#also the second one is slightly brighter colored i think? i think i started w 2 different base flags that were slightly differently satura

[aropride]

concept i thought of

[tu-sugar-mami]

So @alcinassugarbby asked for another part of my previous music drabble, where R teaches Alci how to perrear to latino music. And if you want to get the vibe you can listen to the Spotify playlist i made specifically for this.

Also, just to let you know, this was written with latino people in mind.

I took my time with this one, but please enjoy ;)

------

The castle was huge af, you yourself had gotten lost in its infinity many times, mostly when you have the late night cravings and sneakily you manouver you way out of Alcina's hold and have to find your way through the darkness of the hallways in order to find the kitchen. It was like a neverending maze, but just as it was great for parties and hide and seek games, it was a pain in the ass to keep clean.

Maids had stopped roaming the castle's halls a long time ago (more like, the family outlived them), and Alcina never bothered to hire new ones, so the chore of cleaning the place fell upon the daughters.

Your mom raised you right, you were not going to let the girls struggle with the the chores when you could do something about it, and so, you being in your right age to put music to clean but not old enough to put Juan Gabriel, you pulled out your phone, connecting it to the speaker you made Alcina buy for you, and you started to sweep and mop, with your sleep shorts on clinging to you like a second skin and an oversized shirt (courtesy of Alcina's wardrobe) hanging on your body.

You were the only one currently in the castle, as the rest of the family went out for some business stuff with MM, leaving you the entire place to do as you pleased, so you didn't hesitate to blast the music through the whole east wing while dancing around the room you were cleaning. Though you lost track of time, and when you felt a hand on your shoulder just when you were crouching throwing it back, lost in the music, you jumped 3ft in the air with a surprised yelp, only to run to the nearest couch to grab a deadly weapon, a decorative cushion, and wield it with assertive determination towards whoever had dared to put a foot inside your home.

"Whatever are you doing, dear?" You heard your lover's amused voice and you blushed, letting out a squeak of surprise at being caught while dancing like that. You didn't even hear her arrive, but then again, the music was too loud.

You quickly turned the music down, so it wouldn't hurt her ears and so you could hear her better.

"I uh, was cleaning?" You said, unsure of your answer. You went to her, giving her a welcoming hug, though it was mostly to hide your face.

Alcina, the ever teasing woman, looked at a flustered you and a smirk formed on her face. "What an interesting way of cleaning. I'm sure the floors will be sparkling when you're done." And if it wasn't enough, she added: "You're really good, my love, you should teach me sometime." Alcina could say stuff like that all day, but in reality she loved the cute way your butt bounced up and down and as cool and composed as she looked in the outside, she was having a hard time keeping her eyes (and hands) off of your lower back. Because she's a gentlewoman, and a lady, and not because her daughters are wildly unpredictable and no one could assure her they wouldn't barge through the door at any moment effectively interrupting and testing her self control.

Though what she said gave you an idea, and now it was your turn to smirk mischievously. "Oh, i can definitely teach you. I would love to, even."

Her expression went blank and her face went pale, or well, even paler if it was even possible. "No." She said without a pause.

You giggled, and she giggled too because she cherished your laugh.

"No, but really. I could teach you. I mean, i'm no master myself but i know my moves." To prove your point you smoothly swinged your hips left and right, while holding Alcina's hands to make her follow your dance.

"I don't think i can do that, dearest. Maybe is best if i refrain from doing such dance." The smile on her face was small but it made the whole room brighter and you wanted to kiss her right there, although at that exact moment one of your favorite songs, and a classic at that, could be heard from the speaker and you didn't waste a second to dance along with it.

"Watch this, Alci." You said as you started to move at the rhythm of Yo Perreo Sola. Your left leg bouncing against the floor, then you started to move your hips in a rhythmical circle with a little pause and bounce of your butt at the end of every lap. It was really simple, yet Alcina looked mesmerized. And when you bent over, with your hands on your knees, and started going up and down, Alcina's eyes were definitely glued to you.

"See something you like?" You asked, smugly.

Alcina was speechless. But her gaze fixed on your behind let you know that in fact she did like it, she did like it a lot.

You stopped and you could have sworn you heard Alcina whine. "Why did you stop?" She asked, with a tint of disappoinment in her voice.

"You didn't say anything, so i thought you might not like it." You turned away from her to hide your smirk, because it was all bs, you knew she was enthralled.

"No, no. I like it. Although i must admit, i'd rather wish you'd dance for me like this more often." When you faced her again ahe was watching you intently.

"Tell you what, you dance for me first and i'll dance for you tonight in our chambers, how's that sound?" You were struggling to keep your grin under control as Alcina seemed to seriously think about it.

"You really want to see me dance like that, don't you? You little devil."

"There's nothing else i'd wish for right now."

Alcina sighed. "Fine, i am willing to do it." She held your face with her hand and leaned to kiss you. "Just because i really like that butt of yours."

You blushed but went to choose a song nonetheless.

"Let's start with something easy." You said as you browsed through the Colores album, looking for a song that you thought fitted her perfectly and 'Negro' started to play.

Alcina had listened to your songs before, but it never ceased to amaze her how different each song was, the rhythm and lyrics, not to mention the many different languages, and seeing you so excited to share part of your culture with her– it just made her heart soar.

"Alright, how should i start?"

Your huge bright smile made it impossibe to hide how much you were enjoying this. "You see, my dear apprentice, perrear is an art where your hips are the brush and the room is your canvas. Now, with me, stand like this and try to move you butt up and down along with the beat."

Alcina was hesitant. How a lady such as herself would allow her body to move in such an... aggravating... manner? Well, the answer was that she loved you. She would do anything for you and if it was your wish to see her dance, then she'd swallow her pride and try her best.

With awe you witnessed how your lady attempted to perform the basic step of perreo, though you could clearly see she was being shy, and you didn't blame her. The first time you tried to learn in front of your full body mirror was like that too.

"How's this? Am i doing it right?" She asked, unsure.

Her posture was a bit awkward, and you placed your hands on her to correct it. "Yes, now try to lean down a bit, like this. You can put your hands above the knee for support." She did. "Now, the tricky part. Try and arch your back a bit, just a bit, while you throw it back."

"I'm not throwing anything back, dear." Alcina said, confused, and even glanced behind her to confirm.

You giggled. "Baby, i meant your butt. Like this."

Alcina followed your example, and she being an extremely smart, talented and observing woman, picked up the move real quick.

"Now try to draw a circle with your hips. Yes, just like that. You're doing great, babe!"

"I sure hope so, my love. I'm really looking forward to you dancing for me tonight." She smirked, stopping her moves and pulling you close to her, her hands on your back pressing you against her front. "I putting a lot of effort and i require praise and kisses." You were more than happy to comply to her wishes, climbing on a chair and proceeding to kiss her hungrily. Wet kisses could be heard in the room, and Alcina's hands under your shirt gently scrapping the bare skin of your back were driving you crazy. But you knew you were getting too lost in the moment, and as much as you wanted to keep drawing those delicious groans from her you still had a goal to accomplish.

With a last bite to her bottom lip you pushed yourself back and jumped to the floor, ignoring Alcina's whine of disappoinment.

"Let's move to something a little more difficult." You say, a little bit out of breath, as you change the song to Gasolina. It started with a rapid beat and you wasted no time following it.

"Oh god..."

"Now you do it."

You'd be lying if you said seeing Alcina try that specific step didn't stir something in you. Definitely her leaning down, moving her hips side to side, slightly rotating her waist, in a rapid pace was a sight to behold.

"My love, you're drooling." Her amused voice reached your ears and you got out of your trance.

"I guess i'm really good teacher." You day, the back of your hand hiding your mouth.

"Mmh, well i think so too." She laughed. A beautiful laughter indeed. "Do you happen to have more knowledge you'd like to share?"

You lit up as a new song came into mind.

"I do!" Wait a sec!"

You quickly change the song and run back to Alcina's side.

"Third step! Should be easy enough." You squat and thrust your hips forward in a repetitive smooth motion while gradually rising with every 'Tra' of the song, slowly, tempting, alluring. "What do you think?"

Alcina is staring again, and you can almost hear the Microsoft startup sound as her brain reboots.

"Would you look at that! It's already night time." She said, pointing to a half covered window that lets in a faint but clear ray of sunlight. You opened your mouth to deny it but Alcina was already hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist. "And i believe we made a deal." Her husky voice and hungry eyes left no room for arguing, though you wouldn't complain.

-----

I think i should put links to videos so you can get a reference.

If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

[hanemiso]

Wish I Were Tohru

>>> a sohma yuki x reader <<<

genre: lil fluff, lil angst??

warnings: none

song: heather by conan gray

synopsis: you’ve been able to get close to the Sohma and become close friends with him. you have feelings for him, but you’re pretty sure he has feelings for Honda Tohru.

a/n: I love this boy and he needs love, I AM HERE TO SUPPLY LOVE 🥺❤️ honestly Yuki is my favorite from Fruits Basket, Haru being a close second and Kyo a close third!! I just don’t see enough Fruits Basket content on here so I thought maybe I’d make some, but this one is kinda shitty ngl. It was long but it just doesn’t feel like my best work. But, I’ve been working on this for a while, so I thought I’d post it anyway heh :)) I guess this means I officially write for Fruits Basket now!!!

It all started the 3rd of December, when your feelings for Yuki made themselves apparent. On that winter day, you were freezing because you weren’t wearing a warm enough coat and Yuki gave you his sweater while you two walked to school. Your cheeks warmed up quicker than the rest of your body as he smiled at you and wrapped his sweater around your shoulders. With a close-eyed smile, he warmly said that it looked better on you than it did on him; those words struck a cord in your heart, and from then on you accepted the fact that you had fallen for the boy who had become your closest friend.

Of course, you got shit for it from his fan club and they relayed all the rules of the fan club to you during lunch. But after that incident, some of the girls from the fan club began asking Yuki for his sweater, to which he shot them down nicely. That small action didn’t go unnoticed either, and made you feel like he only ever did that for you, and made you fall even harder for the Sohma.

It’s been months since that instance, and you haven’t said anything to him about your feelings because you didn’t want to look like another one of the girls from his fan club desperate for his attention and love. But, seeing as you two have grown closer and you’ve gained enough confidence to do something about your feelings, you decided yesterday that you would confess to him today.

You walk up to him in the hallway during passing period, slightly shaking from nerves, and get his attention by calling his name. He turns around and smiles at you, earning you a glare from the class president who was talking to him earlier.

“Oh, l/n-san, hello!” Yuki greets warmly. 

“Hey Sohma-kun! Can I...” you start, but trail off as you see his eyes drift away from yours and land on someone behind you. You glance behind you and see Honda Tohru, your friend, walking down the hall with Uotani and Hanajima. When you look back at Yuki, you can see his eyes follow her figure as she passes, gazing softly. Seeing that makes your heart drop, along with your confidence level.

When he looks back at you, you shake out of your thoughts and quickly say, “uh, sorry, I meant to tell you I’m busy after school so I won’t be walking home with you guys today.”

A look of confusion crosses his features briefly, but is replaced with a smile as he answers with, “Oh, alright. I’ll let Honda-san know.”

You thank him with the best fake smile you can muster before quickly walking down the hall to your next class. When you’re far enough away, your smile drops, as does your gaze. You definitely took notice of how Yuki’s eyes seemed to brighten as he watched Tohru walk by, brighter than the blue sky. It was a look you were sure Yuki never bestowed upon you, but you understand why. Obviously, Tohru is very pretty; definitely a sight for sore eyes. She’s so kind and thoughtful, among other things, Her personality draws people to her, and you can understand why. And because you can understand why Yuki would gaze at her like that, your confidence plummeted and your confession got caught in your throat. But you didn’t want Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru to know your mood was gloomy, which is why you chose to walk home alone today.

They shouldn’t see you in such a down mood stemmed from jealousy; it’s not fair to them and it would only make you as mature as his fangirls. Jealousy is not a flattering color, after all.

On your walk home, the moment replayed in your head. Your brain kept trying to pick apart his facial expression, hoping to find some solace in the evidence of a misunderstanding. Finding optimism in the hopes of a misunderstanding, you walk along the street with your head held high, deciding to try again tomorrow.

.

.

But, oh how unfortunate you’d be this week.

The next morning, there’s news of chilly weather for the rest of the week, right when it was starting to warm up a little. It doesn’t matter much to you, seeing as you grab a nice coat this time to keep you warm. You walk out the door and see Yuki and Kyo standing in front of your house, waiting for you to join them on the walk to school. Their attention turns to you as you approach them, and they greet you. As you greet them back, Kyo shifts his stance a little to reveal Tohru standing behind him with a smile on her face...and Yuki’s sweater pulled over her uniform. The same sweater he had given you to wear in December. The sweater you thought he had only given you to wear.

And yet again, your confidence plummets into the floor. All you can do to keep your mood seemingly high is smile and remain silent on your walk to school. Yuki and Tohru are caught in a conversation the entire way, which Kyo sometimes comments on, but Kyo notices how quiet you’ve gotten and how you won’t make eye contact with any of them. He ruffles your hair, causing you to look up at him in surprise because he doesn’t do that unless he’s trying to lift your spirits.

“Do you wanna...talk after school?” He asks, turning his head away from you.

You smile, knowing he’s trying to give you support. Kyo was always like that; he does care a lot, but he doesn’t always know how to show it.

“Yes, thanks Kyo-kun.”

.

.

“Alright, spit it out.” Kyo says, leaning against the wall.

You sigh, turning your gaze to the ground as you try to explain everything to him. It all sounds really stupid to you when you say it out loud, like it’s not a big deal...but it feels like one. It feels like he’s messing with your emotions, but Yuki’s not the kind to do that intentionally. Once you’re done spilling your guts to Kyo, he continues to stare at the tree in front of him as your hands begin playing with the ends on your skirt.

“It’s stupid, I know. And it’s not like I hate Tohru-chan, I could never. She’s such an angel, I can understand why you’re both so drawn to her. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprising if Yuki was in love with her. I just...I wish...”

I wish I were Tohru.

That’s what you wanted to say. Jealously really is an ugly shade.

“Uhm, never mind, Kyo-kun! It’s nothing, I promise. I shouldn’t be complaining like this; I shouldn’t burden you with this nonsense, especially when it’s about someone you dislike.” You add quickly, concealing your true feelings with a close-eyed smile.

Kyo looks at you with wide eyes, surprised at your change of attitude. Sure, he doesn’t really care about anything that has to do with Yuki, but when it also concerns you, a close friend, he cares a lot. The fact that you tried to invalidate your feelings pisses him off, but he tries putting that aside as he faces your retreating form.

“W-Wait, y/n-”

“Uhm, let’s go Kyo-kun! I’m sure you don’t want to be here any longer than you already have to.” You smile at him, taking steps towards the school gates.

That fake happiness; the facade you’re hiding behind to mask your hurt feelings, it’s definitely becoming more transparent to Kyo as all the words you uttered about the issue swirl in his mind. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never cared about Yuki or what’s going on in his life, so how can he possibly give advice on an issue concerning him?

As you both walk in silence in the direction of your homes, Kyo replays your words over and over in his head, trying to think of something to say to encourage you in some way.

“L-Listen, don’t give up so easily y/n! Just tell him how you feel, I mean you’ve come this far! You know how much I hate that rat, but he’s not...a bad guy. And if I’m wrong and he breaks your heart, I’ll break his stupid face for you!”

You look up at Kyo in surprise, cause you know that must’ve taken a lot out of him to say something semi-nice about Yuki. He doesn’t dare make eye contact; his head faces away from you as his shoulders tense and he balls his fists. Something about how reluctant he is to admit it makes you laugh, and your laugh causes his eyes to widen as he looks at you.

“What? Are you laughing at me?!” He exclaims.

You shake your head with a soft smile on your face, a genuine smile.

“Nope, nothing of the sort. Thanks Kyo-kun, I won’t give up on my confession! Yuki and I planned a study session for tomorrow, so I’ll plan to confess to him then!”

“Good.”

.

.

After you changed out of your uniform at home, you set off for the Sohma residence. It’s not a long walk from your house to Yuki’s, so you slow your pace a bit to take in the scenery and steel your nerves.

After talking with Kyo yesterday, you hadn’t exactly figured out how you were going to tell him, or even when. Lucky for you, the study session you both had planned a week ago was an early one; close to right after school, maybe about an hour or two off?

After trekking up those myriad stone steps, you knock on the door of the Sohma residence. After a couple seconds, you hear Shigure’s voice on the other side of the door as he slides it open.

“Ah, y/n-chan! Hello!” Shigure greets with a smile.

“Hi Shigure-san, is Sohma-kun here?” You ask, smiling back at him.

“Oh, Yuki-kun? He’s been gone for about an hour or so with Tohru-chan. I’m not sure when he’ll be back, but would you like to wait for him here?”

Oh. He’s out with Tohru. Even though you guys had plans. It’s likely that he forgot, but it’s not like you guys made these plans a while ago; it’s been a week!

Your smile falters a bit, but remains on your face as you answer Shigure with, “Oh, I see. Thank you for offering, but I think I’m just going to head home then! Have a good day, Shigure-san!”

You bow to him before turning around and stopping in your tracks. At the top of the steps stands Kyo, staring at you with confusion written all over his face. You walk up to him and smile before trying to walk past him.

“Wait, y/n, what happened? I thought you and the rat were studying today.” Kyo asks, causing you to halt.

You bite your lip, swallowing your emotions, before turning back to Kyo with a pained smile and answering with, “He’s out with Tohru-chan right now. It’s fine, he probably just forgot. I’m just, uh, gonna head home now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyo-kun!”

Kyo stands there in disbelief as he watches you walk down the steps. He’s pissed now; after he admitted the rat wasn’t a bad guy, he does something like this. To his close friend, of all people! Don’t you mean more to the rat than anyone else?

Kyo grits his teeth as he runs to the house to ask Shigure where Yuki and Tohru are. Shigure gives him the vague answer of a certain shopping district across the city, and Kyo sets out to find Yuki to set him straight. The image of your sadness seeping into your smile is burned in Kyo’s mind, making him even more upset.

Kyo makes it to the shopping district about a half hour later, running from shop to shop. He asks store clerks if they’ve seen anyone matching the descriptions of Yuki and Tohru, but each one says they haven’t. Hours pass before Kyo approaches the last store and sees the silver-haired male standing outside with Tohru by his side, looking like they’re having a grand time. Kyo runs up to the two and grabs Yuki by the collar of his shirt, causing Yuki to stare at him in surprise and annoyance.

“You stupid rat! How thoughtless are you?!” Kyo starts, tightening his grip on his shirt.

“Let go of me, stupid cat.” Yuki deadpans.

“Does y/n mean nothing to you?! How dare you treat her like trash!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You ditched your study session with her today to go out with Tohru! Do you enjoy hurting her or something?! Cause you seem to be doing that a lot lately! Do you not care about her?! If you don’t, then why don’t you just say it to her face instead of making her sad every day!”

Yuki’s eyes widen as realization hits; he totally forgot about the plans he made with you today. The guilt he feels outweighs the anger swirling in his chest every time Kyo accuses him of not caring about you. He pushes Kyo off of him and hands Tohru the bags in his hands, all except for one.

“I’m sorry, Honda-san! I have to go!” Yuki apologizes quickly before sprinting out of the shopping district.

Yuki scolds himself for being oblivious to your feelings as he runs down seemingly endless streets. Yuki always cared for you; you were the one close friend he had before Tohru came into his life. Lately he’s noticed that thoughts of you are all that consume his mind at night, and the way he feels different around you than around anyone else. But, our poor Yuki has never felt this way before; he doesn’t know why he feels like this or what to do about it.

But when he heard that he forgot about his plans he made with you, and how that hurt you, he felt like the lowest of the low. How could he skip out on plans with you? How could he hurt you?

The sun begins to set as more tears adorn your notes. You weren’t really sure why you were so upset; it’s okay that Yuki is happy with Tohru. It’s not even a big deal that he forgot about your plans...so why did it hurt most to think he forgot about you? All these doubts begin swarming your head, causing more tears to fall, as you hear knocks on the front door.

You quickly wipe the falling tears as you walk to the door, trying to compose yourself for whichever visitor stood at your door. Your eyes widen as you open the door to see a heavily panting Yuki standing in front of you. You quickly plaster a smile on your face as you attempt to greet him.

“Sohma-kun? Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

“l/n-san, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot about our plans today and went shopping with Honda-san. I never meant to make you sad, I just-”

“Yuki-kun, can we...talk? Somewhere else? Let’s, uhm, go for a walk real quick.”

You grab a pair of slip-ons by the door and head outside, leading Yuki to a nearby kid’s playground. You both sit on the swings and silence envelopes you two as you gather your thoughts. Yuki stares at you as you stare at the ground, waiting for you to scold him or do anything to let him know you were fine.

“Yuki-kun...I still remember the third of December; me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you. Only if you knew...how much I liked you. How much I still like you. I remember how every girl from your fan club asked you for your sweatshirt, and how I felt special when you turned them down. But, I’ve seen the way you look at Tohru-chan when she walks by. And I get it, Tohru-chan is very beautiful. What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky. And I’ve been noticing lately how your gaze on her lingers, and how your face softens when you speak to her. You gave her your sweater to wear, too...not that it matters, I guess. Anyway, as my feelings for you continue to grow, I begin to see...and understand, how and why you like Tohru-chan so much. I mean, she’s an angel! She’s so kind, thoughtful, and caring...I understand why you’d want her. And why you wouldn’t want me. I mean, why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater; it’s just polyester. But, you like her better. And I’m able to accept that, as long as you’re happy, Yuki-kun! I just...sometimes...I wish I were Tohru-chan.”

Yuki stares at you in disbelief as you continue staring at your feet, a single tear falling from your eye. He really is oblivious. His brain can’t even begin to compute the misunderstanding going on here. After all, he has feelings for you too. So, just how did it end up so bad, he wonders. He finds it so hard to believe you reciprocate his feelings, and that while trying to find a way to confess to you, he was hurting you instead.

“I-I love you, Yuki-ku-” 

Yuki’s body moves as if on instinct, kneeling in front of you with his hands caressing the sides of your face. He smashes his lips against yours, only realizing what he’s doing once he feels you kiss him back. He pulls away almost as quickly as he placed his lips on yours, a blush creeping onto his face. You stare at him with wide eyes as he collects his composure and wipes a stray tear from your eye.

“l/n-san, I...I love you, too. What you saw between Honda-san and I is a big misunderstanding, and I’m sorry not seeing how I was hurting you. I’ve been spending more time with Honda-san this past week because she was helping me figure out a way to confess to you. Shigure suggested making you jealous like the love interests in his romance novels, and I honestly don’t know why I listened to him; I knew it was a terrible idea. But, that’s why Honda-san was wearing my sweater yesterday. When I thought that didn’t work, Honda-san suggested getting you a gift, which is why we went shopping today. I was so caught up in trying to make you happy that I forgot we made plans today. And instead of making you happy, I made you cry. Love isn’t really a feeling I’m fond of; I’ve never really experienced feelings this intense before. It took me a while to realize you were the reason my heartbeat quickened; why my stomach did flips, why warmth would spread in my chest. But when I found myself wanting to be with you every waking hour, I panicked. Truth be told, you’re the person I hold closest to my heart. I don’t let people in...from experience. There’s so much darkness that doesn’t reach the surface, so many things I can’t say just yet. But I will tell you in time, because you’re the person I trust most, and I’m learning slowly how to let people in. In the meantime, the one thing I can say with certainty, is that I love you...and I want to make you happy, if you’ll let me.”

Yuki takes your hands in his and smiles warmly at you. Worried that words will fail you, you nod with a grin on your face. The night air sends chills down your spine as you gaze happily at the boy in front of you. Yuki takes notice of the goosebumps rising on your skin and smirks a little, pulling his hands away from yours to grab the bag on the ground next to him.

He hands it to you while saying, “I have a feeling this’ll come in handy right about now.”

You take the bag from his hands and open it, revealing a familiar sweater. You press it against your chest, smiling at Yuki. You look down at his sweater and realize he's wearing the same one; he got you a matching sweater.

“You just looked so cute when you wore mine...” He smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I love it, Yuki-kun! Thank you!” You exclaim, throwing it on.

It was just polyester, but it now meant more to you than you thought it ever could.

[gh0styyt0astyy]

hm.. now i'm thinkin, right.. with your other two fics of deimos being an absolute little shit, what if either hank, sanford, or both got back at him for it... sanford getting involved would be a pretty big betrayal after helping him out with hank... (ps despite the fact that i did make it before i saw it i'm 99% sure i posted my drawing of dei and san ganging up on hank a couple hours after you posted the fic of them and i'm now unofficially half jokingly declaring it as fanart of that fic because good scenario PFDNKNDGKDJSF)

✨ [Karma’s a bitch] ✨

( HEY I HOPE U DONT MIND I MATCHED THIS UP W/ ANOTHER REQUEST THEY JUST WORKED TOO PERFECTLY TOGETHER )

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — In which Deimos comes to understand the meaning of “your actions have consequences.” (Lee!Deimos and Ler!Sanford + Ler! Hank)

guess the dude cant take what he dishes out…

key:

deimos

hank

sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; also hank accidentally gets kicked in the face; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts:] no. 8 + 10 / hank and sanford get their revenge

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

—————————

If there was one thing that Deimos was good at; it was being an absolute little shit. (Minus his hacking, fighting and semi decent medical skills.) A cocky little shit who was way too good at all of this.

“All of this” being; tasering Hank in the ribs, suddenly grabbing Sanford’s sides and running away, sometimes getting both Hank and Sanford in one good day.

Hank was done with Deimos’ shit, and Sanford just wanted revenge. So that’s what would happen. Sanford was gonna get his revenge, and he knew Hank would want in on that too. (I mean, c��mon. Hank is ALL ABOUT revenge.)

“Hank,” Sanford walked up to the man, poking him in the back. Hank’s shoulders jumped as he turned around quickly, shoulders falling back down but remaining tense. “I want your help.”

Hank stood there quietly, staring at Sanford. It was always so hard to understand what Hank was thinking behind those goggles.

“What is it.” Hank said, tilting his head slightly; Sanford grinned widely before he looked around the place. He grabbed Hank’s wrist (electing to ignore the jolt in Hank’s body) and dragged him to a different room.

“I want revenge.”

Hank perked up.

“I wanna get back at Deimos. You in?”

Hank thought, silently staring at Sanford. (At least, Sanford would assume he was being stared at.) “…So…?”

“What’s your plan?”

Sanford pumped his fist in the air as he leaned up towards Hank.

“Deimos!” Sanford called from another room, causing the other to lift his head from the little tablet he held. “Yeah?” Deimos called back. “C’mere for a sec, will you?” Deimos furrowed his brow. “Uh, sure.” He set down the tablet and headed off towards Sanford’s voice.

“San?” Deimos called out, entering the room he had heard Sanford in. “Over here, Dei.”

It was their storage room. Where the three would usually drop their weapons and stuff for the day before they conked out. “Hey San. What’s up?” Sanford motioned Deimos over. “Come here, I need you to look at something.” Deimos walked over, crouching down next to Sanford. “I thought I saw something glowing in there.” Sanford said, pointing into the closet. Deimos raised an eyebrow before peeking in. Something glowing? “What color?”

“Not sure. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Hm.” Deimos hummed. And then he saw it— a dull red glow that shone in Deimos’ face. “What the hell?” The glow got brighter and brighter before—

“AGK! SHIT!”

Hank leapt out of the dark closet and tackled Deimos to the ground, wrestling with him for a moment before Hank overpowered him and kept him to the floor. “GOOD GOD! Holy shit, Hank! What the hell!?” Deimos struggled under Hank’s hold.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.” Was all that Hank said, looking up at Sanford. “Excuse me?” Deimos said, a small tone of offense in his voice as Sanford walked up to stand beside the two. He crouched down with a small smirk on his face, Deimos looked between Hank and Sanford. “What are you two planning?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Deimos. You ever heard the saying, what was it… “Karma’s a bitch?” Hank asked.

