#rest in piece dude. gone but not forgotten

[samstarium]

what do we want to nickname sollux's pizza delivery troll

i suggest ubberh eetzah but i'm open to constructive criticism

[maybanksprincess]

seven minutes in heaven

warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, mature themes, dry humping, tongue kissing.

summary: a game of seven minutes in heaven leads to reader and jj stuck in a closet together.

pairings: childhood!bsf!jj x childhood!bsf!reader

requested by this ask (thank you anon!) i dont know much about the game, so if i got one of the steps wrong, im sorry in advance.

you and the rest of the pogues gathered together on a saturday night to drink beers, smoke weed, and play spin the bottle. typical pogue shit.

all of you were sat in a circle on the carpet in the living room floor of the chateau. there was a glass beer bottle in the middle of all seven of you.

for a half hour, the game was spin the bottle. everyone's facial expressions quickly grew bored. John B, and Sarah were talking about something totally different, Pope and Cleo gone to grab a new crate of beers.

After a few more moments of all of you staring at the wall blankly, Kiara's the first to break the awkward silence. "hey what's that game we all used to play when we were sophmores?" she asks, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her pointer finger.

after kiara speaks, jjs facial expression changes to one of interest. he thinks for a moment and then speaks, "the one where you get locked in a closet for like ten minutes?" he asks

Pope rounds the corner with a few beers tucked in his arm. Cleo not far behind him "seven minutes." he corrects, pointing a finger at him.

jj rolls his eyes at the correction and mimics a mouth with his hand, mocking his words "seven minutes" he says, trying his best to sound as much like pope as possible.

you flick the back of jjs neck, mumbling a shut up to him. he lets out a high pitched ow and rolls his eyes, but ultimately he stops his mocking.

John b turns back towards the group at the mention of the new game. "are we finally gonna play something other than spin the bottle? im kinda tired of landing on Sarah." he teases

Sarah shoves him playfully, and then turns back to the topic of conversation. "Yeah we should play, it sounds fun. how does it work?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

Pope speaks up this time, "we spin a bottle for two people, whichever two people it lands on, they go in a closet together for seven minutes to do whatever they want." he adds with a hint of suggestion at the end of his sentence.

jj smirks and turns to look at you, memories of the last time you two played this game when you were fifteen, when you shared your first kiss.

it was the first kiss for both of you, so it was sloppy and had a lot of teeth and tongue, it was sickening to think about, but never forgotten.

jj pipes up next, "yup we can play. this games borin' anyways." he says with a shrug.

everyone else agrees and shifts themselves back into a circle on the carpet. Pope places the bottle in the middle, then darting his eyes from one pogue to another.

"so whos first?" pope speaks

jj doesn't waste a second in volunteering to go first. "me! uh- ill spin first." he says, clearing his throat. everyones eyes fly to jj, giving him a questioning look.

"dude you answered that way too fast." john b says with a growing smirk on his face, his eyes now flickering between me and jj sitting beside one another.

"dude shut up!" jj says, before reaching forward and spinning the glass bottle, he crosses his arms and sneakily crosses his fingers hoping, praying, that it lands on you.

everyones eyes are glued intensely to the bottle, the tension in the small room palpable.

eventually the bottle comes to a stop, the tip of it pointing right to your knee. jj has to hold back from jumping up and saying something like hell yeah!

he instantly stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. "cmon m'lady." he teases, and looks at you with his typical shit eating grin.

you roll your eyes and take his hand, standing up and walking to the closed closet with him.

"i bet everyone can guess what they're gonna do in that closet." john b says with a smirk, as he watches jj open the closet door and enter.

"gross! i dont even wanna think about it." kie adds on, then everyone starts to whisper about both of you in the open circle.

as you both get in the cramped closet, jj takes a seat on stacked boxes that clearly say "fragile" but he obviously doesn't seem to mind. he looks up at you still standing there awkwardly in the dimly lit space.

"seems oddly familiar, doesn't it?" he teases. your brain floods with memories of you and jj in the same situation back in sophomore year.

you both had been in this exact crammed closet, deciding you could both share you first kiss together. it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and you both were trying to figure out a comfortable spot to place your hands. it was an awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but it was stuck in your brain nonetheless.

"yeah, really familiar." you chuckle nervously, looking around, and tapping your foot on the ground. you avoid eye contact with the blonde, hoping this seven minutes would pass by quickly.

he notices your shift in mood, and he smirks. he spreads his legs and moves his arms behind his head as he speaks.

"you know, were in here for a whole seven minutes. we should put it to good use, right?" he was enjoying making you nervous, and teasing you.

when he doesn't get a response, he gently pulls you onto his lap so your straddling him. he looks up into your eyes in the dimly lit closet, with something you cant quite describe.

before you know it, your both leaning in slowly, jj is the one to connect his lips with yours. the kiss was gentle and chaste at first, your mouths moving passionately against one another.

jjs hands find their way to your waist, gently caressing the flesh. you take that as a sign to move your hands up his torso, then settling your arms around his neck, all while continuing to kiss him passionately.

the kiss grows more intense over time, your tongues fighting for dominance against one another. eventually you catch yourself grinding your hips against his, as you both makeout.

minutes go by, and he finds himself lost in your kisses and the way your grinding your hips against his. his cock doesn't take long to stir in his cargo shorts.

when you feel his buldge press up against you, your hips move a little faster, the kisses becoming more desperate. before you know it, a light is shining in the closet and the sound of the door creaking fills your ears.

you pull away from jjs lips briefly to look at who opened the door.

"seven minutes are up, lovebirds." john b says with a jerk of his head, motioning for you two to get out the closet with a smirk.

[annievrse]

the special t-shirt

roronoa zoro x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb a/n: just a little stupid thing i wrote to get away from the angst of labyrinth

“Dude, c’mon.”

You blink, your chopsticks full of rice pausing halfway to your mouth. The crew continues chattering around you. “What?”

“What?” Zoro gives you a deadpan look, food pushed into the side of his cheek. "This is serious."

Robin watches you two across the table, a smirk playing on her lips. She watches Zoro furrow his eyebrows at you as you ignore him.

"I said I was sorry," You say. "What else do you want me to say, bro?"

"Bro?" Zoro scoffs, turning his body toward you. He props his elbow on the table and leans to the side to glance at your face. "Call me that again... see what happens."

You shake your head, your laugh is humourless. "You're unbelievable."

Zoro makes a sound of indignation. "Me? You called me bro. I'm not your bro."

"Yeah, and you called me dude! What's the difference?"

You barely notice the chatter slowing down and coming to an abrupt halt as you and Zoro glare at each other.

"Hey," Franky says, nervous laughter following. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing."

The crew eyes you wearily, Nami jabbing her thumb over her shoulder. Luffy tilts his head in confusion, and the rest get up quickly, their plates forgotten.

"Oh!" Luffy giggles. "Trouble in paradise, huh?"

"You idiot!" Nami whispers harshly, pulling him to stand by the collar of his shirt. "Hurry up."

You watch her drag Luffy out of the galley, Chopper and Brook sulking as they follow everyone else out. Sanji hovers in the doorway, eyes on Zoro.

"Don't fuck this up, mosshead."

Zoro scrunches his face, opening his mouth to retort, but Sanji's gone before he can. "Dick."

You sigh deeply, rubbing your forehead with your palm. "Zo'."

"Hate that guy—"

"Can you please tell me what's wrong?'

Zoro's eyebrows raise, and he shrugs one shoulder. "Yeah."

You wait for him to speak, but when he says nothing, you poke him.

Zoro swats your hand away, face set in a deep scowl. "You used my favourite shirt to wipe the ink off your hand."

You blink, sighing as the guilt rises again. "I know, I'm sorry. The ink pot spilled, and it was so close to the logbook; your shirt was the first thing I saw, and I panicked. I—I'll buy you a new one—"

"No," he mumbles, eye cast down to his lap.

You purse your lips, your throat thick with emotion. "Sorry..."

"Besides, you have no money."

You gape at him. "Do, too! Who do you think buys all your alcohol?"

Zoro's eyes soften, and he tilts his head like he's trying to get a better look at you. But before he can get too sappy, he rolls his eyes.

"Anyway, the point is that you can't buy me a new one."

"Why not?" You reach over to pick a piece of fluff off his shoulder. He lets you, his gaze on you. "It's a plain white shirt. They have those everywhere."

"Because you can't," Zoro shrugs, his fingers fidgeting in his lap.

Chewing your bottom lip, you know there's more to this than he's letting on.

"Zoro," You say, resting your palm on his cheek. "What's this about?"

"I—uh, the shirt... it was. No," he shakes his head. "It's nothing."

You've rarely seen him this nervous, especially around you, in all the years you've been together. It scares you.

"Please," You whisper, sliding down the bench. "If it's bothering you this much, it's more than nothing."

Zoro huffs and looks to the ceiling before closing his eye. His hand circles around your waist, pulling you near. Your shoulder is under his armpit when he's done getting comfortable—as comfortable as you can get on a wooden bench.

"It's my favourite shirt."

You nod, urging him to go on. "Mmhm."

"And it happens to be the same shirt I was wearing when... when we... you know."

A smile spreads across your cheeks. "Say it."

Zoro scoffs lightly, a blush dusting his cheeks. "When we first met."

You make a sound of pure happiness. "You little sap!"

"Shut up," he mumbles, though his words have no bite. A sheepish grin pulls at the corners of his mouth.

But your joy is short-lived when you realise the problem. "And I ruined it."

Zoro shakes his head. "Don't be stupid... it's not like it still fits me. You know, since I've gotten bigger muscles and chest and all that..."

"Yeah, your tits are huge."

"They're pecs."

You laugh, kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"You already said that," Zoro mutters, face warming when your lips meet his skin.

"I can wash it," You say. "I'm sure I can find some super, powerful soap that'll wash the ink right out."

Zoro shrugs. "If you want."

You tilt your head as you consider him. What he really means is, yes, please.

"Wanna come with me? You can sit pretty on the sink while I wash it."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

You stand from the bench with an eyebrow raised. "What?"

"I don't sit pretty. That's your job."

You ignore the comment and step out, holding your hand out. "C'mon."

But before Zoro can clasp his fingers around yours, the galley door swings open, the crew comically crowding the doorway.

"We good?" Franky asks, voice tight. Chopper, Brook, and Usopp hold their breath, and Nami and Robin smile. Sanji rolls his eyes and Luffy bursts through everyone to get back to the food.

Zoro's soft expression morphs into a scowl at the sight of them. "Yeah, not that it's any of your business..."

"Good! I'm starving," Luffy exclaims, plopping himself down at the table and scoffing down food from the remaining plates.

"Hey! That's mine!" Usopp yells, rushing over to Luffy before pulling him into a loose headlock.

You wrap your hand around Zoro's bicep and tug him toward the laundry room below deck.

After scrubbing at the t-shirt for an hour, the water murky and the soap almost empty, Zoro holds the too-small shirt against his torso. He gives you a gleaming smile, one reserved for you, and despite the sparse grey splotches visible, he's more than content with the effort. Zoro leans down to press his lips to your forehead, mumbling about his gratitude.

Safe to say, the following morning, Zoro stretches the shirt onto his body, the seams cracking and the hems cutting off the circulation in his arms. The crew laughs at him, but he smiles proudly when he sees your giggles.

You didn't ruin his shirt but added a new memory that he will treasure until the end of time.

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 3/8

Just an extra long chapter here because they didn't want to shut up. They're getting closer and their best friends are slowly coming on board to the idea.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Eddie was vibrating. Chrissy had done a total deep dive into this guy and other then being a bratty teenager and having shit parents there was nothing in Steve’s closet that would set off alarm bells.

Steve Harrington just knew how to deal with people to get what he wanted. He knew when to back off, too. In fact, Eddie was trying to get the dude stop backing off so much.

He was a people pleaser with eroded boundaries. And while that was certainly a problem, it wasn’t a ‘might be a serial killer’ problem like Chrissy thought.

So yeah, Eddie was vibrating because he was going to show Steve his first set of sketches for him to okay the design.

Steve was late. He had called to let him know he would be late. A meeting had gone over and he would be there as soon as he could.

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped through the designs he had come up with. He itched to pull out a pencil and “fix” a line or seven. But he had to refrain. If he started on it he would be so far down the rabbit hole that he would have three new designs before Steve got here.

A shadow crossed over him and he looked up to see Steve standing there.

“Steve!” he greeted warmly, getting to his feet.

They shook hands and then sat down.

“So what have you got for me?” Steve asked eagerly, leaning on his forearms to see Eddie’s drawing pad.

Eddie grinned at him. “I’ve got loads, big boy.” He turned the drawing pad around and Steve paid diligent attention to each piece.

He went back to the third design and turned it back to face Eddie. “I like this one. But I have one suggestion, if I may?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure.”

“What if the dragon’s wings spread out over the four other pieces connecting them?” Steve asked, biting on his lip.

Eddie began to sketch furiously while Steve watched in fascination.

“Have you ever thought about streaming your process?” Steve asked. “It’s very enthralling.”

