#Like gah ain’t the expression so cute

[afterhours-witheli]

-> Halloween 👻 Night! Eli’s POV

A/N: Possibly the shortest one

Established Relationship: Eilas x Rei

Characters featured/mentioned: Jeremy Walsh, Liane Felton, Cole Lensherr, Astrid Lensherr-Walsh, & Mia M. Parker

——

—x—x—

Growing up in NYC during October, it tends to be pretty chilly.

So it wasn’t no aesthetic cute Halloween, it’s always better to be warm than sorry on that night. Plus the often odd things that happen during the night, like parties getting crashed, people getting robbed or arrested, and parents making sure to not go out too late to head out for everyone safely.

In response, Eilas tends to observe and avoid the thing in general. He was never a big fan of the hype surrounding the so called Halloween. He was never into it, especially Horror movies, but when it came to chilling and pleasing his boyfriend, Rei, he did.

He snuck into Avengers Towers, well at least tried to, as Jarvis made his presence known to everyone. He roll his eyes at the Tower AI, making sure to take his time heading towards Rei’s room.

He removed his hat and jacket, walking past Jeremy who was getting his stuff ready holding up a kettle hat.

“Hey Eil. Stayin’ here tonight?” Asked the blonde smiling.

Eilas nodded smiling, “Yeah, Halloween ain’t really my thing. So I decided to chill.”

“You sound like my husband.”

“Why? Something happened?”

“To put it simply, he’s not the whole Halloween thing either and thinks it’s stupid to even go out, this year.”

Eilas listening fixing his glasses and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Ah, I see. Well I guess I understand what you mean”

Jeremy shrugged, “I just want do it for fun tonight! Is that so much to ask?”

“…no, no it’s not. But I think, if Cole is acting like me towards the holiday, where he doesn’t care for it…he’ll see that you just wanna hang out.”

“Is Rei that way with you?”

That made Eil smiled as he nodded at Jeremy’s question. He knew that him and Rei were vastly different people when it came to certain interests, there were things that he wanted to do that his boyfriend might not too easily pleased to join in, but he humors him.

Takes the time as a way to hang out with him instead. And he knew that Eil would do the same thing for him. It’s a two way street as far as they know.

Jeremy smiled in return figuring from the smile on the young man’s face, that it was that way. In a moment of calm silence, it gave the blonde some hope that things will turn out well for him tonight and his family. After a few minutes of talking, the two parted ways, as Jeremy headed to the living room and Eilas made his way to Rei’s bedroom.

He knocked the door, getting no answer at first and the sound of shuffling around from the inside. He rolled his eyes and waited for another moment, that’s when he heard a snarky voice.

“Whoever it is I don’t want to go trick or treating! It’s lame!” Yelled the voice, that clearly belonged to Rei, “…besides I rather just buy the candy anyway..”

Eilas snorted and knocked against the door again. “Rei, it’s me, Eil! Open up! I came offering snacks and drinks.”

Two seconds later, the door swung open as Rei appeared glancing around both sides of the hallway before looking at his boyfriend.

“Were you followed?” He asked, an amused expression on his face.

“Seriously?” He replied with a hint of sass in his tone.

“Never know.”

“You letting me in or…?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Rei grabbed him gently by the arm and pulled himself the room, taking the bag of snacks from his hands. He couldn’t help but smile at the bag of chips and chocolate chip cookies that he brought.

“Gah I love you.” Rei said softly.

Eilas chuckled, “You talking to me or the cookies?”

Rei had already stuffed two cookies in his mouth before looking up with a mouthful.

“Both.” He replied with a smile, before nuzzling his face into Eilas jokingly, “But you’re my favorite.”

“I can’t with you!” Eil added snorting.

“Shut up you love me.”

“Maybe, I do.”

“Maybe?!”

Eilas laugh and squirm at bit at Rei giving a kiss on the cheek with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies. It was rare for many to see Rei’s oddball or silly yet kinda gross side, but it was always a treat to watch him cut loose.

“..for real, I missed you.” Eil said softly after a moment.

Rei nods softly, “..yeah, I missed you too.”

Eilas snatched a cookie out of his hand, earning a soft pout from Rei as he took a bite out of the cookie.

“You’ll pay for that.” Rei responded chewing on his own cookie.

“No I won’t.” He chuckled munching his own chocolate chip cookie.

BONUS:

The two were snuggled up together on the bed watching a bunch of movies from Rei’s desktop, across the room, that was perfectly situated for an angle to look comfortably towards.

They decided to watch Hotel Transylvania.

Everything was going well when they heard sounds from outside the room.

Faintly, well more like clearly, the voices of Liane, Jeremy and Mia. Along with Cole and Astrid.

“Bella’s been arrested.”

“What?!”

“Oh my..” 

Eilas looked at Rei, glancing up at him from the crook of his neck.

He whispered, “Should we…?”

Rei’s eyes darted to his door listening into the conversation before looking down at him.

“Nah…” He whispered in return.

———-

Hope you like it! 👻🎃✨

Tags: @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @meiramel @aidanxsophxoxo @askstevella @ask-starrk @the-x-ladiesofnyc @therealdaydreamstark @marvelsfavoriteuncle @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @sci-fi-lexcon @elzabeth-stark @wizzzardofoz @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre

Halloween Night - Trick or Treat? Liane's POV

Liane X Ethan @ethan-lensherr

Features: Liane Felton, Ethan Lensherr, Belladonna, Eleanor Lane (Bella's GF) and Mia Parker @ask-missparker

Location: Avengers Tower, Halloween in NYC

Liane was busy touching up her lipstick in the mirror of her vanity, smiling at her reflection as Ethan walked up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Looking good, Mistress of Evil," He smiled as Liane looked up at him. "I think we look amazing, but these horns are not comfortable at all." She sighed, adjusting her headpiece. Ethan grinned, hooking on his feathered cloak.

"I suit this look, the all black, the cloak, the hair? Who knew dressing as Maleficent and Diaval would be so fun?" He replied as Liane smiled. "I am sad Bella didn't want to be Aurora though.." she trailed off as Ethan snorted.

"Babe. She was never going to agree to it! And this way she gets to match with her girlfriend, so she's happy." Ethan states, rubbing Liane's shoulders soothingly. "All we have to do is make sure she doesn't terrorise any kids, she doesn't pull her idea of tricks on neighbours and doesn't set anyone's house on fire. Right?"

Liane groaned. This was Belladonna's first Halloween with her new girlfriend and every time before she'd been uninterested in Trick or Treating. But since it was Eleanor's favourite pastime on Halloween, Bella couldn't say no to her. And in Liane's experience, Bella had a habit of taking things very literally.

"Right. Just don't let her take any real knives out with her. Fury would not be happy, ditto Hill." Liane reminded as Ethan shuddered. "I still remember the April Fools incident...but relax. Maybe having Nora there will mellow her out. Just a smidge. Have hope Lia, okay?" Ethan smiles, kissing her on her pale, contoured cheek. Liane smiles back, her fake fangs gleaming. "Alright. And if all goes well, maybe we can treat ourselves tonight..." she muttered softly, stroking his cheek gently as a naughty grin crossed her lips. "Of course, my Queen."

They were interrupted by JARVIS who popped up over their alert system. "Miss Felton, a young lady wishing to see Belladonna is at the door. Shall I let her in?" He asks as Liane gets up, dusting herself down. "Yes JARVIS, thank you." She replies, heading to the door to greet Eleanor, dressed in a long blonde wig, a washed out blue dress and white pointed boots with little fingerless gloves and a purse that looks like a white rabbit, smiling.

"Hey Miss Felton! Wow, you look amazing! Love the teeth and horns, is Bella ready?" She asks, stepping inside. "She's just in her room, come on I'll show you. So you're the Tim Burton version I assume?" She asks, gesturing to the outfit as Nora beams, lifting her skirt and doing the silly dance with her feet from the film. "Alice Kingsleigh, Bells did mention having a crush on the actress when she saw the movie." She replied, following after her to Belladonna's door, knocking on it carefully.

"One minute!" Came the reply as Nora smiled. "I'm guessing Mr Lensherr is Diaval then?" She asked as Liane nodded. "Yup, feathers and all. But don't ask him to do the accent, he gets embarrassed. And he does not sound Irish." She chuckled as the door opened and Belladonna stepped out, dressed in a darker blue dress with a white pinafore, patterned with symbols, wearing black and white hooped tights, tall black buttoned boots, her bangs styled to the sides and covered in fake blood carrying an ornate knife as Nora squealed in delight.

"Alice Liddell! You look so beautiful! And the blue suits you." She smiled as Bella smirked. "Any costume that lets me wear fake blood and play a mental patient is worth it in my books." She replied, admiring Nora's costume. "The detail is impeccable, you even lined the inside of the skirt with stripes like in the film costume. I knew you'd suit this look well." Bella stated as Nora grinned. Liane smiled, admiring her terrifying daughter's look.

"Very you. So this one is from a video game?" She asked, pointing out the knife and blood. "American McGee's Alice: Madness Returns. A story where Alice is a mental patient discharged from the hospital into the care of an orphanage and has to make it through Wonderland alive in order to face her trauma learn about her twisted past. I played it last year at Nora's when our study sessions became more like...hang outs." Bella finished. Nora grinned. "I always hated horror games but when I wanted to find excuses for Bella to hang out, I bought it for her after she'd told me all about how she wished Wonderland was more twisted and psychedelic."

Liane sighed happily. "Okay that was adorable. Now Bella you know the rules, right? And please tell me that knifes fake." She said as Belladonna handed over the knife. "I assume you found a plastic, vacuum molded alternative?" She replied as Liane handed her a replica knife, painted to look bloody. "You're lucky I know you so well. And I think it's actually acrylic? Some guy with a 3D printer makes those kinds of props for cosplayers." Liane explained as Bella handled the prop.

"Almost as good as the real thing. And you need not worry. I understand the concept of Trick or Treating now. But I am disappointed by the fact tricks are now frowned upon." Bella stated as Ethan walked up. "Bella your idea of a trick is not the same as anyone else's. Trust me, we are doing everyone a favor." He replied before kissing her cheek smiling. "You both look great. But yes the rules are, don't stay out past 10pm, if it gets to 10 and you aren't home either stay at Nora's or bring her here, whichever is closest, do not terrify the little children and do not threaten anybody. Please?" Liane pleaded as Belladonna rolled her eyes, sighing. "You take all the fun out of the best holiday of the year. But fine. For you." She replied as Liane's shoulders relaxed.

"Good. And have fun! We love you and be safe." Liane finished, squeezing Bella's shoulder kindly as the two headed out into the night as Mia walked up from behind, her eyes narrowed. "You two are sure this is fine?" She says, raising an eyebrow. Ethan laughs but nervously. "Sure! What could go wrong?"

A few hours later...

"Shall we retire to the bedchamber, my Queen?" Ethan smiles, holding out his hand to Liane's as she chuckles. "I thought you'd never ask..." she replies, her eyes gleaming as her cell starts to ring from an unknown number. Frowning, she picks up. "Hello?" She says and her face drops as she answers to the voice and what she hears. "She did what? I- no no Officer that won't be necessary, I am on my way right now, just hang on." She hangs up and looks at Ethan and everyone else who looks dumbfounded. "Lia what's happened?" Mia asks slowly as Liane rushes to grab a coat. "Bella's been arrested."

Stay tuned for Belladonna's POV where you find out just how our melancholy girlie got into this mess! Hope you enjoyed 🎃🍁 oh and moots feel free to add your own POV of this Avengers Tower Halloween

Tags: @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @meiramel @aidanxsophxoxo @askstevella @ask-starrk @the-x-ladiesofnyc @therealdaydreamstark @marvelsfavoriteuncle @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @sci-fi-lexcon @elzabeth-stark @wizzzardofoz @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

What if all three Yuus (from the novel, manga, and game) were sent to the same world?

Part 5

(Link to previous)

Ito had been gone for five minutes.

One of the sofas had collapsed so they had decided to drag it out into another room to scrap later, and by the time they had come back, Kuroki had apparently decided to adopt the tiny monster that had tried to kill them not even a few hours prior.

Kinda makes them worry about what Enma was doing, it had been a while since they’d last seen him, but they’re not going to think about that right now.

Ito sighed. “Okay, why is Grim here?”

“Cleaning,” said Kuroki. Grim held up his feather duster as if agreeing.

“That is not –.” They shook their head with a deep sigh. “That monster literally tried to kill us. Over clothes.”

“How is this the thing you’re normal about?” complained Kuroki.

“I need at least six days before I forgive people for attempted murder,” Ito deadpanned.

The moment they turned their exhausted gaze on Grim, who had been, wisely, quiet this entire time, the monster’s eyes welled with tears. “Don’t be mean, human! Ain’t you going to ask what I’m doin’ here? That’s what you people do, right? Talk about feelings and stuff? It wouldn’t kill you to listen to me!”

Ito took a step back in surprise. How was the monster making them feel bad about being wary of someone that had attacked them?! How was that fair?! It actually might kill them to listen to him!

Grim must have taken their stunned silence as a cue to go on, because he pressed a hand to the white fur of his chest:

“I was born to be the greatest mage who ever lived! So I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ for that black carriage to come for me…” The cat-like slant of his eyes lowered in apparent sadness. “For so long… but that Dark Mirror has no eye for talent! Was it really wrong of me to take initiative and come here myself?”

“Oh, Grim, that’s…” said Kuroki, frowning.

“Yeah…” Ito agreed quietly.

Only for them to whip around to glare at Kuroki as a realization hit them: “Hold on, you didn’t know either? Why’d you let him in, then?!”

“I don’t know! He’s cute!” Kuroki tried to defend himself. Emphasis on the word tried.

But Ito just shook their head and allowed it. The monster didn’t seem all that intent on hurting them now that they weren’t in the way of him getting into his coveted school, so they weren’t in danger.

Besides, the flames from his ears made for steady light in a place with light fixtures so dim and muted by grime they may as well have been off.

Speaking of his ears, Grim jumped when a drop of water hit him in the head. “Gah! Can’t either of you magic away these leaks? These flaming ears are my trademark, y’know! Can’t have ‘em getting doused!”

“Forgetting something?” Kuroki said, rolling his eyes.

Grim’s forlorn expression quickly contorted into a smirk. “Ah, that’s right! You can’t use magic! You guys are kinda useless, aren’t you?”

“Well, why don’t you fix them, then?”

“I don’t work for free. Now, if you had a couple of tuna cans, then we could talk.”

Ito doubted that he knew how to do anything but spew fire, but they figured arguing the point wasn’t worth it. The leaky roof wasn’t going to deal with itself and, if Grim wasn’t going to help, then it was up to them.

They set some buckets and spare pots under the leaks in the ceiling. Maybe they could even use the rainwater to mop if they managed to get enough of it, since the chances of the water being okay in a place like this were close to zero. Gotta love efficient thinking.

Except, strangely enough, one of the pots tipped over the moment they turned their back to it, shattering on the floor and spilling shards and water over the floor.

Ito frowned. They hadn’t thought that it had been on an unsteady floorboard.

Kuroki glanced up at the sound and his eyes blew wide at whatever he saw over Ito’s shoulder.

Uh oh. Please don’t be the monster going beserk again.

…

… okay, well, good news! It wasn’t Grim!

That was pretty much the only good thing that was going on right then, though.

Because staring right back at them was a shimmering, silver ghost with pale blue eyes. The top hat atop its head might have made things less scary if said head wasn’t currently tucked under their arm like a football.

An ungodly screeching sound left their lips and it took a hand grabbing them by the back of their shirt to get them moving. Kuroki dragged Ito close. Probably as a shield, to be honest.

“Heehee!” The ghost giggled, two fingers coming to rest over his mouth as if trying to hide its amusement. “Oh dear! It seems I’ve made a mess! What a shame!”

Okay…  so, maybe it was just a Peeves-like figure? Meant to be annoying and nothing more?

“Welcome to our castle! Stay a while!” The pupils in his eyes disappeared. “Stay forever!”

Nopenopenopenope.

Ito grabbed a nearby candlestand and brandished it like a weapon. Hopefully the ghost couldn’t tell they had no idea how to use it.

The ghost giggled again, jamming his head back onto his body until the only hint that it wasn’t attached was a thin line of blue light.

Grim launched themselves at Kuroki for help. He caught the ball of fur on instinct, only to regret it as sharp claws dug into his skin through the fabric of his ceremonial robes. He hissed quietly and backed up in surprise, tumbling towards the ground.

But the two of them were caught, shockingly.

Kuroki opened an eye cautiously when they didn’t hit the ground and found that the person that had caught them wasn’t a person at all.

Another ghost, this one tall and thin, stretched over them and peered into their faces.

And then, to Ito’s surprise, Kuroki twisted in the ghost’s grip and swung on him.

Even stranger, the ghost doubled over as Kuroki’s fist made contact with his stomach, a pained wheeze leaving it as it floated back a few ‘feet’ to get away from his assaulter.

Grim dropped to the ground and curled up in a tight ball, paws over his head. Kuroki took a few stumbling steps back, more than willing to help put some distance between himself and the ghost.

“How rude!” The thin ghost said, voice still a little breathy from the punch. “We were only greetin’ our guests. It’s been so long since we’ve had visitors.”

The ghosts were circling their group, though they were careful to stay just out of reach after the first punch (hopefully it would stay that way). Kuroki and Ito backed into each other and did their best to adapt to the fact that they were definitely being cornered. Kuroki swept a leg out, hooking the toe of his shoe around Grim and sliding him into their ‘protective’ circle.

“Yes, yes! Make yourselves at home!”

“We’re just itchin’ for new friends!” The tall ghost stretched even taller, looming over them. “Why don’t you join us, hm?”

Ito tried to smack him upside the head with their candlestick holder for getting too close, but it phased straight through him. Damn it. 

Grim whimpered a little.

Both humans looked to the tiny ball of fur curled between their feet. Quick as a flash, Ito chucked the candlestick holder at the nearest ghost – it didn’t manage to spear them like they intended, sadly, it just phased right through it again, but it did shock him into backing up a few steps – and then pushed Grim out of the circle.

“Do the fire thing.”

“I’m not your –!”

“Grim, there are ghosts, this isn’t the time to be cross!” Kuroki hissed.

Grim let out a yelp of surprise at the normally quiet person’s outburst, licks of flame spilling from his mouth.

The monster, somehow, despite the close proximity, managed to miss. It was almost impressive. Maybe it would have managed to actually be impressive if flames weren’t currently chasing the trails of dust still on the floor, webbing along in an intricate pattern that made moving their legs risky.

The headless ghost put his hands on his hips, carefully picking its way through the flames to get closer. “Now, now, no need for violence. We just want some new ghost friends to play with!”

“Oh, so when you want to be violent it’s cool but when we want to suddenly it’s wrong,” Kuroki sassed the ghost. A bold move, considering they were still in danger and Grim was apparently not going to be of help, but Ito kind of respected it for its idiocy.

Ito sighed and nudged Grim again. “Master sorcerer! Do something!”

Unfortunately, even stroking his already massive ego did little to help Grim’s aim. The next shot he made breezed past the nearest ghost before continuing on its merry way. Flames lapped at the curtains on a nearby window.

“When they said ‘do something’ I don’t think they meant ‘set the dorm ablaze’!” Kuroki groaned.

Grim puffed up, though it was unclear whether this was in indignation or because he was preparing another fireball. “Quiet! I don’t need lip from you, human!”

Kuroki sighed. “Fine! Fine! Beat them and I’ve got a can of tuna with your name on it!”

The tall ghost reached long, clawed fingers for them.

“Two!” Kuroki corrected himself quickly. “Two cans of tuna!”

“You’re right,” said Grim, who seemed to be steeling himself. “I’m The Great Grim! I’m not afraid of any dumb ghosts!”

He shot another fireball and this one, while still missing pretty badly, came closer than the others had. The ghost backed up in apparent surprise.

But Ito had been watching closely this time, and they quickly realized the problem:

“Are you actually trying to do this with your eyes closed?”

“Shut up! Just… tell me where to shoot and I’ll do it!” Grim yelled.

Ito clenched their fists in irritation but Kuroki was apparently far more adaptable than they were, because he said, “Fine! On your left!”

And, like that, they became Pokemon trainers. Ito couldn’t say that this was how they expected the night to go, but it was still not as weird as having a hand reach through your mirror to drag you to another world, so they were hardly as phased as they should have been.

The ghosts were forced to back away to avoid getting murdered (? Can ghosts die a second time?).

Just when their group of living beings was finally getting the upper hand, another ghost phased through the ceiling, the upper half of their slightly portly body poking through. He smiled at his friends as they tried their hardest to avoid getting burnt to a crisp.

“If you’re done messing with these two, the person up here is way more fun.”

The ghosts didn’t think twice, floating straight up to get away from them.

Kuroki breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders finally relaxing. He looked around at the, frankly, ruined kitchen. “Man, all of these fires are going to be so annoying to put out –.”

Ito barely heard him. They were too busy grabbing Grim by his collar and racing towards the nearest staircase.

