#otp: clock and dagger

[btsvt-adventures]

Day 06/30 - Coffee Stained Boyfriend Tees

A/n: Day (week) 6 of 30 day OTP challenge! This has been crossposted to AO3, so if by chance you see something like this under the u/n Soojinnie, don’t panic HAHA it’s just me from like 2 years ago or something :3

Prompt: Wearing each other’s clothes

Pairing: Jihoon x Seungcheol (Jicheol)

Warning(s): shy, ADORABLE fluff, like it’s all just so tingly and cute okay i love it

Words:  2,647

Want more of this AU? Or want your own AU? Ask me here!

30 DAY (WEEK) OTP CHALLENGE Masterlist

Seungcheol watches Jihoon run a hand through his blonde hair, hiding a fond smile when he sees Jihoon flop backwards onto the sofa seat. He figures it’s a good time to offer some support (and more coffee, of course).

“You always know when I need more coffee,” Jihoon murmurs tiredly, arm covering his eyes as he slumps into the cushions. Seungcheol chuckles, setting down Jihoon’s usual four-shot iced americano, and taking a sip of his own caramel macchiato.

“This much caffeine will stop your heart one day,” he says mildly, snorting when Jihoon stares daggers at him.

“You’re the one that feeds my addiction so late into the night,” he huffs, staring Seungcheol down as he takes a large sip. “For free, no less.”

Seungcheol winks at him flirtatiously, coaxing Jihoon to take a break so his eyebags don’t hit the floor. Jihoon relents, albeit reluctantly, but he really should relax, even if it’s just for a little bit. Seungcheol lights up when Jihoon agrees, and the aspiring producer swears his heart stops for a second.

Stop it, he’s just being nice, Jihoon chastises himself quickly, feeling the embarrassment creep in when he thinks of the work in progress on his laptop. Seungcheol’s talking about some customer earlier today who was being a pain, but all Jihoon can hear is the song he’s made for Seungcheol.

Jihoon had started coming to the cafe almost exactly a year ago, because it was the one cafe that stayed open late near the university. He noticed Seungcheol the moment he walked in – who wouldn’t? – and nearly walked into a table. The barista was hot , with his silver hair styled messily, broad shoulders, and a cheeky, dimpled smile gracing his stupidly pretty face. Even his voice was like fucking melted chocolate, and Jihoon couldn’t decide if he was angry or aroused that this man was so… perfect.

Stupid hormones.

They’d gradually become acquaintances (friends, Seungcheol insisted), partly due to Jihoon’s daily frequent visits to the cafe, but also because Seungcheol always worked the night shifts, and Jihoon never failed to be the last one to leave.

Their “Jihoon please take a break here’s some free coffee” routine started about two months ago, and Jihoon’s superficial fancy exploded into a full-blown “oh no I like you” crush. He belatedly registers that Seungcheol was talking about something, but he’s too deep in his thoughts to realize that Seungcheol’s stopped talking

“And so she made this whole fuss about the whipped cream and…Jihoon? Hoonie…? ….. Hello?” Seungcheol waves his hand in front of the younger, startling when Jihoon jerks back into reality.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here, sorry, I just got distracted,” he laughs nervously, and Seungcheol waves him off, standing from his seat across the younger. He ruffles Jihoon’s hair (much to the younger’s distaste), and leaves, promising him more coffee if he was still around later on.

Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief when Seungcheol walks away, cracking his laptop open and staring at the endless green, purple and blue bars littered across his screen. He tinkers with the melody and layers for a little bit, excitement bubbling in his stomach when he realizes he’s almost done. After two agonizing weeks, he’s almost finished the song.

He plays it from start to finish, scribbling notes and making adjustments to refine the track even more, but he can’t hide the grin on his face when he listens to the song he made. The elation however, turns into gut-wrenching nerves when he realizes he now has to somehow show this to Seungcheol.

How the fuck am I supposed to do that?! He frets, groaning into his hands. Seungcheol looks up at the sound, head cocked in concern, and he glances at the clock, cursing when he notices how late it is. He’s not sure if the younger even realizes, and his heart starts pounding when he realizes his opportunity.

“Hey, Jihoon,” he calls out, and the blonde student looks up, confused. “You missed curfew,” he says, going for nonchalant, but he’s half sure it just sounds constipated. Jihoon’s eyes widen with panic, and he glances at his phone, heart sinking when he sees the bright numbers staring back at him.

12:31AM.

“Fuck, I forgot about curfew,” he groans, running a hand through his blonde hair, and Seungcheol decides to risk it.

“Stay at my place tonight,” he blurts, ears instantly heating up when Jihoon blinks at him owlishly. “Yeah, since the dorms are closed for tonight, just come stay at my place. I’m sure my housemate Jeonghan won’t mind,” he shrugs, and Jihoon frowns.

An invitation to Seungcheol’s apartment sounds like disaster, temptation, sin, and a mistake snowballed into one sentence, but Jihoon’s not sure how much of a choice he has. He nods hesitantly, and Seungcheol beams at him, telling him to wait a couple minutes while he cleans up the store. Jihoon saves his work and transfers the song into a thumbdrive, watching as Seungcheol’s silver head of hair disappears into the back room, before he reappears in a hoodie and coat, bag slung over one shoulder and a bright smile on his face.

“It only took me a year to get you to come over, so let’s go already,” he grins, and Jihoon scrambles to pack everything, wincing when he bumps his thigh on the corner of his table.

“You never invited me hyung,” JIhoon snorts, refusing to look up at Seungcheol, tugging his beanie down so he can hide his flaming ears. Seungcheol laughs, casually draping his arm across Jihoon’s slender shoulders and leading him out of the cafe. They step outside, both flinching at the icy breeze that greets  them. Jihoon can still feel the heat radiating from his cheeks, and he’s momentarily thankful for the winter chill.

The short walk to Seungcheol’s apartment is silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Seungcheol wants to say something, maybe make a joke about how it’s a romantic night, but he doesn’t want to come off too strong. He glances at Jihoon, curled up in his oversized coat, beanie pulled low over his ears, and he can’t help but think the younger looks ridiculously adorable.

Jihoon on the other hand, is trying very hard not to just blurt out his feelings for the barista. It just feels so stupid, to be so in love (is it even love???) with someone who you barely even know, but Jihoon just looks at Seungcheol, and his heart starts racing, and his palms are sweaty. He’d spoken to his his best friend (and housemate), and Soonyoung had just laughed in his face, cooing that his little Jihoonie had a crush.

Before Jihoon can have an anxiety attack on what to say, Seungcheol announces that they’re here, and Jihoon snaps back to reality, suddenly realizing that they’re already indoors and they’re standing in front of his apartment. He looks up at Seungcheol, who’s holding the door open, and he stumbles in, mumbling a half assed apology for making the older wait. Seungcheol just laughs it off, ushering Jihoon in and helping him take his jacket.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, looking around Seungcheol’s apartment curiously. It’s clean, JIhoon notes idly, spotting the advertising textbooks on the desk. “Your housemate’s still in school?” He asks, setting his bag down hesitantly, and Seungcheol blinks, looking over to where Jihoon’s staring.