Eddie’s head jerked up like he’d forgotten Steve was there at all. He looked down at his pad and blushed. “I never thought I’d have the patience for it, you know? The whole explaining it while I’m doing it.”

Steve nodded. “I can see why that might deter you. But if you just drew or painted and put music over the top, I think it would do very well.”

“And would you be my first subscriber?” Eddie teased.

“Hell yeah!” Steve said with a grin. “And I would tell everyone I know to subscribe too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He slid the drawing back over to Steve, who grinned.

“Perfect.”

*

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy hissed as she threw open the door to their loft. “You tell me right now: are you joking about the YouTube channel?”

Eddie looked up from his sketching and blinked at her. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

She walked over to where he had sprawled out in front of the five canvasses and flopped down across from him. “I am pleased but only if you aren’t trying to butter me up to leave you alone about your ridiculous crush.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth, licking and smacking his lips as he struggled for words.

“It’s about the crush but not in the way you mean…?” he said with a grimace.

She crossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees. She rested her head on her knuckles to stare him down. He wiggled and squirmed under her gaze.

“Explain.”

So Eddie did.

Chrissy rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “So no talking but what if I convinced you to let me write words to put up on the screen while you paint talking about the subject matter and why you chose it?”

“Oh!” he said brightly. “Even better! Why don’t I talk about D&D or music while I paint? That way I can babble to my hearts content without out having to drone on about the process.”

She blinked at him. “Eddie Munson you are a genius.” She rose up on her still crossed legs and kissed him soundly on the forehead. “I love it and you.”

Eddie blushed and went back to his sketching.

*

“Steve!” Dustin screamed into his ear when he picked up the phone mere days after his last meeting with Eddie.

“God, kid,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down. I don’t want to go deaf please.”

He could practically feel the eye roll from here.

“Eddie Munson has a YouTube channel!” Dustin continued to scream. “Oh my god do you know how big this is?!”

“One, I need to you to breath before you pass out from lack of oxygen to your brain,” Steve said. “You like your brain, don’t abuse it like this.”

Dustin let out a slow shuddering breath. “Right. I’m breathing.”

“Good,” Steve said slowly. “And two, I know about the channel because he told me about it.”

“You already know?” Dustin squawked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve sighed. “Look at the clock and tell me what time it is?”

“2:37pm. Why?”

“What time did the channel go live?” Steve asked, pinch the bridge of his nose.

“About one.”

“And where would you have been at one?” he asked, his eyes fluttering shut against the audacity of this kid.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, bud,” Steve said. “Oh. You were in class. Which I still don’t understand why you are taking summer classes. You’re young, you should enjoy your life.” He tilted his head. “How did you find out so fast anyway?”

“I follow Eddie on twitter, Facebook, Instragram, and his fan Discord server.” This was said as though it was obvious.

“Well now you have one more place to follow him,” Steve said ignoring the tone.

“Steve…” Dustin said, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you his first subscriber?”

“Look, Dustin,” he said trying to keep the giggle in his throat from bursting through, “I’ve got to run. I have a meeting.”

“Stev–”

Steve sighed as he held the phone against his forehead, grateful they weren’t in person.

“Yeah, Steve,” Robin said from the doorway, “why were you his first subscriber?”

He blushed a dark red. “Because I promised I would be when I suggested the channel three days ago?”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

Steve wasn’t sure what she saw, but he knew he would find out soon enough.

*

Eddie was working on Dustin’s first because he felt like it was the most important to get right. Wizards were usually portrayed as dusty old men and it appeared that this kid had done the same. But then the character was created ten years ago.

But Eddie decided to avoid a Gandolf/Dumbledore looking dude and went more for a Jafar that had gotten the time to grow old. A neat goatee, a sharp piercing gaze and weather-beaten skin.

His robe had stars on it according to Will the Wise’s picture of them. So he decided to make the robe look it was filled with swirling galaxies and nebulae.

Eddie was working on the cave background when his phone chirped. He tucked his paintbrush behind his ear and pulled it out.

Rich Pretty Boy: I got ahold of a couple of friends of mine that are going to help promote your charity. Nancy Wheeler is an investigative journalist most of the time but she owes me a favor and is willing to interview you about the charity to get it seen on a national platform. I’ll email you the details.

Eddie blinked at his phone in shock. Nancy Wheeler was the new and improved Barbara Walters (improved as in she wasn’t an ass to the people she was interviewing.) That must be a huge fucking favor she owed Steve if he got her for this.

EM: Holy shit! What kind of blackmail do you have on her for this?

RPB: LOL! I’m sworn to secrecy, sorry. :(

EM: All right, keep your secrets.

RPB: That’s LotR, right?

EM: Correct. I know you keep telling me you aren’t a nerd, but dude every time we talk I gather more and more evidence to the contrary.

RPB: I blame Dustin. He wore me down.

EM: Then I take it upon myself to complete the education that Sir Dustin has begun!

EM: Meet me at my loft on Friday at 8pm. We are going to start with the animated classics of the 80s!

RPB: Beer or wine?

EM: Beer.

EM: I’ll see you later, pretty boy. I have this huge project I’m working on that is on a deadline.

RPB: Curse the bastard that’s taking up all your time. ;)

Eddie laughed out loud.

EM: He’s the worst. ;)

RPB: See you on Friday, Eds.

EM: Laters!

Eddie put his phone down with a fond smile on his face. It was absolutely ridiculous how much he loved this beautiful idiot that had come in and swept him off his feet.

*

“Tell me again why I have to be here for this?” Chrissy complained for the fifth time that hour.

“Because fair Christine,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “it’s not a date and he’s bringing his best friend.”

“How is his secretary his best friend anyway?” she groused, folding her arms and burying herself into the big fluffy sofa.

Eddie rolled his eyes and flopped down next to her. “They were friends before he took over the business. They had worked together in every job they’ve ever had so when he took over he put the one person he could trust in front of his office to shield himself from the assholes who make his life a living hell.”

Chrissy pursed her lips. “Fine.”

He kissed her cheek and went to go get the popcorn and candy.

“You ever going to tell this Steve you have a hard on for him?” she asked as he kept swapping bowls around for best placement.

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “Not while he’s paying me, anyway.”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s fair. It’s just...”

“That I have it so bad my only two thoughts are painting and Steve?” he finished for her.

“And me,” she agreed. “But pretty much.”

He put his head on her shoulder. “I’ve never fallen this hard for a person before. He’s sweet and funny and an absolute dork.”

Chrissy kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be good tonight. No bitching or being mean.”

Eddie snorted. “He’s also a queen bitch. So you can be you all you want. Just...”

She turned on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest. “But what?”

“When he starts gushing about something don’t...” he floundered for the right words. “Just don’t make him feel small about it.”

Chrissy tilted her head to side. “Has people made him feel small about his interests?”

Eddie nodded. “I think his parents were like yours, if I’m honest.”

“Rich, entitled assholes who wanted a doll and not a child?” she asked bitterly. He nodded. She sighed heavily. “Yeah okay. You got me. I know the signs and will adjust accordingly.”

He threw his arms around her and gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Just then the doorbell rang.

“They’re here,” Eddie said nervously.

Chrissy leaned down to look at him. “Do you want me to answer the door to give you a second to prepare?”

He nodded.

She gave his hands a squeeze and gracefully slid off the couch to do just that. She bounded over to the door and threw it open. And yeah, objectively she knew what Steve looked like, but seeing him out of his trademark blue power suit was a revelation. And immediately she got why Eddie fell hard for this guy.

He was wearing a David Bowie t-shirt from his Ziggy Stardust era and tight, light blue jeans. His sneakers were Nike’s, and his watch was Schwartz but those were the only major shows of wealth.

Next to him was not what she was expecting either. Chrissy was expecting someone more bookish. Glasses, frumpy. Or even the extreme opposite, a fashion plate. Someone who fit the sexy secretary stereotype. But nope.

She was fashionable, Chrissy had to give her that, but not in the way she thought. Billowy pants with a long-sleeved button up with sleeves rolled up to her elbows and pair of colorful suspenders. Her blonde hair was artfully tousled and she had freckles on her nose and cheeks.

In short, Chrissy was in love.

“Hi!” she greeted as though her heart wasn’t going to leap out of her chest to prostrate itself before this lovely maiden, only for her stomp all over it.

“Hey,” Steve smiled back. “You must be the agent/best friend, Chrissy I’ve been hearing so much about. It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

The woman elbows him. “Face to the name, dingus.”

Steve flushed. “I’m so glad I have you here to correct me.”

“Come on in,” Chrissy said warmly, moving out of the way for them to enter the loft. Inwardly she briefly wondered if maybe the best friend was the cause of the “limiting” as Eddie called it.

“Thanks!” he said and then pointed to the woman next to him. “This is Robin my platonic soulmate, best friend, and all around Stevie wrangler. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Aww,” Robin said with a smile and hip check.

Steve stumbled but laughed, too.

By the time they reach the living area Chrissy still wasn’t sure what to think about these two.

Eddie leapt to his feet at the sight of them.

“Stevie! Robin!” he greeted brightly. “You found the place okay?”

Robin nodded. “I’m glad you gave us directions on top of the whole GPS otherwise we would have ended up in some cemetery.”

Chrissy grimaced. “Yeah. But that cemetery was here before the condos and high rises so I can’t complain. Even though I really, really want to.”

“How old is the cemetery?” Steve asked eagerly.

She looked over at Eddie for help. “I don’t actually know.”

“Uh...” Eddie said unhelpfully. “I don’t know exactly but I know it’s over a century old.”

Steve lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“You like old graveyards, Steve?” Chrissy asked. She sat down on the sofa and grabbed the bag of popcorn.

“Steve is obsessed with them,” Robin said playfully.

“Am not,” he said and then turned to Chrissy and Eddie. “I’m really not. I just think it’s super neat.”

“What makes them so neat?” Eddie asked, taking the beer from Steve and setting it on the table with the array of goodies.

“Like seeing a bunch of people with similar death years knowing that it was because of a pandemic,” Steve said. “Or on Memorial Day going to see all the American flags for those that died during war time. It’s all just endlessly fascinating.”

“I could take you some time,” Eddie said. “Have a picnic lunch, make a day out of it.”

“You’d do that?” he asked eagerly.

Chrissy bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie here likes graveyards because they’re spooky.”

Steve laughed. “That’s a great reason to like graveyards.”

They settled down to watch the movies Eddie had picked out for them. A double feature of “The Hobbit” and “The Return of the King”.

“Holy shit!” Steve said afterwards. “How did they get more faithful to the books in less time than Peter Jackson?”

Eddie laughed. “Good story telling.”

They finally left for the night and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Thoughts?” Eddie asked.

“And prayers,” Chrissy said. “Holy fuck do you have it bad. And I’ll swear under oath that if there is a god, he made Steve especially for you.”

He blushed. “Fuck, you can’t say that.”

“Why not?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Because it feels that way for me, too,” he whined, “and if you think that too, then I’m royally fucked.”

Chrissy sighed. “Yeah.”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[cakesandfail]

Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?

Actually yes I do!

I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:

There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement

That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)

Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy

So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:

Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.

This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.

And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.

[lovemaiyo]

CANT GET ENOUGH OF YOUR LOVE, 나의 천사 ! dan heng. ★ honkai star rail modern au. ⊹ note . idk

yet again, your mom had forgotten to pick you up. it was 5pm, and none of your friends were willing to give you a ride. "walk home." one of your friends had said ("fuck off," you'd said back.) the only option left was to ride the public train with the kids from the private school across from yours. that was all nice and cute, but there was one problem. you hadn't known that the kids (or kid, in this case) from that private school would be this... attractive? especially the one you were sitting across from. he was sitting on the seat, slightly manspreading. he had a lean and fairly muscular body from what you could see. his black hair was dissheleved and fell across his face, a sharp contrast to his viridescent eyes. he was half-heartedly listening to whatever his friend, a girl with short pink hair, was saying. she was talking animatedly about something, while he sat there, listening, looking totally uninterested. your first thought was - look cool ! - so you wore your school jacket and slightly unzipped it, and took out your phone and started aimlessly scrolling through your settings app and typing stuff on the search bar. the ride was a long one - you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. some time passed. you stole glances at the cute guy in front of you. once, his friend caught you. she didn't say anything but you could feel her smirking. you almost died of embarrassment then and there. the pink girl started making hand motions and excitedly talking to the guy. suddenly he said - "march, do you have a pen and a few scraps of paper?" "hm? yeah, dan heng, but why?" he just hummed. march rummaged through her bag and proudly presented a messily torn half of a page, and a bright pink pen. the guy - whos name was dan heng - took the paper, tore it in half again, and quickly scribbled something. he stuck it on march's head. it said.. it said "free kicks?!" you almost snorted and quickly hid your face. dan heng tucked the other paper in his hoodie pocket. about halfway, you fell asleep. unbeknowst to you, march was wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces towards you and dan heng. dan heng groaned. he had to admit, you were pretty cute. he noticed you taking quick peeks at him earlier. he knew he was attractive, he just didn't have any interest in dating. until now, when he met this cute little stranger on the train. "their uniform looks like the same one from the school across the street, no?" march whispered. ".." dan heng answered. he was too busy looking at your sleeping face. "ew, danny boy, are you staring at them sleep? creep!!" march exclaimed. "... march, stop making it weird.." dan heng groaned. the train suddenly hit some bumpy tracks and you jolted awake. you rubbed your eyes and sighed before realizing you were still on the train... with the cute guy... HOLY SHIT, YOU WERE ON A TRAIN WITH A HOT DUDE!! you quickly fixed your messy hair from the short nap (unless ur bald 😓🙏🏻). the train intercom announced the next stop, which was about 5 minutes before the stop you got off on. those 5 minutes passed rather quickly. march was on her phone, taking pictures while dan heng was resting, eyes closed and arms crossed. " ding ding !! the train is now approaching xxxxxx stop ! please gather all belongings, as the train staff are not responsible for any lost objects . " that was it, that was your stop ! in your haste, you forgot your phone on your seat. you were halfway off the station when you felt your right pocket and said - "fuck, i forgot my phone !" you rushed back into the train. thankfully, the doors were still open and your phone was still there. march and dan heng were gone, though. you quickly grabbed your phone when you saw something fall out from the bottom. it was a piece of paper ?