“Enma!”

~~~

(Link to next)

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Btw did I mention the fact that mermaids willingly offer to drink their blood only to their beloved? In mythology it’s the way of them showing that this person is the one for them and they want to be with them forever.

So.. so remember the moment of Rin’s canon dream about Haru being a mermaid that goes like this:

Haruka: I want to give you something…Drink my blood.

Rin: Umm??????

Haruka: I don’t have time to explain. Just do it.

Rin: What the hell are you saying? Your blood? What does that have anything to do with…!

Haruka approaches Rin and bares his neck.

Haruka: Just do it and you’ll see.

Haruka’s blue eyes shine with no worries. Rin hesitates. They look at each other through the bars.

Rin: God damnit!

Rin braces himself and bites Haruka’s neck.

Haruka: Gah…!

For a moment, Haruka’s expression is strained while Rin drinks his blood.

😭😭😭 YEAAAH THAT’S.. THATS NOT EVEN SUBTLE.

And I was thinking about Rin retelling it to Haru like it ain’t no biggie but I’m just sure that Haru must know about this fact, bc he’s obsessed with anything water related with his books and love for sea creatures, so I wonder why his reaction was so calm, like he already back then came to terms with it and was like “oh well” 😂. Bc he said his “and how did you even come up with such idiotic dream?” with such cute slightly embarrassed voice, it’s hilarious.

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Adam!!

oh my HEART CHARACTER? MY BOY? yes <3

heads up: i went off

first impression

holy shit!!! actual prologue scene!!!! look at him being a bastard!! this is very cool i love this.

classic beast. look at him being all beasty. does he have a name? nope. no name. weird! anyway look at him! a beast!

oh now he’s a man! i ain’t never seen that man before in my life!!!!

i literally did not know who dan stevens was so i was genuinely like WHO is this man. but i thought it was amazing and i had no qualms with the design of the beast! i thought it was awesome and i was endeared by him. NOT TO MENTION?? EVERMORE?? gosh i Loved that they gave him his own song. it’s what he deserved. i was just so happy with how much more depth they gave him. belle too! which i forgot to talk about in her post! but anyway i just loved how much more human he was, even as a beast. there was so much more to his past and who he was and who he is and i was so compelled by him. and i thought his slow transition from grumbly beast to kind man in disguise was so very good. it just felt so natural.

impression now

all of that, but intensified sjdksj. he’s my heart character. i want to know everything about him, and i DO know everything about him! his tragedy and his growth and his struggles and his pain and his melted heart. the way he’s a damsel in distress. the way he’s been trapped in that tower for so long even before he was cursed. i just think he’s so wonderful and sad and his heart is so big!! he loves so deeply. he FEELS so deeply. all of his emotions are buried but so intense. he hates strongly and he loves intensely and when he’s sad it practically causes a storm. it’s hard for him to express his feelings but his heart is just so colorful and beautiful and he’s learning. he has capacity to change and he wants to break out of who he was. and it’s just such an amazing thing to see and grapple with!

favorite moment

gah!!!!! i think there are two that always get me. this one in the gif above is so cute too. BUT! when he laughs in the snowball fight scene. i think i gain 5 years of life every time i watch it. at this point i will live forever. it’s just like!!!!!!!!! that’s the first time he’s genuinely laughed!!!! in!!!! YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like when’s the last time he experienced pure joy like that? just fun, light joy! it warms my heart to NO end.

(oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!!)

next one is his tiny lil smile when belle is feeling his human face for the first time. like it just… i mean that whole scene… hfhfhgkglghfhjf…. but GOODNESS.

i…. uhhhhhhhh……. the love in his eyes… he’s just…. they’re just…… oh man lydia.exe has stopped working.

idea for a story

hmmm!! i feel like i have explored a lot of his life. but, sometimes i think about him facing his past in a very tangible way. like going to his father’s old study that he kept locked after he died. or even his mother’s bedroom that also remained abandoned since her passing. and maybe belle is with him or maybe he goes by himself. but i think a big part of his healing and growth is taking hold of his shadows. or at least, casting some light on them! so something in that realm.

unpopular opinion

he deserves a name. name him literally whatever you want, but just calling him “the prince” or still BEAST after the curse is lifted is just disrespectful. he was born a human, and he lived as a human to young adulthood before anything happened, and guess what….. he had a name :0

also he deserved the curse to be broken, actually! i’m sorry you got attached to him in his beast form, that’s probably because he’s in that form for majority of the film and your tiny brain got used to it, but he was, ONCE AGAIN, BORN A HUMAN. AND HE’S…. HUMAN. this beast form is a punishment. it’s a consequence of his actions that the enchantress found worthy of punishment. he’s imprisoned in this bodily form. no matter how used to it he gets, no matter how long the curse has made it feel like it’s been, no matter how comfortable belle makes him feel in his own skin, that’s still not how he wants to spend the rest of his life. when belle admits her love for him, the curse is broken. he fulfilled what the enchantress challenged him to do, he kept up his end of the bargain, even though it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen. so, no, belle isn’t “getting rewarded” for loving him, and, no, he wasn’t “better” as a beast. you’re seeing his true self come out, and he happens to be cursed when that happened. this is how he is now, and it only comes out in fuller form as time goes on. i don’t know why there’s such discourse about this, when it’s the literal premise of the story, but here we are.

also i know this isn’t what everyone thinks! but i’ve just seen too many posts about this, so i thought i’d make my stance on my boy crystal clear :)

favorite relationship

okay enough of that intense talk!!!!!! look at him being in love with his beloved!!!! his best friend!!! his future wife!!!!!!!! aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

favorite headcanon

he’s a night owl! he always has been! a lot of it stems from his nightmares, he stays up to avoid sleeping and experiencing them. they diminish as time goes on and he has belle beside him in bed, but he’s still a night owl because it’s calm and he can collect his thoughts :) he also is very intense and particular about… like, everything. fashion and food and just. existence. he’s pretentious as hell, your honor! his favorite animal is horses. he’s not a nerd about them or anything, he just knows them well, they’re familiar. growing up he was a really shy and timid and scrawny kid, which i think is a lot of the reason his father abused him — he found him disappointing. i guess “abusive father” is a headcanon too since that’s not explicit but gosh isn’t it? anyway. to end on a high note, his mother was always so gentle and sweet with him, always holding his hand and kissing his head. and when he’s older and a father himself, he’s a lot like this. he’s a very gentle papa, and he loves his children with that same gentleness. his kiddos are never afraid of him — they run to him when they’re afraid :”)

—

belle post | maurice post

[crazymangaluv]

Bakagou!

@hellomgann1296 my beautiful muse along with the talented fanfic authors I read helped to inspire me to write my 1st Bakugou fic. I’m not much of a writer so I’m sorry for any mistakes and any ooc-ness of the character. 

Warning: (slightly lemony: cursing, slight nudity, some steaminess). This is a Bakugou x female reader: I sincerely apologize to those who are left out when using female pronouns. 

Description: You and Katsuki are childhood friends and you have fallen for this hothead. Unfortunately, you overhear him say something hurtful and you did the first thing that came into mind: run. Not a smart idea in hindsight but run you did. Buuuut of course you run blindly during a thunderstorm (accident waiting to happen) and have a loose canon chasing after you aka Bakagou. Will your relationship mend? 

You attempt to focus on the sound of water falling heavily onto the ground as you took deep breaths in and out. You shiver and clutch yourself tighter. Your ankle is throbbing but you try to ignore it. The sound of the rain and the burning fire provides some comfort to your misery--

“Tch!” 

Your eyebrow twitches at the sound. You turn your attention back to the source. He’s sitting there in his boxers, arms crossed and a scowl adorning his handsome face. You disregard his naked state, your face contorting into a similar scowl as well. You try to find your inner zen -cute puppy…..no wait...a handful of cute puppies-. It was beginning to work but-- 

“Achoo!” you sniffle. 

“Tch…”

There goes your patience. “Would you knock it off Bakagou??”

His scowl deepens to a snarl at your remark and the emphasis on the former portion of his name. “Eh?? Knock it off? It’s your fault we’re in this mess in the first place!”

You scoff in disbelief. “My fault?? I didn't ask you to come after me, Mr. I’m-so-cool- with-my-bad-attitude!” 

He glances at your swollen, bruised ankle and your drenched clothes before reverting his glaring eyes to yours. You meet his eyes with a glare of your own, however, your vision begins to blur from the tears forming. He opens his mouth to retort but you continue: “I was trying to get away from you! You’re just a big fucking jerk! You don’t care about anyone other than yourself and you treat everyone like shit!” 

Your tears flow freely down your cheeks. You don’t bother hiding them from him, even if it makes you look weak. His scowl reduces to a frown, eyebrows furrowing. He feels a pang in his chest; he hates it when you cry. His face bears an expression of shame but something else you couldn’t pinpoint. 

You’ve been his friend since childhood, you would even say you’re one of his best friends. He does treat you differently than the rest: more mellow and less explosive, no verbal berating, etc. You couldn’t help but develop deeper feelings for him over the years. The two of you are older now and you have noticed an increase of intimate moments between you both when alone. The subtle soft touches, the caresses, the long hugs, the way his hardened eyes would soften with you, the movie night cuddles, falling asleep in each other’s arms...gestures where you felt that there was a possibility of reciprocated feelings. Guess it was all in your head, nothing but misinterpretation from a desperate fool. You feel like such an idiot. 

[Flashback]

You’re on your way to see him, smiling to yourself as you carry his share of the spicy dish you cooked. He seemed stressed the previous day so you wanted to cheer him up. He always looked forward to your dishes. You could hear their voices around the corner, and you smile to yourself, it seems that they were up to the usual shenanigans based on the volume of their voices. It appears they were teasing him about something, you shake your head at their antics. 

“Yeah Ochako is super cute! Haha why are you blushing Midoriya??”  

“N-n-n-nothing!!”

“What about y/n??” 

“Yeah! Y/n is pretty cute, you think she’s got a boyfriend?” 

“Oh yeah y/n sure is a looker. She’s pretty badass too.” 

“Wait she’s got Bakugou here.” *laughs* 

“Yeaah you two are awfully close...are you guys….ya know….,” *whispers* “doing it??”

Katsuki growls, “Shut up!”

“NO! THEY’RE NOOOOT! WHY WOULD Y/N WANT STUPID BAKUGOU ANYWAYS??!” Mineta cries out pathetically. 

You roll your eyes at the sound of his stupid whining voice. You shake your head and sighed. You’re ready with your retort and to kick Mineta’s ass just as you turned the corner.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! STOP BEING ALL GAH GAH OVER HER! Y/N AIN’T SHIT!” Katstuki shouts as he shoves Mineta aside. 

His gift slips from your hands onto the ground. It feels as though you’re punched in the gut. You stand frozen like a deer in headlights. He’s never said anything like that to you or about you before in all the years you’ve known him. The boys flinch at his booming voice before flinching again at your presence. They look at you in awkward silence equally as surprised. He turns at the sound, his eyes meeting yours and widening in shock. Thunder rolls in the background...tears form in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, your lips quiver. You turn and just run. You ran as fast as you could with no set destination in mind. You hear him shout your name but you didn’t care. You needed to get away from everyone, you’re so embarrassed and ashamed. 

It begins to pour, the water drenches you as you keep moving. Lightning flashes above you with the loud boom of thunder. The rain makes the floor increasingly slippery causing you to lose your footing. You careen down, curling into a ball as you tumble down a steep slope. You land with a *crash* and a *thump*. You turn over onto your back and let out a sob. You’re such an idiot...you angrily wipe your cheek. You have no idea where you are and it’s getting dark. You move to stand but fall over from the sharp pain at your ankle. Oh just great, a sprained ankle to make things even better.

He immediately had run after you following his brief state of shock. He loses you momentarily but he hears the crash in the distance. He quickened his pace in desperation and anger. “Y/n!”

You hear your name and you look up to see him gracefully sliding down the slope towards you. No no no no, not you. You stand and limp away ignoring the pain but he easily catches up to you. His hand gently and firmly wraps around your arm but you rip it out of his grip. The movement aggravates your ankle further causing you to yelp out in pain as you lose your balance. He reaches for you, swiftly catching and pulling you close. You squirm in his arms. 

“Quit squirming y/n!” 

You refuse to look at him,“No. Let go of me.”

He scowls and instead picks you up. “Your fucking ankle is shit and you know for damn sure you can’t walk right now.”

You cross your arms and huff in annoyance. No word is said between the two of you as he treks the terrain. The rain only falls harder with frequent flashes of lightning and rumbling of thunder. You’re both drenched and you tremble from the cold. His grip tightens, he needs to get you out of the rain fast. Your teeth are chattering; he tch’s to himself and quickens his pace. The sky grows darker, making it more difficult to see where he’s going. The flash of lightning provides him the light he needed, illuminating a cave ahead. He sets you down gently before stalking off to get supplies for a fire. He’s gone for no more than 2 minutes. He drops the branches and wood and starts a fire. You welcome the heat but refuse to move.  

“Your clothes need to dry. Take them off y/n, you’re going to get sick.” 

You ignore him and opt to hug yourself in all your wetness. You hear the squelching of tossed wet clothes and your face flushes. 

[Present]

Your trembling worsens, not just from the coldness of your still wet attire, but from your outburst as well. You look away and bury your face into your arms. You let out a quiet sob you couldn’t hold in. You’re cold, wet, in pain, angry, tired, embarrassed, ashamed, etc. All these feelings and emotions storming inside you. You didn’t hear him approach you but instead feel his warm arms pulling you close. Before you could pull away, his solemn voice stops you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sit there in shock, he’s never said sorry before...in all the years you’ve known him not one sorry. 

He hugs you tighter, his head rests on your shoulder. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t mean what I said. Please y/n...forgive me.” 

You sniffle. “You’re a jerk,” you voice out weakly. It didn’t hold the angry bite you wanted, but you couldn’t stay angry, you were just hurt. 

“I am a jerk…I’m sorry.” 

You sneeze again causing him to slightly flinch. He tchs once more and immediately picks you up and plops down by the fire. “You’re going to get sick y/n…”

You don’t respond. 

*Sigh* “...y/n please…”

You sigh in response. You move to shuffle away and his arms release you. The places where he was touching you are now cold. You miss his touch but you shake your head and take in a deep breath before removing your clothing. Katsuki turns away, refraining from turning around. You neatly place your drenched clothes on the rocks beside you. You shiver, it's still a tad chilly but the fire is helping. You glance over to him, the flickering glow of the fire dancing on his muscular back. He’s close enough to touch but you stop yourself by gripping your hands together. Your eyes travel up to the back of his head, his dripping blond hair glistening softly. You follow a droplet that falls from a strand of hair and slowly rolls down his spine. As if he felt your gaze, he turns his head slightly to peer at you from the corner of his eye. 

You twiddle your thumbs nervously at the silence. You furrow your brow and clear your throat. “Why did you say it if you didn’t mean it?”  

He looks away from you. “Because...because I’m an idiot.” His eyes return to yours. 

You frown. “Yeah you are an idiot.”

He doesn’t flinch. “I am an idiot...I just...I didn’t want them to know…” he trails off, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. 

You look at him expectantly, eyes narrowing. 

He puts his arm down and turns fully to face you, sighing. His eyes return to yours. “I didn’t want them to know how crazy I am for you. And--” he pauses. “I got...jealous. I didn’t want them looking at you the way I do.” 

You look at him quizzically, heart pounding in your chest. His eyes are burning with an intensity you haven't quite seen before. 

You blush but hold firm. “That still doesn’t make it okay to react like that. To be so quick to bring me down. It was still hurtful to hear...even if you weren’t talking directly to me.” 

His eyebrows furrow and he reaches a hand out to you. His rough hand lightly covers yours. “I know. I’m sorry y/n. I am, truly. I’m a stupid immature jerk. It won’t happen again....You’re not...you’re not something to possess, but someone to cherish...to love.”

You hear and feel the sincerity in his words. You look down at his hand, registering the words he just said...You can’t get your hopes up, interpreting a moment for more than what it was. You gather your courage to ask the one question you’ve wanted the answer to for years:

“Do you...love me?”

His breath hitches and he freezes. He’s not used to expressing his feelings, the ones that leave him vulnerable. He uses a wall of anger to prevent anyone from seeing him weak. Opening his heart to someone, he hasn’t, not even to his own parents. But you...you make him want to. You’ve gradually chiseled down those walls of his. He yearns to just hold you in his arms and never let you go. Loving you isn’t a weakness. He has realized over the years, his love for you has made him stronger. It was what fanned the flames within him, motivating him to be the best. Seeing these other men around you, ones who weren’t so rough around the edges, it made him feel jealous. You deserved better than him, one who’s not as explosively hot headed. It wasn’t right for him to try to possess you, to keep you to himself and chase others away from you.

He removes his hand from yours. You swallow painfully, the lump of your throat aching more so than your ankle. You close your eyes and steel yourself, preparing for the incoming rejection. But instead he inches closer to you, you can feel the heat radiating from his body yet you remain still. He tentatively raises his hand to your face to gently wipe a stray tear that fell from your cheek unbeknownst to you and rests his hand on the side of your face, thumb caressing your cheek in a comforting manner. 

“I love you y/n. With every fiber of my being, even if you don’t feel the same way.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, letting out the breath you’ve been holding. The tears flow down your cheeks and his warm thumbs wipe them away tenderly. He gently pulls you closer and kisses your forehead. You suck in a breath at the intimate action. You feel his lips on your right cheek, then your left...by the corner of your lips, on the right side, then the left side. It lingers there a bit, your lips tremble. Then, you can feel his lips, ever so softly, brush against yours. 

Your rapid thumping of your heart is ringing in your ears. You move your lips against his, unsure at first but soon with more confidence. His lips move against yours in a sense of desperation. His hands drop to your waist to pull you down with him. You’re pulled flush against him as he holds you on top of him. You gasp and blush further at how his half naked body feels against yours. He places his hand behind your head and tenderly brings you down to which you allow with no resistance. His lips envelop yours with gentle aggression you didn’t think was possible. The kiss is quickly deepened. His rough hands roam over your body, without venturing too far, and you let out a moan. 

He rolls you over beneath him without breaking the kiss and with a hand supporting your head. He’s nestled between your legs as the two of you kiss fervently. It's your turn to let your hands wander. Your hands gliding over his smooth skin, your fingers studying his hard muscles in detail. He detaches his lips from yours to suck and nip at your neck down to just above your breasts. You moan and wrap your legs around his hips to pull him further against you, paying no heed to the twinge of pain from your ankle. He moans into your neck from the contact and slightly grinds against you. You pull him back up to your lips and his tongue slides into your mouth, teasing yours. You grip his back tightly, moaning as you feel yourself growing hotter. His hand slips up your torso, fingertips brushing over your breast. You lean into his touch which causes his hand to grasp your breast. You gasp into his mouth and moan out his name. He withdraws his hand from your breast and pulls away from you. Leaning on his forearms, he hovers over you whilst panting and eyes burning with desire. 

“Katsuki?”

He leans down to kiss you, lips lingering before pulling away. His hand brushes the strands of hair from your face and he caresses your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. 

“As much as I want you y/n...and believe me, y/n, I want to ravish you, to kiss, suck, touch every inch of your body...I can’t...not here, not like this.”

You blink up at him in realization. Cheeks reddening at his words, suddenly feeling shy. 

“I want you, sprawled on my bed.” He growls out. 

Your face flushes at the thought.

“I want to wake up to you in my arms...I want you there beside me, as my partner. I want to take you out on a real date, hand in hand, treat you the way you deserve.” 

Your lips quiver. 

“You’re the only woman I want, if you’ll have me.” 

You nod, speechless. You relish in the tender kiss he gives you before he sits up and pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, enjoying the intimacy as you both sit there basking in the warmth of crackling fire and listen to the soothing sound of the pitter pattering of the rain. 

[Later]

Friends remain dumbfounded as they stumble upon the both of you emerging from the forest. He struts through, carrying you in his arms as he makes his way to the infirmary. Your friends follow, teeming with questions. 

“Oh my gosh, are you okay y/n?”

“Y/n! Kaachan! Are you guys are okay?”

“Y/n, what happened? Did you guys make up?”

“What did you do to her Bakugou?”

“Y/n! Thank goodness you’re okay! Bakugou! You apologized huh? You’re truly embracing the manly spirit!”

“We were worried sick! We were about to go looking for you guys!” 

“You can’t just run off like that during a storm!! That was irresponsible of you both!” 

You smile awkwardly and apologetically. You’re attempting to answer the swarm of questions and apologize, but find no room to interject. Katsuki’s scowls, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

“Piss off! Get the fuck outta our way extras!” 

They scramble out of the way, momentarily ceasing their questioning. He holds you tightly as he kicks the door shut on their curious faces. They deemed it wiser to leave the two of you alone, opting to pester the two of you later. He places a chaste kiss your cheek before placing you down on one of the beds. He walks away tch-ing at the lack of staff. “Oy! My girlfriend is injured here! Move your asses!”

You smile and shake your head. You love this hothead. 

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Seducing Suga - Part 2

⮱ Summary: You were happy to find out that Yoongi likes your rap skills, and your original plan involved him, but then the unexpected happened.

