#I hate them so much I feel like I can combust!!!! they ruined perfectly good characters!!!!!

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I hate this show. I hate this show. I hate this show so so much. I’ve written better Star Trek fanfiction at 13 than Condal and Hess could at their old age. Do they not understand that unless the fanfiction is crack, and even then sometimes, it SHOULD be based on their sources materials? Like there’s a reason fanfic writers put ooc!xyz in tags when their own characterizations don’t match up with the source material. And the fact that these buffoons try to make their poor writing choices deliberately ‘alright’ because “it’s the true story!!! Fire and Blood is propaganda!!!!” Makes them juvenile and and completely unserious in their task to adapt a book that has decades of world building supporting it.

They took a look at Rhaena and Dreamfyres stolen eggs, which Jaehaerys had to personally go to bravos to find out where it went, and gave it to Rhaenyra???? Okay. I guess you’re just going to cut off one of the most important plot points in Dany’s arc to prop up your Mary sue white bread heroin. They saw Alicents agency and her being the leading voice in naming her son heir and decided that her childhood friend was worth more than her children. The children that she willingly shed her childhood friends blood for. And I guess everything is a misunderstanding. Hereford everything that went on in GoT is also a misunderstanding!!!!

Catelyn let Jamie go because of a misunderstanding!!!! Jon let the wildlings over the wall because of a misunderstanding! Sansa was mean to Dany because of a misunderstanding! And Baelish creeped on a child because of a misunderstanding!!!!

Fuck condal and Hess so much holy shit I swear I’m done with this show. They even ruined characters I have no feelings on and made me hate them!!! Do you understand how hard it is for me to hate well written characters even if they were villains??? I had no problem with book Rhaenyra. I didn’t like her much but I thought she was compelling but holy shit did these fuck ass writers make me hate her. White bread character embodying everything wrong about white feminism. Literally how tf do any non white feminists aligned person like her????

[seijorhi]

Outrunning Fate

As promised (though I am more than a little late for Shiratorizawa Week), the soulmate AU

Tendou x female reader x Ushijima

TW stalking, possessive behaviour, implied non-con

Soulmates were supposed to be a blessing.

It was a fairytale that you’d grown up hearing about. One person who was supposed to be wholly yours.

Your parents were soulmates, even if you hadn’t always understood the concept, the proof of that remarkable, unshakable bond was always right in front of you. It wasn’t in the big grand gestures, it was little things - the soft, adoring look in your father’s eye as your mother passed him his coffee every morning, the way she always sought out his touch when they were together, even if it was just to twine her fingers with his, or the way that they always seemed to be able to sense when the other was upset, and wordlessly found the perfect way to comfort them.

Your father never had to tell you that he loved your mother, but he did, every single day. He told her too, just to see her smile.

It seemed effortless, easy, as if their love for one another was as natural as breathing. How could you be blamed for looking at your bare wrist, waiting for the day that name would appear in scrawling black ink, feeling that excited fluttering in your chest because you knew one day you’d meet your soulmate and have that perfect, fairytale love all for yourself.

Except it wasn’t like that.

Something went wrong.

***

You’re fifteen and barely paying attention in class when your skin prickles uncomfortably. Your heart leaps into your chest as you tug up the sleeve off your blazer, watching wide eyed with bated breath as a name appears on your wrist.

Tendou Satori.

The beginnings of a smile start to curl at your lips, but it freezes in place as more inky black writing appears below the first.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A second name. 

And suddenly, it feels like your perfectly crafted world begins to fall apart. Two soulmates aren’t unheard of, but they’re incredibly rare and you can’t deny that there’s a certain… stigma attached to it. 

What kind of a person isn’t satisfied with just one? 

This is supposed to be some magical, thrilling moment for you, but instead all you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the growing wave of nausea that rises in the back of your throat. Quickly you yank your sleeve back down and before you can even think to stutter an apology to your bewildered teacher, you’re out of your seat and sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom. You barely make it before hurling up your guts. 

After that, you start wearing long sleeves wherever you go.

It’s not that you’re ashamed, you tell yourself as you bite your lip and try your utmost to fade into the background whenever the topic comes up in conversation, it’s just that… other people aren’t always so accepting.

You’ve tried to get used to the disgusted looks, the invasive questions and the insults that follow you wherever you go, but it’s easier said than done. You hate that your cheeks still burn scarlet whenever you catch someone staring at your marks, almost as much as you hate the way you quickly duck your head in shame and race to fix your sleeve.

‘It’s okay, honey. I know it’s not what you expected but… it just means there’s one more person out there waiting to love you with everything they have. You’re twice as lucky as the rest of us,’ your father had told you on that horrible day. You just wished it hadn’t sounded like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.

***

You’re seventeen and the first boy who kisses you tries to shove your hand down his pants because he knows you’ve got two names on your wrist, and that means you’re up for anything, right?

You run home with tears streaming down your face and when you shower that night you scrub at the marks like you’re trying to erase them entirely.

What did having two names mean really? That one wasn’t enough? Would they be content sharing you? Would they even know of the other’s existence?

You could only imagine how horrifying it would be for them, spending months, years waiting for you only to realise that they didn’t really have all of you…

Would they hate you? Could you even blame them if they did?

Sometimes… sometimes you think it might be better if you didn’t have a soulmate at all, instead of this. It’s easier just to ignore it, pretend they don’t exist, pretend that you’re not gonna ruin their lives. Who knows, maybe you’ll be one of those few who never actually meet their soulmates. You can live with that, you think. You have a family who love you, a bunch of close friends who’d die for you - who needs stupid soulmates?

***

It’s the morning after your 18th birthday, your head is still pounding from the alcohol and bad decisions from the night before when your curiosity finally gets the better of you. It’s the modern age, most people live their lives online, you figure you’ll find a facebook page, a twitter account maybe.

Instead, the first item that comes up in your search is a video. It’s a news segment about a volleyball game - some high school team that you’ve never heard of, but you listen to the commentator talk and your heart leaps into your throat because they mention the Ace by name and suddenly there he is. Tall, dark haired and imposing - Ushijima Wakatoshi.

But you don’t even have a moment to breathe, to focus on the absolute beast that is your second soulmate and his terrifying spike because the camera shifts and suddenly there’s another player in focus. Tall, gangly with bright, spiky red hair and a too-wide grin, “-not the only player in the spotlight after today’s match; Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker, the so called ‘Guess Monster’ Tendou Satori-”

You close the browser window and slam your laptop shut.

They’re… friends, or teammates at the very least.

It feels like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. This whole thing is already messy enough, but you can’t get in the middle of that, you refuse to make everything worse for them just because the fates have decided to play a cruel joke on you.

If there were any lingering doubt left in your mind that you’re better off burying your soulmates, they’re well and truly put to bed.

That night, you dream of a cheering crowd, the thwack of a volleyball ricocheting off a vinyl floor and two menacing figures looming over you.

With your final exams around the corner, it’s almost too easy to put the video and your soulmates out of your mind as you throw yourself into studying. Months pass in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re dressed in black robes and holding your high school diploma. You celebrate with your friends, dancing wildly with a care-free grin long into the night because you know you’re finally getting out of there for good. Tokyo’s a big city, you’ll lose yourself there and nobody, not a single damned soul, will know about the two names that grace your wrist. It’s as close to freedom as you’re ever gonna get - and god that makes you so fucking happy.

Your bags are packed and you’re holding your parents as they sob and then, like that, you’re gone. 

Tokyo awaits.

***

It’s not that easy to outrun fate.

Living in Tokyo ain’t cheap, even for the shitty little shoebox apartment you rent while you’re studying. You manage to find a job at one of the Americanised diner style cafes just down the road from where you live two weeks after moving in. It’s popular with students because it’s open till late, the coffee’s good and the waffles are exactly what the doctor ordered after a long night of drinking with your friends. You’re just happy because the pay’s pretty decent and your boss lets you bring in your laptop and textbooks so you can study when it’s not too busy. You’re not nearly as thrilled about the short, revealing blue dress that serves as your uniform, but you know when to pick your battles.

It’s a little after one o’clock on a slow Tuesday night, the cafe’s almost empty and you’re propped up on your elbows along the countertop, absentmindedly thumbing through one of your assigned readings for class tomorrow when you hear the tell-tale chime of the door opening.

You hastily shove your books aside, plastering a wide if not a little artificial smile across your face, you glance up to greet the customers, only to freeze in place.

Your heart skips a beat.

Of all the cafes in the sprawling city, of course your soulmate has to walk into this one.

With his wild, spiked red hair and easy, sloping grin, Tendou’s unmistakable as he strides through the cafe with two other guys you can only assume are his friends. You suppose you should be a little relieved that he barely spares you a glance as the threesome make a beeline for one of the corner booths, but it’s hard to feel anything other than blind panic at the sight of your soulmate only a few feet away. It’s purely out of habit that you reach for your wrist and the skin coloured bandage hiding your traitorous marks, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief when you feel it still in place.

A loud cackle bursts through the quiet atmosphere of the cafe and you dart a glance over to see Tendou with his head thrown back laughing at something one of the others has said. There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks redden just a touch. It’s not an awful sound (not at all), but your pulse is racing and you think you just might be sick because this is all… too much.

You’d left them in the past along with whatever fairytale fantasies you thought having a soulmate would bring. You… you’re happy being alone and coping just fine without either one of them! They were a dream - a distant possibility you’d long since locked away, you weren’t supposed to ever actually see them!

At least it’s only Tendou, you think you might actually combust if they were both here. Still, there’s a faint tremor in your hand as you brush a lock of hair out of your face and try to regain control of your breathing.

As much as you’d like to run, or preferably, have the earth suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you know you can’t. For one, you’re the only server left until close and your boss might be easy going but somehow you doubt he’d let you keep your job after a stunt like that. More importantly, you have a sinking suspicion that causing a fuss will only draw his attention and that’s the last thing you want. He doesn’t know who you are, your mark is safely tucked away under your bandages, this will be fine.

It’s an hour and a half until close, he and his friends will get some food, eat, drink and chat amongst themselves and then you can kick them out and it’ll all be over. You barely have to interact with him. For all he knows you’re just a server in a random cafe - this will be fine.

Robotically you force your legs to move, carrying you towards your oblivious soulmate. You’re pretty sure that your smile’s a little off and you haven’t quite managed to quell the shaking in your hands as you reach for your notepad, flipping it open.

It’s the best you can do, especially when there’s a voice inside your head that’s all but begging for you to turn around and pretend this whole thing never happened. 

Tendou appears to be thoroughly engrossed in whatever story he’s telling his friends, waving his arms around wildly when you reach their table. Normally you’d clear your throat politely and wait for them to settle down before introducing yourself and asking for their order, but when you open your mouth - nothing comes out. It’s like your whole throat has suddenly dried up and you’re just standing there gaping like an idiot, but Tendou hasn’t even noticed.

The ashy blonde to his left, however, does. His eyes flicker to you and you swear that you can see the faintest trace of amusement as he takes you in. He smirks, quickly shoving an elbow into the redhead’s side and jerking his chin in your direction. 

“Hey loudmouth, pipe down would you?”

Your breath catches as he turns around to look up at you and grins, “Ah, sorry. Didn’t see ya there!” 

The other two have picked up their menus again, but for whatever reason just as Tendou’s gaze starts to slide off of you, something catches his attention and stops him in his tracks. Like a magpie spotting something shiny in the distance, those big, droopy red eyes suddenly widen and zero back in with unnerving interest. Frozen with that fake, half hearted smile painted across your lips you feel strangely like a bug caught under a microscope as Tendou studies you - there’s really no other way to describe it. His head tilts to the side and he makes a low noise from the back of his throat that almost sounds pleased.

He can’t know, there’s no possible way, but if he doesn’t then why the hell is he staring at you like that?

It’s all you can do to remain rooted in place, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure they have to be able to hear it too. Whatever he’s searching for he apparently finds because his grin widens and he leans back in his seat and chuckles. “Why’d you look so nervous, we’re not gonna bite - promise!” 

The other guy at the table rolls his eyes, “Tendou, don’t scare the pretty waitress, she’s just trying to do her job,” he chastises, offering you an apologetic smile that does little to ease your nerves. “Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

You swallow and hum in faint acknowledgment, and he takes that as a sign to begin his order. 

You were hoping that they were just going to get some drinks and be out of your hair, but as he starts listing off various snacks and appetizers to share and the ashy blonde throws out a few more, it looks like your nightmare is only just beginning.

You nod dutifully, writing it all down. The cook is just going to love you for this, but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. “Anything else?” you ask in a voice that just barely passes for what your boss deems ‘customer service appropriate’, decidedly not looking towards the redhead who is still staring at you.

He hasn’t looked at the menu once since you walked over, actually you doubt he’s looked at the menu at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter because he pipes up regardless, “Yep, one of those thickshakes, you know - the really good strawberry one, annnd-”

“Y/N, order up!!”

Your soul leaves your body at the exact same moment that Tendou’s pupils dilate and snap to your wrist.

The pen in your hand is shaking, your grip so tight that it’s a wonder the flimsy plastic doesn’t shatter as you turn to glance over your shoulder. The cook is leaning out across the overpass, staring at you with a scowl and vaguely you register the hot plate of food in front of him which can’t have been sitting there for more than a minute at the most. You give a weak nod, earning you a dismissive grunt in response, before turning back to the table.

All three of them are staring wide eyed and open mouthed at you. 

Fuck. 

They know. They have to know.

You should have legged it when you had the chance.

Breathe. Smile. Play dumb. This is fine.

“A-anything el-”

“Somethin’ wrong with your wrist?” Tendou asks slowly, eyeing the bandage like he wants nothing more than to snatch it up and rip it away from you. His fingers flex and you don’t even have time to brace before they’re shooting out towards you-

A hand catches his forearm before he can touch you - it’s his friend, the dark haired one with the crew cut, who’s currently staring down the erratic redhead with a distinct frown. 

It’s the blonde who speaks up, “Sorry, he’s had a few drinks tonight. The idiot sometimes forgets his manners in public.”

The music is still playing in the background, somebody laughs at the table a few down from theirs, but in this little pocket, trapped between the three of them with the tension thick enough to slice with a knife, the silence is oppressive.

And then Tendou’s attention shifts back to you and your stomach flips - it’s like the floor has disappeared beneath your feet and you’re suddenly careening through the empty air with no hope in hell of slowing down.

He looks… well, mad is the wrong word. Tendou is technically smiling, but his grin stretched slightly too wide, his eyes a little too intense. There’s an emotion you can’t name etched across his pale features, and it’s unsettling… it scares you a little, if you’re being honest.

You swallow and take a tiny, shaking breath. “I-it’s fine. I tripped last week and sprained it.”

“Clumsy, are you?” he asks, prying himself free of his friend’s grip.

A laugh forces its way out, grating and too sharp to be believable. “Yeah, I guess. Your food won’t be too long, if you need anything else, just- just let me know.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond as you all but flee the table. You’re shaking and almost in tears by the time you reach the kitchen, the cook takes one look at you, a grumpy admonishment on the tip of his tongue, and falters.

They stay until close, and you avoid them like the plague.

Hours later, lying tucked up in your bed your skin still prickles from the thought of Tendou’s piercing stare. Maybe if you’d kept some kind of a level head through it all instead of acting like a flustered school girl, he might have just passed it all off as a coincidence. 

But you hadn’t, had you?

It wasn’t just that he knew who you were to him (and to Ushijima) but that after all your blushing and stammering, the pitiful attempts at hiding your soulmate marks and the way you all but ran from him the very first moment you could, he had to know that you knew as well. That despite coming face to face with your soulmate, you lied - you rejected him.

You mom once told you that the first time she laid eyes on her soulmate the world stopped spinning and all she felt was joy. Maybe there’s something wrong with you after all, because despite the insistent tug in your heart, you just feel sick. Despite being exhausted after your long shift, sleep that night doesn’t come easy.

It’s two days later that you find yourself back in the cafe, working a rare day shift on your only week-days off from classes. You keep glancing up at the door every few minutes, half dreading the possibility that any moment, Tendou and his friends are going to walk in, but they don’t. 

Ushijima does, a little after the lunch rush dies down.

He looks so out of place against the vibrant backdrop of the 50’s style diner, all serious and stoic, that if he were anybody else you might think he was lost. 

But he isn’t lost, because he’s staring right at you.

You don’t notice one of your co-workers sliding up to you until they laugh and playfully nudge your side. “Ah, I see the eye candy is back. Try and pick up your jaw, Y/N,” they tease.

Back?

Instead of finding an empty table to sit himself down at (and give you a minute to mentally prepare) Ushijima is making his way straight over to the counter, unsmiling and huge. How was he even bigger in person?! He could crush you with his thighs alone!

“He’s been here before?” you ask quietly, unable to draw your gaze away from him. 

Your co-worker snorts. “Yeah, he came in last night, he even asked for you by name. Seemed kinda disappointed when I told him you weren’t on until today. You holding out on me, Y/N? I thought we were closer than that. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you start dating a hot ass dude!”

They slip away with a wink before you even have a chance to respond and you’re left floundering as Ushijima approaches. Your mouth is dry, your pulse racing. Just like with Tendou, you have no escape, nowhere you can run or hide.

He asked for you by name.

Fuck. You should have quit when you had the chance.

Ushijima isn’t smiling. Where Tendou had been beaming with chaotic energy from the moment he walked in, your second soulmate seems almost stony as he stares at you with serious olive eyes. You honestly can’t tell if he’s frowning or if that’s just the way his face is, but it makes your gut twist regardless. 

It might also be the fact that he’s towering over you without even trying to. He has to be at least 6’3” but it’s not just his height that’s imposing - he’s brawny and muscular and, yeah, huge. Briefly you remember the news clip you’d seen of him, the terrifying brute force behind his spike. 

He seems to be waiting for you to speak, so you swallow down the lump in your throat and try to remember how to breathe like a normal person. “Hi, can I get you anything?”

Something briefly flickers across his face, but otherwise his expression remains distressingly neutral. “… I would like some tea.”

You nod - it’s like pulling teeth. “Yeah, sure. We uh, we actually have a few different kinds…”

He makes a rough noise of acknowledgement and then… pauses. Instead of the menu, Ushijima studies you. His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a… smile? You can’t quite tell, but it looks out of place regardless. “I will have whichever you recommend.”

You can’t seem to be able to form words, so you settle with nodding, gesturing for him to take a seat while he waits. 

His eyes don’t shift from you, nor does he make any attempt to mask the fact that he’s staring right at you. When his tea is ready, you all but beg your co-worker to take it to him. 

“Trouble in paradise?” they ask, waggling their eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” you mutter, but they take the tea regardless, and you busy yourself in wiping down tables and pretending that you can’t see the scowl from the volleyball player burning across the diner. 