" you're cute . +123 45678910"

scribbled in pink ink.

⪩ ⪨ lovemaiyo 2022 - 2025 . choose wisely

[rottenbrainstuff]

Bg3 playthrough: exploring the underdark, Dhourn + friends

(Spoilers)

Wow this area is so dangerous, haha! I never thought I’d need to rest just from walking around. Dangerous but SO PRETTY! I took a million screenshots of my tav backlight by all the glowing mushrooms and the beautiful sussur tree. Plus now I’ve figured out how to not get blown up by the red mushrooms so I’m navigating much better.

I am playing the game on easy, but you know what, I am actually thinking I just may switch to medium. I’m actually finding the fights a bit TOO easy now. The underdark monsters are scary and tougher than the ones on the surface, but I feel like it’s not much fun if I can kill everyone in one round.

At least the spectator fight took a couple rounds longer. Holy smokes I didn’t know that fight was there at all, total surprise. Oh wow I have triggered a cut scene while I walk through an area full of… ominous drow statues… I’m sure that everything is fine….. Oh shit.

I was kind of expecting that fight to be a bit harder. TBF it WAS really hard in the beginning when I didn’t know how to approach the fight, and didn’t want to attack the un-petrified drow at all. In the end though I found dissonant whispers works quite handy on the spectator, and I realized hitting the drow exactly once will break their charm and they will fight with me. After knowing that, we smashed that spectator like a birthday pinata.

And what was my reward? A conversation with the most insufferable little dickhead I have seen in the game so far, lmao! Dhourn was absolutely hilarious. What a stupid little piece of shit. I love how he’s going on and on about all this bullshit that the player doesn’t even have a clue about, basically just having a conversation with himself while you watch. “What? You didn’t rescue me, I ALLOWED you to ASSIST me.” Little jerkoff. I absolutely LOVED how indignant he was that a rival brought a spectator to the negotiations, because it messed up the ambush that he had planned. Oh, drow. I wonder if my tav missed this kind of petty drama, lol. And no matter what you do**, in the end he fights you. Which is… I mean yes, this is all the thanks I get from this asshole, but also hilarious, like, my dude you have a quarter the HP that the WEAKEST member of my party does, plus that spectator took a chunk out of you, what did you think was going to happen here?

**there is only one single way (that I could see) to have Dhourn SURVIVE the spectator fight and NOT attack you when it’s done, and that one single way is to be / be disguised as a female drow. His dialogue won’t be too much different, he’ll still rattle on and even if you are a female drow he can barely keep his contempt contained, but you do get some extra dialogue options and the ability to convince him to back off. In the end though, it didn’t make much roleplay sense - why would my character have known before the fight to disguise himself as a female drow? and fuck that guy anyways, he’s insufferable, so we ended up fighting him and I don’t feel bad about it.

By the beautiful, beautiful sussur tree, we ran into one of the rivals he mentioned, Filro the Forgotten. He’s a sad little guy singing a sad little song in his camp that’s covered with hook horror shit, lmao. It was sad to beat him up, but I couldn’t figure out a way to talk to him, and online seemed to confirm that there isn’t. He’s probably just as insufferable as Dhourn though so I imagine no great loss there. Damn, poor little guy though. If you creep up close enough without aggoring him, you can hear him singing. He gets quite unhinged during the fight. If you speak to his corpse without disguising yourself, he will accuse you of killing his beloved. (which I don’t… THINK? was the hook horror I killed? He sings a song about a Melinda, his true love, who has gone missing / left him / died. I think the poor guy has just gone nuts. Internet suggests Melinda is the dead gnome at the camp but personally I don’t agree, his corpse will say the hook horrors brought him gnome meat to eat and I assumed the gnome was just… a snack. Internet people are saying the stupidest things about this game anyways so I don’t trust a single person on any forum that I see) Poor old guy.

Blurg and his uh, unusual associate were quite the surprise!

Then I found the kuo toa colony. Astarion gives a 5 approval if you kill their false god, which causes them to start worshiping you. I’m sure he thinks it’s fucking hilarious and he’s going to call my tav the great mahkloompah all the time now. Also spit take? Doni can write?? And has a dad somewhere??? PLEASE tell me I can find this poor kid’s dad and reunite them???? (please tell me when I meet Doni again I can write him a message?) God these tieflings make me so sad and I haven’t even got to the sad parts yet.

Fun things I have done so far with the spectator bottle:

Opened it in the druid grove right in front of my least favourite druid, very satisfying to watch those bastards fry.

Sicced it on that spectator by the temple.

Tried opening it at camp right beside Withers hoping to get a fun reaction out of him, but nope, nothing.

I’m having so much fun in the underdark. I’m really struggling though between the urge to go everywhere, see everything, do everything and rip through this game as fast as I can because everything is so cool and I want to see all the neat things that happen in act 2 and 3, and the urge to go slow, mill around, even reload and replay some scenes, take my time and slowly enjoy the shit out of it.

[ashton-ryder]

"The first drink with a new customer is always a litmus test," Ash back then as a bartender would've probably then top up his drink with three limes and some flair for the heck of it. Though it has been a long time ago from a very different life, while Ash hasn't forgotten it, it did take awhile to work back in the muscle memory. For a long time in those later years he was bartending for himself and he was one of those customers that needed the fastest way to numb himself.

Ash rested his head on his palm and elbow to the bar as he listened and watch Eric yap on, interjecting at amusing points with his own jokes, "oh that quarantine suite was huge, plenty of space for privacy." Conveniently leaving out his own experience of having quiet soft moments of privacy in the middle of the night with Jer. "Plus having to have a perfect first date in this building really limits a lot of things." As open as Eric was being with him, Ash felt bad that he couldn't reciprocate the sentiment, keeping his own.. situation to himself. But he can be here to be a listening ear. "Oh, so my boundaries are the only ones you won't respect, got it," he laughed and saw an opening in Eric's point to poke fun at without any bite or truth, only sarcasm. "Guess that's the benefit of having siblings." He wouldn't really know but he wished he did growing up.

He picked up the drink poured to him for the first time since it was offered to him, smiling at the scene Eric was painting for him, it sounded adorable at the very least. "Did she now? Guess we.. bonded over food in quarantine." Bonded was a strong word to use when all he did was managed to make her less scared of him by giving her all his food that he couldn't stomach. That evening on the rooftop was probably the one time they really bonded in any capacity. "Who knew Doom was always the ultimate wingman," sipping on the glass after raising it to the good pup, "you know how to sign? I couldn't really understand much of it when she did."

Ash paused for a long while after before deciding to add, "if I could give any advice to help you.. just let her build herself back together again." He can't fully grasp what Aggie has gone through himself, but there's the small part of him understanding the time needed to collect the broken pieces and put yourself back together. "That's all I got though, good luck dude." Terrible wingman, unlike Doom.

"Sure! It's so tricky though, cause one bartender told me about a guy who looked like a typical lone wolf from a thriller, ordered Cuba Libre with two lime wedges, and was disappointed as fuck when the guy just poured him a drink." Eric chuckled at the absurdity of the anecdote; obviously, their equation shouldn't include eccentric people, they tend to be hard to read. But the longer he thought about it... Two lime wedges were a bit too specific not to be a hint... or weren't they? Tricky. Zach would probably call him a final boss.

He wasn't good at hiding his feelings and thoughts when he didn't have to. Too tired of wearing masks and hiding way too many things from way too many people, he finally let go. So even if Ash did laugh at him a little (Eric just chuckled and shook his head at that, knowing there was no malice behind that reaction), he felt relaxed enough in his company to talk about almost anything.

Eric sipped his whiskey as he listened, putting a lot of effort into stopping himself from asking what he had learned about the guys on the beach. Even if they didn't know any relevant details, it was easy to imagine what Ash might have meant by that. The pre-outbreak world had seen enough violence for them to know what this one could be capable of, and when he remembered the fear in her eyes and her whole body when they were still on the beach... He quickly turned his attention to "Ziggy's sister" and Ash's question. "It was too crowded for a perfect first date," he joked back, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "I might trespass and pour myself drinks, but having an autistic brother is a good lesson on respecting people's boundaries and giving them time. I've helped him open up, he's teaching me how to calm the fuck down."

He smiled at the other with a little shrug. It's not even that he wanted to persistently follow Aggie until she fell into his arms - it couldn't be further from a typical "I'm gonna make her mine". Something made him want to protect the tiny blonde, even if she would never fully open up. As long as she was safe, that's all that matters. "I ran into her with Doom the other day. We've played with him together, he knows all the fancy icebreakers and made her laugh. And she signs so we have talked a little." He playfully arched a brow. "She even mentioned sharing her bread with you at some point."

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

I love your asexual explanation if it had more weight in reality I would be more understanding.

...however....

...I know too much...

I probably just don't like fake bitches and the commander was a real one that tried to make an informed decision for the sake of everyone else. It was a poor one, don't get me wrong.

Volo....

He wants to become the gods of the next world because he thinks the Pokemon world sucks despite the fact that the internet hasn't even been invented yet and he only knows one freaking area like damn you haven't even seen the rest of the world. what.. does he look at people who are being happy and goes "that is fake??" I can't imagine the pain that he must have think that he's gone through to apply it to literally everyone.

He's going to fix this usurping God? how??? HOW does he know anything about being God?? What makes him think that he has the qualifications for that??

It's the equivalent of looking at somebody's cool art piece and then trying to destroy that cool art piece to make a better art piece without even knowing how to make art

Oh yeah and that art piece is the state of reality of which you exist on.

The commander wouldn't have made that decision if Volo wasn't being a stupid bitch.

(Sorry I've been holding this unkept rage for a while because people don't realize the gravity of what Volo was trying to do.

I should probably delete most of this but you seem like the type that would enjoy it so...*shrugs

Maybe discussing this with you might make me stop being so angry at this because you're so insightful.)

qhkjhkjh ok first of all "I love your asexual explanation" took me OUT. is that what it is. ghskjshskjh i guess so

anyway like. and to start off with this is NOT me trying to defend volo. he's evil and deranged and most of all kind of pathetic and these are INTEGRAL parts of his character. but. i really do think that in the end he's someone with severe clinical depression in an era where that isn't really a recognized Thing you can get Help For and who also has been given esoteric knowledge about the nature of the gods that rule reality that apparently everyone else has forgotten. so instead of going "everything is terrible and it's pointless" it's "everything is terrible... and i know an extremely drastic way to fix it." that's at least the angle i come at him from.

and as for the second part... this is i think something that's more my take than like, canon or fanon, But. usually the way i come at it is that volo didn't want to make himself god, he wanted to make giratina god. he wanted giratina to usurp arceus and create its own ideal world, wherein he would presumably be rewarded with some sort of immortal high-priest role or something i honestly don't think he thought that far ahead.

anyway though i think that's why everything he does feels so drastic and out of left field. it's cause his perception of reality is like incredibly distorted and he's been trapped in this volo-giratina-togekiss echo chamber to the point where he thinks this is a normal thing for people to want. nice going dude!

[rubykgrant]

Hey, it’s my RVB OC, Poppy!

I split the character chart into sections to make it a little easier to look at, but also included the full version as one piece.

Some info about her that doesn’t fit in the chart, and how she fits into the RVB nonsense; Poppy’s got a bit of a “cheerfully dismissive” attitude when she’s not in a mood to deal with somebody, and that can change depending on how she’s treated. At her best, Poppy can be very patient and understanding. She likes making people laugh, and when she’s really close to them, she tries to be a source of comfort. She’s got a temper brewing under there, though (she can shout and rant with the best of them, but you really need to worry if she’s coming after you quietly). For the most part, Poppy is easy-going (because she’s been through a LOT, and knows what she’s capable of), and pretty quick with sarcastic little comments. She also feels her painful emotions VERY deeply, and freely cries or otherwise expresses why she is upset (not so much lashing out, just being honest). One of her skills is messing with audio communication, and her favorite trick is to play annoying songs as a distraction

Some of my favorite little quotes I have for her-

*being told to inspect a dangerous looking forest* “I’m not going in there! It looks like the Blair Witch is in there!”