Back to 🌼 PART 1 🌼 ⇖

⮱ Words: 2k

⮱ Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader, t i n y Jungkook x reader

⮱ Genre: Smut, Angst

⮱ Warnings: Cheating, graphic depictions of sex, swearing

                                _______________________

“I’m just moving forward, no matter what happens behind me,

Even with the tears running down my cheeks I, I, I am a survivor.” You finish recording the demo as the girl group looks at you with curious wide eyes. You weren’t just singing, you were crying. The leader of your girl group, Nadi, made sure to give you a tight squeeze before patting you on the back and sending you out. It was official, you were the biggest loser of an artist the company had produced.

You’ve been crying a lot lately, and everyone knows it’s because of your idol boyfriend. Because of certain obligations, you had to come clean about your relationship to Yoongi, so that your company could take measures to help you come up with a cover story. You weren’t in a good place with him at the moment, since you hadn’t texted each other in a little over a month and you expected him to text you first.

Your company had declared you their new solo artist and you just had to work on a collaboration with BTS. This one wouldn’t feature a rapper though, you were to record vocals with Jungkook and they wanted you both there to get a sense of your sounds together. Old fashioned producers prefer it that way. 

You know you’ll have to meet Yoongi, Namjoon, or Hoseok but most likely Yoongi since he was on the list of producers for the song. You already released your first album and you were planning on dropping two singles. The first one would be the finished version of “Survivor,” the song which you just recorded a demo for, and the second one will be the song you’re working on with Jungkook.

“There you are! The girls told me you were crying? Come on honey, look over the lyrics for your new song. Jungkook himself wrote it after sitting down for five minutes. This boy has a knack for writing about feelings.” Confused, you take the sheet of lyrics from her hand and you see them handwritten in cursive english. You could tell the song was meant to be sung in Korean but for whatever reason, Jungkook decided to translate them to English.

“If there’s a love that must be true,

That would be the love I have for you.

No matter what may pull us apart,

In the end you have my heart.

P.S I hope this collab makes you feel better, I know you’ve been hurting just as bad as my brother has been.” You sigh at the note, smiling and feeling my spirits lifted higher after reading Jungkook’s neat handwriting. You thought it was sweet that he still believed in old pen and paper as his main form of communication. Obviously, he has a phone and he could’ve texted you, but he opted for the letter.

You open up your phone and send him a picture of the paper. A few minutes later he replies back, and you talk more about the collab. Then you stop talking after he tells you he has to practice. It has been a while since you sat down and talked about your life with anyone. Normally you stay away from talking about work when it comes to Yoongi, but it’s so natural with Jungkook.

You decide to sit down and start writing. “Dear Jungkook,” You start.

Your POV

The day for our first collaborative project has arrived. After sending each other letters back and forth for the past month or so, me and Jungkook were joined at the hip. So much so that Jimin pulled me aside to tell me off about my closeness with Jungkook and how it was like I was forgetting about Yoongi.

“How is it any of your business, Jimin? Me and Jungkook are friends. If Yoongi thinks there’s something more, that’s his problem. Did you know that I was heartbroken after he decided not to text me after telling me he needed a break? We haven’t even talked to each other since then. Things aren’t the same between us. I didn’t realize how much I had in common with Jungkook until after that happened. So in a way, I’m glad that me and Yoongi are no more,” As soon as I say those words, Yoongi steps out of the shadows. “Gah! Where did you come from?”

“I was having my coffee in the other room. I heard about what you said. It sounds like you and Jungkook really hit it off. I’m happy for you, really,” He sets down his mug on a coaster nearby. “So that’s why I wanted to tell you that we should break up.” I feel a pang of sadness inside but it’s nothing compared to the immense longing in my heart I have for Jungkook. The positive feelings took over the negative ones, and for the environment and mood in the studio to be good, I needed to concentrate on that.

“Okay. I agree with you. Shall we start?” I ask him as an artist would to a producer, and he nods, sitting down with a blank look on his face. This time, it really does look blank. I can’t read him as well as I used to, I suppose.

Me and Jungkook ended up spending four hours together, and after a lot of time holed up in the studio, we were a lot closer than before. Enough for him to kiss me during our 30 minute break. I returned the kiss gingerly, savoring the taste of his strawberry lip balm. This boy smells and tastes good.

“Will you please go on a date with me?” He asks after recovering from the long-winded kiss.

“Yes.” I smile in response, happy to jump back into recording with Jungkook. We even filmed a Bangtan Bomb, and it was so obvious that there was a spark between us. But the closer I got to Jungkook, the more gloomier Yoongi got. 

“And it’s time for Yoongi to hop in the booth with you. It’s the rap verse.”  I check the paper quickly, noticing that Jungkook hadn’t written a prior note about Yoongi.

“There’s a rap verse?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, I added it after hearing you guys together. It didn’t sound like enough…” He dissed my singing skills right in front of me! We sit through two grueling hours of that before we’re dismissed for the day.

I grab Yoongi’s collar and I drag him towards the janitor’s closet. “How romantic. Isn’t it sweet that we have candles already here to set the mood?” I raise an eyebrow, pinning him against the wall.

“Shut up. I just wanted to be happy and I was starting to really like Jungkook. Why do you always have to ruin everything?” Seeing his blank expression soften, my heart started to race. What’s wrong with me now?

“Your lips say one thing, but your eyes say another,” He shushes me as he suddenly has me pinned to the wall, reversing our predicament so that I was in his trap again. “Maybe we should see what your body says.” Before he puts a hand on me, I stop him.

“Yoongi…” He stops midway, making sure he has my full consent before proceeding. “...Kiss me.”

We start off slow, with kisses so fiery they could melt my heart into a puddle. Yet my heart was encased again, as my body was telling me to act on impulse. The lust takes over each of us, pushing us into the wall-literally, as Yoongi’s tongue slipped into my mouth and I parted my lips so that he didn’t have to force his way in. Our tongues danced together as our lips collided in a sad, forbidden way, and we pulled apart for air after the anticipation had died down.

“You didn’t think we were stopping just there, did you?” I feel his hand circle my thigh and I warm heat shoots up my core. 

“I don’t know. Depends on what you want.” He lets his hands linger for a bit, groping me in ways that should make me feel dirty but instead I feel excited. The thrill of the moment makes me feel good.

We kiss again as he pulls off his shirt and I lose my own, our bodies filled with lust for only each other again. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time.

“Shit, I’m hard. You feel that? You make me so hard, princess.” I roll my eyes at the cliche line.

“Don’t call me “princess.” I ain’t royalty. Call me by my name, kitty cat.” I allude to his nicknames from the fanbase, mostly cat-based since he resembles a cat with how tired he is whenever a camera is in his face. Little do they know that behind the scenes, Yoongi is a hard worker and that is why he is tired all the time. He barely had time for me when I was his girlfriend.

“Don’t call me kitty cat. It’s bad enough I gotta deal with crazies on a daily basis who baby me and call me lil meow meow.” I suck in a deep breath when he drops to his knees, his fingers hooking on the sides of my panties before he pulls them down. I shudder at the feeling of the cool air hitting my sensitive region at first, and I practically melt when Yoongi puts his lips on me.

I groan and buck my hips as he savors my juices, making me climax with just his lips and tongue. He smirks, burying his head further between my legs as I smother him with my clit, stroking his smooth tufts of grey locks as he kisses me to my orgasm.

“Yoongi, Oh it feels too good. Fuck yes.” I moan as he drives me over the edge, slapping my clit with his fingers before lapping up my juices. 

“That felt good, didn’t it sweetheart?” I nod, unable to speak as the aftershocks of my orgasm leave me unable to stand straight for a minute. He helps me up, lifting me to my feet since my legs forgot how to function from the crazy orgasm that Yoongi administered. “Well you’re in for a treat. Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work. Now, sit back and relax.” I nod as he makes me sit with my legs wide open in a chair and he strips down completely so that I have a great view of his giant dick and cute butt. “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?” He asks as I gulp, feeling thirsty as he lowers his cock into me slowly.

“That hurts.” I groan, earning an apology from him before he turned me around and unclasped my bra so that I was fully naked as well.

“Shit, such a nice ass.” He spanks me as I bounce on his dick, moving involuntarily since he was the one slamming into me in the first place. I feel his warm hands on my ass, taking in the pleasurable feeling of his cock sliding into me with ease, as he was hard and dripping. I realize somewhere in the middle of riding his dick that we forgot to use protection.

“Yoongi, are you cumming yet?” He shakes his head, his pale cheeks flushed red as sweat drips down his forehead and our bodies cling together from the extra sweat. He looks a bit more exhausted than usual, but that’s probably because he was tasked with fucking my brains out for over an hour now.

“Shit, I’m close now. Y/N, hold me.” 

“But I-” He kisses my neck, holding my hips in place as I attempt to bounce off his lap, and before I can say anything his hot white semen has painted my inner walls. Cream drips down my inner thighs, leaking onto his stomach as I pop off his dick with an evident look of fear on my face.

“That was amazing, babe. I haven’t cum like that since—”

“I’m not on birth control, Yoongi,” And with those words he freezes, his look of pleasure replaced with fear. ��That’s not all. I just cheated on Jungkook. Oh my god.” I feel my heart beating out of my chest, blood rushing to my head all at once before I pass out.

[grimoire-of-seven]

I have a crush on you

PROMPT :: “I have a crush on you..”

Rating: SFW

Words: 350-450 per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC/Gender-Neutral Reader

Note: Thank you for the request! Although you didn’t specify which character, I took it upon myself to write for all of the demon brothers! It’s a little long so please continue reading under the cut!

LUCIFER

You stood your ground before him, eyes determined to express all these pent up emotions into words. When you arrived at the student council office, Lucifer was busy with several of the student council papers but insisted that he is listening to you.

“Lucifer,” You called out to the black-haired demon infront of you, hands clutching your Devildom Law book for courage, “I have a crush on you.”

“Hmm, yes,” He nodded his head almost automatically, his focus towards the papers unwavering, “You can put your term paper draft on my desk. I shall attend to that shortly after I finish this–”

“I said, ‘I have a crush on you’, Lucifer.” You repeated with a louder and much more resolute voice.

With that, his hands stopped mid-way through putting down one of the stacks. He directed his attention towards you, there was no semblance of an expression in his visage aside from its usual stoicism.

After that one second of shock, Lucifer then smiled at you with… was that pity or sadness in his– “…take that away.”

You gasped his statement, appalled that he dares to tell you how to deal with your feelings. You finally gathered the courage to tell him and he’s telling you to ‘take it away’?!

Within an instant, you made your way to his table and slammed your hand at his desk, “Now, listen here, you little shi–”

Wha-?!

He pulled your necktie with enough force that had you reeling towards him, the tips of your noses barely missing a millimeter.

“I’m just teasing.” He chuckled in delight, those piercing dark eyes staring at yours with such intensity that made your knees weak like jelly. “Time and time again, you amaze me with your honesty.”

Goosebumps trailed your arms as Lucifer’s hand caressed your cheek delicately. If he comes any closer, you’re most certain that he’ll hear the embarrassingly fast beating of your heart. “I like that.”

 MAMMON

“Plus four!” Mammon exclaimed in glee, slamming the card in the low coffee table. Before reaching to the deck for four more cards, the white-haired demon stopped you in your tracks and placed yet another identical card, “Another plus four! I change the cards to blue!”

“You can’t stack plus four cards! UNO tweeted that before–”

“We’re using local rules here, dummy, get with the program!” He smugly replied, smirking at you as you reach for eight cards. “Taste my reverse card!”

“Yikes,” You sighed at his beaming energy of mischief, placing a blue card down, “You sure play dirty…”

“I get to ask ya one truth or a dare if I win!” Mammon nodded eagerly at your words as if it’s a compliment to him. He removed another blue card from his deck and exclaimed, “UNO!”

“Greedy… you’re too greedy for victory.” You changed the colour of the cards to yellow in high hopes that his last card isn’t the same.

Please don’t be yellow–

“Got’cha!” Damn.

“Truth or dare?” He asked excitedly with the energy of a toddler on a sugar-high.

He would definitely ask something very private and embarrassing if you chose truth, given that he’s animatedly eager to get you to lose this round. With that in mind, you chose the lesser evil, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell the truth!”

This stupid idiot… You sighed and nodded, “Fine. But give me the cards, I’ll shuffle it this time.”

“Who are you interested among the seven of us brothers?”

Ah, so that’s what this is. You chuckled, his earlier demeanor making much more sense with his ‘dare’. “No wonder you’re pumped up when I said we should higher the stakes.”

“Ya didn’t wanna bet money!”

“It’s an UNO game, man.”

“So, who is it?” He asked, leaning back to his sofa with crossed-arms as he waited for you to hand him his set of cards, “Maybe if you slide in some cash, I can help you get–”

“He’s quite cute.” You began, taking a card as a starter and waiting for Mammon to put down his first.

“Oh? So that counts out Asmo since he’d beautiful!”

“He makes me laugh a lot.” You smiled, “Reverse card, reverse card, plus four, change colour to yellow.”

“GAH! I don’t have any yellow!!!” Mammon twisted from his seat at the realization of his misfortune, seeing that you only have three cards remaining in your hand. “That can’t be Levi or Lucifer or Satan! Those guys would choke if they’re asked to share a joke. So, it’s either Beel or Belphie, huh!”

You shook your head at his words, placing down another card, “I have a crush on you, Mammon.”

“Wh–” He looked up at you with wide-eyes, “No! Q-Quit playin’ dirty! I ain’t fallin’ for that.”

“Reverse card, UNO,” You stared back at him, eyes never leaving his as you placed your last cards, “I win.”

LEVIATHAN

What does Ruri-chan have that you don’t?

Dejectedly wiping the said figurine with a damp towel, you asked that question to yourself.

You were summoned at Levi’s room earlier that day for some ‘important friend training’ to be facilitated by the purple-haired demon himself… only to find out that he’s cleaning his figures and needed a few more hands on deck.

Why does he like Ruri-chan so much? She’s a fictional character, for god’s sake!

“Hey, Levi,” You started, looking up from your task, “If I say I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

The man in question stared at you for a moment before erupting into a boisterous laughter. “LMFAO,” he spelled in glee, hands waving off your statement as if it’s a mere jest, “That’s the funniest joke I have ever heard from you in a long while lolol.”

“Take this seriously, Levi!” You wrung the damp towel in annoyance and weaponized it against your companion, hitting him by the leg with enough force to have him yelp in pain.

“OW, TF you doing? That hurts!” He rubbed his leg in attempt to stave off the stinging feeling, only to realize your reaction to his answer, “Wait, that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like-?!”

“WTF!? That’s a horrible decision!” Levi exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes scanning your expression for some sort of… mischief in your eyes or a slightly wolfish grin.

But all he saw was that you were genuinely serious - about him and your feelings for him.  

“Why?” He breathed out the question, his head thinking of the times when you must’ve raised his intimacy close enough for you to drop that confession bomb on him, “Compared to Lucifer and Asmo, I’m not even the most handsome or popular character in this–”

“We’re not in a game.”

Levi went silent at your words.

Have you done it? Is this finally friendship over?

Panic began rising up your chest as he sat still, unmoving from his position. Before you can speak, he looked at you with a hopeful spark in his expression, “Then… does that mean I can like the main character, too?”

SATAN

Satan had offered to walk home with you together after hearing that Solomon is graciously tutoring you for certain RAD subjects – those that doesn’t exist in the human world. The blonde demon insisted that he doesn’t mind waiting for you given that there are still some things he has to do for the student council.

‘It sounds like an after-school date’, Solomon grinned at you before leaving. You swear, he’s got some sort of voodoo magic radar for your emotions.

Removing the thought of Solomon’s jests before you blush too hard, you thought of confessing to Satan before a certain someone runs his mouth about it. Should you…?

Yeah, it’s better to hear it from you than someone else – namely Solomon.

“Hey, Satan, I have a crush on you.” You told him, as casually as you can without breaking voice.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with disbelief. Satan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, taking a moment to think about his words, then simply asked, “Why…?”

Eh? “W-What do you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t really answer that. You’ve asked yourself a hundred times why you fell for a demon, the actual personification of Wrath itself, yet you can’t seem to find an answer for yourself. At least, you had no answers aside from… “I just really like you, Satan.”

He continued walking, you can feel the gears of his head turning as he oversees the situation in its logical perspective, “I’m a demon and you’re a human, need I remind you?”

That felt a pang on your chest, hearing him say it even though you are well aware of the fact.

Taking a deep breath to muster up the courage, you asked him for his final verdict, “So, you’re saying you don’t like me back?”

“Yes–!” He answered automatically, but then almost immediately denied, “Well, no.”

Huh. That’s quite confusing.

“I like you, too,” Satan smiled at you for a moment, “But things will be complicated if we think about this logically.”

Scratching the back of your head at his words, you couldn’t help yourself in saying, “When did love become a logical thing, though?”

He blushed at your words, hastening his walking speed to stop you from further seeing his reddened face, “S-Stop being too c-cute! I’m not lending you any more romance novels if you keep being so adorable!”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held your hand as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. With great precision, he coated your nails with an even layer of nail polish to match his wonderfully manicured ones.

People adore Asmodeus’ natural charm. What can you say? He’s absolutely flawless and drop-dead gorgeous.

Just thinking about the way his eyes sparkle at the news of Jeffrey Star’s new palette collection. The way he speaks excitedly whenever Prada presents their new line of designer bags. Hell, even talking about hand cream is a treat in itself whenever Asmodeus does it.

Look at you, absolutely whipped for this man and his undeniable charm.

He insists that you’re immune to his beauty yet you’re still attracted to him. It’s unfair to be this handsomely beautiful.

“Asmo, I think I have a crush on you.” You spouted out randomly, feeling his soft warm hands against yours.

“Of course, you do~” He replies as a matter-of-factly, “Everyone lusts over my magnificent–”

“I’m serious, Asmo.” You cut him off from his usual sugar-sweet line, “I like you.”

“Alright, humour me, love,” He put aside the nail polish and intertwined his hands in yours, his face closing towards yours dangerously, “If I accept your confession and we become a couple, what would you like to do with me…?”

With heated cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but he sensually placed an index finger by your lips, he whispered with that hedonistic tone of his, “In private, that is…”

In private?! Gosh, he’s asking for a lot!

Suddenly feeling parched, you gulp at the thought of what you wanted out of him if he ever accepts you as a partner. Eyes flitting anywhere except towards his, you tried your best to hold your trembling body before him - backing down now might show your lack of conviction towards him, after all.

You mumbled softly, hoping that he can hear you through your closeness, “…ds with you.”

“Tsk tsk,” The peach-haired demon grinned as he clicked his tongue, “I can’t hear you with such a silent voice. You can do better than that~”

“M-Maybe hold h-hands with you… or c-cuddle if y-you want.” You repeated a bit more audibly, your blush deepening by the second, “I-It’d be fun to go o-on a café w-with just the two of us, too.”

“KYAAA~! That’s so wholesome and adorable!!!” Asmodeus squealed in delight at your answer, throwing himself at you in a tight embrace, “Alright, I’ll be your boyfriend and we’ll do all those together~! This is so exciting!”

“No!!! Asmo, my nails!”

BEELZEBUB

From whatever ‘reliable’ and expensive source you’ve heard [definitely not Mammon], Beel apparently loves a certain sandwich menu from Hell’s Kitchen. Unfamiliar with Devildom’s cuisine and Hell’s Kitchen’s menu, you were faced with a dilemma.

The question would be… which one of the three sandwiches in the menu he likes most?

This frustrating situation made you want to curse Mammon for scamming your 100Grimm with this useless piece of information. Sighing at the thought of having to buy all three just for good measure, you saw the Avatar of Gluttony himself walking pass the restaurant.

“Beel!” You exclaimed to get his attention, waving at the tall ginger-haired demon as he looked towards your general direction, “I have a question for you!”

He greeted you with that heart-melting smile of his, eager to answer any inquiries from you. You whisked him away from the street and into the shop, asking, “Which of the sandwiches in the menu do you like most?”

“What for?”

“Just answer the question, please~”

“The one with the tartare and cheese…” He replied, eyes dreamy at the menu board, most possibly captivated by the memory of having such a treat. Beel snapped from his reverie, explaining to you why it’s his most favoured, “It’s like your human food ‘cheeseburger’!”

You nodded and ordered the exact sandwich for him, much to his surprise.

It’s like a date! You inwardly screamed, mentally giving yourself a high-five for taking advantage of this sweet opportunity.

“Let’s split up the sandwich, as thank you for buying me food…”

How sweet! The thought made you want to curl up in the floor and cry in happiness, but resisted, “Come on, let me treat you once in a while!”

You both took a seat on the less conspicuous booths of the store. As Beel ate with glee, you chatted him up, content at the moment both of you were sharing.

“Why’d you *munch* even buy me food?”

“I like you!” You answered without a sliver of a doubt, carried too much at the connection you were sharing at the time. Blinking once… twice, you realized what you’ve done.

Well, fu–

“This food sure is great,” Beel avoided looking at you and continued eating, his face noticeably red from his blushing cheeks.

Groaning in defeat, you buried your face in your hands. It’d be rude to suddenly take back what you’ve said. Stupid me, stupid, stupid–

“I thought I’m hearing things because I’m still hungry.” The ginger-haired demon explained, his hands taking yours and peeling them off from your heated face, “You’re like this sandwich, you know that?”