It really isn’t. 

Even after tucking any thought of meeting your soulmates away there was always some tiny part of you - a part you were always so desperate to ignore - that wondered how it would feel to meet them, to be loved by them…

But while your heart squeezes with every glance, it’s not warm, dizzying bliss that floods your system and sends blood rushing to your cheeks. You don’t know what the feeling is that curls in your stomach and claws its way up your spine, but it’s nothing good. 

Something went wrong with you, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Ushijima stays for an hour, finishes his tea and makes his way back to the counter to pay. 

He's wearing a grey hoodie, running gear underneath, and when he hands you the money, passing it directly into hands, his sleeve rides up. There, plain as day, is his soulmate mark.

Your name, written in black ink on Ushijima's wrist, forever marking you as his.

You jerk, flinching away from him, but he doesn’t make a move to cover it. 

“You cannot run from us, Y/N. We are your soulmates, we’re bound together.” His voice is little more than a murmur, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and pointed. Not so much a statement as a fact, as undeniable as your name on his skin, on Tendou’s.

He says it like it’s a promise, staring into your eyes with that impenetrable gaze and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

“Why are you so determined to fight it?”

You swallow, taking the cash from his hand and punching it into the till. “I’m sorry, whoever you think I am…” you trail off, finally raising your eyes to meet his penetrating stare. You’re quietly proud of the way your voice doesn’t shake, even as your heart races like a hummingbird in your chest and your palms sweat. “I’m not.”

The only sign that Ushijima hears you at all is the subtle furrowing of his brow and a distinctly displeased hum from the back of his throat. 

“I hope you enjoyed your tea.” The cutting barb slips from your lips before you can stop them, but there’s a certain vindictive satisfaction you get in watching his eyes widen, the brief hurt that flickers across his face. 

Of course, it only lasts a fraction of a second before his features school into a blank mask and he nods.

“Perhaps I will try another the next time I see you.”

And with a short bow, he walks away.

You leave your apron behind when you finish your shift at the diner, and you don’t come back.

There will be other jobs.

***

It’s not enough. 

They start showing around campus. 

The first time you catch sight of Tendou, you’re running between classing, cursing the ridiculous schedule that has you attending two back to back lectures on opposite sides of the campus. It’s just a glance - a flicker of red in the corner of your eye. The only reason you stop at all is because you're so focused on not being late that you fail to see the crack in the path until you’re tripping over it. The books in your hand go flying as you sprawl across the pavement.

“Huh, you really weren’t kidding about being clumsy, were ya?”

A pale hand stretches out before you, and just like with Ushijima, Tendou doesn’t bother hiding the soulmate mark as he grins down at you with those wide, creepy eyes. 

You ignore it entirely, waving it away as you pick yourself up with a grunt. The skin on one of your palms is grazed, and you’re pretty sure that your knees are too, but all in all it could be worse. It’s more your pride that smarts, that and the fact that of all people to see you trip, it has to be him.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. I’m only try’na help you!”

You scowl, snatching your textbooks out of his offered hands. “I’m not your baby, Tendou,” you mutter.

You regret the words immediately. His grin slowly widens and he makes a sound, somewhere between a shudder and a moan - it’s almost pornogaphic and wholly inappropriate and it sends blood rushing to your cheeks, but you don’t have time to think about it. 

“I’m already late, just-” you break off with a sigh, readjusting the strap of your backpack, staring resolutely at the ground. “I’m not what you want, what… what either of you want. Just leave me alone, okay?!”

Tendou doesn’t say a word as you walk away, but just like always you feel the burning stare following you until you’re out of sight. 

Somewhat stupidly, you think that’ll be the end of it. The gloves are off - you might not have said it in as many words, but there’s no point denying it any longer. They are your soulmates and it doesn’t change a thing.

There is something wrong with your bond.

But they don’t see it like that. 

They figure out your schedule, take it in turns to wait outside your classes, ambushing you whenever you’re alone. 

“I have a game tomorrow,” Ushijima tells you on a rainy Thursday afternoon as he follows you home. “I would like for you to come.”

It doesn’t seem to bother him that you walk a few steps ahead (or try to at least - his legs are ridiculously long) with your head bent down, ignoring the steady rainfall that threatens to saturate you. Tendou usually fights for your attention, grabs at your hands, your waist, any part he can reach just to touch you, but Ushiwaka seems content to merely be near - so long as you stray too far.

“I have exams to study for.”

He hums noncommittally, “Tendou will be there.”

All the more reason not to go. 

The silence between you two is heavy.

“It would make me… happy, if you came,” he tries again.

Your eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. You hate it when he does this, when he acts like you’re the one being stubborn. Like you haven’t told him, told them both to stop a thousand times before. Like they haven’t ignored it at every turn, blatantly refused to acknowledge that you don’t want them like they want you.

Shouldn’t ‘no’ have been enough?

You’ve considered reporting it to campus security, or even the police, maybe trying to get a restraining order or something like that, but what would you even say - ‘Please Officer, sir, my soulmates are stalking me’? Yeah, that’ll go down a real fucking treat. 

“Why…” you trail off with a sigh, forcing yourself to stop walking.

This time he does reach for you, taking your hand in his. It’s warm and rough from years of volleyball and hard work, and you hate that it’s already so familiar. His expression is as stoic as ever, but there’s a quiet reverence in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really there with him. You suppose in another light, it might almost look romantic, the two of you holding hands under his umbrella, lost in your own little world as the rain pours down around you.

He seems to be waiting for you to finish your thought, so you buck up whatever dregs of courage you still have and try again, “Why can’t you just… move on? I don’t want this- this thing, whatever it is between us.” You sigh, tugging your hand back, “I just want to be alone, why can’t you respect that?!”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, staring at you, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the back of your palm.

But then he shrugs, easily, as if you’re merely discussing the weather and not their continued overbearing and unwanted presence in your life. “We love you. More than anything, and despite your… reservations, we belong together, what other reason does there need to be?” He pauses, his gaze softening just a fraction, “You’ll come around eventually,” he adds.

A tiny part of you crumples at that. What’s the use in arguing with a brick wall?

***

It’s a minor relief when you walk out of your last lecture for the day the following afternoon. It might be because it’s a Friday and you, for once, have absolutely no plans for the weekend, but realistically it’s more to do with the fact that you know no one is waiting for you outside. Ushijima has his volleyball game, and Tendou will be there with him, cheering from the sidelines. 

You should be happier, really, but there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been there since Ushijima left you at your door last night. 

They’re not going to stop. 

Instead of listening to the professor talk, you’ve spent the last three hours searching university transfers. You love Tokyo University, you love Tokyo - the big, bustling city you’d gladly lose yourself in again and again, but it can’t be your home, not when they’re here too.

There’s a University in Kyoto, it has a similar program to the one you’re already in. It’s a surprisingly easy process to change - your grades are decent enough, all you have to is apply. One simple click of a button. It’ll take a few weeks for it all to go through, which’ll give you enough time to figure out how you’re gonna upend your entire life without them realising - assuming of course that Kyoto university accepts the request.

If you soulmates won’t let you go, you’ll run, and you’ll keep running. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe one day you’ll look back at them and feel that same love for them that you’d seen in your parents instead of that black, cloying unease that twists at your guts, but so long as they don’t give the choice, what options do you have?

You’re not stupid, this… thing that they’re doing, the stalking, monopolising your time, trying to drive your friends away, it’s not the end game. What happens when they get tired of you ignoring them?

“Hey, Y/N wait up!”

For a moment your heart seizes, but it calms almost immediately when you realise the voice isn’t the one you’re afraid of. 

You turn to find one of the guys from your last lecture walking over. He’s kinda cute, in a lost puppy kind of way, and he’s nice, for the three conversations you’ve actually had with him. Honestly you’re a little surprised he actually knows your name (considering you’ve definitely forgotten his) but you smile back regardless. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You doing anything tonight?”

Netflix and crashing early, but you’re hardly about to tell him that, “Not much, why?”

He smiles, and for a moment you’re taken aback by just how utterly endearing it is. He really is cute. “Me and a few friends are having a party tonight, you’re uh, you’re welcome to come. Y’know, if you’re not doing anything,” he says with a laugh, throwing in a wink for good measure.

But his smile fades a little as he catches a glimpse of something behind you. You frown at the odd reaction, turning instinctively to see what drew his attention when a weight drapes across your shoulders and you find yourself being pulled into a sideways embrace.

“There you are, baby! I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” a familiar voice drawls. “Who’s your friend?”

You can’t see Tendou’s expression as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but from the way your classmate blanches you can imagine that it’s not pleasant. Still you have to give him credit, he only falters for a second before he’s rubbing the back of his neck and offering a sheepish smile, “Oh, hey, uh… yeah, I’m-”

“Punching a little above your weight, dont’cha think?” Tendou cuts him off with a snort, nuzzling in just a little closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “I thought Ushiwaka told you about the game tonight.”

You shiver, although whether it’s from his softly edged words or the kiss he presses against your cheek, you’re not entirely sure. “He did, I-I told him that I had to study…”

Tendou laughs, squeezing you tighter, “Psh, is that all? Baby, we can help you study later. C’mon, or we’re gonna miss the start of the game.”

And like that he’s tugging you away. With Tendou’s arm wrapped snugly around you, you don’t even have a chance to turn around and apologise to the guy. He’s done it purposefully, a reminder you suppose of who you belong to - though for your classmate’s benefit or yours you honestly don’t know. 

Ushijima’s already on the court by the time Tendou and you arrive at your seats (front row of course) but he glances over as you both settle down and his lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile.

It would make me… happy, if you came, he’d said.

You don’t miss the razor sharp, anticipatory gleam in his eyes, though. 

He destroys the competition. You still remember that brief clip you’d seen years ago of his brutal spike - it seems like time has only served to make it more lethal. The rest of his team is undeniably good, you doubt Ushijima would join a club made up of anything less than the best, but still, he’s in his element and without a single doubt the strongest on the court. 

For every point he scores, Tendou cheers wildly. Halfway through the second set you can see that every player on the other side hates Ushijima - if the scowls and muttered snarls they’re shooting his way are anything to go by. You can’t exactly say you blame them for it either. They’re demoralised and angry, frustrated by the huge Ace and his indomitable force and even though he’s not a part of the team, Tendou revels in it. There’s a song he starts to sing, some inane jig that flows too naturally to have been made up on the spot. You can almost imagine him on the court beside Ushiwaka, singing it after stealing point after point from the other team. The two of them must have made a formidable team on the court.

They still do, you suppose.

You’ve never been one for volleyball, or sports in general, but even you can’t deny the sense of feral anticipation in the air as Ushijima steps up to serve on match point. Tendou has his hand wrapped tightly around yours, leaning forward in his seat to watch the spectacle. You can’t say you blame him.

You might hate him, but you can’t deny that his serves are a sight to behold. Your heart thumps as he throws the balls up, runs and launches himself into the air. His legs are arched, his form perfect and you still can’t quite believe how high he manages to get considering his size -

And then he hits the ball, palm slamming into the leather with a resounding smack - it flies over the net, damn near knocks the poor Libero off his feet as he tries to save it, but even that isn’t enough to stop it. The ball ricochets off his receive, spinning into the crowd and just like that - it’s all over. 

Ushijima roars in victory, and Tendou turns to you, red eyes wild and delighted. You don’t have a moment to breathe, much less prepare yourself before his lips are crashing against your own. 

The deafening cheers of the stadium fade out. 

You can feel his racing pulse as he clutches you close, the unrepentant enthusiasm that pours through him as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, begging for entry. You’re stuck still, frozen in place as your soulmate steals his first kiss.

Somehow when you pictured this moment as a little girl, you didn’t imagine that it would be fear that floods your veins, that the soft, breathless laugh that Tendou gives as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours would scare you instead of making you feel safe and loved.

They walk you home together. It’s unnerving enough with just one of them, but with both your soulmates flanking you you’re more on edge than usual. 

Or maybe it’s the slightly weird energy you can sense between the two of them. Tendou hasn’t stopped grinning since he kissed you and Ushijima still seems a little wired from his win. He hasn’t said much since the three of you left the stadium, but he’s holding you closer than normal, an arm slung low across your back, his fingers brushing possessively along your hip. 

God, Kyoto can’t happen fast enough. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you reach your apartment. They’d offered to take you out for dinner after the game finished - to celebrate Ushiwaka’s crushing victory over ‘those poor assholes’ as Tendou had put it - but despite the pit of hunger in your stomach, you’d politely refused. The less time spent with them the better.

Surprisingly, both Tendou and Ushijima had taken it in stride without so much as a peep.

But now you’re at the front door, keys in hand and Ushijima still has his arm draped around you. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position before, but despite all their gentle cajoling (well, gentle is relative - Tendou whines petulantly and Ushijhima just seems to hover silently like an overgrown bat) they’ve never actually been inside your apartment. 

It’s your one sanctuary, and you very much want to keep it that way.

“Y’know, ‘Toshi and I’ve been thinking,” Tendou begins, snatching the keys out of your hand before you can stop him, chuckling and swatting at you when you try and grab them back. “Me ‘n the big guy, we really do love you, baby - head over heels, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach kinda love. It’s kinda sappy, actually. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”

The key slides into the lock and he twists it, pushing your door wide open. His eyes flash to yours and he grins, bowing as he gestures towards the open apartment. Your open apartment.

An invitation.

You blanch. “Um, I-I don’t think-”

Stupid of you to think you ever had a choice in the matter - Ushijima’s arm is an iron wall against your back, pushing you forward as he crosses the threshold. 

Tendou follows behind the two of you, and the click of the door shutting behind you echoes far too loudly in your small apartment. He tosses the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter - where they always go when you’re at home - and winks at you.

“I mean we are your soulmates so I ‘spose it’s kind of a given.” He shrugs, leaning back against the countertop, folding his arms over his chest. “But we can’t help but notice that you seem a little… uneasy around us. And I get it, baby, really I do. You’re just a little shy - it’s cool.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as Ushijima’s fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your face to the side to meet his intense stare, “You’re being unnecessarily stubborn,” he elaborates.

A flicker of amusement dances in Tendou’s eyes at his bluntness. “We tried it your way - taking it slow and steady, trying to ease you in but, well… I think we can all agree your way isn’t working all that great.”

Your eyes snap back to him, “What?”

His grin widens, “So we figured it’s time we try it our way. We’ve been so good, baby! D’ya have any idea how hard it’s been to hold ourselves back?”

Ushijima’s grip is unrelenting, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically trying to fight your way out of it as Tendou pushes off the counter and stalks over to the two of you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, “Been waiting so long for this. Wanted to fuck you on the tables back in the diner in that cute lil’ uniform of yours.” He smirks down at you, his pupils blown wide and dripping with lust. 

No. No, no, no! You shake your head frantically as he closes in, “Stop, wait! Let me go, LET ME GO! I-I don’t want-”

Your panicked words are cut off as Ushijima suddenly spins you around to face him. His hand cups your cheek, enveloping it entirely, and his broad thumb strokes the soft skin gently. “We’re not going to hurt you, little one. You just need to see - to feel what we feel for you.”

Whatever retort you have is swallowed up as he closes the gap between you and kisses you. He’s demanding - unrelenting - forcing your mouth open so that his tongue can taste yours. Distantly you register Tendou slotting in behind you, the unmistakable bulge that presses against your ass as he attaches himself to your neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers sliding to the hem of your top. “Let your soulmates take care of you, hm?”

It’s not like you’ve ever had a choice in the matter.

[faerienextdoor]

general relationship hcs with (some) pastas

Fair warning, I'm using and hinting at mine and my friends’ writing for these creeps :) enjoy  also as soon as i figure out how to open an ask box, I’ll be accepting requests

Brian:

- oh where to start with this absolute himbo

- he melts around you. like he's your bitch, and you're his.

- he's the type of boyfriend that takes you out in the snow and shoves a handful down the back of your jacket, and laughs until you shove snow in his face

- it is snow war

- it ends with you cuddling him, wrapped in a blanket and content in front of the burning fire he got started just for you <3

- but he also has some weird... habits.

- drinks pickle juice.

- gets his hand stuck in the jar.

- looks at you like 🥺 until you sigh and help him. for the fifteenth time.

- he can cook some basic breakfast foods, and happily breaks out a cookbook to prepare you something as a surprise or to learn something with you!!

- baking with him would be a mess. he forgets flour goes everywhere and now you both look like you took a bath in cocaine

- but the cupcakes are mediocre at best. they aren't absolute garbage, so... cupcake points!

- he worries about how hoodie treats you. he doesn't remember anything when he regains control, but you've reassured him hoodie is just fine.

- and he is

(hoodie)

- hoodie is like a rottweiler or a doberman.

- protective. intimidating. energetic.

- but also a giant fucking baby.

- this large ass man lumbers over and drops to his knees. places his chin on your lap and stares at you from the fabric of his mask until you stop what you're doing and stroke his head awkwardly

- you could swear he does those happy grumbled a rottie does.

- hoodie is silent but shows he loves you just as much as brian does. He strokes your hair silently, even places a kiss to the crown of your head as you sink into his beefy arms.

- he smells nice too. surprisingly.

- but that raises the question: if hoodie showers, does he shower with that damn thing on?

- you won't get an answer if you were to ask.

- brian introduces you to his grandma julia. and she dotes on you.

- the immortal old lady remarks that you’re the best s/o brian has brought to her yet.

Tim:

- a lumberjack man with biceps like a fucking tree trunk

- how'd you land him? give me your secrets (/j)

- he's such a love bug. a tired stressed love bug.

- he finds /every/ excuse to have physical contact with you. it's like a little touch from you reassures him that you're real. you're like a dream to him.

- he's the best for cuddles. He holds you to his chest

- and you get special access to his moobs

- and he gently strokes your head, traces shapes into your back, etc. it's a special intimate moment each time.

- my man's is italian-american but can't cook to save his fucken life

- he always gets your favorite microwave meals though!! he never forgets.

- not feeling good? dw baby he's making it for you <33 shitty low tier bean and cheese burrito coming up

- slowly he learns the basics and surprises you with lunch or even dinner if you're lucky!!

- he loves you so much. and wants you to feel it and know it. all the time.

(masky)

- god where to start with this bitch

- he's not jeff levels of bad ofc, but he's silent and... weird. creepy, some may say. he doesn't mean to be.

- and he's a hard ass. far more strict than tim.

- he follows you around like a giant fucken puppy and will spook you by grabbing you abruptly and holding you tightly

- you can't escape him. he really utilizes his physical strength

- he loves lifting you up and just... holding you. or carrying you off.

- protective and overbearing.

- but tim keeps him under control.

(angst)

- he wouldn't want to lose you like he lost his last wife.