*somebody giving her a harsh order* “Hey, why don’t you try asking that again, only this time you get that tone out of your mouth when you talk to me?” (said cheerfully while still being INTENSE and threatening)

She was assigned to be the go-between for two groups of Flag Zealots (Ted, Fred, Jed and Lou, Drew, Hue). In general, her job was supposed to be ordering supplies and ammunition, but the entire area got ignored after a while (crazy Freelancer stuff was happening elsewhere, plus Blood Gulch shenanigans). Eventually, Poppy started just gave the guys water balloons so they could keep fighting, but everything had become less intense. Also, everybody liked Poppy a lot, and they didn’t want to accidentally hurt her in the crossfire. However, she DID get injured rescuing a couple of them when a forgotten land-mine went off. While Poppy was unconscious and recovering, her Reds and Blues were visited by some... unpleasant people. When Poppy woke up, they were gone. She also had to fix herself up a bit with a prosthetic arm.

She kinda bops around on her own for a while, trying to stay under the radar (because she sure don’t trust most of the organizations that try to be in charge). Down the road, after stuff with Temple’s group happened, the UNSC is trying to round up “former Flag Zealots”, which includes Poppy by association. They have the great idea to try and re-focus all that fanatic energy into being good soldiers (spoiler alert; this SUCKS). She’s none too thrilled about going through basic training AGAIN, especially knowing how manipulative all this BS is. The man put in charge of training the left-over zealots and new recruits is none other that Sarge. He happens to be missing his Red Boys right about now (and heck, he even misses the Blues), and Poppy’s lack of respect for authority reminds him that his favorite thing about his team is... they weren’t “perfect soldiers”. In fact, Papa Warcrimes starts realizing he doesn’t care much for the military anymore (a sign of the apocalypse!)

Poppy gets introduced to the rest of the group through Sarge; he hasn’t really had a “new friend” like some of the others get occasionally, so I had fun with the idea that he just decides to adopt a little smart-mouth. Obviously, she resembles Simmons in certain regards, while also being his opposite (he’s a people-pleaser, and she’s a rebel... though not as obnoxious as Grif) and being close to Sarge sets her up to be simply DESPISED by the dude... but then he has an actual conversation with her, and before he can be properly ticked-off, he just kinda goes “Oh, sibling?”. It’s just really funny to me that they COULD have a whole bitter rivalry going, but instead they click, and Simmons gets a “new friend” too! It is double-ironic because... one of the unpleasant people who hurt Poppy’s group of Reds and Blues is significantly similar to Simmons (oh boy! ANGST!). While she almost begins just as a side-character there to play off the others, this is intentional to make it more surprising when she is revealed to be important and stuff. She also gets to finally be herself with these people (at first, she’s hesitant to let herself be part of this new group, because they remind her of her own Reds and Blues, but she also knows that they all have a history that doesn’t include her... so, as time goes on, she accidentally finds a bond with each of them). Her armor color would be white... which means the prophecy is complete! Red Team Lesbian Flag!

[fernpost]

looking forwards

[link to ao3]

Angus McDonald, boy detective. Greatest detective, if you asked him. And if you asked most of his clients.

He could solve any case, any mystery or murder or missing persons case. He’s always able to find the truth.

He just struggles sometimes, when it comes to himself.

His own emotions are swirling masses of weird bubbly feelings . He does not like how hard it is to decipher his own feelings.

Deciphering people's feelings about him is often just as hard. He knows social cues. He’s studied them thoroughly, and knows why people say what when he’s asking them certain questions and what they’re hiding when they ask him to leave.

Working a case is easy.

He’s solved plenty of murders before. Those are easy. Child’s play! And Angus is not a child anymore. He’s twelve whole years old, and had the first birthday party he’s ever really enjoyed to celebrate with all his friends.

Sure, most of them were adults, but he’s always gotten along really well with adults.

And they’re his family, so it’s fine-

Well. They’re not really his family. He’s not blood related to them. He’s not sure he has any immediate family now that his grandpa is gone. He’s never asked Taako or Magnus or Merle of Kravitz or Killian or- or any of them if they consider him family.

They’re his friends. That’s fine. He’s perfectly content with that (he thinks. Again, his own emotions are confusing).

But that’s okay. Because he’s going to school soon. It’s kind of far away from where most of them live, though. Far from the home Taako, Lup, Barry, and Kravitz have been sharing. Where Angus has been staying.

Very far from where Magnus has been setting up his school. And a whole day's ride away from Killian and Carey’s home.

The school is three hours away from Angus’s ho- from Taako’s house, where Angus is staying.

He hasn't- he hasn’t told Taako he’s going to school yet. He doesn’t know how to tell him he’s going to need to move out because obviously he would never ask Taako to uproot his whole life- all of them to uproot their lives just for Angus to be able to attend school. Not when they finally got settled down.

He really doesn’t even need school, but when his parents passed away and he went to live with his grandpa he dropped out. And if he wants to go on to college (if Lucas is serious about the potential teaching job) he needs to at least graduate high school. He was almost done too, but his grandpa didn’t have a lot of money like his parents did, so he started solving more and more cases to help out.

His parents didn’t give his grandpa any of their money because they didn’t expect him to be around when they passed on- not that they were bad people! He doesn’t mean to make them sound bad. They weren’t bad. They weren’t the best, he guesses. They’re not as fun as Taako, or as warm as Lup, and didn’t give as many hugs and Magnus, and didn’t talk to him about science like Barry, or-

But they were nice. They just weren’t really into parenting. They still left their small fortune to him, he’s just not old enough for it.

He’s thinking of petitioning the banks and saying he’s perfectly independent to get the money so he can move out easier.

He wonders if Kravitz would help, because he’s really good at that type of stuff, and the bank workers would be much more likely to listen to an adult than him.

Being young had its perks when solving cases, but it sucked for his day-to-day life.

It also sucked when his stomach churned for no reason that he could deduce. He’s just sitting in the kitchen, watching Lup cook in her still-slightly-fresh body as she sings a funny folktale song (Barry is sitting next to him, and he’d leaned over when she’s started singing to tell him how she learned this song early on in a world that had no writing system, and the song was about a man who could never remember where he left his pants. Angus didn’t really get it, but Barry kept laughing and smiling like it was the funniest thing in the world. Angus was pretty sure Barry would laugh at anything Lup did as a joke, though. He didn’t need to be a great detective for that).

But despite how good the food smells, his stomach hurts really bad. He’s barely eaten today, so it can't be food poisoning. Not that he’s had that since moving in- the Taaco’s are wonderful cooks and he trusts anything they feed him implicitly.

He tunes out Lup as he thinks.

The stomach pains are probably anxiety. Kravitz was telling him how he used to get them all the time, so it’s possible it’s just that.

But he shouldn’t be anxious . He’s a big kid- he’s just waiting for Taako to get home so he can tell him he’s moving out.

He has already looked for an apartment. Once Lucas' Academy of Arcane Sciences is fully up and running, he should have a highschool diploma and will be able to move on campus to work on his own degree. And be a student teacher while he works on it. It’s very exciting! If he should be feeling any physical effects from his emotions, it should be excitement, not this. This gross conglomerate of mushy feelings he can’t piece together.

He hates this.

Lup is holding a spoon to him, and Angus snaps back to the present to hear her softly ask, “you okay, little dude?” He doesn’t like the look of concern on her face- she’s been through too much to have to worry herself with him (he can’t get the century out of his head, these people are so amazing and they just let him hang around them. He doesn’t know what he’s doing right and he’s scared he’s going to stop doing that and they’re not going to like him anymore).

“I’m fine, Miss Lup! Thank you for asking.” He folds his hands tighter in his lap as he smiles. Whatever is on the spoon smells great, but he’s not sure his stomach is up for it yet.

Lup continues to stare at him for another second before pushing the spoon a little closer, “if you say so. Now, tell me, how’s it taste?”

Angus shakes his head and pulls back, “my stomach isn’t feeling too good right now, I don’t want to infect the rest of the food if it’s contagious.”

A hand appears on his head and he jumps a little, still not used to the casual touch-language of the household, and Barry’s nasally voice joins the conversation. “You don’t feel hot. Want us to call Merle over and give you a check up?”

The spoon is back, “it’s a good soup, Ango. It shouldn’t upset your stomach, and I can just get a new spoon. Barry can call Merle while you give me pointers.”

“You don’t need to, it’s fine really.” He waves his hands at Barry before turning to Lup. “And I’m not sure what help I can be with the cooking, I haven’t improved much these past few months even with Taako walking me through those other recipes.”

Lup snorts, “you’re improving much faster than Barry ever did. And I haven’t been helping Kravitz much with it, but he’s worse than anyone I’ve ever met at cooking. You’re doing just fine.”

Angus straightens up, discomfort momentarily disregarded, “Mr. Kravitz hasn’t needed to eat or cook in a long time, so he’s forgotten a lot of the basics so it’s not fair to judge me against him.”

“Sure, sure.” Lup waves her free hand in the air, the other still holding the spoon. “Still, this spoon is staying in the air until you taste it.” She glances at Barry, “and don’t worry about bothering Merle, he’ll never admit it but he likes the excuse to come over. Barry will pick him up; gives him more practice on perfecting the portal spell.”

Angus frowns, but reaches out to take the spoon anyways, “you really don’t need to call him. I’m sure it’ll pass by tomorrow.”

A hand is now on his shoulder, and Angus glances over to make eye contact with Barry, who speaks. “I won’t call him tonight, but if you still feel bad tomorrow we’ll tell him, okay?”

“Okay.” He’s not going to tell him if his stomach still hurts tomorrow, because it shouldn’t. Because he’s going to tell Taako right when he gets home and there will be nothing making him anxious or sad or excited or whatever that will make his stomach hurt. Because he’s going to do it.

He punctuates the thought by sticking the spoon in his mouth. Lup has turned back around, a fresh spoon stirring the pot, so she doesn’t see Angus’s eyes widen, but she turns back to face him with a smile when he gasps.

“This is really good, Miss Lup! Thank you.”

“Anything missing from it?” She crosses her arms, a new spoon dangling from her fingers as she twirls it around. It feels like a test, and the stomach ache is back.

Maybe it is from anxiety, because he used to get them before really hard tests. But why is he anxious? Taako is most likely going to take the news well, because Angus will finally be out of his hair.

(But maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe Taako being okay with him moving out would hurt. Maybe the thought of Taako not just being okay, but being excited at the thought of him moving out is making him sick with worry and sadness and-)

“I’m not sure what else. It tastes perfect as-is.” He can’t think about cooking anymore. “I’m going to read on the couch, if that’s alright.”

The twirling of the spoon pauses, before she gives him a smile he knows is a bit forced, “okay, but when Taako comes home complaining that something is missing from the soup we’re blaming Barry.”

“Hey!”

Angus slides from the stool, moving to the sink and placing the spoon in there before heading to the couch. The living room is open to the kitchen and dining room, and he can hear Lup puttering around in there as she and Barry speak quietly to each other.

He’s unsure if they’re talking about him, or just being polite because he said he was reading, but his stomach twists again anyways. He picks up his book from where he set it on the coffee table this morning, and tries to read- he really does.

But he can’t focus.

The words blur together as he stares down at them blankly. He’s so zoned-out he misses the sound of the door opening, and the ensuing whispering in the kitchen.

It’s only when a hand is on his shoulder does he notice someone else is in the room, and he almost jumps out of his skin. Turning his head quickly, he catches sight of the gaudy sequin coat Taako had bought a few months ago. He’s paired it with a pair of jeans with tassels, and Angus doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s fairly sure that’s not a normal outfit combination.

“Lup said your stomach hurt? Did you eat the so-called muffins Barry made yesterday? Because I told him those were toxic for human consumption. Probably dwarven consumption as well.”

Angus shakes his head, eyes following Taako as he slips his coat off and throws it on the armchair. He’d taken one look at those burnt muffins and slid them behind the milk, hiding them to prevent anyone from eating them. The elf walks around the couch and sits on the opposite side as him, tucking his knees under him as he stares at him with those eyes that are far more observant than most people think.

“Uh-huh. I’m throwing them out anyway. Don’t want to risk it.”

Angus nods, fiddling with the pages of his book. He runs a finger down the edge, finding a temporary calm in the weird texture of the uneven edges. He’s wearing a crease into the sides, he knows, but that’s fine. His grandpa liked to talk about the beauty of a well-loved book.

He’d spent all night planning on what he was going to stay. He wants to make sure Taako knows he isn’t throwing his kindness back in his face, and that he is going to be able to do this mostly on his own. He doesn’t have many belongings, so the move itself would be pretty easy. There won’t be much for Taako to worry about. Angus has always been very self-reliant. He isn’t a pushover, and is fine taking care of himself. While living here has been nice, he’s fine going back to living like that.

