#um that killed me actually i'm learning stuff about myself i didn't know before like

[romance-rambles]

AN APPRORIATE STARING DISTANCE

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

— word count: 1.2k

— pairing: [modern] clarence clayden x little painter/you

— tags: romantic fluff, established relationship, takes place during azure island phase 1 [no spoilers for the event stories tho]

— notes: absolutely wild that my first time writing for clarence happens to be modern ver, not archmage!! anyways, this is the screenshot you can blame for this silly lil fic's existence.

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."

[myselfloaf]

11/30/2024 //(weird rant of my life)//

This is the first time I've ever even posted or anything that showed my presence on social media. It's honestly nerve racking trying to come up with something to write, even though it's like my own little diary no one is probably going to see.

Anywho basically i made this account/post on a whim cuz i felt so stressed out/and angry at my life i just wanted a way to vent all my frustration of my stupid meaningless life.

Honestly going to school makes me want to fucking kill myself. I know I'm probably being melodramatic but it's the truth and i know people most likely have it worse than me like you know bully and junk. But i think my problems aren't less than theirs or what i like to make myself believe. Like going to school feels like it's draining my soul and i know i brought it on to myself because i begged to switch to in person school cuz i was doing online schooling. The main reason I wanted to switch was because i felt so damn lonely. I was basically sitting at home not understanding what i was learning all day, all week, all year until summer break came. You're probably wondering oh why did you go out with your friends? Well i'll tell with a heavy god damn heart that i had no friends and the 'friends' i had all ghosted me. It was like a prison and the only two cellmates I had were my sister and depression. And you can tell which one brought me comfort and one that made me go crazy.

Having social anxiety and being socially inept is a deadly combo for trying to make friends. Especially when you're the 'new kid' in a private school where almost everybody knows each other. The first day i stuck out like a sore thumb. An awkward scared looking thumb and my english teacher oh bless her heart she tried to introduce me to the class kind of by asking me what school i went to before. I feel extremely embarrassed to say that i look at her blankly for a few seconds because i stupidly forgot what school i went to before until i said the dreaded words 'O-oh um i w-was homeschooled' i said in a awkward small voice. Dead silence filled the room it was so damn painful sitting in my weird office chair as she looked at as i said 'hail satan'. Thank god she moved and talked about random ass stuff i don't remember. That day was the day I solidified myself as the quiet weird girl no one in my own grade (except for one but i'll talk about them soon).

For days, no weeks nobody talked to me at school. Its not like i was doing myself any favors by not trying to talk to other people. Like people who shared the same interests acted like i didn't exist. People didn't look the same direction as me it felt like i was some ghost roaming the halls. It felt so lonely even embarrassing eating lunch at a table alone and people around me stealing the seats at my table without even asking me it was like they all knew i had no friends. It did help my self esteem clearly i already felt like a loser and like not cared about me except some family members. I kept making excuses for loneliness at school like 'oh its because im new' and 'maybe its because im ugly'. But i realized its most likely because of my social anxiety and I'm not trying to say this as an excuse because im trying to get better by trying to actually open my mouth and speak to others but it's extremely hard. Well i have to say goodbye for now this is getting too long and it's getting late.

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all!              Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 4 "Haunted House" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

A girl died in this tub.

There's no record of any of these names except for one.

Oh, my god, there's two of them!

I own Halloween. It's my jam.

Halloween is the most important day of the year. It's the one day on the Gregorian calendar where you're allowed to go around terrifying children and not be branded a psychopath.

I am a future network news anchor who's super classy and has almost no fat on her body.

A lot of my fans are, like, friendless dumpy coeds at this or that nursing school in one of this country's various national armpits.

They put down their hot pockets and bask in the warm glow of what it feels like to love me.

I went shopping with my comatose grandmother's credit card and bought presents.

Oh, my god, it says my name!

I hope the severed leg brightens up your trailer park.

You're a bright light in my life, and I wanted you to know how much you impress me with your frumpy spirit.

You are so devastatingly mediocre and adorable!

I can't wait to see you in person, but before that, I'd like to see you post this all over social media, to exploit it for my own gain.

Aah! It's a rotting jack-o'-lantern!

Aah! This box is just filled with blood!

She got me a razor apple!

I stole this cadaver head from an ophthalmology student just for you.

You're the most important person in the world.

So you didn't see anyone in a red devil costume entering or leaving the house?

Are you coming to the precinct pig roast this year?

Come on, she's obviously the killer!

Do you mean to suggest I changed out of my nightgown, strapped myself into a skintight pleather red devil costume, climbed out a second-story dormer, and shimmied to the ground with a chain saw before entering a window I had left open, tried to kill you, then leapt out the window, climbed back up the wall, changed back into my nightgown,

and raced downstairs, all in the course of about 90 seconds?

Clearly that's got you a little freaked out.

I'm not gonna hold any of this against you, and I'm gonna let you be my date for the faculty Halloween party.

Attempted murder!

A guy was almost killed tonight, okay?

Now, no, I'm not a detective, hell, I ain't even a cop, but what I am is somebody who watched every one of those Cosby mysteries, okay?

See? Dismemberment!

I am so sorry that I pushed you out of my car and drove off real scared.

I just can't believe that How To Lose A Guy In 10 days is your favorite movie, too.

In precisely two and half minutes when we go in there, you let me do all the talking.

What are you dressed as?

Oh, you have a squirrel. Don't see that much anymore.

Breakfast is almost ready, we got meat today.

What can you tell us about that night?

Now, we will keep your name out of it, of course.

'm a vault,

And to get in this vault you need a key. Now, you may ask, a key to what? It's a key to meaning. Once you've found the meaning, you don't need the words. You know what I'm saying?

Please, continue with your story.

Have any of you ever heard of "negligent homicide"?

We need to dispose of this body on our own. Now, I've got everything we need in the kitchen to make sausages out of her.

I'm gonna go downstairs, shut this party down, and then we'll get the body out of here.

Somebody has to watch after the baby.

Can you at least turn on the radio?

Just leave the details to me.

We can't just act like this never happened.

She's the devil, that one.

I looked at that baby up close. I know my peas and carrots. That baby was a girl.

Your support doesn't matter.

My campaign needs a theme?

My pumpkin's drunk.

I'm hosting a haunted house to raise money for sickle cell anemia.

Why are you holding a fund-raiser, though?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the miscalculation you just made.

I can assure you you will not be winning an election anytime soon. And when you lose, I am gonna make it my lifelong passion to destroy your reputation.

You're a stuck-up little sociopath, and everybody in this room knows it.

It might behoove you to recall that everyone here witnessed you actually murder someone

Just sharpening knives.

Put the knives down.

I don't know what came over me.

How very adolescent of you to think of this.

It vaguely smacks of something my six-year-old sister would be excited about.

It's the most disgusting disease in the history of mankind.

You get it when you don't even understand the most basic tenets of oral hygiene.

Just give the dang thing its pot of gold already!

I ain't got no candy!

Bet you're a sexy dirt-covered girl. That's what I bet you are.

Sometimes I come out here and I just rub my hands on the gravestones.

I get you more than anyone.

I also find the thought of dead bodies extremely arousing.

I just don't understand why I have all these dark feelings.

You know, I just think our generation's had it too easy, you know? We haven't seen enough horrible stuff. There's no awesome diseases randomly killing people. There's not really any awesome wars to go off to and witness horrific things you can't unsee. We, like, pulled out of all of 'em.

Sometimes I just don't even feel like I'm living, you know?

The only time I feel anything is when I'm thinking about chopping up a body.

And here you are, saddled up with an uptight girlfriend who freaked out for no other reason than the fact that you just wanted to fantasize about having sex with her lifeless corpse.

Oh, my god, I got a total chub right now.

Not scary enough.

She'll let you in the back door.

What could be scarier for an adult than a child coming to murder them?

Isn't that all of our greatest fear? That the pain, the regrets, the mistakes of our youth will destroy us in our adulthood? That we can't escape our inner child. One we would rather forget, but who, at the end of the day has all the power.

Why are you lying to me?

Something does not make sense.

You got to give me more here, okay?

I don't understand what you're getting at.

Are you on bath salts?

Why are we even here?

This house is haunted.

There's a legend in this neighborhood about a woman who wailed about her dead children. And this was the house she lived in.

These dumb ol' kids are smoking crack.

I think it's incredible what you can find out with just a quick trip down to your local library.

This can be one of the rooms for the haunted house.

What exactly do you plan on doing at this haunted house?