“…Yeesss…?” Deimos answered, suspicion rising.

“How about the saying “your actions have consequences.”

“Yes Hank, I’ve heard these sayings before. Why are you—“

Suddenly it hit Deimos, the way Sanford sat at his head and took his wrists from Hank’s hands. The way Hank kept him on the floor. “Oh. Oh shit.” Deimos muttered.

“Yeaah. I’m sure you see where this is going.” Sanford said, holding both of Deimos’ wrists with one hand.

Deimos, honestly, was extremely nervous. But he huffed, refusing to show through his facade.

“I wonder how long you can go without laughing.” Hank mused, tilting his head again (in a way that looks threatening, but no harm was showing.)

“I can last longer than you did, Wimbleton.” Deimos said with a huff, flinching inwards on himself at a sudden jab at the spot where his shoulder met with his ribs. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s ticklish.” Sanford shot at him, tightening on Deimos wrists as he tugged. “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“First of all, I am not ticklish. Second of all, you guys are just wasting your time.” Deimos said, brows furrowing. Hank just stared before looking at Sanford. (In all honesty, Hank had no clue what to do. He’d just follow Sanford’s lead.)

“You aren’t, huh?” Sanford said, poking at Deimos again. Sanford didn’t miss the way Deimos flinched inwards again and (seemingly) bit the inside of his cheek. “Nope. Unlike you two.” Deimos grinned. “Alright then, you cocky bastard.” Hank butted in, latching onto Deimos’ legs. “You obviously wouldn’t mind us doing this, then. Would you?”

Deimos blinked, before seemingly understanding the situation he was in. “Look okay— usually I’d let you two have at it but I- um— okay okAY LISTEN-“ Deimos’ voice raised an octave, nerves jumping in his throat.

This was gonna suck.

“…would an apology make you let me go?” Deimos tried, watching as Sanford and Hank passed each other glances. “No.” Hank said, Sanford just grinned.

“Okay, I’m done waiting. Hank? Y’ready?” Deimos sucked in a breath, nervously. Hank was the master of making people antsy with how long he took to answer. The goggled man nodded.

Deimos tried to prepare himself, but he let out an awkward squawk as Sanford tased and circled on Deimos’ ribs. “AHAHGK—!” He yelped, clamping his mouth shut. Hank kneaded and clawed Deimos’ hips and lower sides. Deimos looked determined to keep any laughter inside. He shook his head. “Noh- nope— I’m naha— I’m not ticklish!” “Bullshit!” Sanford said, tickling the other side of Deimos’ ribs; it earned him a small snort.

Hank didn’t relent from his spots, either. He kept one hand on Deimos’ hips and the other started tweaking the skin of his legs.

“bweAHA- SHIHIT!” Deimos yelped again, trying to move away from Hank’s hand. “Oh? What was thaaaaat, Dei-Dei?” Sanford drew out, earning a frustrated and embarrassed whine from Deimos. “Huh… that’s funny,” Hank said, looking at Sanford, then Deimos. “I thought you said you could last longer than me? You didn’t… lie, did you?”

“I think he lied about a lot of things.”

“I dihihihid nohohaHAHT!” Deimos suddenly squeaked, arching his back before flopping back down. Sanford was vibrating his fingers into his stomach. “waHAHAIT WAHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIT!” Deimos tugged his arms again, trying to release himself from Sanford’s grip. “Lehehet gohoho!” Deimos whined.

“That’s funny, I thought I had said the same thing!” Sanford hummed in thought. “But alas, you didn’t listen…”

“I—Ihihihi’m sahahohorry!” “Hm.” Hank hummed. “You know, laughter in an apology doesn’t make it sincere. I don’t think you are.”

“Cohohohome ohohohon! I dihihihdn’t meEAHAHN IHIHIT—!” Deimos kicked his legs, trying to get Hank’s hands off as he tried to move away from Sanford’s. “Remember when you did this to me?” Hank asked, clawing at Deimos’ hips and sometimes shooting up to his ribs.

Deimos pulled his elbows to his face as best he could, hiding the creeping blush. He squealed when Sanford pinched his stomach. “SAHAHAHANFOHOHORD YOU TRAHAHAHAHITOR!” Deimos belted out loud laughter as Sanford only grinned.

Slowly, the tickling sensations stopped on Deimos’ body, the man in question letting out shaky laughs and breathing. Deimos sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his shirt ride up. “Wait wahAHAHIT WAHAHAIT! Lehehet’s tahahalk about thihihihis!”

Sanford thought, and so did Hank. The two looked at each other before shaking their heads. “Nah.” Was all Sanford said before blowing a raspberry on Deimos’ stomach.

“OHOHOHOHOH SHIHIHIT- OH MY GOHOHOHOD!” Deimos let out, his body going limp while his legs frantically kicked.

It was all fun and games until—

*CRRRRK!*

Sanford and Deimos stopped immediately, after realizing that Hank had accidentally been booted in the face. His goggles having broken and fallen off. If Hank was in pain he sure didn’t show it.

“OHOHO SHIT! Hahahnk! Hahank I’m sorry!” Deimos gasped, sitting up after Sanford had let him go.

Hank laid there on his back for a minute before sitting up and touching his face, already warm with a bruise forming.

“Well. Shit.” Was all Hank said.

“Are you okay?” Deimos asked, Sanford sitting in between them. Hank nodded. It wasn’t the worst he had been through before.

“…Okay, well- I think we all got our revenge?” Sanford said.

With Hank’s new lack of goggles, it was a little easier to see he was, indeed, looking at the other two and thinking. He looked at Sanford with dull eyes and looked like he wanted to say something before standing up. “Sure.” He said, offering a hand to the other two men.

They both stood up, Deimos still giggling slightly. Sanford hit his shoulder lightly. “You liar…” He grinned as Hank picked up his goggles in the background.

[lilred8220]

Well, yet another fic no one asked for😃

I wanted to write this because some time go, I was watching the fireworks when this song started to play↓↓↓

And I just thought how romantic it would be if I wasn't forever alone 🙃 so, I build a story around that. I hope you enjoy it!

P.s. This is a F!MC

--

I had been so excited for this day! In the human realm, my hometown this time of year had a huge festival ending with a huge firework show. I had asked to go a week in advance but due to being in the Devildom for the exchange program, I couldn't go. It definitely was a disappointment. However Diavolo, seeing me upset and now curious about the tradition, asked all about it and he thought it sounded fun. Thanks to him always wanting to do anything new, he immediately decided to do the same here in the Devildom.

So through the long week, he asked about everything we would do at the event to make it much more fun and quickly get everything ready to make this last second festival. It somehow all came together and it feels almost exactly like the festival from the human realm. The food, sweets and all! Now it was the time to enjoy the festival!

The brothers couldn't understand why I was so excited for this. Though we all went to festivals and saw fireworks, It was just something that I would always look forward to this time of the year and it's just more special this time around. It kinda feels as if I'm sharing something that I love with everyone I care about in a place where I like to call my new home. Hopefully they'll come to enjoy this as much as I do.

"So, this is called an Elephant ear?“ Beel asked, drooling at the large fried sweet in front of him.

I laugh, as I grab a piece before he can scarf the treat whole, "Yeah, it's just fried dough with powdered sugar on it. They usually sell these at any carnival or festival." I pop the elephant ear in my mouth, savoring the amazing taste.

The brothers each had something to eat as we took a break from all the festival games littered around. We all take two picnic benches for the 8 of us, well, us and Beel's giant pile of food he got. Everyone had won something from the games…well everyone but me and Mammon. Mammon was determined to win a game, yet his luck seemed to be the worse for wear today and all the games we'd gone to all ended up with one of the other brothers winning the game. My luck honestly wasn't any better due to playing the same games that the others had won.

"I'm telling ya! Those games are rigged! The people runnin 'em are just a bunch of con artists!“ Mammon yells, clearly frustrated that he hasn't gotten anything.

"Or maybe you just suck lol" Levi says, holding a Ruri-chan plush to his chest.

"Honestly, you really shouldn't be surprised, you were pretty terrible at all those games since you had no choice but to play fair." Satan adds on, which all the brothers nod in agreement.

Asmo laughs, "Well, what do you expect from a scumbag?"

I start to get annoyed as the brothers all start to bash on Mammon. He seems fine on the surface but I've been around him long enough, with him basically living in my room and all, to see all his little ticks. Like when he's excited, his hand gestures are more dramatic, to emphasize his point or how his eyes light up when something catches his attention, like something to make a quick buck. However, right now, with the way his mouth slightly twitches and his hand shoved into his pockets, he's upset. He really only does this when the brothers throw insult after insult at him, like right now.

I sigh as they continue their assault on him. But an idea comes to mind and it'll be easy enough to pull off.

"Does...that all that stuff apply to me too? Since I didn't win anything either, after all..." I say, putting on my best pouting face and looking down at the ground.

Immediately, the brothers started to panic, trying to reassure me that it wasn't true, successfully drawing their attention away from Mammon. I slightly looked up, passed the frantic brothers to lock eyes with Mammon. He stood there for a moment, a bit confused by my sudden comment. I flash him a quick smirk before looking up at the brothers, accepting their apologies. The brothers seemed to relax and drop the topic after that, returning to the food they have. Mammon, who had seemingly understood what my intentions really were, looked at me, with his face slightly flushed, then stared down at his food.

In Mammon's mind, he honestly doesn't know what force sent Y/N here but, she is honestly the best thing that has ever happened to him. At first, he hated the idea of being her guardian due to all of the extra work he was given. But, as days turned to weeks, her treatment towards him was nothing but sweet and loving. It honestly was a huge adjustment for him, since everyone treated him like scum or useless, having her place so much faith in him, even defending him and doing little gestures like this, it makes his head spin. He honestly couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but, his feelings for her drastically changed, he couldn't deny it now, how he longed for her, wanted her all to himself. How he loved her unconditionally.

I smile, quickly finish eating my food then stand up, "Ok! Time to get back to the games!“ I say, excitedly.

"Y/N, I'm glad you are excited but some of us still need to eat." Lucifer says, glancing at Beel and his mountain of food.

"Awww, come on Lucifer, I wanna try to win something before the fireworks start." I plop down again, putting my chin in my hands.

"Well, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time." Lucifer tries to cheer me up, eating some fries.

Mammon looks up at Y/N, upon seeing her upset. He honestly hated seeing Y/N upset, even if for something so small as to wait for everyone to finish eating. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile everyday, it honestly was one of his favorite parts of the day to see her smile so sweetly. He'll do anything to make her happy. He sits up and scarfs down his food before standing up. "Ok, how 'bout this,' ' Mammon gets up and walks over to me, ' ' since I haven't won anythin', I'm gonna go play some more games and I'll meet ya guys later. Y/N, ya can come if ya want to." Mammon starts to walk away, at a slower pace than he usually would.

"Yeah! Ok!" Before any of the other brothers could protest, I quickly got up and hurried over to Mammon. I can hear the brothers stumbling to get up to follow us.

"Hey! Mammon is stealing Y/N!"

"That's not fair!“

"That scumbag..."

I hear some of the things they're saying as they seem to be trying to catch up.

I grab Mammon's hand and start to make a run for it. "Come on!" I glanced back at Mammon, who seemed shocked. He looks back to see the brothers in hot pursuit of us. Getting the hint, Mammon picks up the pace. We high tail it out of there, laughing like a bunch of kids all the while.

--

Me and Mammon finally stop and I flop on the floor, trying to catch my breath as Mammon puts his hands on his knees.

"I…I think we lost 'em" Mammon pants, out of breath from running around.

"I…I think so…jeez, how…how do you always do this when you get in trouble?“ I wheeze out, my human body not used to running as much as a demon. Especially if that demon is Mammon.

Mammon straightens up, finally catching his breath, "Well, I'm not usually running from ALL of my brothers, just Lucifer mostly."

Mammon reaches his hand to me and after a moment, I let him help me up. He helps me to my feet and when I look up, his face is very close to mine. We stare at each other for a moment before both of our faces turn more flushed than we already were.

His bright blue eyes that have a hint of that golden yellow has me in a trance. When I first met Mammon, it was the first thing that drew my attention, it's honestly something that I always find myself staring at all of the time. They are very beautiful to me and never fail to make me feel relaxed when I see them. But not only that, he is a very handsome man. His rich caramel skin with his pure white hair makes his face stand out even more. He is just so captivating to look at, however his personality is what truly makes him shine. Even if he tries, and fails, to hide his true feelings, he always has his heart on his sleeve, rather if he realizes that or not. He tries so hard to help me or to even make my day brighter when I'm not feeling my best. He even tries to protect his brothers and is always there for them. He honestly is the most caring person I've ever met and I can't help but fall for him because of that.

Mammon looked down at her face, he honestly couldn't help but stare. In his mind, she was more beautiful than anyone he's ever seen. Her beauty not only stopped at her looks but the person she was. She was a true wonder to him, too good to be true yet, here she was, defying all logic. All he wanted to do was look at every detail of her face, her eyes as they shine, her soft skin as the blush covers her face, her parted lips as her breath finally slows down. Mammon was the first to turn away, catching himself now staring at nothing but her lips.

He clears his throat. "W-Well since we're here, let's get to some games!" Mammon says, his fangs flash with his grin.

We made our way to the nearest game booth, both of us looking at the various prizes. The booth in question is a simple ring toss, the bottles are organized by colors which show what size prize you can get. There are the ridiculously large stuffed bears that are taller than me to the very small animal plushies. Scanning all the prizes, one catches my attention, a black plush crow with a yellow tag on it. It was big enough to hold in your arms, it's wings dangled at its sides. It had its beak opened slightly to look like a smile. I glance over at Mammon, who is currently eyeing a plushie of a grimm, that also has a yellow tag hanging off of it. I laugh, thinking of how that plush crow reminded me of him.

Mammon looks at me, slightly confused, "What are ya laughing at?"

"Oh nothing, though I know what prize I want." I smile, looking back at the crow plush.

Mammon follows my eyes over to the plush, he tilts his head at my choice, "Ya sure that's what ya want? There are plenty of things better than that ol' crow."

I nod enthusiastically, "Yeah, I think it's cute, like someone else I know." I playfully push him.

His ears turn a dark red but he laughs, "Well, I know what I want so, let's go and win some prizes!“

We pay the demon running the game and start trying to make the rings reach its mark. However, as in most carnaval games, the rings in question are only slightly bigger than the top of the bottles, making it much harder to win. Not to mention the bottles for the better prizes are further back, making it much harder. As we try a couple times, we don't get much luck and we're running out of grimms to play. However as we reach our last game, even though I end up with nothing, Mammon manages to sink a ring on a yellow bottle.

"We have a winner!“ the demon behind the booth says, walking over to grab the ring.

"Yeah! This was nothin' for the Great Mammon!" Mammon threw his hands in the air, and I cheered with him, "You did it! You won!“

The demon walks back over to us, "Alrighty, you can pick a prize with a yellow tag. Which will it be?"

Mammon's eyes flick to the plush he was eyeing earlier and he goes to speak, but an announcement rings through the speakers all around the festival, "The firework show will be starting in 15 minutes, marking the end of the festival! So hurry and grab a seat to enjoy the show!“ a cheery voice says before the music from before starts to play again. Mammon looks down at me for a moment before a small smile appears on his face.

Mammon looks at the demon and points at the plush crow, "I'll take that one."

I look up at Mammon, "But, I thought you wanted-“ I get cut off by the demon swift return, "Here you go." The demon hands him the crow plush.

Mammon takes the plush from the demon with his usual bright smile and starts walking off, I quickly follow, still confused. Once I catch up, he looks at me with a blush on his face and holds out the crow to me.

"W-well, there wasn't really anythin' I wanted, so I figured I'd get this ol' crow since ya seemed to want it so bad." He says with his usual bravado, yet it was a bit more shy than normal.

"But, you said…" I start to say as I take the plush but, cut my thought short.

Even though I know he wanted something, that much he's been saying all day, he still got me this crow plush. Knowing how he struggles to do these things and becoming a stuttering mess when it's pointed out, I choose to not question him. Yet, I can't help but love him even more, him knowing that I wanted something as well and that he'll be going back home later with nothing. I'll have to repay him later but for now, I'll just enjoy the rest of the festival with him.

I shake my head and give him a smile, one that shows how much I truly appreciate and love him, "Thank you so much, Mammon." I hold the crow close to myself.

Mammon feels all the air in his lungs escape him. Y/N's smile, the sparkle of joy and something more…intimate in her eyes. Honestly, for a split second, he found himself jealous of that crow, seeing Y/N holding it so lovingly. He wanted, no, needed to show her how much he loves her. If not tonight, it'll drive him insane.

--

After looking a bit, me and Mammon found a perfect spot to watch the fireworks. We sat on a hill that was a bit further away from the festival and luckily, we could still hear the music playing from one of the speakers nearby. We sat in a comfortable silence, waiting for the fireworks to begin. Which based on the amount of time it took to find this isolated spot, it should start at any moment.

Mammon is resting his arms on his knees as I sit with my legs crossed, the plush crow close to my chest. I watch all the demons in the distance hurrying to find a spot to watch the show as well. Thankfully, none of them seem to look in this direction. So right now, it's just us, alone.

After a few moments, Mammon looks over at me and shyly starts to speak, "H-hey, Y/N?"

I look back at Mammon, noticing his face slowly forming a blush, "Yes?"

"I…I wanted to tell ya-" Mammon gets cut off by the first firework going off.

We slightly jump, but my eyes widen as the firework show starts, "It's starting!"

I watch as the firework starts to make the usual dark Devildom sky shine bright with many different colors. All the while, a familiar song starts to play on the speakers, making this a moment that I want to treasure always. It was a song from the human realm and it was a song that made this moment feel more intimate. I honestly couldn't ask for a better day, I got to go to the festival with all my favorite people and I even had, dare I say it, a wonderful date with Mammon. The thought of going on a date with Mammon makes my cheeks burn but I truly wish that this day would never end.

Mammon's heart starts to pound in his chest, his gaze never leaving Y/N. He watches as her eyes glow with wonder, watching the fireworks as if it were the first time. She never looked more beautiful, more perfect than right now. If he was ever gonna make his move, it had to be now. Mammon opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't find it in himself to break her trance. However, his greed for her attention, her voice, her touch, for nothing but her, was growing. So, he closes his mouth and takes a deep breath. He leans closer to her as his shaky hand gently touches her cheek to turn her face towards him.

When I suddenly feel a light touch on my face, I snap back to reality. Before I can react, I feel my face being turned and suddenly, Mammon leans in, his eyes close and gently presses his lips on mine, like he's afraid that I'll break. My eyes widen, taking a moment to realize what is happening. Mammon, feeling me not move, starts to move away, most likely worried he did something wrong. But, not wanting to lose the moment, I quickly filled in the space he left, pressing my lips a bit harder than he did. Mammon tenses at my sudden movement but quickly melts into the kiss, holding my face with his hands. I place the plush to the side, momentarily forgotten, I place my hands on his chest for support.

The air stills, the world around us starts to disappear. The only thing to keep us from forgetting the world completely is the sound of fireworks and the song playing so sweetly.

I snake my arms around Mammon's neck, then he takes the chance to pull me in closer by my waist, closing the gap between us. Even though he was nervous at first, he seems to have relaxed, even nips at my bottom lip, causing me to gasp. He swiftly slips his tongue in my mouth, tangling it with mine, deepening the kiss. We held each other close, like we were afraid that the other would vanish.

Needing to breathe, we lean away slightly. I'm not sure when it happened, but I managed to end up on Mammon's lap. Mammon seems to also realize the position we're in and his breath hitches.

His hand comes up and holds my face, "I love ya, Y/N."

My heart flutters and I lean into his touch, "I love you too, Mammon. I…I always have."

"Y/N, I care about ya so much and I…I don't want anyone else trying to steal my most precious treasure from me. The thought of it kills me, because I'm yer first man." Mammon stops, becoming more shy, "I w-want ya to be mine and…I'll be yers…if ya want me."

I feel as though all of the butterflies in my stomach would explode out of me. I can't stop the big smile that appears on my face, "Mammon," I hold his face in my hands, "no one could ever take me away. And not only that but…" I bite my lip, feeling a bit bashful, "You already have me. Now and forever."

If Mammon could, his eyes would have hearts in them. He looked at me with such lovestruck eyes, his face is probably the most peaceful expression I've ever seen. I look back at him in awe, honestly have never seen him so happy, like he's on cloud nine.

A smile is plastered on his face, "I promise that I will be with ya till the end of time. I gotta be the luckiest demon in the whole festival, no, the Devildom. But, I guess I did win something at the festival after all." His smile suddenly turns into a smirk, "What do ya say we go somewhere more private and we can continue…this?"

My face turns red, but I nod. We stand up, I grab my plushie so that we can leave when I suddenly hear someone, or rather, some people, running this way.

"MAMMON!"

We spin around, both of us knowing too well who that voice belongs to. Lucifer and the rest of the brothers are running at full sprint in our direction.

"Oh shit!" Mammon yells out, quickly sweeping me off my feet, making a run for it.

Startled, I grabbed on to Mammon's jacket, making sure to not drop my crow plush, "Ah! M-Mammon!“

He looks down at me, " Well, I might get strung up later, but I'm yer man now. I want ya all to myself and I don't know about ya, but I'm not ready for tonight to end." He flashes his signature smile.

I can't help but laugh, as we make yet another escape from the brothers. This is truly the best day I could have asked for.

[danddymaro]

Sweet Memories

Simple Sweet , little Fuckery. No real ships, just a pleasant read into the time spent at MB.

The reader gets a picture out of baby boy Eli W/ A lil bit of Ocelot x Reader that’s barley noticeable you can just push it aside.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word Count : 1392

Sweet Memories

"Hello there my little man!" (f/n) said with a quirky smile out on display, “ Care for a picture?” she went on with the same joy, grinning from ear to ear with elation.

“What for?” Eli replied back dully, slowly raising his eyes up to hers, the same downturn of his ever-present scowl twitching slightly at the sight of her and the stupid little grin she wore.

"Well, what do you mean what for ?" She said with a huff, "To take a picture! To capture the day!" She cheered, her arms opening wide as she explained her reasoning to him.

If it'd been anyone else he would have scoffed and left without a word, but because it was (f/n) he sighed lowly, swallowing down his word of refusal.

It wasn't like he'd verbally agreed, but he didn't say no either.

And he didn't run off too.

'That’s as close to a good-willed yes as I'll get from him,' (f/n) reasoned, happy whilst she took in his show of compliance.

Settling behind him she put a hand to his shoulder, modestly posing with him until she watched the man that held the camera shake his head, not satisfied with the sight before him.

Ocelot dropped his shoulders, sighing lowly as he lightly lowered the camera, "Come on boy. Show off a grin," He encouraged the other blonde, wanting to make the shot count while simultaneously finding enjoyment in teasing the youth.

At the command the teen tisked, frowning even moreso, his booted left foot beginning to tap impatiently,

"Just get it over with old man," He bit back, receiving back a short snicker from the other male.

"- Now that you mention it," the young woman started, humming whimsically, “He's right. Come on now Eli, smile." (f/n) said before pinching his cheek to force the smile out, giggling when he huffed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest instead.

'I need a nice one to put in my album,' She thought joyously, having started the collage of memories to always keep them at her side, so no matter what happened she'd have something to look back to.

'I'll never forget you.

I'll never go through it again...

I refuse to let any of you be forgotten.'

She thought determinedly.

‘I want to make up for everything I’ve lost.

I want to be able to show everyone else in my future the thing’s that’d once made me happy.

Things like you Eli.’

"- You look so cute when you smile, " She then complemented the boy, " If only you'd show it off more," She said with dissatisfaction, wishing he'd do so more often.

“J-Just get it over with!” he stammered as she leaned over to him, the boy well aware he was glowing with the obnoxious color yet again, and it only made his face grow even warmer.

He wanted to hide and run away, but not before he let her have the little picture she was insistent on.

“So grumpy... (f/n) grumbled to herself, “ I guess if you don’t want to I shouldn't force you,” she started, beginning to draw back when his hand took a grasp at her sleeve, forcing her back, surprising her.

He pulled her back quickly, hastily putting them back in the same position as before,

“I said... Let's just get it over with,” he murmured, refusing to look at her, instead, forcing his eyes to look towards the camera, by then dropping his hands to his sides, waiting for her to return to her previous position.

"I want to," He insisted before growing silent, not moving an inch, barely even blinking as he waited for the picture.

He refused to show a smile, his face devoid of the little upturn she'd praised.

Instead, he pouted, the little, flustered expression worsening when she leaned down towards him, showing off a small smile, one that glowed with obvious joy that was even brighter than the one she felt before,

"You're so stubborn," She murmured before shaking her head, amused by his overall behavior.

Her attempt to get a smile out of him failed, but even so, she was happy with the result, glad to know that at the very least he'd granted her the small request.

'You could have just walked away,' She reasoned, appreciating the fact that he didn't do so. 'It means a lot  to me that you stayed.' She went on.

'I know I can be annoying.

I also know that sometimes, I try too hard with you.' She thought to herself. 'I guess I've got a lot of flaws too huh?' She silently asked him, knowing that sometimes she was too much, but that even then he showed her placid kindness, doing so even at his worse times.

He was never unkind to her, his sweetness peeking through even while heavily masked by his stony defensiveness.

There was a quick flash, giving her 3-second temperament blindness afterward that left her stunned.

“Well don’t you two look cute.” The tactical instructor then commented, entertained by the glowing color on the young boy’s face, but moreover (f/n)’s obvious enjoyment.

He lived to see her happy, following her around all day with her little idea in mind, glad to oblige and doing everything it took to raise a smile out of her.

Soon after, it didn’t take too long until the boy ran off, cursing beneath his breath with words that left her stunned,

“That boy,” she said with astonishment, shaking her head while staring off at the invisible trail he had left off, " He’s worse than a sailor,” She muttered to herself, chuckling wearily.

Looking back to the silver-haired man (f/n) spoke, "You think he’s alright?” she asked with a featherlight worry.

“The boy is fine;  Just camera shy I suppose,” he said grinning, knowing just what troubled the youth, but not willing to speak out about it to save him the embarrassment.

Though it was humorous to see him become so flustered, he wasn’t so much of a bastard as to let his little secret out.

“ So, where to next ?” Ocelot asked the smiling woman, waving the camera with excitement, waiting for her next suggestion.

A look of deep contemplation then came over (f/n), her eyes shut tight as her finger tapped over her bottom lip.

“Let's see...Where to... Where to..” she murmured, jumping slightly at the loud snapping sound right before her, blinking open her ( e/c) colored eyes to stare directly towards the held up camera, confused.

“ - I just couldn’t resist.” he started, putting up his hands in defense.“ But don’t worry sunshine. It’s a good one, trust me,” he said while giving her a thumbs up, accompanied by a little wink that made her shake her head.

She  trusted him for the time being, rolling her eyes before she spoke,

"Alright, but if it's not it's going straight over that railing," She threatened him, flicking his shoulder with her index, giggling as he swatted the offending little limb off.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey...Adam..?" She then quietly asked him while momentarily keeping her eyes gazing up at the falling sun, finally taking rest from their little mission,

"Do you think he’d like to have a copy?” she questioned him with genuine curiosity.

"Who?" He asked her with a raised brow, tilting his head down to look at her properly.

"Eli. Do you think he would?" She asked him again, sounding just as soft and uncertain.

“ I’m sure he’d appreciate it,” He told her, reassuring her that while it'd seemed hopeless at first, At the end of the day the boy did care about her, finding a soft comfort with her that wasn't existent for anyone else.

“- I’d be happy if he did,” she admitted, slowly turning to him, “And thank you,” She added with appreciation,

“Thank you for everything,”

She said while she clutched the small album to her chest, grateful for everything that’d been included in her life at the base.