- you find pictures of a woman laying around and a small girl that bears a striking resemblance to her and tim.

- tim goes quiet and questioned but eventually caves and tells you about his family

- or what he used to have

- his wife died and his daughter disappeared.

- it broke him and you're all he has left now

- constantly needs your affection in return to his own

- pls love him

jeff:

- why the fuck would you date him

- he's the absolute worst in so many aspects. But he genuinely tries for you.

- even if his gifts are shitty, it's nice to know he thoughts of you, right? even if it's a half dead flower or a rib torn from a deer caraccas.

- but you get the butt end of his shithead antics. ranch bath, specifically. he smelt like spoiled milk for a week after and you had to cuddle that fucker.

- and don't get me started on mayo bath

- but he still loves finding himself in your arms. or finding you in his. he's demanding affection wise, and will yank you into him for some cuddles. whether you like it or not.

- he isn't one for a lot of pet names, but calls you curse words or "sweetheart" in polish.

- and you get to see the side of him that only shows when he breaks down.

(bit of angst)

- he misses his family and the life he used to have. he'll reminisce what it was like in poland with his mom and family with you, and you sometimes swear you can see his brown eyes gloss over at the memory of her.

- he never talks about his dad, you've noticed.

- don't ask.

- he brushes off heavy conversations with some dumb quip ("wanna see my renegade?")

- he sucks at cooking. god awful at it. but he really tries for you. manages a bowl of oat meal that's edible.

- but he overloads it with sugar and for some reason, salt.

- he's confused. he thinks that's normal (it isn't)

- his idea of a date is napping with you. or rather, forcing you into nap time.

- I mean it when I say this man is strong in a weird fucken way. latches onto you with that iron grip and you won't be able to leave for at least a few hours.

jane:

- ethereal wlw woman.

- could break you with her heels. or a flutter of what eyelashes she has.

- you're lucky to have her, and she's just as lucky to have you!

- she's sweet and charming. very smooth and takes good care of you.

- her love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

- she'll cuddle you all night, and then make you breakfast in the morning.

- she loves showering with you when she's comfy enough around you! it's super intimate and she washes your hair.

- massages the soap into your hair, suds spilling down your neck and back as her fingers scrub circles into your scalp.

- it's heaven on earth. such a domestic life.

- it'll take a while for her to settle enough in the relationship for you to see her without her mask

- you make her feel so loved and wanted

- secure, even.

- she's protective but not controlling or overbearing. shes that type of girlfriend that's just a worrywart and relaxes as soon as you're curled up in her arms. you fit there perfectly, too. like you belong there.

- which you do. at least in her mind

- she has such a gentle touch and hold on you. like she's afraid you'll combust in her arms if she holds you too tightly.

- she loves stroking your hair and having you nap

- using her tiddies as a pillow 👌

(angst)

- she needs affirmation from you when it comes to her scars.

- she thinks that jeff ruined her. permanently marking her once spotless body.

- and she thinks you'll hate her or find her disgusting.

- that's why she freezes if/when you gently slip off her mask.

- she stares at you with those teary green eyes. then leans in and kisses you

- you make all of her worries disappear.

- she's also financially comfortable, but not really rich (on that topic: eat the rich)

- she spoils you every chance she gets. gifts, a nice dinner date, you name it

- she almost spoils you as much as she does her cat Emory

- little shit has the sparkliest fucken collar and acts like he's the shit

- he's your fur baby too now

Helen:

- oh my god this disaster of an art boi

- he's convinced he's the luckiest man in the world (and he might as well be!!)

- he obviously wouldn't have been the one to confess. but it was really obvious by how he painted and drew you constantly, that some feeling for you was lodged into his beating heart.

- he treats you like the finest china. with the most care a man can manage.

- he's the definition of clingy and affectionate from the very start.

- he curls around your sleeping form perfectly when y'all cuddle.

- his hand dances in your hair, soothing you into a dreamless sleep each night without fail.

- he has a magic touch and a gentle voice.

- and he cherishes you so fucken much. (like a simp /j)

- he shies away from kisses at first, but will hold your hand and melts if you hold his face in them!!!

- he's greek, and often speaks sweet things to you in it. he's so comfortable around you that he speaks in his native language to you. that's an accomplishment.

- he loves when you baby him. helen loves being cradled and loved.

- taking a nap with his head on your chest also hits different. he's so in love with you

(angst)

- he's afraid of losing you. who wouldn't be? you're amazing and you love /him/ of all people

- he thinks very negatively of himself. please scold him for self deprecating.

- he always worries he'll wake up and you'll be gone.

- so he holds you extra close at night. and follows you around when you leave for any reason. Trails behind you like a lost puppy in need of a gentle kiss.

- which, is what he essentially is

- and also: pls steal his sweater and wear it. he'll cry over how cute you are.

[zuzuslastbraincell]

For the salty ask game: 6, 10 and 16? <3

6: Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

I never used to like kataang or maiko much, but I’m good with the former and really like the latter now.

while I’m still not a big fan of the kataang (without wanting to write an essay: ember island players ruins it for me), I’ve softened on it a lot largely just from seeing the content for it on here. they’re just honestly very sweet? I don’t know if it’ll last for practical reasons, but the idea of aang & katara offering each other hope from the beginning and until the end is just lovely. 

as for maiko, I absolutely love the strength of mai & zuko’s dynamic (platonic or romantic) just from their boiling rock interactions alone. I feel like a lot of early s3 maiko very much demonstrates that they have some communication difficulties to work through together (thinking about the beach in particular here, but also the ‘are you cold?’ scene, as well as the break-up via letter interaction, that’s the big one) and in a sense mai represents part of zuko’s ‘ideal’ life as a perfect prince that he realises that he has to break from in the first half of s3, but I’ve come around to the idea that if they spent some time working through their communication issues they could really have something lovely? I do also think mai deserves a short break from the stifling culture of nobility/time to explore herself first, but after that? totally could work. like, i’m personally really attached to the gay zuko headcanon and always have been but a lot recent mutuals are maiko shippers and i’ve become very attached to maiko as well because of them (in parallel universes of course).

16: If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

so many things....

1. less racist, more sensitive worldbuilding. crucially better south asian rep, clear south asian rep. this also means including removing the caricature of guru pathik and changing the design of combustion man (and p’li) not to include a reference to shiva. the show’s philosophies and vocabulary owes so much to south asian culture and the lack of representation in that aspect alone is shocking.

2. references to the fact that there are some air nomad survivors / descendents in hiding in various and that being a late s2 / s3 subplot. (maybe aang is still the last airbender tho? but certainly his culture won’t die with him). the culture isn’t perfectly preserved / has changed with time and enduring hardships, some things have been lost, but there are still survivors clinging on, proud. maybe it’s this community that helps with him the avatar state, not a random guru? or they could help him with his s3e1 dilemma about ‘blending in’, as many of them have discarded certain aspects of appearance in order to hide? i feel like this could add so much to aang’s arc in the latter half of the show.

3. better writing of the white lotus, with the white lotus as a international resistance org that operates in all nations, that uses old man’s pai sho club as a front. they’re introduced as opposing the dai li in ba sing se, as trying to organise resistance in secret, have ties to some local revolutionary/radical factions as they have a long standing rivalry with the dai li (& part of the reason the dai li side with azula is to crush the white lotus and resistance to their reign). iroh is not grand lotus but merely gets recruited in s2, as part of a redemption arc.

4. a subtle iroh redemption arc where iroh realises he cannot simply be passive and perhaps let the treasonous thought ”hm, maybe it would have been better if the avatar fought sozin” cross his mind - he needs to take a more active role in opposing the fire nation, and he joins the white lotus. i think he also needs to reckon quite specifically with the cost of the siege of ba sing se, he needs to make amends to those hurt from it on both sides - be confronted by fire nation defectors who left after the siege because why were their deaths less important that his son’s? as well as encounter how the siege left scars on the lower ring, in a less visible way (untrained lower ring residents formed resistance militia and generally died in huge numbers; plague and starvation greatly affected the lower ring, etc.). no iroh as a moral authority here - he’s morally grey trying to become good. also he doesn’t stick around in ba sing se, he realises the jasmine dragon, as lovely as it is, isn’t true redemption either, and at the end of the series he stays in the fire nation.

5. leading into point 3 (and 4): in s3 the gaang encounters and works with grassroots underground resistance in the fire nation. i think this is a better message than ‘oh the fire nation is a soceity ridden by class division that exploits its poorer / less privileged people and its own environment as long as it doesn’t affect the elite, and turns even its most privileged children into traumatised child soldiers and is indirectly hurt by its own colonialism and imperialistic culture, and that’s deeply sad’ - i think a better message is ‘the fire nation is a society with all those problems and you can do something about it. you can stand up. even though that’s scary.’ this resistance group is around for day of black sun (in fact they’re vital to it) and then you see a key member in boiling rock too.

6. no combustion man. honestly? weak writing. would much prefer zuko attempting to ‘stealthily’ track the gaang on the false premise of a ‘welcome home tour’ where he slips out under night to try and chase them down - this would mostly be alluded to in a few scenes. i also think this would get zuko to realise how much the fire nation itself has been hurt from war. i think the main early s3 plot points e.g. the beach episode still happens, as does the war meeting. i feel like zuko would need extra firepower to be a decent s3 threat - maybe he takes mai and ty lee with him? zuko ultimate lesbian ally takes bored lesbians from the palace for a knife throwing chi blocking field trip kjfshdj i’m joking. but seriously we could also have a combustion bender on board as well as a potential new character (i’m imagining someone like a younger p’li if i’m honest, same age range as zuko), as long as they have a character beyond being a scary assassin. maybe they defect early to the resistance group before the day of black sun, tell zuko they should too (but zuko doesn’t listen)? that’d be rad.

7. the existence of grassroots resistance would basically allow for the series to end with zuko being offerred the crown, but deciding to give it up / end the royal line. rather than a power vacuum, or iroh, the existance of resistance means there are clearly people (i.e. adults) who can fill that space. maybe this is a bit optimistic of me but i would just love to set up a scenario where zuko doesn’t become a boy-king of an imperialist nation and where absolute monarchy doesn’t continue, where there’s a clear shift in system. i understand the narrative power of zuko acknowledges he has inherited wealth and power that has been gained through exploitation and imperialism, and dedicating his whole life to undoing the damage his family has done, but i think he can do this without being the fire lord? in fact not being the fire lord is a good first step. zuko finds another way of doing exactly this.

8. talked about this a lot recently but better toph s3 representation & greater ties to the earth kingdom. also, i’d just appreciate a lot more flavour from the earth kingdom as a whole, and more prominent characters from there?

9. okay i’m not sure there is quite honestly space in the narrative for an azula redemption clearly on screen in as much depth as zuko’s but 1. i’d like iroh not to treat her horribly, thanks, and maybe even try to reach out to her at appropriate moments, maybe we see him (comically) say a lovely warm hello during her s2 appearances, maybe we see her play pai sho with him in s3 while he’s in prison in return for some secret info he’s not actually giving her while he’s not-so-subtly suggesting she should defy her father (but it’s too little too late, he already *chose* zuko in her eyes, and perhaps he did and is only just beginning to realise that) 2. i would like some hope and optimism at the end for azula. her breakdown is truly tragic but it feels like pain for pain’s sake in a sense - i would have loved for the finale scene with zuko & ozai replaced with a scene where someone visits azula and tells them they’ll be there for her and/or they love her. perhaps iroh, perhaps zuko (though i think that one would be more complicated obviously). i would love a post-finale scene where iroh sets up a tea shop somewhere in the fire nation where we see azula out the back, finishing up wiping down/mopping the patio, and before aang goes inside to say hi to his friends, we see them bump into each other - azula bows deeply, a clear apology, and aang accepts it. then we see azula runs off to go hang out with some friends before we follow aang inside as he encounters his own friends.

basically i’d rewrite a lot of s3. i’m dearly, dearly attached to s3, especially the second half, which has some of my favourite episodes of the entire season, but i think it’s flawed.

[butlerbarb]

Thoughts (Belphegor x Reader)

this is written from belphie’s pov because i wanted to change my writing up! also written before i got to chapter 15 or whenever u know what happens.

Belphegor hated this. Really, they were just a human. Why was it so hard to ask them something so simple?

Belphegor sighed, pulling his pillow closer to his chest as he curled into his sheets. This was why he hated humans… Well, he didn’t hate them anymore. At least, not this human. Maybe he liked this one. Just a little…

  But! That wasn’t the point. The point was they were getting on his nerves. It wasn’t anything they were consciously doing, but he still didn’t like it. As of late, they were spending more time with his brothers than with him, which was okay most times, but it had been over a week since they had joined him for a nap! Unbelievable, really.

  He had been wanting to ask them if they’d join him, but every time he got them alone, someone would ruin it. Mainly Mammon, but that wasn’t surprising. He just needed one moment. One moment where none of his brothers could interrupt and he would be good as gold.

  In the midst of mulling over his thoughts, he heard a knock at his door. He didn’t bother replying, knowing whoever it was would just let themselves in anyway. From underneath his pile of blankets and pillows, he heard the door open and close. Footsteps approached his bed, and it was silent for a moment before the intruder forcibly yanked the blanket off of his head.

  He turned his head to glare at them, about to curse whoever it was out for barging in and ruining his nap when he realized who it was. Of course, the human had perfect timing. They grinned down at him, eyes bright and full of wonder despite the grumpy look he was giving them.

  “Yo! You’re awake?” They asked, stifling a laugh behind their hand. Belphegor rolled his eyes at them, turning over fully and sitting up. In the space he created, they threw themselves into his blankets, beaming up at him now.

  “I’m awake now, [Y/N]. What do you want?” He murmured, falling back beside them.

  “Ah, don’t sound so happy to see me, Belphie!” They laughed, laying on their side to face him as he laid on his back. He felt their hand rest on his arm gently and had to work to hide the pink that dusted his cheeks.

  “Anyway,” they spoke again, their other hand tapping quickly on their D.D.D. “Do you wanna go to the park with me? It’s been a while since you and I have hung out.”

  Were they a mind reader? Did they somehow know he had wanted to spend time with them? Was Lucifer really sure they had no magic? All questions Belphegor would probably never voice.

  The demon let out a hum, acting nonchalant, stretching his arms and legs into the sky like a cat before he huffed. He didn’t really want to leave the house; it was too much effort for the Avatar of Sloth. He would much prefer to just take a nap with them. He gazed over at them, heart practically stopping at the pouty look they gave.

  “Please?” They pleaded, the sad look on their face only getting sadder. “We can take a nap when we get home!”

  Belphegor sighed inwardly, no way he was getting out of this now while they were looking at him like that. He threw his legs off the bed, standing up as they let out a cheer from behind him. He bit back a smile; their enthusiasm was too cute. He headed to the door and watched them run past him, bolting off down the hall towards the front door.

  Belphegor was lazy, and slow moving. He laughed as the human ran back down the hall to grab his hand, willingly being dragged down the steps. Only once they were outside and well on their way to the park, did they stop dragging him. He noticed they never let go of his hand though. He didn’t mind.

  He let them lead him to park, listening as they talked animatedly about their day. Belphegor didn’t attend RAD, having opted to take online courses like Leviathan, so he enjoyed listening to their stories. Most of the time the stories consisted of how Mammon got in trouble that day, or how Beelzebub almost ate something inedible – though nothing seemed inedible when it came to his always starved brother. He also enjoyed the stories about Satan almost losing his cool on someone, usually Mammon, and putting the entire student body at risk.

  Belphegor didn’t really care what they were talking about, he just liked listening to them talk. It’s a good thing this human is good at talking, he thought as the pair approached the small park. The sun had just started to set, dusting the sky with an orange-y colour that complemented the normally red skies of the Devildom. The perfect time to come here, as all the younger demons had most likely gone home for dinner. It wasn’t exactly the alone time he was looking for, but Belphegor wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.

  The human let go of his hand, Belphegor would have complained had he not watched them run off to the swings cutely. For someone who claimed he wasn’t fond of humans, Belphegor sure warmed up to this one fast. Cute? Did he really call them cute? Belphegor suppressed the urge to groan at himself.

  “Belphie! Come swing with me!” [Y/N] called out to him. Oh, wow, the was the nickname sounded coming from their lips made him weak. He had only had his brothers call him that before, and now having someone so cute calling him such an embarrassing nickname. His heart was going to combust. Ew, did he really just think that?

  Belphie huffed, slowly heading over to the swings to sit beside him. He watched them happily cheer as he sat down on the swing beside him, pumping their legs back and forth to gain more and more height. He shook his head at them as they practically swung over the top bar of the swing set. Belphegor remained still, more content to watch them than actually swing himself. [Y/N] wasn’t having that, however.

  “Belphie! You have to swing. It’s not fun if I’m the only one swinging.” Belphegor gave them a blank expression, his face scrunching up as he yawned then after. They let their feet skid on the ground, bringing their swing to a stop. Standing up off the seat, they made their way behind him, hands resting on his back. He felt them push gently on his back, before the feeling of their hands left. His breath caught in his throat as [Y/N] reached around him. Grabbing hold of his hands they carefully guided them up to the chains, curling his hands around them for him before their hands returned to their previous spot.

  The demon glanced over his shoulder, watching as the human gave him a bright grin as they began pushing him. Their pushes were light, as if they were scared to push him off the swing. Belphie chuckled quietly. He was a demon, a lazy one, sure, but definitely still a demon. A weak human like them could never really hurt him.

  He let himself be pushed, swinging his legs back and forth to do the bare minimum to help. Once he was at a good enough height, they let go of his back, rushing back to their own swing. They caught up to him fairly quickly, their height matching as they swung perfectly in sync.

  “We’re double dating!” They laughed enthusiastically, yet Belphegor was only confused.

  “Double dating?” He inquired, gazing over at them. He watched their cheeks turn a rosy colour, suddenly embarrassed by what they had said. [Y/N] let out a nervous laugh, throwing him a sideways grin.

  “Sorry, it’s a human world thing. Used to say it all the time as a kid, it’s when two swings are in sync with each other!” They explained, Belphegor nodding along with them. He didn’t really understand it. If it was only two swings in sync, wouldn’t that just be regular dating? Belphie shook his head, it didn’t matter that much to him. It’d be nice if this was a date though.

  Belphegor hated his mind for thinking that.

  He was starting to get tired. He’d been there long enough, now he wanted to go crawl back into his comfy bed. They promised to nap with him too. He really wanted that nap right now. He let out a yawn, catching the attention of his companion. They hummed, tilting their head as they smile at him.

  “Tired?”

  “Always.”