“W-What…?”

“It’s my favourite, just as you’re my favourite person to be with!”

BELPHEGOR

You stared at Belphegor’s sleeping face, so peaceful and at ease.

It’s hard to think of him as a demon when he’s especially languid like this.

He had invited you to watch a movie that Levi suggested, only to doze off within fifteen minutes of the production, his head perfectly placed by your lap. Deciding that the Avatar of Sloth would rather sleep than watch, you let him sleep to his heart’s content.

The moment the movie ended, you didn’t notice that your lap had fallen asleep with him. Great.

You poked his cheek, seeing if he’ll wake up. “Belphie~” You cooed, “Belphie, wake up… My thighs has fallen asleep with you~”

“Fiv.. m’nutes…” He stirred, making himself much more comfortable on your lap and on the sofa.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sighed in affection, smiling at his sleeping visage. Similar to Belphegor, you also made yourself comfortable on the sofa despite the stinging feeling by your thighs, “Alright, five more minutes, but only because I like you.”

To your surprise, Belphie spoke again, “Say that again.”

“I said you can have five more minutes, Belphie.”

“No, the second part…”

He heard that?!

You gulped, eyes avoiding his as you slowly repeated, “B-B… Because I like you.”

The raven-haired demon closed his eyes once, turning away from you, “I must be dreaming.” And within seconds, he has fallen asleep again just like that.

“No, Belphie, don’t sleep!” You stood up at his reaction to such an important confession, only to remember that he was formerly sleeping on your lap.

WHOOPS.

“Ow,” He rubbed his head after being unceremoniously thrown out of the sofa, sitting up groggily from all of the commotion, “Okay, so it’s not a dream.”

You sat beside him on the floor and rubbed his head as well, apologizing for it, “Why would think that, though?”

He looked away with a blush, “Because it’s too good to be true…”

[pomrania]

I asked for breeds of dogs to draw as pokemon types, and here they are. Some are more recognizable than others, both in type and dog breed, and some look better than others, and some were easier than others; but it was good practice.

Below the cut, there’s my running commentary throughout the process, preserved for posterity. Basically it’s just me complaining about things, but if you want to read it, that’s your decision.

WHY DID I THINK I COULD DO THIS, this was artistic hubris.

Okay, look up a compilation video for the first breed on the list, that should provide a good point of reference.

Heh goldies are funny doggos.

Okay this isn't actually so bad once I get into it.

FUCK HOW DO YOU DRAW HINDQUARTERS

Okay I remember what beagles look like, this video is a good refresher; I slept with a stuffed toy beagle when I was a kid, I got the general stuff down.

HOW THE HECK DO I MAKE THIS INTO A GHOST-TYPE

So I guess I'm going with ghostly extra wagging tails, sure why not.

A dragon-type borzoi, okay, these dogs already look like dragons, this should be easy. ...words spoken just before disaster, I know it.

Heheh them doggos got long snoots.

What was that heraldic unicorn pose again, that should work well for them....

This looks just like a dog and not like a dragon-type DAMMIT.

Next is CORGI hell yeah! They're so hecking CUTE, and I know I won't be able to draw them to their full adorable, but at least I'll have fun watching the reference video.

This seems to be coming along well.

I wasn't planning on colouring them, but I might have to, to get the markings shown properly. But that will be AFTER I've done everything else.

Flying-type samoyed! I love samoyeds, they're so FLOOFY. Well actually the person suggested air-type, but euh.

Okay I have a good idea for this one. Don't know how well it'll turn out, but that's art for you.

Okay yes this is adorable and I love it.

Most of what I know about rottweilers, is that pretty much all of them that I've met, have been aggressively friendly, like "knock you over in an effort to lick every square inch of your face" aggressively friendly. Not really sure how I can convey that, or how I can show a rock-type, but that's what "trying things and seeing what happens" is for.

Oh frick I'm gonna have to draw 3D geometrics for the "rock" stuff ain't I.

Hm a "geode" type design might be cool; I'm prolly not the best person for that, but I'll bloody well try anyways.

Aaand I hit a major block, what even POSE do I use for this. Gah. Welp, when in doubt, go for the most basic stuff possible. Can I do better than that? Yes. WILL I do better than that, right at this moment? Probably not.

Rotties are big chonks aren't they.

Hm. Okay this doesn't necessarily look very "rottweiler", but it DOES cover up a bunch of my mistakes in anatomy, and I've always thought this style looks cool.

...I think I'm just going to skip "fighting-type boxer", since I'm willing to bet actual money that someone has already drawn that, it's just so obvious. And also this was one of two suggestions, so I don't feel guilty about ignoring that person (because I didn't ignore them).

Labs are like the most "generic" looking dogs I can think of, how am I gonna do this cool?

Two compilation videos later, I don't even have a CONCEPT in mind. The best idea I have is something playing off of a snowman, but that's literally it; those words, no image.

Heh, maybe one jumping in the air with a dopey expression to catch a snowflake? Seems a bit complicated, but I'll think on it.

Huh I don't think I've ever drawn a dog chasing their own tail before. It's a good exercise in posing and "okay if this motion is being made, how would the limbs move". Still frustrating though.

But how do I make it ICE-TYPE?! At least I have some vague ideas for the next one, but that's for ONCE I'VE FINISHED THIS ONE.

...I'm at a loss. I'm going to look up ice-type pokemon for some inspiration.

So it seems to be mostly shown in colouring, WELL THAT'S NO HELP TO ME.

Screw it I'm going basic as hell. ...or maybe just STUPID as hell, because I decided to draw a dog wearing skates.

This was the worst of all of them, but it's DONE now.

Maltese doggos already look like fairies, but I've learned from the borzoi one, that this just makes it HARDER. (They sure are hecking adorable though.)

They're just little puffs of fur! How can I make them look distinct?

Oh yeah there's also the "show" grooming they can have.

Some vague ideas, but I'll also check the list of fairy-type pokemon for inspiration.

Okay I'm just going to go full Baby as that seems to be the general trend.

This just looks like a regular maltese.

That's not MUCH better, but it's SOMETHING, and that's the end of the list so woot I'm done.

[writtenfan]

Aiding a Damsal in Distress

DisneyHades x Reader

A little imagine where Hades tries to help you de-stress in the best way he can... by talking your ear off.

“Alright babe, I’m going ta need you to relaaaax….”

His voice pacifies you as it drawls on the a’s and his smoke flickers around at your feet.

He daintily rubs his thumb against your chin and smoothly glides to your side and massages your shoulders but he suddenly pushes you down and you fall hard into a plush black armchair which spins around and starts gliding backward as he follows.

“Take a load off, catch that breath, and bimbo-fy your mind. I mean, no need being your own worst enemy because come on, little cream puff like you. Too sweet for such worrisome thoughts y’ know?”

He looks at you with a smirk. “Bottom line, stop being all-” he dances his fingers around near his head and scrunches his face.

“-up here and bring it dowwwwn…” he presses down on an invisible force 

“…heh, underworld style, get me?”

Your armchair floats and plops itself near a fireplace ablaze with calming blue flames, wonder who lit it?

He flicks his finger and your pushed back and the chair provides your feet with some comfort as you lay with newly reclined flair.

“Badabing! There we go, how you like it?” he stretches his arms in the air and does a fake yawn before laying down in midair on his side, his hand propping his head up and he glides back to your side, the blue light illuminating his wide fanged smile. 

“Being on two feet, gah-“ he rolls his eyes “-overrated, don’t know why they didn’t ditch that years ago, I mean it takes more than mark 1 to make the perfect machine right? I think it’s time to alter the blueprints of human anatomy a bit. Because ah no offense babe, but if I had the reigns humans would look way- way different.”

 He eyes you up and down with a devilish grin taking in your cute expressions, (even the angry-looking ones were cute to him) “Cut a few unneeded appendages.” he makes scissor gestures across your body. Swipe a few organs, rearrange a few pieces and BAM hombre 2.0”

“Heh- except for you mi amor...You have the perfect look going on.” He flutters his eyes and makes his voice sound sweet and sing-songy and you smirk at him and that makes him even worse. 

“Wouldn’t want to mess with perfection, you’re the only sweet seed of the fruit, sugar. The fairest of them all, my prized talisman…my little fairy…my spinning wheel my-ha, I see that look on your face…fine fine…” a few silent moments pass and he cant help but break it. “-and by the way back to the whole human cutting up bit.”

“I’d really just do all that for fun.” He laughs viciously and looks into the fire “I wouldn’t even do it on Olympus either, just grab a few unexpecting subjects and-” He looks at your cringing face and shrugs with a smug smile 

“ -Hey, I call it art. I mean have you seen the masterpieces Medusa has made?” We really need to go to one of her art installations, she just. “Muah” decorates a room! I've gotta buy a few of her pieces but whoah those drachma prices are higher than Aquarius! I’ll even tolerate the artsy-fartsy Bansky types if I get to go to one of those little art openings with you, I know how much you hate when I break up a shindig.” He chuckles nervously as he looks into your eyes for approval. “But Im breaking it you now, if they bring in a comb and stick it on a table and call it something like “The discovery of manmade urges” I’m going to toss a few heads”

“Am I helping you calm down? Well, ahem, let me still try a different approach.”

He hovers over your armrest his face next to yours and he begins to rub his clawed hand in your hair and against you forehead, humming surprisingly sweetly in the back of his throat.

His fingers massaged your scalp, just hard enough to feel good. He even trailed the tips of his fingers ever so light against you face, he was so skilled in keeping a constant sense of ease that his touch almost made your eyes roll to the back of your head in bliss.

“Damn you’re beautiful, you know that?”

His fingers massage in tiny circles on the top of your head.

“I’m lucky to have a gal like you in my life. You’re truly something…” 

His voice is so smooth and soft, your melting.

“…I know I’m not the guy to get all, down to heart feely-feely and all, but I really can’t help but turn all mushy soft mode on ya. Ha! I just can’t seem to explain how much you mean to me…It makes me sick.” 

He fake retches and laughs nervously as he leans in and presses his cold lips against your forehead, leaving them there as he continues to rub your head. He gently moves away and gives you a closed-mouth smile. His eyes filled with genuine adoration.

“Just keep on breathing for me sweetheart, long deep breathes, that’s right. Let’s just sit and relax awhile…”

“…I ain’t going nowhere.”

[the-voltage-diaries]

Hi! I noticed you're another fellow Taki fanatic. Just out of curiosity, but why is taki your favorite?

Hey hey!

Let’s be real, Taki is my absolute favourite otome guy; at this point its facts. I love everything about him, from his smile, to his smirk, to his sexy self, to his handsomeness, to his blush, to his grin, to his boyishness, to how he is WHIPPED for MC, to his dynamic with others fellow characters, to how he has his fair share of shortcomings, to how he ain’t perfect at everything, to- you get it.

I can write an essay on this and I’m not even kidding you, so you’re in for a treat. It’s time to dig deeper into what exactly is it about Taki that makes me love him so freaking much.

But before we do that, a very special thanks to @awesomeallseeingeye for helping me out with this! You’re the absolute best.

Disclaimer: The following post contains spoilers from Taki’s season 3, Shun’s season 4 Part 1 and a few other stories from Kings of Paradise. Also, there are mentions of some nsfw 18+ stuff yes sexc Taki, so please read at your own discretion!

Now, without further ado, here’s the list under the cut~

Consent King Consent and consensual sex are two things that hold a lot of importance when it comes to getting intimate, and when I say “consent”, I do not mean dubious or implied consent. I mean a scenario where it is clearly spelt out that if the other party does NOT want to be a part of it, the first party won’t continue. Now, when it comes to Taki, it is downright admirable how Taki always seeks for MC’s permission before doing anything intimate. He makes it clear that he will not do anything more unless the MC wants it too, and he doesn’t shy away from declaring how he is even willing to wait (no matter how long it takes) for the MC to be comfortable enough to go ahead with the deed. I adore this quality so much, and the fact that there isn’t ONE scene, apart from his season 3 MS where one scene had dubious consent (which Taki felt TERRIBLE about, himself),  where it isn’t explicitly states how he seeks VERBAL consent speaks volumes about how principled this man is. Swoon

Total Adorkababy While Taki was a stoic, sexy, stiff, smirking CEO in Seasons 1 and 2, he makes a 180 following his Season 3, which is understandable considering how he basically bares his soul to the MC in that season. MC and Taki become very, VERY close on an emotional level post Season 3, and the change in Taki is such a sight to behold. He is much more in tune with how he feels, and is, as a result, a lot more expressive with them too. Which is adorable, because while a part of Taki has grown up into a 30-year-old successful and mature CEO, the OTHER part of him, which is still a teenage insecure li’l baby, is more prominent when it comes to his feelings towards his MC. He is a literal blushy baby who stubs his toe because he is so shaken up upon seeing his MC wear a sexy red lacy lingerie lmfao. He needs to be preserved. He is precious. He is adorable. He needs all the love in the world. I rest my case.

GOLD PoVs His internal thoughts are just what I said, G O L D. Going back to the part where I said opening up to the MC made him come more in terms with his emotions post the debt trauma than ever before, Taki becomes more expressive not only with MC on the outside, but with himself on the inside too. He allows a much more open, vulnerable and worried side of him to rear it’s head and as a result, we have a Taki who cannot contain himself and basically short circuits whenever his MC does something out of the ordinary or is just cute. Taki, while on the outside appears calm, collected, and sure of himself, is just the complete opposite on the inside. He overthinks in the most hilarious of ways, goes p a n i k when he sees his MC, and his internal thoughts are a complete new story. It’s so worth it lmfao, this babie I love him pls protecc him tysm.

Considerate Companion While Taki is an amazing human being and the most considerate man on the planet in his own main story, I’d like to stress how equally brilliant he is in OTHERS’ stories too. We know that MC is Taki’s ex, and that it’s pretty obvious he still loves her even in the routes of other characters from the game. But, despite that, he is the kind of guy who is willing to step on his own heart and crush his feelings so long as the MC is happy, even if she is with someone else. It breaks him - it really does, but he has no problem standing on the sidelines and smiling at MC and her beau, wishing her well. Here’s a snippet from Shun’s Season 4 Part 1, where Taki was the love rival. He wished to get back together with the MC, but once the MC told him she cannot go back to him, he simply accepted it and told her to go back to her man. Furthermore, he even APOLOGISED for putting her in that spot. Can we just give this man all the applause there is to give?

Actually Apologetic This man knows when an apology is due, and doesn’t shy away from acknowledging his faults, or his shortcomings, or the analyzing where he went wrong in order to get better. He wants to be the best possible man for his MC, and will do whatever it takes to get there. He makes promises and keeps them instead of sweeping things under the rug and just moving on. When MC teaches him the importance of communication and even fighting in a relationship, he learns it like an obedient student and makes sure he doesn’t repeat the same errors twice. Freakin’ love that about him. This man knows that apologising won’t make him smaller. THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE STAN.

Emotionally Vulnerable Another thing Taki doesn’t shy away from apart from apologising is being emotionally vulnerable, even to the point where he literally breaks down. Now, while other points were more generic about him, this is pretty specific. This happened in Season 3, and while it took a while for the MC and Taki to get so far down the road of character development, once the dam broke, it broke. I haven’t seen a lot of Voltage men become so emotionally open and vulnerable that they physically show it - shakey hands, tears, feeling the need to be in MC’s close proximity for physical support, et cetera. In his Season 3 when MC FINALLY gets through to him, this man breaks the fuck down. He shakes, he trembles, he almost cries. He lets his MC see him at his absolute lowest. That kind of trust, that kind of openness... gah, just makes me fall for him even more.

Ovaries Exploder Okay, enough of the gut and heart wrenching stuff. Let’s get down to the sexy stuff. Taki Kozaki is a sexy man, periodt. He knows how to be sexy, how to be suave, and how to be so seductive you could feel your ovaries explode. This point is solely here because I just HAD to share his orgasm face and his love for the bunny-wolf roleplay. Thank you for joining me on this amazing journey where we have no regrets because we get a hot Taki. Can I marry him already plez. Just like plez.

Annnd that successfully brings us to the end of this list. Kind of. Sort of. I mean, I still have over 500 things to share but I don’t know if tumblr can take any more of my rambling.

THAT SAID, thank you so much for sending in such a brilliant ask! I had so much fun answering this one haha. I totally did not almost read all of those stories again as I collected the screenshots jk I totally did. I’m guessing you like Taki too, yes? I’d love to hear your list of reasons why you adore this precious man yourself!

Once again, thank you! ❤️

[valmerappreciationhours]

Ain’t No Lie (Baby I’m Bi Bi Bi)

Clenny Week Day 1--Fake Dating

Clyde's fake-dating plan needs a boy for it to work. Kenny McCormick seems like the best option. There's no way this could go off course.

(or read on Ao3 here)

how down wud u b 4 pretendng 2 dte me

               Clyde gave the almighty message a nod and folded the ripped notebook paper into a sloppy airplane. He aimed when the teacher’s back was turned, sending the paper careening across the room. Clyde caught Craig’s eye and flashed a toothy grin alongside a big thumbs up. Success! Craig leaned over the gap between their desks and whispered, “You remembered to sign it, right?”

               Best friends as they may be, Craig had always been one to bring down the mood.

               The comment had the desired effect of Clyde straining across his desk to try and see the location of his airplane on the other end of the room, knocking off a flurry of papers in the process. Vaguely, Clyde could hear Craig and Token’s simultaneous sighs, Tweek’s startled yelp, and Jimmy’s chuckling. None of that was what he was looking for, though. That was being picked up off the floor by bandaged fingers in frayed gloves.

               The airplane was examined just long enough to read the name scrawled out in pencil before being unfolded. The reader gave no visible reaction before tucking the sheet inside a beat-up parka and critically glancing around the class. Tired eyes raked over the crowd of faces and-

               Kenny saw Clyde.

               They made eye contact. The teacher droned on. Kenny rose an eyebrow; Clyde nodded as the answer to the unspoken question, grinning just a little sheepishly. Kenny pulled the crumpled paper back out and reread it, then grabbed the nearest pen (which happened to be on Kyle’s desk) and made a few marks. The paper was sent back by airplane, and Clyde tore the paper with the speed in which it was unfolded.

               Y

               Clyde blinked down at the paper. He tapped his pencil to his chin, thinking what to add. What could he say here that would wow the fabled Kenny McCormick? He passed the sheet over to Craig to see as well, whispering, “what would you say are some of my best qualities?”

               Craig glanced back up with a deadpan expression. “He’s asking why you want to pretend date.”

               One could practically see the lightbulb flick on above Clyde’s head. “Oh! That’s way easier to answer!” Before he could turn back to the paper with newfound spark, it was whisked off the desk. Clyde looked up to see the teacher looming with the note, a dark shadow of doom cast over the desk.

               “I must kindly ask you not to pass notes in my class, Mr. Donovan. Last warning.” The paper was promptly tossed out and the lesson returned to, leaving a very distressed jock and a poor kid with a little more interest than he walked into class with.

--

 When the bell rang and students hastily pushed their way out, Clyde was a man with a mission. He and Craig shared a nod and went separate directions, one with the goal to distract an inquisitive friend group, and the other to find a blob of orange in the dense crowd. Clyde fought his way through, sights trained on the orange coat he’d spotted. Almost there—

               “Hi, Clyde.”

               Clyde stared at the boy. That couldn’t be right. “Wait, Kyle, since when do you wear orange?”

               Kyle gave back a funny look. “Since always?”

               “Cut him some slack, Kahl.” One of Eric Cartman’s more prominent skills was surely butting into conversations uninvited. “He’s been playing sports with Stan; you can’t expect him to stay smart.” Cartman cleared his throat and dramatically turned, ignoring Stan’s protest. “What. Do. You. Neeeed?” He blatantly overenunciated, and was happy to do so loudly.

Clyde’s cheeks reddened, but he pressed forward. “Isn’t Kenny usually with you guys?” Cartman was quick to make a wisecrack about Clyde and Kenny, and Stan answered while his friends argued.

“Dude, he’s just in the bathroom. He can’t afford a vape so we know it won’t be too long.”

Not too long, huh. Clyde adjusted his varsity jacket, leaning against the wall in a futile attempt to look cool and chill next to Stan’s infamous gang. The sacrifice would be worth it if he could just get Kenny’s response.

True to Stan’s word, Kenny stepped out after a moment, wiping his hands on dirty, ripped pants. When he looked up and saw Clyde intermingled with his group, his body language lit up. Smooth as anything, he sidestepped his usual crowd and held out a hand to Clyde, who was simply a little confused, but had the spirit and took the hand. Kenny confidently stepped off with Clyde in tow, flashing back a finger-gun and a wink, leaving Stan, Kyle, and Cartman in varying states of shock.

“I totally knew they were gay, you guys! I totally said it!”

The resulting shouts reverberated around the hall, but they were easy enough to tune out. Besides, it just meant the plan was already kicking into gear.

As for the pair, Kenny had yet to put his gloves back on, and Clyde could feel the ridges of every bandage on his hand. The skin was cool to the touch, but surprisingly gentle. If pressed, Clyde would claim that any embarrassment he felt in that moment was simply because Kenny grabbing his hand was out of the blue. Still, he was quick to snap back to the cool-guy demeanor he so desperately wanted to achieve.

“So. Class.” Maybe not as cool as he might’ve been in his imagination.

“Mhm,” Kenny hummed behind his coat. “I was actually thinking we should skip.”

Clyde grinned. “Cool.” His math homework lay unfinished in his folder, so a little postponement would be beneficial on all fronts here. He’d take Kenny over algebra any day. Clyde swung their joined hands aimlessly between them, smile still dancing on his features. “Where were you thinking of going?”

Kenny looked over, eyes twinkling. “Well I don’t take cute boys to the Goth hangout.”