I was thinking we could blindfold folks and make 'em put their hands in a bowl full of grapes we peeled, so it'll feel like eyeballs.

I think the reason you want to have a haunted house party is 'cause a haunted party is like a buffet for murderers.

Yeah, yeah, you can just go around killing anybody you want and ain't nobody even gonna even notice.

Just like you chopped the arms off that dumb-ass golf guy.

Why do you have it out for me?

So now you look at me and see everything you could've been.

I hope you have a good time at you haunted party and get to murder lots of folks.

You have this way too thought out.

Isn't this kind of nice?

My sense of personal identity is completely external.

I really don't have much to offer.

I've found that my particular style of speaking and gesticulation is extremely off-putting to most boys. And girls. And anyone.

I need to eat. My blood sugar is crashing.

I'm tired of depriving myself of joy and sustenance.

I may die at the end of a serial killer's blade, but I refuse to die hungry.

Which one of you ladies would like to be my costume for Halloween? I'm going as "dude having awesome sex with you."

I mean, what in the hell's wrong with the world where a guy can't even whistle at a chick just to tell her she looks hot?

I recently took a women's studies class. Yes, because it was a requirement, but I learned a lot anyways. Like the culture that says it's okay for a man to objectify a woman for her appearance is the same culture that pressures girls as young as ten to have eating disorders.

So you're basically saying I'm the one responsible for making you look hot?

When you treat us like meat, you're no better than him!

I'm not really sure how you got my number, but I like how you took the initiative and texted me where you wanted us to meet.

Do you think you're man enough to take me inside that house and attack my crack?

I'll sure this house has an amazingly romantic basement.

Hey, so, uh, a little awkward since we're about to bone down and everything, but, um, what's your name?

Smells like roadkill.

I've never been so scared in my whole life.

All right, if we go to the police, they're gonna see I'm still rocking a mad sidepipe, and they're gonna think I had something to do with it.

We have to warn people.

All right, everybody listen up! All of your lives are in danger!

There are dead bodies! Dead bodies. Real-life dead bodies.

Did you say dead bodies?

Those are like the most lifelike dead bodies I've ever seen.

Is that a real dead body?

There are five dead bodies in that house. Laid out in horrible and deliberate macabre poses.

You are not leaving this house tonight.

You make it harder and harder to believe that you're not the killer.

I found out something really interesting, and now I have a theory.

Everything is weird about that story.

I mean, it's too big a coincidence.

We have to figure out who that woman was.

[dingobabywrites]

 so, in light of recent events, people have been discussing when they think Dean and Cas realized that they were in love with each other. While I 100% believe dean realized in purgatory, I dont think Castiel realized until Dean broke Naomi's connection.

BUT!!!!

I also think that is around the same time Sam realized it too. Obviously Charlie already knew ( " what about Castiel, he seems helpful and..Dreamy" she's a lesbian. That comment wasn't for Her!") I think Charlie was the one to point it out to sam and I think the two of them agreed to keep it to themselves since neither of those two would have been able to handle that information. So, I wrote a little thing about how I think it went down.

I also wanted to give myself an explanation for those wierd looks and mystery note from the end of the episode...so yeah...here's that.

Sam hobbled down the hall to the guest room, his hand still throbbing from knocking Dean unconcious . It was…worrisome, to say the least, that he was having this much trouble with healing from such a minor injury, not to mention the other things that were happening to his body; the fatigue, coughing up blood. Troubling, but, as much as he hated to admit it, worth it. Dean had been pissing him off more than usual lately anyway. It wasn't just the trials. Sure, he was frustrated with Dean for thinking he wasn't strong enough to handle them (he had fought against Lucifer in his own mind for christ's sake) but it was everything else too. His loyalty to Benny still didn't sit right with him. He had been so quick to kill Amy, just because she was a monster. He didn't care that she was just feeding her kid. She was just a monster to him. But for some reason, Benny got a pass. Sure, the guy saved both their asses, he was grateful for that, but even Bobby knew it was wrong.

And then there was Cas.

 

Sam wanted nothing more, than to tell Dean that he should have learned his lesson the first time with the Angel. It wasn't like he didn't like Castiel. Of course he did. He was appreciative of everything the guy had done for them. Dean was right that he had saved their asses more than once. It was just….at the end of the day, whether they liked him or not, Castiel had betrayed them. He understood that perfectly. What he couldn't understand, was why dean was so suprised by him doing it again. Hell, Dean had been the one to bring up that fact that the guy wasn't acting right since he got back and yet, there he was, praying to him, putting his trust in him again. It was maddening, to say the least. He had tried to talk to his brother about it, but Dean immediately shut down.

So, yeah, his hand was still hurting, but it was damn worth it.

He turned the corner to find Charlie stuffing her things into her duffle. He knocked on the door frame with his uninjured hand. "Hey, there."

"Sam." She half smiled, when she turned around, her eyes still a little bleary from crying. "Hi, I'm just…just packing up to head out and…" she sniffled and plopped down on the bed, covering her face as she began crying anew.

Sam walked into the room and pulled up the desk chair, sitting down in front of her. "Dean told me what happened, while you two were under." He said. "I am so sorry about your mom, Charlie." He placed his hand on her shoulder as she began crying harder. "I know how hard it is to let go like that…"

"Dean was right," she sniffed. "I needed to stop holding on."

Sam let out a bitter scoff and pulled his hand back, squeezing both hands between his legs. "Yeah, Dean's always right, isn't he? Too bad he can't follow his own advice."

Charlie looked up, her eyes sad and confused. "Holding on to my mom was the reason I was stuck there. If he hadn't made me let go, I would have died.we both would have."

Sam shook his head at himself, trying his damndest to let go of his own bitterness to be there for his friend. "Ya, I know. I'm sorry…just…I know you're hurting right now, I just want you to know I'm here for you."

Charlie sniffed again, wiping her arm across her face to dry it before leaning back and staring at Sam. "I don't get it." She said, as firmly as possible.

Sam, leaned back and shrugged. "Me neither, really. I always thought all djinn fed off happiness. It's like every time we figure stuff out, something new comes along to throw us off our game."

"Not that." Charlie said, waving his statement off. Sam looked at her, confused, not sure what she was referring to. She took a breath and pulled a book out of her duffle throwing it on Sam's lap. 'Mystery Spot' By Carver Edlund. "You say these books happened in real life. That everything written in them actually went down…but the past two times I've been around you guys…you certainly dont act like you do in the books."

Sam skimmed the first page of the book and chuckled, tossing it back on the bed next to Charlie. "Yeah, well, things have just been different, I guess."

"So, you used to love and support each other, no matter what and now you just, what? Stopped?" She asked.

"It's…" Sam scoffed and shook his head. "things are just, more complicated now…"

"You maybe, wanna elaborate there buddy?" She asked. "I may be a genius, but a mind reader, I am not."

Sam let out a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He figured it might feel better to at least get something off his chest. "To be honest Charlie, I dont think Dean is cut out for the job anymore."

"Why not?"

"His judgment, for one thing." Sam answered. "I don't know, just ever since he got back from purgatory… he's been…it's like he can't think straight anymore. He used to be no nonsense when it came to killing monsters and only trusting people he knew he could trust and now… I mean, I get it. Purgatory was rough on him, but the guy has literally been to Hell and back. I don't see why this time is any different."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked softly.

"I mean like, being friends with a freaking vamp." Sam answered, coldly. "Yeah, Benny wasn't like the others, and I get the whole 'brother's in arms' aspect, but it still doesn't make sense." He waved his hand, gesturing back at the book before letting it drop. "That Dean? That Dean would have never put his trust in a monster. That Dean wouldn't let people back into his life that had screwed him over, and now…I don't know, now it's like he just doesn't care about letting people in that who could hurt him, or…people who already have."

"So, it's not just about the vampire." Charlie said. "Who else has Dean been trusting that you don't think he should?"

Sam gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Cas really messed him up Charlie. I mean, the guy already turned his back on us once and Dean just let him back into our lives like nothing even happened."

"Ah." Charlie said, with complete understanding. "Okay, I get it now."

"Get what?" Sam asked.

"I get why Dean has been acting wierd, duh." She said, like it was obvious. Sam sat, staring at her, trying to peice together what puzzle she seemed to have completed. "Oh, my God. Do you really not see it?" Charlie laughed.

"Um, no?" Sam said, skeptically.

"Wow," she scoffed. "And here I thought you were the observant one." Sam waited for her to explain herself, still utterly lost on what she was talking about. "It's Castiel." She said, speaking to him as if he were a child.