  They laughed at that, giving him a nod. Skidding their feet on the ground again to stop their swing, they hopped off, Belphegor following in tow. They grabbed his hand as soon as he stood of the swing, gently tugging him along. He liked the feeling of their hand in his, it was comforting. Then again, everything about them was comforting. The way they said his name, the way their touch was so gentle, no matter what. He also liked the way they ran their fingers through his hair as he fell asleep.

  Belphegor liked this human more than he thought he had.

  The return home was filled with the sound of talking, mostly from [Y/N], Belphie occasionally giving input. Once they crossed the threshold into the House of Lamentation, the youngest brother was quick to drag them up to his room, leaving no room for them to even look at his brothers. He knew if he didn’t, one brother or the next would probably manage to rope them into doing something. Belphegor wasn’t having that.

  The duo clambered into the room, Belphie shutting the door behind him as he pushed the human towards the bed. They laughed as his insistence, muttering something along the lines of impatient much in a fond voice. Belphie ignored it, even though it was true. He was impatient, and very tired, and nothing was going to stand in the way of his nap.

  They fell into bed together, Belphegor quick to find a position he was comfiest in. He situated himself between their legs, his head using their chest as a pillow, arms draped over either side of them. [Y/N] laughed, wrapping their arms around his back, letting their chin rest on top of his head. With a content sigh, Belphegor let his eyes droop close. Seconds away from falling asleep, his pillow moved, and he instinctively let out a growl. They muttered a sorry, letting him lull off to sleep again.

  “I really like you, Belphie.” His pillow muttered. They must have thought he was asleep. He should say something, tell them he felt the same even, but he was just… So tired…

  Belphegor could only hum, sleep taking over his mind. He could tell them in the morning.

  Maybe.

[bangtancentricsblog]

○ red devil ○

➣ the beast from another realm loves a mortal meta human

❒ pairing: min yoongi x reader

❒ genre: fluff, slight angst

❒ alternative universe: hellboy au (tbh idk if I managed to really covey it)

❒ rating: NC 17

❒ word count: 1.3k +

warnings/disclosures: yoongi has a tail, he is indeed red (hence the nickname), mc is institutionalized, the cats have no names, almost smut scene, hellboy yoongi, meta human fire user mc, cameos from human retainer Hoseok, fishman namjoon, Yoongi’s father Seokjin *cough*

monster mash ml • main ml • AO3

It’s dark out when Yoongi makes his way across town, the darkness is his friend after all because people wouldn't take kindly to seeing him in the daylight. He’d rather not be the subject of yet another scandal, especially if his father has anything to do with it. He shivers at the thought, he hated when that old fart gave him lectures especially when looking so damn smug. If anything he much rather prefer the lectures from his know it all amphibious friend Namjoon. His destination is in sight, the building is shrouded in darkness but if he knows anything it’s that you are already waiting for him. He tries not to acknowledge the grin that tugs at his lips, but it’s there.

Your room in the west wing of the facility, basically abandoned compared to the east. He knows it’s because of your powers, it’s for the safety of the normal human patients. His father had gotten them to allow you to keep your cats with you, your children you had liked to remind him whenever he snuck out to see you. He missed those furry little shits but he missed you more. He’s quick to climb the fire escape, one that leads right to your bedroom but also the roof. He can feel his tail flick behind him as he climbs the ladders higher and higher and then comes to a stop on the roof.

Candles flicker as the soft wisps of wind that brush over his cheeks, your back is to him as you sit on the futon spread out across the bed sheets to protect it from dirt. He can hear the soft purrs of the cats that sit in your lap without even looking. The soft crunch of gravel under his boots catches your attention as you glance over your shoulder at him. You smile at him all soft and dreamy just like he’s used to, the cats dart around your body rubbing themselves against his legs as he closes the distance between you.

“Hey.” you breathe softly.

“Hey.” he mimics and this time when the smile splits his lips he can't help himself. He kisses you soft and sweet just how you like. Hands cupping your cheeks, as he presses closer, you sigh taking his lower lip between your teeth. He groans pushing you slowly so you're on your back and his weight rests comfortable against you.

“Missed you.” he whispers, twining his fingers with yours and squeezing gently.

“Missed you more Red.” you mewl spreading your thighs to get him closer. His tail swishes behind him as he shifts again pressing his body tight to yours to really feel the softness of your thighs, and how your body cradles him. You’re empty hand moves to tangle in his hair pulling just the slightest as you kiss at his jaw.

“Want you.” you whine nipping at his neck playfully.

“I know baby, want you too.” He’s kissing you again before he nuzzles your temple, the cats have joined you on the futon rubbing themselves against the two of you. You giggle happily turning your head to kiss them as one of them butts their head against your cheek. Yoongi laughs along with you, wrapping his arms tight around you so he can roll the both of you onto your sides. The soft press of your breasts against his chest reminds him just how long he’s gone without seeing you.

“The babies ruined the mood.” you murmur into his chest.

“Hmm, I don't know about that.” you smack at his chest playfully with a scoff reaching out to pet at your calico that manages to slip in between your bodies comfortably. He’s holding you close pinky resting just above the swell of your ass as he sighs heavily coming to the conclusion that he’s been effectively cock blocked by your furry brats. Still he loves that he can spend this time with you, because he just misses you so much.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.” he breathes, meeting your gaze. There are tears in your lashes and you blink rapidly to try and clear them. They fall anyways as Yoongi coos at you rubbing at your back to sooth you, it works as you begin to hiccup. He’s raining kisses across your face, the salt of your tears on your cheeks are bitter on his tongue and he wished he could do more to comfort you.

“Hey, shh, c’mon don't cry it makes my eyes sweat.”

“M’sorry, I don't like it here.”

“I know baby, but this is for your own good. Just hang in there a little longer.”

“How much longer? I wanna go home.” He doesn't say anything else, just pulls you closer because the truth is he doesn't know how much longer you have to stay here. Hadn’t agreed when Seokjin had admitted you to this facility, but he understood the reasons why he had done so. You were young and struggling with your powers, and spontaneous combustions were a hard thing to explain especially when they were so frequent. The cats, all three of the fur balls hiss at something or someone who has come to interrupt your moment.

“Yoongi, ___.” Hoseok says in a clipped tone. You peek over Yoongi’s shoulder at Hoseok, and he smiles briefly before sighing heavily.

“Always the faithful dog Seok, what does the geezer want?” Yoongi asks miffed.

“You need to get home, and ___ you should go back to your room. The staff is lenient but not that lenient.”

“Sorry Hobi, is Jin mad?”

“No, but he will be if this one doesn't get home soon.”

“Do I have to go? I can stay with her, just for today.” Yoongi whines.

“I’m afraid not, your father wants you home now. To be perfectly honest I’m shocked to even see you made it here unseen.”

“I’m stealthy like a cat.” You burst out laughing as Yoongi looks down at you. You don't mean to but he’s been the center of attention since you’d been admitted. Always caught by some amatuer or security camera as he made his way to see you, and at first you’d been upset because he could get hurt. Then slowly you’d found it funny because how had he gotten caught so many times? It was almost like he’d made it his purpose. Hoseok lets out a chuckle quickly covering it up with a cough murmuring about how cold it is.

“Yoongi please can you just listen to me for once?” Hoseok almost begs because it's always a struggle to get him to leave your side.

“No, not when what I ask for is something this simple.”

“___, will you please say something to him.”

“Can I go with him?” you add rather unhelpfully, but your tone is so hopeful he just wants to give in and say yes. Instead he opts for something a little more helpful to his cause.

“I wasn't supposed to tell you, but you’re being released the coming week.” You dart up and out of Yoongi’s hold, eyes widened.

“Really?” you ask excitedly, as something sparks around you. The cats are quick to leave darting away from the futon as your body ignites and you gape happily at Yoongi. He stares in wonder and not for the first time as the blue flames engulf your being. It’s beautiful as it always has been the shifting colors that wrap around your being, he startled out of his thoughts when you throw yourself at him again. He’s lucky that he and the futon you lay on are flame retardant.

“I can’t wait to go home.” you laugh and cry into his shoulder.

“Me neither.” He whispers into your hair. Hoseok is watching the two of you embrace and he wonders if he should tell Yoongi that he’s been seen, again by some kid with a disposable camera. Well he guess the news can wait until the old man is yelling at him for it, he doesn't want to ruin the moment after all.

[renlimotroll]

Darling, my dreams came true

⚠️ Warning: BL/ Personification/ Imagination/ Out of Character/ Cursing ⚠️

Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with boyxboy.

A/N: I wrote this during ungodly hours, so there might be grammar errors. I’m so stressed with work and this happened. This story was born as I was talking to my friends about my MinSiru imagines and listening to Aimer. Also, this is just my imagination, so please don’t take it seriously.

Enjoy! 🤖🐶

Love, Ren 🌻

Summary: When he’s sleep-deprived, Siruko gets weirdly affectionate, especially towards a certain green head. Everyone knows what’s going on, but of course, Siruko is the last to know about his actions and feelings.

Pairing: 🤖🐶

AU where Bintroll are still youtubers but they live in the same house.

(Story continues below)

It was a great day. The sun was shining warmly outside, and Siruko feels well-rested and refreshed. He stretches then gets up, deciding to check his notifications later and get brunch first. He can smell coffee and something delicious coming from the kitchen. With his luck, Mintosu could be cooking curry and wouldn’t that be the best brunch ever.

He doesn’t know why he felt disappointed that it was Ichihachi cooking, but Ichihachi-kun’s pancakes smells and looks really good so he grabs a plate and forks a piece. Siruko wasn’t aware of the knowing eyes that were watching him carefully as he prepares his coffee. Since Siruko seems to be not fully awake yet without coffee, he didn’t notice how Ichihachi, Quartet, Jiraichan and Hakotaro were side-eyeing each other in a silent communication.

After he had at least drank half of his cup and felt more alert, the purplehead finally noticed the weird atmosphere at the dining table. “What?” He asked. Jiraichan was smirking, Quartet was making weird faces, Ichihachi was looking at everywhere but him, and Hakotaro look so done already even though Siruko doesn’t know for the life of him what he has done to earn that exasperated look on his younger brother. It’s way too early for this. “What?? Shouldn’t I be receiving morning greetings instead of… whatever this is??”

“Well, you certainly have a good morning, don’t you?” Jiraichan raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“Chotto, Jiraisan,” Ichihachi warned.

Siruko was bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Siruko-san! Good morning!” Quartet quipped a little too brightly.

Siruko glared at them suspiciously. “Good.. morning.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake!” Hakotaro shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Niisan, your shirt!”

“Aww there goes our fun.” 🐻

“Way to go Hakotaro.” 🐰

“I wanted to wait and see if Siruko-chan notices it himself.” 🐱

Siruko blinked and followed his younger brother’s words to see.. he was wearing something green. Very green. Something that suspiciously does not belong to him and very particularly belongs to someone else. His face turns bright red like a tomato.

“I-it’s not… I-I’m not… W-we’re not…!” If he could spontaneously combust like a DbD generator with a missed skill check right now, he would. Siruko instantly knew what his friends were thinking and they were wrong!!!… or were they? He’d know if something happened, right? As far as he knows he didn’t really go drinking. He was editing videos and… he does remember Minben-san not letting him drink any more Red Bull, but that was it. He did feel dizzy and queasy yesterday with his migraine, but he didn’t throw up on anyone, right? What the hell happened last night??

Hakotaro rolled his eyes so hard for the second time already even though it’s still early. His older brother was so hopelessly trying to solve what happened that he can practically see equations and formulas appearing from thin air. “Save it Niisan. We all know that–”

“Aaaaah--!” 🐻

“Hakotaro–” 🐰

“Stop–!” 🐱

“When you’re extremely tired, you go to Mintosu-senpai and do… I don’t know what to call that… skinship??” For once, the usually sure-of-himself Hakotaro was at loss for words. “You’re just so affectionate it’s so out-of-character, and you literally have to have some body part of yours touching him! You slump on his back, on his shoulder, on his lap, which, by the way, stopped being funny after the fifth time and just started to become so gross now.”

“F-fifth time??” Siruko definitely did not squeak with a high tone.

Ichihachi cleared his throat. “We stopped counting after the tenth time. And Minben-san always carries you to bed when that happens. He makes a show of complaining about it, but he drops everything he’s doing just to come to your aid.“

“T-t-that..’s n-n-not.. I- uh.. I..”

Jiraichan made sympathetic noises. “If it helps, we’re actually wondering why you can control yourself better when you’re drunk. It only happens when you’re really, really exhausted, like when you’ve stayed up for more than 30 hours.”

“I– what?? S-skinship??”

“You almost punched Quartet-san once because he was trying to make you go to bed and he tried to, and I quote your words, ‘separate Minben-san and I apart!’ ” Ichihachi supplied unhelpfully.

“I– what??” Siruko.exe stopped working and can only ask one-word questions now. It took him a few seconds to process this, and another few to actually believe it. Why are they telling him these... lies?! This can’t be true, right? And why is he only finding out about this now?! Siruko is really starting to re-think considering them his friends, because they’re enjoying this way too much, and they are set on ruining his otherwise perfect morning.

“There goes the bet.” Quartet said nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather.

“BET?? WHAT BET??” Nope, Siruko did not screech. That was a manly scream.

“We guessed you didn’t know you were doing it and we’re right.” Jiraichan explained with a smug smile. “We kinda have a betting pool as to when you’ll realize. Until your dear brother..”

“I’m just sick and tired of this, okay? It’s been a year!” Hakotaro threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Niisan, if you like Minben-san so much then just go confess to him!”

‘W-WHAT??! I-I DON’T–“

“Everybody knows, Siruko-san.” Jiraichan informed him mercilessly, like the psycopath he is. “Us, Hanae-san and the others, even the old lady in the market selling fruits. Everyone.” He put his finger to his lips and looked thoughtful. “Except Minben-san.”

“I–what?” Siruko stammered for the third time.

Hakotaro took pity on his brother, who was doing a perfectly good impression of a Magikarp. “We’re just saying, Niisan, this madness has to stop. You turn into a cuddle monster around Minben-san when you’re exhausted, and the poor man gets a heart attack every time you do. It’s driving all of us crazy, so if you really love your otouto, you’ll get over yourself and confess. Or so help me, I’ll find a locker where I can push the both of you in so you can talk about your feelings!”

“I don’t really do that, do I?” Siruko bit his lip worriedly. He went to the house of the one person in this world who wouldn’t betray him, hoping to get some clarity and possibly some remedy for this whole mess.

“Well…” Gzira look pained to admit it. “Remember when I had to stay overnight last week to help you with Hanachan’s video?”

“Yeah?” Siruko bit his nails nervously.

“You were so tired you were mumbling the theme song of Doraemon.”

“So?? That’s not weird, you know?”

There was an awkward pause, before Gzira resumed. “Backwards… you sang it backwards. It was kinda impressive.” Siruko whined like a child upon hearing that. He’s so close to having a mental breakdown. Why didn’t anyone tell him this? Friends, his ass.

“I was honestly worried and I kept telling you to take a rest, and when I woke up the next day I found out you were still awake. I had no idea what to do, you were so stubborn! So I called Hakotaro over. He said, ‘There’s only one solution to this’ then walked out. When he came back, he brought Minben-san with him.”

“Oh no,” Siruko groaned in despair, feeling his whole face and neck burn with humiliation.

“Yeah. Want me to go on?”

“Ugh.”

“You smiled at him so tenderly and hugged him.”

“No. Stop.” Siruko buried his face in his hands.

“And you called him ‘cuddliest robot ever’. And you practically climbed all over him like a koala. It was so weird I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Like I wasn’t in the right dimension.”

“Mou, Gzira-kun!” Siruko screamed into his hands. So much for the peace of mind he was hoping for.

“Then he carried you to your bedroom. I don’t know what was weirder, you reverse piggybacking him like a beetle on a tree, or Minben-san actually letting you do that.”

Siruko sulked. No way this happened. Although, there was something he was curious about. “What.. what did he…“ he asked, knowing that Gzira would get his message.

“Okay, don’t freak out, but he did look fond. Like, he liked carrying you to bed. I don’t even think he noticed Hakotaro and I standing awkwardly at the side because he was just looking after you. He even patted your hair. He practically melted when you started nosing his neck.. eww by the way.” Gzira made a face, remembering the scene which seemed so domestic.

“Umm…” Siruko could not believe what he was hearing. He… he did that? And Minben-san… did that?

Gzira continued. “Weirdest experience ever. Hakotaro said it was a regular thing. I got surprised when he said that the only person who could convince you to go to bed when you’re past the 30-hour mark was Minben-san. He even included me on the betting pool.”

“I hate you.” Siruko crossed his arm grumpily.

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” He sighed in defeat.

“Look, why don’t you just tell him how you feel? It’s been a year, don’t you think you’ve been harboring these feelings for a long time?”

Siruko can’t even begin to imagine the horror. “No way! Minben-san… he’d never like me that way!”

“Why not?” Gzira challenged.

“You know! I’m just a regular guy! I’m not even good at anything! There’s no reason for him to like me!”

“Siruko-san…” Gzira scolded his friend tenderly. “Stop belittling yourself! You’re the smartest, kindest person I know–okay, well maybe Sensei is that too–but you’re a pretty neat person! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“You’re just saying that coz you’re my friend.” The purplehead pursed his lower lip out.

“No, I’m saying it because it’s true. And as your friend, I want you to stop overthinking things and just, just try to tell him what you feel, okay?”

“What… what if he rejects me?” Siruko whispered sadly.

Gzira sighed internally. He loves his friends, but sometimes they’re just… too dense. He just wished this pining would stop so they can all be happy. “You guys are so perfect for each other, you’re both oblivious idiots. Just trust me on this. Minben-san’s got it just as bad for you as you for him.”

Siruko wished he could believe him, but he just can’t. Dreams are just that… dreams. Like fairy tales are fairy tales. There’s no way that Mintosu would fall for him, and even though that thought hurts, it’s the reality. Mintosu liking him was just… a fantasy after all.

Yes, everybody was wrong. Siruko grumpily mashed his keyboard, trying to clear the level on the game he was playing and failing miserably. His character kept on dying, and it’s frustrating. Once his character got stuck somewhere between two walls, he decided to give up and shut down his computer. He stared at the black screen reflecting himself.

There’s no way Minben-san would like him. Look at him. There are big dark circles under his eyes, his hair was always messy, and he’s thin as a tooth pick. He doesn’t go out of his room that much, he’s not even that good in games, and the only thing he’s good at is maybe memory games. That’s so lame, right? Unlike Mintosu’s friend, what was his name again? Akoroshi. Now that is a talented guy. Knows English, good at singing, really good at games. It’s just impossible. That’s why he never confessed. He couldn’t even begin to compare with that guy. And what if Mintosu rejects him? Then the friendship he tried so hard to treasure will be gone, it will be awkward as hell since they are all practically homesharing, and maybe he’ll lose the only connection he has with Mintosu. So no way. He’d never confess.