Led by Kenny, the two dashed out a forgotten exit at the end of an abandoned hall. From there, it was a short walk through overgrown weeds and unshoveled snow to a weary-looking shed. Clyde eyed the building warily; the hinges creaked when Kenny pried open the door, and the thing seemed to sway with the wind. Besides, the whole structure was grimy and rotten. Clearly forgotten, it was the perfect place for sneaking away to, at least.

Inside, Kenny had already plopped onto the floor. He waited for Clyde to join in the dirt before starting the conversation with about as much taste as one could expect from the most troublesome gang in school. “Trying to impress the Asian girls or what?”

“Huh?”

Kenny leaned back, casual. “Creek was a big hit; my first guess is that you wanted a piece of that attention. Guy and guy, people eat it up.”

“Well—actually, I hadn’t thought about that…but no! No one believes I’m bi.” Clyde paused, waiting for a reaction—there was always a reaction—but his companion was living up to his reputation of being the quiet type. “Token thinks it’s the jacket, but Jimmy thought it was a joke when I told him I like dudes!” It had been upsetting at the time, but remembering his friend laughing and snorting chocolate milk out of his nose helped. “I thought, if I showed people I could date guys, then they would be lining up after we stage a break-up!” It was a fool-proof plan, if he did say so himself.

Kenny nodded. “Solid. So what brought you to Kenneth McCormick?”

“Aside from being one of the only out guys in school, come on! You’re Kenny McCormick!” Clyde gestured to his friend, voice loud and excited. “Everyone knows you’re basically a relationship god! Besides, it won’t be as much of a big deal, because, uh…” Clyde’s spark fizzled out awkwardly, one hand rubbing his neck.

Kenny’s expression remained unchanged. “Because I get around.”

“Which is like, so cool.” Clyde said quietly, afraid of disturbing the tense atmosphere. The awe, however, was genuine to its core.

Kenny’s right eye crinkled ever so slightly. “Yeah. ‘Cept the dying from syphilis.”

The cold air that filled the shed didn’t seem to matter at all in that moment, nor the dilapidated and disgusting wood they were sat on. What did matter was that the atmosphere between them was warm, just two bros hanging out and skipping class. Clyde watched the small puffs of warm air drift up out of Kenny’s parka and watched the way those blue eyes shone with mischief. This was gonna be such a great idea.

 --

 “Hey, babe!”

               Token, Tweek, and Jimmy watched with wide eyes as Clyde hailed Kenny over to their lunch table, draping an arm around him. Clyde’s round face was lit up with a grin.

               “The m-m-madman actually did it.” Jimmy’s mouth hung open, braces glinting in the light.

               “Oh my god.” Token’s salad lay forgotten in the wake of this much more important news.

               “Gah!” Tweek grabbed onto his boyfriend’s sleeve. “Did you know about this? Has this always been happening? Kenny?”

               Craig continued to poke at his mashed potatoes. His voice maintained its flat nature, but those who knew him well could notice the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Clyde’s my best friend; I knew. They’re kind of perfect for each other.”

               Kenny continued to hover at Clyde’s side, the two of them deep in conversation. Kenny was laughing, Clyde looking insanely proud of himself. It was Token who recovered from the sheer shock first.

               “Uh, why don’t you sit down, Kenny?”

               A pleased noise made its way out of the thick orange parka, and Kenny slid onto the bench next to Clyde. His arms were noticeably empty, but he used that as an opportunity to sling one around Clyde’s shoulders.

               Tweek stared, eyes as large as saucers. “How long?”

               “A whole week,” Clyde proudly announced, spraying half-chewed food across the table.

               “I g-gotta hand it to—to you, Clyde. I didn’t think you could get a b—bo—a bo--, I didn’t think you could s-snag a man.” Jimmy leaned on the table, soaking up the news.

               “Yeah, man,” Token smiled, ever the diplomat, “Congratulations!”

               Tweek tapped his fingers anxiously on his thermos, continuing to stare directly at the new duo. Jimmy leaned farther across the table, stage-whispering to Clyde, “h-how much did you p-p-pay for that one?”

               Kenny leaned onto the table, matching the other, calm. “You couldn’t afford me.”

               That sent the table into a fit of laughs, save for Tweek, who only produced a weak chuckle and narrowed his eyes at Kenny. When the object of scrutiny looked over, Tweek mouthed a small “I don’t trust you,” and twitched. If a member of Stan’s gang thought he could just waltz into their clique and manipulate Clyde’s heart, he was sorely mistaken. Tweek would be cautious. He’d protect his friends.

               Tweek was startled out of his thoughts, yelping when he felt a sudden hand on his arm, but looked over into the concerned face of his boyfriend. “Are you okay?”

               “It’s Kenny,” Tweek whispered, agonized.

               “Clyde’s happy,” Craig responded casually.

               Tweek nervously glanced back to the intruder. Clyde was leaning on Kenny, waving his hands as he told a story. Kenny watched with passive interest, blue eyes alight. The two looked so comfortable next to each other, bright and content. Tweek twitched. “Clyde’s happy,” he had to admit. “But if Kenny turns out to be an evil monster from another dimension, it’s—gah! —it’s not my fault when all our souls get stolen!”

               Across the table, Kenny snorted.

 --

 “Do you want Doritos or barbeque chips?” Clyde called out from his perch on the kitchen counter. His arms were already laden with food, but chips were mandatory to complete the hangout.

               “Barbeque!” Kenny yelled back from the other room. Clyde added the red bag to his collection and climbed down to head back. He rounded the corner into the living room and dumped his snack spoils into a heap on the ground. Kenny’s blue eyes were wide as he took in the size of the pile.

               “Just grab whatever, I don’t know what you like.” Clyde plopped himself down on the carpet and extracted a soda. It hissed as he cracked it open and took a sip. Kenny scooted over, abandoning his notebook, hand hovering over the snacks. He finally grabbed a packaged cupcake and eagerly tore in.

The weather may have been getting colder, but the inside of the Donovan household was plenty warm. Clyde had ditched his varsity jacket for a t-shirt and some old sweats, while Kenny still donned his heavy parka. It was making Clyde sweat just looking at the faux fur trim and heavy fabric. “You wanna lose the coat, dude? My dad’s got lots of heaters.”

Kenny looked up from his food and shook his head. “Nah,” and his eyes crinkled, “you couldn’t handle all the looks I’m packing.”

“Maybe I should get a parka then,” Clyde mused. “It would help from having to fend the ladies off with a stick. This beauty is a curse.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at the last comment, but didn’t say anything. Clyde was getting used to that; after hanging out with his group who always had something to say, the silence was a bizarre shift. He supposed it balanced out the constant screaming and arguing by the people Kenny hung out with.

Kenny happily moved to grab the bag of chips, and Clyde slid him a soda and juice as well. Kenny opted for the juice box, maneuvering the straw through the zipper of his mouth guard. Clyde stared down the fabric, curiosity ebbing at his thoughts. Maybe Kenny was right; maybe he was unspeakably attractive behind that coat. Kenny caught his eye, and Clyde quickly glanced away.

The snack pile slowly wore down, no match for their combined appetites. Clyde led the conversation between mouthfuls of food, from video games to the latest drama to why Red Racer was actually cool and not a nerd show, and no, Craig did not have him brainwashed. Clyde was happy to blabber on, and the jokes Kenny intercepted with were of the utmost quality. Indeed, Kenneth, that is what she said.

Clyde swallowed his chewed cheese snacks, and made the spur of the moment decision to drag Kenny into the current topic. “How would you rate the guys in our class?”

Kenny wiped his mouth. “Stoley’s a zero. Don’t like that he has the same name as my brother.”

“You have a brother?” The little Karen McCormick he knew about, but another sibling was a surprise. “How come I haven’t seen him?”

Kenny shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “He dropped out. Kev’s working at a car garage now.”

The pieces fit together in Clyde’s head. “Oh! Because your family’s poor!” He felt proud of his innocent realization, but that soon dwindled. Kenny’s tired eyes stared him down, and Clyde was suddenly struck with the sheer number of wrappers that surrounded his friend on the floor. “But cars are cool!” he tried. “I can’t wait to drive!” The wind in his hair, a shiny new vehicle, impressing everyone around; it was a dream.

“I’ve already driven,” Kenny proclaimed, happy to share his accomplishment. “And I didn’t even die once.” Of course, Stan’s gang would’ve gotten into that. Nothing stood between those guys and doing whatever they wanted.

“I hope you didn’t die,” Clyde shot back, smile tugging at his lips as he climbed up onto the couch. He grabbed the remote from where it was wedged between two cushions.

“You’d be surprised.” Kenny laid back on the carpet, arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed.

“It would suck so bad if you died, dude.” The noise of various channels filled the room as Clyde flipped through, but things were weirdly quiet in Kenny’s corner. When Clyde looked over, his companion had a strange look on his face.

“Yeah,” he finally responded, gaining humor in his voice, “you’d have to find some other sorry guy to fake date you.”

“Hey! You suck!”

“I didn’t know we were at that stage of our relationship,” Kenny taunted, waggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up, dude!” Block it out, Donovan, block it out. This is just some temporary stuff, chilling with a homie. Grabbing the attention of some cute guys in the school while casually respecting the cute guy in front of him platonically. Still a good plan. “Wanna pick a movie? My dad gets home in like three hours.”

Kenny gave an enthusiastic thumbs up and leaned against the couch as the film played. Clyde had to keep himself from inviting his friend up to the couch as well. Cuddling during movies is not a bro activity, he reminded himself. Kenny’s parka would be stifling pressed against his skin anyway.

 --

 “No, he’s dating Kenny McCormick.”

               “Yeah, he’s hella bi.”

               Clyde strolled through the halls, head held high, confidence levels way up. Being a topic of hallway conversation made his heart swell and put a little skip in his step. His eyes caught on a poster hanging on the wall, and it only made his grin spread.

               Art Club Wednesdays, the sheet announced. Beneath the colorful lettering was a drawing, bursting with oranges and reds. The shading was bold, and the fabric folds boasted a level of artistic expertise. The limbs may have looked a little wonky, but it got the point across.

               Clyde raised his phone to take a quick picture. He’d say they captured his roguish handsomeness pretty well.

 --

 “You guys are so cute!” Bebe had gushed in the back row of Home Ec. In the seat beside her, Kenny poked a needle and thread through his project, making a noise of agreement. “I think it’s good he’s found someone, I felt so bad for the guy after we broke up.” She pressed another pink sequin to her own swatch of fabric and set to stitching it on.

“I’d say he’s pretty satisfied right now.” Kenny winked at Bebe, who bumped him on the arm, careful not to disrupt their stitching.

“You’re a dog, McCormick.” Bebe’s eyeroll was betrayed by the smile playing at her painted lips.

“Maybe so.” Kenny shrugged, slipping the needle through again. “No complaints so far.”

“Hey,” Bebe prompted, “Has he fallen asleep on you yet?” Her eyes were bright, and the lift of her mouth just a tad mischievous.

Kenny raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. “Oh?”

Bebe adjusted her project on the table. “When we were dating, he would always be so affectionate. It’s like moving a cat.” When she finished her current loop stitch, she fished out her phone and unlocked it. “I think I still have pictures of him drooling everywhere. It’s always important to have blackmail material.”

Kenny bit the end of his thread off with his teeth, and began threading a new one. “But he’s real soft for cuddling,” he provided, “like a built-in pillow.”

“That was top-tier snuggling,” she admitted, sliding her phone over. “Check out these pictures.”

“Holy shit.” Now that was the good stuff. Equal parts adorable and terribly embarrassing. Bebe Stevens was truly an artist.

Caught up in the photos, Kenny’s hand and needle slipped, effectively intercepting his other arm at an angle that tore open a line of skin. The blood gushed out, and he hissed, covering as much of the wound as he could. His glove and fingers quickly stained red. Bebe yelped at the sight, but reacted fast, grabbing both of their projects out of the splash zone. “You’re a real one,” Kenny smiled at her, albeit weakly. He shot off a quick and earnest finger gun before falling out of his stool.

 --

 Bebe was right in the statement that Clyde was affectionate. He was always pressing his knee against Kenny’s at lunch, or swinging their hands together when they walked. Kenny had made an educated guess in saying that Clyde was like a pillow, and he was indubitably pleased to find that it was true.

               Kenny was finding a lot of things about Clyde pretty great, actually.

 --

 “—but Craig doesn’t like coffee at all so I wonder how he kisses Tweek so often, you know?” Clyde prattled on, breath forming puffs in the cool Colorado air. The layer of snow left on the sidewalk crunched as the duo strolled through, hands wound together.

               “Maybe the homo cancels out the coffee,” Kenny theorized, the idea doubly muffled by his hood and the whistling of the wind.

               Clyde tapped his chin. “That does make sense, but I was also thinking that Tweek probably kisses all quick since he gets nervous like that and Craig isn’t affectionate anyway—”

               “How would you kiss me?” Clyde looked over to the glittering blue eyes of his fake boyfriend. The wind was rough, and had blown out a few strands of blond hair from the confines of the parka. Despite the time they’d known each other, Clyde still had trouble distinguishing the other’s mischievous teasing and genuine intrigue. It probably had something to do with the small amount of uncovered skin or the already quiet nature. He doubted Stan or Kyle or Cartman could do any better.

               Clyde opted to answer with the guess that Kenny was messing around, which he thought was pretty likely. He stopped in his tracks, moving the hand that wasn’t holding Kenny’s to the latter’s hood. The crinkle that characterized a typical Kenny grin was quickly replaced with wide eyes. “Ken, dude, babe, I would kiss you into next week. People would talk about it for generations as the best kiss ever conceived. It would be legendary.”

               Kenny gingerly took Clyde’s hand from his hood, holding it in his own. “I think you’re mistaken,” he hummed. “I’m sure the school would agree that I would be the one kissing you into next week.”

               Clyde considered. “It would get a lot of attention…” That was the goal here, after all. If giving Kenny a smooch would help accomplish it, so be it. There were definitely worse people to kiss.

When it came to it, attention was certainly grabbed. Deemed the perfect time by the amount of student traffic between classes, Clyde and Kenny nodded like the genius agents they believed themselves to be. After exchanging quick conversation, they knew it was time to enact.

               “I’ll see you after class,” Kenny cooed.

               “See you later, babe,” Clyde concurred, and reached over to pull down the piece of the coat covering Kenny’s mouth.

               The worn fabric bunched, and Clyde was struck with the face of an angel. Pink and purple bandages hugged the curve of Kenny’s cheek and the point of his chin. Freckles exploded across his thin cheeks, darting across his nose, cut by various scar lines. Dried blood still presented itself on the corner of his lip, which had obviously been busted. Kenny was missing a tooth on the right side, prominent and unspeakably adorable when he grinned. Clyde could have stared forever, but was interrupted by Kenny leaning in and pressing their mouths together.

               And he thought just looking at Kenny was good!

               When the fireworks finished, Kenny’s coat was back up in half a second. Clyde had decided that damned parka would be his new greatest enemy. Sorry, Arby’s cashier on Maple Street, there’s new priorities. “You were right,” Kenny proclaimed with a teasing lilt, smile evident in his voice, “you were doing some serious kissing.”

               When Kenny turned tail and went to class, Clyde stared after. He continued to stand in the hallway after the bell rang, too focused on the phantom brush of heavy fabric on his face and the metallic taste of a bleeding lip in his mouth.

 --

 “When are you going to break up?”

               Clyde looked up from where he was struggling with his essay. “Break up with Kenny?”

               Craig spun around in his desk chair, so Clyde could clearly see him roll his eyes. “Unless you’re dating someone else. Yeah, Kenny.”

               Clyde blinked. “Why would I break up with Kenny?” This conversation was making about as much sense as his homework. Craig always seemed generally supportive, and Clyde thought his escapades with Kenny were going well.

               The two stared at each other for a few awkward moments before Craig finally gave in. “You’re fake dating. You thought it would be a great idea to use him to start raking in the boys.”

               “Oh yeah!” It was all clicking back into place now! “Oh god.” They weren’t actually dating. That forgotten fact came back around like a freight train.

               Craig gave him a long hard look. “How do you forget you’re fake dating someone?”

               Pink tinged Clyde’s cheeks. “It felt very real!” he defended.

               Craig set his pen down, lab report abandoned. “Well, do you think it’s real?” Clyde paused, and Craig continued, voice as even and monotone as ever. “You’ve talked more about Kenny in the past month than Red Racer. It got on my nerves but you looked sooo happy.”

               “He’s a really good kisser,” Clyde added fondly.

               Craig leaned back. “I would say just ignore emotions until they go away,” he sighed, “but Tweek would tell you to talk to him.”

               Clyde grinned cheekily at the mention. “You mean, all this time, Tweek was the master of relationships?”

Craig’s mouth twitched into what might barely count as a smile. “Yeah. He’s way better than you could ever be.”

Clyde fell back onto the carpet, clasping a hand over his chest. “The betrayal! From my own best friend! You are not getting invited to my wedding!”

The words fell on only half-interested ears, as Craig had turned back to his science papers. “Bold of you to believe I would show up anyway.”

“You wound me, Craigory.”

“Then perish.”

 --

 It was the perfect location, in Clyde’s opinion. The Taco Bell on the corner of Gibson Avenue was a shining pillar of all that was right and delicious in the world. The third table by the window had been there for so many special moments and endless menu combinations. There could be no better place.

Clyde figured if Kenny fake-real dumped him, he could just drown his sorrows in nachos and spicy chalupas. Taco Bell would understand.

The two slid into their usual seats, the familiar smell of seasoning and meat easing some of Clyde’s nerves. Truly the best place, and today had to be the day. If Tweek was utilizing relationship knowledge that could help Craig Tucker of all people, Clyde was smart enough to take it to heart. It was just a matter of bringing it up.

“So, how’s dating me going?”

Kenny looked up, bemused. “You’re the man of my dreams, Clyde Donovan. I’m swept off my feet.” He pulled some coins out of his coat and began counting them out on the table.

Clyde flushed. “I mean actually. I wanna talk about dating you.”

“Oh.” Kenny looked up, shifting a penny to a second pile. He looked disheartened, but Clyde just had to push through, and then he could cry into his tacos. No backing out now.

“I wanna date you for real.” The words tumbled out in a rush, destroying any façade of cool.

The seconds ticked by. This was it; the deciding moment. The answer that would determine the rest of their interactions for forever. The two stared at each other, brown eyes against blue.

The tense silence was broken by Kenny leaning far back in his seat, fists in the air, punctuated by a muffled “woo-hoo!” The clatter of the chair and boy hitting the hard floor reverberated through the restaurant. Other customers looked over, undoubtedly irritated by the disruption, but the employees, upon seeing the two familiar faces, didn’t bother to bat an eye.

Clyde leaned over the table, eyebrows bunched, concern cut across his face. He found Kenny sprawled, limbs caught in the topped chair, grinning like a madman. He made no move to get up from the greasy tile, but his eyes glittered. “I was hoping you would.”

A matching wild smile spread across Clyde’s face. “Wanna celebrate with tacos?” He stretched over to better look Kenny in the face.

Kenny got a hold on Clyde’s jacket, closing the space between them. He shrugged. “Can’t afford it. I’ll see what I can get off your face.”

Clyde quickly pulled his boyfriend to his feet, rushing toward the register. “Then what are we waiting for? Finally, my two favorite things combined into one!”

“Me and tacos?”

“You and tacos!”

 --

 A month had passed, and the two were lying on the Donovan’s carpet amidst cola stains and snack wrappers, when a question hit Clyde. A question he hadn’t considered before, but was important enough that he knew it wouldn’t go away until he asks. He looked up from his Animal Crossing town to gaze at his boyfriend.

               “Why did you agree to fake date in the first place, anyway?”

               Kenny grinned, and Clyde knew seeing that missing tooth and freckles would never get old. “I thought it would be fun.”

               The simple phrase made Clyde smile, and he knew he had Cheeto dust caked on his cheek, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. “You were right.”

               “You know what else would be fun?” Kenny set down his PS4, and Clyde could swear that the glow from the screen didn’t match any graphics he knew of, but there were more important things at the moment.

               “Making out?”

               Yeah, he was always gonna love seeing that smile.

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author's note: im SORRY im really not over the last chapter. i fr never will be. but yea this one is based on the last chapter a lot more strictly. ALSO the very end issss ooc for gray but it was a cute ending soooo yea hehe. ok enjoy cutiessss<333

*

After a long, grueling train ride, the team had finally made it to the city of Draseel, ready to search for the wood god dragon and take the next step in their mission.

Happy let out a long, obnoxious yawn. "I'm sleepy."

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired, too." Wendy admitted.

"I suppose it is late." Erza agreed. The team sorted out the nonsense with Erza and Erkis, got them switched back, and scolded Erza for being careless. That alone put them back another three hours.

"On the map it says there's a hotel right next to this station." Lucy looked up from the map.

"Alright, snoozing it is!" Natsu cheered. He was happy enough to be off the train, and now he got to rest on top of it.

The group got two rooms for the night, one for the boys and one for the girls. They quickly departed into their two rooms, ready to get some sleep and take on the next day.

Gray barely got a chance to breathe before Natsu and Happy were completely knocked out on their beds. They didn't bother to get under covers or anything, they were just out like a light.

"Why am I not surprised?" Gray sighed. He followed their lead and got ready for bed.

Gray flicked off his bedside light and turned over. After a few moments, he tossed over to the other side. Then onto his back. When a few slow minutes passed, he finally realized he wouldn't fall asleep right then. There was something that was picking at his mind, something he couldn't just easily sleep off.

He let out an exhale and turned his bedside table back on. He made sure not to wake up Natsu, as he didn't feel like dealing with his teasing. He carefully brought the lamp over to a desk that was in their room and quietly sat down. He rummaged through the drawers and to his luck he found just what he was looking for, a pencil and paper.