“Jeonghan? Nah, he graduated last year, but he’s been too lazy to throw his shit away,” Seungcheol laughs, motioning for Jihoon to follow him. “The sofa is gross from all the sex Hannie and Jisoo have on it, so you’ll have to share the bed with me,” he beams at Jihoon, who nearly chokes on air.

“B-but that’s so – inappropriate!” Jihoon squeaks, and Seungcheol snorts goodnaturedly, waving away Jihoon’s concerns and leading him to his King sized bed.

“Look at this bed, it’s more than enough for the both of us to share innocently,” he grins. Jihoon doesn’t respond, letting a comfortable silence fall between them.

Jihoon takes the opportunity to look around Seungcheol’s room, glancing at the photos and the various photos he’s put up.

“Hey hyung… you know I’ve been working really hard on a thing right?” Jihoon blurts. Seungcheol hums, turning around to take off his shirt, and Jihoon’s thoughts come to a screeching halt. His eyes follow the lean lines of Seungcheol’s back, cheeks heating up when he spots Seungcheol watching him.

“I wasn’t – you –!” he flails, and Seungcheol laughs, turning around to face Jihoon, giving the music major an eyeful of Seungcheol’s bare skin.

“Hey, don’t blank out on me just cos you think I’m hot,” he teases, and Jihoon yelps, throwing a pillow at the older, burrowing himself under the blankets when Seungcheol catches it effortlessly. “What about it? Did you want me to listen to it?” he asks, cooing when he sees the crown of Jihoon’s blonde head peek out and nod hesitantly, pointing to a silver thumbdrive resting precariously on top of Jihoon’s wallet.

“Made it for you,” Jihoon mumbles into the blanket, so muffled and barely audible that Seungcheol almost doesn’t hear it. His heart nearly explodes with affection, and for a second Seungcheol isn’t sure if his heart can take it. He picks up the thumbdrive, plugging it into his computer, letting the soft piano sounds fill the silence between them.

Jihoon can’t help but watch as the different emotions play across Seungcheol’s stupidly handsome face. His heart’s racing, and he can only hope and pray that Seungcheol likes it, and maybe… possibly… understands what he’s trying to say.

The song trails off, and they descend into a nervous silence. Jihoon wants to burrow back into his (Seungcheol’s) blanket, but he needs to know.

“You don’t have to answer me I just figured it was the best time and –”

“I like you too,” Seungcheol answers suddenly, but Jihoon continues like he doesn’t hear Seungcheol.

“I know you don’t like me back but I figured you – wait you what?” he asks dumbly, staring at the older in shock.

“I like you,” Seungcheol repeats, an amused smile growing on his face, reaching out and pulling Jihoon closer. “Go out with me tomorrow? I’d love to take you out,” he murmurs, and Jihoon turns beet red.

“T-The date way right?” he stammers, and Seungcheol nearly falls off the bed, barely able to form words from how hard he’s laughing.

“Yes, Jihoonie, the date way,” he snickers, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes, stupid grin still plastered across his annoyingly handsome face. “Besides, I don’t think I have the skills to take you out any other way,” he quips.

Jihoon’s half sure his face is actually on fire from how hot it is, what with the way Seungcheol’s staring at him. As grossly clichéd as it was, it almost felt like Seungcheol was staring right into him, and Jihoon wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Shut up, go to sleep,” he huffs, tugging the blankets around him and determinedly turning away from the older. The lights click off, and Jihoon hears Seungcheol snicker quietly and the soft rustle of fabric before the bed dips,warmth immediately surrounding him.

“Only took me a year to get you in my bed,” Seungcheol giggles quietly, and Jihoon elbows him none too gently, smirking when he hears Seungcheol choke on his laughter.

“I take it back, I don’t like you anymore,” he deadpans, freezing when he feels Seungcheol’s soft, pillowy lips press themselves to Jihoon’s forehead.

“N-Night hyung,” he whispers, sighing contentedly when Seungcheol wraps an arm around Jihoon’s slim waist.

“Goodnight Jihoonie,” Seungcheol whispers back, voice husky, and Jihoon can barely stop the shiver that runs up his spine. He’s exhausted, but he’s so excited he’s not sure he’ll sleep tonight.

(He proves himself wrong by falling asleep literally in the next blink, and Seungcheol thinks that’s really fucking adorable.)

What is significantly less cute is Seungcheol waking up in a panic to Jihoon’s alarm blaring the OST from Attack of Titans and watching the boy in question physically trying to throw himself out of bed in his haste to make it to class on time.

“Fuck, I don’t have time to change,” Jihoon frets, and Seungcheol grabs one of his work shirts, tossing it at Jihoon’s sleep ruffled blonde head.

“Wear this, no one will care what bottoms you’re wearing, and I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” Seungcheol yawns, flopping back onto the bed. “Use whatever skincare or cologne you want,” he mumbles, curling into the warm spot JIhoon left, promptly falling back asleep.

Jihoon wants to just throw the shirt on and run to class, but he also doesn’t want to smell terrible (read: he just really wants to smell like Seungcheol). He decides that brushing his teeth and some basic cleansing is the least he should do so he looks somewhat presentable.

Seven minutes, a scribbled note, and precisely three minutes of very frantic running later, Jihoon flops into his seat, panting just as their lecturer, Professor Min, walks in.

“Running late, Jihoonie?” Soonyoung whispers, smirking when Jihoon kicks him in the shin. “Bold statement, wearing your new boyfriend’s shirt so quickly,” he comments, turning away to focus on the lecture while Jihoon gapes at him uselessly.

Soonyoung makes fun of him throughout the rest of their seemingly never-ending class, and for once Jihoon can’t retaliate. He knows nothing happened between them (no matter how much Jihoon wished it did), but the more he denied it, the more Soonyoung teased him of just being shy.

“Fuck you,” Jihoon hisses at Soonyoung once class has been dismissed, grumbling even more when Soonyoung just laughs.

“It’s lovely to see you in love like this, Hoon-ah,” Soonyoung snickers, and Jihoon huffs, flipping his “ex” best friend off, idly wondering where Seungcheol was.

Maybe we can have lunch, he hums, fiddling with his AirPods case as he leaves the lecture hall. He slips them in, scrolling with one hand to try and find a song. He glances up, expecting to see a sea of students making their way to lunch. He expects to maybe catch a glimpse of Wonwoo, who’s in his lyrics class, or even Jungkook, the talented dancer who majors in video production. He expects the noise of a couple hundred students talking at once, audible even through his AirPods.

What he doesn’t expect, is one (1) Choi Seungcheol, leaning against the wall, two coffees in hand. He spots Jihoon immediately, and the smile that appears on his face momentarily stuns Jihoon.

“Hey, brought you some coffee, I hope an Iced Americano is okay?” he asks nervously, taking a sip of his Iced latte.