It was a bit hard to avoid Mintosu because you know, housesharing, but Siruko feels like he’d done a pretty good job. He thinks he’s done really well in monitoring if he’s reaching 30 hours of no sleep or managing his exhaustion levels so that no embarrassing thing could ever happen again. He had to vigilantly avoid doing things that was second nature before, like falling asleep on Minben-san’s shoulder during movie night or hitting each other’s knees while playing Mario Kart, because they were just friends! Only friends! It was probably awkward for Minben-san to help not carry him to bed, and maybe the guy was doing it out of some friendly obligation or guilt, and Siruko never wants to put anyone in a situation like that where one forces his friends to do something for him. He keeps his distance now, toning down his actions to just behind the friendship lines, and plasters a smile on his face while pretending he doesn’t see the confused, slightly hurt looks Mintosu was showing as he avoids him.

It was almost successful and he could probably live like this for the rest of his life (hiding his pain) until his so-called beloved friends, his family even, corners him in the kitchen, the place where it all started. Siruko should seriously consider finding his own place to live.

“You’re being very ridiculous right now Siruko-san, and I don’t have much patience for ridiculousness.” Jiraichan says in a tone that means he’s about to pull out knives from his jacket. Very pointy knives that he likes using. “It’s bad enough the bet was cancelled. That was the only thing keeping me from locking you two in a vault and welding the bolt shut so you two can finally make out.” Siruko flushed red when the images came to mind, but shook his head. It was just a stupid fantasy, it didn’t make his heart clench painfully at all. Nope.

Quartetchi followed up immediately. “Sorry Siruko-san. It was fun when there was a bet in place, but now it’s just annoying. You two are the biggest pair of dense idiots in the world.”

“Look Niisan, before, you and Minben-san just irritated me when you both flirted with–”

“We do not–!!” The older brother interrupted indignantly.

“Yes you do!” Hakotaro almost raised his tone in frustration. “You bicker like an old married couple, and as much as it irritated me to see my Niisan and my senpai flirting but not even knowing they do, now it feels like whatever sanity I still had has just gone and you both are being so… so… gaaah!”

“What Hakotaro means to say is,” Ichihachi tried in a gentle tone, “you guys are playing the biggest game of chicken in the world. It was fun when we could tease you both about it and make money out of your hopeless romantic-ness, but now that we can’t, we need you to get your heads out of your asses and do something about it or we will.” He threatened calmly.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about!” Siruko raised his arms wildly in desperation, his voice breaking. Why can’t his friends just leave him and his misery alone? “Minben-san and I are just friends! What do you want me to do?!?!”

“Oh my god Siruko-san!” Quartetchi complained. “If I didn’t love you as a friend I’d bash your head in that marble sink! How can you be this dense? Aniki’s been walking around with this sour, grumpy face like someone set his PC on fire, and you’re acting like a hurt puppy! A hurt, cruelly-kicked puppy! This has to stop!”

“Mintosu-san LIKES you, Niisan!” Hakotaro emphasized on the like. “How could you miss that? How do you not see--”

“He doesn’t!” Siruko crossed his arms stubbornly. “He’d never! Why would he–”

“If you finish that self-depreciating sentence, I will take out my mines and let you explode right there!” Jiraichan narrowed his eyes. Siruko gulped.

“Okay, that’s it! I’m done. Guys help me.” Quartet suddenly hauled Siruko’s arms up, and Ichihachi grabbed both his feet and lifted it up. The Bintroll leader yelped in surprise and tried to struggle, but Jiraichan and Hakotaro glared at him with that ‘If looks can kill’ face, and he can’t really do anything, not unless he wants to drop like a sack of potatoes to the floor painfully. Jeez, the grips of these two are so tight!

They dragged him upstairs to Mintosu’s room, where he was streaming APEX. Jiraichan opened the door with a bang so loud Mintosu jumped from his seat and hit his knee on the table. Hakotaro grimaced internally, that looked painful. Mintosu let out a string of profanities that shocked his viewers.

“What the fuck’s goin on??!”

The viewers were all alarmed and the comments flew so fast in the chat stream, all wondering what happened to their favorite green robot gamer. Bloodhound died, and Mintosu had to return to the main screen. Suddenly, a purple blob was dumped into his lap and a scream of pain was heard. Mintosu winced and turned off the mic.

“What the fuck guys?! I told you not to come in when I’m–” oh. Siruko-san. Siruko-san was on his lap, grimacing in pain at being dumped unceremoniously. Mintosu’s brain short-circuited and he could only blink.

“Minben-san, my Niisan likes you. A lot. And we know you like him too. I know you think you’re being subtle when you think Niisan’s not watching, but we’re not idiots like him. We know. Everyone does.”

“I- what…” Mintosu unknowingly echoed Siruko’s words from before.

“Just kiss already you idiots!!” Jiraichan yelled with his high-pitched voice. For all his size, he’s really scary when he’s angry. “C'mon guys, let’s go!” The pink fairy stomped angrily and headed out, while the others followed suit. At least Quartet and Ichihachi had the decency to apologize. Siruko thinks he needs to find new friends, they’re so rude!

Before Hakotaro closed the door, he glared daggers at Mintosu, “Look, I can’t say I like the idea of you making out with Niisan, but you make him happy, so please keep doing so. If you ever hurt my Niisan, I know Limone-sensei and everybody else will help me bury your body where no one can find it.” Mintosu nodded, believing the younger one will totally do that. Siruko flushed red upon hearing his brother’s shovel talk.

"I’m really happy if you guys finally get together, but please remember to get your hands off of each other and keep the PDA to a minimum, at least when I’m around.” And with that, the blonde closed the door. The silence that followed was really uncomfortable, and Siruko prays, Ground, swallow me up!!, wondering if it was possible to die out of humiliation.

“So… umm…” Min-san sees the flow of comments asking where he is out of his peripheral view, but he couldn’t care less, not when the person he’s been crushing on for a long time is blushing so hard on his lap right now, and he looks really adorable. Mintosu had wanted this. For so long. If this is a prank, he’s going to kill those guys. But he wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, he has a chance.

Siruko stubbornly refuses to look at him out of embarrassment, and Mintosu just rolls his eyes, even though he’s flustered too. Whatever, he thinks, because he’s never going to let Siruko go after hearing that. He rearranges him in a more comfortable position and mutters, “Okay, before I start the stream again, I’m gonna get this out. I like you, so fucking much, so after this we’ll talk and maybe get some food. Now, stay still and stay quiet.” Mintosu shakes his head to rid of his jitters, places his fingers on the keyboard and mouse, and turns his mic on. “Sorry bout that minnasan, there was a little bit of a commotion, just the bintroll guys messing around, but everything’s fine now. Really fine!! In fact, I’m feeling so good today, I might even get diamond today! Watch out! Hahahaha!” And the fight is on.

Once or twice, Siruko tries to wriggle his way out, but frankly Mintosu feels very warm around him, and being encased around his arms just makes him feel all sorts of giddy and calm at the same time. Mintosu just growls softly when Siruko tries to move so he gives up and watches his.. wait–are they boyfriends now?– maneuver Bloodhound perfectly and get a few kills. This is so embarrassing but at the same time, it’s all he ever wanted. He’s so happy he could just burst. Part of him wonders if he’s dreaming, but that dump was really painful so this must be real. Mintosu rests his chin on his shoulder, and any disbelief of reality he has disappears quickly, because that weight on his shoulder can’t be fake. Soon Siruko feels very sleepy and warm, and even though his heart still feels like it will burst out of his chest, maybe, just maybe, he can start to believe that Mintosu actually likes him back. Mintosu is actually warm and surprisingly comfortable even though he’s talking gibberish and laughing loudly in his ear, and Siruko starts to nod off against the gamer’s chest a few times. He doesn’t understand why he feels sleepy, but he can just always blame Minben-san later.

He blinks blearily when Minben-san carefully slots him into his bed, and the green guy turns off the lights and covers them with his blankets. It smells like detergent and Mintosu and home, and this isn’t the situation he had always imagined being on Minben-san’s bed, but it’s not that bad especially when Minben-san pulls him in and drapes his arms over him for a cuddle. Minben-san without his glasses always makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter, especially now that they’re so close he can practically feel Minben-san’s warm breath and heart beating loudly in his chest. The thought that Mintosu also feels whatever he is feeling is strange but comforting.

“Minben-san,” he whispers, so as to not disturb the electric peace in the atmosphere of the room, “they said we’re idiots.”

Mintosu chuckles and Siruko really likes it when he does that. “Maybe we are. Is that why Sensei keeps telling us that?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re idiots in another sense.”

“Tashikani.”

“So… you’re not into… Akoroshi-san?”

“What? No way! Yuck! I’ve never been interested in him that way! He’s just my best friend, that’s all.” Mintosu pauses. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Mmmmmm, maybe...?” Siruko sheepishly mumbles.

“Idiot.” He flicks Siruko’s forehead, resulting into the purplehead pouting cutely. Mintosu thinks he wants to kiss him, but he’s also content with this right now. “It’s you I like. A lot.”

“Why?” Siruko sounded so unsure and lost. Mintosu hates that. He knows that the purplehead tends to be insecure sometimes, which is absolutely absurd. If he could only see that everyone loves him, he would never second-guess himself.

“I just do. Honestly, why wouldn’t anyone? You’re amazing and everything. If anything, I thought you wouldn’t like me.”

Siruko starts to chuckle and Mintosu joins him. “Okay, maybe we really are idiots.”

“Right.”

“And for your information, I like you too. A lot. Actually, maybe I love you.”

Mintosu snorts. “Okay, then ‘maybe’ I love you too.“ Siruko smiles sleepily at that, and Mintosu’s heart skips a beat or two. “You know, you actually told me these a few times before, but I thought you were just being delirious or maybe hallucinating. You’re an idiot who really needs to sleep more.”

“As if you do! You’re just as bad as me, maybe even more!” Siruko wrinkles his nose angrily, and Mintosu thinks cute. “But.. really? I said that? That’s… embarrassing! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna take anything your sleep-deprived brain says seriously. Once, you talked about giant ducks and how they’d take over the world one day. You mumble so many weird things, you idiot.”

That… was definitely weird. He can’t really blame his friends for staying away from crazy, sleepy him.

“Plus, well, maybe I like sleepy, idiotic Siruko-san.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. He can’t believe that Minben-san really put up with all of that craziness, but it did lead to this now, and Siruko decides to just stop doubting everything and take whatever happiness he can get. “Whatever. Sleepy Siruko likes you too, so shut up.”

Mintosu huffs, but his fingers run through his purple hair, and that feels really good. Siruko really wants to savour this moment, but his eyes are getting droopy and he doesn’t think he can keep them open.

“Sleep.” Mintosu orders softly.

“Hmmm…” Siruko answers sleepily. “Good night Minben-san.”

Well, what do you know, dreams do come true after all.

It was a great day. The sun was shining warmly outside, and Siruko feels well-rested and refreshed. Mintosu was cooking curry while he was preparing the coffee pot. Nothing really changed after last night, they still bicker a lot and tease each other to death, but this time, there are more leaning-to-each-other and maybe more skinship between them. It was a good morning. The four other Bintroll members were watching the strange love-hate interaction with fond but exasperated eyes.

“Anyone wanna have a bet? I’m betting six months before their first kiss.” 🐻

“C'mon, give them a little credit.” 🐰

“They wouldn’t have made it if Hakotaro didn’t interfere.” 🐱

“Yeah, and I would have won the bet.” 🐻

“No, you wouldn’t!!” 🐰

“Hmm… my bet is a week.” 🐱

“Uh, no way Ichihachi! It took them a year to tell each other that they like each other–actually no, without our help, it would have taken more than a decade! You really think they would kiss in a week?” 🐰

“Yeah! Just place your own bet!” 🐱

“But–” 🐰

Hakotaro drowned them out. Sometimes it’s really tough being the only sane member of this household, but this is family, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s happy as long as everyone is happy, even though everyone is an idiot.

“Finally.” He sighs to himself, seeing his brother and his senpai smiling, and moves to break up the ongoing fight between a kiss that’s really not their business.

It was just a normal brunch in the Bintroll household, but everyone is laughing, and this is happiness. Siruko really appreciates this second family he has, and if he moves to hold Minben-san’s hand under the table, well, sue his boldness.

“Ne~ aishiteru~” he says in his heart.

[A/N: I hope you guys like it! It’s been a year since I last wrote a story and my skills are a bit rusty haha. Also, it’s my first time posting a story on tumblr! It was fun coding but also so frustrating! My good friend cm made the pic! Thanks cm! Visit me on Twitter! Anyway, have a nice day! Panyanyanda!]

🌻

Owari~

[blkmxrvel]

lover.

Pairing: lena luthor x fem!reader (though it could read gender neutral)

Words: 1.4k

Request: Hey! Prompts 19 and 29 for Lena Luthor x reader, please. Love your writing^^

Summary: “i’ve loved you now three summers honey, and i want them all.”

Warnings: mentions of self hate, kinda (?), canon lena emotions. 

A/N: so this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away lmao! this was so beautiful to write. i love writing for lena the most she’sso just amazing and you can do so much with her. but! listen to lover as you read this, the song itself. it’s been on replay since i came out and i wanted a fic for it! it wasn’t planned but it fits so well lmao! i’ve missed writing so much omg. enjoy x 

-

you’ve had a crush on lena for as long as you could remember. you had first met her through alex. she invited you to karaoke night at the bar and you just couldn’t refuse. you had just moved into national city and you figured it was about time you started to branch out and meet new people.

from the moment you saw lena, you immediately pulled to her, as she was to you. not love at first sight, you didn’t believe in that. maybe... comfort at first sight.

there was just something about her that made you always want to be around her. maybe it was the way her eyes lit up when she smiled at you. or maybe it was the way she protected you and cared about you, and always shown it. maybe it was her hugs, how she always smelled of apples and old wood; an odd combination, but one that made your heart melt every time.

either way you were head over heels for lena lillian luthor, and you were sure you didn’t want to stop it.  your soul was attached to hers, constantly chasing it and seeking it out, and lena welcomed it, she welcome all of you. who were you to put an end to that?

albeit inseparable, you and Lena were polar opposites, in every sense of the word. you were someone who always had your heart on your sleeve, your emotions were always so easy for anyone to decipher lena, on the other hand, only felt a sense of danger and regret when she was vulnerable. all her life she had been trained and taught that the less emotions you showed, you felt, the better.

maybe that’s why she was feeling so conflicted now.

lena was absolutely enamored with you. she was obsessed and loved everything about you. the way your laugh cracked whenever she told a terrible joke. the way you’d always lean into her when you were cold, whether you knew it or not. how your eyes were always so big and bright, how you were so big and bright. you sparkled and shined and radiated greatness from a million miles away. and the fact that you did it so humbly and beautifully, gracefully without a hint of effort, snatched her heart.

lena lillian luthor was in love you with. she was falling harder than she’d ever allow herself to do before.

she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it.

love is weakness. emotions only cloud your judgement. everyone you ever get close to ends up hurt because of you. you’re nothing but a walking time bomb,

lena thought self-destructive thoughts about herself day in and day out. she wanted to believe all of those things. she wanted to completely cut herself from you, force you out of her life for your own good. so you wouldn’t get hurt.

lena was toxic, all she ever did was hurt. and she wanted to believe that, she really did.

but how could she went you looked at her like she put the stars and sky, and aligned them so perfectly so that you two could meet. when you spoke to her so softly that it almost always lulls her to sleep. you were the only person who has never judged her for her last name, or the things she done in her past. how could she push you away when all you did was love her when she couldn’t love herself, hold her when she felt everything crumbling around her, and ground her when she didn’t know what was real?

she couldn’t. she couldn’t allow herself to hurt the both of you by feeding into bullshit her family and the media filled her head. she had to get away from it, not only for you, buy for herself.

which is why she allowed you to be in her arms at 3am, laying on the couch while you watched netflix. just you, though. lena was too busy in her head as the scratched your scalp.

you two have been here before. lena knew you loved her, she could see it in your eyes and feel it in your hugs. she knew you weren’t sure if she returned the feelings. she knew how much it was hurting you not knowing, why you just let her lead you on; because having her in some way was better than not having her at all.

but that’s the thing. you had lena, in every possible way imaginable. you had lena’s heart wrapped tight around your soft, gentle finger. she trusted you with everything her, loved you with even more than that. she just....was too scared to tell you.

but she had to. no matter the outcome. no matter the response. her love for you was bursting at the seams and she was tired of trying to sew them back together. it was now or never.

“y/n/n?” you hummed as your arms wrapped around her tighter. you were half asleep, the steady thump of her heartbeat putting you to sleep.

“i have something i need to tell you.” her words didn’t raise your attention, it was the fact that her heartbeat increased in speed. you thought she was going to have a heart attack.

you lifted your head up to look at her, wide eyes and a concerned face. lena nearly combusted.

“is everything alright?”

“i’m pretty sure it will be i just-” lena took a deep breathe and closed her eyes.

inhale.

“you can tell me anything, you know that.” lena nodded, of course she did.

exhale.

“i think i’m in love with you. and that scares the crap out of me. because all my life i’ve been told that i was unlovable and that love was  just a game. and that your emotions only make you weaker.” you opened your mouth to speak but lena shook her head. she needed to get this out.

“everyone i love gets hurt because of me. i have so many enemies and somehow they always take what i cherish most and ruin it. maybe that’s my fault but i... i don’t want them to ruin you. but i love you so much that i can’t allow that to stop me anymore. i can’t let the words of people who don’t even care about me control my life when you’re here everyday caring about me, and loving me. it just isn’t fair, we both deserve better.”

lena had a definitive look on her face and her took yours in her hands. “we deserve better, and i can give us better. i don’t want to believe them anymore, i can’t believe them anymore. not when i have someone like you showing me better. i love you...y/f/n. i love you with every fiber of my being and i don’t want to stop anytime soon.

by the time lena was finished, the both of you have tears flowing down your faces and smiles on your lips. you pulled lena in for the tightest hug possible, telling her that you love her back, so much, and that you were proud of her for everything. you loved her, for everything she was and will be.

when you pulled away from the hug, you both stared into each other eyes. so much to say but not enough words to say it. lena’s hands went back to your face, her thumbs wiping at the tears that fell.