The collection of sweet memories clutched to her chest only grew throughout the years, looked back upon with happiness and fondness, and simultaneously throughout the same time, the growing boy did the same, holding onto the same picture, making certain that wherever he went, it was always close to him.

- The old, worn image was precious to him, tucked within the pocket of his long coat closest to his heart.

[kafka-ish]

stanley’s sister has got it going on | r.t.

richie’s got a crush and he’s got it bad. the only thing that’s keeping him from the girl he’s been chasing is his best friend—her brother.

word count: 4,665

warnings/included: nsfw (not explicit), fluff, swearing, fem!reader

a/n: as i was rereading this i realized that this is the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written??? (so far). in comparison to other works it’s probably vv vanilla so pls bear with me

-

In the defense of Richie Tozier, it wasn’t his fault he ended up catching feelings for Stanley Uris’s little sister. There were a lot of things he couldn’t control. Like when his mouth opened and out came a poorly done impression of his chemistry teacher. (Which just so happened to have been done as Mr. Ford was standing behind the boy). 

Richie may as well just start a list of things he can’t help, marking y/n Uris down as number thirty-three. 

“Hey, Richie!” Well, well, well, if it wasn’t the person Richie had been most desperately trying to avoid. “Are you going to Stan’s tonight?” y/n asked. She was standing outside of his car door while he was in the driver’s seat, flicking through the radio stations, trying to find a good song for the ride home. 

Upon hearing the voice, Richie stopped fidgeting with the knob. It was honestly hopeless trying to find a good song at this point. None of the good stuff comes on until later. He turned his head to meet eyes with the accompanying voice from outside his car.

Bad idea. 

Of course, y/n chose to wear a tank top and the shortest skirt possible that day. Hell, any day he’d find his thoughts lost in her. Whether she was wearing a bikini at the quarry or in an oversized t-shirt and checkered pajama pants. 

“Earth to Richie?” y/n laughed. She waved her hand in front of his face, trying to capture his attention. Little did she know, that wasn’t necessary. 

“Actually, I was thinking about being a no-show today. I’ve been neglecting my training.” 

“Oh! You train? Which gym?” She was grinning wide and her gaze burned a hole through his heart. 

“The arcade. I gotta keep my skills fresh if I ever wanna keep that high score.” y/n rolled her eyes, but his comment still made her laugh. 

“Well, can you take me home? Once you drop me off I promise you can have all the time in the world to work on your skills.” Emphasis on ‘skills’. 

���Promise, eh?” Richie repeated, giving the girl a hard time. “Did Stan forget how to drive?” 

“No…” The ‘o’ part was drawn out. “He has his bird watching club today and I don’t feel like sitting in the sun for an hour while I wait for him.” 

Richie smiled to himself, thinking for a moment. On one hand, he shouldn’t be alone with the sister of one of his best friends’, as he had different intentions. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave his best friend’s sister hanging like that. In hindsight, he had come to the conclusion that there was a possibility of Stan getting mad at him either way. 

Taking Stan’s sister home it was. 

“What are you waiting for, y/n/n, get in.” Richie finally made his decision. 

y/n cheered happily, thanking him, as she rounded his car and opened the door to the passenger’s seat. 

“You have no idea how happy this makes me!” y/n smiled, her expression reaching ear to ear. 

“Oh yeah. I bet you’re over the moon about getting a ride from your brother’s best friend in some beat up chevy.” Richie tried his best to distance himself. He really did. But he couldn’t help but notice y/n’s figure in the tight-fitting clothes, especially when she sat in such a close proximity to him. 

“I don’t think you get it, Tozier.” y/n hummed as she started turning the knob on the dash, finally settling on some rock station. She lowered the volume so they could still talk without yelling over the atmosphere. “We never hang out.” 

“We’re hangin’ out right now,” Richie argued, daring to look away from the road for one millisecond just so he could steal a glance at her. 

“Yeah, but… You hang out with Bill, Eddie, and Stan, and stuff.” She sounded disappointed. 

“I guess it’s different with them.” Richie shrugged. It was different with them. Bill, Eddie, Stan, Ben, and Beverly even, had their group together. They had the same classes together. They faced off a killer clown together. 

“I get that you guys have your own friend group and stuff.” y/n said quickly, not wanting to sound lonely or weird from her previous statement. “But we’re friends. Aren’t we?” She said this with an unsureness in her voice that Richie didn’t know how to reply to. 

I should’ve just left her at school. What’s so bad about waiting in the sun while Stan’s off watching some stupid birds? I guess it is kind of hot out. But a little heat won’t hurt anyone, right? Besides, she’s wearing a tank top. 

Richie peered over at y/n who was looking out the window as her head leaned against it. 

A white, lacy tank top that makes her skin look even more—

“Richie?” Concern washed over the girl’s eyes. Her attention turned to him instead of the scenery that passed by them. 

Richie whipped his head away from her body and stared blankly at the road. It was almost as if he were a ghost. Except he actually had color in his face. 

“What is it, y/n/n?” Richie’s eyes were still on the road. 

“I asked if we were friends.” The girl giggled, not being able to take anything seriously for longer than five minutes. “But that’s a stupid question.” She looked down and began to pick at her nails. 

“Of course we’re friends.” Richie insisted. The only problem is that I want more and your brother would kill me. 

Something inside of y/n calmed at the affirmation. “So we should hang out.”

“Already told ya, y/n/n. I got a date with destiny today.” 

“I don’t mind being the third wheel.” 

To be frank, that was the last thing Richie needed. It was bad enough that middle schoolers would wait lined up behind him, watching as he lost at some silly arcade game that he still had a passion for. He didn’t need some hot girl hanging over his shoulder while he did so, too. But Richie’s mouth had betrayed his thoughts. 

“Only if you want to, y/n/n.” He had avoided trying to call y/n anything other than her name or her nickname. He wouldn’t allow himself to call her any of the cutesy trademark pet names he’d call other girls that he would shamelessly flirt with for fun. He started implementing this tactic in sophomore year once he really started to notice her. 

At first, it was the way she greeted him every time the losers met up at Stan’s house. Maybe he was crazy, but he swore she gave him special attention: always running up towards him when she saw him, her lingering by his side before Stan yelled at her, asking if she had anything better to do. Her smile was seemingly wider and her eyes brighter whenever she held conversations with him compared to the other losers—or maybe that was just Richie looking into things too much. 

Due to drama and false rumors, y/n had started hanging out with the losers more this year. It was an attempt for her to take her mind off of the absence of friends on her part. None of the losers seemed to mind, even Stan. Thus, she became a regular when the group went on swimming trips to the quarry or slept over at each other’s houses. This didn’t really help Richie’s case. Now, he was basically forced to see her figure in a swimsuit and in every other setting imaginable. Not to mention, he couldn’t do anything about it either. 

The two had finally arrived at the arcade. Richie had managed to snag the closest parking spot to the entryway and y/n relentlessly made fun of how he never parked straight until they got in the door.

“Okay, kid. Once you get your license, you can criticize my ‘bad’ parking. But for now, since you’re hitching rides for free, I say you better just keep quiet for now.” 

“But you’re so over the lines! I can’t imagine your coloring if that’s how you park.” 

“I’ll have you know, y/n, I don’t color. For one, that shit’s for babies. And I am way past that preschool shit. And second of all, coloring’s way lame.” Richie had made his way over to the Street Fighter machine and inserted a quarter in the slot. 

y/n watched him thoughtfully for awhile as he fidgeted with the joystick and jammed the buttons. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, growing bored of watching the same repetitive visuals from over his shoulder. But she didn’t think she could ever grow tired of watching him. 

“Hold on.” His hand smashed against the buttons in rapid fire movements while he simultaneously maneuvered the joystick. A few seconds after, the game played a pitiful noise and the boy let out a groan. Richie had lost. 

“That’s a weird way of saying coke.” y/n hummed before skipping off to the lounge area. 

On her way back, she saw Richie’s face contort in frustration. Once again, he had lost to the game. 

“Cheer up, buttercup!” y/n passed handed him the glass bottle and Richie had finally stepped away from the Street Fighter machine. 

“Easy for you to say. You don’t got an inanimate object beating ya four to one.” Richie pretended to wipe the nonexistent sweat off his brow and looked down to y/n, offering her a smug look. 

“Would a kiss make you feel better?” The girl leaned closer to him and got up on her tippy toes, preparing to peck him on his cheek. 

This was the first of y/n showing any sign of real interest. And while Richie wanted to bask in the glory of his long time crush finally coming around, his thoughts also drew to Stan. What kind of friend would he be if he made a move on his friend’s little sister? Technically she’s the one making the moves- 

Cut it out, Rich!

His internal monologue argued for a while before he realized y/n’s lips were attached to his face. 

“W-what are you doing?” Richie belatedly snapped out of his thoughts and came to his senses. 

y/n pulled away. Her arms crossed tightly around her chest and her posture was now slightly hunched over. Oh. 

“I thought I could make you feel better.” She mumbled. When she eventually spoke, she let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in. “Can you take me home?” She asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. 

“Of course.” The two started heading for the door and Richie tried to slow his pace so that his long legs would be in sync with hers. “To be honest, y/n/n, I was kinda getting tired of this ol’ dump anyways.” 

A small smile graced y/n’s lips as he talked. Even if she was still embarrassed from the previous events. 

“You’re not gonna be a professional video game player?” 

“Oh no. That dream’s been abandoned for a long time now.” Richie quipped back. He was turning the keys into the ignition and began to drive off. 

The car ride to Stan’s place was silent. Either because of the turn that had taken place earlier at the arcade, or because Richie didn’t wanna open his big mouth and accidentally slip up; ruining his relationship with both Stan the Man and Stan the Man’s hot sister. 

Richie’s old chevy slowly came to a stop at the front of Stan’s house. The sky was cloudless and an unnerving shade of blue today, highlighting how perfectly trim and green Uris’s lawn was. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” y/n finally spoke up. Her voice foreign to Richie’s ears after the fifteen minutes of dead air from the two of them. But it wasn’t that foreign. Her voice echoed through his brain practically everyday. Whenever classes got boring or nights seemed endless, Richie found himself either replaying past conversations between them. Or other scenarios… She was an unhealthy addiction he couldn’t quit. Like smoking, only hotter and way more deadly. 

“What’s there to talk about?” Richie faced y/n, putting on his best ‘I’m-not-interested-in-you’ face, when he really felt quite the opposite.

“Richie, I feel like you don’t like me.” Her accusation was dead wrong, but there was hurt in her eyes. Somehow, Richie had managed to convince the girl of his dreams he hates her when that couldn’t be less true. 

“I don’t.” He forced a chuckle to ease the tension but y/n wasn’t having it. 

“Can I tell you something?” y/n asked. Richie nodded, a quizzical look on his face. Before continuing, y/n swallowed. She didn’t usually get nervous, but Richie was someone to get nervous over. “I like you.” 

Her words felt like something out of a dream Richie once had before. 

“What can I say, kid. It’s impossible not to.” Of course, y/n didn’t really like him. At least, not like that. She was probably just saying this for shits and giggles. Pulling his leg. A classic Richie stunt. 

“I mean, I like you like how Ben likes Beverly.” 

Richie’s eyes then widened at the declaration and his body stiffened. 

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back,” she said with such ease that Richie admired. She shrugged and the thin strap of her tank top fell down her shoulder. Richie couldn’t help but notice, his eyes wandering where they shouldn’t. 

“Listen—” He gulped. His eyes kept trailing down no matter how hard he tried not to. “Listen,” he repeated, now meeting her big eyes, “I don’t not like you, y/n/n. In fact the funny thing is… is—” his words got caught in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Not with Stan’s breathing always down his back (whether Stan was actually there or not).  

“What’s so funny, Rich?” Her soft, sweet voice filled his ears once again. It was like a spell, because suddenly (and conveniently), the thought of Stan was no longer in the back of Richie’s mind. 

“I like you too, kid.” His voice was low, but y/n still heard him.

“So what’s stopping this?” A sly smirk formed on y/n’s face. She climbed over the control panel and her already short skirt rode up to be even higher. 

y/n sat herself on Richie’s lap. The boy had to keep from pinching himself. What was happening was straight out of a wet dream of his he’d probably had last night. 

The girl on his lap was toying with a strand of his hair while looking into his eyes. Her shoulder was still bare from the strap that fell off it.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way.” Richie didn’t think he could help himself any longer with the sultry way she was speaking and the fact that she was on his lap. “Now I can do this.” 

y/n placed a tender kiss to the awestruck boy’s lips. It was slow and steady. She didn’t want to mess things up since they had just admitted their feelings to one another. 

But Richie was impatient. 

As soon as she pulled away, he connected his lips to hers again. He was sloppy and fast paced with his movements, yet still full of passion. 

y/n giggled into his mouth which caused Richie’s heart to skip a beat. She’d been waiting for this moment since she first laid eyes on him. 

The first time Richie stepped foot into the Uris household, y/n had greeted him excitedly. 

“y/n could you get that!” Stan shouted to her from their den. He was busy setting up board games, making sure every last piece was in its designated place. 

“Why do I have to?” y/n grumbled, still walking out of her room so she could get to the door anyway. “You were closer.” 

“I’m preparing for game night. This is the first time my friends are coming over and I want everything to be suitable.” Stan was polishing the game pieces now. 

“I don’t think your friends will mind if one of your little thing-a-ma-bobs is out of place.” y/n jokingly tipped over one of the players to Stanley’s game that he had already put into place but she quickly put it back upon noticing the discontent that marked his face as she did so. 

“I’ll mind.” Her brother replied calmly. 

Another knock at the door. 

“Can you please get that?” 

y/n got up and walked over to the door. She was first met with a lanky boy whose legs were too long for his torso and eyes were too big for his face. 

She didn’t expect Stan’s friends to be hot. 

“Hi!” y/n exclaimed, hoping to give off a good impression on the group.

“I didn’t know Stan had an underaged maid. I guess the Uris’ will do anything for labor work.” No one laughed at Richies joke. 

“That’s Stan’s sister, dipwad,” Eddie said, disgusted at his friend. 

Richie made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and the group shuffled in, meeting Stan in the den. 

“Stan you never told me you had a hottie for a sister.” y/n could hear Richie’s voice from across the hall. Her intestines turned into butterflies and she could pass for a canary with how red her face had gotten. 

But despite having the hugest crush on Richie, y/n never shared any classes with the boy. She was a year younger than Stan, but in the same grade as him because of the accelerated classes she took. So y/n had to admire from afar. 

Well, not anymore. 

Her lips were now attached to his neck, eliciting a moan from him. She smirked at that and started to roll her hips against his. Her name fell from his lips over and over and over again which evoked her to keep going. 

“Richie!?” An angered voice called from the outside of his car. 

It was the one and only. Stanley Uris. 

It was too late to act fast. Richie pulled y/n off him and looked guiltily out the window to see the face that matched the voice. 

But Richie already knew who it was. 

“Who me? I dink you ghat de wrahng goey.” Richie did his best Irish man accent but it was no use. 

“Okay, Richie, cut the crap.” Stan’s face was twisted up in an expression that almost scared Richie. His hands were folded against his chest and he was waiting for an answer. 

Richie simply couldn’t bring himself to answer the boy. He sat in shame with y/n next to him staring at her brother. Richie may as well have had ‘I’M SORRY’ written on his forehead with the way he was gaping at Stan.  

“y/n get out of the car.” Stan said, breaking eye contact with his friend. 

The girl complied, whispering about how sorry she was to the boy who drove her home before getting out. After that, she didn’t dare glance back at him in his car and Richie didn’t have the energy to even look anywhere besides the steering wheel. 

That was last week. Since then, Stan and Richie hadn’t said a word to each other. Richie hadn’t spoken to y/n since then either. The tension was too thick between Stan and Richie and Richie didn’t want to mess things up more than he already did. 

“I c-cuh-can’t believe yo-you liked y/n.” Bill chuckled. 

It was after school and the two were in the library. The details of what happened that day eventually got out. Both Stan and Richie had told their sides of the story and the losers were respectful enough to not take sides. They just hung out with Richie when Stan wasn’t around and hung out with Stan when Richie wasn’t there. 

“What’s so bad about that?” Richie looked skeptically at his friend, trying his best to defend himself. 

“I mean, yea-yeah sh-sh-she’s cute—”

“She’s beautiful.” Richie cut off but Bill rolled his eyes. 

“What-h-ever. I-it’s just funny tha-hat you wuh-would go after her.” 

“I already told you she kissed me first.” Richie proclaimed, a little too proudly. 

“Sh-he’s Stan’s sister!” That was true. 

“And a good kisser.” That was also true. 

“Gross, Richie.” Bill returned to the book in front of him, but Richie kept egging on the conversation. 

“I don’t see why someone has to be off limits just because they’re related to a friend.” His annoyed tone was evident and Bill gave him a sympathetic look. 

“It-t’s b-ba-basically written in th-the br-r-ro code.” Bill paused for a moment and Richie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed of his stuttering or if he was gathering his thoughts. “But i-i-if you li-li-like her… wh-who am I to s-suh-say any-th-thing.” 

If Bill was insinuating what Richie thought he was, then that made him cooler than he already was. 

And that’s how Richie found himself in y/n’s room Friday night. The losers were meeting up at the Aladdin to see the new Jim Carrey movie and somehow Richie had been able to get himself out of it, claiming he was overdue on chores and couldn’t make it. 

“Th-that’s t-too bad, R-Rich.” Bill said over the phone (but he knew better) while the other losers pressed their ear up against it, listening in. “The c-co-omedy should be ri-right up your alley.” 

“Dumb and underdeveloped?” Eddie asked Bill. “I don’t wanna see a movie just to hate it,” he complained. 

“Yowza, Eds. And I thought you appreciated my jokes.” Richie feigned hurt over the speaker. “Anywho, I gotta make like a tree and hang up. The ‘rents are asking for me.” They weren’t. 

“O-okay. Maybe nuh-nuh-next wee—” Beep. 

Richie had already hung up. 

y/n grabbed his hand, which was clamped over her mouth and took it off. She was bursting to the seams with laughter. 

“I can’t believe you’re a liar now,” she tsked, trying to fake an ‘I’m-not-mad-at-you-just-disappointed’ look that her English teacher had given her once. 

“Only under these circumstances.” He was fast to attach his lips to hers. They didn’t have much time and he wanted to make the most of what they had now. 

Richie was on top of her now, his lips still on hers. He kissed her everywhere from the crown of her head to the crook of her neck. If his kisses left a print, her skin would be buried under them. 

“Rich…” She sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering from the pleasure he inflicted on her when he had found a sweet spot behind her ear. y/n kissed him back hard with force and a sort of dominance Richie didn’t know she had in her. 

She flipped them, so that she was on top now. y/n took this liberty of having full control to take off her shirt and Richie’s as well. 

Richie smirked and began to kiss lower. His pace was slower than he originally started. Painstakingly slow. y/n wined at how delicate his lips felt tracing her skin but she needed more. 

“Touch me,” she urged. Richie obeyed, his hands were now on her chest, massaging and caressing her delicate skin. 

There weren’t enough words to describe the thrill and satisfaction Richie gave her. y/n could relish in this boy’s embrace forever with how good he made her feel. She began grinding against his jeans, just like the day they were caught by Stanley, so she could ease the ache for him between his legs. 

Richie chuckled, feeling her press against him. He knew precisely what she wanted but to give or not to give in was the question. 

“y/n/n, we don’t have that long,” He warned. 

“I don’t care.” She started peppering his face in kisses the same way he had done to her. At the same time, she began to unbutton his jeans. Who would Richie be to turn down sex anyway? 

She was fast at getting him inside her. Definitely not inexperienced. But Richie didn’t want fast. Not with y/n, at least. He wanted their first together to be slow, sensual, special—

“You’re amazing,” he grunted and she blushed in response. 

Her pace quickened at his praise. Their movements together felt electric and y/n herself was so hypnotic, Richie felt he could get lost in the thought—or the feeling —of her forever. 

A feeling that was indescribable washed over Richie once the two of them were finished. He had stayed inside of her, and y/n was now laying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and tracing circles on his skin with her thumb. Their chests rose and fell together at the same time, a small action that Richie melted at the sight of. 

“For the record, I didn’t want it to happen like this,” Richie said. There was a sort of fear palpable in his tone. 

“For the record, you kissed me first.” y/n eyed him suspiciously before giving him a peck on the cheek. “And what does that mean? Did you…” She shyly decided on her words for a moment. “Did you not want to..?” 

“No, no, no, no.” Richie immediately counteracted the girl’s suggestion. “I so wanted to do this. I’ve dreamed about doing this—” Richie stopped himself before his talking could make things worse, but y/n found his rambling amusing. 

“So, what did you mean?” y/n tried again. She reached out to hold his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. 

“I mean.” He let out a sigh before continuing. “I wanted us to be, like, an official couple and shit before we do this shit.” He motioned between them and to where they were still joined. 

y/n flushed at the sight and covered her face. 

“Hey.” Richie was soft. Softer than y/n had ever seen him be. He took her wrists in his hands, uncovering her face so he could admire her. 

She was stunning even after sex. 

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” He was almost embarrassed to admit it, but with y/n he didn’t feel the need to be afraid. “I want us to go on dates and hold hands and tell each other about our day.” He was looking at the ceiling, daydreaming at the thought.

y/n’s eyes searched his face thoughtfully. “Of course, Rich. I want that, too!” She kissed his lips once more, elated at the boy in front of her. Her face fell shortly after she had a sudden understanding. “What’re you gonna do about Stan?” 

“Who’s Stan?” But Richie’s fake grin wasn’t fooling anyone. “Uh, well, we could tell him…” But when Richie saw a certain uneasiness consume y/n’s face, he ruled that option out. “How do you feel about dating in secret?” He offered. The situation wasn’t ideal, but at the time it seemed to be the lesser of the two evils at hand. 

“Okay,” y/n whispered. “So you should leave.” 

“Woah, babe, I just got here.” Richie sat up, looking for his shirt. 

“Yeah, but the movie should’ve ended by now.” y/n gestured towards the alarm clock on her nightstand causing Richie’s jaw to drop. 

He was heading towards the window now, knowing he had enough time to get out, but he wanted to be careful. 

“See you tomorrow then?” y/n giggled at how clingy he could be. 

“I’ll call you.” And Richie just couldn’t get enough of the smile she was wearing. 

“Sounds like a date!” He yelled from outside her house. 

During the drive home, Richie’s thoughts became lost in y/n once again. This was just the beginning.

[aahsokaatano]

King I would love that essay about Changing Channels

Fjdjshjdhdjd thanks for reading my tags Jesse you're the real VIP here.

Okay SO "Changing Channels" is the 8th episode of the 5th season of Supernatural. I give this information bc it's important in looking at the context of the episode - now I've complained a LOT about how SPN is terrible at giving us canonical timeframes within the episodes (y'all i was SHOCKED to discover the first season is supposed to cover a little over a year's worth of time, I thought it was like... 4 or 5 months) so I can't say for sure how long before and after the other episodes happen in-universe around "Changing Channels" BUT

The episode before is "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" where Dean and Bobby bet years of their lives in a game of poker with a witch. The episode after is "The Real Ghostbusters" where Sam and Dean end up at a fan convention for the in-universe Supernatural novels.

Why am I pointing this out? Because it's important, please, no audience participation, this is like a Brian David Gilbert panel.

[under a cut bc this got...... STUPID long. Who knew I still had this many opinions about SPN in 2020?]

Okay first of all I wanna talk about the cinnamon topography of this episode - I love the way the first 5 seasons are shot because you really feel the americana gothic horror aesthetic they were going for (I have a whole ‘nother rant about the first 5 seasons vs the last 10 but thats for another time). Everything is a little washed out and grey-toned, the camera angles generally serve to make Sam and Dean appear even taller than they actually are (larger than life - again, another post for another time), and there’s honestly a LOT of shots from the ‘monster’s’ perspective, which is really neat! I’ve said it before (on another blog - YES i have a dedicated spn rant blog, don’t @ me hdjfhfjfh) but the episode that really got me hooked on spn back in the day was the second one, about the w*ndigo. Yes, it’s a racist, culturally appropriating shitstorm, but the way its SHOT is fantastic. I’m honestly not a horror fan, but that episode could have easily relied on jumpscares and they DIDN’T and it was scary as all fucking hell and just - fuck okay getting off topic. 

In “Changing Channels” we get that distinctive grey-washed tone in the beginning and the very end of the episode, but the middle? When they’re in TV Land? Everything is bright. Almost comically so, I mean - okay look at these two shots of Sam (apologies about the crappy phone pics, netflix won't let me screenshot)

This one is from the start of the episode, in the "real" police station

And this is from a little later in the "TV" hospital

Ignoring that my phone is washing him out a lot in both pics, you can still see the warmer tones in the hospital shot as compared to the cold greyness in the police station one

Okay, now look at this picture

Dean inside the Impala, and those warm tones are back. Why? Because even though Sam and Dean believe that they’re back in the “real” world, they aren’t - so instead of the grey-washed shots that we’re used to, its the bright and warm shots that we see in “TV Land”! So the viewers pick up, even if its just subconsciously, that the boys aren’t out of the woods yet - everything is still too bright to be the in-universe reality we’ve come to expect from SPN by season 5

Which is also why i love this shift so much

These shots are literally SECONDS apart. The first is in "TV Land" and the second is in the "real" world. I have some red strip lights behind my bed, which are reflecting off my laptop screen - notice how much brighter they seem in the second picture? That’s because literally all of the warm colors have been drained out of the shot. As soon as Gabriel snaps them all back into “reality,” things get so much colder.

Okay, so the second thing I want to talk about is some of the very pointed dialogue choices within the “shows” the Winchesters take part in. Not between Sam and Dan and Gabriel, but from the, for lack of a better term, NPCs within the shows.

In the hospital, Dr. Piccolo tells Sam that he is “the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your table; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.” Standard cheesy soap opera dialogue - but lemme just swap some words here and - 

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your hunt; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.”

Or even - 

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So Jessica and Mary died above you; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault [but Azazel’s]. Sometimes people just die.”

Keeping in mind that the NPCs are basically Gabriel’s mouthpieces, its easy to see why so many people ship Sabriel. I’d actually love to see a fic that explores them talking about this moment in particular later on and the kind of gentle forgiveness that Gabriel can give Sam... getting off topic again.

In an abrupt about-face, the herpes commercial (much meme’d within the fandom) is straight up Gabriel shaming Sam. Because if you replace “genital herpes” with “demon blood” it’s.... dark. And very intentional.

So that’s what I did! (I combined all spoken lines to make the message easier to read, rather than splitting them up across 3 speakers as in the episode)

“I’ve drank demon blood. I tried to be responsible... did I try. But now, after being forcibly detoxed, I fight my addiction every day to reduce the chances of passing back into that toxic mindset. Ask your loved ones about a demon blood intervention today. [...] I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the chance of drinking demon blood again. And that’s a good thing.”

Like... the subtext throughout this episode sure is. Something.

Okay this is getting ridiculously long so I wanna wrap up by talking about The Best Scene In The Whole Goddamn Show

I’m talking, of course, about Gabriel’s Confession

“Max,” you might be saying, “there are so many better scenes out there, even within the first five seasons!” and to that i say, again, no audience participation, please. Also, you’re WRONG and here’s why!

Gabriel’s confession hits every goddamn emotional chord that the fandom begged for on this show - fear, rage, grief, pain, guilt, and even, yes, absolution. 

Okay, here’s the scene again for those of you who don’t think about it at least once a week like me

Now this video is missing some of the conversation, but most of it is there, enough for you to see what I’m talking about. Gabriel up to this point has been, essentially, a nameless antagonist - this is the third episode he appeared in, and before this, we didn’t even know he was going by Loki. He was just referred to as ‘The Trickster’. But here, not only do we get a name (a real name at that), but we also get a glimpse of his backstory and a hell of a lot of character development in less than 5 minutes. I mean, Sam didn’t get this much character development throughout the entirety of season 1! There’s a good reason Gabriel has been a fan-favorite for a very long time, and I think a big part of it is this particular scene.