"What about him?" Sam asked, hoping like hell that she wasn't talking about the angel brainwashing his brother or something.

"I've read the books, Sam." She said. "I know all about Dean's special Angel friend."

"No." Sam shook his head. "No, chuck stopped writing after Dean went to hell. There's no way you could have a read anything about Cas."

Charlie scrunched her face and bobbed her head back and forth. "Mmmm, not exactly." She reached into her bag and pulled put her laptop, turning it on. "Remember how I said the books were online now?" Sam nodded waiting for her to continue. "Okay, dont get mad," she said as she typed "but, he may have kept writing a little bit longer than you thought…."

"He what?!" Sam said, furious. They had told that dick to knock it off after that stupid convention."How long?"

"Relax." She said, scrolling through some page on her screen. "He stopped after you sacrifice yourself to Hell, actually. It was beautifully written by the way, super emotional, but no one has seen or heard from him since."

'Good!' Sam thought to himself. He felt a little bad for that thought, since Kevin was now the prophet it meant that the reason no one had heard from Chuck was likely because he was dead, but at least no one else could know more about their lives than they already did. "Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Dean? Why would Cas be the reason he's acting wierd?"

Charlie sighed, cringing to her self a little. "Well, as you already know, where there's a fandom, there's most likely fanfiction…"

"I'm aware." Sam said, peeved by the memory of stumbling upon the fanfiction written about him and Dean.

"Look, I'm not saying anything is definite, but alot of people who write fanfiction are really good at reading between the lines." She clicked her mouse a few times before closing her laptop and setting it back in her bag. "I mean, I've read all the books myself, and I totally know that you guys are real people and not some fictional characters, and it's completely not okay to speculate on your lives and feelings or whatever...but I mean, it's kinda hard not to see where they're all coming from."

"What are you talking about, Charlie?"

"Dean said that Benny helped him fight through purgatory, right?" She said. "He met him pretty early on in his time there, no?"

"Yeah," Sam said, still completely bemused, "I guess…Dean hasn't really talked a lot about what happened while he was there. He told me some things, but he never really went into detail."

Charlie nodded and shrugged sheepishly before continuing. "Okay, so he met Benny early on, and Benny told him he had a way to get back, right off the bat. So, why did it take them so long to get out of there?"

"Dean said he spent alot of his time searching for Cas." Sam answered.

"Exactly!" She exclaimed, like that should have been the answer.

"I'm sorry Charlie, I still don't understand what you're getting at here."

"Sam, he could've come back at any point after meeting Benny. They only spent as much time as they did together, because Dean wanted to bring Castiel back with him. Even after everything he did. Don't you think that's a little…suspicious?"

"That's exactly what I've been saying!" Sam said. "Why would he do that?!"

"Yeah, Sam, why?" She said, still trying to lead him. "Why would someone run back into a fire, when they have a way out? I mean, I think you, of all people, would know the answer to that."

Sam gaped at her in shock. It took a minute for him to register what she was implying, but once he did… "Charlie, that's…"

"Just a thought!" She defended before he finished. "I'm just saying that Dean doesn't normally put his trust in people. Except, maybe…the people he REALLY cares about and the people that protect them. Maybe there's more to the story when it comes to his trust in Benny than you thought. I definitely feel like there's more when it comes to Castiel."

"Charlie, come on." Sam laughed a little. " You know Dean. He's…"

"More complicated than people give him credit for." Charlie cut him off. "He also knows how hard it is to let go of the people he loves. He's actually really bad at it. Maybe, worse than you know."

"Charlie," Sam started, before being cut off once more.

"He's definitely more concerned about you than you think." Charlie said firmly, standing up as she did. She began packing once more, keeping her eyes averted from Sam's. "He's not trying to control you, you know. He raised you, Sam. You mean alot to him. You ever think for a moment that he's just really scared for you? Scared of losing you? I mean, back to my point, he is really bad at losing people."

Sam sat in silence, petulantly mulling over Charlie's words. She was right, probably. Dean may have been scared, but it was still possible that he just couldn't hack the life anymore. Sam wasn't some child. And the other stuff she was saying…she was way off base. There was a big difference between reading about someone's and living it.

"I sent you the link to the website I used to read the books." Charlie said as she zipped up her bags. She slung her backpack over her shoulder crossing her arms as she stared him down. "I know you lived through it all and everything, but not every part was about you. There's a few things you may have missed."

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen." Sam shook his head.

"Just a suggestion." She shrugged. "It might open your eyes to a few things you don't understand. I get not wanting to relive those times but…if you ever decide that's something you might wanna do, hit me up. I can tell you what chapters to skip, or whatever. And, if your really curious about Dean's relationship to Castiel, 'On the Head of a Pin' is a good place to start. The torture chapters are pretty rough, and I know you'll want to skip over your parts…but the other stuff.…" she shrugged.

"Okay." He said, at a loss for more words than that.

"You ready to roll?" Dean said, from the doorway, knocking on the door frame before entering the room.

"Looks, like it." Charlie smiled up at him as he entered.

"I didn't interrupt anything did I?" Dean asked looking between her and Sam with concern written all over his face. "You guys look a little spooked."

"Ew, gross, no." Charlie said, scrunching her face at Dean's implications. "Sam, was just helping me with my bags. Right Sam?"

"Uh, yeah…" Sam said, standing up and grabbing her duffle off the bed.

"Eh, come on, you know I'm just teasin ya!" Dean chuckled, jabbing her on the shoulder playfully. "He may have the hair, but the body parts are all wrong, right?"

"Definitely." Charlie agreed.

"Come on." Dean said, tilting his head toward the door. He waited for Charlie to leave the room, then cast a skeptical glance at Sam before following after. Sam was sure he was in for an earful after she left. He began dreading it as he said his goodbyes, anticipating the lecture as he told Charlie she was welcome to comeback at anytime. But it wasn't the only thing on his mind now. After bidding Charlie farewell, he went inside, giving the two of them their time alone. He hesitated for a moment, convinced that the trials were seriously messing with his head if he was even considering this. Then again…

He headed to the library, grabbing a peice of paper and a pen on his way and sat down. 'This is just stupid.' He thought to himself as he wrote down the words 'On the Head of a Pin'. He heard the bunker door open. Dean walked up, the look on his face telling Sam that it was time for his ass- chewing, so he decided to cut it off before it could start.

He clicked the pen closed and stood up, ready to defend his actions. "Okay, look you were right. I-I should laid low. I-I know." He said as Dean approached him."I should have hung back. I'm glad I was able.."

Then Dean grabbed him. Then Dean pulled him into a hug. It wasn't at all what he was expecting. He was lost, but relieved and hugged his brother back.

Dean chuckled and patted his back before pulling away. "What do you say we find our prophet?." Dean smiled, before smaking him in the chest and walking away.

Sam was left to himself, completely bewildered by what had just occurred. Dean had certainly not been acting like himself, but this was a whole new level. Maybe there was some truth to Charlie's words? Maybe he really was just scared? Maybe Sam really didn't know everything about his brother. Now, wasn't the time to think about that, though. Dean was right, the had to look for Kevin. They had work to do. Research.

But Dean had to sleep at some point. Maybe Sam could do a little light reading in that time.

If Charlie was right about Dean being scared for him, who knew what else she was right about?

[funtimebunnyblog]

Diamante d’Italia: Chapter 1

After his Father "generously gave" the teenager a whopping amount of money Josuke finds himself vacationing in beautiful southern Italy.

However, being the trouble magnet he is, he ends up getting caught in Famiglia affairs.

Being so far from his home and his friends, Josuke needs to make some powerful allies to help him out of this mess...

(Chapter 1: Culture shock)

"--and remember to-"

"Yes Mom. I know." Josuke sighed into the phone, rolling his eyes. "I've got everything on me. You know I can protect myself."

They'd had this exact same phone conversation at every other airport he had called from so far. By now the teenager had memorized it all and knew exactly what his Mother was going to say.

Standing in the airport of Naples Italy wouldn't make a difference.

"Ok. But just be careful Josuke. Italy is so far from here." She said over the background clatter. "And you don't even know any Italian."

There was a crackle over the phone as she sighed, he could hear the sounds of dishes clinking in the background followed by running water.

He almost had to plug his other ear to drown out the loud voice on the intercom so he could hear her talking.

"...I know Tonio."

"That joke was horrible, Josuke."

If there wasn't the sound of dishes still being done, he would've been sure his Mother had hung up on him.