“do you want to kiss as much as i do right now?” you whispered. the moment was so precious, so delicate that you know if your voice was any louder, everything would disappear.

lena nodded immediately, a shy kiss me, please falling from her lips. it barely made it past her tongue before you grabbed the back of her neck and pressed your lips to hers.

kissing you was everything lena dreamed of. you were so soft, so fragile, she felt that in the kiss. but she also felt the passion, the fervor, the love each second her lips were on yours. your souls rejoiced, danced in the darkness of lena’s room. the tangled and amalgamated next to the soft hum of the TV. two people, so unalike, so in love. an unbreakable, unlikely pair that will last forever.

lena sighed into her love’s mouth. she released every single worry, every single doubt and stress she ever had about herself and you. you were hers, and she was yours. it wouldn’t end in tears and heartbreak, not this time. this time was different, you were different.

lena understood that now.

love makes you stronger. emotions make your wiser. everyone you get close to feels your love, and they carry it with them for eternity. you are nothing short of greatness.

and fuck anybody else who tells her otherwise.

[chrysalispen]

Prompt #27 - Palaver

aight y’all i got asked for nero/wol wedding fic and since it fit today’s prompt, here’s the whole thing

ask and ye shall receive, etc etc

=========

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting me go through with this,” Nero said yet again, resuming his agitated back-and-forth pace about the cathedral vestibule. He’d worried his cufflinks undone for the third time in the last half-bell, and he still hadn’t managed to get his cravat fastened. “You’re supposed to save me from my matrimonial fate, and here you are consigning me to it instead.”

“You did this to yourself. Hold still.” It took him a few tries but Cid was finally able to intercept the other man’s circuit over the ancient stones of the church long enough to grasp him by his wrists. “And stop fidgeting with your cuffs, this is the last time I’m fixing them for you.”

“This is all your fault, you know.”

“…How is this my fault?”

“Well, I don’t bloody know, but clearly it’s your fault, Garlond. Otherwise that makes it my fault, and I don’t like that.”

Cid almost laughed, but the wild shine in those eyes told him that would be extremely unwise. He hadn’t seen the other engineer this anxious since he was a young boy; Nero was such a tightly controlled man under most circumstances that it could be difficult to tell what was actually running through his mind, but in this instant the stress had worn down his emotional defenses, and the poor man was perilously close to panic.

So, he decided to pick a fight with him.

“You gave her a ring, bent the knee, the whole nine yalms. What did you expect her to do, turn you down?”

“Yes! No. I… don’t know.” His fingers twitched, obviously wanting to go right back into his hair or to his cuffs, but Cid slapped them away and kept working at the fabric. “The Warrior of Light has any number of admirers and assorted hangers-on, you know that.”

“So she does. And you’ll notice she isn’t marrying any of them.”

“And if something goes wrong? If she decides this isn’t really what she wants?” At his exasperated sigh, Nero snapped, “It could happen and you know it.”

“What could happen?”

“She could simply leave me at the altar, for one.” Cid did laugh, then. Nero shot him a withering glare the likes of which he hadn’t seen since their Academy years, and he noted with satisfaction that the other man had mostly stopped fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Tell me you aren’t actually being serious, Nero. This woman has seen you at your absolute sodding worst. You were her enemy once. You tried to kill us-”

“Point of order, I was not trying to kill her. Or you.” A pause, then the ghost of a smirk. “Perhaps I might have liked to singe your short hairs a bit. The notion of hauling your arrogant carcass about the castrum in one of those claws like a scruffed kitten was half the appeal of deploying them in the first place.”

Cid rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for making my point for me. As you’ve so helpfully demonstrated, Aurelia knows what a pillock you are. She’s seen it for herself.”

“I am not a pillock.”

“Yes, you are, Nero. And she knows it and she still said yes. That has to be worth something.”

“…I suppose,” the engineer groused.

“She’s not going to leave you standing in the vestibule,” Cid grunted, pulling the silk tie around the taller man’s neck as taut as he could manage without choking him, then arranging the knot. “She’s just running a bit late, that’s all. It happens- don’t you dare touch those cuffs.”

Nero scowled, but his hands dropped back down to his sides.

After a few moments spent in silence as Cid examined his work on the cravat with a critical eye, he finally said: “I’m happy for you. You know that, right?”

“Don’t get sentimental. I’m barely keeping my breakfast down as it is.”

“Shut up, you great lout, I’m talking.” He busied himself pinning the Nymeia lily back in its place on Nero’s lapel; it had fallen askew with all the pacing. “We’ve known each other since we were boys and in all this time, I never thought you’d take interest in anything that wasn’t related to magitek. But you weren’t happy in the Empire any more than I was, and lest you think otherwise I know full well that was why you didn’t warn anyone I’d planned to defect. I never understood why you stayed.”

“You know very well why I stayed.”

“Aye, I do now, for all the good it ever did you. You’re happier as a defector than you ever were as a tribunus. Not the least of those reasons being you finally found someone willing to put up with you, and out of all of the women in Eorzea – hells, Hydaelyn – of course it had to be the Warrior of Light. I’ll give you this, you never did do anything by half-measures.”

Nero hesitated, then offered him a rueful, lopsided smile.

“On that much, I suppose we are in agreement.”

Cid reared backwards, clutching his chest in mock surprise. “Hells below, did we actually reach consensus on something? Does this mean marriage might actually turn you agreeable for the nonce?”

“Agreeable? You think a walk down the aisle with the woman I love means I shall march in lockstep with you, Garlond? And risk destroying the fundamental underpinnings of our relationship? Perish the thought.”

Nero’s smile had stretched into that toothy, idiotic grin he normally hated, the one the man used when he was getting ready to tease. But this once, just this once, Cid Garlond grinned back at the cocksure git that passed for his best friend in the world.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh, she’s here!” someone gasped out in the foyer. “And the Count’s with her! Places!”

There was the sound of hurried whispers and the patter of feet, and the rustling sound of silk, followed by the deep creak of the doors opening on their ancient hinges.

“I’m going to be ill,” Nero muttered, and further inspection revealed that he was shaking from head to toe. Somehow, Cid marveled, he was actually vibrating in place, as though he were an idling combustion engine.

With a short laugh, he took the man by the elbow and held him fast–both to keep him from making good on his threat, and from bolting for the door like a spooked animal. 

“Just mind you don’t ruin your bride’s dress if you are,” he said, “because she’s coming into the foyer as we speak.”

Cid just so happened to be looking right at his friend’s face as aforementioned bride entered the cathedral with Edmont de Fortemps as her escort. He was glad in retrospect that he did, for he was rewarded with the quite remarkable view of watching a man fall in love all over again, in real time.

It was in his eyes, he thought. Despite being rather passionate by nature, Nero was not outwardly expressive when he did not care to be - lessons, Cid assumed, he’d learned during his wheat-counting days. But those frosty eyes had turned bright and soft and warm, like the spring sky at midday. He had stopped shaking, and the tension in his slender frame had all but disappeared.

All he appeared to see in that moment was the Warrior of Light–who was herself, admittedly, quite a vision. Jandelaine had overseen her preparations personally, being a good friend of hers, and the eccentric aesthetician had outdone himself this time in every sense of the word. He had arranged her hair in a long spill of golden curls over one shoulder, interwoven with orange blossoms and forget-me-nots secured into myriad small braids throughout her coiffure. Combined with the lavish, lace-trimmed dress she wore, it was a sight to knock the breath from the lungs.

The old Count was murmuring something to her, something that made her smile, laugh softly, and kiss him on the cheek with the sort of familiar fondness reserved for parental figures–that was right, he remembered; in the eyes of Ishgardian law she was technically a Fortemps, though he was fair certain that the man’s fatherly affection for her was in no wise any sort of mummery.

Edmont dropped his arm from hers and stepped back, leaning on his walking stick. She approached the two men on slightly slowed, hesitant footsteps. Her eyes were fixed on Nero, and they were very blue and very wide.

After a moment, she smiled her usual smile- albeit with perhaps a touch of shyness- and Cid heard an exhalation at his side.

“See?” he said. He released his death grip on Nero’s arm. “You’ll be fine. Now go see to her. If you need me then give a shout, but I don’t think you will.”

Almost instantly, it seemed, it was just the two of them, the sound of retreating footsteps, and a closing door. Music played from the hall beyond, muffled and ponderous, and they regarded each other in a sort of awed and awkward silence.

Then Aurelia grinned from ear to ear and started to snicker in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

“Gods,” she blurted. “I feel ridiculous. Look at me. I look like a window advertisement for lampshades sold to bored Ul'dahn housewives.”

“You didn’t have to say yes when I asked, you know.”

“Of course I did. I couldn’t very well turn you down after you were half-dead from panic just trying to ask at all. As it was, you almost immediately started trying to talk me out of it.”

Nero glared at her. “I was nowhere near that bad.”

“Oh yes you were. You were being very reasonable about it all, too, coming up with a half dozen perfectly good reasons why I’d be stark raving mad to even consider accepting your proposal.” The edges of her smile softened. “But anyroad, we’re here now.”

“So we are,” he said.

There wasn’t much left to say that hadn’t already been said, and Nero wasn’t entirely sure he could find the words to say even if that weren’t the case. He could feel the anxiety creeping up on him again by ilms, running its invisible fingers up his spine. 

She must have noticed; he saw her expression darken a bit with her concern.

“Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

He began to say of course I’ll be all right, let’s just get on with it, but what came out instead was:

“Seven hells, all this godsdamned palaver for two rings and five minutes of vows. Are you quite sure you’d not rather elope?”

“Right,” Aurelia snorted. “We can run away to Dravania and get married by the moogles. Though I’m not sure ‘now you may kiss the bride, kupo!’ is terribly binding in the eyes of the law.”

“And I don’t know that goblins actually have marriage traditions of any sort, so I suppose that settles it. Bugger.” He ran a thoughtful hand over his currently clean-shaven jaw.

“I suppose we’d best–oh, Nero, wait!” She reached into his pockets, heedless of his sudden flush. “Your gloves.”

“…I’d hoped you might forget about those.”

“No, you have to wear them, at least for the first bit. Here, hold out your hands, I’ll put them on.”

Biting back a sigh, he obediently held out his left hand.

She bent over his forearm, one of her slim healer’s hands bracing his wrist delicately in one hand as she slid the kidskin over his fingers, smoothing it out with the deft and gentle touch of a woman well accustomed to such trivial luxuries, and it struck the engineer then just how strangely intimate the act was. Such a simple thing, the act of putting a glove on his bare hand, but something he knew no one else would have done in quite the same way.

Once she’d fastened the little pearl-button closure to fit the glove properly, Aurelia lifted his hand, and placed a small kiss to the smooth skin of his inner wrist, where the base of his palm met leather. Intimate, indeed. He swallowed, hearing the sound of it click in his ears.

“Hand me the other one?” he asked.

She did. Hastily he slipped the remaining glove onto his other hand, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much she’d flustered him.

“You know,” she murmured, her grin edging into something almost wicked, “that kiss would have had the ton all aflutter and speculating, back home.”

“Would it?”

“Mm. Absolutely scandalous in polite society, as it happens.”

“Us? Polite society? And here I thought we were just a couple of especially dodgy imperial defectors borrowing Saint Reymanaud’s on a lark.”

Aurelia’s soft laugh echoed against the stones beneath their feet. 

“I think that Halone, on the wild off chance she might actually exist beyond the fond hopes of the masses, would be willing to forgive a couple of godless heretics just this once given their history of service to Ishgard,” she said. “So, Scaeva- are you ready for us to go make an utter spectacle of ourselves in front of the assembled leadership of an entire continent?”

Beneath the finery and the fuss and bother of the event, he could still catch that lavender scent about her, and her smile was the same smile it had always been–the smile he especially loved to see when he knew it was meant just for him. Bit by bit the not-so-secret fears he’d harbored that she might renounce him publicly at the altar, or simply not show at all, dwindled to nothing.

For all his outward self-assurance, Nero knew he wasn’t really worthy of her: not just as the Warrior of Light, but as the very mortal woman she was. He was painfully aware of that fact, had always been aware of it. But that said, neither was anyone else he could have named. As Garlond had said, she had her choice and she’d chosen him, and that had to count for something.

Besides which, he loved her. And maybe that was a place to start.

With that thought squarely in mind, he held out his hand, and let her clasp it in her smaller one.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said aloud. “Shall we?”

She nodded, still smiling.

“On my count,” she said. “One, two-”

And beneath the Fury’s watchful gaze, Nero Scaeva and Aurelia Laskaris stepped across the threshold together, hand in trembling hand.

[johnny-and-dora]

call me, maybe

"There’s this one second where they’re just half-smiling at each other awkwardly and she’s the only thing that even matters in the room and maybe even in the entire world and it’s, uh, nice, as seconds go. One of the better seconds he’s had, definitely."

or, the one where jake peralta is already falling fast and hard when amy santiago asks for his number (for work purposes only, obviously) and something that vaguely resembles his idea of flirting ensues. read on ao3 read the headcanon that inspired this fic

“Can I have your number?”

“Wh-what?” Jake looks up from his computer, swivelling a little too quickly in his chair, squinting as his eyes finally adjust to see her standing over him – Amy Santiago, the Nine-Nine’s newest detective and his newest pain-in-the-ass. Like usual, her arms are folded, and her shiny black hair is drawn into the neatest ponytail he’s ever seen - but her natural condescending expression (she’s spent the last few weeks talking down to him like he’s a child because of that one time he got a gummy worm stuck in her hair) is replaced by a half shy one that he doesn’t think he’s seen since the first time they met.

He prays to every imaginable deity out there that she hasn’t noticed how his cheeks have flushed a heavily embarrassing shade of pink as he slowly realises what she said.

He kind of just stares at her for a second, trying to process what she’s asking of him – Amy Santiago wants his number. Amy Santiago, who has spent most of her time at the Nine-Nine so far stressing out over his eating habits (“Peralta, for the last time, fruit flavoured sweets are not part of your five-a-day”), complaining about his barely legible handwriting (“Could you maybe make the case files, I don’t know, not look like they were written by a child?”) and making almost as many felony arrests as him, which he absolutely cannot have.

Amy Santiago, who he has already spurned a stupidly competitive rivalry with in a worryingly short amount of time - and that’s the only reason why he thinks about her a lot when he should be doing paperwork. And while he’s out in the field. And when he’s lying in bed at night.

Amy Santiago, his new desk mate and new colleague and new pain-in-the-ass, who he absolutely definitely does not have a kinda sorta thing for.

God, he really has to stop using her full name. It’s definitely getting weird.

“Your phone number, weirdo.”

“Why do you – er, why?” She looks at him like he’s an idiot, which has become another frequent occurrence in a remarkably short space of time. Jake has an ominous feeling it’s going to happen a lot in the next few years they’re inevitably going to end up spending together, and he prickles with irritation at the thought of the overwhelming presence of Amy Santiago (seriously, he has a problem with the name thing) in the – in his - near future.

This is why he prefers his life of working alone as much as possible and drinking in silence with Rosa - It’s almost the end of the day and he’d probably already be on his way to Shaw’s right now if he wasn’t constantly being told off by this tiny high maintenance Latina detective that just sort of...never stops.

“For the case, remember?" "Right. Yeah, of course. The case." He says slowly, firmly pushing down the slight pang of disappointment he gets once his brain finally kicks into gear and realises she only wants his number for work. Obviously.

"McGinley set us both on that double homicide and you’re not getting all the credit like last time. We should be working together, that’s why we’re partners.”

“I got all the credit because I did all the work, Santiago.” He bites back, half joking - but she just folds her arms even tighter, raising an eyebrow, and the second he sees the fire in her eyes he knows he’s made a mistake.

Three of the perps they’ve had the pleasure of interrogating together have confessed pretty soon after getting that look. He’s pretty sure one of them even cried.

(God help him if he ever actually tries to ask her out.) (Which is never going to happen, because this is all just a stupid crush.)

“I was the one who got all the witness statements and did all the paperwork - all you did catch the guy, and you showed up ten minutes late to the bust with Starbucks!” She says hotly, and he’s almost ready to argue with her for the fifth time this week, a thousand retorts and jokes already in the forefront of his mind that he just knows will make her do that adorable thing where she gets really angry and her face scrunches up and she won’t stop furiously pointing for some reason.

But it’s Friday, and he’s tired, and he’s just closed almost all of his cases and finished up most of the paperwork (no, he hasn’t been making more of an effort to make it neater to impress her), and for some reason he really doesn’t want to argue with Amy Santiago today. Not because he likes her, obviously, but because she’ll probably win and he doesn’t want to ruin his good mood. So he relents, just this once.

“Okay, okay! I’m...sorry.” “You – wait, you’re what?” “I’ll... give you my number.”

“Oh. I mean, yes. Good. Thank you.” She says, clearly surprised at the apology, still adorably flustered but with the fierceness of her heat fading.

He can tell, he just knows, that she had a thousand retorts to counter his that she’s now filing away for another day too, and for some reason that makes him smile. A few weeks of working together have proven they both have a talent for driving each other crazy, but they’re definitely equally matched, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like a bit of healthy competition. He’s been getting bored solving all the good cases around here by himself anyway.

“No problem.”

There’s this one second where they’re just half-smiling at each other awkwardly and she’s the only thing that even matters in the room and maybe even in the entire world and it’s, uh, nice, as seconds go. One of the better seconds he’s had, definitely.

“I...uh, I actually don’t know what my number is, but you can give me yours? If you want.” He breaks eye-contact once he realises he’s been staring for way too long and nervously rambles a bit, suddenly feeling intensely awkward, fumbling for his phone and looking like an idiot. The Peralta speciality.

She just nods, and he can tell she’s itching to roll her eyes at him and get critical again, but he’s glad she holds back. He pulls out his phone, presses ‘New Contact’, and hands it to her, trying not to watch as she types her number and name in carefully.

Their fingers touch for half a second when she hands it back - and he hates more than anything in the world that it makes him quietly feel like he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Okay, great. Thanks, Peralta.” She turns on her heel to walk away, but he clears his throat, because apparently he’s intent on building bridges today. Plus (not that he’d ever tell her) if she stopped talking to him like he’s a child and criticising his perfectly normal eating habits, he thinks they could actually be good friends.

“Uh, Santiago?” “Yeah?” “...I’ll text you. If I...figure anything out. About the case. We’ll work it together, I promise.”

“Okay.” She smiles at him, properly this time, which is a nice change - and it doesn’t exactly help the whole overwhelmingly irritating massive huge crush thing that he’s currently dealing with, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

After she’s gone, he stares long and hard at her contact name. ‘Amy Santiago’ - her full name, like she’s somehow worried he’ll forget, like it isn’t currently his favourite phrase in the English language. The capital letters, lack of a nickname and the horrifyingly distinct lack of any emojis make her name stand out a mile against everyone else’s on the list, and he considers changing it for a second until he slides his phone back into his pocket, adrenaline and butterflies and pure energy buzzing in his fingertips.