Because here, we get to see Gabriel being vulnerable. And we even see Dean show a little vulnerability, as he can empathize being the third party to explosive arguments between the two people who mean everything to him.

I mean... okay, it will never see the light of day, but I wrote a little bit of a Reverse ‘Verse fic (because I’m a sucker for Reverse ‘Verse) and this was the scene I started with. Not s1e1, not even the resurrection in s4e1, but this scene. Because this scene, more than any other, is critical to the way not only Gabriel’s (first) arc plays out, but also to how Sam and Dean conduct themselves for the rest of the season (and maybe a bit beyond, it’s been a hot minute since I watched s6 and later). Dean is angry but determined, he has a point to make, he is going to save Sammy and if he can’t do that, then he’s going to damn well die trying. But Sam... it’s after this episode that we start really seeing how bone-achingly tired Sam is. It’s after this conversation - where one of the other archangels, one of the few beings who can truly understand how powerful Michael and Lucifer are - says that there’s no other way around this that Sam seems to start inching towards giving in. Saying yes.

Sure, in the actual episode, he seems outraged by the idea, practically scoffs at it - “you want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” - but it’s after this where Sam really seems run down.

I mean, look at the episodes before and after (HAH you thought I forgot about that first point I made at the very beginning of this post! I did, briefly, but I’ve circled back to it, thanks for being understanding). In “The Curious Case of Dean Winchester,” Sam behaves much as he did since the start of s4, which is to say, ‘annoying little know-it-all brother tossed into the middle of the apocalypse and just trying his best’ and it works well for the mad scramble for any scrap of information that’s happening in s4/early s5.

But in “The Real Ghostbusters” it’s different. This is another funny meta episode - except, while Sam and Dean are technically aware of the joke, they aren’t as amused by it as the audience is. And it’s not because of the ghosts. It’s because they’re just... done. Especially Sam. Dean has that nice little moment with the cosplayers at the end of the episode, but Sam... threatens to shoot Chuck. Sam ‘goes darkside’ more often than pretty much any other character in the show, but that moment is different. It’s a flat promise, not a threat. He’s not being an asshole, like he is after losing his soul. He’s just... done. And it’s obvious to see.

Gabriel’s confession is the turning point for Sam in s5, and it informs a lot of his behavior through the rest of s5, and possibly beyond! Like I said, I haven’t watched past s5 in a very long time, so I don’t feel confident enough to analyze that specific sort of character line, but I feel confident in saying that hearing one of the most powerful beings in the universe basically say “it doesn’t matter what you do - your destiny is unavoidable” and then he’s proven right (Sam says yes to Lucifer, and Dean eventually does say yes to Michael down the line!)... like, that’s really gotta fuck up your world view that was built on free will and throwing off the shackles of fate. Sam managed to avoid his ‘destiny’ in s2... but then it turns out that that wasn’t ever his destiny. Lucifer was his destiny.

Talk about an obscured view of the inner self.

[angelkurenai]

His Princess - Chris Evans x Reader

Title: His Princess

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hello!! I’m so happy your requests are open again! Can you write Chris Evans going on set to his gf’s music video of "Beauty and the Beast" (w/ John Legend) and he’s so happy to date a «princess» please?

“Alright, one more for the net. Just stay like that, you look wonderful!”

You couldn't help but giggle at the enthusiasm of the young assistant. What with your manager being unable to show up any of the days of the filming the way she normally would and her always wanting you to have someone with you all the time besides bodyguards, make up artists and stylists that would be there more as a friend than anything else. And so her assistant was yours for the week as well, and you would be lying if you said you weren't already having great fun just by being around her. Not to mention the excitement of being on the set itself and living the dream quiet literally already had you grinning the whole day long as you skipped around the place.

“Alright, is this good?” you asked, resting your chin on your palm, nearly kneeling down on the floor so that the dress looked more like a flower that had enveloped you whole. The maroon color only a great contrast against the white walls of the small room and the lights shining over your diamonds jewellery.

“That's perfect, yes!” she nearly squealed, snapping another photo that made you laugh “Alright, I'm pretty sure we've got more than plenty of photos and videos now. I'm gonna get out of your hair now and see what little I can post to tease the fans. Oh and Eric left the gloves on the chair in the corner. He said it would be best if you wore them because they wanted to run a few tests with cameras and see if they will keep them or not in the end.”

“Alright, Coco, don't worry. I've got this.” you nodded your head, already picking up the fabric and slipping it through your fingers “See you in a couple minutes!”

It wasn't long before you were left in your own devices by the assistant and a calm silence fell in the room. You looked at your reflection, fixing your gloves and dress you hummed the tune of the song.

Taking your phone you scrolled through your feed, one last time before you went to work, only to soon take notice of the photos that had already been uploaded by Coco and grinned widely when you saw that some of your friends had already commented, earning a soft laugh from you as you went through them. Most of them already knew about the filming you were doing for the song of the new Beauty and The Beast movie. You had been overly excited both about the opportunity to sing the song itself – alongside none other than John Legend at that – and even more film the music video. You were so thrilled even before you got started, there was no stopping you from telling your friends everything about it even before you got started.

After so many years in the music industry, so many worldwide tours and music videos and albums later, and more than just a few in the movie industry as well you had seen and experienced so many things and yet you still got so excited over the most simple projects. Much like this one, there was not a single thing you didn't look forward to. At first you were sure it was going to be in a unique location but it was a totally different thing getting to actually see it, especially when you realized that most of it was real and not just a green screen. So with a beautiful set, dressed quiet literally like a princess it was impossible for it all to not feel like a fairytale and have you enticed even before you got started.

“Disney princess or the new Queen of Asgard? Easily both!” Chris Hemsworth had commented.

“Could have not said it better, Chris! What would a King be without her Queen after all?” Tessa comments made you grin.

“Safe to say, running Marvel and Disney has never looked more classy!” it was one from RDJ.

“And then they said not to believe in fairytales. Looking stunning as ever! If you wanna switch up a Captain, I'm always available!” your friend's comment made you laugh and you made a mental note to reply to Brie the second you got the chance to.

“Alright, so what petition do I need to sign to have them make this a live-action Disney movie now?” Liz Olsen with a great variety of emojis.

You couldn't help your smile all the while you scrolled down the comments, seeing many more not just from costars, friends or other celebrities and plenty from fans; but it was all the while a bit too tight. It didn't reach your eyes, certainly not the more you looked and found no comment from your boyfriend. You knew you shouldn't hold it against him but part of you couldn't help but feel the first waves of sadness wash over your soul. Mainly because he was the one that knew most about this song and video clip, how nervous and excited you had been from the first moment; it felt like he had been with you the whole way through all of it and therefore you wanted him to see this too, even if it was only part of what was to come.

On one hand the fact that he was such a big Disney fan was no secret either and it had always made your eagerness to see his reaction to this grow even more. And on the other, loving the man so much meant that his compliments always held a different, much more big, significance to you. Maybe, you realised slowly as you dwelled on it more, it also had a lot to do with the way he said everything. There was always so much emotion in them, such great love and admiration and adoration and every other beautiful feeling he felt for you, showing through not only his words but also his eyes, expression and touches that after all these years you had learned to picture even when he was not close to you.

You decided not to think any more of it, realising that he surely had work to do and it would be better if you focused on it. The fact that you missed said man because you had not seen him in over week due to said work completely put aside.

Setting your phone aside you started making some final checks on your dress and looks, getting the feel of it as you signed softly to yourself “Tale as old as time. True as it can be. Barely even friends, than somebody bends-”

“Unexpectedly.” the singing was soft in your ear, the breath fanning over your cheek and bare neck before a pair of arms sneaked around your waist and a pair of lips were pressed on your neck, making shivers run down your entire spine with such intensity you couldn't hold back a gasp. When a squeeze came next you didn't even have the time react because his one hand slid up to your arm and rested on your shoulders, drawing the familiar goosebumps you had so missed the past couple days.

You would have leaned back into the firm broad chest, the action as natural as blinking. Every curve and edge of your body always seemed to fit perfectly with his no matter the position and you would be a big liar if you said your body was already reacting to his touch. Your heart with its unruly heartbeat – one that easily matched his – and your lungs refusing to take in a deep breath as the pleasant warmth spread through hands around you were easily a sign of who it was, every cell in your recognizing the contact.

Your eyes widened and your vision nearly blurred as you turned around to face the man you had not even realized was there but could recognize even with your eyes completely closed. “Chris?”

“Your highness.” his smile got even bigger when you turned to lock eyes with his and oh wasn't that a sight to make your entire day worth it, if anything making all of your worries and fears disappear. His eyes were so soft, filled with so much adoration and almost sparkling in a way you had not seen before.

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, unable to believe he was there, looking at you so lovingly. His hands were cupping your face and only when you heard him whisper “Hello, my love.” did reality dawn on you. Realizing it wasn't a dream you almost squealed before you jumped in his arms, wrapping yours around his shoulders. Earning a deep chuckle that made his chest ramble, you couldn't hold your own laughter when you felt it against your own chest.

“Oh my gosh.” you choked out, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to force yourself not to cry “Chris.” you pulled just slightly away to look into his eyes, cupping his face in both your hands. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking everything in as it felt nearly impossible to believe this was happening. You leaned in to press your lips to his in an urgent kiss that still earned a soft laugh from him. You let out a soft breath when you pulled away and as you rested your forehead against his you repeated “Chris.” and he smiled even more widely “You're here. How?”

“Do you really question that? I would travel from the other side of the world for you.” and his smile turned into a small smirk “Isn't that what a prince always does?”

“Why-” your smile turned more into a smirk as you slowly started pulling away, despite the small sound of protest that came from his lips “I didn't know you were officially my prince charming. That is a title that must be earned, is it not?”

“And it would be my greatest honor to...” he started with a small smirk of his own which eventually faded much like his words as he fully took in the sight of you in the beautiful gown, with the jewelry and gloves adorning the whole look, you realised he was completely at a loss for words.

“Well, seeing as you didn't see the photos posted on instagram yet, I'll ask now: How do I look?” you probably already looked confident enough but that didn't mean you didn't want to hear his opinion more than anybody else's.

“Dear” his eyes were wide as he took everything in “Marry me already.”

And as you expected it wasn't he words, or at least not only the words, which made your heart leap to your throat. It was the pure love and awe that filled his eyes, his smile brighter than you had ever seen it. It was the way his voice became low, almost hoarse as if his throat closed from the overwhelming emotion in his chest. It was the way he reached out for you again and slowly traced his fingers over yoru cheek, touch light as a feather, as if he feared to break you. In his eyes you saw you were more than just a fragile porcelain doll, way more important and precious to him than anything actually.

“I'm fairly sure I wouldn't mind the idea, however, should you not do something heroic to say the least to earn that right? To have the hand of a princess and even more her heart, that requires more effort, don't you think?” you said with a smirk and he chuckled before straightening his back.

“Why, your highness, had I known you'd be so open to the idea I'd have brought the ring with me. It has been tucked in the back of my drawer for too long, I fear.” he said it so casually and truthfully, without a hint of pretend for the sake of the small momentary fairytale you were living through, that it made you pause for a second to hold your breath and blink at him.

Too caught up with your own thoughts you didn't even have the chance to question anything when he spoke again. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he slowly took both your hands in his, the act slipping for the moment, as he whispered again “My gosh, you look stunning. How did I ever get so lucky in my life?”

“It's no big deal.” you felt bashful all of a sudden and you were well aware it was because of the way your heart had sped up at the thought of said ring which he had joked about a long time ago but not in this way, not with such underlacedhonesty and seriousness.

“No big deal?” his eyebrows raised “I'm standing in front of the most beautiful disney princess to ever exist, both on the inside and on the outside. And on top of it all she is my girl and only mine. I'd say I don't deserve this kind of love but who am I to judge? My ideal fairytale I coming to life, this is too good to be true and yet it is. I'll take whatever you have to give me and offer everything I can in return. Who knows-” he pulled away, you not having realized when his forehead had come to rest against yours “Maybe I'll do a job good enough or the ring will be impressive enough to make at least a bit something like a prince charming.”

The wink he sent your way earned a laugh from your own lips, easing some of the tense feeling in your chest. You realised there was no reason to dwell on it or overstress it, not at the moment, so you let your smile become more easy if not more teasing “I'm sure you'd have plenty to offer, my kind sir. But first, if only in order for a proper courtship, you must have to catch me, don't you?”

“I must wha-” he started but all words died on his lips. You were sure he had already caught up somehow, the glint in his eyes telling you as much, but didn't give him the chance to fully question it before you were already pulling away from him and with a wink, opening the door and sprinting down the long hallway.

You heard the deep laugh, filling the entire hallway and with only the smallest glance over your shoulder you saw the man start to follow you fast enough. Grinning you picked up your dress and with that, picked up your pace so that you were running. As if the feeling of the dress bouncing around like a soft cloud, the air warm inside the building but present nonetheless - not only because of the running but also because of the studio you were fast approaching and that you remembered had more than a few doors and windows – wasn't enough to make you laugh, hearing your boyfriend's laughter as he tried to catch you get louder made you feel as if you were flying more than running.

“(Y/n)? What are you-”

You recognised the voice immediately but didn't have the time to reply let alone stop for even a second when you heard Chris get closer “Can't talk now Chrissy, I gotta go! Ah!” you actually yelped – or perhaps it was her, though the laughter that came next were surely hers when your boyfriend nearly bumped into John's wife and his apologies were the proof because you didn't turn to see – before you quickly run around a corner and down some stairs.

It wasn't even a couple seconds later that you found yourself running inside the studio itself, the cameras all around as the crew was setting everything up for the filming. You almost got so carried away by the entire place, many things having been added since the morning when you first showed up, and in the middle of admiring the realistic set of a castle they had managed to build. You were sure if you had not been in any hurry, you could have easily spent hours wanderingaround the place and admiring the detailed work, getting lost in a daydream much like a fairytale. But, again, you were in a hurry and as you felt the first fingers slip over your waist, aside from earning a small yelp from you they managed to get you moving again, or more specifically running.

“You have to be faster than that, darling.” you grinned, rounding the piano so that you were on the one side and he on the other.

“Who says I am being nearly half as fast as I can really be? Who says that if I really wanted to I wouldn't already have my hands on you?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you that made you giggle “I am merely being your perfect prince charming.”

“Alright, first; I like the sound of that but it's not going to make me give in just yet. And second; we both know that you're just being a sore loser here. You haven't caught me yet not because you can't. You're also a sore looser, not a prince charming, dear.”

He groaned, placing a hand over his chest “Another wound, all within the span of only a couple minutes. How do I survive this? Oh yes, in fairytales, a kiss always always does wonders, doesn't I? If only my princess would be kind enough to not run away from me anymore and instead save my life?”

You had to admit that although he was being both dramatic and cheeky, and you had to keep serious, you couldn't hold back your wide smile as you spoke “For starters, you will have to earn it. And-” you paused, jumping away as he made a move to run around the piano but you were fast to get away so that you had now swapped places “If I may ask, what's the first one?”

“Wouldn't you know? As if you can't see my bleeding heart which has been struck worse today at seeing you like this. But-” another jump that got him dangerously close “I suppose if I can't get a kiss, I will make it my last wish that you wear a similar dress soon.” his words made you frown until he added “Only in total white. And really, the soonest possible so we should probably start making a guests list.”

“Chris” you caught yourself pausing, longer than expected and than should be right in this case but you felt like you had no control of your body at the moment “This is not a funny joke anymore.”

“Who said it was one in the first place?” he asked, and you could swear you heard Chrissy and John gasp softly in the background. At some point you had even seen them but now your entire mind was blank. You focused on Chris, his voice much softer than before, his posture having relaxed as if to let you know he wasn't playing any game of sorts “And maybe-” he took a slow tentative step towards you, eyes on you to judge your reaction all the time. When he saw you didn't move away from him, he took more steps closer to you “If you'd let me, I could show you real soon that I was serious from the first moment.”

“Wha-” but you stopped yourself because you knew that wasn't the answer you wanted so bad to ask, it wasn't the one your heart longed for to be answered so instead you whispered “How?”

Chris leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, extending a hand which you took before he said another hing “First, I believe it's best if you get to job as fast as possible. And for that to happen, it would be right of me to stop playing around. So, what do you say we start things the way only in fairytales they do: a dance?”

“It doesn't necessarily happen in this order but-” you smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see John and his wife do the same, the music having only second now starting to play “I think we've already found the perfect song, so why not?”

“Think of it... as practice.”

[rightsockjin]

Strawberries and Rose Perfume

Summary: Namjoon just wanted to look at the night sky while you were getting ready to go on a date. What he didn’t count on was how breath taking you looked wearing your strawberry lipgloss and rose scented perfume. What he also didn’t count on was you complete hatred of stepping barefoot on grass.

Rating: K

Genre: Fluff

Word count:4,347

Warnings: No warnings I think? Namjoon is just helplessly in love with reader. If fluff makes you gag then maybe skip it. It’s so sugary that Joon would probably eat this story raw. (In case you don’t know, he loves sugar)

-Admin Kim

“Joon, I don’t know which shoes to wear,” she said from the sliding door that led into my apartment. Her playlist was playing softly in the background. Her voice wafted towards me like a melody. One which I could write lyrics to endlessly. Soothing and comforting, albeit a bit annoying. If there was one line that seemed to describe her it would be what she’d just said.

“I don’t know what shoes to wear.”

Well that and “Joon, I lost my phone-glasses-wallet - purse-ect.”

I chuckled to myself. She may be frustrating, but I knew that I wouldn’t want to deal with any other girl than her. It was never a chore, though I liked to make it seem like it was, sometimes just for the fun of it. I’d roll my eyes and “reluctantly” follow her around while doing none of the work. I’d watch her search the same places that she supposedly already searched, try on the shoes that she’d already considered and wait until she either found her missing object or picked a pair. Only then did I give my input. Usually, this would annoy her but it was a playful angst. It would end in a laugh from both of us and her unasked questions answered.

Today, this moment, could be one of those, and I intended it to be. I looked over my shoulder, away from the starry night sky, eye roll at the ready, a chastising smirk plastered on my lips, but it was whipped almost instantly as my gaze fell on her.

It wasn’t a secret that she was beautiful, gorgeous, the object of my affection and a woman that only truly seemed to exist in literature and romantic movies but in that moment, under the night sky and the spotlight of the moon she was all that and yet it wasn’t enough to describe it. Her hair fell past her shoulders in elegant curls, sleeked with what I assumed was the strawberry hair oil that I loved on her. Her long bangs undulated almost impossibly to the right. Often, I would compare her to the sweet faced bomb-shell women of the fifties and sixties. Innocent looking with just the right amount of moxy sex appeal that could drive, and has driven me on multiple occasions, a man mad.

It wasn’t even that she was showing skin or the shortness of her skirt, because the dress she wore was neither revealing or cut inappropriately. No, it was the way that the Champagne chiffon hugged her figure nearly like a second skin. The skirt, ruffled subtly and flared just above her knees. The miles of silky, pearlescent legs that I could trek through  without a single drink of water until reaching the oasis that lay at the end seemed to taunt me. Her feet were bare and I could barely make out a pink glimmer from her manicured toes. Attached to her delicate fingers were two different heels. One, a stiletto and the other a wedge. Both were a soft brownish rose color that would go well with the floral design on the bodice of her dress. Both were suitable but I knew she wanted to wear the former. The wedges were her safety shoe. This was her way of asking if she would have to walk a lot.

It was moments like right then that I realized how well I felt I knew her… Her quirks. ��Her mannerisms. The way she’d bite her lips when I didn’t give an immediate answer. Her reflex to cover the silence with explanations and conversations. I was never one for the mystical but, like a psychic, I could predict her every move in the immediate future.

“I just don’t know if I can handle walking very far in these,” she started holding up the four inch heels in her right hand, “but these might be a little too informal? If we don’t have to walk a lot then I thought I’d wear-”

There she went. Speaking about shoes as if her words would register in my brain then. She spoke a lot, a quirk that seemed to fit quite well with my own comfort zone of speaking only when I felt it necessary. She spoke without limit, without embarrassment or resentment. She sometimes spoke as if she would never be able to speak again and I loved to sit and listen to her. She could be talking about paint drying- and she had before as she enjoyed painting and she was always debating about what type of primer to use or if oil was better than paint thinner- and I was enthralled, but the way that the light from the living room seemed to give her an ethereal glow seemed to have made me deaf.

Blessed were the men who could see her now, and I was one of them. The only one in fact, to see her right then, in this state somewhere between ready to go and still fixing herself up. There was a light glimmer to her lips that were rapidly moving. A sparkle from her cupid’s bow and the tip of her nose. I could smell the rose perfume she liked to wear all the way to where I stood. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and I realized that she’d stopped talking at some point as I unabashedly checked her out.

It was then that I also realized that I still had my back to her and I became aware that my mouth was hanging open slightly. I cleared my throat subtly and turned my body fully to face her. Like the angel that she was, she simply stood on the wooden patio and waited for a response to whatever she had just probably explained in full detail that I had disregarded unintentionally. A wave of fear flushed through my veins. She didn’t take kindly to being ignored and even though I hadn’t meant to, it would probably hurt her feelings that I hadn’t listened.

She smiled awkwardly as I blinked at her Bambi-like eyes searching for the answer that she wanted. This, I soon realized, was a terrible idea. Her eyes were like twin black holes in which their gravity seemed inescapable and unavoidable. Beautiful and deep. I would have gladly jumped into them without regards for what would happen if I did. Maybe it was the way that she did her eye shadow or the eyeliner or the way her lashes fluttered in the night’s breeze, but they seemed brighter. The color of them accentuated with the slight blush of her eyelids. Absolutely perfect. This is what that word referred to. It wasn’t an equation, or a term, it was her. She was absolute perfection.

“Joonie, not to rush your thought process but it’s kind of cold out here and we’re going to be late to the reservation…”

This broke my concentration on the windows to her soul instantly. I shook my head to try to keep the fog that was my girlfriend from blurring my thoughts.

“I’m sorry Love,” I heard my voice say in English, “come over here.”

She quirked a dark eyebrow and glanced at the grass between myself and her then at her bare feet.  I held out a hand for her to take and smiled reassuringly. Still, she glanced at the grass a bit reluctant but took four tentative steps towards me. I then employed my eye roll and smirk. She was such a-

“Princess,” I joked, a chuckle escaping my lips as her own turned up at the corners. The hand with the wedge shot up to her chest feigning hurt.

“I resent that sir,” she groaned.

“You are such a princess, y/n,” I confirmed taking another step closer to her and extending my other hand out as well. An invitation of sorts.

“You can barely stand on the patio barefoot without standing on your toes to avoid getting your feet dirty.”I glanced at her feet and true to my words, she was standing on what Jimin might call a releve but I would simply call tip toes. Her calf muscles popped out like they were sculpted from marble.

I watched her glance down as well. It was a habit she’d developed. Something she no longer realized she was doing. When she noticed what I had, she groaned in defeat but stayed on her toes to avoid touching the dirty ground. She let the shoes fall to her sides with a loud clatter. Her head lulled back. On instinct, I reached out in case she fell back but her balance, though she was nearly as clumsy as myself, was nearly impeccable.

“Okay fine, I’m a princess,” she straightened up, reaching for my extended arms, “sue me.”

There was less than an inch between the tips of her fingers and mine but I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. We locked eyes, I raised an eyebrow, a challenge which she pouted at before she took two more steps to the edge of the patio and our fingers touched.

I remembered the first time that we held hands. At that time, the slightest touch or glance sent my senses into overdrive and while even now, a glance from her picturesque eyes sent my brain and other areas on my being into a frenzy, it was much more manageable now. She was like a drug that I slowly became accustomed to. That was addicting to the point of ridiculous and yet I didn’t care. The comforting burn that her fingers sent to my heart felt like sitting by a campfire or a fireplace while I read. My heart still raced but it no longer made me panic. Instead, the adrenaline was the perfect high.

I wrapped my fingers around hers and felt just how cold her hands were. Like ice. I took another step towards her and held her hands between my own.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry. Your hands are really freezing,” I said, cupping them before my lips and blowing warm air into them. She scrunched her nose up in that way that she did where it reached her eyes. It was adorable. The warmth in my chest seemed to heat a bit more as I kissed her knuckles one by one. I watched her expression melt into something much softer. Her pink lips upturned once again.

“Yes, I am freezing so can you please just choose a pair of shoes so I can go back inside and finish fixing my hair?”

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at what I felt was flawless hair, then at her face to see if she was kidding, but I saw no signs of mirth.

“But,” I paused once again waiting for her to say she was joking, “your hair looks fine.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward a bit to rest her hands on the pads of my medium grey smart suit. I readjusted my hands onto her cinched waist and squeezed slightly as a reassurance that I had her. Always, forever, any time she needed me. I would be there to hold her up.

“Just fine won’t cut it when I’m around you.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at the ridiculousness of her statement. I knew that there was a certain level of put togetherness that was expected of myself and being with me made her feel like she too had to uphold them, but she did this without the amount of effort that she seemed to be exerting at this moment.

“You look more than just fine My Love,” I answered giving in and taking yet another step closer so that I could kiss her forehead, “You look breathtaking.”

She chuckled, letting her arms wrap around my neck. Her chest was pressed against mine and her ever tempting lips were centimeters from mine. I held myself at bay, instead busying my lips with a smile.

“You seem to still be breathing, Mr.Kim.”

Without a second thought, I dramatically filled my lungs with air and held my breath. My cheeks puffed out and eyes screwed shut, I made a show of swooning for my girlfriend. I heard her scoff at my antics but no sooner than her melismatic giggle hit my ear drums did her lips descend on my pursed ones in a small peck.

The sticky lip gloss on her lips stuck to mine as she pulled away. The scent of strawberries wafted up to my nose almost instantly. I couldn’t help but lick my lips, letting the breath I was holding escape my mouth.

“You are such a dork, Namjoon,” she giggled as I smacked my lips together to make sure I’d licked it all off.

“You know I love that lip gloss,” I commented, ignoring her comment.

“I do,” she confirmed tapping her nose on mine. Butterflies seemed to riot in my abdomen. Behind us, a Chet Baker song began to play, a slow jazzy tune that I remembered Taehyung playing multiple times once upon a time.

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

I bent my knees slightly and wrapped my arms just under her butt. She saw what was coming a second before I enacted my thoughts. I carried her off the patio and onto the grass, far enough that she’d have to take several steps to get back inside. Her head was slightly above mine so I had to look up. There was fear in her pretty eyes as she looked at the vast plot of green. The trees surrounding us served as cover from the rest of the world. If I let myself, I could believe it was just us in this world.

“Namjoon, take me back,” She groaned, hugging around my neck for support.

“Dance with me,” I argued, smiling at her. She was so cute when she was panicking.

“Namjoon,” she snapped as I tilted my head completely unbothered by her sharp tone, “I am very much bare foot and that is grass.”

“So?”

She sighed and buried her face in my neck. Her nose nuzzled into my pulse point. I couldn’t help but melt. The way that she seemed to fit into my side like she was the other half of a puzzle made up of us never failed to lighten my spirits. It was only in movies that I saw relationships like the one that I was living.

“So…” she scoffed, “You’re wearing your shoes already so you don’t have to worry about the dirt or insects. It’s unfair. Let me change into my shoes and then I’ll come back out and we can dance for a little.”

I held her closer, if that was even possible, and kissed her shoulder. I could breathe her in all day if she let me.

“I have a better idea,” I said turning back towards the fence I’d been facing when she first walked out and carefully set her down. Instantly, when her feet touched the blades of green foliage, she squealed and hopped from foot to foot as if it was stinging her.