There were no words exchanged for at least a full 10 seconds and with each passing second the teenager tried harder and harder to contain every giggle that tried to escape his lips, waiting with baited breath on her reaction.

The teenager couldn't hold in his laughter anymore, wheezing a little as he leaned on the glass wall of the phonebooth.

"I know." He cackled. "But it's kinda true. Tonio told me so much about Italy! It can't be that bad here..."

A change of scenery would do him good. Especially after all he had been through in the past little while with all that serial killer mess.

He had been daydreaming about this trip, this place, but most importantly; the cuisine, for almost a month now.

After his Father so generously "gave" him his wallet upon departure of Morioh, Josuke Higashikata decided it was time for him to see some of the world.

It was definitely time for a vacation and what better place to visit than the country with food that made Okuyasu and him squabble over every single morsel cooked and served to them by Tonio.

He earned a punch to the shoulder however from Okuyasu after telling him the news. His friend wasn't spiteful however and laughed, telling him that he could finally have Tonio and his fine chef skills all to himself while he was away.

Neither of them had really looked at "normal" food that same way after tasting fine Italian food so he couldn't think of a better place to go for some rest and relaxation.

He had also heard that Italy held some beautiful sights.

Josuke promised to bring him home a shitload of souvenirs anyways. He was also considering getting something for Koichi and his Mom back home.

There was another crackle over the phone along with the running water in the background suddenly being turned off, making it a little easier to hear the woman as she spoke.

"If you say so..."

It also made it easier to hear the undeniable concern lacing her tone however.

"Say, what time is it over there anyways Mom?" He questioned, mostly out of curiosity, but also for the sake of taking his Mothers mind off of any worries she held for him.

"Just after 5." She answered with a hum, the sound of a plug being pulled and a draining sink accompanying it.

"Oh wow!" He blinked, peering out off the glass booth to squint at the overly large clock of the airport terminal. "It's only 10AM over here."

"If you're going to call home, please do it around this time Josuke." She told him, a laugh lacing her voice as she spoke. "I wouldn't appreciate being woken up by the phone at 3AM."

The Highschooler laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. He should probably write that down just in case he forgot, the last thing he wanted was to be screamed at by his Mother over the phone for waking her up in the middle of the night.

"Right..." he murmured. "Anyways. I should probably go now Mom. I'll call you from a Hotel or something tomorrow."

"Ok Josuke."

He could hear her hesitation to let him go in her voice alone.

"I'll be fine. I love you Mom. Talk soon!"

"I love you too."

He hung up the phone at last, a small smile gracing his lips.

Gripping the handle of his luggage tightly, he stepped out of the booth with his head held high.

He was worried about his Mother too of course. She was going through a lot too, especially when she was still grieving for his Grandfather.

However, once he was in possession of his newly aquired money (not stolen! Where would you get that idea?) He had given her a good portion of it and told her to spend the time he was away getting her nails done or treating herself in anyway she saw fit. She needed this little break as much as he did.

"Time to find a cab."

☆☆☆

Easier said than done.

Here he was on a sidewalk, finally into the City after nearly 2 hours of waiting for an open taxi to take him from the airport to the city, his pompador all in a stressful ruffle over the whole ordeal.

His eyes darted back and forth between the outstretched hand of the driver and the meter on the dashboard.

"120 000 Lira?!" He squawked at the cab driver, his aquamarine eyes going wide in their sockets as the man held out his hand before him.

Josuke wasn't exactly a mathematician, but he knew enough to know that amount was absurd! "Th-there's gotta be some mistake, sir! You only drove me to the edge of the city."

This was highway robbery (no pun intended), there was no way it could've been that much!

The taxi driver had rolled his eyes at him and told him otherwise, demanding he pay up or he'd drag him straight to the Police Officers who were standing idle near the Cab on the streetcorner.

Josuke peered into his wallet with a sigh from where he sat on the curb. Damnit. He'd have to think twice about taking another cab. He only had so much money to blow, necessary expenses like food and hotelrooms were his main priority, and he still needed a ticket home to Japan when all of this was over.

He'd just have to settle for walking the entire time he was here.

He tucked his wallet away safely, flicking out a comb and began to straighten out the poof of hair he so adored. He'd have to put some more hairspray in it later if things kept going like this, good thing he packed 8 whole cans.

His Lunchhour.

He stood up, grabbing his suitcase once more and keeping it close to his side.

"Well... I guess it's time to find a hotel." He mused. His thoughts were interrupted however by a punctuating growl of his stomach. He hadn't eaten much on the plane at all and from the position of the overhead sun, he could tell it was noontime.

"Ooh." He breathed, a hand moving to his stomach in surprise. "I'm running on empty..."

However, maybe it was better to ask for directions.

He supposed a Hotel would have to wait. What he really needed right now was a restaurant.

From all the stories Tonio told him about Italian cuisine and the entire culture behind it, he was sure it wouldn't be too hard to find one of those around here.

"Um- excuse me--" he tried to grab the attention of a passing man. The guy kept on walking without even giving him a side glance.

Another man approached him from behind and Josuke turned, stepping in front of him somewhat to gain his attention.

"Er... oh! Sir! A moment please, I'm--"

There went another one, very much like the first.

"Excuse me sir, could you tell me--" he started again. The man stopped in his tracks, nearly bumping right into Josuke.

"Ey! What gives?!"

"Outta my way, bastardo!"

The Highschool student barely had a chance to blink before the guy was right in his face, a fierce scowl pulling on his face.

If looks could kill, Josuke would be getting murdered in that moment.

The man grunted and shoved him further out of his way, balling his fists and grumbling to himself, too low for Josuke to hear, but the teen knew it was all in fluent Italian.

He held up his free hand in surrender, backing up and out of the way of the angry stranger.

"S-Sorry sir!" He practically squeaked. "I... I didn't mean to bother you!"

He rubbed his arm, a frown found its way to his face as he watched the furious mans back.

Sheesh. And here he thought he had been in a rough town back in Japan.

Maybe he should just start walking...

☆☆☆

He was starting to wish he took some language courses with Koichi in this years last term.

Or maybe he could've learned some basic words and stuff from Tonio, the man always seemed eager to share in the wonders of his culture after all.

Or maybe he could've not been an absolute dumbass and bought an Italian to English dictionary to use.

Or worse.

Josuke had been walking up and down the streets for nearly an hour, passing by buildings and signs galore, none of which he could read.

He was tempted to stop another stranger to ask what any of them meant, or even just plain ask where the nearest restaurant was, but he didn't want to get screamed at again.

Staring at the signs like a toddler who didn't know how to read but was trying made it all the worse.

"This is hopeless..." he grumbled, kicking at the sidewalk, sending a small stone bouncing down the white concrete.

He was actually contemplating calling his Mother again to ask her what he should do.

Maybe he could even call Tonio. Or Koichi. Or Okuyasu. Or his Nephew. Or fuck, ANYONE at this point.

Maybe he shouldn't have traveled alone and brought one of them along...

He had a feeling this was going to be a long day and he dug in his coat, whipping out his comb again. His pompadour was getting all ruffled again.

"Ei, tu."

He paused. Did someone... speak to him?

"Um... Hello?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you say something?"

Frowning, he turned to locate the voice, finding himself facing an alleyway that lead off the street.

A figure stood there, leaned against the brick wall of a building, their eyes gleaming at him. There were others too, just two others, all of them looking at him.

The one closest to the alley entrance, a tall thinner male, looked him up and down, "Sei il ragazzo?" A question of some sort.

The one who spoke sported disheveled brown hair and clothes that were even more so, with strange sunken in eyes that seemed to hold a never ending stare. His two friends were not much different, they all had that same stare and it was locked firmly onto him.

Josuke frowned a little deeper, he didn't really understand what the man wad saying. Did he want something? Or maybe... was he trying to help him?

The Highschool student looked around before stepping into the alley, closing the distance between him and the group.

"Um... I'm sorry I don't understand." He flashed an awkward smile, looking between the three men hoping that someone could understand him or at least translate. "Can any of you help...?"

It sort of reminded Josuke of when he ate his Lunch at the neighborhood park back in Morioh.

The dogs that hung out around there would all approach him, then sit and watch, with their ears up and their backs straight, unblinking and expecting him to give them a piece of his sandwich.

He always thought it was a little creepy, but it was even creepier somehow to see it in a person.

The brown haired one pointed to the suitcase he held, "É questo?" That sounded like another question to him.

This was getting nowhere. He heaved out a sigh, throwing his hands up as he began to back away. "Sorry. I have no idea what you're saying... I-I really got to go."