A foot knocking against his knee gets his attention, and he glances over to Taako. The elf’s face is pinched, ears flicking back and forth.

It’s a weird expression to see directed at him. Taako speaks, “you with me, Agnes?”

He nods, eyes flitting away. The nickname is an endearment, something he figured out soon after he started living on the moonbase. Their story being projected into his mind only reinforced that knowledge; seeing how Taako interacted with the others (and how the others teased everyone as well) proves that Taako being mean normally shows he cares.

He states instead at the fireplace; it’s still kinda dirty because no one has wanted to clean it out from when Lup caused it to flare up during a particularly intense board game night (they banned board games when the fire was going after that, at least while Lup was in her lich form. Far too much magical energy waiting to be released).

“Angus. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

He doesn’t mean to flinch, but seeing a hand come towards his face after already being stressed all day caused him to react unfavorably.

The hand yanks itself away, and Angus forces himself to look over at Taako, apology already leaving. “Sorry, sir. I just didn’t expect it- I’m fine, really.” He almost says ‘I promise,’ but stops himself. He doesn’t like lying, and it wouldn’t have been a lie but it wouldn’t have been the full truth.

Taako doesn't seem to believe him anyways, as he squints at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Angus starts, “I’m not sick!”

“I know you’re not sick, but you’re acting all weird.” He wiggles his fingers, and it almost makes Angus laugh.

He takes a deep, steadying breath. It only makes his stomach clench even more. His face gets hot, and suddenly his throat is tight and he can’t- he can’t do it- he doesn’t want-

“I need to move out.” The words leave him at once, just barely slow enough to be comprehensible.

The soft conversation in the kitchen stops at once, though neither of them walk over to the couch. Taako is staring at him, face blank.

He finds himself beginning to ramble. He hates it, he’s normally more composed, but working a case is much, much easier than navigating people he cares about. “Mr. Miller offered me a position at his school once I graduate, and the school is on the other side of town. I can’t make the commute each day, it’s too far and the walk would be too much. So, I found a small place that’s cheap, and once I get access to my parents money they left me I’ll be fine on that front. And-”

“Miller? Lucas Miller?” Taako cuts him off. He hasn’t done that in a long while, and it shuts Angus up immediately.

“Yes? He’s opening his school, the Academy of Arcane Sciences.”

“And he wants you to teach there?”

Angus' face flushes, and he gets hot with indignation. “I’m very smart, sir. I am very qualified to teach, and it’s not a stretch that he would seek me out and-”

Taako puts his hands up. “Not what I was implying. You’re just young.” He glares off to the side, before pulling his crystal out. “Thought Miller was above hiring a child.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“How old are you, then?” Taako glances back over at him, eyebrows raised in that annoying way he gets when he thinks he’s made an excellent point. He’s typing without looking down, and Angus wants to know what he’s doing.

“I- that’s not what I meant.”

Taako leans back on the couch, looking back at his crystal. “You should be focused on being a kid, not teaching nerds at Lucas’s subpar school.”

The indignation that started when Taako brushed off what he’s been worrying about has been building and building. He clenches his hands into fists, letting the book drop to the floor as he stands and yells, “stop trying to make me have the childhood you wanted!”

He regrets it immediately, but can’t bring himself to look at Taako. The room is so, so quiet. It’s almost worse than if they yelled at him. He runs past the couch, dodging the hand that reaches out as he passes by Taako. He slips into the room he’s been staying in, closing the door and locking it behind him. He sits on the floor, back resting against his bed, and shoves his face into his knees, pulling them tightly into himself.

At least he made it easy, right? He’ll wait for Taako to cool down, finish packing his things, and leave.

He doesn’t even know why he said that. He knows Taako was just being nice, even if he phrased it poorly. He just wants him to be a kid because he knows what it’s like to not have a childhood. Angus had no reason to say that. He didn’t mean it.

The hot press of tears builds in his eyes and he forces them down. He has no right to cry when he was the one in the wrong.

Knowing Taako, Lup, and Barry are in there, talking about him, is almost as bad as the guilt. Not knowing what they’re saying is disquieting.

It doesn’t take long for a soft knocking on his door to fill the room. He says nothing, but looks up at it. He stares at the handle, checking it’s still locked.

“Angus, it’s Lup. Can I come in?”

He considers not answering. They’ve been good about not barging in before, when he makes it clear he wants to be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone, though. He’s just not sure he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah.” He stands, unlocking the door and holding the handle. Breathes. Opens the door.

Ears tilted down low, Lup stands there with hands in a neutral position at her side. Gods, she’s being so aware of her movements right now so she doesn’t startle him. He turns, walks over to his desk, and stands by it. He’s now very aware of his backpack and small suitcase against the wall, half-packed. Not enough to be obvious, but enough so that when he told them he was moving he could do so quickly.

Lup is staring at it. She hesitates, then goes to sit on his bed. She doesn’t shut the door all the way, leaving it just barely cracked.

He hates being treated like this.

“We’re not mad.” She begins, and Angus can’t bring himself to look at her as she talks, staring instead at his bags. “Taako isn’t mad either. We’re just confused as to why you want to move out.”

Angus furrows his brow, glancing over to Lup for a second before retraining his eyes on his bags, “I told T- I said that it was too far for me to walk there each day.”

“Me and Barry have basically mastered rifts, we could bring you there and back you know. So could Kravitz.”

“I already thought about asking you to, but you’re called to go help the Raven Queen randomly, and I wouldn’t want to be stuck on campus.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I didn’t phrase it very well out there.” He forces himself to make eye contact, “I am very grateful for everything you all have provided me, and I’m not leaving because I’m unhappy or anything. I just know I’ll be fine on my own, and I really want to go to school.”

Lup purses her mouth, “I’m not going to argue that you aren’t responsible or that you couldn’t live on your own. But you are young, there’s no reason you should be teaching at this age.”

“I’m not though! I’m finishing high school, and then student teaching until I graduate from his school. I’ll just be helping the professors until I have the proper qualifications.” He clenches his hands, trying to keep himself calm. He doesn’t like when people don’t understand what he’s saying.

She takes in what he says, keeping her gaze steady. “Okay. That’s better. But, you still shouldn’t be living on your own, little dude.”

“I used to-”

She holds her hand up, “come on, this is a group conversation. The other two people living here should be here for this.” Angus casts an anxious glance at the door when she says that. She continues on, “before we go out there, though, we do need to talk about what you said.”

Panic fizzles through him again. “I know! I didn’t mean it, and I’m really, really sorry. I just got frustrated because he was patronizing me and I don’t like being treated like that. I’m very smart and capable- I’ve done- I’m just-” He feels his emotions begin to well up again, and it only makes him more upset. He knows he’s more mature than this. He’s caught numerous serial killers, solved murder cases, and helped so many people. He can keep up with serious adult conversations, as well as banter with everyone easily. He’s good at words. He hates getting sensitive like this.

“Hey, hey. Angus, it’s okay. Breathe.” She steps towards him, moving slowly to not startle him and he hates how he’s already shown that she needs to do that. “Taako was being rude when you spoke to him, no one is denying that. But what you said at the end was also pretty rude. And we understand needing to take a minute to ourselves, but we have to make sure we have hard conversations. You’re telling us you don’t want us to treat you like a child, and we are not going to baby you. But you are still very young, especially compared to us.” She closes the gap to him and rests a hand on his shoulder, kneeling down. “Being mature means hard conversations. Being nice means having harder conversations. All we want from you, Angus, is for you to be honest with us and listen to us when we want to be honest with you.” She removes her hand from his shoulder and spreads her arms wide, offering a hug.

If he says no, she won’t make a fuss. He knows this.

He crashes into her, smushing her face into her shoulder. Her arms tighten around him as she runs her hand through his hair. “Here’s the plan. We go out there, Taako apologizes to you for being an asshole, you apologize for snapping, and then we all talk about you moving out, okay?”

Pulling his head away from her shoulder, he nods. He knows if he tried to speak, he would devolve into tears. She smiles and pulls him back into the hug.

They stay there for another moment, before Angus pulls away. Lup stands and gestures for him to lead the way.

His stomach clenches again, but some it’s not as intense as it was a few minutes ago.

They walk down the short hallway, and find Taako and Barry sitting on the couch. Both are staring at them as they enter the room, and Angus finds his hands twisting into the hem of his shirt.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sir. I’m sorry.” Angus says it fast. He hopes it doesn’t sound dishonest, the way it tumbled out of his mouth, but he knows if he slowed down the tears would fall too and he doesn’t want that.

Taako moves to stand, but Angus watches as Barry’s hold on his hand keeps him on the couch. Taako, instead smiles. “It’s okay, Ango. I was being an ass first. Should have listened to you all the way instead of cutting you off. Taako’s better than that.”

Lup brushes past Angus, moving to sit on the armchair next to the couch. Angus stays where he is. “I am still moving, though.”

No one speaks for a moment, but all three of them look at each other. After a moment of silent conversation, the type born from living together for a long, long time, Taako speaks up. “Okay. We’ve been talking about getting a bigger house anyways. This one is too close to the city and when the others visit it’s far too crowded. We need more extra bedrooms.”

Angus blinks. Then blinks again. “What?”

Lup sighs. “That’s one way to bring it up. We’ve already been talking about it- there’s a chunk of land just outside of the east end of the city. It’s not far from the school we assume is the one you plan on attending. Magnus has already said he’ll help us fix up the house there.”

He is still wildly confused.

Barry gathers that, and he sighs, “we will all move. So you can be closer to your school.”

He starts shaking his head, “no, you guys just settled down, you don’t need to do that.”

“Do you really think you could make us do anything we don’t want to do?” Taako asks as he begins to walk over to Angus. He mimics the position Lup took earlier, squatting in front of him. “If you really don’t want to live with us, fine. But we had already been talking about getting a bigger place. This isn’t a sudden decision- if Krav wasn’t on some mission he could tell you the same thing. The house we were looking at was empty before the Hunger arrived, and it got fucked up even more during the fight, so the land there is cheap. So if you want to stay with us- and I’m not asking what you think we want, I’m asking what you want- then one of the rooms will be yours.”

The tears he’s been working so hard to hold back begin to fall, so he just nods quickly. He lets Taako pull him into a hug, “I’d- I like living with you. Are you- you sure?”

“When has Taako ever lied?”

Angus just laughs, and does so even harder when he hears a pillow thwack against the back of Taako’s head (it’s a common occurrence in this house).

He feels someone approach on the side, and their hug is yanked to the side, both of them stumbling as Lup pulls them towards her, and he glances up to see Barry hovers right beside them. Taako must see him too, “Come on, Barold. Looks like it’s hug time.”

It’s awkward, and not at all very comfortable, but it’s warm. Angus’s tears have dried up, and he’s about to pull away when the familiar zip of a portal being created precedes Kravitz’s voice.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

Taako laughs, “just missing out on a group hug.”

“Come on,” Lup speaks up now, her voice coming from just behind Angus’s ear, “it’s a family hug.”

Angus barely has time to process that when Kravitz steps forward. He’s almost as awkward as Barry, but it’s nice.

They separate eventually, Lup heads back to the kitchen to finish the food, with Barry close behind. Kravitz gives Taako a hello kiss, the two of them sitting on the couch, and from their low tones Angus can tell Taako is giving him a quick rundown of… today.

Angus see’s his book was placed on the coffee table at some point, and sits on the armchair once he grabs it, pushing Taako's discarded jacket to the side. Opening it to where he left off, the page is bent with a large crease down the center, from when he dropped it on the floor. He reads for a minute, before Taako speaks up.

“Mending should get rid of that crease, if you like.” Taako says.

Angus just smiles and shakes his head. “It just proves it’s used.”

He shrugs, looking down at his crystal, and Kravitz nudges him. It causes Taako to huff and hold out the crystal. A flyer for a recreational soccer team is displayed.

Join the new Neverwinter recreational soccer league! Ages 10-14. Help your kids make new memories and friends- Create everlasting bonds!

Angus frowns, “what’s this?”

“Soccer team. Was looking for one in the area when we started looking for potential houses to move to. Planned on signing you up.”

Tears begin to well up in his eyes again, and Angus finds himself frustrated. Not with Taako, no, of course not. Not now, not with this. But with himself, and how emotional he’s being.

Because he’s been talking about Caleb Cleveland books at Taako for so long now, and he’d always assumed he’d only been tolerating it. But Caleb Cleveland was a part of a soccer team- it wasn’t even a big part of the books. Angus has probably only mentioned it once or twice. And yet, Taako specifically looked for a soccer team and-

“Thank you, Taako!” He grins, and the way Taako’s ears are flickering, he knows he’s embarrassed.

“Just thought you could use the exercise. You know, you can’t be running around solving crimes if you can’t run.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he snarks back, “but sir, you never do physical training and you saved the world.”

“I just transmute my legs to be strong and fast if I need it. Or get Magnus to carry me.”

He leans further onto Kravitz, who smiles. “Or he just calls me to pick him up.”

“Exactly!”

Snuggling back into his chair, Angus holds the book close to his chest, “thank you, really, sir.”