For awhile, he just stared at the blank paper. He even said "forget it" and tried to go back to bed, but he soon knew that wouldn't happen. So at the table he sat, head in his hands, thinking of how to put words from the pencil onto the paper.

Finally, he thought of something.

"Dear Juvia," He wrote at the top. Then, he hit another block. He was out of ideas once again.

"Ok, Gray, just chill out." He thought to himself. "Just write what's in your head." But that was just that--he didn't know how to translate his feelings into words.

To put it in the simplest words possible, he missed Juvia.

He didn't realize how much he did until he saw her doppelgänger and contemplated love, but he most certainly did. He wondered what she was doing, he thought about what he would be doing with her if they were together, he imagined their reunion when he got back to Fairy Tail, and actually thought fondly about how he would be showered with her love.

He couldn't seem to get her off his mind.

"Gah, this is so embarrassing." Gray thought and scratched the back of his head, his cheeks turning pink.

Again, another deep breath, and he brought the pencil back to the paper.

"Dear Juvia,

The mission is going well. I know you're probably worried sick, and you wish you could be fighting with me right now, but don't worry, I'm fine. The first dragon god on our quest was a water dragon god. Of course, I naturally thought of you." He paused. He went back and erased "thought of you" and wrote "thought of your magic." After a few moments of back and forth, he ultimately decided on "thought of you."

"He was crazy powerful. It made me wonder how your magic would've matched up against him. You're almost as scary as he is, so I'm sure you would've given him a run for his money." Gray smirked at his joke, and he began to think of all the times Juvia's magic had gotten scary strong when she was in a serious fight.

"But no worries, we beat him even though your water magic would've made it a hell of a lot easier. And actually, he's a really nice guy. His magic was thrown all out of whack by this wizard that can steal people's magic. We'll definitely have to take care of them eventually, but for now, we moved onto the wood dragon god in Draseel.

Before we got on the train today we ran into a guild of celebrities that look just like us. The whole thing was super bizarre. Your doppelgänger's name was Juvina, and she was a topless dancer. Hopefully that doesn't give you any ideas for a hobby, because I'll tell you right now, it ain't happening." Gray paused and smirked once again.

"But what really got me thinking was" Gray paused. He wasn't sure how to word all of this without exploding with embarrassment, but he tried his best.

"when we met this girl Ervis; she's an actress. Her next role focuses on love, so we kind of got to talking about that. I can't lie, you're the first person that popped in my head. From there, I couldn't get you off my mind, so I figured I'd write you a letter. It's not like it'll go unwanted. I'm sure you're gonna' eat all this up.

Basically, I just wanted to say" He paused. His hand began to shake a bit, and he took a deep breath.

"I miss you, and I'm excited to see you when we get back to Fairy Tail. Make sure you have your best hug and cheery 'Gray-sama' ready for me when I get back. Honestly, I'm going through withdrawal." Gray finally let go of his breath after he wrote that. Almost everything in him was telling him to go back and erase that bit, but after reading it over for the 30th time, he knew it felt right. It was pretty much exactly what he was thinking, and he knew he had to work on his way of expressing his feelings lately, and this seemed like a good step.

"So I hope all is well at Fairy Tail. I'm sure you're taking lots of missions with Gajeel, and I'm sure you're both kicking ass. I'd expect nothing less. Oh and make some of those Juvi-buns for me. They're pretty damn good.

Sincerely, Gray."

He looked the letter over and over and over. He went back to make little changes, but ended up changing them back. After he finally wore his eraser down to nothing, he decided it was good.

"Ooo is this a love letter?" Gray jumped at the sound of Happy hovering over his shoulder.

"Hey! I thought you were sleepin'!" Gray snatched the letter from the desk and held it close to him.

"I was sleeping. Now I'm awake. Just needed a little catnap." He said.

"Ok, well let's not wake up Natsu." Gray whispered.

"Why don't we wanna' wake up Natsu?" Gray jumped again, hearing Natsu talking over his other shoulder.

"Shit! Since when are you two ninjas?!" Gray held onto the letter tighter, catching his breath from two scares.

"Since when are you a writer?" Happy grilled, notioning towards the paper in his hand.

"I-I'm not!" Gray stood up. "I'm goin' to bed!"

"Is it a looove letter?" Happy teased.

"N-no! Don't be stupid!" Gray was focused on defending himself to Happy and he lost his grip on the paper. Natsu took the opportunity and snatched the letter out of his hand.

"Dear Juvia," Natsu began to read.

"Hey! Give that back!" Gray reached for it, and Natsu pulled away.

"So it is a love letter!" Happy giggled. "What else does it say, Natsu?"

Natsu began skimming the words to which Gray began chasing him around the room.

"Does this say what I think it says?" Natsu's voice boomed. "'I miss you'?!"

"Just give it back, ya' creep!"

"Ah, ah, ah," Natsu paused, and in his free hand he lit a flame, hovering the paper over it. Gray froze.

"One more move, and it goes up in flames." Natsu raised a brow. Gray said nothing. He stood promptly, but on edge.

Natsu continued skimming over the letter. "Juvi-buns?!" He bursted "I thought you thought they were weird?!" He cackled.

Gray folded his arms and looked to the side. "Yeah. They were tasty, alright?" He murmured.

Happy and Natsu exchanged looks and began rolling with laughter.

"What else Natsu?!" Happy said through laughter.

Gray took the opening and grabbed the letter out of Natsu's hand. "I think that's enough story time for tonight."

"We're just teasing, Gray!" Natsu said, still laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, well I'm goin' to bed." Gray practically stomped his way to bed and threw the letter into a random drawer before flopping onto the mattress.

"Hey man," The laughing finally stopped. Gray turned over and saw Natsu and Happy finally collected themselves. "In all seriousness, it's pretty cool that you wrote that."

"Aye!" Happy chimed in.

"Juvia deserves to hear that kinda' stuff. You better mail it out before we leave tomorrow." Natsu smiled at Gray and got back into bed.

"...Thanks." Gray reluctantly said and turned back over.

Once he heard Natsu and Happy snoring again, Gray sat up a bit. He carefully pulled the paper and pencil back out from the drawer. He decided there was one more change he needed to make.

He erased the "Sincerely, Gray." and replaced it with "Love, Gray."

He decided the letter was perfect, and finally rolled over to get a good night's sleep.

[keeroo92]

Hi (this is my first promp XD ) How about pregnant reader wakes up in the middle of the night with a craving and V sends Griffon to get it (love your writtings and plz forgive my english ^^ )

Thank you, what a cute idea! This is a little short, hope you enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

You woke from your slumber with a soft sigh, the taste of brine still tingling at your taste buds from a forgotten dream. The ache in your feet hadn’t subsided at all, let alone the ache in your lower back or your breasts. To top it off, you had to pee. Again.

You frowned and disentangled your swollen belly from V’s grasp, slipping from between the warm sheets and hissing as your toes hit the chilled wooden floor. The moonlight spilling through the open window was just barely enough for you to avoid stepping on Shadow’s tail where she dozed at the foot of the bed as you crossed to the bathroom.

The sense of relief you got from emptying your bladder was pure bliss, and you washed your hands with a soft smile. It still gave you a thrill to see your reflection like this, your body so changed by carrying V’s child.

Six months down, three to go. Then I get to meet you at last, little dewdrop.

As if to acknowledge your thoughts, you felt a sharp kick inside you. You put your palm over it and marveled at the sensation. The first kick had been only a few weeks ago, and the little one had been active ever since. You hadn’t settled on a name yet, but if you had a girl, Eva was a strong candidate. Boys’ names were harder, and as you headed to the kitchen, you tried yet again to think of something.

Charles? Nicholas? Lucas? Maybe William, or Blake? V might like that.

You smirked and opened the fridge, expecting to find the jar of pickles right where you left it.

The smile vanished as you found it gone.

I swear there was one left!

Crestfallen, you searched for a few minutes fruitlessly. You wanted to cry; you wanted a pickle so bad! Nothing else would do, there was no substitute for the delicious briny flavor. You huffed and returned to the bedroom.

V was exactly as you’d left him, snoring lightly. You hated doing this to him, especially considering he’d only just gotten back from a mission two days ago, but dammit you needed a pickle!

You sat beside him and sighed as your ankles screamed their relief at no longer carrying your weight. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you leaned over to whisper in your beloved poet’s ear.

“V?”

His eyes shot open immediately, already glittering in concern as he took in your worried expression. He blinked wearily but answered without complaint.

“What is it, love? Are you all right?”

You smiled tenderly at him and chewed the inside of your cheek. This all felt so silly, now that you were about to say it out loud. Still, the yearning gnawed at you like a starved wolf and you couldn’t ignore it.

“I want pickles and there aren’t any left.”

The concern faded into resignation and he sat up with a quiet sigh. He yawned and glanced at the alarm clack, which read 2:27 am. You cringed as you realized he’d have to cross town to find a store open this late.

“I’m sorry… I guess it can wait until morning,” you murmured. V reached out to cup your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Whatever you desire, I shall provide.”

He closed his eyes and after a moment, Griffon jolted awake with a sharp cry of surprise from his perch on the headboard.  He fluffed his feathers angrily and directed his beady gaze at his poetic host, glaring with every ounce of anger for the rude awakening. You almost bounced in excitement as you realized V’s plan.

“What the fuck, Shakespeare?”

“The lady requires pickles.”

Griffon shuffled his purple feet and tucked his beak back under his wing. “Sucks to be you.”

V sighed and rolled his eyes, sharing an amused glance with you before he answered the mouthy bird.

“What would it take for you to fetch them?”

Griffon started laughing, his loud chuckles echoing across the room to wake Shadow where she was curled up. The massive panther raised her head and huffed, then stood and jumped onto the bed to find out what the commotion was about. You were grateful the cat had the sense to morph into a smaller form before landing, or you would have been crushed. Now the size of a common house cat, she padded between V’s body and yours and sniffed at your face, purring softly until you reached out to pet her.

Throughout this, V kept his intense stare locked on Griffon, waiting for his mirth to fade into silence. Finally, the avian met his gaze,

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Indeed.”

Griffon sighed, looking to you for mercy. You stared back with a piteous expression, lower lip trembling and eyes wide, focused on how badly you wanted those damned pickles. The force of your craving brought tears to your eyes and you theatrically sniffled for added effect.

“Gah! Don’t look at me like that! I’ll do it, I’ll do it!”

Instantly, you shifted your features into a pleased grin and you paused your petting to stroke Griffon’s feathers and murmur your thanks.

“My wallet’s on the table, do try not to be seen…” V instructed the bird. Griffon lifted off and grasped the thin leather in his massive talons, hovering by the open window briefly.

“Do this, do that, Griffon can you babysit? I swear, you two forget I can spit lightning! Lightning! I ain’t no damned errand bird!”

V smirked in amusement as the annoyed demon flapped out the window, already lying back down. You joined him with a pleased hum as his hands went to rub at your lower back, easing the ache from carrying his child while you waited for Griffon’s return.

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 3 - Crescendo con Herzlich

Libelle Hall by George deValier

PART THREE Crescendo con Herzlich

.

The second Gilbert picked the lock and stepped through the front doors of Libelle Hall, he heard the music. And the second he heard the music, he knew he was not alone. "Little Austrian," he muttered under his breath - pretending to be surprised, pretending to be annoyed, pretending he had not expected to find this all along. But Gilbert never was a very convincing liar, even to himself. So he simply shrugged resignedly, took a swig from the glass bottle he'd cracked open two streets over, and followed the music.

The old foyer was lit faintly by floodlights from the demolition equipment outside, filtered through high, dusty windows, illuminating faded gold walls and frayed red carpet. The hall was deserted now - no sign remained of the protestors who had cried so very loudly for its salvation. Nothing except that intricate music, deep, full, and echoing through the eerie emptiness, drawing Gilbert deeper into Libelle Hall and towards the only person who actually seemed to give a damn for it.

He walked through the dim foyer and up a red staircase; through a large, golden, doorway into a wide, open hall where the air lightened and the music swelled. Down past aisles on aisles of red, musty-smelling chairs and then a few wooden steps onto the stage itself. Gilbert had never been in here before – after all, what was the point? He was only going to knock it down. But now, he couldn't help feeling a little awed as he stared up at the high, domed glass ceiling, the embellished balconies, the massive silver pipes lining the walls. Even in its decline, this place was magnificent.

The music now blasted down from directly above, shaking the very air, and Gilbert followed it to a narrow staircase behind the stage. He climbed it steadily, the old wooden steps creaking beneath his feet. He was pulled towards this, unable to turn back, but why? Why had he even come to this place, with nothing but a six-pack of beer and a vague sense of confused inevitability?

Because, his traitorous brain answered, you knew he'd be here. "I don't know what you're talking about," Gilbert muttered. He finished his beer, tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder, and reaching the top of the stairs, he stepped onto a small, balustraded balcony.

His heart did a somersault in his chest.

On one side, the balcony looked down on the stage below, and rows and rows of empty seats stretching dimly into the dusty light. On the other…

Roderich sat with his back to the hall, fingers flying over four rows of keys, feet tapping across a line of pedals, his entire body practically dancing with the massive sound he drew like magic from the old pipe organ. Gilbert nearly reached for the wall to hold himself steady. He felt his breath catch as he watched the Austrian play, and for a moment he almost thought the soft, gold light that filled the room was glowing from Roderich's beautiful face rather than the tall lamp which sat atop the keyboards.

After what might have been a few minutes, or might have been an hour, the air-shaking music finally drew to a close. Roderich still had not noticed Gilbert standing mere feet away. Heavy silence engulfed the hall, and Roderich slowly stilled, head bowed and hands resting on the keys.

"Holy shit!" Gilbert slammed his mouth shut, too late to stop the words echoing accusingly off the cavernous walls. Roderich gasped loudly and spun around, hand flying to his chest, face white and utterly stunned. Gilbert's blood roared to his head and he stammered, "I mean, fuck - I mean, gah - I mean…" Be cool! "S'up."

Roderich's astonished expression turned nervous. He glanced briefly at the exit. "How did you get in here?"

Gilbert answered too quickly. "The front door was open."

"No it wasn't."

"It was unlocked."

"No, it wasn't."

Gilbert let out a defeated breath. "Okay, fine. I busted the lock."

"Ah." Roderich did not sound surprised. "What do you want?"

"I..." Difficult question. Which he didn't exactly have an answer for, so he nodded up at the massive pipes instead. "They, uh… said it didn't work."

Roderich lifted one shoulder slightly. His wide eyes did not blink once. "Some of the keys are stuck, and a few of the stops refuse to move. You have to be gentle with it. It is a little broken, but it can still create something beautiful."

Something guilty and unpleasant crawled under Gilbert's skin. What was he doing here? Roderich obviously felt threatened by him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, and maybe Gilbert should leave. But maybe there was a reason he couldn't get this Austrian out of his head, and maybe this was the perfect time and place to find out why. Also, maybe he should give the guy a compliment or something. "It sounded fucking epic, dude."

"Thank you." Ever polite, even as he furrowed his perfectly groomed eyebrows.

"S'alright." Gilbert scuffed a foot against the ground awkwardly. "I can play 'Stairway' on the guitar."

Confused silence. "…oh?"

"Yep. Rock on." The silence grew uncomfortable. Not knowing what else to do, Gilbert held out what remained of the Köstritzer six-pack. "Want a beer?"

Roderich's eyes lowered to the beer, lifted back to Gilbert's own, then narrowed doubtfully. "Are you trying to mock me? Is that why you're here?"

"Please," Gilbert uttered sarcastically, dropping the beer back to his side. It wasn't like he was disappointed or anything. "I had no idea you'd even be here." Liar. 

"Ah." Roderich folded his arms haughtily, his expression smoothing in apparent understanding. "Of course. You are here to gloat over what you are about to destroy."

Gilbert made a colossal effort not to slam a hand against his forehead in sheer frustration. Why was Roderich making this so difficult? He might be pretty, but damn he could be daft. "We ain't knocking this place down just to piss you off, y'know." He tapped his foot against the ground, and it responded with a creak. "There are termites in the walls, the ceiling is too heavy, the floor is sinking with the soil. It's pretty, yeah, but it's dangerous. Like it or not, Libelle Hall is coming down, with or without my help. Now do you want a beer or not, because this shit's getting warm and I ain't drinking warm beer like a bloody Englishman."

At first, Roderich looked utterly devastated, and Gilbert was terrified he might burst into tears. Then his features twisted in fury, and for a mad second Gilbert worried he might attack him. But just like that, it was all gone, and instead Roderich breathed a deep, tired sigh as he stood slowly from the organ chair. "Yes, thank you. Yes, I would very much like a beer."

"Right then." Gilbert passed him a bottle then sat heavily on the faded timber floor behind the peeling balustrade. Roderich, however, glared at the dusty ground, and would not sit until Gilbert rolled his eyes and dusted it off with his sleeve.

"So, um." Roderich settled beside him, legs crossed and back straight, just close enough for Gilbert to catch a whiff of something suspiciously floral. Oh good Lord, the hippy even smelt like flowers. He took a small sip of beer then rested the bottle lightly against his crossed ankles. "Pretty, you said."

Gilbert instantly felt the blood drain from his face. "I did?"

Roderich tilted his head curiously. His eyes were piercingly violet in the lamplight, the warm glow casting gold highlights in his deep brown hair, and how had Gilbert never noticed the little beauty mark beneath his lips? "Do you really think so?"

Burning sweat rose to Gilbert's brow. Had he said something? Was he that obvious? Could Roderich read minds? Don't think of him naked!

Slightly puzzled, Roderich prompted, "You said it was pretty, but dangerous?"

The air left Gilbert's lungs in a mighty whoosh of relief. "The building."

"…Of course..."

"Of course." Gilbert took a rather desperate swig of beer. "It's nice enough. Don't see why you were willing to be crushed by hippies for it, though. It's just a concert hall."

Roderich stared at him coldly, before breathing a soft sigh and shaking his head. "It's not just a hall, though. It reminds me of someone..." He hesitated, unsure, and brushed his hair behind his ear. "Someone who was important to me."

Sometimes - just sometimes - Gilbert realised he'd been a bit of an asshole. "Shit, I'm sorry, man." How had he been so blind not to see Roderich was grieving? That's what this had been about, all along. "My parents died when I was twelve. If I'd've known…" But not knowing how to finish, he simply patted Roderich clumsily on the shoulder.

Roderich blinked at him, eyes wide in surprise. Then his face softened into a sad smile. "How could you have known? I'm sorry about your parents. Mine are in Vienna. They are professors, and they're horrible snobs, and I'm sorry I called you uneducated because I sound just like them and I hate it."

"S'okay," Gilbert shrugged. He could not even remember Roderich calling him uneducated, but whatever. "It's not like you're wrong, I mean, I didn't even finish high school. Ludwig, my brother, he's the smart one. But hey, at least I got the looks! I just got dirt on your shoulder, by the way."

Roderich's vaguely amused expression fell in horror and he brushed frantically at his shirt. "Oh my God, this is Dior..."

Gilbert bit his cheek to keep from snorting, and took a swig of beer to keep from thinking how sort of cute Roderich's reaction was. This was completely baffling. The way Roderich spoke, the way he moved, the things he said – it should all annoy Gilbert, disgust him, infuriate him. Instead, Gilbert was fascinated. "Is that how you ended up in Canada? Fleeing the snobby parents?"

When Roderich seemed satisfied his stupid shirt was not completely ruined (and what the hell was a Dior, anyway?) he shrugged in response. "That's it, basically. They only cared for the fame I could bring them. Trotting me out at every Austrian concert hall and Viennese social event like some sort of performing monkey. My only escape from the whole vulgar charade was to visit my Aunt Maria, here in Canada." Then Roderich smiled again, looking out over the hall, and Gilbert's hand tightened on his beer bottle. "She loved music. But she really loved it – none of that false posturing of my ridiculous parents. She gave me hundreds of music books and let me play what I liked - even Mahler, who my parents simply detested."

Roderich's face practically glowed at the memory, and he visibly relaxed, his shoulders loosening. Once he started speaking, the words flowed easily, like he had been waiting a long time to say this. "Aunt Maria was the patroness of this place. She brought me here for years, ever since I was small - to watch the concerts and operas, to meet the musicians, to play the pipe organ. This was where music became a joy for me, not a duty. I used to pretend I was the Phantom of the Opera, and I could live in this hall forever, and no one would ever find me and make me return to Vienna. When I turned sixteen I moved to live with her… but she died only a few months later." Roderich swallowed heavily, that smile and that glow and that memory fading. "So now this place is all I have left of her. And tomorrow…" He shook his head, as though still unable to believe it. "Tomorrow it will all be gone."

Another cold stab of pervasive guilt sat wedged in Gilbert's ribs. He'd never imagined that Roderich's connection to this place was so personal, so important. He wanted to say something, anything, to apologise or reassure or show he understood. "That sucks, dude." Shit.

But Roderich just nodded. "Yes. It does, rather."

"Do you think you'll move back to Vienna?" Not that he cared… Liar.

"I'm at university now. After that, maybe. I've been offered a number of performance contracts, so we'll see, I suppose."

Gilbert whistled. "Performance contracts, at your age?"

"I am eighteen." Roderich sniffed haughtily and straightened his back in an almost painful looking gesture of superiority. "I signed my first contract at six."

"Huh. Well I'm twenty-three and the last thing I signed was Antonio's butt when he passed out on New Year's."

Roderich's eyes widened and his lips parted in a tiny gasp of surprise. Then, looking almost surprised at his reaction, his entire body relaxed, and he laughed. Gilbert's spine tingled at the sound. And he wondered if maybe he had made the right decision coming here tonight, after all.

.