The more he backed up, the more the blankness of stares seemed to disolve into... anger?

Yeah, suddenly these guys were looking pissed. All three of them were staring even more intensely into him, most especially the brown haired one.

"Prendetelo!" One of the others barked.

"Dacci le maledette droghe, cazzone!" The brunet man screeched and Josuke realized there was a fist coming for him. He stepped back quickly, the closed hand swooping loudly through the air, barely gracing his chest.

What was happening? Why were these men suddenly after him? Josuke barely had the time to consider the options of running away or trying to talk his way out of all of this mess before he was suddenly on the ground.

"Darlo a noi!"

They tried to pull the leather bag from his grasp and he pulled back harder, now full on clutching it to his chest as the fists now rained down on him.

Josuke couldn't even cry out. Everything was happening all at once. His thoughts were loud and his heartbeat was louder. The noise around him had gone to nothing but whitenoise. His only thought was to not let them take his suitcase.

And then... it all stopped. Just as quickly as it happened.

The teenager opened his eyes to find that all the kicking and punching had ceased on him. One of the men was on the ground and there was another person standing over them, yelling into his face.

But here he was. Defending a fucking stranger from a group of junkies.

Leone Abbacchio hated getting involved with common street fights. He hated it especially more when he was supposed to NOT be fighting someone today.

It was his day off after all. Bucciarati told him he could spend his time how he wanted it and he wanted some alone time.

All the Mafioso wanted to do was listen to his damn music and get some lunch when he noticed this damn idiot (obviously a tourist) trying to converse with the men.

'Just keep walking.' He tried to tell himself over and over, trying to pacify the unease building in him.

It wasn't his affair.

This was their problem.

He was a bystander.

He wasn't even in the alley.

He was on his way somewhere.

He shouldn't even give it a passing glance....

And then he watched the punk get knocked to the ground.

Now here he was, kicking the shit out of a damn dirty junkie.

Josuke winced at he the sound of a fist hitting hard against a nose, the crackle of bone filling his ears.

"FUCK OFF!"

One of the men who had been attacking him came up behind the silver haired figure and threw his arms around him in an attempt to pull him down.

Abbacchio didn't even flinch and hauled the man forward, bending so he came right over his head and smacked into the brunet who was holding the nose that was gushing with red blood.

He definitely owned up to his name then and there because to Josuke his gruff and booming voice was like the roar of a powerful Lion.

That was all it took. All three of them were clamoring to their feet and booking it down towards the other end of the alley.

It sort of reminded Josuke of that time he broke that seniors nose.

Thank God his hair was still ok though, after checking quickly he sighed in pure relief. That was truly what mattered to him, along with his luggage.

His eyes turned to his savior and he slowly got up from the hard ground, wincing as he did.

He was definitely going to hurt in the morning. He could already feel a bruise spotting on the center of his back.

"Th... Thank you." He spoke at last watching as the new stranger turned to face him at last. "I just wanted to ask for directions but I didn't know what they wanted..."

The duel coloured eyes of the man burned into him as he looked over him, making the high schooler start to sweat under the penetrating gaze.

"You... seem familiar." Abbacchio said at length. He had seen someone before with the same kinda face, he was sure of it. He squinted at the Highschool student as he wracked his brain for answers.

The teenager was sure of that. He was sure he would've remembered this man purely by the way he looked, let alone the strong and intimidating presence that radiated off him, if he had even glanced in his direction before.

Josuke blinked, his expression not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Um... we've never met before."

Abbacchio rolled his eyes. "Tch. No shit." He spat. "I've never seen you before either stronzo. You just seem kinda familiar."

Josuke winced slightly, averting his eyes to the ground lamely.

"Sorry."

He really hoped this guy could take a joke. He just got off the ground and didn't want to be thrown back down onto it.

He really was. For what exactly, he wasn't sure, but apologies always spilled from your lips in these kind of situations, regardless of whether you did something or not.

He broke off into an awkward laugh, shrugging as he struggled to meet the mans gaze. "I'm the only one I know who has such stylish hair like this so I don't know what would seem familiar to you."

"Whatever." The Goth finally said, shaking his head. "Judging by what just happened I can tell you're not from around here. You a tourist or something kid?"

Abbacchio folded his arms, looking him up and down again, making him painfully aware of more sweat beading on his neck.

This man was so hard to read to Josuke, kind of like his nephew in that way, he had no idea what the hell he was thinking.

"Oh sure am!" Josuke smiled brightly, a little more at ease. This guy was making some small talk with him, which was usually a step in a good direction.

A direction where he hoped he wouldn't get beat up and almost mugged again...

"I'm kinda on a vacation. I got some money and decided I wanted to see the world..." He rocked on his heels a little, studying the man before him just as much as he was him. "You live around here?"

"You could say that..." Abbacchio hummed, glancing back towards the street. "I don't exactly have a home but I live here."

"Oh!" Josuke had to refrain himself from covering his mouth after letting out that noise in surprise. He averted his gaze, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh." He said, much softer this time, feeling very awkward. If only he had the ability to make the ground swallow him up. "I'm sorry...."

Leone offered no response.

"Do you like... have a place to sleep at least? Like at nights?"

"Yeah. I tend to move around a lot though." He answered vaguely. Best to keep all that extra information to himself. This brat didn't need to know the ins and outs of his life.

He nodded this time, because he did. He mostly slept at Bucciarati's house, whether upstairs in one of the guestrooms or on the mans couch downstairs.

Sometimes when out on missions, whether alone or with the others, he checked into a hotel (sometimes a Motel) and stayed there.

Other times he slept in the back of a van while on the road to or from said missions.

At least he wasn't drinking himself to death somewhere in the gutter anymore...

He turned his gaze back to Josuke who seemed a little more at ease hearing his words. He narrowed his eyes, "You're not.... in the Famiglia? Are you?"

Josuke blinked a few times. The.... what?

"Fam-eel-e-ah?"

That alone answered his question.

Who the hell other than a Mafioso sported a fucking pompadour?!

Raising one pointed eyebrow, he looked the kid over again. He never would've guessed he wasn't associated because he certainly dressed like a Mafioso.

What with that black coat adorned with those shiny golden hearts, not to mention the peace sign and the anchor as well, and that hair...

This twerp apparently...

Abbacchio huffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Nevermind. Just... watch yourself Kid. More importantly, watch your wallet."

Oh Christ! His wallet! He might've dropped it in that scuffle! Those bastards might've took it!

Josuke panicked, hands instinctively slapping his pockets in a frantic search. Ah! It was there! As soon as his hand found the bulge in his pocket, he let out a breath as relief washed over him like a warm tidalwave on the beach.

"Oh- yeah, yeah... of course." He breathed. "Th-Thanks for reminding me-" here he paused, his pale blue eyes blinking. "I never... got your name."

To his own surprise, Abbacchio complied.

"Abbacchio." He said. "Leone Abbacchio."

"Abbacchio..." Josuke tested the name out, bobbing his head as he idly scratched his chin. "Ha! Cool name. I'm Josuke Higashikata, I actually come from Japan."

The dawny eyed mans frown deepened as he contemplated telling him that his last name literally just meant "lambchop", a far cry from "cool" if you asked him, but he thought better of it.

Yeah. There was no way in Hell Abbacchio was going to try and take a crack at repeating that last name. He'd be there all day.

Just "Josuke" would have to do.

"Japan, huh?" He said aloud, more to himself than Josuke, stroking his chin in thought. "I hear the streets are much nicer there..."

The events of the past couple of months suddenly came flooding back all at once to Josuke. How he and his friends had been attacked left and right, going against all odds, all on a search to hunt down their towns serial killer.

The blaring siren of that Ambulance still haunted him in his sleep and he woke up in a cold sweat each time there came the sound of a head being popped each time it replayed in his head.

He laughed a little, forcing a smile on his face as a hand swept through his hair. "Yeah... you could say that."

Now desperate to change the subject, he decided to steer the conversation to something much lighter. Something that didn't make him remember a massacre.

Or a hand-fetishing serial killer getting his head squashed like a grape.

"You've... got quite the fashion sense." He commented, pointing to the mans open coat lined with laces and purple lipstick maybe a little rudely. "I like your eyeliner."

Leone hardly batted an eye (a well lined eye at that) at his words. If anything, he was surprised the kid didn't outright say anything like "ARE YOU A GOTH?!"

He was quite used to that one, even if the answer was yes it was still irritating.