“Come on, little dude. We’ve been over this. The ‘sir’ thing is so formal.”

“Would you prefer me to call you ‘sappy bitch’?” He turns up his fake innocent charm, the one he uses often on cases, as he says it.

Kravitz bursts out laughing, and he can hear Barry and Lup in the kitchen do the same.

Taako flares up, pointing an accusing finger at him, “who taught you that kind of fucking language!”

“I’ve always known curse words!”

“Not in my house!” Taako stands, and Angus climbs out of the chair and starts running. He knows what will happen if Taako catches him, so he runs to Barry, calling out for help.

Barry, the traitor, only holds him still so Taako can grab him and ruffle his hair. He begins yelling at Barry, cursing his name, but it’s hard to get the words out through his laughter.

Kravitz is the one who saves him, pulling him out of their arms and holding him high in the air. “Do not assault the child, please.”

Taako steps towards Kravitz, “you heard what he called me, didn’t you?”

“And he was right.”

Taako’s affronted gasp is so loud, it must scratch at his throat as he begins coughing.

Angus is giggling, kicking his dangling feet lightly in the air.

Whatever Lup is pulling off the stove smells delicious, and he cannot wait to begin eating.

As they sit down, Taako looks over at him and says, "you know, you should be careful about accepting a teaching job at Lucas's lame school. Taako here is working on a much cooler idea, and he could use a smart kid like you, if you can pass the rigorous application process."

"What is it?" Angus asks, getting excited. He hasn't heard Taako talking about anything like this.

"Top secret."

Angus laughs, "it won't be for long!"

"You're pre-emptively fired, then."

"Wait-"

[lumiereswig]

sorry if this is a bother but if you're still writing fics, could i please get uhhh fic with the 1991 characters but everyone's personalities are the stark opposite of their canon selves?

lmaoooo

so beast is this soft-spoken dude who looks less like a wildebeast and more like a sandhill crane, with soft gills sprouting from his neck and beautiful grasshopper antennae instead of horns. he is cursed NOT for being an insufferable little bitch but for instead being so OVERWHELMINGLY nice to the enchantress that, after offering her his home-made peanut butter casserole for the 17th time, she decides nobody could ever love this sad-sack kindly wimp until he grows a spine, and curses him to learn to be loved in his new weird, soft, slightly floppy form.

(the enchantress’s personality in this is less providence-sent moralizer of justice and more chaos-drenched humbug with a gift for thinking up the exact wrong way of teaching any lesson.) 

belle, meanwhile, is busy going on a fuckin rager because in this timeline she’s impatient, impetuous, extroverted, and going fuckin insane in this bewilderingly boring little town. oh yeah, she’s still intelligent, but this belle flies off the fucking handle if she has to deal with these dick-brained villagers one more time, GOD the way they’re so pompous and cosmopolitan, ughhh if she hears the baker quote ‘hamilton’ in that pseudo-smart way he’s so fuckin fond of she’s going to take a flame-thrower to everyone and everything in this town

oh yeah. in this version she’s not much of a reader. what she IS fond of is pyrotechnics and anything that explodes

maurice is a v boring accountant who sticks to the straight and narrow and is thus VERY alarmed when on his way to his annual Accountants Of Extreme Boringness conference he ends up in an enchanted castle. he is further alarmed when he is immediately snogged by an impetuous, flirtatious, devil-may-care son of a bitch baroque clock

the clock is pulled off him by an uptight, nerves-wrecked candle who looks like he’s melted at least four inches just trying to keep up with his clock husband. the thing about clocks, he anxiously explains, is they’re sort of ticking time bombs when it comes to pulling off shenanigans

‘don’t have a meltdown,’ scolds the clock, and promptly leads the candle in a high-stakes round of erotic tango

maurice passes out immediately and no one can blame him.

belle, having busied herself all morning seeing if she can blow up the backyard fence more effectively with nitroglycerin or dynamite, notices her father has gone AWOL and hasn’t yet brought back the one thing she always asks for when he goes on trips, i.e., high-octane gunpowder. she high-hoes off on her horse, and ends up at the castle, where she kicks down the door and is alarmed to see her father being served jellied crumpets by some kind of long-necked heron wearing a cravat.

the beast is QUITE willing they should all leave immediately but only if he can give them a pan of scotcharoos before they go, and can he get them anything nice to wear, it’s kinda cold out there are they sure they’re gonna make it? after the 50th offer of being allowed to spend the night belle is like. FINE. FINE. FINE I’LL FUCKING STAY, YOU FUCKING GENEROUS PILLOCK. CAN MY FATHER GO HOME AT LEAST

uh sure ok! says the beast. he’s just excited that belle might want to do a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle with him and maybe they can make popcorn

belle is quickly introduced to the whole staff, which includes a crotchety bottle of Scotch whisky named Mrs Potts, her shy shot-glass son, a quiet bookworm closet, and a hatstand that will not shut up. she tries to meet the clock and candle but the clock is very invested in broadway-style show numbers and performs an entire song with a kickline backup of tapdancing pocket watches

lumiere frantically insists to belle that she must forgive this ridiculous intrusion, the english are just like that, you know. he loses his train of thought when a pretty young feather duster comes into the room and doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night

belle and beast spend their days with belle constantly trying to leave and the beast managing to get her to stay just by being so blindly, consistently kind with her. belle finds that ....she kinda likes it. it’s nice to have someone to feel at home with. one time she really does try to leave and gets as far as the woods, but then the beast follows her and passes out when he sees a particularly frightening tree. she finds herself loving his S O F T N E S S

i should probably write gaston into this but frankly i can’t be bothered. somethin bad happens (the villagers storm the castle because they think a performance of ‘hamilton’ is happening there?), belle accidentally blows the entire thing up, the beast thinks that’s frankly the coolest shit he’s ever seen, and belle happily marries her weird crane-man and fuck the curse, the enchantress has forgotten all about it and nobody really minds it anyway. it’s kinda cool being a candelabra, right? especially when that rococo clock keeps slipping you kisses behind the ballroom curtains

[peggyrose19]

What Happens in Vegas Doesn’t Always Stay There

i was gonna do homework but i got inspired and wrote this instead. i also took a 90 minute nap at 6pm so now i’m bouncing off the walls and can’t actually make myself focus for longer than 30 seconds.....what was i saying? anyways this really got away from me wow. i have no regrets.

characters by @lumosinlove​

@im-oknutzy-trash, @wonder-womans-ex

cw: mentions of characters being drunk, swearing, idiot gays

Alex wasn’t sure how on earth they’d gotten on the topic of marriage. But conversations were always chaotic between the three of them so really he shouldn’t have been so surprised. Besides, if he was being honest with himself, he’d been thinking about it far more than he cared to admit.

He enjoyed the idea, the three of them being married. Making the commitment to each other. It wasn’t legal, but that didn’t matter. They could still be married in spirit. Maybe one day it would even happen.

“Y’know, Alex and I are married,” Kasey said casually, raising the bottle to his lips. Natalie gaped at him.

“You what?”

Alex laughed. “I forgot about that.”

Natalie glanced between the two of them quickly. “Please explain.”

With a laugh, Alex just shook his head. “We were playing Vegas in 2015, right after they legalized gay marriage, right? Both of us got shit-faced drunk and, in our drunken state, decided that getting married was an obviously very sound plan.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, after we had sobered up, we had kind of....forgotten it happened.”

“Then a few days later I was going through some pictures on my phone for whatever reason, and found one from that night, of the two of us holding a marriage certificate. Alex found it in his suitcase when we got home.”

Alex and Kasey both watched Natalie expectantly. For a long moment, she just stared at them in disbelief, mouth open almost comically wide. Then she burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” she cackled. “I cannot believe you two.”

Kasey shrugged. “We never got around to getting it annulled. I suppose neither of us particularly wanted to. We could now, I guess. If you wanted us to.”

Nat’s laughter faded. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what about you?” Alex asked before Kasey could, as synced with him as he always had been.

“What about me? I don’t need a piece of paper to say I’m in love with you two, not to mention it’s impossible anyways. One day we can have a ceremony with our family and friends and it’ll be dramatic and over-the-top, but for right now? I don’t need anything else.”

Alex very nearly melted at that. He glanced over at Kasey, unreadable to most everyone else, who was smiling that half smile Alex loved so much.

“You wanna get married someday?” he asked quietly.

“Hell yeah, I do.”

~

Alex had never spent a whole lot of time with Sirius Black. He was a bit of an enigma to him, someone so well-known in the media but so secretive in real life. These days, everyone knew Sirius as the first gay NHL player, and the first player to be married to his own teammate. Alex had gotten to know him as Kasey’s teammate, as a good player and captain. So when he found himself beside Sirius and Remus in a crowded bar, he wasn’t entirely sure what to say to the two of them. He could have gone and joined Kasey and Natalie, somewhere on the dance floor together, but he had never been one for public dancing.

“So. How does it feel to be married?” he asked the pair, who immediately glanced at each other and grinned sappily.

“Really good, man,” Sirius replied, not-so-subtly grabbing Remus’ hand. Alex smiled at the gesture. “And being on the same team is great, I mean we get to see each other so much more now.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Alex replied unthinkingly, remembering playing with Kasey even before they were together and relishing in the closeness it brought, the long hours they spent together both on and off the ice. He’d missed having that recently.

“What?”

Alex burst out laughing before he could stop himself, receiving a confused look from Remus and a glare from Sirius.

“You good?” Remus asked warily.

“Fine, fine.”

“What d’you mean ‘it’s cool’?” Sirius asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Ah jeez.” Alex shook his head at himself. “Well, might as well get this over with.”

“Get what over with? Alex what the hell are you talking about?” Sirius looked bewildered, watching him with equal parts suspicion and confusion. Remus too was frowning, but there was a knowing look in his eye, as if he was starting to catch on.

He sighed heavily. “It’s possible Kasey and I got married like, six years ago.”

“What.”

“Yeah. Back when we were on the Rangers together, we were playing Vegas when gay marriage was legalized. And the two of us got shit-faced drunk and decided getting married was a good idea. Then we promptly forgot about it in the morning and once we finally remembered, never actually bothered to annul it. So. We’re still married. Technically. According to the state of Nevada.”

Sirius and Remus both stared at him, expressions strikingly similar to Natalie’s. Alex eyed them warily, unsure what was going to happen now.

“You mean we’re not the first NHL players to marry each other?” Sirius asked, and he seemed so genuinely disappointed Alex had to fight back a laugh.

“Uh, I guess not?”

“Merde,” Sirius swore. Remus just looked at him.

“Does that really matter?” he asked amusedly.

“Of course it matters! We’re the first, Remus! This is a very important development.”

“Okay,” Remus laughed, nodding along. “Whatever you say.”

Sirius just grumbled under his breath.

~

“Hey Harz, how attached are you to your brother exactly?” Sirius asked at practice the next day, and Kasey glanced over at him. Alex had filled him and Natalie on their conversation the night before, and Sirius’ newfound knowledge was not likely to lead to anything good.

Finn frowned. “He’s alright. Why, what’d he do?“

“Got married, the little fucker.”

Finn dropped the jersey he’d been holding. “What, he’s married? Since when?!”

“Did Nat finally propose?” James piped up.

“He’s not married to Nat,” Sirius said.

If possible, Finn looked even more confused. “He’s not married to Nat?”

“No he’s fucking married to Winters.”

Finn just gaped at Sirius. James looked positively delighted. “What- our Winter?” he asked. “Like, Kasey Winters... the Lions goalie?”

“Standing right here,” Kasey added. He fought a smile.

Finn glared at him. “Explain yourself right now.”

Kasey squirmed a little under the sudden attention, but he couldn’t fight a laugh. Of course this was how they were all going to find out.

He sighed. “Long story short, Alex and I got ridiculously drunk one night in Vegas and decided to get married for shits and giggles, and then we never did anything about it.”

“What the fuck.” Finn was the first to break the silence. “What the fuck what the fuck.” He grabbed his phone from his stall and opened it, aggressively tapping at the screen. “Alex!” he very nearly shouted into his phone. Kasey could hear his bright laughter through the phone. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t bug him, Finn,” Kasey tried, but the red-head would hear nothing of it.

“Alex O’Hara, you get your ass down here now,” Finn demanded into the phone, and then promptly hung up. Kasey just shook his head and went back to getting dressed. A few moments later, the locker room door squeaked open and Alex stood before the team, wearing his Winters jersey and fighting a smirk.

“Something wrong Finn?” he asked with feigned innocence.

“Yes, you little shit. Sirius said you’re married? To Kasey?”

Alex’s eyes danced. “It’s possible.”

Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”

“Finn how the fuck do you propose I do that?”

He jerked his head towards Kasey. “Kiss him.”

Alex frowned. “Dude, we’re literally together, you know this.”

But Finn’s jaw was set stubbornly, and Kasey knew that look never meant anything good. So Alex sighed good-naturedly and crossed the room to Kasey, stopping in front of him.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, meant only for Kasey’s ears. He nodded minutely.