“It’s perfect,” he mumbles, ears hot as he takes a grateful sip. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

Seungcheol laughs, wrapping an arm around Jihoon’s shoulder easily, leading him off campus. “Nah, it’s my off day today, so I thought we could grab lunch,” he pauses suddenly, and Jihoon stumbles for a second, looking up at Seungcheol in confusion.

“If you want to, of course, I don’t want to force you or anything,” he blurts, and Jihoon can’t help but burst out laughing.

“I wanted to call you to ask you the same thing, so yes, lunch would be great,” he chuckles, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.

“Great! I know a great jjajangmyeon place,” Seungcheol grins, beaming when Jihoon makes a noise of assent. “Oh, by the way Jihoon, you look really hot in my shirt, ” he chirps, and Jihoon nearly snorts his coffee in surprise.

“Warn a guy before you say shit like that,” he croaks, and Seungcheol winks suggestively, eyes roving Jihoon’s body daringly. He leans forward, so close that Jihoon can feel Seungcheol’s lips against his nape, and his breath hitches.

“Nah, it’s way more fun to tease you like this.”

[lostinfantasies38]

OC Aesthetic Tag: Sirra Brosca

My current OTP with Alistair during the Fifth Blight!  OMG - so much yes!  She’s kind of a mess, but that’s why I love her.  She is so relatable, at least I hope other people think so. 

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. lean. piercings. tattoos. lithe. moles. dimples. stretch marks.  long hair. medium hair.  short hair.  pixie.  shaved head.  bald. coarse.  fine.    

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. grenades.  tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles. words.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amber. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. jade.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. bluebirds. jackals.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. bitter. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. flight. climbing. running. freerunning. exploring. partying. yoga.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. hoops. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket. sport underwear.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. hard. soft. madness. sanity. sadness. bittersweet. happiness. luck. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. revenge. lust. regrets. passion. spontaneity. potty mouth. recklessness. practicality.

I tag: anyone who wants  to do it! Thanks @shield-maiden-of-sherwood  this was super fun to fill out :)

source: annorarutherford

@kittimau and anyone else!  Art by the great @kittimau​

[ssho25]

Hopelessly Devoted to You

@thatsthat24 makes a list for inktober prompts and I really liked day 18: Draw your OTP in Halloween costumes that are designed to go together! (Shout out to him for the inspiration) But I am unfortunately not an artist, so I wrote a fic instead. So...yeah.  (also available on ao3)

“Thank you for your patronage. Please come again,” Kazuya repeated for the umpteenth time that day. He focused on maintaining his gentle bow and smile, trying his best to ignore the giggling girls as they walked by him.

“Miyuki-kun looks so handsome,” one of the girls whispered.

“The waiter uniform really suits him,” her friend agreed.

“Ahh~, I should’ve taken a picture for my phone background,” chimed the third.

Once they rounded the corner, Kazuya let out a large breath he didn’t know he was holding. He whipped his head over to the clock. 12:45pm. Good, only 15 minutes left of wearing that ridiculous outfit.

It was the annual cultural festival at Seidou High School, and Kazuya was designated as a waiter for his class’s café. Usually he’d weasel his way out of things like this, using baseball practice as an excuse. But this year, the girls had guilted him into it.

“We know you don’t have baseball practice Miyuki-kun. Maezono-kun already told us,” one complained.

“It’s not fair if you make us do everything,” said another.

“You can at least do some work the day of…”

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Kazuya said, his hands at his chest raised in surrender. “Just give me whatever job there is. I’ll do it.”

That was how Kazuya found himself in a well tailored, form-fitting waiter costume that looked like it belonged to a high-end café. The flattering uniform made him stand out way more than he liked, earning him unwanted attention not unlike the girls who just left. He inwardly cursed his past self for giving in so easily and not getting the details beforehand. And just when did his classmates get his measurements? These clothes fit waytoo well to be a coincidence.

“Hey,” Kuramochi called out. “Stop slacking off and bring these orders to table 4.”

“We’ve been doing this for the past 2 days now. I’m allowed to complain,” Kazuya argued, yet still walked over.

“It’s just until your shift is over.”

Kazuya picked up the desserts one by one and placed them onto his tray. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been hiding behind this curtain all weekend.”

“You’re fault for saying you’d do whatever,” Kuramochi muttered as he cooked some fried rice.

Kazuya pouted, but quickly replaced it with a professional looking smile as he approached table 4. “Here is your parfait and pancakes. Please enjoy,” he said to the couple at the table.

“I agreed to help out,” Kazuya continued when he returned to Kuramochi’s cooking station. “What I didn’t agree to was being stared at by so many girls.”

“Don’t pat yourself too hard on the back,” Kuramochi commented sarcastically.

“I’m not bragging, I’m uncomfortable,” Kazuya corrected. “Why are there so many girls anyway?”

“You can thank our classmates for that,” Kuramochi explained while cooking an omelette. “Ever since the fall nationals, you’ve been really popular, especially among girls. So, they’ve been telling everyone that you’re the waiter here as our selling point.” Kuramochi scooped some rice into his omelette and began folding it up. “So, congratulations. They’re all here for you Mr. Ladies Man.” He drizzled ketchup onto the finished omurice and handed Kazuya the plate. “Now quit whining and take this to table 1.”

Kazuya took the plate to the corresponding table and came right back to Kuramochi. “Don’t get mad at me. I didn’t ask them to take my picture.”

“I bet you’d be okay with it if it was Sawamura,” Kuramochi countered.

“Why would I let Sawamura take a picture of me?”

“Besides the crush you have on him?”

“I don’t have a crush on him,” Kazuya said defensively.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure you don’t,” Kuramochi replied unenthusiastically, clearly more focused on cooking than he was on the conversation.

“I don’t!”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Because that’s the truth.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

“You think I lose sleep thinking about Sawamura?”

“I didn’t say that. You did.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Kazuya said matter-of-factly.

“How’s this? Haruichi and I know you keep a picture of you and Sawamura in the side pocket of your duffel bag.”

Kazuya froze in shock, but brushed it off before Kuramochi noticed. “You’re just making that up.”

“It’s from the time the newspaper club asked to write an article on the baseball club after we won the fall tournament. Sawamura has his arm around you and looks cheerful as ever, but you weren’t looking at the camera.” Kazuya didn’t retaliate, so Kuramochi continued. “I’m guessing the photographer caught you off guard, ‘cause you had quite the gentle expression while staring at Sawamura.”

Kazuya’s eyebrows scrunched up. “How did you…?”

“A few weeks ago before practice, the picture fell out without you noticing. Haruichi picked it up and was going to call out to you, but then saw what it was and thought better of it. After practice, he gave it to me and I slipped it into your bag while we walked to class.”

“…Okay, so maybe you do know about it,” Kazuya reluctantly admitted. “But there’s no special meaning to it,” he quickly added.