Another hour, two more beers, and Gilbert felt completely at ease. Which was really weird, actually, because he never felt at ease. Roderich sat with his back against the balcony balustrade, cravat loosened slightly and one leg crossed over the other; Gilbert leant back on his hands, feet sticking through the spaced wooden beams and dangling over the two-story drop. They'd spoken briefly of music (Roderich had at least heard of Rammstein, which was much more than Gilbert had given him credit for), tentatively on politics (Roderich really was a bloody hippy, no surprise there), and now Gilbert was just drunk enough to ask the thing he really, really wanted to know. "So. What's your boyfriend like?"

Roderich almost choked on his beer, his hand flying to cover his mouth. "My boyfriend?"

"Let me guess – eight feet tall with arms like barrels; does pull-ups with his teeth; fights bears in his spare time."

Roderich's lip twitched, though Gilbert couldn't tell if he was confused, amused, or furious. "What?!"

Gilbert lifted a hand in a silencing gesture. He didn't even know if he was teasing at this point, or hoping to put his own mind at ease. "Wait, no – a middle-aged property millionaire, flies you to Prague for the weekends and keeps a riding crop in his briefcase."

Roderich hand dropped to his chest, faintly alarmed. "Good Lord. I'm not sure where to start. Um… what makes you think I have a boyfriend?"

"Of course you have a boyfriend. Look at you, you look like you've just stepped off the pages of GQ magazine." Gilbert hurried to add, in case Roderich thought he actually read that metrosexual crap, "Francis has a subscription."

Gilbert was growing very familiar with that interesting shade of pink tingeing Roderich's cheeks. "I… don't know if you're complimenting or mocking me."

At first Gilbert could not fathom how Roderich could be so oblivious to how he looked, but then he remembered that Roderich thought skinny jeans and a cravat were the height of fashion. "Just stating a fact, Roddy."

"Well… thank you, I suppose." Roderich blinked dazedly a few times. "But I don't have a boyfriend."

He damn well better not have. Gilbert was almost embarrassedly relieved.

"Actually…" Roderich briefly caught his lower lip between his teeth before adding uncertainly, "I've never had one."

Gilbert's eyes flew wide, and the bottle in his hand felt dangerously close to cracking. Now the relief was tinged with something hot, something like possessiveness, because if Roderich had never had a boyfriend, then... Gilbert's lungs filled with air, his blood started to burn, his head was hazy…

"The closest I've had is Elizaveta."

The words hit Gilbert like cold water. He knew there was a reason he'd immediately disliked that she-devil. He took a swig of beer. "The guard dog, huh?"

Roderich ignored the jab. "She's no property millionaire, however, though I believe she does own a riding crop. And she only fights bears in arm-wrestle competitions at that leather club, The Bear Cave." Roderich nonchalantly sipped of beer. "I've never been, myself."

"Me neither," Gilbert lied, shuddering. He now had no doubt that Elizaveta could deliver on her threats of hair-pulling and ass-kicking.

"It hardly counts, though. We went on one date. She opened doors for me all night. It was a bit confusing."

Gilbert snickered. He hadn't expected how easy it would be to actually talk to Roderich. Not that he had that much experience in actual conversation. With his workmates there was always the sense he was playing the role of someone else; and always the fear they would find out. There was Francis and Antonio, of course, and he loved them to death, but they probably spent more time arguing than anything. And he and Ludwig spotted each other at the gym regularly, but they didn't actually speak that much - which had nothing to do with jealousy, but really, how the hell could his fifteen year old brother lift more than him, anyway?

No, in a way this was more careful than that; and at the same time, it was more honest. And if he kept getting distracted by the white curve of Roderich's neck or the lamplight glinting in his hair, well, Gilbert was only human after all. It didn't mean the pretty Austrian wasn't still a snobby, deluded…

"What is your boyfriend like?"

The question smashed like a hammer through Gilbert's thoughts. "Hey, hey now," he spluttered, sitting up straight and holding a hand out in protestation. "That's a bit presumptuous."

Roderich almost laughed. "You asked me first!" he replied, far too reasonably.

"Yeah, but you're obvious."

Roderich just stared for a moment. "Do you even realise when you're being offensive?"

"I find someone will usually let me know."

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Gilbert."

"Yeah?"

"I'm letting you know."

"It wasn't an insult!" Gilbert protested. "I just mean you're, y'know... pretty. Arty looking. Roddy, seriously, you're wearing a cravat. Now, look at me." Gilbert gestured over himself. "Sensible haircut, stain on my shirt, my socks don't match. Why would you possibly think that I was…" He broke off, loudly cleared his throat, and attempted an offhanded shrug. "You know."

Roderich folded his arms, obviously not about to let Gilbert off that easily. "I do?"

"Like that."

"Like what?"

Gilbert swallowed dryly, glanced around as though someone might be listening, then leant forward slightly. "That I was…" But he could not say the word. "Why would you think I liked guys?" he finally spat, as though the words might burn him.

Roderich looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Putting aside the fact that you cannot conclusively prove one's sexuality from their appearance…"

"I dunno, Roddy, that cravat's sayin' a lot…"

Roderich ignored him. "There is the little fact that you were in a gay bar last night."

"Oh, that!" Gilbert laughed loudly, too loudly, and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. Unfortunately he knocked over his beer. Then he sent it skidding across the ground when he tried to retrieve it. Then it flew under the balustrade, over the balcony, and after a tense, silent, horrific second that felt like an hour, it shattered spectacularly on the stage below.

Silence. Gilbert couldn't move. He daren't breathe. And oh shit, his face really better not be as red as it felt. "Um," he said finally, drawing himself into an upright seated position and clasping his hands together in a desperate attempt to claw back some measure of dignity. "I don't know what you're talking about."

And there was that raised eyebrow again.

Gilbert finally deflated, and an old, familiar dread grew steadily beneath his skin. He'd never admitted it. Oh, he'd gone home with plenty of pretty boys; he'd had a crush on David Bowie since he was five; he'd once worn nothing but leather boots and a rainbow flag in a Pride parade float manned by Eastern European drag queens. But he'd never admitted it. And as his heart beat uncomfortably, and cold, stinging sweat rose to his neck, he wasn't sure he could.

"What does that tattoo mean? The one on your arm?"

Roderich's voice was deceptively casual, and through the rising panic, Gilbert realised that he was changing the subject. Which was far more polite, kind, and bloody decent than Gilbert deserved. Gilbert took a moment to breathe out the irrational fear; then, like always, he pretended nothing had happened.

"This is nothing." Gilbert flexed his bicep and ran a hand over the intricate black pattern. "Woke up in a gutter the morning after Francis' twenty-first, and there it was."

"Gosh," said Roderich, staring at Gilbert's arm intently. "I do hope you were tested for hepatitis."

Gilbert paused. "I've… never had that reaction to that story. But hey, if you wanna see one that does mean something…" Gilbert twisted so his back was to Roderich, and lifted his shirt to his neck.

Gilbert had searched years for the right artist to ink his back, finally finding a hot Belarusian chick who was awesomely talented, if not slightly psychotic. It had taken weeks, and cost a fortune, but it was worth it all. The massive black eagle that spread across his back and shoulders signified his past, his blood; his passion and his pride. It was part of who he was. Gilbert knew it was impressive, and judging by Roderich's sharp intake of breath, he thought so too. So maybe Gilbert flexed his shoulders slightly more than was strictly necessary - he might not be ready to admit anything, but he didn't go to the gym for nothing.

Gilbert turned back slowly, a smug grin on his face, and took the opportunity to sit just the slightest bit closer. "Yep," he boasted, giving a nonchalant shrug as he cracked his knuckles. "I work out."

Roderich's face was red, lips set in a hard line, hands clenched on his knees. Gilbert couldn't tell if he was trying not to laugh, or overcome with lust. Probably the latter.

"Don't try to deny it, Roddy, you know how smoking hot this body is."

That did it. Roderich's lips turned upwards, and he turned away to hide a brief laughing fit behind his hand. Gilbert wasn't sure what was the bigger revelation: that he was not offended, or that he'd actually been trying to make Roderich laugh the entire time. The sound made his whole body light and warm and he was filled with stupid pride that he was the cause of it.

"Anyway," said Roderich finally, concealing the last of his laughter with a cough."The Prussian Eagle. It's an amazing tattoo. Why…" He hesitated briefly. "Why do you call yourself Prussian?"

Gilbert grin fell when he remembered Roderich's reaction in the bar last night. "Are you gonna tell me it's a 'militaristic model of fascism' again?"

Roderich had the good grace to look slightly apologetic. "No. I am genuinely interested, Gilbert. Tell me, please."

Damn, Roderich did look pretty when he said 'please' like that. Gilbert swallowed heavily and dragged his brain back from that very dangerous line of thinking. "All right, it's like this. First of all, Prussia is tough. It built itself from nothing into a place strong enough to unify an Empire and survive three hundred years of relentless attack. And it's misunderstood. People see it for its wrongs, and ignore everything else. They judge it without knowing it. They hate it without understanding it. And I guess I just get that, you know?"

Roderich's face softened and he nodded. "Yes. I get that." But of course he got that. Roderich knew exactly what it was to be judged, every single day, and Gilbert was an idiot for not seeing how alike he and this Austrian musician actually were. Gilbert protected himself with arrogance, with violence, with denial; Roderich covered himself with a layer of defiant superiority. But in the end, they were both hiding the same thing.

And maybe Gilbert was done hiding.

He leant forward slightly, until both he and Roderich were sitting sideways against the balustrade, cross-legged and facing each other. "One more thing about Prussia," said Gilbert quietly.

Roderich leant closer to listen, head tilted curiously and his hands clasped in his lap. Whenever the man moved, he did it so damned gracefully. Another wave of lilac made Gilbert's head swim.

"Friedrich." Gilbert pounded a fist to his chest proudly. "Friedrich's my bro."

"Friedrich the Great?" Roderich asked, forehead furrowing tentatively.

"Yeah." Gilbert's blood was throbbing in his veins, and it felt like the words he whispered were engulfing the silent hall. But he'd made up his mind. And though he'd never told this to anyone, there would never be a better time to say it, or a more understanding person to hear it. "Whenever people say shit… insulting shit, y'know, about being…" He faltered, but forced himself to stay strong. "About being gay. It hurts. Because I know – deep inside, I've always known – that they're talking about me."

Roderich's eyes went very wide, and he stayed very still, but he did not speak. Gilbert's skin was burning, and he'd never felt so vulnerable in his life. But he would say this. He had to say this.

"Then, I think of Friedrich. Prussia's greatest king. The most badass military leader of all time. A man who moved a nation from a time of darkness into a time of light. A man with vision, and influence, and passion, who had the power to change the face of Europe." Gilbert paused, but only briefly, because if he thought too deeply, he knew he would stop speaking. "A man who, just like me, was gay. I think of Friedrich, and I ask myself why I should possibly be ashamed to have something in common with one of the greatest men in history."

Gilbert was immediately sure he'd said too much. "Shit, that was lame, I..."

Roderich quickly interrupted. "For me it was Tchaikovsky."

Gilbert's heart stuttered wildly. For the first time in his entire life, it felt like someone understood him. And his mouth was still open in surprise, and Roderich was staring rather uncertainly at his hands, and say something, damn it! "Plus, when I was a kid, I liked the idea of being a Prussian knight in shining armour."

"Oh, gosh." Roderich breathed a soft, faintly amazed laugh. "I think we would have played well together."

Gilbert smirked and lightly nudged Roderich's knee. "Never would have taken you for a fellow knight, Roddy!"

"No, I just…" Roderich awkwardly brushed back his fringe, before finishing in a mumble, "… rather liked the idea of being rescued by one." He closed his eyes and whispered, "Now that was lame."

"No, that was adorable."

Roderich's violet eyes met his, and Gilbert forgot to be mortified that he'd actually said the word adorable out loud. This went beyond anything he had ever felt. It was like his heart was going to burst. And Roderich was so close, with his perfect hair in his perfect eyes, and his skin like moonlight, and his stupid, stupid cravat, and oh God, Francis and Antonio were right, he wasn't pretty, he was gorgeous…

"Gilbert."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

"I…" may as well stop lying. "I knew you'd be here."

Roderich reached for Gilbert's hand, and smiled like he'd guessed that already.

.

Gilbert woke slowly to the sensation of his phone buzzing silently in his pocket, and Roderich asleep against him. He took a moment to marvel at just how nice it felt - warm and comfortable, like everything was right with the world - then carefully retrieved his phone so as not to disturb Roderich's rest.

There were twenty-three missed calls from his coworkers, and a massive stack of messages. Gilbert's confusion to how he'd missed them turned quickly to alarm, a cold dread settling in his gut as he scanned the texts with increasing panic.

Gil, ring back. Can't reach you. Have important news about the Libelle Hall job. 

Gil, dude, the demolition time's been rescheduled. Answer your phone.

Gilbert for fucks sake answer your phone!

Demo going ahead at 6am. You'd better be there or there'll be shit.

Gilbert looked at his phone, looked at the early morning light entering the windows, and looked at his watch.

Six a.m.

"Well, shit."

Then an excavator claw shattered the ceiling.

.

Roderich's body jolted him awake, and he instantly fumbled for his glasses. "What…"

He barely registered the crashing sound before Gilbert's hand gripped his and hauled him to his feet. "RUN!"

Later, Roderich would not recall exactly how they emerged unscathed from the rapid destruction of Libelle Hall. He scarcely felt his legs move as Gilbert dragged him down the narrow staircase, the deafening sound of smashing wood and breaking windows shattering the air. The floor shook like an earthquake beneath his feet, and the only reason Roderich was not terrified was that he was just so very confused.

"What on Earth is going on?" He shouted to be heard.

"What do you think?" Gilbert yelled back. "They're flooring the place. Just keep running!"

Finally, the fear kicked in. As they darted across the stage, a massive piece of ceiling crashed through a balcony, instantly flattening a row of seats. Roderich's head swam sickeningly and his blood roared in his ears. No one knew they were in here... How were they going to get out... What if...

But Gilbert's hand was in his. Gilbert's hand was in his, and it filled Roderich with an inexplicable, infuriating sense that everything would be all right.

Reaching the end of the stage, Gilbert pulled Roderich through the side door, into a narrow corridor filled with overflowing boxes and strong-smelling costumes, then stopped at a red-draped window. Roderich's head snapped into focus, and his heart dropped to his feet. "No."

"Listen!" Gilbert placed a hand on Roderich's chest, his fierce red eyes burning into Roderich's own. "We're only one story up. There's no time to find a door."

Roderich shook his head firmly, even as Gilbert's hand burnt his skin, even as the entire building shook with the force of falling balconies and shattering walls. In his panic, he reverted to superiority. "How dare you? I refuse to..."

Gilbert abruptly turned around, headed back up the corridor, and Roderich's entire body jolted frozen in shock. Gilbert was leaving – why was he leaving – oh God, how could Gilbert leave him?! Roderich couldn't breathe, and his mind wouldn't work, and he was going to panic, and… and why was Gilbert digging through that box of props?

"What… what are you doing?"

"Fair Roderich." Gilbert finally turned, placing a flimsy knight's helmet on his head, and brandishing… oh, for heaven's sake… brandishing a plastic sword. Roderich's fear vanished in a haze of utter bemusement.

"...huh?"

Gilbert stood tall, one hand on his hip and a rather manic grin plastered on his face. "My name is Sir Gilbert the Awesome, and I am here to rescue you!"

Roderich stared. Gilbert stared back. A massive crash rattled the window. "Are you insane?!"

Gilbert lifted his hand into the air, throwing back his shoulders and raising his chin, looking for all the world like a Shakespearean actor about to deliver a speech. "You are startled, Fair Roderich, but never fear! It is my sworn duty to protect you!"

"Oh my goodness you're insane..." Roderich shook his head, trying to make sense of this, and he was not amused, and he was not laughing, blast it all!

Another crash. This time the floor shifted beneath them and Roderich had to grip the windowsill to keep from falling. There was the fear again… "Gilbert! This place is falling apart and you are standing there in a knight's costume!"

Gilbert nodded and tossed the sword over his shoulder. "Better head through that window then."

He had a point. He was insane, but he had a point. "You go first."

Gilbert rushed to Roderich's side and threw open the window shutters. They were perhaps four metres above a colourful flower garden, leading onto a large green lawn bordered by far, well-tended hedges. "What sort of knight would I be to abandon my fair da…"

"If you call me a damsel, I swear Gilbert, I will hurl you through this window myself."

"…dapper young gentleman," Gilbert finished smoothly. "Now what we are going to do, is climb through the window-frame, then I shall hoist your delicate frame atop my mighty shoulder…"

"Gilbert!"

"Okay, okay, then we jump, and hope that flowerbed cushions our fall. Are you ready?"

"No."

"Good, let's go."

The next few seconds were a blur. Roderich vaguely recalled trying to cling to Gilbert's hand as he clambered over the windowsill; his blood pounding dizzyingly to his head; Gilbert flashing him a grin like this was nothing more than an afternoon stroll. They were on the ground before Roderich even made the decision to jump. His arm stung where a branch scratched it, and his lungs screamed for air, but Roderich barely had time to even feel relieved.

"Now get up. Run!" Gilbert grabbed his arm and they ran, as fast as Roderich's aching chest would allow, as far as they could across the vast, open lawn until they finally collapsed, breathless and exhausted, against a low, green hedge surrounded by an orange construction barrier.

Roderich wasn't sure he could think, or feel, or breathe. He was vaguely aware that his shirt sleeve was ripped, and his hair was awful, but he'd just jumped out a window so those were probably trivial matters right now. The world slowly turned right side up, and he was brought back to his senses by the feel of the bush digging into his back and the sound of Gilbert's voice beside him.

"Shit," Gilbert muttered between gulps of air. "I think I might be fired."

And Roderich couldn't help it. He laughed. He laughed until the tension beneath his skin lessened, until it broke, until it drained away and he was suddenly aware of nothing else but Gilbert's shoulder pressed to his, and the realisation that he was laughing, too.

Gilbert reached for Roderich's collar. "Allow me, Fair Roderich, your cravat's all loose…"

Roderich rolled his eyes. The man had a serious obsession with his choice of neckwear. "And you are still wearing that ridiculous hat!"

Gilbert grinned and adjusted it. "I think it suits me."

No had had ever made Roderich laugh the way this mad Prussian did. "Sir Gilbert the Awesome."

"Yeah, baby. Your knight in shining armour."

Roderich had to fight not to cover his face, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Oh, if Elizaveta ever heard about this...

"But seriously…" Gilbert's eyes softened, and he reached up to pluck a stray leaf from Roderich's hair. "You all right?"

Roderich felt the heat from Gilbert's touch tingle across his scalp and down his spine. "Yes."

A tremor in the ground, a startling bang, and as he turned his head, the last of Roderich's laughter died away. "Actually… no." Because there was his beautiful Libelle Hall crumbling in the distance, lines of smoke silhouetted against the grey morning sky. Harsh machinery surrounded the golden building, smashed it to pieces, reduced Roderich's memory and joy to rubble and dust.

"Well," Roderich whispered. He let out a long breath, a bitter ache tightening his throat. His glasses fogged as his eyes began to sting. "I suppose that's it."

Gilbert moved as though to speak, then stopped, at a loss. Instead he slowly removed his hat, then he took something from his pocket and pressed it into Roderich's hand. A short black peg, attached to a little white disc, with a single word - clarabella - stamped across the flat top. One of the pipe organ stops. Gilbert must have ripped it from the instrument itself.

It was the final proof of how very wrong Roderich was in ever thinking Gilbert understood nothing. That one gesture – that one organ stop – and Roderich felt the breath knocked from him. As his pounding heart finally started to settle, he looked up slowly. Gilbert's white hair stood up in wild peaks, and his startling eyes were not nearly so harsh this close – just very bright, and very deep, and staring at Roderich like this was the first time Gilbert had ever seen him.

And Roderich could not stop himself. He leant forward and kissed him.

For a second, Gilbert sat frozen, his lips motionless. Roderich panicked. He didn't know what he was doing, he'd made a mistake, he'd never actually kissed someone, and how was one actually supposed to do this?! But then Gilbert kissed back, and Roderich might have made an embarrassing sort of squeak of surprise, but that very quickly did not matter much. In fact nothing – not Libelle Hall, not its demolition, not Gilbert's ego or Roderich's superiority or either of their stupid stubbornness – none of it mattered now. Nothing except for Gilbert's lips moving on his, strong and soft, parting his lips, touching his tongue, and oh, that was how one was supposed to do this…

When their lips parted, Roderich was practically shaking, and Gilbert looked almost as stunned as Roderich felt. Roderich hesitated just long enough for an inkling of doubt to set in, but it vanished the second Gilbert squeezed his hand. "Hey, here's something awesome. The dragonfly - the Libelle - is a symbol of new beginnings, did you know?"

Gilbert grinned proudly, and Roderich shook his head in surprise, an impressed smile tugging on his lips. Libelle. Dragonfly. It was what Aunt Maria had used to call him. "How do you know a thing like that?"

Gilbert just winked one brilliant red eye. "You'll be amazed by the things I know, baby."

Before Roderich could laugh, or scoff, or even think how to respond, Gilbert's arm encircled his waist and pulled him back into the kiss. It should have been astonishing. Instead it just felt natural, and right, like they had been leading to this moment all along. Roderich placed a hand on Gilbert's chest, felt his heavy heartbeat joining with his own; and when Gilbert's fingers threaded gently into his hair, Roderich thought that there had never been a place he belonged as much as this.

Libelle Hall was being destroyed before them. But between them, something honest, and scary, and wonderful, was being created.

The End.

.

Of Ponies and Edelweiss

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[eerythingisshaka]

The Coffee Prince Pt. 2

(T’Challa x Reader)

*Part 1*

Word Count: 3k

Plot:  Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

*Previously*

You are unphased and not listening when you get up and see this 6’0 man picking up his drink and turning towards you.  He makes his way to the side table, and your heart literally stops pumping for a split second from the anxiety.  He hasn’t seen you yet and he could easily leave very soon without your acknowledgment,  What if he doesn’t recognize you?  The L’s you could take outweigh the dubs by a mile.