Sue him – he likes her. As much as he hates to admit it, they do work well together - and he’s pretty sure she’s either going to drive him completely insane or his stupid crush is only going to grow and grow until he does something either very brave or very very stupid. He smiles quietly as he closes up his last case of the week, brainstorming all the ways he can prank text her later.

He can't say he knows where they’re eventually going to end up, of course - but he’s pretty curious to find out.

[reddieaddict]

You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (Part 3/4)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This chapter is when we finally get to see Richie in all his hispanic glory! Haha I hope you all like how I characterized the Losers. I know it’s kinda different than how other people do, but I wanted to spice things up. Bill’s parents are nicer in my fic than in Canon, but I liked to imagine eventually they help and became nicer. Whatever though. I also added a lot more humor into this chapter. I fucking love doing dialogue and really hope you all find it funny. Enjoy. 

Pairings: Reddie with a slutty side of Stenbrough and some implied Benverly 

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

December 1994

It was Christmas in Derry, Maine, and just as it’s been since the conception of the club, all seven losers found themselves in the Denbrough’s household, preparing for their annual holiday dinner. Eddie, Mike, Ben, and Bev’s parents preferred to celebrate Christmas Eve as a family, which, coincidentally (and conveniently), allowed the Losers to spend actual Christmas Day with each other. Stan was Jewish as fuck, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted on the Christmas; and Richie’s parents didn’t care what he did any other day of the year, so why would Christmas be any different? For some of the Losers, this was rather poetic; since their friends were more of a family to them than anything their parents could hope or care to be.

  Despite having become accustomed to his parent’s active indifference, the holiday season was still an agonizingly difficult time for Richie. This was the time of year when the world seemingly would mock and torture him with imagery of happy families, as if to say “You see this? You will never have this!”  Of course, this wasn’t really the case, but it sure felt like it was to Richie.  Seeing all these families on TV, in advertisements, and even around town indulging in their pseudo-domestic bliss that came with the yuletide had Richie’s heart set ablaze with jealousy. “How can people be so happy? Why couldn’t he have that? Why did his parents have to be so awful?” These questions loomed over Richie, taunting him.

  Unable to make the pessimistic voices in his head dissipate, he figured if he spoke louder and didn’t stop, he could drown them out enough to make the season tolerable. Unfortunately this made him especially intolerable to everyone, except the Losers. Richie has always liked to crack inappropriate jokes and be the center of attention, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Anything and everything out of his trashmouth was either a crass joke or an obscenity, making his nickname even more fitting. The Losers weren’t thrilled about this, but, being aware of his situation, had developed more patience for him throughout the years. This didn’t mean that there weren’t times when Richie crossed thresholds and sent them into a fury.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Having Richie pestering him all day, had Eddie fed up. “I don’t care if there is a mistletoe under every fucking doorframe, I am not making out with you!”  

“Baby, don’t be such a prude! Es Navidad! Dame un besito! Andale mi nino lindo! Presioso!” Eddie hated PDA and refused to kiss Richie outside of the privacy of their rooms, but it was their first Christmas as a couple and Richie wanted to make it special. So, he decided to bring out the big guns: talking in Spanish. Whenever Richie spoke in his native language, Eddie would melt and Richie could get him to do almost anything. 

Eddie froze in place as fire spread across his cheeks, giving away just how effective his boyfriend’s tactic had been.  “Umm. . . uh. . . ahem! NO! Stop it! I know what you’re doing and that is not going to work this time! I have to get back into the kitchen to help Mrs.Denbrough with dinner! You’ve already distracted me long enough!”

“Bebe, no seas asi! Amorsito! Nene!” Richie cooed as he wrapped himself around Eddie’s shoulders. “Solo un besito chiquito! Aaaandaleeee!”

“Fuck off.” Eddie pushed him away and began to make his way back into the kitchen. “If you keep annoying me, I won’t kiss you for the rest of the week.”

“Hijo de tu puta madre!” Richie mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest, and a child-like pout settling on his rosy lips.

“I KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING MEANS, DUMBASS!” Eddie retorted as he disappeared behind the kitchen door.

“Oh shit. . .” This is when Richie knew he fucked up.

“So, what happened? Did you get Eddie to kiss you or what?” Stan smirked as he continued to set the table. All of the Losers had been setting up for dinner, while Richie was on his quest for affection.

  “Of course he didn’t! Why do you even bother asking, knowing how Eddie is?” Mike answered, beating Richie to the punch. 

“Because then he has to admit to us that he didn’t, making his failure humiliating as well as disappointing.” Stan looked directly into Richie’s eyes with a condescending self-satisfaction. 

“Wow! You’re evil. . . and I think it’s making fall in love with you all over again.” Bill placed a delicate kiss onto his boyfriend’s temple as he passed by him with a stack of plates in his hands. Through years of speech therapy his stutter had pretty much disappeared, except in the instances when he found himself inebriated. 

Richie was none too pleased with getting ambushed by the people who he was starting to regret calling his friends. “Honestly, I don’t get what you’re being so smug about, Staniel. My Eddie is a classy lady with decorum, which more than I can say for you. Don’t think any of us have forgotten about catching you bobbing for Bill’s apple last Halloween!” 

“CAN YOU NOT!?” Bev interjected, disgusted with the memory of Bill and Stan mid-blowjob being forced back into her mind. “How are any of SUPPOSED to forget about it if you keep bringing it up, Richie!?”

“Yeah, and my mom is in the next room, idiot!” Bill’s parents were aware and supportive of his son’s relationship, but that didn’t mean they were interested in knowing the details, especially such graphic ones. 

“Buscame y me vas a encontrar! That means come for me and you shall find me, Big Bill. I wouldn’t have to put you on blast like that, if you kept your bitch in check.” 

“RICHIE!” Ben was fed up with the conversation. He knew there was no real malice behind any of their words, but this was hardly appropriate banter for Christmas dinner with Bill parents. The Denbroughs knew the Losers had quite the potty mouths, but expected them to cut that shit out on Christmas. “Why don’t you help us finish setting up the table, instead of arguing? Dinner is ready and we need to have everything set up, before Eddie and Mrs.Denbrough bring in the serving dishes!”

“Yeah, I think that is a good idea. God knows the last thing I want to think about during dinner is blowjobs.” Mike was by no means a prude, but was not eager to picture his friends getting it on, either. 

“Agreed.” Bev stated as she finished placing the utensils on the table.

They finished setting up and took their seats just as Eddie entered the dinning room with the first platter.  He placed it in the open space at the center of the table and took his seat beside his boyfriend. “Hola, mi amor!” he said completely butchering the usually romantic Spanish language, with the thickest accent anyone had ever heard, but Richie didn’t care. The sentiment was sweet nonetheless and he thought it was adorable when Eddie tried to speak Spanish.

“Eddie-Bear! My Love! Why are you sitting there, when there is a perfectly comfortable seat here on daddy’s lap?” Richie knew just how to ruin a cute moment. 

“Can you behave!? Bill’s mom worked very hard on this dinner! Don’t be rude and wrangle your trashmouth!” Eddie looked up at Richie, who still comically dwarfed him even when seated.

“Whatever, bitch. Don’t be trippin’ balls, you know I got this shit.” He said with a straight face and not a hint of humor to his voice, knowing this would set Eddie off. God, how he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend!!

“Listen here, motherfuck-“

“Eddie!” just then, at the most incriminating moment, Bill’s parents walked into the room, each with a dish in their grasp. “I am so disappointed in you! You know we don’t allow foul language at the dinner table, especially on Christmas, young man!” 

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Denbrough. It won’t happen again.” Eddie avoided her eyes at all costs, as if to catch them he would cause him spontaneously combust. He reached under the table and gave Richie a hard pinch to the sensitive flesh of his thighs. A vengeance that was subtle, but very much effective. 

“OUCH! You dick!” Richie whisper yelled, only audible to Eddie, and Bev who sat beside him. She giggled.

  “You deserve that! You got poor little Eddie in trouble!” she teased.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some defenseless creature. I’m a man!” Eddie resented his height, and it infuriated him when anybody made him feel weak because of it. “And, yes, you did deserve that, trashmouth.” 

“Whatever you say, my little love-muffin. Ay que lindo mi bebe henanito!” Richie knew Eddie hated when he talked to him like a baby, which is exactly why he did it so often.

“Uuuuuuuugh!” Eddie was exhausted and just wanted to enjoy dinner. “Whatever.” The Losers exchanged amused looks. Eddie and Richie always knew how to put on a show, even if they didn’t mean to. Well, at least Eddie didn’t mean to.

  “Alright, everybody! Let’s dig in!” Mr. Denbrough said wanting to change topic. Bill’s parents adored having the Losers over for Christmas, even more so since Georgie’s death. It was a pleasant distraction from his absence, though nothing could ever fully make their pain go away. It was still nice to have a house full of children, even if said children weren’t really kids anymore. 

  As they all began to enjoy their dinner, the couples segregated into their own individual conversations. Mike, being the eligible bachelor that he is, dipped in from one conversation to another. Mike was so charming and intelligent, and always adapted so well to any crowd, so it was effortless for him to jump from one topic to another. Ben and him had a particularly strong bond and could find themselves lost in conversation for hours. It was probably due to their similar qualities and shared interests. One could say they were Richie and Bev’s counterpart; both platonic, both incredible close.

  The evening went on pleasantly, as it did every year. Eddie and Richie, surprisingly, bickered very little. Mostly because no one was paying them any attention, so there was no motivation for Richie to rile him up. Their conversation consisted mostly of cute inside jokes and sweet nothings. It would have been perfect, if not for Richie’s constant glances in Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough’s direction. As the boys spoke, Richie would face Eddie, but his eyes would dart towards the parents and linger just a bit too long. Then he’d catch himself, and snap his attention back to his boyfriend. Richie has always had a short attention span, but this was different. It seemed more like Richie COULDN’T get his eyes off the Denbroughs, rather than being incapable of paying attention to Eddie’s words.

Annoyed with Richie’s behavior, he turned to see what it was that he found so fascinating. What he found was a thing of fairytales. There were Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough, leaned into one another with her hands lovingly enveloped within his, as they engaged in their own conversation. The way he looked into her eyes was that of a man who could see the answers to the universe and find treasures untold within her emerald irises. An incandescent luminance seemed to radiate from them, and it was breathtaking in the most understated way possible.

   Eddie was touch by such a display of unconditional love, but couldn’t understand why Richie found it so hypnotizing. It’s not like it was the first time they had seen Bill’s parents being affectionate toward each other. What made this instance so special? Eddie turned back to face Richie, who seemed to realize he had caught on to what he was doing. “You okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Richie responded as he cleared his throat and sat up on his chair making him seem a whole foot taller.  Whatever it was that Richie found so engaging about the Denbroughs, it was clear to Eddie that Richie DID NOT want to talk about it. Knowing that asking him anything else about it would just aggravate him and ruin what has been a beautiful night, he relented. 

“Okay.” He reached out for Richie’s hand and began to caress his knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. Richie turned to face him again, relaxing into the gesture. Eddie looked into his ebony eyes (noting to himself how much they resembled onyx) with sincere adoration and gifted him with the warmest of smiles. “I love you.”

  A smile grew onto Richie’s face; accentuating the creases besides his eyes, a sign Eddie’s words had meant more to him in that moment than they usually would have. And that was saying a something. “I love you, too.”

“Oh my god, I am so stuffed! Eddie you guys did such an amazing job! It was DELICIOUS!” Ben plopped himself on the couch and patted his belly. After dinner everyone had helped out with the dishes, making the whole process much quicker, and they were now ready to enjoy their movie marathon in the living room. 

“Thank you, but it was honestly all Mrs. Denbrough. I just did whatever she ordered me to do.” Eddie said humbly, seating himself in his usual spot on the floor, next to Richie.

“Hmmm. . . and what is it I have to do to get you to do the same for me, Eds?” Richie draped his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him. 

“Don’t be fucking gross! I just ate!” Stan cried from his seat on Bill’s lap. “I swear I’m gonna go all exorcist and projectile vomit all over you, if you don’t cut the shit, Richie!” 

“Okay now you’re the one being gross.” Bev grimaced at Stan’s words. “I’d rather talk about the film selection, than talk on any bodily functions or fluids.” 

“I second that motion!” Mike said as he sprawled out a large selection of VHS’s on the table in the center of the living room. Everyone leaned in to inspect the titles. “What do you guys think about a Christmas movie?”

“Isn’t that a little cliché?” Bill chimed.

  “Well when else are you supposed to watch a Christmas movie?” Ben quipped. “It’s not like we would watch A Christmas Story in July. Well, I don’t know about you, Bill, but we wouldn’t.”

“Appropriate or not, I don’t feel like watching a Christmas movie!” Richie interjected. 

“What about a scary movie!?” Mike suggested excitedly, as he held up the new Nightmare on Elm Street movie. 

“Yes!!!” Bev and Richie cheered in unison, then smiled at each other, proud of just how much they think alike. 

“We can’t watch a scary movie! You know how easily Eddie gets scared, you guys!” Bill warned as he directed a concerned look at Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up! I‘m not scared, you twig-bitch!” Bill was taken back by Eddie’s unexpected outburst. There was a reason Richie and Eddie made such a perfect couple. Amongst many other things, they shared the same lighting wit and venomous tongue. “Don’t project your pussy boyfriend’s fears on to me!”

“I love you so fucking much!” Richie beamed with pride as he hugged Eddie with all his might. “I think it’s so fucking HOT when you get snarky like that! Mmh,” he whispered into Eddie ear, only to find himself chastised by the petite spitfire. 

“I resent that, Eddie. I am not scared; I just think horror movies are stupid! They are all so predictable and exactly the same.” Stan attempted to defend himself to no avail. Everyone already knew what Eddie said was true.

  “It’s okay to be afraid, Stan. It’s not that big of a deal.” Mike assured Stan, sympathetically. 

“I’M NOT SCARED! Put on the fucking movie, I don’t care!” Stan was determined to prove his so-called friends wrong! 

“Are you sure, babe?” Bill asked, his words laced with uncertainty.

  “YES, I’M SURE BILL! WHAT THE HELL!?” Stan was disappointed that his boyfriend, out of everyone, didn’t believe in him enough to watch a horror movie. “Just put on the fucking movie!” 

“Okay, people! You heard Curly Sue!” Richie chanted, earning a leer from his ringlet adorned friend and a giggle from Ben. “Let’s get this shit started!” 

Mike took the VHS out of it’s plastic case and inserted it into the player. Everyone made themselves comfortable, paring into their respective couples, ready to enjoy the horror flick. Before they could begin, though, Bill’s parents entered to say goodnight, both ready to head to bed. “Alright, kids! We’re gonna go to bed. It was nice having you over again this year. Have a good night.” Mr. Denbrough said with the typical paternal formality one would expect from a father.

“There are plenty of snacks in the pantry, if you kids get hungry. Feel free to scavenge through.” Mrs. Denbrough added. 

“WAIT, MRS. DENBROUGH!” Bev yelled, startling Bill’s parents with the sudden exclamation.

“What is it, Bev!?” Concern littered her petite face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Ha! Ha! It’s just that you’re both under the mistletoe.” She answered bashfully. 

“Oh, I guess we are, huh?” Mr. Denbrough smiled sweetly at his wife and she mirror his expression.

  “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” Everyone except Richie chanted. His stillness garnered the attention of his boyfriend, but Richie would never have noticed. He was lost; disconnect, but burdened. As the Denbroughs shared a kiss that could not be classified as anything other than a quick peck, Richie stared intensely and Eddie’s heart began to race. Eddie immediately recognized the expression that settled onto his face as the same one that he had on that terrifying September morning. It was unmistakable! It had been so long since he had seen it, but he could never confuse or forget it, even if he tried. It was burned into his memory like a scar.

“Richie. . . “ Eddie whispered warily, forgetting all about the other people in the room, who also seemed to be blissfully unaware of the situation between the two boys, having started to clap and cheer for the Denbroughs. 

“Hmm. Yeah, Eds?” This time around reaching Richie was much easier, as he snapped back into the present almost instantly. Again, just as last time, he immediately tried to overcompensate with smiles and kisses.  “What’s up, baby boy?” he asked nonchalantly as he leaned in for a kiss, which Eddie did not resist. 

“Uh. Nothing.” Eddie learned from his experience last time and decided now was NOT the time to interrogate his boyfriend about what just happened. He would leave it for another time when they could both be alone.  Richie just responded with another smile, only this time, the creases besides his eye did not make an appearance. 

“Hey you two! Are you ready to watch the movie or do we need to give you some privacy?” Mike asked from the recliner he had made himself comfortable on. Eddie took notice of the Denbrough’s absence, surmising they had probably gone to bed in the middle of their exchange, and now all eyes here on them.

  “Ha! Ha! Very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Press play, we’re ready.” 

“Okay, but no making out during the movie!” Mike taunted with a sing-song tone one would expect from a child. 

“Uh, when have we ever done that around you guys? Why don’t you say that to Stan and Bill!? They’re the ones that are always all over each other!” Eddie complained, in his tenor whine.

  “Don’t be a fucking hater, midge.” Stan retorted. 

  “You know, Staniel, I think I like you better with Bill’s dick in your mouth.” Eddie said glaring into Stan’s eyes, a smile spreading on to his lips. “At least then you’re quiet.”

“Oh fuck! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Ben cackled. “Damn, dude.” 

‘Okay! Okay! I’m pressing play now, everyone shut the fuck up!” Bev announced, taking the remote from Mike. She, too, had thought it was funny, but thought Stan had been humiliated enough for one day. 

Eddie found himself unable to pay attention through the duration of the movie, still concerned with Richie’s strange behavior. He instinctively wanted to be blunt and forward, but he knew better. If he just came out and asked what was wrong, Richie would just flip out on him again. No, he needed to be smart about this. He settled on dealing with this on their walk home, which wouldn’t be for few more hours. This gave him plenty of time to figure out how to approach the subject. He knew that no matter how much prep time he had, Richie would still end up upset somehow, but it didn’t matter. This was something that had to be addressed. He silently prayed to whatever deity would listen, to bless him with the same resilient determination when he was force to face off with a furious Ricardo Alonzo Tozier.

It was now a little passed midnight as Richie and Eddie trekked their way over to the latter’s house, their gloved hands laced together and swinging between them. It had been a quiet walk for the most part, but not uncomfortably so. Both of them found themselves content in the other’s presence, even if neither spoke a word. It was strange to see the couple so well known for their loud and heated arguments be so serene. As heartwarming as it all was, Eddie knew this was just the calm before the storm. Guilt began to overtake him and he decided to break through the stillness.

  “You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, like, about ANYTHING! I am here for you.” He said looking up at his raven-haired, statuesque boyfriend, forcing the calmest tone could possibly muster. 