“Oh?” Kuramochi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s…it’s just a good luck charm,” Kazuya answered.

“What an interesting choice of a good luck charm. Why that one?” Kuramochi inquired.

“N-no reason…”

“You sure about that?” Kuramochi pointedly asked, his gaze boring holes into Kazuya.

The conversation was cut short when Kazuya and Kuramochi heard the familiar sound of a cell phone camera shutter. They turned towards the sound and found Sawamura had snuck up on them, a self-satisfied smile on his face and his cell phone primed and ready to take photos.

“Hey, no pictures,” Kuramochi called out.

“Whoops, already sent it to Onii-san,” Sawamura unapologetically said.

“I thought I told you no,” Kuramochi retorted, a scowl on his face and his fist raised as a threat.

“Sorry Kuramochi-senpai,” Sawamura replied more seriously, “But Nii-san asked for it. And to be honest? I’m more scared of him than you.” The look on Sawamura’s face was more than enough proof that he wasn’t messing around.

“…Yeah, that’s fair,” Kuramochi reluctantly said, recounting the not-so fond memories he had with Ryousuke.

Rather than sympathize with the two of them, Kazuya was more concerned about something else. “How long were you standing there?” he asked Sawamura.

“Hmm? Oh, not long at all. I just got here,” Sawamura replied.

“So, you didn’t hear us talking?”

“About what?” Sawamura gasped. “You were bad mouthing me, weren’t you?”

“Actually, we were complimenting you and that last game we played. Your pitching was the best you’ve done so far,” Kazuya said.

Sawamura blinked in disbelief, though it quickly turned to prideful acceptance. He folded his arms and upturned his nose. “Hehe, it’s rare to hear that kind of flattery from you Miyuki-senpai. Of course, I did work hard on those pitches, but…”

Sawamura happily chatted away while Kazuya let out a small sigh of relief. Thankfully, Sawamura didn’t hear the conversation from earlier. Even so, Kazuya couldn’t help but smile at Sawamura’s energy; it was quite infectious really.

Kazuya felt a pair of eyes staring at him and found Kuramochi to be the offender.

“Still don’t have a crush?” Kuramochi’s raised eyebrow seemed to ask.

Kazuya waved his hand in dismissal causing Kuramochi to roll his eyes and go back to cooking. Kazuya, wanting to forget Kuramochi’s ridiculous ideas, returned his attention to Sawamura. “So, what brings you here?” Kazuya asked, interrupting Sawamura’s monologue.

“Huh?”

“Did you really just come to take Kuramochi’s picture?”

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out with me.”

Not only did Kazuya freeze, but so did Kuramochi who had been eavesdropping. “Go…out with you?”

“Yeah. Go out and see all the booths in the courtyard. I heard there’s a really good yakisoba stall down there.”

“…Oh.” Kazuya felt a little disappointed, but paid no attention to those feelings. “Why me?”

“Well, everyone else I asked said they were working at their classroom booths. And since I needed a picture of Kuramochi-senpai, I thought I’d might as well ask you too.”

“…I see.” Again, Kazuya wasn’t too happy about Sawamura’s response. He tried not to show it because he knew Kuramochi was still watching and would comment on it later. “Unfortunately, I can’t walk around with you, Sawamura.”

“Aw, why not?” Sawamura asked.

“Yeah, why not? Your shift is done,” Kuramochi chimed in, pointing to the clock.

Kazuya’s eyes followed Kuramochi’s finger to the clock and sure enough, it was a few minutes past 1:00pm. He glared daggers at Kuramochi, but Kuramochi was unfazed. 

“Just take him Sawamura. He’s been whining all day and I’m sick of it already,” Kuramochi added.

“Yay!” Sawamura cheered. He grabbed Kazuya’s wrist and began to drag him out of the classroom. “Let’s hit every stall we can!”

“H-hey, wait!” Kazuya protested. “At least let me change first!”

…

“Man, high school cultural festivals are so much fun!” Sawamura exclaimed.

Kazuya chuckled. “You say it like it’s your first one.”

“Well, it kind of is. Last year, we were so busy with club activities that I didn’t get to enjoy the festival. It’s the same for you too isn’t it?”

Kazuya shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

For the past hour, Kazuya had let Sawamura drag him around the school, trying out the many different food stalls and booths other students had set up. It was honestly a lot of fun and it was a shame the festival would be over by the end of the day. But at least he got to experience it before it was gone.

Kazuya suddenly heard paper crinkling next to him and looked over to see Sawamura taking a large bite out of a taiyaki.

“Mmm,” Sawamura said as he happily munched away.

“You’re still eating?” Kazuya asked. “Aren’t you full?”

“But it looked really good! And I was right. Here, try some.” Sawamura extended the treat towards Kazuya.

Kazuya looked down at the taiyaki in Sawamura’s hands, debating whether or not to take a bite. Wasn’t this the infamous ‘indirect kiss’ girls always talked about? Wouldn’t he be giving people the wrong impression about them?

…Wait a minute. Why was he concerned? This was simply his junior offering Kazuya a taste of some food. Thinking about this any longer would mean he wanted something from Sawamura. But that couldn’t be true. Nope. Nuh-uh. That’s something someone with a crush on Sawamura would think.

Kazuya leaned forward and took a bite out of the taiyaki. He straightened back up as he chewed. “Mmm, it is good,” he said in between bites. He turned to his side to see Sawamura was no longer there. Confused, he craned his neck behind him to find Sawamura frozen in place, shock and a light blush dusting his cheeks. “What’s wrong?” Kazuya asked when he returned to Sawamura’s side.

Sawamura’s eyes wouldn’t meet Kazuya’s. “I…I thought you were going to hold it yourself,” Sawamura answered, his hands slowly returning to his chest.

It occurred to Kazuya that he basically let Sawamura feed him like a real couple and what they did was quite embarrassing and intimate. “…Oh,” was all Kazuya could lamely say as the heat crept onto his face. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes suddenly very interested in whatever he could see through the building’s windows.

“Did something happen?”

“Are they fighting?”

Whispers from other students reached Kazuya’s ears. He realized they were drawing in an audience and needed to keep moving. He cleared his throat before speaking. “You said you wanted to visit Kominato’s classroom?”

“Y-yeah. It’s this way.” Sawamura pointed down the hall and they resumed walking in that direction.

Though the noise and energy of the students around them continued, the silence between them grew thick. Kazuya wasn’t quite sure how to approach the situation. Should he brush it off like it was nothing, or completely forget about it all together? And again, why was he so concerned?

Kazuya suddenly felt something nudge his arm, bringing him back to reality. He looked at his elbow, but figured he must’ve been imagining things when he saw nothing wrong. A second nudge prompted him to look again, and he realized they were coming from Sawamura.

Sawamura didn’t say anything, only gave Kazuya a look. Being battery mates for so long, Kazuya became accustomed to reading Sawamura’s non-verbal communication.

I’m sorry.

Kazuya raised an eyebrow.  What for?