I couldn’t help but laugh as she glared at me. She shoved me weakly on the shoulder with her petite hand which I caught by the wrist.

“Namjoon, I told you that I didn’t want to step on the grass! What if there’s ants or something?”

I pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers before I set her hand at her side.

“There aren’t any ants,” I assured as I kneeled down before her, beginning to untie my dress shoes. I could feel her gaze on my head. I knew what this must have looked like to her and I couldn’t help the slight guilt that gripped my heart at the thought of her expression.

“You’re not-”

I snapped my head up with an apologetic grimace, “No, I’m sorry I know what it looks like but no…”

There were tears in her beautiful eyes from the excitement of what she had hoped this was. They flowed over her rouged cheeks and onto her neck. I feared that they’d changed into tears of disappointment for a second before she began to laugh. I finished taking my shoes off as a relieved smile crossed my lips.

“Oh my God, you scared the crap out of me Namjoon,” she said between fits of giggles. She was prone to laughter in stressful situations. Was it inappropriate? Maybe. But it was her coping mechanism. I knew she must have been a little hurt.

I tossed my shoes and favorite pair of lucky socks aside as a fresh fear ran through my suddenly cold body. If I were to propose to her, would she have said no?

I straightened. A fake smile was plastered to my face as I let myself chuckle every now and again with her resounding laughter. She was doubled over, her tears coming in streams.

“I didn’t realize that you were so scared of marrying me,” I half joked as I stroked her back in what I hoped was a soothing motion. Though it was more to soothe me than it was her.

She took a deep breath, straightening her back so that she could look at me. Her left hand was covering her lips. Her eyes were scrunched nearly shut.

“I thought you wanted to propose to me,” she managed to say as she tried to calm her breathing. A couple of giggles punctuated her attempts but she was clearly calming down.

I waited patiently, my hands behind my back. She wiped a couple of stray tears from the apples of her cheeks. Even with this fear, I couldn’t help but admire the way her eyes sparkled when they were wet. It was normal for her to cry often. She was highly empathetic and felt things strongly so she often cried when she laughed or when she was stressed, or angry. While I didn’t like her being in distress, I couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked with her eyes coruscating.

Finally, she let one last breath escape her lips and she reached for my hand. Panic was beginning to set in. Was I making a huge mistake?

“Me proposing to you is scary?”

I held out a hand to her as the song in the house changed once again. A slow fox trot type of song breezed around us. Our lack of shoes was forgotten, she took my hand and I pulled her into my embrace. Both of her hands were locked behind my neck. I gently placed my own on her waist. Together we swayed to the song with a content smile. My hands were clammy on her dress.

“No, of course not,” she paused but I could sense a rebuttal in her tone, “but,” yep there is was, “it does make me a little nervous for how everyone will react.”

I let my hands slip down to her hip and circled her pelvis with my thumbs.

“You mean our families?”

“Yes, and your fans…”

A slight shiver ran through my body as multiple worst case scenarios flashed in my mind’s eye. The dangers of truly being with me had never been something I had taken lightly -- nor had she -- but it was conversations like this that brought my anxiety to the brim of my metaphorical cup. The thoughts swirled like they did in the pensive in Harry Potter, with flashes that I couldn’t bring myself to dive into, fearing they might become my reality.

We’d had this particular conversation multiple times in different presentations. First, what it would mean for her, a beautiful, young girl, to be my friend- not to exclude the rest of my group- then, what it would mean for her to date me. What it would mean for us to go public, and what consequences would be. Then finally, now, the last of these conversations; what it would mean for us to get married. And this one was the most terrifying one yet.

With my left hand, I pulled one of her arms free from around my neck, entwining my fingers with my palm facing the back of her hand. She let me without complaint. Slowly, I eased her palm onto my chest where I knew she could feel my heart beating. Maybe it was following the tune of her voice. It felt like it beat much stronger whenever she spoke. I wanted her to feel it too. Feel the way that my whole being seemed to vibrate to whatever frequency she was.

Always.

She clenched her fingers around mine and let her eyes fall shut. A breeze rolled by, sweeping her hair away from her round cheeks. A strand stuck onto her eyelashes but she didn’t seem to care. She had goosebumps on her exposed arms, where the fluttering fabric of her dress didn’t touch because of the wind. Like two flower petals they billowed against her perked skin. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was covered in goosebumps because of the weather, or because of the feeling that seemed to waft in the air around us.

“You know as well as I, that there will always be people who don’t want this,” I began, gesturing with my head between the two of us, “but you also know, as well as I do, that I will do everything I can to keep you safe,” I rested my forehead on hers, letting my eyes fall shut as well, “and as long as you will have me, all that matters is how you and I feel. Okay?”

With her eyes firmly closed, she nodded against my head. I snaked my free arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to me, our hands between our chests. From this position, I could feel her heartbeat as well. Maybe I was imagining it, but from my perspective, they were beating in sync.

“You know…” She paused as we swayed like the leaves of a thick tree and the song behind us swelled with emotion, “I could tell you I love you-”

“And why wouldn’t you?’

“No, I am. I do,” she giggled. Her rose perfume seemed to hypnotize me. In my mind’s eye, I was twirling her to the tune in an old fashioned tux. She was wearing dancing heels and her lips were dark. It was all in black and white save for the color of her eyes and we smiled like they smile in those old movies. A flawless fox trot. A perfect tango. A picturesque scene.

“So what’s stopping you from saying it?”

She giggled as I placed a soft kiss to her forehead and I turned us on the spot. The grass was cold under my toes but it was irrelevant. I could feel her on her toes as we danced and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Nothing. It’s just,” she pulled her face from mine and I opened my eyes. Ripped from the film in my head.

“Just what My Love?”

There was a frown on her pretty lips and a wrinkle between her eyebrows that she hated but I adored. It let me know when she was thinking too hard. One more kiss to said wrinkle and her attention was brought back to earth.

“Can you not kiss me when I’m trying to figure out how to word my thoughts properly?”

“I can’t help but kiss you when you look this beautiful,” I countered with a shrug.

I leaned in to try and steal a real kiss from that voluptuous pout, but she stopped me in my tracks with the hand that wasn’t pressed between our bodies. A finger against my puckered lips was all it took.

“Let me finish my thought. It’ll be running through my head all day if you don’t!”

I whimpered, like a puppy after being scolded with no shame, but nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“It’s just that love doesn’t seem like the right word. Not strong enough. I could say that I adore you, but it doesn’t feel right either I just… always…I always…feel this warmth in my chest when I’m with you…and I forget anything that’s bothering me…”

How could she make me melt like this? How was it so easy for her to make me weak in the knees?

“I know exactly what you mean,” I smiled, tilting my head to the side, “there’s things that language just can’t describe. Feelings that can’t be spoken. I’d heard of it before but I never understood it…not until I met you.”

“What a great pick up line,” she laughed and I couldn’t argue. It did sound like something someone would say to a complete stranger to get them to go home with them, but I meant it. I really did. As cheesy as it sounded. As stupid as naïve as I felt, I meant it. Words could no longer describe my emotions and it was something I couldn’t comprehend. It was, however, a relief to know that she felt it as well.

“What can I say?”

“Nothing I guess,” she said, pulling her hand from mine and resting it on my cheek. Something about the way that she delicately circled my jaw with her pinky made my skin burst into goosebumps.

She met my eyes with her own. Electricity zinged through the air. If I was in a cartoon, my eyes would have been in the shape of hearts popping out of my skull as her smile made an appearance.

“I love you,” she whispered like it was the last breath she would ever exhale. In turn she took all the air from my lungs like it should be. I would give her every last breath I had if I could. I’d give her my entire life. I couldn’t help it. I was in love with her.

“Y/n,” I choked out, “I love you too.”

Then finally, her glossy lips were on my own. Following a soft rhythm that felt heavenly after all the back and forward. The strawberry flavor on my tongue seemed to intensify. If there was a heaven, she was the angel that would lead me there.

When we pulled back for breath, I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it.

“I think I’ll wear the stilettos.”

I couldn’t help it. I chuckled.

[im-abanana]

Finding time to write small one-shots in between online-classes is hard, but boi, this quarantine is perhaps making me slightly more productive?

I shamelessly took inspiration from @geekgirles‘s wonderful Rock!BranchAU (love you, friendo <3), because I just love it and everyone probably knows it at this point-- and I just had to give Tresillo some screen time too, bc I’m just weak for that pal.

Some related parts: part 1, part 2

Summary: Rock!Branch isn’t the best at taking certain hints, so it takes a good friend, who also happens to be an experienced family man, to help the rocker realize what the funk is going on. 

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The last thing Branch expected to receive from Tresillo that morning, as he anxiously waited for Poppy outside the Pop Trolls’ medical office, was a honest congratulations and a perhaps-too-vigorous pat on the back. 

“Congratulations, for what? What do you mean?” the overly tattooed Rock Troll tilted his head, a vague and irritating sensation of disorientation burdening his already fully-loaded cargo of negativity. Being the responsible and reliable man he was, he hated not being able to understand something immediately. Was Tresillo making fun of him?

Either way, Branch decided that he didn’t care, at least not at the moment. “Listen, I’m really not in the mood for riddles. Poppy is not feeling well, and this medical appointment is taking hours… I’m starting to worry,” he fearfully admitted, hoping that part of the weight on his shoulder would disappear. It didn’t work, of course.

“Poppy’s sick?” The Reggaeton leader’s brow furrowed, his expression not at all ironic; on the contrary, he seemed sincerely taken aback by the Captain’s defensive response. “But I thought she was pregnant?”

Oh. Oh, alright. Branch must’ve misheard, and that was totally comprehensible, considering his actual concern for his beloved mate. Or Tresillo must’ve simply misinterpreted the situation, which was completely fine too, it happens to the best of us. 

Poppy wasn’t pregnant, she couldn’t be! … unless?

“And you’re making this assumption because…? I mean, h—how would you know!?” the Captain’s last sentence came out a bit more hysterical than he intended, but he took little notice. How could he take notice, when the pieces were finally coming together?

Upon hearing the Rock Troll’s stupefied question, the Reggaeton leader raised his eyebrows, somehow smug— No, there was actual pride shining in his bluish eyes, with just a tiny amount of amusement. “Why are you acting so surprised? I have fathered three fine trollings after all, and two more are on the way. Créeme Branch,” Tresillo put an encouraging hand on the freaked-out Captain’s shoulder in hopes of calming him. “when Tambora and Marimba got pregnant with our second clutch, I was the first to find out. At some point, you just know.”

It made sense. It all made a terrible, awfully plausible sense.

“So, that’s w-why… y-you really think that Poppy is… could she—” Branch blabbed and stumbled, scorching blood pumping furiously into his pointy ears and probably flooding his entire brain cavity, because the typically eloquent rocker couldn’t string two words together right now. Hell, the world was spinning so hard he could barely stand on his feet!

“If you ask me, there’s a good possibility that Queen Poppy is expecting. I mean, the rounder belly is pretty self-explanatory on its own, but only you can know for sure,” the cerulean Troll replied, his fingers squeezing Branch’s skin tighter to give further support. “The point is, did you give her a reason to be?”

Holy Rock, she actually could be. The signs were all there too, right under his nose; it would explain the constant tiredness, the bigger appetite, the unusual carefulness in each step and movement she took. Last week, when Poppy decided to postpone her own birthday party because ‘she wasn’t feeling like celebrating’, Branch had feared she’d gotten seriously sick. But now—

Now the young Captain had something else to be worried about, something even more important.

An egg, a trolling. A small, precious life that he and Poppy, the kindest soul and the most beautiful angel who ever walked on the planet, had created together. That mere, simple thought alone was enough for Branch’s chest to swell with pure joy and a sense of privilege.

On the other hand, their offspring would be the first half-breed Troll ever generated in… decades or centuries, at the very best. Actually, was there ever a Rock-Pop Troll? And how would the others react to the news? Being pushed away, or worse still, being treated like an outcast or a freak, was the last thing Branch wanted for their child.

“What if the other Trolls don’t accept it? What if they push our kid away, just because he or she is different?” the Rock Troll whispered, his anguished gaze glued on the doctor’s pod front door. 

He needed to see Poppy now. He needed to hear her sweet voice, full of reassurance and positivity, or at least, Branch needed to know if the Pop Queen was sharing his own doubts and fears about that particular subject.

“Branch,” what reached his ears instead, was the voice of the Reggaeton Trolls’ leader, this time dead serious and almost peremptory. It demanded respect and attention, and the Captain couldn’t help but give it to him— now more than ever, Branch understood why Tresillo was a tribe leader. “Have you seen my son, Charango? Physically, he is a Reggaeton Troll through and through, with markings on his body and dreadlocks to prove it. And yet, anyone can see how excited he gets when his tìas Wani, Gomdori, Kim-Petit, Ari and Baby Bun come to visit us; he genuinely adores them and their music. Understand what I’m getting at?”

Branch suspected he must’ve had a pretty dumb and clueless look on his face, because Tresillo let out a lighthearted laugh and went straight to the point. “What we are, what we truly are, cannot be seen or touched. We are the decisions we make, the things we’re passionate about. Perhaps my son is a bit Reggaeton and K-Pop inside— so what? Mi música no discrimina a nadie, remember?” 

Stunned by that frankness and wisdom, the Rock Troll took a moment to reflect on the Reggaeton leader’s words. Yes, it was true that everything had changed for the better since Poppy united the kingdoms, but his usual paranoid-self couldn’t help but wonder if the other Trolls were actually prepared for such a thing, for a more tangible and physical representation of said union. 

“So, do you think the others will just accept it? No curious glances, no nasty comments, no nothing?” Branch finally spoke, his skeptical voice firm, but barely audible. 

“While I wouldn’t know about that, I do know that this new generation we’re creating is genuinely… mejor. I can see it in my children’s eyes,” Tresillo firmly replied, laying his benevolent gaze on his three offsprings. “and one day, you will see it in your own kid’s eyes, Branch. On this, I’m absolutely sure.”

The pensive Rock Captain slowly opened his mouth to answer, but a little voice beat him to it. “Papà!” staggering a bit clumsily on feet that were still too big for his tiny, growing legs, one of Tresillo’s trollings approached the two friends. “Moms said they need you right now, and— oh, hello Branch!” the kid chirped, in high spirits as usual, staring happily at the grey rocker.

Branch instantly recognized him, it was Charango. The color of his skin was the same, unmistakable cerulean shade of Tresillo’s, elegantly covered in orange, magenta and yellow stripes and patches on his arms, legs, chest and face, reminding of Tambora’s own body pattern. The child’s nose was yellow and his irises were bright pink, just like his dreadlocks which, however, displayed multicolored tufts of green, ochre and cerulean blue too. 

“I better go then, the bosses are calling for me,” Tresillo chuckled, a playful grin appearing on his face as he vigorously patted his friend’s back for the last time and picked up his cheerful son. “Good luck, Branch. Whatever happens, just know that you’ll always find a friend in me and my tribe members.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Branch tipped his head gratefully at the tribe leader, and then at Charango. “Take care, the both of you.” 

As the Rock Troll silently watched father and son heading home together, laughing and talking of this and that, he couldn’t help but hope— perhaps a bit selfishly? —that he too could have that kind of relationship with his future children, one day.

The sudden bang of the doctor’s pod front door caught his attention, and before the young Captain knew it, Poppy’s voice resounded in the air. 

“Branch, Branch! Come here, quick! You definitely wanna hear the news,” Poppy cried out, her smile brighter than the sun and exuding an excitement she had never shown before. What Tresillo had said was true apparently, there was no need for words; the Rock Troll understood as soon as her magenta, sparkling eyes met his.

To his own surprise, as Branch wrapped his muscular arms around his beloved mate’s waist— where a small life, their own radiant future, was slowly growing —he realized that he wasn’t scared anymore.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

A Winter Wonder  | Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Word count: 4742

🎄  Enjoy the upcoming holidays! 🎄

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Everyone has their season. For some, the unbridled sun and heat waves crashing down onto our bare skin are the best days of the year. Others prefer the spring, the start of something new. The transformation from the gray, cloudy days into the brighter ones. Where warmer, brighter tints arise in mother nature's palette of colors again.

 And then there was winter. A white Christmas is often said to be a cliche. We hope it happens every year. And that one year, when it really happens. It's magical. You're gaze fixed upon that white sky. Watching as the heavens slowly coated the world in a blanket of snow Feeling the flakes touch upon your warm skin. And the cold air picking at your exposed skin. A content sigh fans out as a foggy cloud in front of you. Straightening your collars and tucking on your gloves, you carefully make your way down the white covered steps. Here and there a few imprints from previous pedestrians. You can't help but smile at that crystalline crunch as you plant your feet into the untrodden fresh snow. Further down, the pavement was almost cleared of snow. The usual crowd working their way downtown. You double-check the time on your phone before you make your way down the street.

 Christmas decorations are everywhere across the city. From the enormous tree in the center square, littered with twinkling lights and colorful decorations. The small market stands with sweets and drinks. Families spending their time ice-skating. Browsing shops and buying presents. As the Christmas songs finally find their place in the time of year. It's a peaceful and wonderful time.

 Making your way past all the shops and malls, you end up at the usual meeting point. Walking down the snowy path, you eye that familiar bench. Peter wasn't there yet. Your eyes immediately turn to the sky in between the tall buildings. Perhaps you could see him swinging in-between. But to no avail. You turn around, taking in the stunning view across the park. Other then a few people walking their dog. It was idyllic.

 Then that familiar trickle, a glowing feeling, radiating from one of your nostrils. You feel the warmth running down to your lip. Undoing your glove, you unwrap the wrinkled tissue from your pocket. The taste already on your tongue. You can already trace the first drop falling from your lip. Creating a stark contrast in the snow. Dabbing that one nostril, you stare at the sight of the red-stained snow. A sigh escapes your lips. Seating yourself on the nearby bench, you clench the tissue around your nose. In an effort to halt the bleeding. Each season also has its downside.

 The squeaking sound of boots moving through the snow wakes you. "Y-You alright?" A familiar voice calls behind you.

 "Peter!" Raising yourself to your feet. "I'm fine." You swing your arms wide open. Peter hesitates for a moment, looking at the blood on the floor. Then checking for a sign of blood coming from your nose, before pulling you into a tight hug. Encased into his embrace, you feel his arms squeeze around you. Peter was the only one that could give such satisfying hugs. So strong and passionate.

 "It's so good to see you again!" Peter happily exclaims. Holding you close in his strong arms. Lifting you up from your feet out of excitement. "I've missed you!"

 "I missed you too." You smile from ear to ear.

"Got one again?" Peter leans in and carefully studies the blood coming from your nostril.

 "Time of the year." You shrug your shoulders.

 "C' mere." Fully concentrated, he wets a piece of the tissue. And cleans the remains of dried blood around your nostril with great care. "Much better." He smiles. You can't help but smile back. That glow on his face. It's heartwarming.

 "So, what happened to you?" Tilting your head ever so slightly. Inspecting his right cheek, a light red mark up graced his otherwise flawless skin. "Looks like you got hit by a car."

 Peter chuckles as his gaze falls to the floor for a moment. Shaking his head. "I- eh…"

 "You know what." You dive forward, grabbing a handful of snow. "Put some ice on it!" Tossing it into his face.

 Peter, in response, puffs and blows, wiping his face clean. Laughingly throwing back the remains towards you as he almost tumbles over the bench.

 You hunch forward, dodging his throw. But as you come back up, Peter reaches out for you. A massive ball of snow in his left-hand closes in. "Please! No!" You plead before he grabs you by the collar. Giggling as he drags you in. There was no chance you were getting out of that punishment. You squirm and thrash about as the ball of snow sinks it's way into your neck. Peter laughs hysterically as he looks onto you jumping around, trying to get the snow out from your jacket.

 "You made your point." You puff. "But, that blush ain't masking it, Pete." You chuckle. Lightly slapping his cheek with your gloved hand. Still cold from the snow.

 "Ouch." He winces away from your touch, protesting sarcastically. "That hurts."

 "Oh, shut it. You'll regenerate that in no time." You remark with a smirk on your face. "Now…" Wiping the layer of snow clear from the bench. "Normal people would have chosen a warmer spot to meet up. Especially at this time of year."

 "Normal people." He chuckles. "Not us." Peter seats himself beside you, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Just look at it, isn't it beautiful?"

 "It's gorgeous..." Your attention gets drawn to a winter wonderland in front of you. The tall, imposing trees were now burdened with a thick layer of snow on their branches. The vibrant green grass hid away by a white frosting. Like an empty canvas, waiting for the artist's brush. The pond is frozen shut. Creating a mirror-like surface. Only a gentle breeze of snowflakes dwindling down to earth. Bringing a peaceful harmony to it all. "So, how'd you get that?" Tapping at your cheek.

 "Well, I… Eh." Peter hesitates for a moment. "You know, with the w-winter and all that." Judging by his reaction, you know this was going to be good. "The cold temperatures and such..." He grins for a second, shaking his head. "I-...I crashed into a brick wall when my webs didn't connect." He smiles at you with a confessed expression. Lips pressed together. Somewhat ashamed of his action. "Damaged a fire escape in my fall."

 You can't help but laugh at his story. You've known Peter long enough to laugh these moments off. Peter, of course, followed. "I'm sorry for laughing… But-" Wiping the tear rolling down your cheeks. "-you really need some winter-webs." Bellowing into laughter again.

 Peter looks up, his mouth falling open. "(Y/N)." He calls out. "That's it!"

 "Yeah, well. Who knows..." You chuckle as you regain yourself. Shaking the funny thoughts from your head. Trying to focus on your eureka moment. "If you think about it-" You both start rambling about the concoctions, listing different reactions and arrangements of chemical ingredients. Peter attentively nods along to your train of thought. Proposing different options and enthusiastically adding on to your ideas. Onto that scrap of paper, left in your jacket, you begin scribbling the formula. It's a symphony of ideas coming together. It flows so smoothly from the mind. As the pen flips from hand to hand. Allowing each other time to write their ideas down. Propose new things. You both gaze at the scribbles before realizing the nostalgia. You look up, giving each other an excited smile. Spotting that innocent sparkle in Peter's eyes.

 "I think we're onto something." He says. "We need to test it!"

 "For sure!" Handing him the folded piece of scribbles. "Now, what's left are the ingredients."

 "I can fix that." As he notes it down in his phone. "I still don't get it how you didn't get into MIT." He sighs defeated. "You'd fit right in. I know you would!"

 "It's what it is, Peter."

 "No, it's just not fair! You-"

 "Peter!" You call out, trying to get his attention again. "How's the heating in your suit?" You subtly try to change the subject. "Last time we were here, icicles dangled from your nose." Peter's face was now full of color, his nose and ears burning bright red. A vibrant smile stretched across his face.

 "Mister Stark was really impressed by your work." His eyes lit up, locked with yours. Full of adoration and pride. "He did do a double-check of course. Didn't want me to burn to a crisp."

 "Neither do I. But how about you?" You continue. "Do you like it?"

 "I love it." He pauses. "No more chilly winds. No more runny noses. It's great!"

 "Good." You nod. "Good…" And search in the pockets of your jacket. "Still got that Spider-Man scarf?"

 "Of course." He chuckles. "I'm never letting that go."

 "It looked so fluffy. Shame you didn't wear it."

 "I'm just glad she didn't knit a sweater."

 "Would've worked better than the scarf." You joke. "Alright, are you ready for this?"

 Peter shifts on the bench. "So..." Leaning in, as he whispers. "What'd you manage to make out of it?"

 "You're not gonna believe your eyes."

 "Show me." He wiggles closer towards you...

 "Check this out." You turn over your wrist and bring up your new gadget.

 "That small?!" Peter's eyes widen. "Awesome!"

 "Here it goes." Putting the button like thing on the inside of your wrist. You both tentatively watch in silence for what's about to happen. But nothing does. You both jump back as a puff of smoke erupts, letting it fall to the floor as metallic bits spew from the opening onto the snow. Little sparks mark the end of its life.

 "Was that supposed to happen?" Peter asks, looking up at you with big eyes. Questioning your tech.

 You squint, giving him a disapproving look. "What do you think, Peter?"

 "I'm sorry." He apologizes. "But I'm sure we can make this work. Say, how about we do one of those weekends again? I for sure can't work on it in Mister Stark's lab."

 "Does he know?"

 "No, and let's keep it that way." Peter looks over his shoulder as if he expects someone listening in on him. "What do you say." He hunches closer to you." I help you fix it, if you help me with my 'winter-webs'." Awaiting your reaction. "C'mon! It's been forever!" Pushing you against your shoulder.

 "Hell yeah!" You slap him against his shoulder. "I'm in!"

 "Awesome! How about the days of Christmas?" He quips before you get a chance to say anything. "Spend it with us!" His eyes sparkled with excitement. Innocent puppy-like eyes stare at you. "Ooh, then we can do presents for each other!" He instantly adds on.

 You can't help but share the same excitement. "Yes, please!" You clap your hands together. "Then, I don't have to babysit my awful nephews."

 Peter jumps up. "Alright!" Balling a fist as a way of showing his victory, followed by a happy skip. "I'll let May know."

 "Hey!" You try to call him back as he suddenly darts off. "Peter!" Picking up the mess from your failed gadget.

 He stops dead in his tracks. Laughing and mumbling to himself. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." He says, walking back to you. "I... got carried away. Got so many good ideas." A huge smile on his face got you wondering what got him all worked up. If it had to be that good, you sure had to come up with something that could match his.

 "Well, hot cocoa is that way.." Pointing backward over your shoulder. "Let's start with that. You owe me one." Straightening your collars, and tucking your hands in your pockets as Peter catches up with you. "After all, I'm freezing."

 "You did that to yourself, dumbass." As he darts his cold hand in between your collar and neck out of nowhere.

 "Peter!" You shout, running a few paces ahead.

 Since you were separated last year at the end of school. You each were forced down your own path. Peter got into MIT, and you somehow didn't. There were a lot of discussions about it. The expectations for your parents. The advice from school. What you wanted.

 Nevertheless, it didn't change a thing. Peter was devastated. And so were you. But life went on. It had to. But without your best friend. Without your equal. Without your lifeline.

 And time pushes people apart, forces you to grow up, and requires you to evolve and be more serious with life. Almost like sucking the fun out of things. Preparing you for real life.

 But being together. There was something relaxing and calming about it. Being with Peter, everything looked brighter. Better. Less daunting. More fun. Time to be yourself. And times like these really felt like a relief. Joking around, messing with each other. Spending time at the local arcade hall. Sharing a meal. Falling in those pointless nerdy conversations at the cinema, while standing in front of posters. To a point, you completely forget to pick a movie at all. Just rambling about anything. Singing along to a song together. There was so much in common. It's special. And you begin to realize that once you were forced apart. Your friendship was special. Where would it end...?

 "(Y/N)?" A voice wakes you from your moment of reflection. "You want some more, sweety?" You pull your gaze from the plate in front of you. A mess of mindless mushed ice-cream laid in front of you. As Aunt May brings up the dessert platter.

 "N-No, thank you, I've had more than enough." You politely waved her away. "Can you hand me that, Peter?" Pointing to the whipped cream beside him. A grin spread across his face.

 "I thought you'd never ask." He happily comments. He brings up his other hand, which was encased in a metal like glove. At the fingertips, a blue like hue beamed outward. The plate of whipped cream slowly started moving upward. You both giggle and wonder at the fantastic piece of tech you two managed to rebuild.

 "Boys." May sighed as the plate slowly hovered it's way over to you. "No more tech at the table. If you're finished, you-..."

 Peter cocked his head towards May. Losing his concentration over the plate. "-can do the presents?!" He finishes her sentence. Causing the plate to obey the laws of gravity again. Followed by a clatter of shards and whipped cream splattering across the table. None of the three around the table were spared. A moment of silence followed. As you locked eyes with Peter, biting his lower lip. May sighed deeply, giving Peter a judgemental stare. "Sorry…May." He quietly apologized.

