PT: nighty night. 

 -- primadonnaTartuffe [PT] ceased pestering invincibleDetective [ID] --

[shadowofthelamp]

Behold, some context for this, specifically Bella’s part. I’ll add more when I actually write more about Kit’s bit.

Wordcount: 2075

The second she saw the airship soaring through the red-tinted sky, shooting anything that looked at it funny, Bella knew she had to get inside of it. Let Kit flirt with their host (or, if she was honest, fail to flirt with, man, she didn’t even like flirting and even she knew that he turned into a pile of goopy mush when he was around a guy he thought was cute) and let Vee attempt to kidnap yet another animal to try and smuggle home, she wanted to find out who the heck made a steam-powered airship in the twentieth century.

Or maybe Hell was actually stuck in the year 1900, who knew? Time probably passed funny in the afterlife, but the fact that nobody had shot them out of the sky yet said that there was something else afoot- the pilot had to have some way of warding off attacks considering rivals probably had, like, grenade launchers, and she wanted to find out how. Style merged with substance, ruling the air with confidence- and she wanted in.

“Hey! Hey you!” She flagged down somebody with four arms and purple fur who looked short enough to be less likely to punt her into orbit- Mom had warned that most people down here were mean as, well, Hell- and pointed up at the ship. “What’s the deal with those?”

“You a newly dead?” The demon raised one of their four eyes, and Bella nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, newly dead. Anyway. Story?”

“They’re made by Sir Pentious, one of the Overlords. He’s some kinda inventor, I’unno. Never blew up anything that mattered to me, so I never cared that much.”

“Sir Pentious…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, plucking the ‘T’ in the middle thoughtfully along with the rubber bands wrapped around her braces. “Got it. Thanks!”

“Er- you’re welcome.” They darted off, but that was fine. Now it was just a matter of actually getting onboard.

____________

She couldn’t find a rocket pack anywhere- lousy Hell lagging behind Earth technologically- but ended up stumbling across the next best thing in a warehouse that had an extra ship that had clearly been in some sort of accident. This one was only partially-reassembled, and there was a lot of burn damage sustained to the aluminum and copper outside, but that just meant that she could see the skeleton without having to slice through a lot of layers, so it was almost better- and a lot easier to crawl in one of the big holes in the front window via a pile of parts in front of it.

The interior was decorated like a mansion, with vivid yellows, reds, and blacks- she could respect the commitment to the aesthetic, especially with torn-open snakesheds and red eyeballs plastered everywhere. It looked like something out of Mom’s old comic book collection, toxic and yet intoxicating, every detail chosen for maximum dramatic potential. It must look even better with all the lights on and more than her phone’s flashlight illuminating bits at a time.

It was the best playground that she could imagine- nothing but her and a massive ship the size of an apartment building. Oddly enough, there wasn’t much dust- maybe it had crashed recently and was being held here for repairs? It was certainly of a similar design to the one that she’d seen from the ground, so she couldn’t imagine that it wasn’t just an iteration or two away.

Her fingers ran over the sleek machinery like it was sacred- some of it looked like it belonged in a museum, but the rest was cutting edge, and the seamless way they blended was like something out of a dream. A genius indeed- if she’d been born a hundred years ago and was suddenly thrust into the modern day, she could only hope that her tech would look this good. There was room for improvement of course, there always was, but it was loads better than most of what she saw digging through the junkyard, and a lot closer to the stuff she made with Grandpa Zim using his irken tech. Impressive for someone who’d clearly been dead for some time, considering he’d made enough of a name for himself that some rando off the street knew it.

“Genius inventor, huh…?” Bella pulled out her screwdriver, starting to work on freeing the control panel. It had a touchscreen and levers, what was that about? She had to know what it looked like underneath- did Hell even use cables and wires or was she going to need to drag Kit in to do his magic business here?

It took some doing- whatever had taken this particular ship down had welded the panel into place and it took a crowbar to pry off, ha, take that Venus for saying she ‘didn’t need to bring it’- but eventually she got into the guts of the thing. Sure enough, it was wiring, spiraled all into itself in a knot- it must have gotten all messed up at some point, maybe that was what caused the crash on top of whatever burnt the outside?

She was about to start taking it apart when she heard a pitter-patter behind her.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it, ya know,” she said, rummaging around in her pocket before pulling it out. “Mom insisted I bring the one that can vaporize people since apparently half of you can’t even die the normal way anyway? Bunch of freaks.” Her finger twitched towards the trigger as the pitter-patter became a shadow as the thing scrambled up towards the same hole she’d come in. “I’m warning you, I’m a great shot. Won’t take two to blow your brains out.”

“Whoever you are, bossman says you gotta go!”

It was an egg. Not like some kind of insult, it was literally an egg, and probably a third of her size. It was also wearing a little hand-tailored suit and top hat. She stared down at it, and it stared up at her.

“Who’s bossman?” Bella asked after a few very long seconds of silence.