I kind of…made it weird. Sawamura diverted his eyes, letting his shoulders droop and his head downcast.

Kazuya hated to see Sawamura like that and gave him an ever so gentle nudge back. Don’t worry about it.

Sawamura peeked at Kazuya through the side of his eye. Really?

Kazuya shrugged. Wouldn’t be the first time you did something weird.

Sawamura’s cheeks flushed red as he shoved Kazuya. He didn’t put much force into it, but it was enough to make Kazuya fumble a little with his steps.

Kazuya chuckled at Sawamura’s antics, knowing that Sawamura wasn’t as hurt as he seemed. Eventually, Kazuya could hear Sawamura quietly laughing along with him. He smiled at Sawamura and gave him another nudge. Yeah, really. It’s okay.

Sawamura reciprocated the gesture with a soft smile of his own. But instead of a nudge, Sawamura left his arm to rest against Kazuya’s. Kazuya was surprised by the intimacy, but welcomed it all the same. He kind of…liked it.

They continued to walk shoulder-to-shoulder until they heard…

 “Miyuki-senpai! Sawamura-kun! Over here!”  

Kazuya and Sawamura turn their heads to see Toujou standing by a classroom, one hand holding up a large sign while the other beckoned for them to come over. Kariba was standing beside him, waving as well. Sawamura dashed ahead to meet with his friends, leaving Kazuya behind to catch up.

Kazuya didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little hurt by the lack of hesitation from Sawamura. He also didn’t want to admit how he almost reached out to stop Sawamura from leaving his side, how surprised he was with himself when he realized what he was about to do. Kazuya actively ignored how he missed the warmth of Sawamura’s arm against his own, and how Sawamura’s bright and cheery smile directed at other people made his chest feel funny.

Acknowledging all these things would mean acknowledging Sawamura had an affect on him. Coming to terms with that was hard, and a little bit scary. Worst of all, it would mean Kuramochi could be right and that Kazuya might actually have a…no. No, no, no. It’s not a crush. Infatuation maybe, but definitely not a crush.

“Senpai! Hurry up!” Sawamura shouted.

Kazuya shook his thoughts away and made his way over to Sawamura.

“Miyuki-senpai, let’s take a picture!” Sawamura said.

“Picture?” Kazuya questioned.

“Our class is running a photo studio for the cultural festival,” Kariba explained. “We have a bunch of props and costumes you can use to take pictures with your friends.”  

“You can trust Kominato, he’s really good with the camera,” Toujou added.

“So let’s go!” Sawamura said.

“Yeah…I think I’m good,” Kazuya responded. He had enough pictures taken for one day.

“Aw, please?” Sawamura begged.

Kazuya wanted to resist, but found it incredibly difficult to do so. Since when was he so weak to Sawamura? Probably when he started thinking Sawamura was cute…but when did that happen? “All right, but just one picture.”

Sawamura’s whole face lit up with excitement and Kazuya hated how adorable he thought it was.

“Right this way,” Toujou said as he gestured to the doorway.

Kazuya and Sawamura walked into the classroom and were surprised to see how elaborate the makeshift photo studio looked. There was a hair and makeup stations, racks of costumes, boxes of props, and a blue backdrop in front of Haruichi. A group of guys were making silly poses as the camera flashed before them.

“Whoa, this almost looks like the real thing,” Sawamura commented in awe. Kazuya had to admit, it did look quite professional.

“Hello there!” One student said as they approached the duo.

“Hello,” Kazuya replied. “How much are the photos?”

“You can get 1 photo for 200 yen, 500 yen for 3, or 600 yen for 6.”

“Could we just get 1 picture, please?”

“Certainly. Would you like to try on some costumes?”

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary,” Kazuya replied.

“What are you talking about, Miyuki Kazuya?” Sawamura exclaimed. “Of course we have to put on a costume!”

“We can just take a normal photo.”

“We can NOT ‘just take a normal photo’. Where’s the fun in that?” Sawamura linked his arm around Kazuya’s and began to drag him towards the racks of clothes. “Come on, we’re going to find really cool ones!”

“H-hey, I don’t…” Kazuya tried to protest, but to no avail. Sawamura was already sifting through the costumes, trying to find the ones he liked the best. Kazuya sighed and began to look at the costumes as well, but was doubtful of finding something he would agree to. A butler’s suit? No, he already felt like a butler all weekend. A vampire? Yeah, no. He wasn’t too keen about wearing a cape.

Kazuya went through an entire rack of costumes, each one worse than the one before. He made a silent prayer that Sawamura wouldn’t make him wear any of these. He looked to his side expecting Sawamura to be there only to find that Sawamura had stopped moving in the middle of his rack.

Kazuya approached Sawamura and saw Sawamura’s eye sparkling at one particular costume. Kazuya took one look at the costume and knew exactly why Sawamura was so enamored by it. You could only see the back, but Kazuya could tell it was a Yomiuri Giants baseball jersey. A big number 14 was centrally located on the jersey, but the most important detail was the word ‘SAWAMURA’ written in capital letters above the number.

“It’s like it was made for me,” Sawamura whispered, his eyes wide in amazement.

“It’s the jersey for Sawamura Eiji,” Kazuya explained. “He was the pitcher. The ace even.”

“Really?!” Sawamura’s head whipped over to Kazuya so fast, Kazuya thought Sawamura might’ve hurt himself.

“Yeah really. He was so good as a player, he retired the number 14.”

Sawamura’s jaw dropped in bewilderment and turned to look at the jersey again. “I have to wear it.”

“I mean, do you have to?” Kazuya asked.

“Yes!” Sawamura quickly replied. “And look! There’s another jersey here. So we can match!”

Kazuya looked at the jersey Sawamura was pointing to and saw another Yomiuri Giants jersey. This one had the number 10 and ‘ABE’ written on the back.

“You told me Abe Shinnosuke-san is a catcher, right?” Sawamura asked.

Kazuya nodded in reply.

“Isn’t he the captain as well?”

Kazuya nodded again.

“See? It’s perfect then! An amazing pitcher and catcher, just like us!” Sawamura exclaimed. His enthusiasm and excitement were so blinding that Kazuya forgot how to say no.

The two boys donned the jerseys and found the matching baseball caps in a prop box to finish their ensemble. They walked in front of the blue screen and turned to face the camera.

“Hello Miyuki-senpai, Eijun-kun,” Haruichi said.

“Hey Harucchi!” Sawamura replied.

“I see you’ve found the baseball jerseys,” Haruchi said, gesturing to their outfits.

“Yeah! Where did you find these?” Sawamura asked.

“I brought them from home,” Haruichi answered. “My dad is a big fan and so I asked if I could borrow them. I figured there would be some baseball fans who’d want to wear them.”

“Nice going, Harucchi!” Sawamura complimented, giving his friend a big thumbs up.

Haruichi chuckled. “You’re welcome Eijun-kun. So, how many pictures would you like?”

“Just one is fine,” Kazuya said.