Besides... that one little girl on the bus that time told him he looked pretty. And that was enough for him.

Or there was always the "Why are you wearing makeup? You're a MAN!"

Now that one always made him fucking furious. Just because he was "a man" didn't make any damn difference. Makeup was to make you look good so it was for everyone.

"Thanks." He huffed. Though his voice hadn't lost any of that gruffness, he truly was thankful for a genuine compliment. "I like your coat."

He wasn't quite like Koichi however. The silver haired teenager thst only came up to his hip wore his heart on his sleeve everywhere he went.

Josuke, very unlike Abbacchio who seemed indifferent to it all, blushed at the praise. His friends always told him he was very expressive and that was true.

When he was happy he walked with bounce in his step, when he was sad it all came out in tears and when he was angry... oh... he was told the sight wasn't very pretty.

"Ah, thanks. It's my school uniform, I really like it."

Here Abbacchios eyebrows shot right up, a frown twinging at the corners of his mouth. A school uniform? This kid must have been living some kind of high life, or maybe at least went to a pretty decent school, if this was just a plain old uniform.

He pursed his lips, the punk kind of reminded him of a stand-user. He had a hunch.

"I see..." he hummed, folding his arms across his chest. "You really are still just a kid then."

Bucciarati often said that stand-users (natural or otherwise) tended to gravitate towards one another. Like "strings of fate" or some cliché sounding shit.

But maybe it was possible. This kid wasn't a Mafioso... but he could very well have powers.

Like lightning striking, Josukes expression changed again. His eyebrows went together and his lips into a sort of a pout.

"I'm 16." He told the man, trying to sound as rough and tough at least as half as this stranger was (Abbacchio quirked an eyebrow, looking completely unfazed at his attempt however, probably because he just watched him get beat up). "Besides. I think I'm pretty mature..."

"I won't call you a kid if you don't call me an old man. Deal?"

This kid was starting to kinda sound like Mista. However if the punk started spewing shit about how the number 4 was unlucky, he would get as far away as possible.

He half chuckled (it was more of an exhale), coloured lips quirking somewhat into a smirk.

Josuke shrugged, uncrossing his arms as his lips pulled into a smirk of their own, cocking an eyebrow at the other.

"Hmm, depends. How old are you?" He questioned, almost playfully. The man must have been at least approaching his 30's but he wasn't sure.

"Well into my 20's." Abbacchio grunted, keeping his exact age number vague to the young teen. "But I've seen more shit than other people do in a lifetime."

For all he know he really could be an old man. He had white hair after all and certainly had the gruffness of an older man.

Maybe he was hiding some wrinkles under that makeup or something?

Only in his 20's? Jeeze... he believed that last part. Most especially when the dawny eyes suddenly locked onto his, staring at him with all seriousness.

"Listen to me, I don't really care what the Hell you do, but when you get out of school... stay away from the bad stuff. You hear me?"

Josuke swallowed, his mouth now felt way too dry, and he nodded to the man almost knowingly. He had been through some bads too... however, he couldn't help but wonder how much similarities there were between him and Abbacchio.

Leone huffed quietly, giving the kid one more solemn nod, before turning on his heel and quietly going on his way down the alley, out towards the street.

The teenager watched him go, feeling painfully out of place all of a sudden, like a puzzle piece that had been jammed into the wrong spot.

"Uh- hey!"

He didn't even realize that he had called out until Abbacchio halted in his tracks, turning to look at him with a deep frown.

Josuke fidgeted on the spot, stuffing his hands in his pockets to avoid fumbling with them out in the open and look somewhat composed under the older mans stare.

Once again, Leone Abbacchio found himself feeling surprised.

"Uhh..." he cleared his throat, trying to focus his thoughts clear enough to speak without stuttering.

"This might sound kinda weird but -uh... you wanna... like grab a coffee or something?" He smiled sheepishly at the man whose expression didn't change. "I mean, you just kinda saved my skin back there and you seem pretty cool. I don't have anybody traveling with me and... we could like... talk more? Ah- only if you don't mind!"

Ah, fuck it. He had already gone out of his way.

Normally when he was out and about and people were forced to interact with him in any way, shape or form, they tended to want to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible.

Hell, he had people practically jump out of his way sometimes when he was just walking down the street.

Plus, he was getting hungry.

He nodded to Josuke.

Josuke was now jogging up to him, the man swore he saw stars in the teens eyes to match his bright smile.

Tonio definitely didn't tell him that part about Italy...

He wasn't even sure if he had even been that long here in Italy.

Josuke did his best to keep up, Abbacchios steps were long and deliberate making him quite fast for a man who was just taking a stroll, keeping just a little behind him to avoid bumping shoulders with the people on the streets.

Abbacchio started down the alley again, waving him to follow.

"Comrades, huh?" He laughed a little. "What? You in a gang or something?"

It was meant to be a joke. Something to get his newest companion to roll his eyes and give a half-hearted chuckle. Josuke felt his stomach become as heavy as a brick when Abbacchio swiveled his head to look at him, his white hair flinging slightly over his shoulder as he stared him in the face.

The teen wondered briefly if his new ally would suddenly beat him up like those dealers tried to do and he gulped, preparing to turn tail and run as fast as he could down the street.

The former policeman frowned deeply. Did this stronzo know nothing about the mean Italian streets? The Mafia? Of fucking course he was in a Gang, did he think he was just a streetwalking freak that kicked the shit out of druggies and junkies alike for fun?

Abbacchio leaned closer, his expression radiating all seriousness.

"S-Sorry..." he muttered somewhat lamely, his voice so quiet Abbacchio probably wouldn't have heard him if he weren't so close.

Any idiot would know the true meaning to that answer and Josuke didn't consider himself an idiot.

The man grunted in response and simply kept walking, no more was said as Josuke continued to followed him down the street to this supposed spot.

On the bright side of things... he now reminded him even more of his nephew Jotaro.

Even if it wasn't in a good way...

More importantly, he was finally going to get something to eat.

[floret1]

Fallen (Soul Eater Fanfic) Chapter 2

Asking For A Death Wish?

You know how some kids get excited about the first day of school and have an outfit all picked out and a new lunchbox and stuff? Well, they're bleeping idiots.

"I look like prep school Barbie," I complained to myself.

Besides the tightness around my back area from the blazer, the only thing that had me feel confident was my red scarf. The white uniform was very nostalgic, but I came here to handle things more differently: less pure and more serious and ugly.

I briefly learned the building quickly of course: memorize escape routes, gauge how many people there were, how big they were, how well they'd be likely to fight. If anything goes downhill, I could burst through a window and be out of here in about four seconds flat.

But what I still couldn't stop thinking about was the incident during lunch, the Shinigami told me "no one" goes in the music room.

“That filthy, funky large handed, freak.” I thought, frustrated.

"Excuse me!" A group of kids ran up to me.

Two blondes and a redhead, still small little fledglings with their cheeks red from the streams of their blood, and not to mention the eyes sparkling with wonder.

"Are you the new girl?!" One of the two girls asks.

I tilted my head and looked at them. They couldn't possibly become mini Rambos in the future, but who knows? "Um...yes." I answer.

"Oh my gosh! You're soooo beautiful! It's like I'm in front of a real angel!" The girl squealed like I was a celebrity.

"I say she can be a princess." One whispered.

"A warrior princess." The redhead corrected.

"What's your name?! Everyone has been DYING to know!"

"A.C." I said plainly.

They looked at me with sparkles in their eyes still. "We finally know her NAME!" They reacted by jumping and squealing, "I wish that I'd be beautiful and mature like you one day!" Someone said.

I kneeled down to their height, "Go back to class, I don't want to get you girls late." I said, they nodded obediently and walked away, waving goodbye.

I heard a whistle from behind me after they left out of my sight, "Wow, Stein told me you were rough around the edges." I turned around to face a rather young man.

He wore a basic black suit, black dress slacks, an olive green button down shirt in which remained tucked in, a black leather belt with a silver buckle, and dress shoes.

"Whoops, sorry. I'm Spirit, a teacher here in the academy." He said, a smug on his face and it grew larger the more he looked at me. Spirit appeared as a somewhat younger aged man, his facial features consist of red shoulder length hair and blue eyes.

Not as much as before, but testosterone once again.

For SOME REASON, he started petting my head, and that irritated me. A lot.

I felt like flipping the guy upside down and throw him against the wall....but I, sadly, swallowed the need away. But the thought stayed in my head and I made a face instead.