 "Go change." She points towards his bedroom. "Both of you."

 Giving you a smiling glance, Peter jumps from his chair and makes for his room. You sit in silence for a moment. Taking the napkin, wiping away the spots of cream from your face.

 "So, what'd you ask for?" May asks as she starts piling up the plates.

 "Nothing special that I'm aware of."

 "Hmmm." She hums. "I have to say, I haven't seen him this nervous for Christmas. Like… Ever. Are you sure?" She asks, questionably frowning at you.

 "I don't know…" You intended to help her clean the table. Collecting leftovers and such. But get pushed away immediately.

 "Go." She waves you away with a smile." Go, do your presents. Something has Peter busy. It's too quiet in there." Wiping the whipped cream from her forehead with the towel.

 "Peter?" You ask, going headfirst around the doorframe into the room. Looking around, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Peter was nowhere to be found. You make your way to your backpack, just to make sure your present was still there. From the bathroom, you hear the tap running and the sound of a toothbrush. It's been a while since you last visited Peter's room. Walking around the room, you take in the various posters. Some things have changed. But you haven't taken the time to take it in. The stack of new comics. Little tech bits and bobs he collected over time.

 You fiddle a bit with his black and white Kodak camera. A stack of incredible images lay beside his desk. If only people would know who really took them. Carefully lifting the corner of the Iron Man poster, you admire the growing collage of newspaper clippings of Spider-Man. Peter is proud of what he does as Spider-Man. And he has every reason to be so. But for a long time, he couldn't share his experiences with anyone. He also wouldn't. The things that he saw and helped to prevent. Still, he isn't the type of person that would boast about it either. In the end, not even to you. But you could sense how proud he was afterwards. When you would congratulate him on his recent success. He just glowed. So you couldn't resist collecting little clippings for him to put up on his wall. A way of showing his achievements. But also that the things he does, had an impact. And if only for a very small audience, they still deeply appreciated his work. A small inset picture draws your attention. Your eye is being drawn to it. Like spotting a coin on the sidewalk. It's a clipping from last year, at about the same time.

 Then you eye his drawer. You knew exactly which one to open. You concentrate on the noises coming from the bathroom. But by the sound of it, he wasn't coming back yet. So you rummage around the drawer. With a satisfied grin, you pull out the Spider-Man scarf. You can't help but sniffle as it looked so wrong on so many levels. The colors and patterns. It's hilarious. Winding it around your neck, and seating yourself comfortably on the desk chair. You grab one of the comic books lying around. And patiently wait for Peter to return. Only a few pages in, the bathroom door swings open. Peter appeared all tidied up, clean, and smelling fresh. Full of confidence.

 "You wanna go?" Holding the door to the bathroom.

 But before he has a chance to respond, you let the comic fall forward and shoot a web from your wrist.

 "No…(Y/N)." He giggles, pacing towards you. You missed entirely. A string of web dangled from the ceiling. Peter utterly unimpressed by your actions. "Gimme those..."

 You pout your lips, giving him a disappointed look. "I was hoping to at least find this wrapped." Tugging on the scarf. What followed was the inevitable tickling punishment. His strength was no match against you. In no time, Peter's strong arms had you squirming in his grasp. Removing the scarf and web-shooters from your defeated body.

 "Alright, gimme a moment to freshen up." You blow and puff, catching your breath after the tickle fight with Peter. In the bathroom, you take a moment to change your shirt and tidy up. To your surprise, you find spots of cream literally everywhere. Even on your trousers. After a good clean up, you return to his room. A nervous flutter had your system scrambled. What if he didn't like your present? It kept circling in your mind. What if...

 "Look!" Peter shoots up from his bed. "It's here." Handing you the comic he was reading. "I found it!"

 "You can't convince me, Peter." Brushing his comic aside as you walk by.

 "C'mon, (Y/N)!" He protests, flapping the page to and through. "I'll stop talking about if you read it."

 "And admit I was wrong?" You quip as you look back over your shoulder. "Never…"

 "Ooow…" He sighs. Falling backward on his bed.

 "So, about the presents-" Taking your bag on your lap. Feeling a flutter of nerves. "May said we could open them. And eh… I...I've been-..."

 "W-Wait." Peter interrupts. Nervously pacing up and down the room. "Can I-... go first?"

 "Uhm, sure." Setting the bag beside you, you perch yourself upright on his desk chair. "Go for it." You give him a reassuring smile.

 "C-Can-..." He stutters. "Can you… like… c-close your eyes?" He asks with his hands hidden behind his back, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet.

 "Okay." Closing your eyes and await his instructions. "I can do that."

 "Please… (Y/N)." He mutters nervously. "Don't be mad. I've..."

 "Peter, how can I be-..." But a waft of warm breath tingles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat. And your breath stocks in your throat along with the words. And before you were able to register what was happening. Your lips connect with something soft and warm. A hint of mint and freshness fills your senses. In an involuntary response, you pull away slightly, inhaling a small breath of surprise. And find yourself being drawn into it. Not only by both hands clasping onto either side of your head. But also a sudden spark igniting within. A craving. A desire. A pair of hands take the side of your head. The thumbs slowly caress your cheeks. Pulling you deeper into a slow and tender kiss.

 A sense of relief. It's happiness that washes over you. You want Peter close to you. More than ever before. With your eyes closed, you reach out for his figure. Letting your fingers ghost along his body, from his torso down to his hips. Through the fabric of his clothing, your fingers lightly brush his rippled muscles. You feel his lips tremble against yours, as you reel him in towards you. Gasping a little as he throws his leg over one side, seating himself on your lap. A warm sensation shoots through your body like you never experienced before. A euphoric warmth of pure joy and bliss. His lips moving in perfect sync with yours. Kissing you slow and gentle. Your hands hold onto his hips, drawing him closer to you. Resting Peter on top of your pelvis. His fingers slide towards the back of your neck, intertwining with the end of your hair. Loosely playing with your it, as he holds you. Your lips dancing in sweet harmony. Your hands slide up and down his spine. You feel his lips curve into a smile. You both fall into a small chuckle.

 As a soft moan falls from your lips as your part. You open your eyes, Peter's forehead resting against yours. You look up and lock eyes with his. Peter gazed at you with big heart eyes, sparking with tenderness and love. You watch breathlessly as his eyes studied yours with silent intensity. A blush colored his cheeks. Followed by a genuinely sweet smile, you wish never would disappear. His smile was one of happiness growing. You couldn't do anything else but return the smile. His lower lip quivered as a exhales a shuddering breath. "I love you." He said softly, before closing his eyes. Trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

  "Peter..." You whisper, trying to get his attention. At the same time, you try to fight the tears as well. Swallow the lump forming in your throat. "Hey…" Your voice cracks. As you hold his cheeks in the palm of your hands. "Listen to me." Softly caressing his cheek with the pads of your thumb. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to blink away the tears welling in the corner of his eyes.

 "I love you, Peter." Pressing your lips on his. "With all my heart."

 A small tear rolls down his cheek. His cute smile still widespread on his face. "Hey...What are those tears for?" You ask, holding him close to you. Wiping away the rolling tear down his cheek.

 "Tears of joy." He chuckles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "You make me so happy." He sniffed softly, his nose all runny. "I love you (Y/N)." His eyes turned watery again, so you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him into a tight hug. Peter's head buried in your neck. "I love you so m-much..." He snickers into your ear.

 "Pete… Stop." You sniffle, rubbing his back. "You're gonna make me cry as well."

 "I'm sorry." Wiping his nose clean with the back of his hand. "It's the nerves." He chuckles.

 "I gotta admit, Peter. You got balls." You compliment him with a kiss on the lips... "I couldn't understand why you would brush your teeth…"

 Simultaneously, you both shoot back up and glance up at the sound of slow clapping coming from the door. May stands there, giving you both a look of approval. "Merry Christmas." She beams. "I've seen those heart eyes for such a long time." As she comes forward. Peter and you share a quick moment of eye contact. Not sure what was happening next. But May leans in and kisses you both on the forehead. "I guess you don't have to fight over who's going to sleep on the couch tonight, after all." She rubs your shoulder. "I'm really happy for the two of you. You two deserve each other."

 In silence, you both watch May walk away. Peter's arm was wrapped around your neck, his other hand on your chest. Your one arm was wrapped around his lower back. The other hand on his hip. A lovely position. So calm and serene. Watching May leave the room. You turn to each other again. You both smile with the sense of relief, knowing that May approved of the relationship. But are then shaken up by a metal sound. "You two will definitely not be touching these kinds of things in a while." May jokes as a metal glove gets tossed through the door.

 "Have fun." She gives you a wink before pulling the door shut. You can't help but chuckle for a moment. And listen for movement coming from the other side of the door. The grin on your face stretching.

 "Is she gone?" You whisper, keeping your gaze locked to the door.

 "I don't know." Peter murmurs back.

 "But, can't you sense it with your tingle?"

 "Only your heart racing like crazy." Pressing a kiss on your temple. "Hey..." Cupping your chin with one hand, making you turn your gaze to him. Kissing you very gently on the lips. "I didn't get it… What'd she mean?"

 "Peter…" You chuckle. "It doesn't matter." You let your fingers brush past his cheek and hold the back of his head as you press your lips onto his. "Because you made this the best Christmas ever." And end by planting a soft kiss on top of his nose. "Thank you."

 "You're everything to me (Y/N). The months that I spend away from you…" He blushes. "Have been the hardest. You complete me in every way. I don't want to be without you. Ever." He pauses for a moment, looking at you with those heart eyes and a cheesy smile. "Will you be my Christmas present?"

 "Absolutely." You wholeheartedly agree. "My present wasn't boyfriend worthy anyway." You whisper.

 Peter's eyes widen as his mouth falls open slightly. "Boyfriend." He giggles, spinning the desk chair around. The world fading away around the two of you. There were only the two of you. Nothing else. Now you understand what all those love songs are about. Happiness and joy. Bliss. Finally together. Wrapped in each other's arms. With a thump, you land onto his mattress. Warm and cozy underneath his sheets. Captivated in his full embrace. Cuddling, snuggling, and spooning.

 "Can I unwrap my present?" He whispers in your ear, followed by a brush of his lips on the nape of your neck. While ghosting a finger along the hem of your shirt.

 You roll onto your back, allowing Peter to bury his face into the side of your neck. Kissing you gently. As you rake your fingers through his fluffy brown curls. Bringing your lips to his ear. Quitely whispering to him. "If it were up to me, you and I wouldn't be laying here wrapped in the first place." Peter chuckles softly, his breath fanning across your collarbone, as his hand slowly caresses your waistline. His lips meet your jawline as he rolls on top of you.

 "Never leave me (Y/N)."

[nekumiko]

Colors

Fandom: Daiya no Ace

Genre: Romance

Rated: T

Words: 9, 024

Series: Colors

Summary:  She’s fascinated with his hair. Just his hair. But Ryousuke finds it invasive, and of course he won’t let her off that easily.

Chapter Seven: Jealousy (but not just Ryousuke’s)

If there is one thing you must know about Kominato Ryousuke, it's that he cherishes his family. Ever since his first year in Seidou - the first time he’s lived away from them - he’s been using the phone installed at the back of the dorms every once in a while to call his parents. But he'd only ask about life back home and about his brother (now, though, Ryousuke is the one who updates them about Haruichi). When he is asked about his day, he would answer, but would keep it brief. And unless he would talk about the schedule of their official games, he never initiates a topic about himself. 

Except for tonight, even if he’s not enthusiastic about the reaction he’d get.

"I must be keeping you from practicing,” his mother says from the other line. “Just always take care of each other, okay?  'Kaasan and 'Tousan miss you and Haruichi a lot!"

"Okay." Then, with a practiced, casual tone, Ryousuke adds, "By the way, I've got a girlfriend now."

His mother gasps. "What?” Ryousuke swears she could hear her smile as she repeats, “A girlfriend?"

He then moves the receiver away from his ear to save himself from his mother’s squeals. 

"Ryou-chan has a girlfriend now!" she practically sings. "I’m so proud!”

“‘Kaasan…”

“My eldest son is really so manly~”

“Please stop.”

“I can't wait to tell 'Tousan! Why is he taking so long in the shower?"

"I'm sure he and all our neighbors have already heard you." He smirks. "Okay, that's all. Good night, ‘Kaasan."

"What? So soon? But you can't just drop big news like that and leave!"

"But weren't you saying goodbye earlier?"

"Ryou-chan!"

Ryousuke chuckles. "I'll tell you more about her next time. I have to do a few more swings before bed." 

"Hmph. Fine. Good night."

"Yeah, good night." Ryousuke hangs up with a relieved sigh. At least that’s out of the way. 

It's only been a week and a half since he asked Aya out, but letting his parents know about her doesn’t sound so bad. Besides, it’s an important life update, isn’t it? 

A smile creeps up on his face once again. The fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever he thinks about Aya resurfaces. He takes a deep breath to keep it from overwhelming him, yet the smile remains. Okay. Now, we practice. He then turns around to go back to the indoor gym.

Haruichi stands there, dazed.

Ryousuke immediately sets his mouth back to a thin line. "Haruichi."

"Aniki…"

A silent moment passes. 

And then Ryousuke clears his throat. "You should've taken the phone from me. 'Kaasan was so heartbroken because you never call."

"Eh?" Haruichi startles at the change of subject. "I-I was about to, though…" he trails off, awkwardly crossing his arms in front of him.

Easily recognizing Haruichi's stance, Ryousuke relaxes his shoulders and puts his hands in his pockets with a defeated sigh. He would not let this go anyway.

"Is it true?" the younger Kominato finally asks, his cheeks turning pink. "Th-that Aniki has a girlfriend?"

Ryousuke stares at his brother silently for a few seconds, before smirking and stepping closer to him. Then he karate-chops the top of Haruichi's head. "Eavesdropper."

"I didn't mean to!" Haruichi, with his hands soothing the top of his head, turns in his spot as Ryousuke walks away. "I really was just about to use the phone!"

Ryousuke playfully waves his brother off, but before he rounds the corner, he stops and looks back. And with the slyest tone he could muster, he says, "Don't get a girlfriend just because I have one now, though."

"What?" Haruichi's blush turns a deeper shade. "Of course I won't!"

"Haruichi!" A girl struggling with three canned drinks and her school bag catches up to the pink-haired first-year the next day.

Haruichi bows in greeting. "Good morning… uh, Aya-san."

Aya finally reaches his side, a look of confusion on her face. "Hmm? What's with the hesitation?"

"N-nothing!"

"Okay…” Aya shifts her belongings to hold up a yellow can. “Hey, are you up for lemon soda? I got lucky in the vending machine today. But I already got drinks for Kazuya and me, so…"

With an uneasy smile, Haruichi takes the free drink (that's more on forced into his hand). "Thank you, um, Aya-san."

The girl raises an eyebrow in suspicion and slight worry as they start walking.

Haruichi's discomfort matches the color of the lemon beverage's can.

Does he want to talk about something? Or did I do something wrong?

Haruichi clears his throat just then. "Um, this is very sudden, but what would you like me to call you now? I've been thinking of 'Neesan,' or if I should match it with Aniki's and call you 'Aneki.'"

Her eyes widen. "This is a surprise." Then she turns away to continue in a rehearsed, calm tone, "But what does your brother have to do with this?"

"Huh? I just heard that he has a girlfriend now."

That makes Aya stop in her tracks, bewilderedly staring at the boy's profile. 

Haruichi pauses as well to look back at her. "Aya-san?"

She glances around. Okay, no one seems to have heard. She then pulls him to the side (as best as she could with all the items in her hands). "You've heard. Like from rumors, or from Ry- Kominato-san himself? Has he been telling people?"

"I, uh, just overheard his phone call to our parents last night."

"Your parents?" Aya exclaims. She looks down at her feet and mutters, "He's already gone that far?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Huh?” Aya looks back up at him and laughs nervously. “Nothing! I mean, who cares if he tells everyone about his girlfriend?"

Haruichi gasps, and then his shoulders noticeably sag. "So it's not you?"

The sight makes Aya's heart crack. "W-what makes me the first one you'd think of, anyway?"

He shrugs. "Well, a lot of things. Aside from the seniors, you're the person who's around him the most."

Oh. Of course. He has a Ryousuke radar. How could I forget?

"You also talk about and act as if you've known him for a long time." The signature pink finally dusts his cheeks. "D-do you remember the first time we met at the train station? When you mistook me for him… I mean, I think friends - or more than friends - greet each other like that when they meet up, right?" 

Haruichi, I tripped at that time.

"Ah, and you also said Aniki isn't really as harsh as he puts himself out to be. That must mean you've grown close enough to notice that."

I just followed Ryou around a little too much…

"And you draw him a lot, too."

Aya blinks. "Wow, so even Haruichi thinks my drawings are declarations of love."

Haruichi only gives her a sad smile. "Well, I'm very sorry for mistaking you for—"

Aya cuts him off with a giggle. No one can really get past this guy when it comes to his brother. She manages to hold an index finger up to her lips. "Ssssh. Just keep it down, Haruichi."

He then almost blinds her with a smile brighter than the sunshine piercing through the school windows. "Wow. So I’m right?”

Aya nods.

Haruichi chuckles. “That's a relief. I uh, kinda don't want anyone else to be my older sister."

"Older… sister…" Aya repeats, inwardly gasping as she remembers why they are having this conversation in the first place.

"So… about my question…"

"Uh, well, it's up to you!  'Neesan' is sweet, but 'Aneki' is cool. It all depends on how you see me as an… older sister."

Haruichi's smile grows wider as he nods, oblivious to her racing thoughts. "Okay, I'll think about it. See you later!"

Aya watches the boy run excitedly to his class, his pink hair matching the blush on her cheeks. Of course Haruichi would think like that. If your sibling gets a significant other, you'd have to treat them like your own sibling too, right? She chuckles helplessly to herself. These brothers act fast…

"Your Kominato is right here, not over there," a voice suddenly speaks in her ear.

Aya gasps, feeling her heart on her throat. She turns to see the only other pink-haired student smirking down at her.

"What? Being called 'oneesan' sounds so appealing to you?"

“…How did you know that’s what we’re talking about?”

“I just figured he’d ask that, now that he knows.”

They also know each other too well. She straightens up to compose herself. And then she eyes him suspiciously. She wouldn't be surprised if Ryousuke had been going around telling everyone about their relationship. After all, he is the embodiment of his seemingly-favorite color – the color of jealousy. Oh. What if he likes yellow exactly because of that? "Aside from your brother, have you already told anyone in school about… us?"

Ryousuke slightly frowns in confusion. "No."

Her jaw drops open. "But you told your parents already?"

"I don't see anything wrong with that," Ryousuke nonchalantly replies with a shrug.

"But… but it's too early! And it's usually the other way around! Your friends first before your parents."

"And where did you even get that idea? From shoujo manga?"

She pouts. "You should've at least let me know first."

Ryousuke smiles apologetically. "Alright, I'm sorry. But what's done is done. My mom was actually very happy about it. She would’ve suggested I introduce you to her already if I didn’t cut the call early."

“She would do that?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. But we don’t have to go back to Kanagawa until after Nationals, right? So don’t think about that for now.” He then takes her school bag from her. "Here, I'll walk you to class."

"Oi, Ryousuke!" Isashiki Jun jogs up to the boy, with Masuko trailing behind him. But his grin vanishes when he spots Aya. He then turns to his friend with a reprimanding scowl. "Hey now, aren't you too old to go this far?"

"Huh?"

"I know you two are always at odds with each other, but if you're going to get physical now, it's time to stop."

"Uga!" Masuko says in agreement.

"What the heck are you talking about?" Ryousuke asks, growing irritated.

Aya looks back and forth between them, and then at the second- and third-years whispering and giving her and Ryousuke odd looks as they pass by. Are people still under the impression that we'd fight whenever we meet? Aya internally smirks. That's good, then. "I appreciate the concern, Isashiki-san, Masuko-san," she says as she pries her bag from Ryousuke's hand. "But Kominato-san isn't bullying me! He's just turning over a new leaf and attempting a rare act of kindness."

"What?" Ryousuke now turns to her in disbelief.

And that's when Aya realizes she’d just made a grave mistake. She gulps, and then manages to smile. "Anyway, thank you for the offer, Kominato-san!" She bows quickly before backing up towards the nearby stairs. "But I can manage this! I-I'll get going now!" She then dashes up the steps and into 2-B's room.

"About time the princess arrived~" Miyuki grabs his energy drink from her hands when she approaches.

As usual, Kuramochi has been sitting at her desk to talk to Miyuki, so he stands up to give Aya her rightful space. But not without sparing the panting girl a curious look. "Have you been running? There's still plenty of time before the first class."

She slumps in her seat. "Oh, he is going to kill me."

"Who? Ryou-san?"

Aya groans. “Yes.”

Kuramochi grins teasingly. "But haven't you two been lovey-dovey lately? Because you're apparently his girlfriend now?"

"I'm serious, Kuramochi."

The boy loses his smile. "Oh, you really are. What happened?"

Miyuki, on the other hand, laughs as he opens his canned drink. "Congratulations, Aya!" She pats her back quite harshly. "You're his girlfriend, though, so maybe he'd go easy on you."

"Hey, Miyuki!" Kuramochi warns as the brunette drinks. "This isn't the time!"

Miyuki then almost spits out his drink and makes a disgusted face. He taps the girl's shoulder with the can. "Oi, Aya. This has gotten warm now."

Aya grits her teeth and grabs the can. "I am never buying you a drink again, Bakazuya."

 Someone knocks on the Art Club's door later that day.

The third-year club president opens it. "Kominato-kun?" She looks behind her before subtly blocking Ryousuke's view of the room. "What brings you here?"

"I came for Aya. Is she still in there?"

"Did he just call her by first name?" another member runs up to the door with a huge grin on her face.

The club president ignores her and instead eyes Ryousuke suspiciously. "Makoto-chan? Why are you looking for her? What did she do this time?"

"I'm supposed to pick her up and walk her home."

Collective gasps are heard from inside the usually quiet room.

"I knew it!" someone shouts. "You really are a thing!"

"Oh?" Ryousuke tries to look behind the (taller) girl still blocking the door. "So she hasn't told even the club she hides in." Even if she’s the one who said I should’ve told my friends first.

"She's pretty secretive," the club president says, shrugging.

"I guess that's why she chose this club." Ryousuke gives an innocent smile. "If, for some reason, I’m not allowed to enter, then can you just get her for me?"

She laughs. "Nah, come on in. I guess she should be punished for keeping such juicy news from us." She then steps aside to open the door wider, revealing the back of the room.

The art club has apparently been using the back wall as a place to hang up their members’ framed artworks. And the first thing Ryousuke notices is Aya's famous drawing of his double play from a game one year ago, hung in the middle of it all. And in every row, more drawings of him almost outnumber the other club members’ work.

"She's over here!"

Ryousuke turns around to see a member waving at him from the center of the room.

The tables and chairs have been pushed aside to create a large space, where the club members are hunched over an unfinished banner. And there she is, the only passed out person on the floor.

"Senpai!" A first-year sitting beside Aya pokes her cheek. "It's time to pay for your sins."

Aya merely flicks the hand away and stays asleep. With the amount of commotion around her, it has to be considered amazing.

Ryousuke almost smiles fondly. He kneels beside her to gently shake her shoulder.

It’s only then that she opens her eyes. A small, confused frown mars her peaceful expression. "Ryou?"

Ignoring the sudden skip in his heartbeat, Ryousuke carefully pulls her up by the arm. "What are you doing down there? Are you that sleep-deprived?"

Aya successfully sits up with his help, but her eyes close again and she falls forward, holding onto his arm and laying her head on his shoulder.

It is important to note that Ryousuke is willing himself not to pull her closer, nor to even blush.  

She yawns as she replies, "I'm doing the good luck banner for Nationals. I'm supposed to be an assistant like the rest of the juniors, but the seniors assigned me to lead the project because of my apparent attachment to the team. Don't you think that's unfair? I just accepted a new batch of commissions the other day!"

Still trying to keep his calm, he smirks. "This side of you is adorable, Aya, but I don't think you should be saying all that in front of them."

"Them?" Aya repeats. She opens her eyes again and lifts her head to see the club members watching. Aya then immediately moves away. "W-what are you doing here, Kominato-san?"

She barely witnesses Ryousuke's smile turn upside down before two club members squeal and jump on her.

 "You don't need to be so stressed," Ryousuke says as they walk out of the school doors, her bag in his hand. 

"I just complained about my seniors in front of their faces. How can I not be stressed?"

"Ah, so that's what you're worried about."

Aya looks at him. "What else is there?"

"Are you being bullied, Aya? I already know that you like to draw me, but I'd think they're making fun of you by framing and hanging all those up."

"I-I just like to draw you…" Aya gasps. "Oh no, you saw all that too." She whines as she covers her face with her hands. Her voice muffled, she continues, "Now you know how much I like you."

Ryousuke's face immediately warms up. "Wha-"

"You're going to call me a stalker again," Aya adds in a softer and more worried tone, her hands moving to now only cover her red cheeks. Yet she stays oblivious to the boy's reaction.

Secretly sighing in relief, Ryousuke clears his throat to compose himself. "No, I won't. I promised I wouldn't call you that anymore, didn't I?" And then he starts walking again. "Because I do know we've agreed to go by first names."

Aya drops her hands and stares at him.

The afternoon sunlight hits his toned back, bathing him in the color of betrayal. Noticing she hasn't caught up, he pauses to look over his shoulder. "Hey, come on."

Aya hurries to his side, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. A yellow card. It's only been more than a week and I already caused a yellow card.

They continue walking in silence. The quiet street with only a few people passing by amplifies her unease.

"Hey," Ryousuke finally says, "sorry, that's out of line. Maybe you just aren't used to it yet. So it's okay. I won't force you."

"Is it really okay? I think it was really rude of me to just… drop you."

"Well… yeah."

Aya wrings her hands together. "I'm sorry too."

"It’s kind of my fault, too. I guess I am going about this too fast."

"Hmm, it's not exactly that. It did surprise me, but I think it's sweet that you and even Haruichi are already thinking of me as family."

"Then what's up?"

"I think I just… want to stay low-key? You saw how my clubmates reacted. I don't want everyone else suddenly cooing at me and at the development in our relationship."

Ryousuke looks back down at her. "So that's why."

Aya nods, smiling nervously up at him.

That makes him smile reassuringly. "Okay. I can live with that." 

"Thank you."

He then smirks. "Besides, you'll be the first one to slip up anyway."

Aya groans. "Oh, I already kind of did with Kazuya and Mochi, and now they won't let me live it down."

"'Mochi?'"

"Huh?"

"Who is that?"

"Uh, your partner in the field? Seidou's shortstop, Kuramochi? Oh my god, does no one else call him that?"

"Hehh?" he says in his characteristic teasing tone even as he turns away from her. "A nickname." His hand starts to ball into a fist. "To think you insist on being formal with me but have nicknames for other guys."

Aya giggles before grabbing his hand, pulling them both to a stop. "Ryou."

“Now you call me that?”

Aya opens his fist to intertwine her smaller hand into his. And then she brings their joined hands to her lips to lightly kiss each of his knuckles.

Ryousuke freezes, his own lips parting open.

"Don't be jealous, please? Just think of it like this. Since we're laying low for a while, I'll call you 'Ryou' when it's just the two of us." She steps closer to him to look into his eyes. "Isn't that more intimate?"

He gulps and looks away. "Just drop his nickname."

"Permanently? But he's one of my best friends."

Ryousuke sighs, looking back down at her. "Then at least when you talk about him to me." Not like you should even be, though.

"Okay." She stands up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Are we good now?"

Ryousuke feels like his soul had flown out of his body. He takes a deep breath to calm down, and then touches his forehead with hers. “You know, you missed.”

Aya pushes back from him with a laugh. “And you know what? I’m finally here!” She takes her bag from him and walks backwards to her apartment building's entrance. “Thanks for walking me home again, Ryou. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He could only chuckle in reply. The afternoon sunlight now falls on the side of his face, but this time, it makes him glow with joy.