You get up to go get an unnecessary sugar packet.

“Excuse me,” you say.

He looks to you and gives you a crooked smile.

“Ahh, how are you today, Ms. Macchiato.” He says while stirring his coffee.

You spontaneously start ovulating at his title for you.  He remembered your order, and made it a pet name for you!

You smile goofily as your heart threatens to fall out of your chest, “Yeah, that’s me!  How have you been….Thomas?”  Your voice rises an octave as you coyly played like you couldn’t remember one of the few things tied to him from your one engagement.

He furrows his brow at your statement.  “Ohh, you must have me confused with some other American coffee drinker.”

“Oh?  So that accent makes you from where, Boston?”

You both laugh.  Your mouth is getting dry from anxiety, so you sip your drink.  

“Gah! Fuck!”  You sputter some of the liquid down your chin, tongue hanging out fanning it.  The drink was scalding hot still.  

‘Thomas’ gets a napkin and hands it to you, concern clouds his face.

“Are you all right?  Should I go get you some water or…”

Heated with embarrassment noe more than the coffee, you shake your head trying to speak clearly.  “It’th fine, thankth.”  You say with a scalded tongue.

“Please, sit a moment.  I’ll be right back.”  He touches your arm to guide you back to a table and makes his way to the register.  You keep fanning yourself, mortified by your not so graceful behavior.

“Ok, come on, get your thit together.  You are a queen goddeth.  Anyone would be lucky to dick you down proper.”

You take a deep breath and look off to one side and see an old white woman shaking her head looking at you.  Of course that last sentence would come out clear as a bell, but you gave her a look of ‘and?’ while she continued eating her oatmeal.

‘Thomas’ comes back with cold Fiji water, cracking it open before handing it to you.

You take it in you hand with shock clearly displayed cross your face, ‘Thomas’ sits down across from you and notices your expression immediately.

“Is something wrong with it?  Is something in it?”  He leans to look at the bottle clutched in the hand.

Why did he have to be so cute when he scrunches his face with worry?  You snap out of it and try to relax again.  “No, it’th juth uh, you know they have free water cupth, right?  Like, you didn’t have to pay for one”

He waves his hand in protest, “It’s nothing.  I mean, you don’t need lukewarm tap water, this is better for you.”

You say before taking a sip, “Well that was very thweet of you.  I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about that.  I can’t standby while you’re in pain.  Though, the temporary speech impediment is kind of cute, I must say.”

“What do you mean?  Thith ith my real voice.  I wath juth trying to impreth you with perfect diction last time.”  You say, blowing your coffee, batting your eyes.

He chuckles, “Right, and I’m from Boston.”

You smile and look out the window for a second.  The high you feel from being in his company makes it hard to come back down to the reality that you have to make conversation, and you’re suddenly lost for words.  You want to know more about him but don’t want to come off as nosy or interrogative, or too eager, though you could smile at him giddily all damn day  But this is a cute guy, who is clearly attentive, splurging on some fresh H2O.  Ask him something!  Get some personal shit out the way!

You face him to see his round, gorgeous eyes looking at you.  You can’t read his expression before he looks down at his coffee again.

“What is your name, by chance?  I don’t think I got it before.” he asks before puckering his lips, that look like they’ve never known ash, to take a sip.

“Oh, it’s (Y/N)” you say.

“Ah, (Y/N) that’s a beautiful name.  It doesn’t seem too difficult to me.”

You practically melt at him saying your name.  You’d never want a different one long as those lips spoke it.

“Well, it shouldn’t be.  But people sense something has more than 2 syllables and their mind just flips.”

“Does it have any meaning behind it?”

“Mmm, not that I know.  I’d have to Google.  But all I know is my mom just liked it.  But what about you, ‘Thomas’?”  You say with a goofy grin, resting your chin on your hand.

“Yes, my name is T’Challa.”

“T….Challa?”

“Yes, that’s right! First try!”  He holds his hand up for a high five.

The world seems to go into slow motion when connecting your palm to his.  His hand is a skyscraper compared to yours, trying to memorize the feel of his hand through the little contact you had.

“What can I say, I’m a pro!”

“Very nice.  Impaired tongue and all!”  He pauses a moment before continuing, “Have you got time for a walk around to get some air?  It’s so beautiful outside.  May be nice…”

You look at your phone and see you should've been back at your desk 15 min ago.  

“Uh… actually I do need to go…”

“Bast! Well that’s ok. Maybe our paths can cross again in the future?”

Your face fallen, “Yeah, hopefully so.  Thanks again for the water…”

You start to get up and leave, “Ah, Miss (Y/N)?”

You turn to him, “Mhm?”

“Do you think I could call you sometime?  If it’s not too forward, we could arrange meeting outside of your work hours so it’s more convenient?”

You heart jumped into your throat at the proposal.  He’s asking for your number!  

“Sure thing!  I would love that.  Just let me know or I’ll call you whichever.  Cool!”

You back up to leave before you add anymore positive phrases to your long phrase affirming his invitation.

You step out the door of the shop and do a little Tiffany Haddish ‘she ready’ dance.  You couldn’t wait to fill Tavia in on the details.  T’Challa, T’Challa, the name just rolls off the tongue.

“Miss (Y/N)!  I thought you trying to dine and dash but …”

T’Challa was standing behind you for God knows how long, struggling to hold back his smile.

You straighten up, mortified.  Could he possibly be any more handsome and you be anymore a dork?

“Oh, no.  Um, what do you mean?”  you stammer, folding your arms to look semi-normal.

He pulls out his phone.  “We actually need each others numbers to call each other right?”

You still didn’t exchange numbers!  Thinking of how much of a mess you are you say, “Yeah, sorry!  Of course, allow me.”

You take his phone and type it in with your name saving it.

Handing it back, T’Challa takes it and puts it in his pocket, eyes never leaving your face as he gives you a closed mouth smile.

“You have a good rest of your day, (Y/N).  I look forward to connecting with you soon.”

He turns and strides down the sidewalk away.  As much as you hated to see him go, you loved watching him leave.  Was the dip in his gait put on or natural?  Either way, you loved it.

Later that day you go home, light as a feather.   You lowkey hate how some male attention could give you such an array of hormonal bliss that you felt like a traitor to the sisterhood.

Your roommate hadn’t gotten home yet so, you take the time to cook yourself some food, even though your hunger was honestly minimal.  Whenever you got really excited in any emotional direction, your appetite just goes south.  But you earned a meal today, so why not celebrate with dinner.  You look up a bookmarked recipe on your phone for some baked chicken with steamed vegetables and curl up to some Grown-ish as you work.  The episode with Yara Shahidi’s character obsessing over the relationship status of her and Cash was queued up.  Seeing her send literally 30 text messages to Cash saying an unintelligible number of things made you cringe hella heavy.  Why would she get caught up with a college athlete anyway?  You knew where this episode was going, as you turn back to seasoning your food.

While binge watching, you only eat about half of your food, which is better than nothing.  You have more energy than you know what to do with though, so with the extra living room space, you decide to knock out a little yoga to center yourself.   Laying out your mat and queueing up YouTube you switch to a yoga channel for beginners and put a chill playlist on shuffle.  You close your eyes as the instructor tells you to be present in today’s practice, breathing deeply and exhaling equally.  The practice started off simple enough with some cat-cows and downward dogs, but the intensity picked up soon once some planks and chair poses were thrown in.  You perspired like a Pinocchio meeting a woodpecker but pushed through each pose with a little motivation in your head.  If T’Challa could see me now.  Each challenge you faced, you thought of him being under you while you planked, over you while you did a bridge.  Once the poses were over you’d curse yourself for being so silly but hey, it worked.

During the cool down, the instructor tells you to get into happy baby pose, which you welcome with a deep sigh, wiping your brow.  You didn’t expect such an intense workout, so luckily you didn’t go ham on your food.

You hear the lock turn on the door, and in walks in Tavia.

“Well damn, bitch, am I interrupting something?!”

You look between your legs at Tavia, “Nah girl, I’m almost done.”

“You sure?  Cuz looks like you just getting started to me.  Why are you spreading your legs for anyone who walk in here?”

You roll out of your pose, grabbing your water. “Nothing, it’s been a minute since I got my mat out so…”  you say taking a sip.

Tavia takes a seat in a easy chair across from you, taking off her shoes.  “Mmhm, so what else is it bitch, cuz the fact that you ain’t posted up here smashing some cookies, watching Chocolate City or some other trash got me almost concerned.”  She says, faking her best concerned face.

You roll your eyes,  “It’s nothin!  Really, but I mean, I may have ran into someone today, but that’s not why I’m over here ‘pussy poppin’’ like you say.”

“Uh-uh.  How juicy is this?  I was drinking tonight anyway but lemme know should I grab my bottle right now?”

You look at her sideways and give a slight nod.

Tava screams like the Holy Spirit just caught her as she runs with her hands raised over to the fridge.  She gets out her moscato and runs back to her seat.  

“Uh, I don’t get a glass?”  You ask offended.

“No ma’am, you got talking to do.  You can’t talk and drink at the same time.” Tavia says with a tongue pop.

“ANYWAY, so I’m going to the coffee shop on my break, right?” You say excitedly.

“Right, ‘break’.” Tavia says clutching the bottle while doing air quotes.

“Listen, plenty of them folks go and do whatever on company time.  I need some caffeine to get through the mess.” You say defensively.

“Whatever, continue!”

“Ok, so I’m getting my shit, and just as I’m bout to leave, HIS order gets called.”

“Who??!”

“Thomas!”

Tavia’s body melts into the chair as she exclaims, “Whaaaaa??”

“YES! By the way, his name is T’Challa.”

“BITCH, you talked to him??”

With a little dance you confirm, “Hell yeah, fucking right!”

Tavia gets up to do a quick celebration twerk with you, passing the bottle. “Go head girl!  Ok, so how did you go up to him?  What did he say?”

Your face hurt from all the cheesing, “I just walked past him and he was like, ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’  and I said, ‘I hope so, cuz trying to know you.’  And eventually he remembered, so we got a table and talked about real surface level stuff, then I told him I gotta go back to work, so he was all ‘Well, I can’t have you walk out here without seeing you again.  Put your number in.’ So I did, and that’s really about it.”  You say content with your ‘story’.

Tavia was on the edge of her chair during your entire explanation until she said, “You gave him your number?”

You nod proudly, “Mhm!”

Tavia throws her hands in the air, “Girl!  You ain’t gonna be nothing but a booty call then.”

Ou screw your face up at this admission.  “Whatchu mean?  He ain’t hood actin’,  I just gave you the clipped version of how it went down.  Why you think that?”

Tavia sighs, “You gotta get his number, so you have control.  But since it’s the other way around, you gonna be waiting for him to call, and then when he does at 11pm, you gonna be showing off your wingspan and upset cuz he ain’t called you since.”

“Tavia, calm down.  It ain’t even been a day.  I’m not tryna wild like that, and he don’t seem the type.”  You say with less spirit than before.

“And if that’s what you wanted, you know I’m down for you; hit a split on the dick shawty act up!  But I know you for real want some committed peen, so I’m just giving you worst case before it slaps you in the face, ok?” Your good vibes from earlier are coming down faster than guillotine so you decide to dismiss yourself.

“Don’t be upset girl.  You still did your thing, and milk him for all it’s worth either way.  Hate the game, not the player!”  

You roll your mat up and go back to your room.  Your eyes go straight for your phone.  You think back to the articles you read on dating.  People usually wait 3 days to call right?  Or is that just after the first date?  What’re the rules for the phone exchange?  He could’ve texted you right there to have his number, but he didn’t so, could Tavia be right?  And if she was, is it so bad?  Dick is dick, and it sure hasn’t been present in your life.

You go to pick up your phone, opening up to the main menu.  

Missed Call (1) Voicemail (1)

Your heart thumps in your chest as you check the number.  It’s just digits, not one of your known numbers.  You walk across your floor couple times before listening to the message, calming yourself down and for the first time hoping it was just a bill collector.  You select the number and dial before closing your eyes to center yourself like the yoga instructor told you.  A few rings pass before you realize what you may have done.

“Hello?”

Your pulse literally stops as your eyes fly open at the voice on the other line.  You accidentally hit call back instead of call voicemail.

“Miss (Y/N)  Is that you?”  T’Challa says.

“Yeah, hey, how are you doing?”  You say in as steady voice you can muster as you pull at your hair in frustration.

“I missed you earlier.  Uh, your call, I mean.  Well, I called you.  Did you get my message?”

So that was him on that voicemail.  You didn’t want to lie but you didn’t want to look weird calling without context either.

“Uh, yeah. I did.  Thanks for calling by the way.”

He could’ve called to say he didn’t want to see you again.

“Please, I should be thanking you for offering your time.  So do you know when you would like to do it?”

Heat crawls from neck to your cheeks, out of your pits, from your nani, all at once. Do what?!  Is he inviting you somewhere or asking a favor?

“Uh, how does Saturday sound?”  You freeze at the anticipation of his answer.

“That’s great!  I have no problem with that.  We will try for 5pm?”

You nod like he can see you before responding, “Yeah, that’s good to me.  I can’t wait.”

You could practically hear T’Challa smiling as he said, “Wonderful.  Forgive me for the time of the hour, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You sit on the bed to keep from falling under your buckling knees.  “Not at all, I was just turning in so I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“You’re too kind.  I will see you then, if not at the shop first!  Good Night (Y/N).”

“Good night T’Challa.”  You press the red symbol and take the deepest breath you’ve done all day.  How erotic did that sound ‘goodnight, T’Challa’?  Geez just call him back to come over and get it over with already, you thought.  

You turn off the light and lay in your bed electrified with that same energy from before.  You almost forgot, but you pick up the phone and push for voicemail this time and listen:

Hi, I hope this is the right number.  (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend.  I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time.  We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds.  Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place.  (laughs then clears his throat)  Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message.  This is T’Challa by the way.  Hope to hear from you soon.

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times.  Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again.  You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people.  No one has claimed nobody yet.  But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.

Part 3

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

The Coffee Prince

Commencement Day

My Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@hairhattedghooligan@universalbri @therevolution-willbelive @you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines @airis-paris14

groovybbyy and nyeebey, yall here too! I just can’t tag you for some reason <3</p>

[artlessictoan]

Day 4 - Uncle Kankuro

some kank&yodo silliness, bc I will never get tired of writing these two interacting nor will I ever get tired of pointedly ignoring canon and supplanting my own fics in its place

(ao3 version)

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Day 4 - Uncle Kankuro

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Yodo had been sitting quietly in the living room since he got home, lying on her stomach in the middle of the floor, idly flicking through an old novel.

She was up to something. She was definitely up to something.

Not that her reading was unusual, or her ignoring his presence as he flopped down in his lounge chair with a mumbled ‘hey brat’, but there was just something too… perfect about the scene, like she was acting bored and aloof, instead of just being bored and aloof as she normally was and, as many painful, embarrassing experiences had taught him, when in doubt, always assume she was up to something.

So, all that remained was to figure out whatever nasty little scheme she’d put into play this time, hopefully before he fell right into it.

Frowning, he stretched one of his long legs forward to prod at his niece’s foot.

She immediately kicked him back.

Not ready to accept defeat just yet, he nudged her again, big toe seeking out that ticklish spot right in the middle of her sole, he didn’t quite manage to get it before she brought her other foot into the game, trapping his awkwardly between her ankles. He snorted and easily pulled himself free, retreating back to his chair as he thought up a new tactic.

Yodo was still refusing to even turn her head in his direction, still pretending to be completely engrossed in her book; he could easily use that to his advantage though.

With stealth instilled in him over decades of hard training, Kankuro slowly, silently raised himself out of his chair, stepped just close enough that she wouldn’t notice him, balanced himself on one leg and gently smacked his foot in her face.

“GAH! You fu-!”

Letting out a scandalised gasp as he smooshed his foot against her nose, he called over his shoulder, “Gaara, quick, get in here, Yodo was about to curse again!”

The girl’s skinny little rat-claw fingers finally managed to pry him away, shoving at him until he toppled to the floor in a cackling heap. Finally free from his onslaught, she spluttered and rubbed harshly at her face. “Ugh, I was gonna say fungal infection ooze, ya donkey-pit!”

“Y’know,” he managed to say between laughs, “I think that swapping ‘ass’ and ‘hole’ with synonyms still counts as a swear.”

Her glare was sharp enough to cut glass, apparently she’d been taking notes from her father.

“Relax kid, I’m not actually gonna tell on you-” because he had no doubt Gaara would blame his potty mouth “-but I am gonna need you to tell me what horrifying prank you’ve got cooking this time.”

She rolled her eyes, fussed her hair back into its artfully dishevelled style and returned to her book. “Ain’t got nothin’ cooking,” she said.

“Riiight, and I’m the greatest Hokage who ever lived.”

“You wish,” she snorted, flashing him a quick, toothy grin, “Aunt Sakura’s way cooler than you are, talk to me when you’ve punched a god.”

His face dropped into an expression of blank horror as he pondered what the ramifications of the next generation growing up around such impossibly terrifying powerhouses might be. Damn, I’m getting old, he thought, before sitting himself upright and staring at Yodo once more. Ok she wasn’t gonna tell him what she’d done, that was fine, he could figure it out, no problem.

If she wasn’t bothered about moving from her spot, then that meant that, a) she didn’t need to do anything herself to put her scheme into motion and b) the trap was somewhere in this room – no way would she want to miss out on her victim’s reaction.

Disguising the movement behind a yawn, he scanned his eyes across the lounge, looking for anything wrong, any signs of disturbance at all.

Nothing unusual about the TV or the kids’ game consoles, Gaara had cleaned the floor this morning, so no dust-tracks to speak of, some books had been moved on the shelves, but given that she was currently reading one that could easily be put down to her choosing something to read – he mentally filed it away anyway, just in case – table looked untouched, chairs were exactly as he remembered, damnit, he couldn’t pick out anything, but she was just lying on the floor, legs idly kicking at the air as she flipped another page, cheek puffing up where she was resting it on her hand, exuding an aura that just screamed ‘trouble’.

Maybe that was her plan, deliberately act all suspiciously innocent until he was seeing traps in every shadow, almost pranking himself with his own paranoia! It was an advanced technique, but she was a quick learner and had a serious devious streak, he had no doubt she’d be capable of it… or maybe that’s just what she wanted him to think.

Damn it all.

Just as he was standing up to leave – because he had better things to do, definitely not because he was being outsmarted by a snotty little brat – Yodo had the audacity to snicker into her book, flashing one of her too-toothy grins up at him.

Oh, he was not going to take that; her book was yanked away in under a second, pulled effortlessly into his hand by a chakra thread.

“Oi, I was just gettin’ to a good bit!” she snapped, growling and jumping up to swipe at it.

He held his arm above his head, grinning wide as he said, “What’re you gonna do about it kid?” Before she could leap on him like she was clearly planning, he planted his hand right on her face, gently pushing her back even as she kept pushing forward. “C’mon, do you even want it ba-ACK! What- did you just lick me, brat?!”

While he was rapidly removing his hand from her slobbery maw and rubbing it harshly on his shirt, she managed to clamber onto his back and was just centimetres away from reclaiming her stolen property.

Still shuddering at the dampness on his skin, he tried to claw her off – carefully avoiding going anywhere near her mouth again – flailing limbs and clawing fingers grasping at the corners of the book. In all the confusion, he wasn’t sure who managed to send it flying into the air, but, following its path, he suddenly couldn’t care less, even as Yodo leapt from his shoulder and landed on it with a cry of triumph.

He was much too busy staring at the unnatural shadows hidden away in the ceiling’s air vent; normally they would allow for the cool air captured from the wind towers dotting the building’s roof to flow into the house, offering relief from the burning sun, but he was only just noticing that it was a little less draughty in here than it should be.

“Uh-oh.”

Flashing a quick, victorious grin at his niece, he casually leapt to the ceiling – chakra-coating a hand and his feet to stick in place – and reaching into the dark pit to discover what she’d hidden away there.

When he pulled out a cluster of familiar, disembodied puppet limbs, he had to stare at them for a good long minute just trying to process everything.

Seriously? She was gonna try and scare him with this? He regularly fell asleep cuddling a puppet head that Temari had once described as ‘the physical manifestation of all humanities sins’ and often found random arms and legs in his dresser when he was looking for clothes, even with the element of surprise, he was literally incapable of being scared by it.

He looked down to deride Yodo for her weak attempt, but she wasn’t there, book lying abandoned on the carpet. Frowning, he turned to find her, but was met with a blank stare.

“…What are you doing?” Gaara asked, tone suggesting that he’d had a very long day at work and would very much like to not have to navigate his brother’s eccentricities today if at all possible. Beside him, Yodo was rocking on her heels, hands clasped behind her back.

“Uncle said he wanted to play a prank on you, he was gonna make all that stuff fall on you when you sat down on the couch.”

Oh shi-

The smirk on his niece’s face was positively devious; he wasn’t sure whether to be horrified, or proud.

But he definitely knew how to feel about his little brother’s expression; the years had not dulled his death glare in the slightest. “Kankuro, what is the meaning of this?”

“N-no, Gaara you don’t understand, she set me up!”

That girl had the ‘cute pout of innocence’ act mastered. He’d taught her well – perhaps a little too well – but… he hadn’t taught her everything.

Revenge was gonna be sweet.

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