Alex smiled softly, then leaned forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss, one hand coming to rest on the small of Kasey’s back, the other cupping his cheek. After a moment he pulled away and looked expectantly back at Finn, staring at the two of them with a mixture of shock and approval.

“Satisfied?” Alex asked smugly, staying tucked against Kasey’s side. Kasey would never admit it, and certainly not in front of the team, but he rather enjoyed having Alex here, feeling his warmth even through the pads, knowing he’d later be watching the game and cheering him on.

“Fine,” Finn grumbled. “But I still can’t believe you kept that a secret.”

Conflicting emotions crossed Alex’s face, there and then gone, invisible unless one knew to look. Kasey knew the unintentional pain Finn’s words had on his brother, and knew Alex was far too polite to get into it with Finn right then.

“Talk to him later, baby,” Kasey whispered to Alex, hiding it by pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

Alex nodded, hiding the pain with a good-natured smile. But he stayed pressed against Kasey, and that told him all he needed to know.

~

“Hey Finn!” Alex called out, jogging down the hallway to catch his brother, leaving with Leo and Logan.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked distractedly, still glancing down at his phone.

“I need to borrow you for a moment.” Finn looked up at him, eyes narrowing, before murmuring something to his boys. They both nodded and kissed him before continuing on towards the exit.

“What’s up?” Finn asked, clicking his phone off and sliding it into his pocket.

“I um...” Alex trailed off, finding himself suddenly without words, despite thinking over what he wanted to say earlier. “Just wanted to talk.”

“If this is about before, you don’t have to worry about it,” Finn interrupted gently before Alex could continue. “It’s okay. I get why you kept it a secret.”

Alex released a breath and stared at his little brother. He felt like he was just now seeing him for the first time, and seeing the man he had become in the past few years. He’d never noticed before, the understanding and kindness behind Finn’s lighthearted gaze.

“How did you know?”

Finn shrugged. “You’re easy to read.”

~

When Alex got home, he found Natalie watching television on the couch, Kasey seemingly asleep on her lap. She smiled when he appeared in the doorway, beckoning him over silently.

“You talk to Finn?” she asked silently as he slid in on her other side. She let him lean into her, tossing the blanket over him as well.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Alex shrugged. “He was... surprisingly understanding about the whole thing. I didn’t even have to say anything. He just seemed to know.”

“Yeah, he’s like that sometimes,” Kasey mumbled, and Alex jumped a little.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Kasey didn’t bother sitting up, but he opened his eyes and looked blearily up at the two of them.

“Yeah. Was just resting.”

The three of them fell silent then, letting the comfortable silence settle over them.

“Hey Nat?” Alex broke the silence after a while.

“What’s up?”

“Were you serious about the whole marriage thing? Do you really want to get married at some point? Like, not married married. But, you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” she replied sincerely. “Maybe not yet. I don’t think we’re ready for that yet. But at some point.”

“I’d really like that,” Kasey said quietly.

“Me too.”

She smiled. “We should go to Vegas. Bring the whole thing full circle, y’know?”

Kasey huffed a laugh, “Whatever you want.”

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: three

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, talk of sex, gets a little bit nsfw at the end (heavy kissing)

author’s note: I officially have an update schedule and final chapter count for this! It will update on tues/thurs at 6pm pdt, with a final chapter count of eight. I’m also planning on writing a few bonus chapters that are nsfw to add a bit to the story, but they won’t be a “necessary” read and will also be able to be read as one-shots. Thank you everyone for reading and for all of the support so far! 

After the disaster that was your phone call with Osamu (the audacity of Miya Atsumu), the rest of your day went smoothly. You met the rest of the players (you were thrilled to see Aran) and went home at the end of the day, feeling pretty good about your new job. If everything between you and Suna stayed a secret, then everything would be fine. 

Unfortunately, you forgot to account for the fact that you were surrounded by a bunch of men (boys, in your opinion) in their twenties, who thought more with a certain appendage on their lower halves than they did with their brains. This convenient fact was made apparent on Wednesday afternoon, during a routine stretching break. 

You were hovering around Atsumu, Aran, and Suna, working on Aran’s shoulder with one earbud in, humming along to some pop song with the other ear not-so-subtly listening in to the boys’ conversation. 

Suna sat his water bottle down and turned towards Aran. “Dude, I had the best and worst fucking night on Saturday. I told ‘Tsumu already, but d’ya wanna hear?”

You kept your head down, focusing on your task while praying that Aran would say no. Apparently, Atsumu had kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone but his twin brother, because Aran nodded his head. You internally cringed, sneaking a glance at Atsumu out of the corner of your eye. The smug bastard had a grin on his face and even had the nerve to look at you and fucking wink. He was lucky that you were already willing to keep this a secret at all costs, or else you would’ve slapped that look off of his face. 

“Alright, so I went out Saturday night to get drunk before practices started, and I met this sexy chick at the bar. I don’t remember much, ‘cause I was fucking wasted, but I took her back to my place.”

Aran held his fist up for a fist bump. “Score, dude!”

Suna rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too. Except I woke up the next morning, and she was gone. Left her bra and skirt at my place, but get this, she stole my fucking National Team jersey!”

Atsumu was uncharacteristically quiet, but Aran filled the silence with a “Damn, bro.” You winced at Suna’s storytelling, yet internally thanked the universe that he didn’t remember that it was you.

“Yeah, the managers are gonna kill me when I ask for a new one. It’s all good though, ‘cause I’m pretty sure the sex was fucking amazing.”

You couldn’t help the choking sound that left your throat and the coughing that followed. Suna handed you his water bottle as you sat down, a concerned look on his face. Meanwhile, Atsumu was fucking laughing. You greedily drank from the bottle, shooting Atsumu a glare. 

After thanking Suna and handing the bottle back, you walked over to the bench to prepare for the second half of afternoon practice. You did not want to stick around them for any longer and listen to any more of Suna’s narrative. 

A large arm slung itself across your shoulders, and you threw an elbow back without looking. Atsumu clutched his ribs and winced as you turned around, seething.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Miya Atsumu. First you wink, then you laugh?”

He stood back up, grinning. “It’s not my fault that it’s so funny.”

“Miya Atsumu! My failure of a love life is not funny.”

“So you admit that he’s a part of your love life?”

“Shut the fuck up, Miya.”

---

Luckily, there was no repeat of the events that occurred Wednesday, at least that you heard. You steadily avoided Suna, not wanting to hear him talk about the “hot chick that stole his jersey” again. Your avoidance plan worked fine, until he began seeking you out. He started stopping by your office when you weren’t there. Iwaizumi always relayed the message to you when you passed him, mentioning the “tall middle blocker that keeps looking for you”. It wasn’t until Friday, when Suna somehow injured his ankle, that you had a moment alone with him. As you worked on wrapping his ankle up, he surveyed your office.

“I’m surprised you still have any photos with me.”

His words made you pause your work, following his eyes to the framed photo on your desk. It was a photo of you, Suna, Aran, and the twins, taken just a week before you left with no warning. “Why?”

“Well I know we didn’t end things on the best of terms. I thought you would’ve destroyed anything to do with me by now.”

You hummed thoughtfully and resumed your work. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He looked at you quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m an athletic trainer for a volleyball team because of you, Suna.” You watched his knitted brows. “When I fell in love with you, I also fell in love with volleyball. It was the only piece of our relationship I allowed myself to keep when I left.”

He looked at you as if he was seeing you for the first time. “I never realized.”

“That was my intention.”

He sat back once again and allowed you to finish the wrap. “All done. You know the treatment plan; be careful, ice it, rest often. Let me know if it keeps bothering you.”

Suna stood up, testing the wrap. “Thank you, y/n. It feels better already.”

You gave him a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Suna.”

He walked towards the door, but stopped before opening it. “You know, I was serious about my offer the other day,” he turned to face you, “If you’re free tonight, we should grab drinks.”

You carefully considered his offer. You did miss having Suna around, and it couldn’t hurt to reconnect. There didn’t have to be anything romantic about it, you could just get a friend back. On the other hand, the last time you drank with Suna, you ended up in his bed. However, if you exercised a little self-control, you were sure it would be fine.

“I’m free tonight.”

He smiled. “Great. Send me your address, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

You watched the door shut behind him as he left. This was either going to be the best or worst decision you ever made. 

---

It was the worst decision. It was 7:30, and you still hadn’t figured out what to wear. What were you supposed to wear when you went to a bar with your ex-boyfriend turned (maybe?) friend, who you accidentally slept with last week? You texted Yachi, but you knew Friday nights were her date nights with her girlfriend, Kiyoko. Still, you prayed that she would answer and prayed even more that Kiyoko was with her. Kiyoko always knew what to wear. 

Your prayers were answered when you received a text approving an outfit you had sent only a few minutes ago. Thank God for Yachi and her friendship. You quickly redressed and finished your makeup before the doorbell rang. You threw on a pair of heels and opened the door to find Suna on the other side, a shy smile on his face. 

“Hey, y/n. You look really nice.”

You grinned at him as you shut your door and locked it. “You do too.” It wasn’t a lie; Suna looked amazing. You had forgotten how well he dressed, as you were always seeing him in practice clothes. He wore slim-fit gray jeans with a loose black button-up. You could see a gold chain peeking out from where the top was unbuttoned, and if you weren’t so dedicated to not sleeping with him again, you would have jumped him right there in the hallway. 

You walked side by side to the same bar you had met in last week (although you didn’t mention this), catching up with each other. He talked about his experience on his pro team and how he felt when he received the letter from the National Team, while you told him about your college experience and moving to Tokyo by yourself. It felt nice, normal even, to be able to simply talk with Suna. It was something neither of you were very good at when you were together, and it was refreshing to know that the two of you could simply chat with one another now. 

The two of you sat at the bar near the dance floor when you arrived. You sipped on a martini and listened to Suna talk about everything that you had missed in the eight years you had been apart. You had expected your conversations to be awkward, but they flowed naturally and never stopped. Before you knew it, you were on your fourth drink and all of your self-control had been thrown out the window.

“C’mon, Suna, I wanna dance.” You grabbed his wrist in an effort to pull him off of his barstool and onto the dance floor with you.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, y/n? You’ve had quite a bit to drink.”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Suna began to stand. “Okay, I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

You turned to look back up at him. “How could I regret any of this?”

He looked shocked at your words, but before he could formulate a response, you were pulling him to the center of the dance floor and reaching for a shot from one of the waitresses. 

“Drink with me, Sunarin!” You didn’t know what switch had flipped in your brain (yes you did, it was the alcohol), but suddenly, all you wanted was for Suna to get drunk and ignore the rest of the world with you. He obliged you and took a shot, not even grimacing at the taste of straight liquor. 

You began to jump around in time to the pulsing beat, Suna watching you, but not dancing. You allowed him to simply watch with dark eyes until you were both on your third shot, and then you had enough.

“Sunarin, I wanna dance with you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even sticking your bottom lip out for good measure. Drunk you had no shame, whatsoever. He seemed hesitant, but you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips, pushing your chest flush with his. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and played with the ends of his hair. 

“I missed you.” The words fell unbidden from your lips, and although there was some part of your brain that told you that you were making a big mistake, you ignored it and listened to your heart. “I really missed you, Sunarin.”

You looked up at Suna through your eyelashes and felt his breath catch. “You don’t call me Rintarou anymore.” His eyes were filled with longing and sadness, and you looked away so that you wouldn’t drown in them. 

“Formalities, I guess.” The emotion in his eyes disappeared and he hummed, grabbing both of you another shot. After setting the glasses down, his hands found their way back to your hips. You didn’t want his eyes to look blank like this, but you didn’t like the sadness either. You wanted Suna to be happy, you wanted him to want you. So you threw all caution to the wind.

You pulled his head down towards you until your lips were only centimeters apart and whispered to him.

“I want you, Rintarou.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a scorching kiss while pulling your hips closer. You grinded on him to the beat of the song while trying to keep up with his passionate kisses. It was a mix of tongue and teeth, full of enough longing to make up for the eight years you had been separated. 

He began to kiss down your neck, pausing long enough at your ear to whisper a proposition.

“D’ya wanna go back to my place?”

You considered it for a millisecond. You knew, in the back of your mind, that this was exactly what you were scared was going to happen. You also knew that you wanted this more than anything else. 

You nodded your head, and Suna entwined his hand with yours and pulled you out onto the streets of Tokyo.

taglist: @sunasexual @call-me-lulu @ntimacy @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro

[gentrychild]

Why does AFO raise Tomura to be his successor if he doesn't need a successor? I would like you to explain it in more detail.

Raise is far too much honor for what AFO did to Tomura. I prefer to think that he trained him like an attack dog. One you’re not too fond of.

For proof, may I show you Shigaraki’s room before he decided to kill someone for the first time after what happened to his family?

Ignore the screaming toddler and the adult showing outstanding parenting skills as he is just watching him roll around and take a look at the empty shelves above the bed, please. By this time, it had been years since Tenko had arrived.

Ignore the fact that the old doctor is the one carrying the piece of furniture when AFO with his dozens of strength quirks is just watching him work and take a look at the desk and how there is nothing on it.