"Ryousuke!" Isashiki's voice rings through the team's own mess hall the next day at breakfast.

"So loud in the morning," the pink-haired teen mutters, taking his seat at the seniors' usual table.

"You disappeared again after practice. Don't tell me you were out with your girlfriend!"

He picks his chopsticks up. "I was."

The place falls silent. A tray even falls to the floor.

"Th-that joke's old!" Jun replies. "It won't work on me anymore!"

He swallows his first bite. "Oh? But I'm not kidding this time."

Heads turn to the next best source of information: Kominato Haruichi.

The poor boy startles and looks to his brother for help. "A-Aniki…"

Ryousuke chuckles. "She wants to stay low-key, though. Maybe you're scaring her off, Jun?"

"Shut up! I won't believe it until I see it!"

He shrugs. "Suit yourself."

From the other table, Kuramochi asks, "But Ryou-san, won't your favorite artist get jealous?"

'Mochi.' Ryousuke had expected he'd be annoyed when he sees his underclassman, but now he realizes the nickname's a bit funny. He gives a strained smile to stifle a laugh. "Why would she be jealous of herself?"

"Who?" Jun asks.

"Just shut up." Ryousuke resumes eating, but continues to watch Aya's classmates from his peripheral.

Kuramochi laughs heartily as he nudges the bespectacled catcher sitting beside him. 

Miyuki loses his smile.

 Jealousy, Aya discovers, comes unexpectedly in different kinds.

She had heard that dating someone from the baseball team is hard because he'd have almost no time for you. And that being in a relationship with someone from a different grade often leads to clashes in schedule.

Now, Aya has to deal with both.

They can’t meet after morning practices. The boys have to freshen up before proceeding to morning classes, so the best interaction she and Ryousuke would have are discreet smiles whenever he would spot her watching outside the field. 

They can’t meet during lunch breaks. Recently, Miyuki has been ordering from her more often, and because that’s the only time she could sit down and talk with her cousin now, she stays and eats with him.

And during weekends, it’s either they are both studying for finals or Ryousuke has extra practice.

Aya would always have to wait for afternoon practice to end. It’s either she could be found sketching on a bench outside the practice field, or in her club room every other day when the art club is scheduled to meet. Then, they would take a detour to non-crowded streets on the way to Aya's apartment building, just to avoid getting seen by anyone from school as they hold hands or simply walk closer than normal friends would.

This has gone on for two weeks.

We’re nearing a month into this relationship now. Aya presses closer to Field A’s fence. I did say I want him to focus on Nationals, but now… She heaves a deep sigh to temporarily get rid of her thoughts and refocus on the morning practice. 

At the moment, Haruichi is on a roll in a batting cage while his older brother watches.

The competition for the jersey numbers is still fierce, especially with the second baseman brothers. Haruichi's progressive skills make him a likely candidate for the roster. But as long as Ryousuke is in the team, Haruichi couldn’t play unless Ryousuke gets subbed out. And would Ryousuke even allow that?  

But looking at her boyfriend's back, Aya could sense a faint yellow aura. The color of caution, of warning signs. Even if he hides it well, she knows Ryousuke is threatened by his prodigy brother.

Alas, Ryousuke picks up his bat to head towards another batting cage. But not without stopping in his tracks to look straight at Aya.

Again. He knows I've been here all this time. This has been happening more often now.

Ryousuke then breaks into a grin.

It's like… a sunflower drawn to his sun. Feeling her cheeks warm up, Aya smiles back and gives a shy wave.

Ryousuke nods as a silent morning greeting before continuing on his way.

Time may be Aya's enemy right now, but she has to admit that these limited moments they share, no matter how small, leaves her glowing with happiness that's as bright as the summer days. 

The next day, the students receive the results of their final exams.

“As expected!” Aya almost shoves her graded papers in Miyuki’s face. “You can never score higher than me. So I still won’t make your lunch for free!”

Miyuki sighs defeatedly. “Aren’t creative people supposed to be creative only?”

Aya gasps. “Then sporty people should only be sporty too!” She smirks. “Then again, you suck at other sports besides baseball, so I can’t really call you a sports guy.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m surprised, Aya,” Kuramochi says with a teasing grin. He distributes among their trio the lunchboxes Aya had made for them. “Having a boyfriend aside from being busy with your commissions still doesn’t stop you?”

Aya suddenly turns back to her desk to put her papers back. She mutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, Kuramochi,” Miyuki says quietly, opening his lunchbox. “She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kuramochi scoffs. “Maybe if you let her go on lunch dates every once in a while…”

Aya freezes and looks up at her cousin.

Miyuki gives their friend a deadpan stare.

“Wow, Kazuya,” Aya says. She smiles mischievously. “So that’s what this is all about.”

He turns to his food and picks up his chopsticks. “No. I just wanted to have good meals this season.”

“Sure you do~”

He looks up at her. “What am I keeping you here for, Aya? You don’t have someone else to meet during lunch, do you? You said you don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Kuramochi nudges his arm. “Hey.”

Aya blinks. “R-right. Yeah. I don’t have one.” She lightly hits Kuramochi’s arm. “Stop making issues.”

Kuramochi rolls his eyes. “You two really are a family.”

 “You got the no. 4 jersey!”

“Yeah.”

“And I got the highest test results in our class!”

“Really? Congrats.”

“And Haruichi got included in the roster! What’s his jersey number?”

“…19.”

Aya squeals. “This is really a good day!” And then she sighs. “Except for Kazuya being too weird again.”

Ryousuke stifles his own sigh. “Really? I haven’t heard about this yet.”

She purses her lips. “Did you tell him something?”

“No. We don’t really talk outside of practice.”

“It’s just… whenever Mo-" she clears her throat as Ryousuke lightly scoffs, "whenever Kuramochi would start teasing me about having a boyfriend, Kazuya would suddenly get annoyed. He’s not even subtle about it, which means he must be really pissed. And I don’t understand because he used to always tease me about you! But now that we’re actually a couple…"

Ryousuke hums in thought. “I didn’t take him to be the overprotective type.”

“Overprotective?” Aya frowns. “But he already knows you, so what is there to be fussy about? Would you be the same if Haruichi gets into a relationship?” 

"I wonder. But it's not like that's on his mind right now, though."

"Yeah, because you could totally tell." And then she stops walking. “Wait, is this a new detour? I think this is the opposite way from my apartment.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m not taking you home yet.” 

Aya gasps in fake horror. “Is this what Kazuya is protecting me from?”

Ryousuke chuckles before taking her hand as they round the corner. “If he doesn’t want you to be happy, then I guess it is.” 

They stop in front of a café Aya had once mentioned wanting to visit. 

Now, Aya gasps in actual shock. “Ryou…”

“It’s a weekday so I don’t want us to be out late, but we’ve been together for one month now. I at least want to celebrate that.”

She tears her gaze away from the establishment and up towards Ryousuke. “You remembered.”

“Of course I would.” He tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Especially since you’ve been really pouty these past few days. Are you sure you still want to keep this a secret? Because this prevents you from spending all your free time with me, so now you’re missing me too much.”

Aya feels her cheeks warm up, though she’s not sure if it’s out of embarrassment for being too obvious, or because she suddenly finds that cockiness… attractive.

He gestures with his head towards the door. “Shall we?”

Aya nods. “O-okay.”

As Ryousuke leads them inside, only one thought crosses his mind. Now, please stop talking about other guys when we’re together.

 Today is the last day of school for students without club activities this summer. It is also the day after Seidou had triumphed over Maimon West in their first qualifying match.

The sun shines bright through the windows, seemingly giving spotlight to the third-year starters - Yuuki Tetsuya, Masuko Tooru, Isashiki Jun, and Kominato Ryousuke - as they walk through the hallways. Their fellow third-years crowd around them, congratulating them and promising to watch the next games.

Aya smiles proudly. Aside from the resounding cheers from upstairs, she had also spotted freshmen cheerleaders peeking into Class 1-B earlier, most likely spying on the two of the three first-year players yesterday. 

This game had not only showcased Seidou’s powerful batting lineup, but also officially debuted the first-year players - Furuya Satoru, Sawamura Eijun, and of course, Kominato Haruichi. 

If they get fangirls, that would mean more commission requests, right? 

But then she reaches a classroom that apparently has another kind of commotion.

Kuramochi is once again shouting at Miyuki's face as he holds the catcher by the collar, while Miyuki only laughs off everything the enraged boy says.

"They're fighting again?” a female classmate asks. “But they're always together."

"They don't have any friends," another replies.

"They have Makoto-san, though," a third classmate adds, following it with a giggle.

"I can hear you, you know," Aya says from the doorway.

"Oh!" the same classmate exclaims, and then smiles sheepishly. "Good morning, Makoto-san! Do you think you could break them up again?"

Aya sighs. This is certainly a sad reputation. She marches up to the two. "Hey, Mochi! I see you’re still overflowing with adrenaline from yesterday’s game."

The boys look at her in sync.

"But I need to take my seat now, so please…?"

"Tch." Kuramochi's frown stays, but he lets go and walks away without another word.

"What is it this time?" Aya asks, hanging her bag on the hook at her desk. 

"It's nothing," Miyuki answers with a chuckle, fixing his uniform.

Aya sits down sideways and props an arm on her backrest to keep slightly facing him. "Sure it is. Good thing you have me, the saving grace of this trio of loners."

"I don't know, Aya." Miyuki props his chin on his hand as he leans forward on his desk. "Are you sure you're still one?"

Aya raises a brow. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Miyuki heaves a big sigh and sits back on his chair. "You're really gonna keep that act up, huh?"

“Oh, Kazuya. You’re just like me. You're in denial.” 

“Of what?”

“Of being jealous of someone taking your cousin’s time away from you. Not like there’s much to begin with, though.”

“So you’re basically admitting.”

Aya shrugs. “No point in lying to you now, so you might as well come clean too.” She smirks.

Just then, the bell rings. The students start to move back to their desks.

Miyuki smirks back at her. “Whaaat? I can’t hear you over the bell!”

Aya rolls her eyes before sitting properly, just as the teacher enters the room.

 Seidou plays against Murata East the next day, and it ends as another called game after Captain Yuuki hits a homerun.

Outside, Aya waits among the crowd to catch a glimpse of the team exiting the stadium.

“Miyuki-kun~!” a group of girls calls out when the famous catcher comes into view.

Aya does her best not to cringe. She understands why he has so many fangirls, but it just feels weird to hear people gush over someone she knows not just by looks, but as a person - insecurities, quirks, habits that may not be easily understood by others.

Is this what Kazuya feels now when he thinks about me and Ryou?   

The coach walks over to the team to give them instructions before they watch the next game.

But since Aya did not buy tickets for that, she has to leave ahead of them. As soon as she starts to walk away, her phone vibrates, so she stops to pull it out of her uniform skirt's pocket.

It’s our second game already and I still don’t hear you calling out for me? Isn’t Aya supposed to be my biggest fan?

She looks back at the team to see Ryousuke staring at her from afar with an obvious smirk. She types back: Am I supposed to? It’s enough that I came to watch!

Ryousuke chuckles when he sees the message, and then looks back up to wave goodbye to her. 

Of course, some of his teammates see that. But before they could spot her and connect the dots, Aya turns around and speed-walks toward the bus that would take her back to the school.

 With classes finally out of the way, Aya now has more time to watch practices. But even if Seidou had two practice days before their match against Akikawa Academy, Aya could only watch on the second day, because the media had hounded Field A the day before to cover Seidou first.

However, instead of practicing, everyone is lining up in front of the coach. 

Aya walks closer to the fence.

“To prepare for the game tomorrow,” Coach Kataoka says, “we’re wrapping up practice.”

Aya almost drops her sketchbook. So much for waking up early.

The coach finishes his instructions and dismisses the boys.

Aya remains standing there, her eyes trailing her boyfriend who is picking up his equipment from the dugout. Should I ask Ryou to eat lunch with me? But what if he has plans?

Ryousuke goes back out in the field, but stops a few ways away from his friends. “Haruichi.” 

She gasps. Did he just…?

“Join me when I hit off the tee later,” Ryousuke continues.

The younger Kominato gasps. 

Even his friends - Masuko, Yuuki, Isashiki, and Kuramochi - stop talking among themselves to watch them.

“Are you sure I’m good enough?” Haruichi asks.

Ryousuke chuckles. “What are you saying? You can hit, too. So, later!”

Now, if Ryousuke's friends are fondly dumbfounded, Aya squeals and jumps in giddiness. Now this makes it worth waking up early.

 “You finally talked to him!” 

“To who?”

“To Haruichi!”

“Of course I talk to him. He’s my brother.”

Aya nudges his arm. “You know what I mean! You talked to him in front of the others! It’s so cute.”

“Shut up.” Ryousuke takes another bite of his lunch.

Aya giggles. “I really like this shy side of yours, Ryou. It's so adorable.”

Ryousuke almost coughs up a lung. 

“Whoa, are you okay?”

“Stop attacking me like that!” He coughs harder.

Aya hands him his water bottle, biting her lip to avoid laughing.

“You always do this," he says when he calms down. "Maybe you need to pay for it.”

“This better not be…”

Ryousuke smirks. “Cheer for me tomorrow.”

“Ryou!”

“Aren't you inspired by me? I apparently overcame my hypothetical shyness to talk to Haruichi in front of the team.”

"Nope." Aya purses her lips, and then instantly brightens up. “But I do know how to pay you back.”

“And how…” Ryousuke trails off as Aya suddenly moves closer to him.

She raises a hand to cup one side of his face. She leans in, making sure to lock eyes with him. Her thumb brushes his lower lip slowly... until she wipes off a stray rice grain. And then she merely pecks his cheek before moving away so fast. 

Ryousuke’s mouth now hangs open.

“You had something on your face. I didn’t want you to go back to the field with it.”

“Why do you keep missing?” Ryousuke whispers, turning away to hide a smile.

 Unlike in practice games, more and more people are now finding time in their summer schedule to attend the increasingly intense official games.

Bottom of the first inning, one out. With Kuramochi failing to get on base, Ryousuke steps up for his first at-bat against Akikawa’s clockwork pitcher, Shunshin You.

"Ryou-san!"

Unlike in practice games, Ryousuke's fangirls are now also here. Closer to Aya. Sitting around Aya.

She has always been aware of them, and it definitely isn’t her first time to hear them cheer him on. But why does it make her feel unpleasant now? Besides, it’s the team’s third game already, and Ryousuke has been playing very well. It’s understandable that he would gain more support.

"Ryousuke-san!"

Yet a little spark in her stomach starts up and threatens to grow.

"If you're so annoyed with it," her art club senior, who had come to watch the game too, leans on her shoulder to whisper, "why don't you just publicly lay your claim on him?"

Aya keeps her eyes on the field. "That's pretty vulgar, senpai." She clears her throat. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not his only fan, Makoto-chan. He's amazing, and girls in our batch have always known that." The third-year lightly pinches Aya's cheek to make the younger girl look at her. "You can't blame them for calling him appropriately." 

Aya swats her hand away and sighs. "I'm going to get bullied for it."

"No way. You're the only masochist to develop romantic feelings for him."

"What?"

Her senior laughs. "Just go greet him outside. Today would be the best time, because we're finally out of our school uniforms. And nothing says 'cute girlfriend' than your look today."

Aya consciously touches her hair before looking down at her sleeveless yellow dress. Because the weather has reached 30° today, she had styled her hair into a braided ponytail and picked out the lightest dress she could find in her closet, not taking into account its knee-length frilly skirt. She shakes her head. "I just think it's unnecessary and childish…" she mutters, turning back to the game.

Ryousuke uses his signature strategy: rack up fouls to tire out the pitcher. The eighth pitch is thrown high, so Ryousuke does not swing anymore. Because surely it would be called a ball, which would give him a free pass to first base.

Except it isn't.

"Strike!" the umpire shouts just as the pink-haired batter steps forward.

“What?” Aya exclaims. "But how?"

"I think the umpire's impressed with the pitcher," her senior answers. "He does keep throwing into the catcher's mitt."

"No…" Aya frowns. "Is that why they call him 'clockwork?'"

Ryousuke remains standing there, disbelief clear in his stance.

“Hey, Makoto-chan.” Her senior pokes Aya's arm. “Is he seriously thinking of fighting the umpire?”

She gulps. “I – he can’t be, right?”

Alas, Ryousuke straightens up and walks back to the dugout.

To beat Akikawa's clockwork pitcher, Kuramochi's speed and Ryousuke's strategic batting would be keys to put pressure on him. But now it had failed right on the first try. And that unlucky streak only continues.

Isashiki got on base, and Yuuki was able to hit the baseball far. Their left fielder desperately goes after it, only to fall flat on his face… but the ball lands straight into his glove.

A miracle. Aya slumps her shoulders. If Akikawa continues to make lucky plays like this...

At the bottom of the third inning, the batting lineup goes back up to Kuramochi. But because Shunshin is also great at fielding, he prevents Kuramochi from even stepping on first base.

And now, Ryousuke is back in the batter's box. He does not swing at the first pitch, but…

"Strike!"

"Again?" Aya almost shouts. "But that was so close to outside!"

Shunshin throws the next pitch.

And apparently, it's a breaking ball that pushes Ryousuke to swing and hit the baseball… straight back to the pitcher. A deciding out to end the third inning.

Once again, Ryousuke remains standing in place. He now glares at Shunshin, who stares him back down.

“Makoto-chan,” her senior says, “your boyfriend’s seriously pissed today.”

Aya crosses her arms. “Well, who wouldn’t be? That clockwork pitcher has gotten the umpire on his side! Ryou can’t even bully him now!”

The third-year raises her eyebrow in amusement. "Wow, I guess that makes you compatible."

The gloom finally lifts at the fourth inning when Coach Kataoka switches Furuya with the southpaw first-year, Sawamura (though it had still caused quite a scene when Furuya refused to give him the ball at first), because his presence ignites a fire in the team. After he gets the last out of the inning, Seidou starts the fifth with the cleanup batters, where Miyuki takes Isashiki and Yuuki home and finally ties the game. Defense has become sharper too because he is pitching with confidence.

But the batting lineup goes back to Kuramochi, and he strikes out. Ryousuke hits the baseball, but it goes straight to a fielder's glove once more, ending the fifth inning.

“Mochi… Ryou… what’s happening?” Aya bites her nails in worry.

The game then enters a standstill as both teams keep failing to score a run that would break the tie. That is, until the bottom of the seventh inning.

"Seidou High School has called for a substitution," the announcer says.

Aya gasps as she spots the new jersey number in the on-deck circle.

"Replacing Number 8, Sakai-kun: pinch hitter, Kominato Haruichi-kun!"

Aya immediately stands in her seat and shouts, “Let’s go, Haruichi!”

Her senior pulls her to sit back down. “How could you be so enthusiastic over your boyfriend’s brother than for your boyfriend himself?”

“Are you kidding me? Ryou is most likely as proud as I am right now!” She points to the younger Kominato taking his position. “Just watch.”

The thing with Haruichi is that pitchers tend to get haughty when they see a small boy using a wooden bat and stepping over the plate. What they don't know is that they are walking right into the bait.

Like today, for example. To attempt to intimidate him, Shunshin throws an inside pitch to Haruichi’s knees.

And like usual, Haruichi steps in just as the ball is released. And then he expertly hits it far towards left field. Taking advantage of the fielders’ bewilderment, Haruichi reaches first base and raises his arm for a fist pump as a blush overtakes his cheeks.

Cue Haruichi’s fangirls screaming over it. Including a certain brunette.

Sawamura, who has a history of not hitting any pitch at all, loudly steps into the field next. But he silently and professionally bunts to advance Haruichi to second base. And the crowd gets amusingly amazed.

“Wow! Perfect!”

“Why is he only good at bunts?”

“Nice one, Bunt Master!”

And now, Kuramochi is back in the batter's box.

The atmosphere grows tense as the Seidou bleachers and dugout cheer him on.

Aya fidgets with her hands as she mutters, "Fourth chance, Mochi. Please don't get shut down again."

Shunshin throws the first pitch, and Kuramochi smashes it to the right. Without wasting any time, he uses his cheetah legs to take him to first base.

The Akikawa fielder snatches the ball from the ground and gets ready to throw to first base. But Akikawa has run out of miracle plays.

"Oh, his hand slipped!"

"Akikawa made an error!"

And Kuramochi steps on the white bag.

“Finally, Mochi!” Aya shouts along with the wild crowd. She then clutches her senior's arm. "We're on a roll! We totally shook Akikawa up!"

Her senior chuckles. "Yeah, and now—"

"And now Ryou's up to bat!" Aya interrupts with a giggle before looking back at the field, her eyes zooming in to her boyfriend.

Just then, even without a lead, Kuramochi takes off again. Haruichi runs too, and Seidou takes second and third base.

Aya suddenly pauses, her eyes flitting from Ryousuke standing readily in the batter's box to Haruichi crouching on third. She gasps. "Oh my god!"

"Yeah," her senior says, "Kuramochi's taking revenge!" 

"The brothers!"

"What?" 

"The brothers are playing in the same field! In an official game!" Aya inches forward right then, drowning out her senior’s response as she focuses back on the field.

As soon as Shunshin moves to pitch, Kuramochi starts to run again, and Ryousuke changes his grip on his bat for a squeeze play.

In that split second, the Clockwork pitcher throws the baseball outside the strike zone.

But at this point, Ryousuke has been backed into a corner by Shunshin and the umpire enough. He would not give this up now. In his race against the catcher to get to the ball first, Ryousuke lands on his side, but successfully taps the ball away from home plate. And in an instant, he is up and running towards first base.

And Haruichi is right behind him to score a run for Seidou!

The ball rolls toward the mound, and Shunshin quickly picks it up. He throws it to first base to stop the older Kominato, not noticing Kuramochi already on third base and sneakily racing towards home plate.

But it's too late. The ball is in the air just as Akikawa desperately shouts over each other.

The first baseman catches the ball and throws it to home just as Kuramochi slides in.

"Safe!" the umpire shouts.

The crowd goes wild.

"Wow, two runs!"

"That's some super fast sliding!"

"His speed is like cheating!"

Aya, meanwhile, covers her mouth as if she could be heard among the crowd. Because her heart continues to beat so fast as her eyes continue to follow Ryousuke still advancing in the field.

The first baseman recovers from the shock to call out to their catcher still holding the ball.

But Ryousuke already reaches second base. 

"Nice run!"

“Nice run, Ryou!” Aya screams along in celebration, small tears of joy at the corners of her eyes. 

The Kominato brothers and Kuramochi combo starts an onslaught. Since then, Seidou continues to shut Akikawa down, scoring 3 more runs in the inning. Kawakami gets sent out to close the last two innings, and he does not allow Akikawa any more runs. 

With a score of 7-2, Seidou advances to the quarterfinal.

 The sun is shining brighter now, bathing the field with more light and warmth as the day approaches noon. It boosts Aya's happiness as she walks out of the bleachers along with the rest of the crowd.

"Oh, I still can't stop thinking about earlier!" a girl walking in front of Aya says, nudging her companion.

For some reason, this catches Aya's attention. She recognizes the two girls as Seidou students.

"Do you mean the seventh inning?" the other girl asks with a big grin.

Say no.

"Yes!"

The two friends squeal together. "Ryousuke-kun!"

And just like that, the spark in Aya's stomach reappears.

The girl in front continues, "The little brother and Kuramochi may have scored those runs, but they wouldn't have done it without him!"

The spark grows and spreads throughout her whole body, warming her up. She steps out of the stadium and meets the bright sunlight, but she knows it's not just the reason her eyes are stinging.

Yellow.

Ryousuke wears it like a brand.

Kazuya's aura spikes up in it quite often now.

And it's what she's currently coated in.

Jealousy because of people, as Aya had found out from those two, is the kind that is most irrational and all-consuming.

The kind of jealousy she never thought she would experience.

"Makoto-chan!"

The sudden shake on her shoulder makes Aya jump.

"Are you okay?" her senior asks. "I've been talking to you for a while now."

"S-sorry."

"Are we going back to the bus or do you want to wait for the team to come out?"

Refocusing on her surroundings, Aya sees Miyuki's fangirls right outside the stadium. They are getting ready to shout his name in an attempt to get his attention. To lay their claim…

"Woah, Makoto-chan!" her senior exclaims.

Aya drags her to the front of the crowd, right next to the noisy bunch.

"So I guess this answers my question. But why here?"

"I uh, want to see him right away…"

Just then, the names of the coach and the players ring out above the cheers and applause. 

The first set of players are exiting the stadium. Among them is Ryousuke, glowing with joy because of the victory. He is walking in between his friends, and as usual, is discreetly searching the crowd for her.

This is it. Aya's heart pounds. He would see me right away and I have to—

"MIYUKI-KUN!" One of the fangirls suddenly blocks her from view as their group starts to call out and wave frantically.

"Seriously?" Aya frowns as she watches Ryousuke pass by obliviously.

Her senior giggles. "Guess you don't have to try hard in hiding today… hey, where are you going?"

Aya weaves carefully, but with urgency, through the cheering crowd. Being short makes it hard for people to notice her – it’s  good for moving about, but it puts her at risk of getting elbowed in the face. Alas, she finds a free space in front again. 

Ryousuke finally spots her. He gives her a small smile before passing her by.

She suddenly hears giggles behind her, so she looks over her shoulder to find the two girls from earlier, as well as some schoolmates, looking at the players. This would be good. Aya takes a deep breath and calls out as loud as she could, "Ryou!"

The pink-haired third-year whirls around in shock.

Masuko, Isashiki, and even Yuuki who are walking with him also stop and turn, their eyes settling on the short brunette.

"Aya?" Ryousuke says cautiously.

She smiles brightly and waves.

His confused expression instantly turns into a happy grin. He then hurries back towards her. 

His friends stand still in shock, especially the usually loud Isashiki who now stares with his jaw hanging open. Meanwhile, their teammates coming up from behind them give Ryousuke a curious look. 

He finally stops in front of her. "Hey, Aya."

Seeing his excited smile, and the way he does not care at all about the people around them just to get to her, almost makes her swoon forward. She holds onto the long sleeve of his undershirt for balance. "I… I watched the game," she almost whispers.

Ryousuke chuckles. "Yes, I can see that."

She grins. "And I want to congratulate you! You were so amazing back there, especially when you caused the runs in the seventh inning!"

He chuckles again, now with a hint of embarrassment. "Don't say it like that. They got on base and I followed through."

"But still, you were very cool."

His grin grows wider. "Thank you, Aya." Then he drops his voice so that only the two of them can hear. "And it is a bit refreshing to be with you like this in public."

"Well…” She steps closer, enough to smell the mix of his natural scent and after-game sweat. She takes both of his hands in hers. "Maybe I don't want to keep it a secret anymore?"

"It's because she got jealous," someone suddenly comments beside her, breaking the moment.

They step away from each other, but do not drop their linked hands.

Recognizing Aya's club senior, Ryousuke asks, "What?"

"You've got fangirls, Kominato-kun."

"Ohhh."

Aya tugs at his hands to make him look back at her. "No, that's not it! Don't listen to her!"

"Of course, Aya!" Ryousuke lets go of one of her hands to pat her head. "I would only believe my girlfriend."

Her mouth hangs open.

Ryousuke now smirks, as if asking, Isn't that what you want to prove to them? "Anyway, I'll see you later. We have to watch the next game."

"Oh, right! Sorry."

"Don't mind that." He squeezes her hand. "This made my day better."

When Ryousuke finally reaches the bus, his fellow third-year teammates who are waiting for him outside greet him with teasing punches on the shoulder and pats on the back. Even Captain Yuuki gives him a thumbs-up sign. And Isashiki shouts in mock outrage when Ryousuke says something to him.

"Makoto-san, you're scary."

"I didn't know you had it in you!"