“You know… bossman!” It blinked. “He doesn’t like people pokin’ around his cool, cool stuff and you tripped the motion sensor. Hey, is that a ray gun?”

Bella’s finger eased off the trigger. “Yeah, it is. It can probably scramble you.”

“Oooh! Fun! Not as good as boss’s, I’m sure, but-”

“Hey, what say you take me to this boss?” Bella crouched down, knowing this was incredibly stupid but also already entirely committed to it. “Then he can decide what to do with me in person.”

“Hmm… alright, but no funny business!” The egg looked her up and down before turning heel, starting to clamor down the pile of parts. She had to hold back a snort when she saw that it had ‘#69’ written on its back.

Some things never changed no matter where you went.

____________

The egg blabbered on all the way back to the ship, mostly about jazz music oddly enough, but soon enough they were nearing a different ship that had settled behind a building. It was either the one she’d seen before or a duplicate, and she felt a shiver run up her spine as she got close- it looked a lot cooler in one piece and lit up bright yellow. Her phone buzzed, and she discreetly pulled it out as the egg launched into a diatribe on the importance of the saxophone. It was a text from her sister.

dolittle 🐭: bells where ARE you

dolittle 🐭: kits distracting clove so I could grab one of those bugdog things but moms gonna be asking how were doing soon, what should I say

Bella thought for a moment before sending back a reply. ‘im checking out that airship we saw earlier. have weapons. ill be fine. meet you back at the cafe later’

dolittle 🐭: be careful ok? know you can handle it but still

Bella smiled a little at that, sending a thumbs up before tucking her phone back into her pocket as they ascended the bridge.

“And then, then he saysss to me, he sayssss- Ah, there you are! Good, good.” She heard him before she saw him, voice booming as he welcomed his hench-egg back. “And what was poking around the warehouse?”

“This, boss!” The egg tugged at her jeans by the knee around the corner before pushing her forward with surprising force. “They said they wanted to see you!”

“Well well well!”

Bella’s antennae twitched as her eyes widened. The man in front of her was a jet black snake, with fangs, a top hat, a bowtie, and eyes on his face as well as nestled on the open space on his chest and hood. Best she could pin from Venus’s nature lectures he was a cobra of some sort, and there was a smug fang-y grin on his face as he slithered up to her, taking advantage of the height that his tail gave him- he’d probably be seven feet easy to Bella’s mere five foot one.

It took her only a moment to shake off her awe. “So you’re the famous Sir Pentious!”

His grin widened. “Ah! You’ve heard of me, little tresssspassser?”

“Obviously, considering I knew your name, right?”

“Er- yes!” He faltered for just a moment, and she went in for the kill.

“Your work’s fantastic, but you really need a way to keep the gutty stuff in order in case of a hit- that’s probably part of why that other ship went down, y’know? But your sense of design and how you mold your century-old designs with the new stuff- it’s fantastic, I just want to cut it all open and see how it works.”

“What did you do?” His hood flared, and she twirled the gun in her hands.

“I only touched the control panel, and your little egg boy got at me before I messed with anything, but I’d give anything for a couple of days working on the interior of this place- I bet I could make it run faster and with less fuel.”

The eye on his hat rolled itself as he narrowed the eyes on his face. “Who are you to come in and think you know better than I about my own shipssss? I should end you right here for your insolence and your trespassing!”

Bella folded her arms, glancing around. “Hmm… far left column, the one with a yellow eye instead of a red one.”

“What about it?” He folded his arms as well, waggling his head. “Are you-”

“It’s welded weird. Something went wrong with the metal when it was being forged, so you put it in the back so you wouldn’t have to look at it. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good column because somebody screwed up one little part. And that’s just what I see looking around in, like, five seconds- gah!” The end of his tail had wrapped around behind her while she’d been talking, and struck before she finished her sentence, lifting her up to his eye-level with her arms pinned to her sides.

“Little wrench! How dare you?”

“I’m…” Her legs kicked a little, ribs feeling uncomfortably bendy at the moment as his scales pressed against her chest and back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

His tongue darted out as he hissed, just barely brushing her nose before sliding back into his mouth.

“What do you really want, missy? I don’t like competition, you know.”

“You to let me breathe, for one,” she wheezed, fingers turning to try tickling what she could reach, and his cheek twitched funny before she dropped bodily to the floor, only managing to roll in time thanks to muscle memory from combat training. Thanks, Grandpas. “I really do just wanna see how all your stuff works. The ways I could improve my own inventions if I just could figure out how to blend different functionalities the way that you do…”

“I am quite impresssssive, aren’t I?” He puffed up his chest a bit. “And you have no intention to-”

Bella drew an X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You’re the bossman.”

He looked her up and down. “Hmm. Get back to me when you have a proper uniform and not those ragssss, and I suppose I could show you around a bit, if- if!- you show me something of yourssss.  ”

Bella’s grin slipped into a smirk as she gave a bow. “Bella Donna at your service, then, Sir Penny.”