"Kids these days, weren't they adorable? Be cute like them!" He said with a wider grin, and I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"Come on, class is going to start." He went inside the room and I rechecked the number on the door.

22B. Of course he’s my teacher.

I followed the stranger into a flat, wide room that had dummies, punching bags, and people chatting with weapons in their hands. Or around them.

"Hello class!"

Before being the show of the day again, I supernaturally sped behind the kids so no one actually saw me come in. Which apparently worked.

"Welcome to a new semester of Weapon and Skill class."

He reads through the rules on his clipboard and I stood there sighing. Oddly enough, he was only roll-calling the females in the class.

"Guess what class? I'm going to welcome a new student in this year's sophomore class!" He exclaimed. My eyebrows twitched and the kids murmured, wondering where I was, "There you are!" Spirit broke through the crowd and grabbed my wrist like a kindergartner.

"H-HEY YOU---."

"Come on cutie! Let's show them that cute face of yours!" He had hearts in his eyes and skipped across the crowd. Can he be anymore embarrassing?! "This is our new student, A.C.!" He announced, but I snatched my arm away from him and held my left arm.

Murmurs were growing and I felt the presence of people staring at me. I exhaled and stood there professionally, "Good afternoon." I said and bowed. I stayed in my position for a while and waited until the students finished bowing to me too. I stood up and glanced at each person, examining their appearance and checking-out their weapons.

"Oh~! Let me present my LOVELY daughter, Maka!" He said while having an unusual pose and points to a girl.

She had ash blond pigtails, green eyes, a white cape-like-coat, a sailor uniform styled top with a pink tie, and white boots. I noticed probably eight other members had the same outfit as her too.

She had a disgusted face and looked away from him. Seems we're on the same page.

She sighs and walked up to me, holding out a hand, "I'm Maka Albarn. Unfortunately, I'm the daughter of this dimwit over here," she whispered to me the last sentence she added and I made a smirk.

She was worthy of it. "Nice to meet you." I said.

"This is my weapon Soul Eat-...Oh you've got to be kidding me!!" Maka cursed under her breath and slapped her forehead.

Spirit shook his head and made a check mark on his board, he snickered, "Your pervy Weapon late for class already? I'm telling you pumpki-"

The door abruptly opens and a blue zombie that had several tattoos ran in. Whispering to Spirit.

Nodding, the zombie faced to us. "Maka, Soul, Kid, Patty, Liz, Black Star, Tsubaki, and A.C.. Lord Death wants to see you." He announced.

"Lord Death? Already?"

"Hold on, can't we wait a little bit? Soul's probably running down the halls right now." A boy with blue, cotton candy hair said.

"He'll just have to meet you all in the Death Room. I'll go look for him." The zombie insisted, and left the room.

I quietly followed the kids the zombie called out and I didn't talk throughout the hallway. Well, until someone said something.

"I wonder if she's a Meister or a Weapon." The boy with shaggy, blue cotton candy hair whispered to Maka.

I paced faster by passing them. "Neither." I said as I turned to them, they all looked at me with surprise but wasn't able to protest.

When I turned around, I bumped into a figure hard and we both fell onto the ground.

"What are you, a bull?" The voice was extremely offended.

"What are you, a wall?" I remarked back, and scrabbled myself to face the blocker.

He had white hair swept to one side and had red eyes. He had this heavily exaggerated facial expression and pointed teeth. He naturally had a lazy, droopy, and somewhat uninterested expression despite his comment. His face so stoic I wondered what thoughts formed behind those blood-colored eyes.

"Welcome!" The Shinigami yelled out of nowhere, and everyone else greeted him as well.

I didn't even realize we were in the Death Room already, "Let me help." Maka's gloved hands reached out to me, and I reluctantly let her help me up even though I didn't need to, and everyone was already walking into the Death Room, "I'm sorry about Soul, he can be rude a lot of times." She said as we walked more into the room.

I faced to the boy ahead of me, known as Soul, and he didn't even apologize and kept his hands into his pockets. But I knew I shouldn't really complain or care, it's not like I would stay here for long.

"Thanks."

"I have a assignment for you kids and it's very urgent. Out in Death Forest, our witnesses have been spotting a strange figure the past twenty-four hours," He explains, they all nodded seriously, "Four people have been killed so far, soulless! Now get going!" He ordered and we all head out of the Death Room, already.

Death the Kid POV--

"Kid." My father calls.

"I'll meet you guys there." I reassured to my friends and the new girl, and paced myself to Father, "Yes Father?"

"What do you think of....the new girl?" He asked.

I gave an questionable expression, "Well she's perfectly symmetrical with her hair, scarf fixed perfectly unlike most people - "

"OKAY. That wasn't the right question. Kid, I want you to keep a eye on her. Tell me later about her..capabilities." He looked troubled.

"Is there something wrong? Do you not trust her?" I asked.

"No no. It's just that....it has been many years since someone like her has come around. I'm just curious that's all." He said with a tone I couldn't analyze.

I nodded, "Alright Father." I bowed to him and caught up with everyone else.

A.C. POV--

Everyone changed into casual clothes and battle gears before we left. The sundown came quick and we made it to this....Death Forest. I sensed these kid's feelings, that they felt uneasy. I didn't peep a word the whole time, and that's exactly how I wanted it to be.

Unless someone else talks to me.

"HEY!!" Blue Hair was wearing a ninja outfit and a mix of modern clothes, "I'm Black Star! The greatest assassin in the WORLD!!!!!!" His voice was so loud it could be close to a Sonus Daemonium. "I'M going to surpass God one day, and I'll be the #1 star! Black Star!" He said.

I rolled my eyes. "Tsk." I let out.

"What was that, Pinky?" He said with his forehead and nose wrinkling with disgust.

"All you say is nonsense and quite frankly, a waste of my time." I said and that made him blink a little, "You say you can surpass God? You can't even lift a finger on a Maior Daemonium. And you say you're the greatest assassin? Your voice is so loud it would be implausible for you to sneak up to anyone or anything." I said and turned away from him fast, my hair whip with me. I could tell he was dumbstruck, but was ready for a counterattack.

"O-oh ya? Well...what kind of name is A.C.?!" He yelled.

"MAKA CHOP!" Maka slammed a big green book onto Black Star's head. Maybe even into it.

"Ow!!!!" He hollers.

"Stop being so annoying Black Star. Be nice and respectful to her, she's new to a mission." She said with her hands on her hips.

"Hmph!" He crossed his arms and stomped away as a girl with black long hair follows him.

Maka came up to me, "This hasn't really been your perfect first day because of, so far, three annoying guys." She said as she sweat-drops.

I made a small smile for only respect and shook my head, "It's alright." But as I did, I noticed the guy Soul grinning..and made a click with his tongue.

There was a little twitch on the corner of my eyebrow, "What?"

He shrugs, "Nothing, newbie."

"Newbie huh?" I thought as I faced away from him.

We continued in this Death Forest, Black Star still frustrated, and everyone was shivering from the cold air. Luckily for me, I don't feel the cold or heat.

I stopped my tracks and halted everyone by raising my hand, "Stop." I said.

"What's wrong?" The girl with long black hair said.

I felt a wavelength of not a Kishin, but a different Kishin. I could hear its breath exhaling and inhaling, the rhythm of it showing its yearning for hunger. "It's close." I said.

"You can sense its wavelength?" Said a boy with half his hair with white stripes, wearing a sharp black suit with a skull on his collar.

"It's waiting, and hungry." I said. "It's just about two miles away from us, but is slowly decreasing distance by forty meters every 3.5 seconds." I continued.

"Soul." Maka said. Soul made a smirk and lights up, turning into a scythe that had its rod silver, the blade mid color red and peachy, a large oval black eye, and decorated with gold.

His weapon form was different, probably a Death Scythe. I'll give him credit, it was pretty impressive.

Then there were two siblings wearing sleeveless, red turtle necks whom purposely reveal their bellies. On their heads were blue and white cowboy hats, and each one had either a short or long jean pants. Those two turned into twin silver hand guns that had a skull engraved.

The quiet girl that was next to Black Star was wearing a light brown outfit with various belts, a star on her left breast, a little scarf that was tightly around her neck, a belt-like sleeve on her arms, and her legs shown noticeably on her sides. She turned into a chained kama that was being dragged on the ground.

"Stay back A.C. You don't have a Weapon to fight the Kishin." Maka said.

My eyes widened as I point a direction, "There!"

Suit Guy aimed his gun and fired at the spot I pointed. A deadly scream rips through and a white dash went towards Suit Guy. But he was able to shoot a few more shots, quick enough so it dashed away in pain.