Haruichi nodded. “Just let me know whenever you’re ready.”

Sawamura quickly threw his arm around Kazuya’s waist. “Ready!”

Kazuya wasn’t sure he should do, but eventually let his arm settle around Sawamura’s shoulder. “Ready.”

“Okay, I’m going to take the picture on the count of 3,” Haruichi said as he positioned himself.

“Hey, Sawamura?” Kazuya whispered.

“1…”

“Yeah?” Sawamura whispered back.

“2…”

“Thanks for taking me out. I had a great time,” Kazuya replied.

“3!”

Click!

Haruichi caught the picture as it came out the front of the camera. “All done,” he announced.

“Huh?” Sawamura said confusedly.  

“This camera is a polaroid. That means the picture develops right after you take it,” Haruichi explained. “So, who wants to keep the photo?”

“Sawamura can have it,” Kazuya answered as he took off the costume. He gave it to the student waiting on the side.

“Really? Are you sure?” Sawamura questioned as he began to take off his outfit as well.

“Yeah, you’re the one who wanted to do this, right? So you should keep it.”

Sawamura smiled brightly. “Thank you, Miyuki-senpai.”

Kazuya smiled back. “Don’t mention it,” he replied as he walked to the front of the classroom to pay for their photo.

…

“Here you are, Eijun-kun,” Haruichi said as he handed the photograph to Eijun.

“Thanks, Harucchi.” Eijun looked down at the photo and was surprised with the results.

Haruichi had zoomed in so only their upper body was showing. Miyuki’s playful charm was captured in the picture, with his all too knowing smirk and his angled baseball cap. Eijun on the other hand, wasn’t even looking at the camera. He had a gentle smile while staring at Miyuki.

Eijun realized the camera shutter must’ve went off when Miyuki was whispering to him. He never expected Miyuki to thank him, or even say something so nice. But Eijun was glad he heard it.

“Now I have a good luck charm too,” Eijun whispered as he smiled at the photo.

“What was that?” Haruichi asked.

“Nothing, it was just something I heard Miyuki-senpai say before,” Eijun replied as he slipped the picture into his pocket.

“Sawamura, hurry up or I’ll leave you behind,” Miyuki called out as he exited the classroom.

“Coming,” Eijun called back. “Thanks again, Harucchi,” he said before lightly jogging after Miyuki.

“What took you so long?” Miyuki inquired once Eijun caught up to him.

“Just admiring the good job Harucchi did,” Eijun explained.

“Is it really that good?” Miyuki asked. “Let me see it.”

“No,” Eijun rejected.

“What? Why not?”

“If you wanted to see it, maybe you should’ve said you’d keep it,” Eijun cheekily responded.

Miyuki looked appalled, but it quickly changed to a playful smile. “You little brat,” he said as he locked an arm around Eijun’s neck and began to ruffle up Eijun’s hair.

“Hey, cut it out,” Eijun said through laughs, trying to get out of Miyuki’s hold.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Miyuki said.

“What if you make me lose all my brain cells and then I can’t pitch?”

“Do you even have any up here?”

“Hey!” Eijun shouted.

Miyuki laughed. “If that happens, I’ll take responsibility.”

“Then you have to promise to catch for me every single day until I die!” Eijun negotiated.

Miyuki’s grip on Eijun loosened as Miyuki started to laugh again. “Aren’t I already doing that?” Miyuki continued to laugh, seeming to have forgotten all about the photo.

Eijun stopped trying to escape Miyuki’s arm and smiled at Miyuki instead. He liked it a lot when Miyuki genuinely smiled; it was a rare and beautiful sight. It made his face feel warm and his heart beat fast, but he made a mental note to not say anything until Miyuki’s feelings were the same as his.

Hurry up and say you like me too.  

[maysheriseoncemore]

Ultimate ship meme with this dweeb? :3c

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last?- Quite a while (considering we’ve been roleplaying for a few years together) but both Sanji and Anastasia have been playing coy among their “friendship” and haven’t even entered the ‘i admit i like you stage’ to themselves let alone the other. 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Sanji, despite his declaration of affection for all women, gave her respect before true affection but it wasn’t as quickly as some assume to be while Anastasia was slow and cautious. 

How was their first kiss?- Dominant and smothering with a dash of blue lipstick.

Wedding:

Who proposed?- Despite the fact that Sanji most likely had a big proposal set, Anastasia proposed. While he might have liked if he had proposed, he was none the less thrilled! 

Who is the best man/men?- I’d imagine some of his crew, Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)?- Anastasia doesn’t have many friends that are women so she’d have a mixed party with his other crewmates including Zoro (oh Sanji hated that), Nami and Robin.

Who did the most planning?- Sanji doesn’t want to admit it but he had been planning a wedding in his mind to the future women he loved ever since he was a child. Of course there is mild changes with Anastasia’s input but he has it down pat at least…67% of the time. 

Who stressed the most?- Anastasia. Being married once before, she meets her old friend, Cold Feet. While she’d ditch the big wedding, she would drag Sanji with her with elopement. But she doesn’t. For Sanji. 

How fancy was the ceremony?- Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding?- Enemies of both the crew and Anastasia, the Navy, the Russian government–the list can go on. 

Sex:

Who is on top?- 50/50. Sanji likes to have the missionary position, feeling it intimate and seeing Anastasia’s face but Anastasia is someone who prefers to be on top. It’s quite nice to see Sanji squirming beneath her for once. 

Who is the one to instigate things?- Sanji may be the one to innocently nuzzle up to her but Anastasia is the one to turn on the teasing and take charge. 

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last?- Anastasia might be a little more feisty than Sanji expected but they can last quite a while. 

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms?- Of course, it almost seems like a small competition to see who can get the other to orgasm more.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? -

How many children will they adopt? -

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? -

Who is the stricter parent? -

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? -

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? -

Who is the more loved parent? -

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

Who cried the most at graduation? -

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? -

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Sanji does as it is his life passion and love but Anastasia does manage to cook some meals once in a while.

Who is the most picky in their food choice?- It has to be Anastasia, mostly because anything sweet and sugary are a huge ‘no’ for her.

Who does the grocery shopping?- Sanji because as much as he adores her, she should not be trusted without supervision in the alcohol aisle. 

How often do they bake desserts?- Sanji has made it his mission to make a desert that will get her non-sugar approval however he doesn’t bake as often because he knows she prefers hardy meals. 

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater?- Anastasia is definitely a meat lover but for Sanji, she’ll eat more salads but Sanji is a good balance of both. 

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner?- Anastasia, at least she tries to because Sanji is always right on top of anniversaries. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out?- Anastasia, mostly so that way it can give Sanji a chance to relax and take a break from cooking their meals and spend more time with her. And if she happens to trail her foot up his leg and to thigh beneath the tablecloth to see him flustered in public is just an extra bonus. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking?- Neither but there was that one time that they were more concentrated on the other than the pot on the stovetop…

Chores:

Who cleans the room?- Despite Anastasia being the one who’s the messiest in the room, she’s also the one to clean it up mostly because she sees Sanji as the one who cooks so it’s only fair.