Aya turns around.

Ryousuke's fangirls are smiling at her.

"Congratulations! Though, everyone saw it coming."

"Yeah, it would have sucked if you two didn't end up together."

"And you two were not very good at hiding it, either!"

Aya is reeling from all the comments, but only manages to respond to the last one. "We aren't?"

Her senior pats her back. "What did I tell you?"

Aya sighs in relief. "Yeah, that felt good.” Her eyes then widen in realization, and she hides her face in her hands. "And embarrassing! I can't believe I just did that!" 

The fangirls coo at her, and her senior had to lead her to the bus that would take them back to Seidou.

On their way, Aya finally recovers enough to glance at the team's bus… just in time to see Miyuki watching her with a non-amused expression.

 Previous: Ryousuke and Aya

[scintillating-galaxias]

one hundred and seventy-ninth time's a charm

Drift and Rodimus spend the evening talking about crushes and what to do about them. Namely, Rodimus talks about his crush, and Drift tells him what to do about it.

(read it here on ao3!)

Drift really should have stayed in his hab suite tonight.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Rodimus thumped his fist against the table, rattling the several empty cubes around him. “I’m gonna die, Drift.”

“You’re not going to die,” Drift said.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“About?” As if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Him! Thunderclash!” Yep. “I can’t—ugh!” Rodimus threw his arms up and petulantly slouched in his seat.

“Wow,” Drift said, drawing out the first w in disbelief.

“Drift,” Rodimus moaned. He slowly sunk to lay facedown across the tabletop. Drift didn’t look away from his datapad as he lifted his servo and sympathetically patted Rodimus’ helm. “He’s so fraggin’ nice and noble and pretty. How does he make a color scheme like that work for him? Red legs and teal arms and a yellow face? How? It’s so unfair.”

Drift merely shook his helm while Rodimus mumbled into the table. Hm. It looked like Ultra Magnus’ citation count was beginning to tick up again (“—and so tall and I bet he’d be stupid good at hugging and—”). Reckless behavior, vandalism, destruction of personal property, encouraging unnecessary violence. All clear signs that the Lost Light needed to find a place to stay for a while so its passengers could blow off some steam (“—and his laugh is all deep, and it gets in my chest, and it makes me feel all floaty? It’s weird.”). He’d have to pass the suggestion on to Ultra Magnus himself or Megatron at some point, seeing as their first in command was currently otherwise… occupied.

“—you think he likes me? He smiles and compliments me all the damn time, but maybe I’m wrong and I think he’s just being nice to me when he’s actually nice to everyone?”

“Have you considered,” Drift began with the weariness of someone who has had this exact conversation no less than one hundred and seventy-eight times with no results, “that if you didn’t very obviously and dramatically avoid every conversation with him, you’d find out?”

Rodimus paused. Then he turned his helm towards Drift. “Is it obvious?”

“Painfully so.”

“What should I do then?”

“I have a two-step solution for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Number one.” Drift put up one digit and waited for Rodimus to focus on it. When he blearily did, Drift said shortly, “Have a normal conversation with him that doesn’t involve compliments disguised as insults and-and-or running away. You’re sending messages that are mixed to the point where he doesn’t want to approach you for fear of offending you. Trust me, I asked.” And he had. After weeks of hovering, it was clear Thunderclash didn’t want to step on the lines in the sand Rodimus had unintentionally drawn. Drift, having been watching the dance between the two of them for far too long, decided to step in then.

Rodimus winced but didn’t deny it. “Can do,” he said easily. “What’s step two?”

“Step two is to ask him out.”

Rodimus sputtered and shot straight back up, mouth gaping. “Are you crazy?” he asked with a slight squeak to his voice. “I can’t just—do that.”

Normally at this point, Drift would shrug and say, if you say so. Rodimus would huff and bluster for a few more moments before pointedly avoiding this particular point of conversation like the rust plague for the duration of the night. And that was that. 

But Drift, to be frank, had had enough. One hundred and seventy-ninth time’s a charm.

He shot Rodimus a frown. “Why not?”

Rodimus sputtered. “‘Cause he’s Thunderclash! And I’m—”

“A very capable, determined, wonderful mech who is not about to tell me that he is unworthy of Thunderclash’s potential romantic interest in him,” Drift cut in firmly, narrowing his optics.

“Sure,” Rodimus huffed. “But there’s also no way he’s gonna say yes.”

Drift thought for a moment. Should he mention that Thunderclash had been staring at Rodimus for as long as they’ve been at Swerve’s? Or reveal he had a ten-minute long audio file of Thunderclash talking about all the things he liked about Rodimus’ smile? Or admit it had been Thunderclash who had anonymously gifted Rodimus his favorite spray paint set? Hmm. He could. Or…

“You’re right,” he eventually said with a woebegone sigh. “He won’t. Because you’ll never ask.”

Rodimus narrowed his optics. “You’re doing it again,” he accused, jabbing an accusatory digit at Drift. “The reverse psychology thing. It’s not gonna work.”

Drift dramatically rolled his helm as he ignored Rodimus and continued, “You won’t ask, and you’ll never get to be held in those big, strong arms…”

A telltale heat shimmer began to warp the air around Rodimus’ exhaust pipes. “Stop that.”

“And you’ll never get to kiss his pretty face—”

“Drift.”

He stared Rodimus right in the optic. “You won’t get the chance to suck his—”

“Drift!” Rodimus yelped, slapping a servo over Drift’s mouth while barely smothering his laughter. “Shut up, oh my God.”

Drift snorted and peeled Rodimus’ servo off of his face. Then he wound his digits between Rodimus’ and tugged him in close. “Rodimus, I need you to listen to me,” he said somberly. Rodimus’ smile faded slightly. “I love and care for you very deeply. You know that, right?”

“I wonder sometimes, but yeah.” Drift squeezed his servo just on the side of too tight. “Ow, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I know, Drift.”

“That’s why I need you to promise me you’ll at least try to talk to Thunderclash.”

Rodimus’ field twisted with uncertainty. “I mean, you were right, earlier,” he said offhandedly. “I dunno if he even wants to talk to me now. I’ve kinda fragged things between us up a lot.”

“Stop trying to convince yourself of a fact you don’t know for certain is true. Besides, Thunderclash isn’t the type to hold a grudge. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if you apologize first."

But Rodimus still didn’t look convinced. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How are you so sure about all of this?”

Rodimus is the bravest and strongest mech I know. I’ve never seen such genuine conviction and determination in my many years of function. It’s hard to believe he’s of the same stuff as you and me.

I’ve heard many stories about Rodimus, some unsavory, some heroic, and some that fall in-between. But each one has only sought to prove his spark burns brighter and fiercer than anything in this universe.

Oh, what I would give to be able to tell him how truly wonderful he is! I’d tell him every day if he would allow it—And I’d much instead gain the courage to say that all to him myself one day, so my apologies for requesting you not share any of this with him, but I can’t bear the weight of my affections by myself a second longer—

“Primus has gifted me with wonderful intuition,” Drift said.

“...Ugh. Your intuition's always right.” Rodimus sighed. “Alright, fine. I’ll talk to him.”

Drift smiled a small, genuine smile. “You’re a good mech.” He patted Rodimus on the back and gently pushed him back. “Also, I am going to start locking you out of my hab suite every time you come to complain about your crush on him.”

Rodimus groaned and thunked his head against Drift’s shoulder. “I knew there was a catch. You’re the worst.”

“Interesting way to pronounce ‘helpful amica who wants his best friend to be happy because he deserves it.’” Drift took a sip of his drink and picked up his datapad. “Go get your mech, Rods.”

“What like, right now?” Rodimus asked with an incredulous hitch of laughter.

“Well, now that you’ve said it… yes.”

“Ugh.” Rodimus stole the rest of Drift’s drink and gulped it down in two swallows. Then he stood and rubbed his servos together furiously before blowing out a short, harsh exvent. “You owe me drinks here forever if you’re wrong, and this goes to Pit,” he hissed.

“It won’t,” Drift smiled.

Rodimus sighed again before striding over to where Thunderclash was sitting. The mech in question very hastily turned his helm away to pretend he was focusing on his drink, only to peek up bashfully when Rodimus came to a stop at his table. Rodimus shot a worried glance back at Drift, who smiled encouragingly. Rodimus’ spoilers flicked nervously before he turned back to Thunderclash with a slightly strained smile. His servo went to apologetically rest on the back of his helm, the other gesturing as he spoke. Thunderclash watched him with wide optics before a smile broke out across his face. He replied something with an earnest expression and a servo laid grandly over his spark that had Rodimus' spoilers sinking in relief.

Drift wasn’t sure what Rodimus said next. But whatever it was caused Thunderclash’s helm light to flare up with such a brilliant red glow, Drift had to reset his optics a couple of times to clear the spots from them. Seconds later, an overwhelming wave of pure joy washed over the room. It clearly emanated from the broad smile on Thunderclash’s face as he nodded enthusiastically, then gestured for Rodimus to sit down beside him. Mechs left and right turned to the source. But once they found it, most of them turned away with a fond shake of their helm, though some called out to the pair, and at least one mech definitely whistled.

Drift watched as Rodimus sank into his seat. He could tell by the unsteady descent of the motion instead of the practiced carelessness that Rodimus was more than a little dazed. His smile grew as he opened his comms with Rodimus only to find that he was already typing out a message for him.

.:he said yes:.

.:???:.

.:he said yes???:.

.:I told you he would.:.

.:i owe you:.

.:seriously:.

.:Tell me how it goes and I’ll consider your favor fulfilled.:.

.:I’m happy for you, Rodimus.:.

.:thanks:.

.:for everything.:.

Drift glanced up. Rodimus wasn’t looking at him—he was staring in shock at his servos, which were enclasped in Thunderclash’s—but the content glow of his optics told him everything he needed to know. He nodded once and went back to typing out his report. And if he included a couple of popular date spots as suggested places they visit on nearby planets, well. No one but him needed to know.

[goraturtle]

1 - 43 please!

WHEWWWWW, i told myself i’d do these questions for two of my main current ocs i play in weekly motw sessions, Astrid and Frankie, if i got any, so let’s goooooo

under a readmore bc this is long and i’m not evil

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Astrid - if she’s with someone? Astrid could probably sit in companionable silence for hours, and she’s very much a “falling asleep on people as a love language” kind of person, so if she trusts u and has time to kill she Will fall asleep on you. If she’s by herself waiting for something to happen or already twitchy to begin with? she could probably stand like 3 minutes before getting agitated and pacing around or finding something to do

Frankie - if she’s ever in a spot where she can’t think of anything to do, she will Find something to do and then get so absorbed in it she won’t move an inch over the course of literal hours. either that or if she’s with people she’ll be content to just laze around and hang out

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Astrid - not very easy at all, she’s more likely to roll her eyes at you if you try to say something funny or elbow you sharply in the ribs if she doesn’t approve of your joke lol

Frankie - extremely easy, frankie is generally pretty easygoing + especially loves to make other people laugh

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Astrid - this kid is kind of a mess so she’s very much one of those “go over everything in your head that could possibly go wrong in the future” kind of people, which, as you can imagine, doesn’t rlly help with sleep

Frankie - for plot reasons [tw terminal illness ///] (ie. Frankie is actually extremely ill and her backstory is that she came to town seeking a magical cure to save her own life) Frankie is usually so bone weary she doesn’t need a routine. From a young age she’s been good at falling asleep wherever/whenever she wants, but these days the second she hits a slightly cushioned piece of furniture, she’s out like a light (and also a very heavy sleeper)

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Astrid - surprisingly easy if you’re a decent person. she might still be slow to open up but that doesn’t mean that trust isn’t there. for all her prickliness, Astrid likes to believe in the good in people (to her frustration)

Frankie - Not that easy actually! Frankie likes to believe in the good in people too, but she tends to be highly suspicious of strangers

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Astrid - depends on the person, very VERY difficult if you’re someone she’s already trusted bc she has a hard time wrapping her head/heart around betrayal (even if she projects otherwise) but if you’re just some rando it’s easy to land yourself on her shitlist

Frankie - Also not easy, she doesn’t mistrust unless you give her a reason to. She’s just pretty neutral on people and tries to cover her bases until she’s got cause to believe otherwise

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Astrid - my baby was a thief for most of her life before getting scooped up and conscripted into being a superhero, so in general she does not give a shit about the law

Frankie - you know, for a law school dropout you’d think Frankie would care more about laws, but she doesn’t. not even a little bit.

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Astrid - I think seeing happy families for her is a unique trigger, reminds her of when her mom was still around and when her twin siblings were babies. She was separated from the twins for years, and has reconnected with one of them, so I think even spending time w/ her little sis has been triggering major nostalgia as well. She wants to tell her baby sister more about how things were (Caroline was too little to retain most memories from back then) but doesn’t want to push too hard, and doesn’t know how to open up about memories she’s kept close for years. The feeling is painful, but little by little she’s learning to cope w/ it and appreciate it.

Frankie - Happy families is probably a trigger for Frankie as well, since she left home after highschool after getting into a dumb argument w/ her dad. She was always going to go home after getting her law degree, but got her diagnosis + discovered the existence of magic and that changed everything. That nostalgia is extremely painful for her, and she tries to block it out as much as possible, since she knows that the next time she sees her parents it’ll either be after she figures out a cure for herself or once she gives up completely and goes home to accept her fate

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

Astrid - she was a bit of a gregarious wildchild so it was a lot of exasperated “get DOWN from there” “Astrid stop RUNNING” “Don’t forget to hold my hand when we cross the street!!!”s from her mom lol. poor woman.

Frankie - Frankie was a very shy little kid, so it was a lot of gentle coaxings from her parents for her to speak up

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

Astrid - fuck yeah she does, hers was probably “fuck you”

Frankie - absolutely. she probably swore the first time after hearing her dad cuss or something, so it’d be something like “son of a bitch” or something (her dad probably lost his mind laughing after he heard her say it, and her mom would NOT have been happy w him lol)

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Astrid - She hasn’t told her baby sister that she was a thief before her current gig, and that makes her feel bad honestly

Frankie - the lie by omission about her general health and why she came to town in the first place. it haunts her literally every single day.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Astrid - she does not ask questions, probably acts like she understands/is above the conversation but you could definitely catch her side-eyeing people or eavesdropping to try and understand

Frankie - outright is like ‘haha what’

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

Astrid - will scratch herself on every single inanimate object she can reach, scowling the entire time

Frankie - complain very loudly to incite sympathy and help

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Astrid - she generally wears a lot of black/dark blue. She looks good in dark blue, but she also looks great in brighter jewel tones (she won’t wear them though bc she thinks it’s ‘Too Much’)

Frankie - she wears a TON of color all the time, think tacky buttondowns every single day, but she thinks she looks best in that soft peachy kind of orange (and she’s absolutely right)

What animal do they fear most?

Astrid - *takes a long draw off an old wooden pipe* Mankind

Frankie - she was kind of woodsy as a kid, living in montana, so i don’t think she’s really afraid of any animals. maybe a healthy respect for bears? now that she’s a werewolf i don’t think she’s scared of any animals at all

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Astrid - definitely an on-the-spot thinker

Frankie - she’s very careful about what she says, generally, but she can blurt stuff out if she’s feeling emotional/not in control

What makes their stomach turn?

Astrid - cruelty in general. She’s lived a hard life and isnt afraid to punch hard, but she doesn’t understand delighting in someone’s suffering

Frankie - thoughts of impending inescapable death

Are they easily embarrassed?

Astrid - depends, most things won’t rattle her but I think genuine affection when she isn’t expecting it will get her a little flustered

Frankie - no she’s a rock. the only thing that could make her blush would be like a genuine romantic confession + someone being interested in her in that way

What embarrasses them?

whoops, see above

What is their favorite number?

Astrid - does not care

Frankie - 420

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

Astrid - she’d probably roll her eyes and be like “Don’t be stupid, do I really have to explain something so obvious to you?”

Frankie - “Well first of all if I wanna kiss them on the lips it’s romantic”

Why do they get up in the morning?

Astrid - more habit than anything most days, but she gets up for her little sister, for her teammates, and in the hopes that they’ll be able to find the other twin, her brother, very soon

Frankie - very much does not want to die or let down the people who have supported her since coming to down.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Astrid - she’d get possessive but ONLY in private, afterwards. Astrid would react off the cuff and get pretty pissy, but get even angrier at herself for lashing out + leave/avoid the person for a while to try and control herself

Frankie - I don’t think she’s used to being possessive so it would take her completely by surprise. She’d get very hurt, and wouldn’t necessarily be aloof, but she’d try to remove herself from the situation so she’s ‘not in the way’. She’d probably get pissed at herself for even feeling hurt, when it’s not like she’s in any position to be laying the foundation for a future anywhere

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

Astrid - thief, so. she will definitely just take that shit provided there’s nothing else to make her hesitate (ie. it’s not a special trinket/memento and provided the person she’s stealing from isn’t struggling to make ends meet)

Frankie - I can’t see her getting envious over a possession or anything honestly

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

Astrid - yeah, why not honestly. I think she’d be fine talking generally about it w/ anyone. She does NOT want to hear any details about her two madly in love middle aged coworkers fucking, though, please no

Frankie - definitely. not a lot of romantic experience, but Frankie is old hat at hookups/one night stands and doesn’t shy away from talking about it if asked. I think she’s more embarrassed about never having been in a real relationship than she is about her sexual history

What are their thoughts on marriage?

Astrid - her mom never got married (she has a different father from the twins, and in both cases the dad fucked off and left after her mom realized she was pregnant) and she is terrified of letting people down, so at the moment she isn’t rlly excited about that kind of thing. Her ex, Charlie, also betrayed her and hurt her pretty badly, and even though they were teenagers Astrid still thought of her as being The One, so she’s doubtful about ever finding or wanting to find a replacement. She’s still young and traumatized though, and I can easily see her mind changing

Frankie - literally domestic life would be bliss for her, but she doesn’t even let herself think about a serious relationship, let alone marriage, bc she does not anticipate living long

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Astrid - she had this shitty old 2003 chevy silverado she drove for years that she’s still got a soft spot for, even if she’ll swear up and down to any witness that she hates the damn thing

Frankie - she’s got a little prius-c bc i wanted to shove her into a clown car, but she grew up on her parents’ horse farm in montana and tbh. nothing can beat horseback for her.

What causes them to feel dread?

Astrid - these days? being alone/feeling exposed. She’s gotten used to her backup. Also thinking about her lost twin brother has been a major source of dread/pain for her lately

Frankie - when she wakes up in the morning and the body aches and chills are worse than the day before

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

Astrid - no and if she caught someone lying to her just to save her feelings she’d be SO mad, prepare to get ur ass beaten by this maladjusted 5′1 twenty five year old

Frankie - definitely not. which is hypocritical as hell for her, all things considered

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

Astrid - she sets very high standards for herself that she can’t possibly meet, so no. she’s still trying to feel like she belongs as a superhero

Frankie - usually, but obviously her lying about her health is a major blind spot where she becomes extremely hypocritical

Who do they most regret meeting?

Astrid - i’d say on the surface she says she regretted meeting her ex, Charlie, but that’s not true, not even a little bit. She’s still heartsick over everything that happened between them

Frankie - there was an incident with a werewolf hunter (who Frankie had helped to save the life of) going after Lou and Selene. Lou got shot (Frankie healed him) and the two of them had to kill her, which was obviously traumatizing for them. Frankie still wishes that they’d never even seen the hunter in the first place and regrets saving her life

Who are they the most glad to have met?

Astrid - when she was conscripted into the superhero biz and given her powers, she was put onto a team with two other supers named Arsenal and Bullet (the other player characters, real names are Heather and Cyrus), who are middle aged pros very used to the field. Astrid’s only 25 so they naturally kind of leaned into the parent relationship, and Astrid loves them so much. It was rocky at first because Astrid was adjusting and wasn’t even sure she wanted to be there, but they have been so patient and kind at this point i think Astrid would literally do anything for them

Frankie - the other player characters, again (two twins named Selene and Lou who are members of the local werewolf pack. Frankie got bit in the first session to see if a werewolf’s healing abilities could cure her. It didn’t work), but especially Selene. They’ve been bonding a lot lately and as much as Frankie wants to keep everyone at bay in case she fails and has to leave town in the middle of the night, everyone she’s met in town has made a big impact on her.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

Astrid - her only ‘joke’ is that she rolls her eyes constantly. in the early games when she was still too emotionally constipated to really chat with Arsenal/Heather and Bullet/Cyrus i made her roll her eyes like every 3 seconds. She doesn’t think she’s a very funny person and spent a lot of time growing up trying to focus on keeping herself fed/safe so she feels awkward trying to crack jokes + has a (correct) feeling that most of her ‘stories’ from her teenage years would horrify Heather and Cyrus

Frankie - she’s been very cagey about details about her personal life in-game, but I am very excited for her to tell the story about when a horse kicked her and broke 3 ribs when she was like 8

Could they be considered lazy?

Astrid - definitely not. this girl would not know how to relax if you paid her

Frankie - if she’s stoned? yes. (she self medicates)

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

Astrid - hard, but she also doesn’t seek validation from other people. A pep talk from her two favorite work parents would probably go a long way (which is probably a small reason why she doesn’t ask for that from them, since she’s a little self-punishing)

Frankie - easy enough throughout the day when she’s busy, but feelings like that tend to come for you when things get quiet

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

Astrid - not used to people coming to her bc they’re excited, usually ppl come to her w/ Problems, but she’d be very supportive, if a bit awkward

Frankie - VERy supportive, 10/10, will get extremely invested for your sake

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

Astrid - she sought it out with her ex Charlie, initially, when they were teenagers, and has been kind of closed off ever since, aside from the occasional one night stand here and there. Even those, she waits for it, though. Having your ex kick you out and try to hurt you does a number on the ol’ self esteem. She’s not really interested in romance currently

Frankie - doesn’t seek it out at all except in a purely sexual context when she’s bored (w/ others strictly looking for the same) bc she doesn’t feel like she’s got enough time left to give to someone right now. Also, genuinely, she’s got some self esteem issues as well and can’t fathom someone wanting her for more than just one night

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Astrid - nope, not at all. If she did she would have gotten a lot better grades in middle school/early high school (she dropped out like freshman year)

Frankie - she just writes everything down in a notebook

What memory do they revisit the most often?

Astrid - the night that Charlie told her to get lost and then tried to kill her. She hasn’t come to terms with it yet.

Frankie - the last time she saw her parents. When her dad lost his temper and said “If you’re gonna walk out that door then don’t come back” and she, in all of her 18 year old stubbornness, followed directions to the letter. She had a good relationship w/ her dad, they’re both just stubborn and stupid. she wishes she could have repaired things sooner

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

Astrid - extremely easy, she doesn’t exactly see herself as having a leg to stand on.

Frankie - easy, everyone fucks up, she’s more interested in communication and willingness to make things better than she is in perfection

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Astrid - EXTREMELY sensitive

Frankie - fairly sensitive, she’s very self aware of her shortcomings but stays quiet about them since most of them are really only apparent to her

How do they feel about children?

Astrid - loves kids, terminal big sis syndrome. will never want her own bc she’s terrified of fucking up and thinks she would make a bad mom

Frankie - likes kids, once again doesn’t rlly think about them as being a possibility for her. When she’s cured and ready to start considering a future (the gm isn’t gonna kill her i trust her too much we’re just in this for the angst) i think she’ll really want children, she’d consider it a privilege to raise a child. Also she’d be the perfect dad joke lesbian

How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

Astrid - she went from a lonely thief to a superhero being slowly reunited w/ her family, plus she’s made a new kind of family in the process. All she wants is to find her baby brother right now, and she’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe and sound.

Frankie - so bad it hurts. what started out as her being purely scared of dying has also quickly turned into her wanting to live and stay more with these people she’s met.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

Astrid - “Girls.”

Frankie - “Haha, why, you interested? *winks*” (but also lesbian as well)

[ducktales-wco-oo]

IC INTERVIEW! Tagged by: @legionizedfreedom Tagging: Whoever wants to!

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: “Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera.”

Eye color: “Hazel.” with caramel flecks

Hairstyle/color:  “Brown”

Height:  “I supposed you could call me... vertically-challenged.”

Clothing style: “Business casual for the most part. I want to be presentable when working and conversing out and about. But when at home, I often enjoy donning a more comfortable ensemble, like a slightly over-sized t-shirt.”

Best physical feature: “Well... People seem to have a fondness for my plumage.” Especially his thick, if a smidge untamed headfeathers.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears:  “Not being enough o protect those who are depending on me, or to make those I care about proud, to prove I can... Just... NEVER being- ... enough.”

Guilty pleasure: “I, heh... have a habit of overindulging in Telenovelas.

Biggest pet peeve: “Cruelty to others.”

Ambitions for the future:  “I want to make a notable difference in the world. To change it for the better. Help make people better...”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First thoughts upon waking up: “Time to start another day!”

What you think about the most: “My projects, be it personal or work-related, my numerous responsibilities, the people I care about, new ideas to undertake-” ALL he does is think.

What you think before bed: “The events of the day that transpired and what I wish to accomplish come morning.”

What your best quality is: “... My compassion.” His willingness to help others, to give the benefit of the doubt and an abundance of second chances. Unfortunately, it also tends to be his greatest weakness. 

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or group dates: “Single dates, because they provide an opportunity to connect with your partner without the added pressure of an audience.”

To be loved or respected: “To be loved... Respect can be easily lost, but love is far stronger than that. It sustains you, motivates you in a way nothing else can.”

Beauty or brains: “Intelligence IS beautiful.”

Dogs or cats: “I don’t have anything against felines... but I’ve always preferred canines.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU…

Lie: “Unfortunately, I do have a habit of... Stretching the truth? Or... decimating it, if I feel like the need arises. Or if under extreme pressure or- ... I don’t- I don’t enjoy lying... and I wish I didn’t do it. But there are times when it feels like the ONLY option or even... the best one.” 

Believe in yourself: “... I... I try to.” 

Believe in love: “Yes. Wholeheartedly!” 

Want someone: “I'm never opposed to welcoming others, but I am incredibly grateful for the people already in my life right now.”

LAYER SIX: EVER BEEN…

Been on stage: “Occasionally. Sometimes for presentations and other times when dancing.”

Done drugs: “No... Well, aside from occasionally testing experimental substances for Dr. Gearloose. But those were purely beneficial for the human condition and hardly dangerous!”

Changed who you were to fit in: “Yes... In a way.” In trying to be accommodating, to be the best person he can for others- sometimes he still has to. 

Favorite color: “Yellow! Although I’m also fond of lavender.”

Favorite animal: “Dogs- Specifically, German Shepards and Pitbulls.”

Favorite movie:  “I tend to watch shows more often than movies. My favorite currently on-going one is Patos de la Pasión.” 

Favorite game:  “Scrabble- both through apps or with a classical gameboard.” 

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day your next birthday will be: “March twenty-sixth.” 

How old will you be: “I’m nearing my mid-twenties.” 

Age you lost your virginity: “I was, ahem... around twenty, in my early years of college.” 

Does age matter: “It depends on what you specifically mean by this question. In matters of a person’s worth and wisdom, not at all. But in a relationship scenario, there are certain limitations that should be followed and taken into consideration.” 

LAYER NINE: IN PERSON

Best personality: “Someone kind and passionate, with strong convictions and who isn’t afraid to make them known. Who can inspire others and make the world a brighter place!” 

Best eye color: “All eyes are beautiful... but I do have a fondness for cooler colors, like greys and blues.” 

Best hair color: “Again, all hair is lovely... but I must admit, I enjoy the look of darker colors.”

Best thing to do with your partner:  “Simply spend time with them. Regardless of what you’re doing, being around them if wonderful in itself.”  

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “My family and friends.” 

I feel: “Hopeful for the future.”

I hide: “My problems because they’re my burden to carry.” 

I miss: “When people saw me for... me.”

I wish: “To be the best person I can for those around me...”