"Come out you wimp!!!" Black Star, you guessed it, yelled.

A diabolical laugh echoes around us and we stayed alarmed. "You." It hissed,  that left a ghostly trail that shivered spines.

"Watch out!" I heard someone call out.

I swish around and the Kishin was on its way towards me with its fangs shining from the moon's light. Its bald, pointy chin, and oval face covered with its dead-pale skin, added with pointy elf-like ears. Its green eyes glowing, claws sharp, and large 17 inch feet. Its back with bushes of grey-black fur.

I leap back while its claws raked the ground like plato. I landed gracefully on my feet and stood there, waiting.

"You." It said again.

I made a smirk, "Asking for a death wish?"

It lunges towards me and I dodged to the side, my angle facing his left side. I did a knee-kick to its gut and it hollers, screeching with a keening voice. It quickly claws at my arm and I jumped back to avoid anymore contact. I wince the pain away, at least in front of these newbies.

"Hey!!!!" Black Star's weapon changed into a shuriken and threw at the Kishin. But it dodges and hides in the dark forest.

"You're injured!" Maka said and ran towards me.

I brushed myself from sitting on the dirty ground, "I'm fine." I said.

"No, you're not." Maka said and checks my arm. Her green eyes widens and looks at me. "How..."

My sleeves had four claw marks on my arm with no sign of a rip or gash on my skin. "Like I said." I said. "We have to get moving. We can't play hide and seek forever." I turned to walk ahead but looked to the corner of my eye. She still stood there.

I turned back with my hands on my hips, "Of course unless, you have a better idea." I said.

They all shook their heads left and right and looked at me without a another word.

"Good, now let's get to it."

—

PART 1 (cause tumblr has a word count limit)

Checkout Part 2 of this chapter!

[neubauje]

Ancient jewish puns

[3:59:44 AM] neubauje: lol you should have seen me today

[4:00:07 AM] neubauje: I went on a mini-rant about my "own" religion to my innocent bystander friends

[4:00:17 AM] neubauje: they didn't say a WORD

[4:00:32 AM] Spazfox: Fun times.

(this is where I would insert a line break if I knew how)

Nie, [25.04.17 13:56][throws cold ham at]

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 13:56]um

Nie, [25.04.17 13:57]Thats what im eating

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 13:57]what's ham made out of dumbass

Nie, [25.04.17 13:57]Pork, but last i checked you didnt eat kosher

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 13:57]bruh I haven't eaten pork in 10+ years

Nie, [25.04.17 13:58]Bruh you never told me that

Nie, [25.04.17 13:58]Just that you hated bacon

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 13:58]and what is bacon made of

Nie, [25.04.17 13:58]You can hate bacon without hating pork dumbass

Nie, [25.04.17 13:58]Dont try to guilt trip me for you not tellin me shit lol

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 13:59][ 😟 Sticker ]

Doom, [25.04.17 13:59]Funny story that shows my Spanish has clearly deteriorated. So I'm at a cafe and they have 'pata' for sale and I'm like 'ah, a duck sandwich. I fucking love duck I'll have it'. So there I am happily eating my sandwich and my mum pops back from some sort of appointment and she's like 'you know that's pig's foot right?'. Pata means foot. Pato is duck.

Nie, [25.04.17 14:00]LOL

Doom, [25.04.17 14:00]I was wondering why it was so fatty and stringy

Nie, [25.04.17 14:01]well now you know you like the taste of pata

Nie, [25.04.17 14:01]Maybe not the texture though

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:23]I don't prefer most pork things, but I'll eat it if that's what's for lunch iykwim

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:23]Keeping kosher is waaay too much trouble in america

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:24]And I do like a good cheeseburger

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 14:24]pork is the easiest to avoid so that's what I cut out

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 14:24]but you'll pry my cheese and meat tacos from my cold dead hands

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:24]What about shrimp and catfish

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 14:24]never been a fan of seafood

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:25]Well there you go

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:25]What I always found ridiculous about keeping kosher is the "building a wall around the torah" aspect... When they build a wall around the wall and then a wall around that wall

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:27]Like they take the line "don't boil a calf in its mother's milk" and instead of taking away "hey maybe we shouldn't be unnecessarily cruel and thoughtless to animals" they ended up with "don't mix milk with meat"

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:27]Including chicken meat, which doesn't even lactate??

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:27]Noooo problem mixing chicken meat with eggs though

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:28]As for which animals are/are not kosher? Totally arbitrary. They were based on classifications at a time when bats were still considered birds

Randy Skayvage, [25.04.17 14:29]Not necessarily. If you consider it in terms of which foods would/wouldn't spoil quickly or have the potential to be dangerous health-wise.

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:29]At the time? Maybe. These days, no longer relevant

neubauje, [25.04.17 14:30]But that's all the ranting about my own religion that I have time for right now I got to be going to work

[4:04:25 AM] neubauje: do NOT feel obligated to read all that

[4:04:31 AM] neubauje: the top bit is mostly for context

[4:04:55 AM] neubauje: as it turns out, I still silently hold a grudge against my more conservative family members

[4:06:39 AM] neubauje: the reasonings they give for still being as observant as they are have always seemed like indoctrinated bullshit based mostly in faith and tradition

[4:07:03 AM] neubauje: like, I GET tradition? as in, a way to spiritually connect with your ancestors? but like... there's a line, yo.

[4:07:16 AM] neubauje: and faith, I just have zero patience for

[4:07:33 AM] Spazfox: It's almost like rules dreamed up in the bronze age and sold as being holy are kinda dumb. :P

[4:07:45 AM] neubauje: almost!!

[4:07:56 AM] Spazfox: Bats are birds, ya know.

[4:08:02 AM] neubauje: -_-

[4:10:37 AM] neubauje: so do I consider myself jewish? kinda. if one can be a secular jew, that's what I am. in the spirit of understanding and acknowledging my ancestry, I learn the history, I learn the rules and the reasons, I learn the Hebrew. but I make my own decisions and lifestyle from there thank you very much.

[4:10:51 AM] neubauje: and honestly, if you ask me, the best parts of Judaism are all about that kind of mindset anyway

[4:31:28 AM] neubauje: aha, after doing some more research on the passage in question, I see now that there are TWO words in the "birds not to eat" section which both have very little context elsewhere in the torah... so scholars are pretty much guessing that at least one of them means "bat" but they aren't sure which one, and what the other one would be

[4:31:53 AM] neubauje: that's the trouble with dead languages :/

[4:32:28 AM] neubauje: I wanna know how they managed to figure out what the Hebrew word for "hyrax" was... I don't recall there ever being any other context for a hyrax

[4:32:57 AM] Spazfox: You know, somebody should come up with a method for working out how the world actually functions instead of just using guesswork and folk wisdom.

[4:33:07 AM] neubauje: you mean science?

[4:33:16 AM] Spazfox: Something like that.

[4:35:53 AM] neubauje: yeah basically this whole chapter reads like a beginner's guide to virology

[4:36:08 AM] neubauje: they even mention carcasses falling into earthenware which must then be shattered

[4:36:20 AM] neubauje: because it won't air out like clothing or wooden vessels will

[4:36:36 AM] neubauje: they were TRYING to science, they just weren't very good at it yet

[4:37:51 AM] Spazfox: Yeah, it kinda took people a while.

[4:38:11 AM] Spazfox: And, like, books and stuff.

[4:39:01 AM] neubauje: yeeeahhhh about four or five thousand years, give or take

[4:48:09 AM] neubauje: oh my god are you kidding me

http://thetorah.com/meat-and-milk-origins-in-the-text/

[4:48:24 AM] neubauje: okay so the milk and meat thing? turns out it has nothing to do with cooking at all

[4:48:34 AM] neubauje: it's just a turn of phrase for "hey don't procrastinate"

[4:48:42 AM] Spazfox: HA!

[4:49:17 AM] neubauje: even the guys looking at it in the second context have completely missed that it STILL works as "hey don't procrastinate" just a little more of a pun based on what they were saying not to procrastinate about

[4:50:00 AM] neubauje: (which was don't WAIT until the animal has already died before you eat it, make sure it dies by your hand... because illness is a thing that might have killed it)

[4:50:27 AM] neubauje: omfg

[4:50:32 AM] neubauje: I just... I can't anymore

[4:50:44 AM] neubauje: the ancient jews made a fucking pun

[4:50:55 AM] neubauje: and people are like "hurr durr no more cheeseburgers"