Who is really against chores?- Neither really because they are Responsible Adults with capital letters…however they will complain about them.

Who cleans up after the pets?- That would be Anastasia because all of her dogs are her responsibility. 

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug?- 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? -

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning?- Sanji but he also found many other things among the cushions like daggers, Sanji’s favorite cufflinks, Anastasia’s bra–so much!

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths?-  Sanji mostly because Anastasia sees it as particularly lazy to spend time than needed in the bath but Sanji manages to convince her of baths together. 

Who takes the dog out for a walk?- Both because there’s a lot of them and they both enjoy the walk.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays?- Anastasia is the one who decorates so often but Sanji can get a tad bit annoyed with how hard she goes for Halloween.

What are their goals for the relationship?- Honest communication, everlasting support, and everlasting love. 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon?- Sanji because Anastasia’s internal clock will not allow her to sleep in.

Who plays the most pranks?- Anastasia because how could she not? However Sanji can be just as sneaky and mischievous.

[smolfangirl]

Luna Enchanted

So I rewatched “Ella Enchanted” yesterday and since I apparently have an OTP pattern since my childhood (and needed to take a break from writing on my other projects), I decided to type down a little Lutteo version of two scenes from the movie! I have no idea what time it is rn, because I blacked out the clock on my screen, but it is definitely too late for me which I am only telling you so you’re not surprised or shocked when this turns out to be total rubbish ^^

Word count: 1k

///

The flames danced in front of his eyes. Prince Matteo leaned against the wall right next to the chimney, but the warmth in his chest didn’t come from the crackling fire.

No, that kind of warmth derived from his thoughts, his memories. From remembering a kind smile, lighting up the prettiest set of crystal-clear green eyes he had ever seen, and the knowledge it revealed a heart of gold.

He couldn’t believe he met someone like Luna, never even imagined someone like her would walk this earth, yet alone his kingdom. She embodied the wife by his side he hadn’t understood he needed or wanted. Her courage, her wit, her kindness – everything he had learned about her pulled him closer into her orbit. Their first meeting gave away that she simply wasn’t a person to forget quickly, perhaps gave it away earlier than he figured, and every encounter afterwards only strengthened the bond he felt towards her.

A bond so strong he decided to marry her.

Sure, his uncle held his own opinions about Matteo’s intentions. A common girl, never introduced to the court, and with the distinctive habit of taking some comments a bit too literally - not his first picture of the ideal wife for the future king.

But Matteo found himself uncapable to care. He loved Luna. Loved her truly. She already made him a better king for his people, and clearly his uncle would come to realize that, and then he’d congratulate him on his luck.

Until then, he could live with the disapproving glares he received.

His eyes darted back to the ring in his hand. Diamond, simple but worthy of what he hoped to be his queen. Now, if he only managed to lay out the perfect speech for his proposal… Should he write down a love declaration? Or just go with the words his heart dictated in that moment?

A servant hushing into the room interrupted his thoughts.

The complaint about the lack of respect and courtesy reached the tip of his tongue already when the young boy held out a letter, his hands shaking. Silently, he took it before he nodded towards the door. ‘To Prince Matteo’ it read, in a straight but neat handwriting.

He felt his cheeks heating up.

Dear Matteo,

Please believe that this is the hardest thing I ever had to do, and I can only hope you will understand. I am deeply thankful for everything you have done for me, and I feel honored to got to know you. But I cannot be with you, not ever. For reasons that have to remain a secret, I cannot give you an explanation, but please trust me, it is the best for both of us. I am in great faith that you will be a great king and bring peace over the kingdom, and I wish you nothing but the best.

Goodbye forever,

Luna

Once.

Twice.

He read it again. His gaze hurried over the lines, back and forth, over and over, like the words would change if only he stared long enough. But they didn’t, they didn’t change their meaning, didn’t unbreak his heart. She couldn’t be with him, she didn’t want him, and he’d been planning to propose like an idiot without seeing she had no intentions of saying Yes.

But she kissed him.

It didn’t matter. The kiss didn’t matter, or it didn’t matter enough. Whatever. He shook his head. Maybe he should focus on his coronation, on the ball celebrating his coming of age. On the ball where he would have offered her every dance, no matter the etiquette, where he would have taken her hand to lead her to the hidden garden, where he would have kneeled and…

He already knew she’d be stuck in his mind for much longer than she thought about him.

///

Luna had tried to kill him.

He proposed to her, thinking it’d be the happiest moment of his life, and she tried to kill him. He couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to, but the proof in form of a dagger laid on the ground in front of him. The blade glistened between fallen pedals and scattered leaves, mocked him and his foolish belief that she did love him, and he still struggled to get a hold on reality.

Luna fell to his feet. Her breaths came hard and quick, she gasped for air, muttered, though he failed to understand a single word. Failed to understand anything.

She tried to kill him.

Thinking it didn’t help to make it feel any more real. What about the kiss? Her encouragements, her almost-compliment? What about dancing with her, feeling her hands in his? And the letter? It made no sense, no, there had to be an explanation, something that didn’t involve any heart-crushing letter or murder weapon.

(But honestly, he’d rather receive a hundred more of these letters than to see her in his embrace, holding a dagger to his back.)

“Guards!” His uncle, behind him. Next to him. “Take her away!”

Luna begged. Promised, swore she could explain, pleading him to listen to her. But the guards dragged her away, and he let them, because words failed him, and he wanted to believe she was innocent but the sight of her about to stab him burned itself into his mind. The hope he had found thanks to her melted in his hands now, the world he had imagined building with her crumbled into ashes. The letter he had forgiven her the moment he spotted her at the ball, but a dagger?

A dagger couldn’t be forgiven even with the most confiding of hearts.

///

When Matteo rested his head on the pillow, he felt not any better than when he saw Luna being locked away. He wondered how she felt, sitting in a dungeon cell, if just an ounce of guilt flew through her veins. His uncle denied her any compassion, insisting she belonged to a group of commoners revolting against the crown, and that their encounters had been staged. Every single one.

But really every single one? Matteo struggled to believe that. That kiss back at the wedding had been magical, had lend him wings and had taken him to heights he never dared to dream of. And she’d been so sweet and honest – could someone as rotten as a murderer keep up such a mask?

Matteo didn’t know.

As sleep reached out its hand to him, he only knew that he still wanted her to love him.

[rexhc]

hooky, pt. 1

or rather - “jack costello and isaac zuckerman’s day off”

still working on br/otp projects! this one’s for logan - love ya pal

this was originally gonna be really long, so i’m splitting this into two parts. i’m still working on pt. 2. so here’s pt. 1!

heavily featuring the other members of the disaster crew - vaughn, graham, namir, and levi.