“I know, baby-boy.” Richie responded avoiding eye contact, knowing where this conversation was going and wanting to evade it at all costs. 

  “So, um. . . what’s going on?” That was EXACTLY what Eddie had promised himself not to ask, and then he fucking went off and asked it anyway. He was so frustrated with himself. “Ahem. . . Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is cool. It was a nice night, right?” Richie asked sullenly. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then, let’s not ruin it. I know where you’re going with this and I appreciate it, babe, but I don’t want to get into it.” Eddie was surprised and slightly hurt by Richie’s bluntness.  

“I’m not trying to ruin anything.” Eddie’s eyes darted away from his boyfriend and glued themselves onto the pavement beneath them. “I am just concerned.”

“I know you are, and like I said I appreciate that, but nothing is wrong. If something WERE wrong, I would tell you, Eds.” Richie’s tone was becoming more pointed. “No you wouldn’t.” Eddie said under his breath, which came out as a small cloud due to the freezing temperature of the evening.

“What did you say?” Richie stopped in his tracks and pulled his hand away. “What did you say, Eddie?” 

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead say what you’re really thinking! You wanted to talk; well here’s your chance! Talk!” There was no going back now. 

“I-I-I . . . um. . . “ Eddie hesitated as he turned back to face Richie, “I said ‘No, you wouldn’t.’”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Eddie?” Richie inched himself closer.

“It’s just that you never talk to me. I mean you do, but only . . .like, only when you . . .”

“Only when I what? When I run to you after my dad kicks my ass? After my mom throws a bottle at my head and tells me to kill myself? Hmm?! Is that what you can’t seem to say?” Richie was not holding back any punches. “It’s funny how you say you want to talk, but here we are and you aren’t even able to finish that sentence!”

   “It’s not that I can’t say it! I just have to walk on eggshells for you. If I say the wrong thing you get mad at me!” Eddie was starting to regret having brought the whole thing up.

“Oh, so it’s me!?” Richie widened and narrowed his eyes, pointing towards himself.  “So I’m the bad guy!?” 

“Richie, stop it! That is not what I said! Why does there always have to be a villain!? It’s just you and me; two people who care about each other! I am just trying to help…” Eddie tried his hardest to pacify Richie, but it seemed to make no difference. 

“No, bullshit! I tell you everything is fine! I ask you to trust me and you keep fucking digging, Eddie! Why can’t you just let shit be? Why do you have to keep nagging and bitching!? What the fuck do you want from me? If I don’t want to talk about something, maybe its cause I can’t! Has that ever occurred to you?! No, because you don’t fucking care! No, you just want to martyrize yourself! You want to save me! I don’t need saving Eddie. Just let it fucking go! LET! IT! GO!” Richie was full on shouting now, emphasizing the last three words of his rant by shoving his boyfriend. 

Eddie’s amber orbs began to shimmer with tears, but he refused to divert he eyes from Richie’s. “Why . . . Why are you being so mean? I didn’t mean to . . . I- I -I  was just-Ugh!” He could find a way to finish a thought, so overwhelmed with hurt and frustration. 

“You know what?” Regret had begun to sink in. Hurting Eddie was something Richie never wanted to do, but yet here was his Eds, crying because of him. “I-I-I’m just going to go home.” He turned around to walk back in the direction of his house, but before he could take more than one step he felt a small hand latch onto his arm. 

“Wait! Stop!” Eddie began to wipe tear off his face with the hand that was not grasping on to Richie. “No! Don’t leave! Is this what its going be like every time things get difficult? Are you always going to walk away? What’s going to happen when things get to be too hard? When I get to be too annoying? Are you just going to leave me forever?” 

“Eddie, I just can’t right now.” Richie pulled away and continued towards him house in wide strides; he needed to get out of there before he made things worse.

Without a second thought, Eddie chased after him and wrapped his small arms around the taller boy’s midsection, “STOP! DON’T LEAVE! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I MADE YOU MAD; I DIDN’T MEAN TO. I’LL LET IT GO, I PROMISE! JUST- PLEASE DON’T LEAVE!” Eddies sobs tore into Richie’s heart. His body trembled as his tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his voice deteriorating with every word. “Please don’t be mad at me! Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you, Richie. I’ll let it go! . . . I’ll let it go.”

“Eddie. . .” Richie’s voice was tender and free of the malice that had poisoned it minutes ago. He turned to face Eddie, pulling him into his chest and rocking them side to side. “Shh. . . It’s okay, baby-boy. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you mad at me, I swear. I just wanted to help! I’m sorry.” Eddies sobs began to die down, but his face remained buried in Richie’s chest. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not mad, bebe. I promise I’m not mad.” Peppering kisses all over Eddie’s head, Richie tightened his embrace. “You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry, I just…It’s just hard sometimes.” 

Moving his arms from Richie’s midsection and wrapping them around his long pale neck, Eddie nestled his face into it’s nook. “I can understand that. I just want you to know that I care. I’m always going care and worry about you. I love you so much, Ricardo Alonzo Tozier! You never have to feel afraid or ashamed to tell me anything. I will always stand by you.”

  Richie pulled Eddie away from him and looked into his eyes tenderly. “I love you too Edward Kaspbrak, so fucking much! I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I will always stand by you, too!” Eddie’s lips spread into a smile, before leaning in to kiss the taller man.“Your nose is freezing! Let’s go home before you catch pneumonia.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re an idiot, but yeah. I’d really like that.” Just like that, it seemed everything reverted back to normal between them. 

“You know what I’d really like, Eddie Spaghetti?” Oh yeah, Richie had definitely gone back to his normal self. 

“Don’t even THINK we’re gonna have sexy-fun-time, tonight. I am so tired and you definitely need to shower before you get anywhere near my bed.” Eddie foreboded, as they continued their journey home with Richie’s arm draped over his shoulder.

  “Eds, have you learned nothing today? I ALWAYS get my way.” he smirked.

“No, you do not!” Eddie looked up at him with narrow eyes and furrowed brows.

“I got you to kiss me tonight out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t underneath a mistletoe but it still counts as PDA!” Just then, Richie leaned in and stole another kiss from his boyfriend.

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie argued.

“Oh fuck yeah it does! Accept defeat and let me ravage you, Juliet!” Before Eddie could attempt to squirm away, Richie wrapped his arms around his hips and lifted him above him. Tickling Eddie tummy with his nose, Richie began to spin them around, playfully.

Eddie grabbed on to his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize himself as he giggled wildly. “Okay! OKAY! OKAAY!!”

“Does that mean yes sexy-fun-time?!” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he gently returned Eddie onto the pavement.

“Hm, we’ll see,” was all Eddie said as he continued his walk home, leaving Richie behind him.

“Oh, Eds, mi amor! You and I both know what that means.”

Eddie giggled in the distance. 

  Taglist: @bitchardtozier @bloggingandstruggling @11stayradstaybad11 @breakmyreddieheart @reddieformeerkat @purejaeden @julietissue @greywatertozier

[area50dununiverse]

Jedward teenage years fic

Summary: I couldn’t do one whole fic because I wasn’t happy with anything I wrote so I made one fic out of a few little teenage Jedward moments. I also didn’t make it into jedcest because I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted???

Anyway: Happy/sad/funny. Hope you like it anon!!

••••••••••••

John laid back on his bed, tears streaming down his face and holding his stomach. He couldn’t breathe through the manic laughter and gasped for air, wiping at his wet cheeks. He tried to speak but all that came out was more breathless laughter.

Edward giggled, leaning over his twin and digging his fingers into his ribs. John squealed, his high pitched laugh disappearing as he gasped for air. “Tell me!” Edward demanded through his own laughter. “Or I’ll keep tickling you!” Edward grabbed on to John’s stomach to prove his point.

“Okay! Okay!” John cried in surrender. Edward sat on John’s bed watching John sit himself up, wiping his red face. Edward smirked. John knew he wasn’t going to let the subject drop. Edward could read John like a book and knew he wasn’t telling him something. He pestered him until John finally snapped “it’s a secret” and that’s when Edward had to use force. Tickling.

“Okay-” John puffed, still out of breath. He caught Edward’s eye and smiled and Edward thought he was going to combust with the suspense. “John!” “Okay! I’m getting there!” John laughed holding his hands up in a surrender. “Our 16th Birthday is next week.” John started, a big smile on his face. Edward nodded, trying to hurry John along.

“I know what we’re getting!” John whisper-shouted with a quick glance to the door, looking relieved at finally telling. Edward sat forward, his eyes wide. “Spill-” “It will ruin the surprise Ed!” Edward held his hands up, making grabby movements and John spat “A puppy!” Before Edward attacked.

Edward gasped, his eyes wide. “Really?” He breathed. John nodded with a wide smile. “How’d you know?” Edward could feel the excitement bubbling through his body. “I was asleep on the sofa and mum was on the phone taking about it. She left the room and I woke up and heard everything!” Edward giggled and pounced on his brother, pulling him into a tight hug which John returned. “I’m so happy!” Edward laughed, making John giggle.

A week later and Edward held the puppy to his chest, proud with himself for his acting skills. He pulled off the surprised look perfectly. It had been a tough week, pretending he didn’t know and he was glad it was finally over. John reached out and gently stroked the tiny animal with a smile. “We should be actors.” They shared a knowing smile and turned their attention back to their new pet.

•

Edward looked at the clock for the tenth time and sighed. He had been stuck in double maths for what seemed like forever. “Grimes?” Edward’s head flicked up from his doodles to find everyone watching him. “Do you know the answer?” Mr Bobbett asked, knowing full well that he didn’t. Edward inwardly groaned. “He misses his boyfriend.” Someone mumbled, making a few other people giggle. “Yeah, to busy writing love letters to his own brother!”

There was more laughter and Edward looked back down at the page he was using to draw the batman logo on and sighed. “Enough.” The teacher snapped at the class before walking away from Edward’s desk. Edward continued shading in the dark bits, his pencil pressed on the paper so hard, the lead broke. He rolled his eyes and checked the clock again.

“What’s their problem?” Edward fumed, pacing the floor back and fourth. John watched him from where he was sitting on Edward’s bed. “Why can’t they just..” Edward trailed off, trying to find something that will convey his anger. “-Die?” He settled on, making John laugh.

Edward sat on the bed next to John and huffed. “Wanna hear a joke about a ghost?” John asked with a smirk. “No.” Edward grumbled shooting John a dirty look. “That’s the spirit!” John smiled and Edward wanted to push him off the bed. “Spirit!” John repeated, breaking into full on laughter and as much as Edward didn’t want to, he laughed too. “Shut up John!” He laughed, actually pushing him off the bed. John landed on the floor with a thump, still laughing, his hands grabbing at Edward and pulling him down with him.

Edward screamed and playfully hit him, forgetting what he was even mad about. “Be nice!” John called from under Edward’s body, where he landed on top of him. Edward simply laughed and got off, letting John up. “You love me too much to hurt me.” John sat up and gave a cheeky smile. “I do.” Edward returned, ruffling John’s hair. “I do too.” John smiled, holding out his hand for Edward to help him up.

•

“Where’s Edward?” John asked, popping his head around into the classroom. The teacher swiped his eyes around the room “he left when the bell went.” He told John. John didn’t know who the teacher was, he didn’t have all his classes with Edward which annoyed him. John took a step back and frowned. Edward never failed to meet him at home time or break times. John left to go and search for Edward, with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He finally found him ten minuets later, after the school was completely abandoned, everyone else long gone. “Edward?” He called as he entered the last set of toilets he had to check. “John?” Edward’s face poked out of the stall, tearful and red. John rushed over, joining him in the cramped space.

“Why’re you here?” John mumbled, breaking the silence. “Hiding.” Edward said flatly. He looked down at his brother, sitting on top of the toilet lid, shoulders slumped. He realised Edward’s shirt was missing a few buttons and frowned. “What did they do?” Edward’s eyes flicked up and met John’s and John instinctively put his hand on Edward’s shoulder.

“Nothing too bad. Just pushed me around a bit.” Edward took a shaky breath, John instantly kneeling down in front of him, his arm stretched around the back of Edward’s neck. Edward leaned forward and put his head on John’s shoulder, his breath shaky. John could tell he was close to tears. Edward hated confrontation. “They’re jealous Ed.” John soothed. “Because you’re so much better than all of them put together.”

John’s knees were aching and he was slightly grossed out by kneeling in front of the school toilet, but all he could care about was Edward and the fact he was now crying on his shoulder. John rubbed along Edward’s back. He was angry and the worse thing about it was that he knew he couldn’t do anything about. John was hardly tough, he couldn’t fight them and Edward always begged him not to make a scene anyway.

“Let’s go home?” Edward’s voice was broken, small and John felt his heart sink. He got to his feet and opened the stall door before straightening Edward’s shirt out, trying to tidy him up a bit. Edward’s pale skin was blotchy and red, his eyes tired and sore from the tears. John quickly looked away and left the bathroom with Edward.

John protectively linked his arm with Edward’s as they walked home, glancing at him every few steps to make sure he was okay. They didn’t speak until they were home and in the safety of their bedroom. “Do you know how great you are?” John suddenly asked while Edward was idly flicking through his homework. Edward looked up from the page and frowned. “You’re kind, Edward, the kindest person I know-” John told him, getting it off his chest.

The whole way home John was silently fuming, his mind listing all the reasons Edward was picked on, all his qualities that made him a target. “You’re also smart, even though you deny it, you are.” “What’re you talking about John?” Edward put his book down and watched as John paced the floor between their beds. “You’re funny and you care about others, you’re always helping people and you’re good looking.”

Edward scoffed and shook his head. “Shut up, you have to say that, we look the same!” Edward smiled. John sat on Edward’s bed, wondering if Edward saw himself the way John saw him. “I mean it. That’s why they pick on you, you’re everything they’re not and you should be proud of that. Hold your head up high and never change.” Edward gave a sad smile and John could see he was almost crying again. “Thanks.” Edward leaned towards John, wrapping him into a hug. “Can you help me with my science homework? Edward asked, pulling away after a minute, his eyes glazed over. John nodded and took the book from him.

•

Edward smiled to himself as he watched John walk down the garden. He ducked down, trying to stay hidden as John neared the door, straining up to see out of the window. John had stopped to pet the dog, Edward could hear him talking while he made a fuss of their pet. “Come on..” Edward mumbled watching John throw a ball for the dog.

Edward stifled a giggle as John started for the door again. This was Edward’s best idea yet and he couldn’t wait. “Edward?” John called, a few steps away from the half closed door. Edward ducked again and put his hand over his mouth to silence the giggles. A tiny part of him reminded himself that’s he was sixteen and not six, but Edward giggled harder the thought of being so childish.

“There you ar-” John’s sentence was cut short as he walked into the kitchen and the bucket of iced water that Edward had expertly balanced on top of the door fell over him, soaking him through. John gasped, ice cubes scattered around his feet, his white t-shirt now see through and his face one of pure shock.

Edward held his stomach, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the kitchen counter. He closed his eyes and his laughter overtook him, he couldn’t breathe and Edward thought he was going to pass out. “Edward!” He opened his eyes to see John, shivering and wet, an ice cube stuck to his t-shirt, setting Edward off, laughing even harder.

John approached him, and Edward feared for his life until John broke into a grin, grabbing Edward and pulling him into a tight hug, getting him cold and wet. “Ew!” Edward cried through his laughter, leaning on John for support. “Your face!” He laughed “you’re so wet!”

John laughed with him, pulling back and stripping his wet shirt off. “Just you wait. Revenge.” He warned before walking away, leaving Edward in fits of giggles.

•

John hated family parties. He loved his family, of course, but one of the side effects of being Irish is having a massive family and after speaking to four people he didn’t even know, he had had enough. “Who’s that?” Edward asked from beside him. John followed his stare and frowned. “I think they’re cousins?” John seemed to recall chatting to one of them earlier but couldn’t remember the details.

“Second cousins maybe? Yeah second cousins.” He concluded. Edward had already turned his attention to the plate of food in front of him and wasn’t listening anyway. John huffed and folded his arms. “Why do we have to be here?” He whined “who’s birthday is it?”

“Christening.” Edward corrected, nodding towards the baby that their aunt Mary was holding, a small group of female relatives making a fuss over her. “Is there cake?” Edward nodded and John felt a little spike of hope run through him. There had better be a cake, he thought.

“Is there cake?” John asked as their mum approached a while later. “Yes John.” She sighed. John could feel Edward laughing from where they were pressed together in their shared armchair. John sighed again. “You could look a little happier!” John gave a fake, over the top smile to his mum, “Better?”

“Don’t be cheeky.” She smiled as she was ushered away by another unfamiliar face. “Who knew we had so many family members?” Edward said, stuffing another cocktail sausage into his mouth. John sighed again.

John stayed in the same chair with Edward all afternoon, watching people come and go. When the parents of the baby started doing speeches. John and Edward were forced to stand with everyone else while they listened. The baby was fast asleep in her buggy, behind the table and John didn’t really see the point.

The baby’s mum was thanking the god parents and John was impatient, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and bumping into the person to his left.

He gave him a polite smile and took a step to the right just in time to knock into his uncle Kenneth. Unfortunately for John, uncle Kenneth was carrying the beautifully, hand decorated cake, which was now on the floor in a mess.

Everyone stopped and looked, John heard a few gasps and he froze. His suit was splattered with icing, as were a few other people’s outfits and John could see the horror on their faces, his own mother was looking at the floor shaking her head and all John could do was apologise. It could have only been a few seconds but time seemed to slow down, John’s face was bright red, he could feel the heat radiating off of himself.

He started to bend down, trying to at least clean the mess up when Edward appeared out of nowhere, grabbing a handful of cake and throwing it at him. John felt the splatter, his eyes wide, mouth agape. What was happening? One of the younger cousins leaped forward, grabbing herself a handful before throwing it at her older brother.

John watched as a few more of the younger ones followed, the room erupting into chaos. Edward was laughing and John caught his eye as uncle Kenneth began to join in. “What did you do?” John asked, still in shock as he approached his twin. “Saved your arse.” Edward smiled, a bit of pink icing hitting his shoulder.

John watched as the baby’s mum smudged cake on her husband, both of them laughing, eyes full of joy as the baby slept, safely out of the way of flying cake. “This is the best christening I’ve ever been to!” Someone shouted and John was so confused, like he’d entered another world. Something wet hit his face and he turned back to Edward, his hand full of cake and a mischievous grin on his face.

John was quicker, grabbing and throwing cake right at Edward, hitting him in the face as they both laughed. “Well, you wanted cake!” Edward laughed as a bit hit John on the shoulder.

Edward shot John a bright smile which John easily returned. They loved each other and they both knew that no matter what happens, for the rest of their lives, they will always have each other.