Guess how Tomura’s room looks immediately after he killed those two dudes in chapter 237.

I know it’s hard to focus when you have a child covered in hands right in front of you but that looks like brand new toys, a computer and books.

Positive reinforcements at its finest.

That’s not how you raise a successor. Shigaraki wasn’t raised. He was kept in a constant state of mental imbalance. Despite being extremely smart, his maturity was stunted.

He wasn’t taught patience, strategy, or the inner working of AFO’s organization. For proof, as long as AFO and Kurogiri were gone, the League became homeless.

Now, I want you to remember the USJ. How Shigaraki was nothing more than a manchild. A terrifying manchild with a bioweapon, but still a manchild, who got angry when things didn’t go his way and had no patience.

Now, I want you to realize that the only reason why the USJ did so much damage was because All Might used all his time when he was supposed to teach a class, something no one could predict.

That means that if the plan hadn’t been derailed by All Might’s hero syndrome, Shigaraki and the rest of the League would have meet an All Might at full strength. 

Since he punched the noumu into the horizon despite being at its limits, I am pretty sure AFO didn’t expect much from the USJ attack, apart from Shigaraki being beaten to a pulp.

He even said so.

That’s it. That was the purpose of Shigaraki Tomura. A petty insult against Nana and a way to ruin All Might.

Now, to go back to All for One: he doesn’t need a successor.

All Might needs a successor because he is missing a stomach and isn’t immortal. The OFA line is founded on successors, people passing and taking the torch.

All for One is at the opposite end of the spectrum. As he is himself immortal, he does not need to pass on his legacy. He can keep carrying it himself. 

Yes, he is in a bad state at this point.

But let’s be serious: the Doctor is making monsters in a creepy basements, quirks are getting stronger, etc. It’s only a matter of time because he is completely healed.

So, let’s say there is a kid that you made sure to turn into a violent mess and who wants only one thing: to destroy. He is exactly what the hero society things villains are like: people who wants to use their quirks to destroy and do bad things, not actual people with goals and depths.

Wouldn’t he make a great patsy? He provokes chaos and you can go back to the shadows while the heroes are focused on him. Forgotten. Free to do whatever you want without any hero bothering you.

[everything-person]

Then Came You

A/N: This is my contribution to @cshistfic Historical Fic Event. This is my first time diving deep, just submerging myself into research to make sure I got my time period correct and I had a blast. Sometime I had too much fun and thankfully I had @spartanguard to push me off my high horse. Thank you @shireness-says for making this event and running it. Hopefully my entree is worthy enough. This fic is based in the 70’s and is inspired by Disney Pixar’s Cars. This may have up to 3 parts.

Summary: Rookie of the Year race car driver Killian Jones finds himself lost in a forgotten Storybrooke on his way to the finale race of the season. His world and perspective on what he wants gets turned upside down in the small town.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Where the fuck am I?

was Killian Jones, famous race car driver, first thought as he woke up. Well, first thought after he got over the throbbing pain in his skull. He sat up to see he was laying in a cot. Taking in his immediate surroundings, he realized he was behind bars. His head fell into his hands.

How did I get here?

He recalled being at Pocono in the Piston Cup series finale. He was named Rookie of the Year and was set up to be the first one to win. His only real competition was Ernest “the King'' Triton, Atlantica’s golden boy, who was planning on this being his last season, and Edward Teach, the King's tail biter. They weren’t expecting Killian to come out of nowhere and take the season by storm.

He was set to win it all, ahead by half a lap, checkered flag insight when a tire blew. He struggled but was able to keep control of his car. He could feel his competitors gaining on him as he lost speed. Such events caused a three-way tie, set to be settled in a week in Daytona.

He remembered the interviews asking about him driving without a crew chief; he always had an issue taking orders. The King came walking up to him.

“My man, you are one bad racer. You got more talent in that famous smile of yours than half these dudes got in their whole body but you’re stupid. Let me give you the lowdown: this ain’t a one-man show, young blood. You need to wise up, get yourself a good crew chief and a good team. You ain’t gonna win unless you got stellar people behind you doing their jobs so you can keep being the slammin’ driver you are.”

He thanked him for the advice before they were made to get on stage for the press. That's when Edward Teach decided to try to psyche him out.

“Listen space cadet, that was some fab drifting today. By me. He he he. First one at Daytona gets Atlantica all to themselves. Catch my drift?”

Then he went looking for his team, only to find out from Smee, his truck driver, that he had to make a personal appearance over at his sponsor's tent—Arendelle Chocolates, run by sisters Elsa and Anna Arendelle, most famous for the Apollo Bar.

“A taste that’s out of this world!”

He desperately wanted to get away from his sponsor. He didn’t care for sweets and frankly found most disgusting. He entered the tent to find the other reason he didn’t care for his current sponsor: children all running around with their grubby hands. The sight made him squirm, but Smee reminded him they gave him his big break and it was in his contract. With those inspiring words, he put on a smile, made his way to his sponsor sisters, said a few words that had the tent roaring in cheers before he said goodbye.

“Killian, that was stellar! We are so proud to call you our driver!”

“And we are looking forward to another fab year!”

“Don’t drive like my sister!”

“Yeah, don't drive like my sister!”

He and his crew got on the road not long after that. His crew were in the truck along with his car while he drove just behind them. While his crew pulled off to get some rest, he kept going to be the first at Daytona. But he kept nodding off and got lost.

He remembered pulling out his map to try and find out where he was. He tried to keep his car steady while trying to make out what his map said by moonlight, when he heard sirens. Looking up, he saw the lights of a town. Before he could think about pulling over the sirens were accompanied with sounds of loud popping. He assumed it was the officer firing at him. He tried to dodge the bullets but soon lost control of his car. He ran into quite a few things before gaining control again, only to get caught on something. He gunned it to get free, only to have his car spin out once he was. The last thing he remembered was something crashing into his driver side door effectively stopping his spin out and causing his head to slam into his window; then everything went black.

Groaning, he picked up his head taking another look around. He was on a cot, in a holding cell, in a dusty office. He was taking in the desks and filing cabinets, looking for signs of life, when he heard a voice.

“Well hi,” came an excited, high-pitched voice.

His head snapped back to one of the desks to see a boy he missed sitting just behind it.

“I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

Killians faced scrunched up, “What's going on? Why am I here?”

The boy laughed, “Like you don’t know. For being a spaz last night.”

“What's your name, lad?”

“Henry. What's your name?”

“You don’t know my name?” Killian asked, taken aback by the question.

“No; why should I know your name?”

“I’m Killian Jones.” He waited for the moptop boy to put the pieces together

“Killian Jones!” Henry shot up out of his seat as he exclaimed the name before falling back down. “Yeah, not ringing a bell.”

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, “Where am I?”

“Where are you? You’re in Storybrooke, the most rockin’ town on the Potomac River.”

Killian sighed, dropping his head, bringing his hand up rubbing at his forehead. “Great. Just great.”

“Well if you like this place, you should see the rest of the town.”

Killian picked up his head, looking at the brown-eyed boy and spied just behind him the keys to his cage. Focusing back on the boy, he smiled and stood up from his spot on the cot.

“You know, that's a brilliant idea. I’d love to see the rest of your town. If you just let me out of here, we could go cruisin’ the town.” Killian finished his thought as he came leaning against the bars.

“Golly! Really?” Henry sat up straighter with a bright smile that slowly turned into a smirk, “You think you can psyche me out. I’m ten, not stupid.”

“Henry!” a new voice shouted out.

In walked a man sporting a perm and mustache wearing a star at his hip.

“What have you been told about being in here with criminals?”

Henry sighed, “Not without supervision. But he was sleeping.”

The man crossed his arms, letting out a huff, “Well now he’s awake. Want to help me escort him to court?”

The next thing Killian knew, he was in chains and being placed in the back of a cop car. After a short ride, he was hauled out and guided into Town Hall where he was met with shouting and very angry townspeople. He was placed in a chair.

“Oi mate,” Killian looked up at the sheriff, “I gotta skitty. How long is this gonna take?”

The sheriff, Robin read his name tag, crossed his arms, “Do you have a lawyer?”

Killian scoffed, “Aye, but he's probably in Hawaii right now.”

“If the defendant doesn’t have representation, the court will assign one to him.” Robin turned to the crowd behind him bringing his fingers to his lips, letting out a shrieking whistle. “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

The room went silent.

“I’ll do it,” a familiar voice broke the silence.

Killian turned to see the boy from before trotting up to the gate. Robin quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? It's not hard.”

“Hmm, alright,” Robin agreed, letting the boy take the seat next to Killian.

Killian looked between the two before landing his gaze on the sheriff.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, our normal defense is at the vet after you clipped his dog last night,” Robin informed him before speaking to the room, “All rise! Honorable Judge Nolan presiding.”

Everyone stood as the sound of a door opening and closing was heard. Heavy footsteps rang out in the silence.

“I want to know who is responsible for wrecking my town. I want his ass on a silver platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, until the jail rots on top of him then I’ll put him in another jail and wait until that one rots. I—”

The man's rants came to a halt as he laid his eyes on the accused. “Get him out of here, sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom and out of my town. Case dismissed; charges dropped.”

Killian let out a breathy laugh, “Woah. You were a better lawyer than I thought, youngblood.”

“Sorry I’m late, Your Honor.”

Killian turned to see a stunning blonde woman come strutting in.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispered under his breath. He thought the sheriff must’ve found his agent's number and gave him a call. This must be who they sent from his attorney’s office.

As she was walking by, Killian spoke up, “Hello, love. Thank you for coming but we are all set. He’s dropped the charges.”

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes darting to the boy next to him. “What?”

“Aye, we got off lucky. Now all we have to do is speed on down to Florida.”

“Please.”

“I get that a lot. I create feelings in people they themselves don't understand.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well I’m gonna go talk to the judge.”

“Whatever you gotta do, love. Do be careful though. These cats are a bit feral.”

She pursed her lips, nodding before turning her attention to the smiling child next to him, “Hi, Henry.”

“Hello.”

Killian looked at the boy before looking back at the blonde, who had turned to the crowd behind him.

“Morning everyone,” she called out, receiving greetings in response. She turned, eyeing Killian as she did, before she walked up to the judges stand who was intensely looking at his papers.

“David, you're looking well. Your sideburns are—”

“Forget it, Emma. I already dismissed the case,” he said, not looking up at her.

“He endangered most of the town and destroyed half of it. You can’t just let him go.”

“We are better off with him gone.”

Emma huffed, “Alright; you asked for it.”

Emma turned and addressed the room, “I move for an appeal. Robin, if you will help me escort the accused to the Mayor.”

Robin assisted Killian out of the chair. They followed the woman down the hall and up the stairs. Killian would protest but the walk was giving him a great view of the blonde’s ass.

As they came to a door labeled Mayor, Robin leaned over and whispered to Killian, “May the mayor have mercy on your soul.”

Before Killian could question or even look at the man he was being ushered into a black and white room.

“Ms. Swan, why are you barging into my office?” A woman sitting behind the desk in the middle of the office asked, not bothering to look up at the intruders.

“Judge Nolan ruled to dismiss the charges against our drunk driver—”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Killian interrupted.

“And I moved for an appeal. I thought the sooner the better,” Emma continued.

The woman finally looked up to see Emma standing in front of her desk before her eyes darted to Sheriff Robin, and Judge Nolan standing just behind her with Killian standing in between them.

“What are the charges?”

“Reckless driving, reckless endangerment, trespassing, vandalism, and destruction of property.”

“Why did you dismiss the case?” The woman directed the question to Judge Nolan.

He stepped forward standing next to Emma. “Madame Mayor, what happened last night was a terrible occurrence but I believe the longer this man stays, the more trouble will come.”

“Based on what?”

“I know the kind of man he is. I can see it in his eyes. He’s the last thing this town needs.”

“We let this guy walk, it sends a message to every delinquent in town that you can do whatever you want. The town needs to be fixed—they need this,” Emma stated.

“I think the sheriff's station’s reputation will precede this incident. We are fine without him,” Judge Nolan responds.

The mayor turned to Emma. “What do you suggest the sentence should be if I agree to your appeal?”

“Make an example of him. Give him community service, make him fix everything he can that he broke. Whatever he can’t, fine him for; by the looks of his clothes, he can afford it.”

The mayor sat back looking between the man and woman in front of her.

“Sheriff,” she called, “What say you? Should I let this man go to avoid further disturbance, or have him fix the town?”

“Well, I think the town needs renovation more than it needs to avoid trouble. In fact, I think we could benefit from some,” Robin eloquently answered.

The mayor nodded, standing from her seat, “I’m inclined to agree. The accused is sentenced to community service until everything that was damaged from last night's events is fixed and a fine of six hundred dollars for reckless driving and endangerment.”

Killian’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. He went from walking away scot-free to becoming this town’s new handyman along with being fined six hundred dollars.

The mayor took her seat once again stating, “You are all dismissed.”

Emma turned around with a satisfied smile plastered on her face. “Looks like Florida is gonna have to wait.”