///////

Jack’s first thought of the day is that he’s pretty sure he’s going to kill his roommate - it’s how a lot of his days start. He thinks this before he can even open his eyes, and the second thought he has is that it probably wouldn’t take too much mana to melt that stupid fucking alarm clock right in his hands. The third is that, fuck, his head hurts.

“What the fuck dude?” he groans, his raspy voice full of sleep as he rubs his eyes and begrudgingly sits up in bed. “I was having the coolest dream. Of course you and your goddamn nuclear fallout alarm had to ruin it.” He turns to shoot daggers at his roommate, only to find him perfectly asleep under his mountain of ridiculous blankets and quilts. Jack calls his name twice, but Vaughn remains unstirred and Jack’s ears continue to ring from the deafening alarm clock.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he mutters, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and crossing the duct tape line across the middle of their floor. The line had been a failed attempt by Vaughn to keep Jack’s destructiveness away from his belongings, though 90% of the time you can’t even see the tape under Vaughn’s scattered dirty laundry. So maybe Jack is a disaster, but his roommate is a slob.

Jack slams his hand on top of the alarm clock. The blaring ceases and when Jack removes his palm, the plastic on top of the device is partly melted. Whatever, he tells himself, it wasn’t on purpose. Or maybe it was. He’s way too exhausted and hungover to tell.

“Vaughn!” He shoves him twice in the shoulder. Still, nothing.

Alright, Jack is done with this shit. He focuses his mana into his index finger, raises his hand, and…

“Ow! Whyyyyyy?”

“Goddamn it, you could sleep through a tornado.”

“Yes, probably.” Vaughn’s voice is heavy as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes with a curled fist. “Unless it was a burning tornado.”

“I scorched your horrible alarm. But I think I was doing the whole floor a favor. It deserved to die.”

Vaughn angrily mutters something Jack doesn’t understand. “Graham gave me that clock. It’s really loud so I don’t sleep through it.”

Jack scoffs sarcastically and crosses his arms over his bare chest. “Yeah, works great.”

His small grumpy roommate turns over toward the wall. “Please take your dick out of my face.”

Jack snaps the elastic of his boxer briefs with a thumb. “You wish you could wake up to this view everyday.”

“Ugh.” Jack smirks at the perfect upside-down ‘U’ that Vaughn’s mouth morphs into before it disappears under the cartoon stars and planets of his outermost blanket.

When Jack gets back to their dorm after taking a shower, he finds Vaughn spontaneously fully dressed and ready. And by spontaneously, he means about ten minutes - though to be fair it’s probably a record for Vaughn. And by fully dressed and ready he means in the same ripped black skinny jeans he’d been wearing the past three days (and somehow getting away with it even though it’s definitely against dress code - respect), an oversized sweatshirt pulled over his wrinkled shirt and tie, bright blue bedhead that looks a lot like cotton candy, and slightly smeared eyeliner he had seen him applying at about 10:30 the night before. Even though he’d never left the room. Weirdo.

“I can’t believe you’re ready before seven. Am I still asleep?”

“I’m meeting Graham and Namir in ten minutes.”

Jack drops a box on the table. “I stole donuts from some eighth graders. Want some?” Vaughn nods without hesitation and immediately zips over from his desk across the room. He flips the top of the box, pulls out two sprinkled pastries, and begins chowing down like a starving dog.

It will always amaze Jack what Vaughn Belyakov will do for junk food.

“I need to copy your math homework.”

“Seriously?” Vaughn doesn’t wait to finish chewing before talking, so his words are muffled by the donuts in his mouth. “Okay, but you have to come with me then.”

“Just leave it here and I’ll give it to you later.”

“No, I have math first today. You won’t give it to me and then I won’t turn it in on time.”

“Fine, at least let me change first.”

“Ugh, Vaughn, you didn’t say those two were coming along,” Jack groans, pointing at two other guys approaching them. One is tall with dark hair and the other has wild blond curls and a nose tucked in a book as he maneuvers through the bustling courtyard. Vaughn shrugs, both in ignorance and apathy, and leans against Graham’s shoulder.

“Well if it isn’t little John John,” Levi sneers as he approaches the group.

“You weren’t calling me little after practice yesterday, Johnny.”

Graham, Namir, and Isaac groan almost in unison (Vaughn is already dozing off against his boyfriend’s sweatshirt).

“Ew,” Namir complains, flicking his shaggy white bangs out of his eyes. “I don’t care what kind of weird friends-with-benefits thing you two have going on, but I definitely don’t need or want to hear about it.”

“We are definitely not friends,” Levi explains.

“Not at all. It’s a competition thing.”

“Yuck,” chimes in Isaac before plopping down beside Jack on the grass. “That’s way worse.”

“That’s pretty gold coming from you, Zuck,” Jack teases as he leans his body weight against Isaac’s bare arm and lays his palm flat just above his knee. He pretends not to notice he’s done this, revelling in the creeping blush across Isaac’s face that he can see from the corner of his eye.

Messing with Isaac Zuckerman has to be one of Jack’s top ten favorite activities. Definitely below drinking and fighting; probably somewhere around burning things. Feeling Isaac’s body temperature rise against his skin and torching paper in his hand tend to give him the same feeling anyway.

Jack pulls a silver flask out of the front pocket of his beat-up backpack. He can only unscrew the top and press the cold metal against his hot lips before Graham makes his regularly scheduled passive aggressive comment.

“Wow,” he says, ginger eyebrows furrowed together. “What a healthy, balanced breakfast.”

“Thanks, Mom. I would’ve put it in coffee, but someone rushed me out the door so quickly I didn’t have any time to make any. So we’re going straight up today. If anyone sees a professor come out, alert me.” He presses the spout back against his lips. The harsh liquor tears down his throat and Jack savors the burn. Once he swallows, he presses the flask into Isaac’s hand, who follows suit.

“It’s six-thirty AM, you guys,” Vaughn (now mostly awake) lectures through the handful of gummy worms in his mouth.

A pained noise escapes the mouth of their redhaired den mother. “You guys are all huge disasters.”

“That’s why we’re friends, right?” comments Namir as he lights a cigarette.

Once seven rolls around, most of the boys start heading their separate ways to their morning classes. Jack watches the group of them get up and walk away from their spot in the courtyard, but as Isaac starts to finally move to his feet next to him, Jack grabs his arm.

“Hey, you wanna play hooky?”

“Skip class?”

“Duh.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon. I know you hate PE.”

“I don’t hate PE.”

“Yes you do. You hate it because you finish the two mile before everyone and you just sit there and make awkward conversation with Coach Perez. Who is a creep.”

Isaac looks between Jack and the building the other four students are currently walking into. He considers for a moment. Jack thinks it might be the longest Isaac’s ever gone without talking.

“Ok. Fine. Fuck it.”

“Let’s go.”

[gxrbexr-blog]

jacksubjectzero

Waggles eyebrows with an all - tooth grin. “Step a little closer and I’ll check that for the both of us. "Unless you’re afraid of disappointing me.”

"I never said I was afraid, though--you might be disappointed if it's not the gun you were expecting."